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iveseenstrangerthings · 9 months
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family video romance pt 2 - steve harrington imagine
summary: this is part two to the imagine where reader comes into family video and strikes up a bit of a mutually pining relationship with Steve.. (click here for part 1!) In part 2, they have their long awaited cosy, fluffy movie date with some confessions and confidence from the reader towards the end... I hope this is okay! Thanks for all the lush comments on the first part :) (trying this again because it didn’t show anywhere??)
word count: 3k
warnings: none that I can think of! maybe the odd swear word (this has been in my drafts for ages.. I kept going back and editing it but idk lol)
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As soon as the phone hit the stand, your heart has been in your mouth and your stomach is fizzing. Thoughts float lazily around your head like loose clouds on a clear day, slipping in and out of your stream of consciousness. Steve will be here soon, in your house, in your space, enjoying your company.
Quickly, realising just how imminent his arrival may be, you whip into your back room where your mom is sitting, flicking through a knitting magazine with her latest work sprawled over her legs. “Mom!” You shout accidentally, your energy not matching her own calmness, “sorry.” You add quickly realising you’ve just broken her silence. “I um- I have a friend coming over, he’ll be here in like twenty minutes.”
Her eyebrows raise slightly, and she dips her head forward, looking at you over the rim of her thick glasses, “He?”
You think for a minute that she’s going to turn around and deny Steve coming over, your heart sinks and you curse yourself silently. “Yeah, he’s really nice. We met at the video store.”
“Oh, is he the one who ordered you that film you like?” She replies as a smile dresses her lips. Thank God, she’s smiling.
“Yes!” You’re an open book with your parents, so you don’t want to stop now, “he actually left his number in the box...” your cheeks tinge a light shade of pink at the confession, and with how giddy it makes you feel. “So, I called and asked if he wanted to come and watch it with me.”
Her lips turn up in satisfaction, “Sounds good, sweetie.” She nods gently at you before turning back to flicking her page over, “Will you bring him in to say hello?” You nod eagerly, smiling broadly at her before swiftly turning and making a dash for the stairs to get yourself ready.
Fifteen minutes later, you’re smoothing the rest of yourself down whilst looking around your room one final time to make sure nothing looks too out of place, you light a candle on your dresser and knock off your main light, leaving the place basked in a dim, relaxing glow. Suddenly, a violent rush of thoughts enters your mind and you stand, staring fixedly at a spot on your carpet before you’re snapped out of it by the sound of your moms voice.
“Here’s company!” She calls out from downstairs and your stomach lurches. Oh god... You regret telling her now, you’re afraid she’s going to be too overbearing.
“Mom!” You call on your way down the stairs, skipping some which makes your heart skip faster, “you must promise me that you will not be too much.”
She feigns a look of offence before sloping back through to the back room, “Okay, okay.” Holding her hands up behind her, she disappears back into what you refer to as her knitting cave.
Almost immediately after you reach the front porch, the headlights that were illuminating the space are shut off and you wait in anticipation for the opening and closing of the car door. It’s softer than you expect and to an untrained ear it would’ve gone amiss. Before you know it, knuckles tap softly on the exterior of the door and you go over to let him in. As the door brushes back, you get a waft of the cool night air along with a fresh wave of his aftershave. Impulsively, you take a deep breath in to fill your lungs with the scent that would make people weak at the knees. “Hey.” You speak softly. Intensely, your eyes lock onto one another and your stare burns deep into each other unlike any time before.
“Hey stranger.” He replies and your knuckles turn white as you grip the door frame harder, unsure of how much time has passed, you quickly avert your gaze and step out of the way of the doorway.
“I’m so sorry, please, come in.” Like a distinguished host, you step aside and guide him in with the outstretch of your arm as if you were the host of a Victorian dinner party. Great start.
He steps into your porch and starts to slide off his shoes, gently placing them next to where your own rest on the hardwood floor. Maybe he feels awkward, or maybe he regrets coming already? To break the silence, that Steve was finding quite familiar and vaguely comforting, you speak up, “Do you want a drink or anything?”
He straightens himself up and his hair flops gently at the change in direction, “No, thank you. I’m all good.”
After a pleasant meeting with your mom, who very much seemed to enjoy his company too, you turn to head upstairs, and he places a hand on the small of your back as you walk up the stairs ahead of him. The sudden contact brings forth a deep crimson to settle on your cheeks, and you’re grateful that you’re facing away from him.
Now, as you arrive in your room, you gently close the door behind him and watch as he takes in your cosy surroundings. “Well, I think you passed the test with my mom.” You watch in awe as he goes straight to your bed and sinks into the pillows, making himself feel comfortable as he adjusts them to his liking. It’s actions like this that you realise puts the two of you miles apart. He’s used to this, you think, of course he’s done this before, making himself comfortable in someone else’s house and spending time with them. You daren’t let on this is the first time in someone else’s company.
He lets out a small laugh as you retrieve the tape from the box, smiling down at the note that is still nestled in there. “I can see where you get your good looks from.”
You turn to face him with pseudo disgust on your features as you slot the tape into the player with a click as the machine whirrs to life. “Get out.” You scoff as you awkwardly make your way back to your bed, sitting on it but sitting what feels like miles away from him. Inside your chest, your heart hammers wildly and you worry it will be audible to him. Instead of relaxing into it as the film starts, your body remains rigid and all you can think is that Steve is realising just how new to all of this you really are.
As the film plays out on your smaller, crackled television, which you’re hoping Steve isn’t silently judging, he turns to face you. Studying your side profile, his eyes trace your features, stopping to take in every tiny detail as you feel his eyes burning into you, but you daren’t turn to face him. The scene plays out in front of you in a blur, you’re thinking of anything but the movie and you feel a rush of warmth fill out your cheeks. One you’re sure Steve would be able to notice.
Just as you feel the colour dissipating across your face, he leans forward and pauses the movie.
Wrongly so, you assume that he’s going to say he’s had enough and leave. You know this isn’t how his usual meet ups with girls would go... for Christ’s sake you’re sat almost two metres apart from each other on your bed. It hasn’t felt awkward, but now the movie has been paused and the room has fallen into a blanket of silence, you realise how it could seem awkward.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, shuffling your position on the bed so your legs are crossed and you’re facing him now. How foreign it is, to have Steve in your room, sitting so casually on your bed.
He mirrors you and pulls his leg up under himself and turns to face you, making himself comfier in the process. This relaxes you slightly, as his posture is not one of someone readying themselves to leave. “Of course. Sorry, I just wanted five minutes.” He leans his arm against your headboard and lets his temple rest on his knuckles.
“Sure.” You nod, hoping he has something he wants to fill these five minutes up with.
Sure enough, before long he’s clearing his throat and studying your features once more. “That day, at the store,” he starts and your brows furrow, where is this going... “I think it was the second time we chatted, and I called you beautiful.”
Your stomach lurches at the memory and you hear a sudden increase in pitch in your eardrum, almost deafening. Your actions that day still confuse you, how you just walked out soon after, so awkward, so child-like in your reception of the compliment. “I remember, yeah..”
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
Ah shit. That’s the last thing you wanted him to feel. Now, you just need to find the words to describe how he really made you feel, because uncomfortable is far from it. “Oh my God, no! No. I know, I know I just walked out and left you standing there I know.” You shake your head in disbelief at your own actions but carry on. “I’m sorry. I just honestly have never been called that, by anyone. Never mind someone like you.”
He tilts his head slightly, brows slowly creasing together, “Someone like me?”
“You know,” you hold your hands out and pan them across Steve, “I’m not stupid I used to see you with girls in the store all the time, flirting and laughing with them. I used to think you were just a flirt and nothing else, someone who spoke to all the pretty girls to pass his time at work, but the girls loved it. It’s like they came in just to see you. You could’ve had any one of those girls.”
He waits a while, letting your words float down like a feather falling from the sky before landing softly in the room. Finally, he speaks, “Yeah but it would be fifteen minutes of laughing and cringeworthy flirting that I didn’t even enjoy, then they’d just walk away. I hardly ever get past the first date with anyone.” If this is a date, you’re sure as hell going to do everything in your power to get a second one. “But this has been different. This has felt different.” He admits now, still looking towards you carefully. To your surprise, he continues, “I’ve never waited for someone to walk through the door as I have with you, hell I’ve certainly never watched any Jack Nicholson movies for a girl before.” You both chuckle at this and let a moments silence flutter by you.
“I think they must’ve been mad.” You state.
“Hm?”
“The girls. From the store,” you blink at him expectantly, “to just walk away from you. Not want a second date. I thought about you all the time, you know. Whenever I watched a film, I’d wonder whether you’d seen it, if I thought you’d like it, if we might ever watch it together....” All of this is just tumbling out of you unexpectantly it’s like someone’s pulled a plug.
A warm smiles spreads across his features, reaching his eyes yet again.
Your cheeks flush as you overshare, “I’m sorry, that was a lot.”
“You apologise too much.” He states, rolling his thumbs over one another.
You nod agreeably, “Yeah, I know…” you pause slightly and watch his lip curl up, “…sorry.”
He puffs his cheeks out laughing and moves closer nudging you with his arm. “Idiot.” His amusement slowly drains from his features and he goes serious, which worries you. “You seem shy tonight. I hope I haven’t overstepped a mark.”
Fuck sake, (y/n), you think. Swiftly, you close your eyes and when you open them, he’s looking back at you with contentment, like he’d patiently wait all day for your reply if it meant he could continue your conversation together. “I’m not shy, I just, I don’t know, I feel like this is just so unnatural for me.” Your shoulders hunch up in a shrug as you finish your sentence off and you watch as his brows furrow slightly.
“What do you mean?” he questions.
“Well,” you start, “you being here, spending time with you, having someone take an interest in spending time with me.” Inwardly, you cringe, hearing yourself sounding quite pathetic but what you’re saying is true.
“How is that so hard to believe? That I wanna spend time with you?” His voice is laced with genuine curiosity, like he can see everything you simply can’t.
“It just is for me. Like I said before there are other people out there surely who you could want to spend your time with.”
He looks as if he’s about to start speaking, but then stops, pondering over his words silently, his fingers tracing over each other and your eyes flicker to them, watching intently before snaking your eyes back up to meet his own. “I don’t understand how this is your first-time spending time with someone one to one. I haven’t met anyone like you, ever.” You roll your eyes, yeah yeah, this is probably his rehearsed speech he gives everyone. “No, I’m serious.” Slowly, his hand comes to your own and takes it in his, he pulls your arm gently towards him, straightening your arm out so that you have no choice but to edge in closer, tightening your fingers around his own. Now that you’re closer, closer than ever before, you get to see every little detail up close. “Ever since I saw you in the store, you’re all I’ve thought about. I would wait and every time that damn bell rang, I would hope it was you walking through the door.” His fingers have spread apart so that you can weave your own through, feeling comfortable as they link together, “This feels right to me, (y/n). Being with you, it feels right,” his eyes search your own intensely and you drink in every last word, “I might be overstepping here, and you can tell me if I am, but I don’t want this to just be a one-off thing, I don’t want to just come here tonight and then never have anything to do with you again.”
Almost as if his touch, albeit only on your hands, is melting you, your posture softens and for the first time tonight you feel relaxed, “Neither do I.” you say, your voice small and almost whispered.
Now that you’re closer to each other, your breathing feels like it synchronises together and you lean in comfortably against your headboard, your hands still locked into one another. With a sigh, you intensely search his features, holding his eye contact for much longer than ever before. He notices this, and holds it right back, admiring your eyes up close and taking a mental image of how the colours swirl and pool together before your pupils. “You’ve got me feeling some type of way, (y/n).” Steve admits smugly, a smirk gradually creeping up on his lips. You lift one eyebrow at his confession, enjoying his admission of feelings. Now, your eyes move down to his lips, and he notices your shift in gaze. Suddenly, a feeling of overwhelming embarrassment floods your body, and you move your head back abruptly, shocked at your proximity.
“Hey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers to your chin to gently manoeuvre your gaze back to him. “What’s worrying you?”
The fact he can tell; that he can read you so well shocks you; he seems to know you and understand you more than you think. “I just don’t wanna get hurt.” After your admission, your eyes land on each other once more. This time, his thumb grazes over your cheek gently and the gesture warms your heart.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He waits a minute, simply gliding his thumb absentmindedly over your cheek whilst the clock ticks calmly in the background, signifying the passing of time but neither of you seem to care. “I know we don’t know each other all that well yet, but I really wanna get to know you and learn about you, and I know this seems like a sweeping statement for two people who haven’t spent a whole lot of time together yet, but whatever worries or whatever hesitations that you have about me, I wanna prove them wrong.” It’s as if you’re made of butter and in that moment his words are the heat needed to melt you into a puddle on the floor. You feel pathetic for feeling like this over Steve, but God damn...
“I would like that very much. Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Just all this,” you gesture back to the TV where the movie is still sat paused then gesture back towards him, “just being here with me.”
He laughs slightly and you’re now aware of his thumb still grazing over your cheek, “You never have to thank me for that. It’s an absolute pleasure.”
Without giving it a second thought, you place your hand on his chest as you lean in and close the gap between the two of you, placing your lips onto his softly. He doesn’t seem the slightest alarmed as he leans into your lips, deepening the kiss. It’s as if he’s been waiting for this too as his hand now cups the side of your face. He’s very aware that this is most likely your first kiss, and he keeps it soft, gentle, and slow paced. Albeit you initiated it, which he admits to himself has turned him on ever so slightly, he keeps it tame, as much as he doesn’t want to.
As you pull away, he can’t hide the smile that’s painting his face, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for permission.” Your cheeks are tinged with a slight blush at the excitement of the whole situation.
“Are you kidding me?” He starts, “That was hot.” Your blush only intensifies again at his words, and you dip your head and lean it against his shoulder, laughing slightly. When you pull back up, he places a soft kiss against your lips then moves back towards the TV, going to start the film up again. As he pulls back, he rearranges himself to get comfortable and then opens his arm out to you, inviting you to come closer, closer than before at least, and enjoy the remainder of the film enveloped in his arms.
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iveseenstrangerthings · 10 months
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coming back to you - steve harrington imagine
summary: an exes to lovers imagine in where Steve broke up with the reader over his own worries and has left the reader heartbroken and confused, but of course, where there’s a will, there’s a way...
word count: 2.6k
warnings: just a couple of swears
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Summer was slowly drawing to a close, much to your despair, and the group was ready to disband for the evening. As the countdown for back to school begins, your evenings end quicker as people head home to prepare for the school rush starting again. 
You watch as Max and Dustin fold away the camping chairs you’ve all been sitting on, “God this is depressing.” You sigh heavily, willing the night to etch out just that little while longer.
“Please don’t even mention what I think you’re going to, or I will swing you in that pool.” Lucas chips in, getting the hint that school may be snaking its way into the conversation. In defence, you hold your hands up and start to slowly get up from the camping chair, pulling the blanket from your legs and folding it up neatly. 
In this moment, you reflect on the summer you’ve had. It’s not been a great one. At the beginning of the summer, yours and Steve’s relationship crumbled away from underneath you so fast you felt you were falling fast towards a hole that you couldn’t recover from. In short, the Steve you knew at the beginning of the summer was not the Steve you had spent the last year and a half with. He was distant, he was cold, he wasn’t willing to make plans and, in all honesty, you weren’t actually shocked when he asked to call it quits. You’d assumed there was someone else, as is usually the case, so you completely cut ties with each other.  
Much to the group’s surprise, the pair of you kept coming to the group gatherings, and slowly over the summer started to show signs of your friendship thawing out from the hard layer of ice that had covered it at the start of summer. 
It started off as him offering you a lift home, with others, in the car. Then, as the curtain has started to go down on summer, he’s asking you if you want a lift on your own. He’s offering you drinks when you’re all out and he even bought you a meal at the diner last week. 
Now, as the group shuffles around quietly packing the chairs and blankets away, you catch his eyes over the dying fire. Quickly, as if embarrassed to be seen, he averts his gaze to the bag he’s covering the folded chair with. You sling the chair over your shoulder and move to the shed in Mike’s yard to put it away, but you feel a soft graze of skin move over your knuckles and you turn around. Behind you, Steve’s waiting. “Need a hand?” He offers.
You shake your head, offering a small smile at the gesture, “Thanks, but I got it.” 
Once tidied away, everyone moves around the side of the house to start making their way home and you all wave each other off and give each other a chorus of goodbyes as you split off into different directions. Mike and El slope off back to the house, Mike’s arm draped over El’s shoulders, and you turn away to start walking with a small smile. A hint of jealousy at the pair sitting in your gut, although you hate to admit it. 
Just as you start walking, you hear a voice call out from a few feet behind you. “Hey, (y/n)?” You stop and turn ever so slightly, Steve is walking slowly, his hands in his pockets, towards you, “Can I walk you home?” 
For a minute you ponder the question. You battle between letting him walk you home and allowing yourself to feel a, probably false, sense of hope for the pair of you rekindling. Or you could just shut him out completely and try your best to keep moving forward. 
He waits patiently, his whole demeanour and attitude completely different to that of the one he wore seven weeks ago. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the opportunity you’ve been craving to talk to him, one on one, about his actions and decisions. So, you reply, “Sure, I’d like the company.” 
Now that he’s had permission, he closes the gap between the pair of you and starts to walk with you away from Mike’s. 
For the first few minutes, it’s quiet. The only sounds those of your shoes on the sidewalk and the gentle breeze shaking the last of the luscious summer leaves on the trees. How you’ll miss the gorgeous colours once the season changes. 
Just as you’re getting used to the silence, Steve speaks. “Summer’s gone by quick this year, huh?”
You nod quietly back, “Sure has.” 
For a moment, you regret allowing him to walk you home. If this is what your walk is going to consist of, awkward small talk and silences, you’d rather have walked alone. A flit of anger surges through you like an electric shock and you shudder almost at its imaginary presence. The urge has almost willed you on to start up a new conversation with Steve. 
“What happened with us, Steve?” Your voice is small but firm, you want to have this conversation now and you want some answers. His silence has been overbearing for too long now. “Was there someone else? Is there someone else?”
He ponders a moment, watching as the sun dips off even further into the horizon, “No. There never has been anyone else.” He matches your firmness, and you hope he hasn’t taken your question for hostility, when all you want is clarity.
“So, what was it then?” You reply.
Again, he waits a moment before replying and you begin to think he’s doing it for dramatic effect, “I just look at you and see so much potential. I mean academic and personal potential. (y/n), you’re gonna go on to do amazing things, change the world and what not,” he pauses, and you briefly look towards him, smiling at the joke you used to share, “I want you to get out of Hawkins. I want you to explore the world and all the opportunities that I know are out there waiting for you.” You frown, trying to work out what any of this has to do with the pair of you splitting up. He continues, “But me,” he stops, but this time not for dramatic effect, you can hear the emotion that’s become thick within his voice, “I don’t feel I have that same future. I mean, what have I got? Shit grades, I sling fuckin’ ice cream on the side and my parents are assholes who don’t want to support anything I do.” 
Gradually, the pace the pair of you are walking has slowed right down to almost a gentle stroll, as you would in a museum, taking the time to admire all the artwork in a slow rotation. “Steve, what job you have now doesn’t define what you’re gonna do for the rest of your life.” 
“No, you don’t get my point. We have one year left of high school, then it’s college.” You really don’t know where this is going, but you listen on intently, “I know you changed your option for college last minute, your mom told me.” You drop your gaze now to your shoes, ashamed.
Admittedly, you had applied to go away for college, you wanted to move away and see more of the country you call home. Plus, with everything that’s happened in Hawkins recently, you can’t see Hawkins actually being here, at all, in the next few years. However, the closer you got to Steve and the more your relationship developed, the more you didn’t want to leave him. So, you changed your college application to a local one, without his knowledge. It was for this reason that you didn’t want to tell him until closer to the time. 
“You changed your admission application for me. I know you did.” His voice shakes now as he continues, “and I cannot let you do that. I cannot let myself hold you back from the amazing things I know you’re capable of achieving. That’s when I started to think, I’m just going to hold you back. I’m just going to be a burden for you, I’ll be one of those boyfriends who their girlfriend’s friends complain about. I just felt I couldn’t sit back and let you change your options just for me. I’m not worth it. I just got angry at myself, and angry that you kept your college change from me, so I snapped and ended it.” 
  Holy shit. Never in the years of knowing Steve have you ever had such a true and vulnerable conversation with him. Never has he spoken to truthfully and openly about his feelings. This has only reignited the kindling flame of your love for him that had never really died out. “Steve, why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” Your voice comes out exasperated, tired. 
He simply shrugs and offers no verbal answer. You take a minute to piece together your reply, you want to organise your words carefully, not haphazardly. “I couldn’t care less about what you do now, whether it’s selling ice cream or what, Steve, for our age, a job is a job. But you have prospects too, I know you do. You can sit there all you like and say your grades are shit and that your parents are assholes, but I know that you have goals, and that you have dreams, that are just as bold, and achievable, as mine.” 
The pace of your walking has now pretty much come to a complete stop, so you turn to face him side on, his side profile just as striking as you remember admiring months ago. “Steve.” You say softly, taking his hand in yours. Eventually, he turns to face you and his eyes are glossy, glass like. Blood soars in your ears as it drowns out any other noise that is in the vicinity. It feels like it’s just the two of you left in the world, nobody else matters. “I want to achieve them with you. I want to do all those things we talked about with you. I want to make you see that your future is not already written for you. Seriously Steve, you have it all ahead of you to look forward to. And I want to experience all of life’s ups and downs with you, not on my own, not with anyone else. You need someone to show you how much of an amazing person you are, because hell you don’t get it from anyone else.” You know that was a low blow, a dig at his parents, but it needed to be said. 
  “I can’t let you change your life just for me, though.” He says quietly. 
“And I wouldn’t. We would take things on together, if it meant going long-distance for a few years then figuring out our plans after that, then so be it, we would get through it Steve.” You don’t know whether you’re just coming across as that you’re begging, and you don’t want to seem needy, but the floodgates are open, and the forces are too strong to shut them anytime soon. 
With your hand still in his, he brings his other hand up to your cheek, brushing his fingertips over your skin delicately. Just like he used to. You watch as his eyes search your own, his pupils dilating slightly, causing an eruption of butterflies to set off in your stomach. The seconds pass nonchalantly, enjoyably, as you take the time to gaze and search each other’s features for the first time in months, taking in every detail and every crevice that you missed.
You hadn’t realised, but tears had started to spill over onto his cheeks. You absentmindedly bring your thumb up to wipe them away. As you do this, your own vision goes cloudy and you know in a second, there will be tears of your own decorating your face. “I have missed you so much.” He admits, now letting your other hand go and bringing it to the side of your face. “I have thought about you day and night, just trying to figure it all out. But I realised that I’d made a huge mistake, letting you go.” His thumb continues to gently trace your cheeks, carefully wiping away each falling tear. 
“I never, ever thought of you as being a burden, Steve. Never. I hate that you felt like that, and you didn’t just tell me. We wouldn’t have had to go through this.” A small, short sob escapes your lips and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. 
“I know, I know.” He says softly, almost inaudibly. It’s evident he’s spent the last few months beating himself up, going over the decision, thinking about it all and quite simply catastrophising everything when he really didn’t need to. Inch by inch throughout the conversation, your faces have moved closer. “Everything I’ve said, I feel so deeply, and I worry that it’s true, but selfishly I just want you back.” 
Steadily, your tears stem and you nod, feeling his secure grip on your cheeks, “I do too. I’ve never wanted anything more.” 
Before either of you realise, you close the small gap between the pair of you with your lips. A salty taste enters your mouth as you realise tears are staining your lips, whose tears they are you don’t know, but it seems irrelevant now anyway. Like you’d never been apart, your lips find their natural rhythm you shared so enjoyably, and you bask in this moment. Feeling his hands on your face pull you even closer, you place your hand on his wrist and the other slips in between his jacket, leaving your hand resting on his side. As you pull away, you finally see the smile you fell in love with adorn his face, causing your own to bloom widely. 
“Can we try again? Can we go conquer the world together?” He laughs slightly as he speaks and your heart is thundering in your chest, all in happiness, though.
Your smile still paints your face, and you bring your lips up to meet his once more, quickly. “I would want nothing more.” 
Still standing close to one other, he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before bringing his fingers back down, tracing the side of your jaw with his fingertips before finally resting his thumb on your chin where he slightly drags your bottom lip down as he does so. He does this as he knows how it makes you feel, he knows you’ll feel the heat rising within you as he does so. After parting your lips, he comes back down and kisses you with pent up passion and just pure longing. If you were in a movie, you just know fireworks would explode behind you and the credits would start to roll in, the feeling of a happy ending leaving everyone teary eyed and satisfied. 
Eventually, you both pull away and start to resume the pace of walking side-by-side, this time with each other’s hand resting comfortably within one another’s grip. “Would you stay with me tonight?” He asks into the now night air, the sun having long gone down. 
You give his hand a small squeeze, thinking he’d never ask. But also, grateful for the question, as you really felt you’d never hear the words again. “Of course I will.”
And so, the pair of you wander aimlessly back to Steve’s, in no rush whatsoever, catching up with each other and sharing each other’s lows over the last few months of being apart. Deep down, Steve knows that the pair of you will work. He knows that you’ll change your college application, you’ll do long distance and make it work. He’s also decided that he’s going to investigate college now, too. He’s going to look into his options and do his very best to prove himself, and his worries, wrong, knowing he will have you there every step of the way.
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iveseenstrangerthings · 11 months
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ALEC UTGOFF AS ALEXEI Stranger Things, season 03.
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iveseenstrangerthings · 11 months
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family video romance - a Steve Harrington imagine
summary: reader is becoming a regular customer at the family video and steve is always keen to help her out. some pining fluffy strangers to lovers which i thought of driving home from work lol. I might make a part two to this, just because I left it quite open.... I loved writing this, it took me a while I kept coming back and adding to it. enjoy :) 
word count: 5.3k
warnings: some mild swearing, nothing else :) 
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The bell atop the door cheers light-heartedly as you walk into Family Video. You absentmindedly drove here on your way home from work, wanting a familiar, comforting distraction from the sluggish day you had. Every fibre of your being just wants to go home, slot a tape into your crackly television and get lost in the fictional world of cinema. 
You live for films. You laugh, cry, and get transported into the storyline so deeply that for the days afterwards you’re convinced you physically lived it. 
So now as you breeze through the door, your qualms of the day seem to dissipate with every step you take. Slowly, you snake through the small aisles, stopping every so often at a film you haven’t taken out yet. Carefully, like it’s an ancient relic, turning the box over in your hand, studying the case, looking carefully at the actors and actresses and reading the blurb. 
Down the next aisle, you stop and pick up Stand by Me, a film you’ve watched and rented multiple times, but always come back to. Your comfort film if you will. You’re about to move off onto the next aisle to study the new arrivals but are stopped in your tracks. 
“That’s a really good choice,” Steve starts, leaning against the shelves of tapes with his arms crossed over. 
You tap the box against your hand nervously, you’d seen him working before when you were in, always either sweeping or rearranging the same shelf of tapes, but you’ve never been served by him. He seems sweet, sort of careless, but sweet all the same. His hair always falls back into place after he’s drawn his hand through it roughly and his arms flex as he pushes the broom back and forth. Not that you’d noticed... 
“Uh, yeah,” you reply, taken aback by the sudden conversation, “I mean, I’ve seen it a bunch of times but... just keep coming back to it.” The tapping against your palm slows as you see his eyes search your features, a sudden blush peppering your cheeks under his gaze. You’re realising now just how attractive he really is, and you find yourself becoming shy, almost nervous, in his presence. This isn’t how you pictured your movie shopping to go, you wanted to come in, grab some movies, and head home. 
He clears his throat and points his thumb in the direction of another aisle, “Can I make some suggestions? Show you what’s popular?” He’s trying to be helpful, trying to be accommodating to you as a customer, but you’ve seen this act before with other girls in the store. Internally, you battle with yourself between just taking Stand by Me and leaving or entertaining the idea of some harmless conversation with... hang on. Your eyes trail to his name badge. Ah, Steve. Harmless conversation with Steve. 
Eventually, after what you hope wasn’t too large of a pause, you nod, “Sure.” 
You arrive at another section of video tapes and your eyes immediately go to the black VHS tape box facing forward with a small white ghost peeking through a red do not enter sign. He sees you looking at the cover and he picks it up, turning it over in his hands. “This is awesome. Have you seen it? It’s three dudes in New York City fighting off these weird ghouls with machines and they have to fight them off before they end up taking over the city.” 
“Ghostbusters? Yeah, I’m sure everyone’s seen that.” You say with a slight laugh, finding it cute how he explained the premise of Ghostbusters, one of the biggest films from the previous few years.
He nods his head quickly before placing it back on the shelf, “Oh yeah, totally. Totally. It was a really-” He places it back so hastily that it knocks a couple other boxes onto the floor. He bends down swiftly and picks them all up before you can offer to help. “-Really popular movie. Yeah.” 
“But hey, what’s the harm in watching it again?” Taking Ghostbusters from his hands, you look to the remaining boxes he has, and your eyes fall upon a case you’ve not seen before. “Is this one new?” You enquire, pointing to The Manhattan Project that’s nestled in Steve’s hands. He flips it over and studies the title for a second. 
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, this one’s pretty new,” he looks back at you and you’re looking back at him, waiting to see if he has anything else to say. “I haven’t seen it, though,” he adds, almost disappointingly, like he feels he’s shutting you out by not wowing you with any cinematic knowledge of new arrivals. “But, I mean, hey, cover’s cool,” he holds it out to you to have a look and you smile at him, taking the box and studying the blurb, actors and such. 
Your lips turn down and you raise your eyebrows, “Yeah guess it’ll do. I’ll try it.” 
“Oh, oh yeah. Sure. Yeah.” What the fuck, Steve? He thinks to himself. Is he now constricted to one syllable words? So far, he feels this encounter has been disastrous. After mansplaining one of the bestselling movies of ‘84, to knocking tapes from the shelf, to sputtering out single words. What’s happening to the smooth, flirtatious Steve that usually comes out in the presence of a pretty girl? But you’re not just pretty. You’re beautiful, and effortlessly so, almost intimidatingly so. Oh, come on Steve. It’s been ten minutes. 
Whilst Steve cleans up the shelf, you can’t help but smile at how flustered he seems. It’s cute. You like it. Once his hands are empty, he doesn’t know what to do with them, so he commits to crossing his arms back over his chest again. “So...” You start, looking around at the few remaining aisles you haven’t ventured to yet. “Got anymore top grossing films to recommend that I will have most definitely seen?” 
He smiles down at you, tightening his arms and shaking his head. “You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?” His voice is playful, and you return his smile. You have him in the palm of your hand, you just don’t realise it. 
“We’ll see.” You walk back past him now, towards the counter. The tiredness from the day flooding through your body like a strong current and you realise it’s time to head home. “I’ll just take these for today.” 
You place the two on the counter and Steve puts them through the system for you. “Can I take your name? Just for the account,” he points at the screen, fingers ready to type in your name.
You give him your name and it etches into his brain. One he will certainly not forget. He makes a mental note to come back onto the system later and have a look through your recent rentals. That way, next time you come in, he won’t make an ass of himself with recommending films you’ve already seen. Or is that too weird?
“Oh, can I just ask?” You start your question as he places the two movies on the countertop before you, placing his hands on either side of them. His eyebrows raise in anticipation of your question. “Do you know if you’ll be getting Terms of Endearment in? I look for it every time I come in and I can never find it.” 
Steve’s facial expression allows you to see the cogs whirring in his mind as he tries to work out what Terms of Endearment is. “Uh, I can’t say I’ve seen it. Is it a particular favourite of yours?”
“I love Jack Nicholson, I’d watch any film he’s in, but I would love to re-watch that one in particular. There was just something about it, you know?” 
“Jack Nicholson...” He ponders the name for a moment, and you watch as he clicks his fingers as the name comes to him. “Oh!!” He exclaims. “Here’s Johnny?” A real lightbulb moment. 
“Yes!” You beam, although that was also a very popular film, you’re not judging his, clearly limited, film knowledge. 
“Uh, so to answer your question about the movie, I’m not sure. But I can definitely check it out for you,” his voice is confident and has grown slightly louder now that you’re back at the desk. 
You nod back at him, grateful, whether his words mean anything, you’re unsure. But you can only hope. “Awesome. Well, alright,” You pause a moment, flicking to his name badge to make sure you remember his name correctly, although you’re kidding yourself because how could you forget it, “thank you for all your help, Steve.” 
He waves a hand slowly at you as you turn to leave the store, turning round coyly as you exit the door and giving him a small, but noticeable, smile. After you’ve left the store feels unnaturally quiet, he stares at the space you were stood in for a few minutes, mulling over your exchange. 
“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Harrington.” Robin jeers from the door of the back office where she’s been sat shuffling return forms into organised piles. 
Steve quickly changes his posture and walks to the office, leaning his frame against the door and puffing his cheeks out. “She was quite something.” His eyes are fixated on one spot on the floor, replaying your conversation in his head. 
“She was in last week,” Robin admits, trailing her pencil over a form ensuring it’s been filled out correctly, but her face sours meaning some obvious piece of information has been missed out.
“She was?” Steve retorts.
Robin looks up, her face still soured from the dodgy form, “Uh, yeah. She has a pretty memorable face.” 
Steve’s eyebrows raise, “Same time last week?” 
“What? Why are you asking that?” She huffs and places her fingers on her forehead, gently massaging it. “Please don’t turn into creepy stalker Steve now. She seems nice, not like those other air heads you usually go for. Plus, she seems to know her shit about movies. Unlike you, dingus.” 
Steve looks offended for a glimmer of a second before softening his features, knowing Robin made a very valid point, about the girls, and the movies. He quickly thinks to change the subject before being personally attacked any further by his co-worker, and closest friend. “Hey, do you know anything about the film ‘Terms of Endowment?’” He questions sincerely, and confidently.
Robin stares at him in awe, what have you done to him? “Firstly, I think you mean ‘Endearment’,” Robin takes in Steve’s defiant features, he will be adamant he had the name right, but Robin’s doing him a favour and correcting it for him before he messes it up in front of you. “And secondly, no we do not, nor have we ever, had that for rental.” 
“How do we get it?” He retorts, brushing off his poor memory for the name of the film. 
She shrugs impatiently, tired of being roped into Steve’s romantic tropes that always end in a ghosting. But there is a steady glimmer of hope in Robin for this one. “I don’t know, get in touch with head office or something.” Before the conversation can go any further, she returns to her forms and Steve whirls out to the phone, dialling the number for head office and requesting one copy of the film to be delivered to the Family Video.                                                           
                                                            ✦ ✦ ✦
Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t on edge every time the doorbell jingled as a new customer entered. Wherever he was in the store, he would look over eagerly to check if it was you. But much to his dismay, you hadn’t been back for over a week. A couple of times, when he clocked on for his shift, he would check the records on the computer to see if you had returned the three films whilst he hadn’t been working, but they still showed as out for rental, meaning you hadn’t returned, and he hadn’t missed you. He’s kind of hoping you wait it out a few more days though, as the copy of your movie still hasn’t arrived. After some pathetic begging and pleading with head office, they agreed to send a copy out to the Hawkins store when Steve had convinced them it would absolutely get rented. 
It’s a cold, October evening and the weather is atrocious. All day there had been steady ribbons of rain cascading from the sky and painting the pavement in a slick sheen. Steve and Robin sit as a couple of shoppers aimlessly float the aisles, munching on a bag of chips behind the counter. “Reckon we could close early?” Robin probes, hoping Steve will say yes, she eyes the keys in the pot underneath the counter. 
Steve’s still holding out hope he will see you today, so, reluctantly, he refuses. 
“Come on!” Robin whines, shoving another handful of broken chips into her mouth. “It’s a Friday night, almost Halloween, surely there’s better things we can be doing with our time.” Robin says through a mouthful of dry chips, yet to be chewed, and Steve looks over at her with slight feigned disgust. 
“Be my guest and go, but I don’t fancy getting another warning letter from head office about us closing up early,” Steve holds his hands up in protest.
“Steve, that was one time,” Robin retorts, her embarrassment at the memory showing on her cheeks in a light pink flush.
“You closed the shop four hours early because Vickie was practising band at-” He stops mid-sentence as a figure appears in the doorway and the familiar jingle of the bell rings out. The sound of the rain pummelling the sidewalk enters the quiet ambience of the shop as you step through the door, removing your sodden hood when you’re in the warmth. As you turn around, you’re met with welcoming smiles from Robin and Steve. You return the gesture, trying to supress the butterflies erupting into a wild storm in your stomach, and elope into the familiar comfort of the aisles before you. 
“Go on then, jackass,” Robin whispers, folding away the rest of the chips. 
“No, not straight away. I’ll look too keen,” he hisses as he rummages around loose papers to make himself look remotely busy, Robin’s face is a picture of bewilderment as she shakes her head and sets off for the back office. 
Fifteen minutes pass and Steve still hasn’t wandered over to you. He can see you, stealing glances over the top of the stands as you aimlessly look for another film. But it’s like someone has cemented his feet to the carpeted floor, he just doesn’t move. 
You’re hoping that he’s just busy, that he wants to come over and chat with you again, but he’s staying put behind the desk and a disappointment nestles itself deep in the pit of your stomach you know it’ll be hard to shift. After reasoning with yourself for another five minutes, you make your way over to the counter and place the tapes for return on the top, letting him meander over to you from where he was resting by the computer. His heart sinks as he realises, he’s left it too late and now you’ll be leaving soon. 
“Hey! Good to see you again,” he smiles broadly at you, not letting his internal beatings show on his beaming face. The first thing he notices however, is your shiny eyelids, caressed with deep, dark eyelashes that beautifully darken your lustrous eyes. He wonders if you’re made up for someone else, maybe for a date. Shake it off Steve and get on with it. 
You push the tapes towards him and return his hello, “Just returning these.” 
He peers at the tape you’re holding to your chest, “Poltergeist 2, huh?” He questions as he taps the return details into the computer with satisfying clicks. “You uh...” he taps the spacebar a couple of times before turning his head back to look at you, “you watching that alone or..?” His question trails off as he kicks himself for asking such an intrusive question. 
Your brows knit together at his question, “Yeah, I mean, it’s almost Halloween so. I figured I’d watch something spooky.” Drumming a beat, your nails tap against the countertop almost impatiently, unbeknownst to you having just skipped over the biggest hint ever. 
He purses his lips and nods tightly before turning back and reaching for the VHS tape you still hold close to your chest. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble as you pass him the tape. As you do so, your fingertips briefly linger over one another and your eyes meet instantaneously, your cheeks warming under his gaze before you avert your eyes elsewhere. The sounds of him tapping away at the keyboard fill the air shortly after and it fills the silence. 
“I see why you like Jack Nicholson so much,” he starts, “rented a couple over the last week and I gotta say, he’s a pretty awesome dude.”
A slight laugh escapes your lips as you take the Poltergeist 2 from him and place it in your bag. “Right?!” Your words seep with enthusiasm and his heart gradually quickens as he hears the sing-song fill your voice. A warmth fills you like a whistling kettle at the thought of him going out of his way to watch movies with your favourite actor. Or, you could just be reaching here, and it doesn’t mean anything. “He’s just, so enthralling, you know? Anything he does I enjoy.” 
He ponders this for a moment as his fingers glide over his chin repeatedly, “I wasn’t a fan of Missouri Breaks, but was a big fan of The Postman Always Rings Twice.” 
Your eyebrows slowly sneak up at Steve, “Because of Jessica Lange?”
Slightly, hid head quirks to one side and, innocently, he says, “Who?”
“Never mind.” You dismiss the comment with a wave of your hand and tap the counter, ready to announce your departure.
He stretches his arm, rubbing the back of his head so his bicep flexes slightly and you have to use all your willpower not to stare at the muscles contracting so effortlessly under his skin. “You uh-” he starts, “you look nice.” He rests his hand now on the counter, close to your own. “Well, you looked nice the other week, I just mean tonight you look better than usual.” His eyes widen quickly, and he shoots his hands forward in defence. “Not that you didn’t look nice! I just mean tonight you look... tonight you look beautiful.” 
You genuinely don’t know what to say. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve never been called beautiful by anyone before. Well, yeah, your grandma often peppers you with kisses and calls you her ‘beautiful ray of sunshine’, but not anyone like Steve. For a moment, you’re overwhelmed by the feeling you almost feel nervous, like you just want to get out of the situation. Not because you don’t appreciate the compliment, but because you’ve never been in this situation before and just genuinely don’t know how to act. In your chest, your heart hammers wildly and you fear it will leap out onto the counter between the pair of you. An intense heat pools across your cheeks, one which is entirely noticeable, and Steve immediately worries he’s overstepped some unspoken boundary between the two of you. 
Before you wish to make it anymore awkward by your utter incompetence to receive compliments, you push back from the counter, smile awkwardly, and turn to leave. “Have a nice night, Steve,” is all you can muster before you reach the door to leave. 
After you’ve left, the cemented feeling returns, and he does not shift from his spot behind the counter. Alone with his thoughts, he realised he must’ve said something to upset you, because the look on your face was like he’d just shared some deep, disgusting secret with you. But it was just a compliment? One that, albeit they are disingenuous, the girls love. But this one he meant it, this one he wanted to see the bashful look seep over your features, but it was quite the opposite. 
                                                          ✦ ✦ ✦ 
Steve’s pen hovers over the scrap of paper, he’s been staring at it for five minutes mulling over the right note to write for you. Your copy of Terms of Endearment arrived the other day and he’s itching to give it to you. He resumes his familiar position by the cash register, waiting for your familiar figure to come through the door and grace the shop with your presence. But there’s been a deep pit of anxiety forming in his stomach as his worries grow that he colossally fucked up the last time you were in. 
After a few more minutes of mulling it over, he finally decides to write his number on the paper and underneath, written in his scrawl: 
‘Because I know you’ll ask, yes. Yes, I did cry. Great recommendation. - Steve x’
He cringes slightly at himself, but then shrugs the thought off and pops open the case for the tape, lying the note on the top before snapping it back shut and placing it underneath the counter, ready for when you come back in. 
A few days later, he misses the door opening and it’s you who approaches first. He’s stood with his back to you, sorting tapes and making notes on his clipboard on stock. Over the last week, you’ve been building yourself up to going in and seeing Steve. You kept looking at yourself in the mirror and telling yourself to take Steve’s compliment. Accept it, believe it, and believe he might feel something for you. You even talked to your mom about it, and she was thrilled, you could already see her picking out a wedding hat but you rolled your eyes anytime she asked anything else. 
So, now as you walk over to him you tap him on the shoulder lightly and he turns, face solemn until he realises it’s you. 
“y/n! Hey. It’s good to see you.” He smiles broadly and it reaches his eyes, a real genuine smile. 
You return it sincerely and grip the tapes tighter to your chest, almost as a defence mechanism between the pair of you. “Yes, you too. It’s been a while.” You stand looking up at him, gazing more like, “you been busy?” 
It only occurs to him now that this is really the first time you’ve made any effort to make small talk. “Busy? Uh, yeah. We have been actually; Halloween rush is over so we will probably be getting all the Christmas movies in soon.” 
Your heart swells at the thought of Christmas movies.
“How about you? Get up to anything exciting over Halloween?” He hasn’t seemed to want to break away eye-contact since he laid eyes on you.
You shake your head and hold your arms up a little higher, “Hell no. I’ve come to get my next fix.” 
He laughs slightly and places his clipboard under his arm, “Oh! Sure yeah, come on over and I’ll return those for you.”
You both make your way over to the counter and you place your returns on the top, sliding them along for Steve to process. He scans them swiftly back in and places them in a small pile to be placed back out on the shelves. Unbeknownst to Steve, you watch his hands as they work, flipping the covers open to ensure the tape has been returned, scribbling notes onto the sheet and then typing away onto the computer. 
Once he’s finished his routine for returns, he faces you again with a smirk on his face, like a kid who’s walked into the best candy store around. Your stomach tightens and he clears his throat, “I have something for you.”
The knot in your stomach is pulled painfully tight, your stomach clenches and your heart leaps as he reaches under the counter and pulls out Terms of Endearment, sliding it along the counter for you. Your eyebrows raise with happiness and your eyes grow wide, “How did you- Where-?” You almost can’t believe the store finally has it in, you figured it’d come in on one of their recent deliveries. 
“I rang head office, had to speak to them a couple times, but I asked if they’d send a copy out here.” He looks pleased with himself, and so he should. Nobody has ever done anything like that for you, yes it might have been easy to get a hold of, but still. He slides it further towards you, urging you to take it so you pick it up. As usual, you inspect the box and turn it over gently in your hands. He watches as you do so, seeing the routine so familiar it makes his heart swell. You are so precious. You go to hand it back to him and he frowns.
“For you to scan!” When you see his frown, your expression changes too and you tilt your head slightly.
“It’s yours. I don’t need to scan it, that’s your copy.” He states it matter of factly and instinctively your hand goes over your chest. 
“My copy?” Your head stays tilted like a puppy trying to register a new sound. 
He nods slowly and laughs a puff of air, “Yeah! Your copy. I knew you liked it, loved Jack Nicholson, and couldn’t get it anywhere so... yeah. You can keep it. Yours to enjoy at your leisure.” 
Instinctively, you clench your hands around the box, overwhelmed with gratitude. “Oh Steve... That’s...” Your eyes lock together, and you will this not to be the last time, “that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” You pause, “I know it’s not that deep or whatever but yeah that’s just super thoughtful Steve, thank you.” You waggle the tape in between the two of you, eyes still boring into one another and his smile stretches across his face again, lighting up his eyes. 
“I uh, I watched it too. Just to see what the hype was about, you know?” He quickly adds, “Oh and don’t worry, I wound the tape all the way back for you.”
You laugh slightly, “How thoughtful.” Where his hand is resting on the desk, you quickly take it in yours and give it a squeeze, you don’t know what came over you, the sudden rush of confidence, but you’ve finally broken the unspoken barrier between the pair of you. “Seriously Steve,” you start as you place your hand back over the box, “thank you so much.”
His cheeks bare a mild tinge of pink, from the sudden contact earlier, “You’re so welcome.” Realising you haven’t taken out a new film for you to return in future, his eyebrows knit together. “Will I see you again?” 
“Of course you will, I’ll be back soon for my next fix of cinema, and you best have more box office favourites to recommend for me.”
Another laugh escapes his lips and he bows his head slightly, “Damn... Still not letting me live that down?”
You shake your head as you push back from the counter and head back for the door, “Hell no.” You give him a small wave as you reach the exit, “See you soon.” 
He lifts his hand and returns your wave, smiling softly as you disappear back out into the bright daylight. Now, he just has to wait and see if you call...                 
                                                           ✦ ✦ ✦
Later that night, Steve’s phone in his bedroom rings with a metallic shrill and he jumps out of his skin. Lurching forward, he dives at the phone and yanks it from the stand, “Hello?”
On the other end of the phone, you’re taken aback by the utter speed at which he answered, but in a way, it makes your stomach tense in adoration. “Hey, Steve? It’s (y/n), from the video store.”
Although he’s been keeping himself within reach of his phone since he returned from work, he’s kind of surprised you’ve rang. He smiles at the fact you felt you needed to clarify where he knew you from, as if the pure sound of your voice wouldn’t be enough. “Hey.” He starts softly, “I’m glad you called.” 
You sit and wrap the cord so tightly around your fingers you can feel the tip of your finger throb, “Yeah I,” your voice comes out slightly horse, so you quickly clear your throat, “I wanted to straight away, when I saw your note. Which was cute, by the way.” Your cheeks redden at the admission.
“Cute, huh?” He toys back with you, and he crosses his leg over to stop his knee from bouncing wildly with nerves. You’re both a pile of nerves, it’s almost laughable. “So have you watched your new film yet?” 
“No, that’s why I was calling actually I-”
He frowns, assuming the worst, and cuts you off accidentally, “Ah shit is there something wrong with it? Have I fucked the tape up?” 
You pause for a moment, frowning slightly and unravelling the cord before you lose all feeling in your finger, “Oh, no no no. No, not at all. I haven’t actually watched it yet I was wondering if, if maybe you wanted to come and watch it with me?” Silence. He’s stunned that you’ve taken the leap and asked, he was convinced he was going to be the one to ask to make plans. You take his silence as polite rejection, imagining him pondering some lame excuse. “Never mind I knew it was stupid to ask, I’m sorry if I was too forward or whatever I’ve-”
This time he cuts you off before you spiral even more into territory where you simply don’t need to go, “No, hey, hey.” He cuts you off gently, “I would love to.” 
“Really?” Your shock rings through the receiver.
“Really.” He confirms, relaxing back into his chair, suddenly feeling a rush of warmth overcome him. 
You sigh audibly and it ruffles through into Steve’s ear, he smiles gently at just how precious you are. “My mom is in though, don’t worry. I don’t wanna give off the wrong impression.” 
“Hey, (y/n), you could never. Where abouts will I find your humble abode then?” 
A rush of giddiness flies through you and you physically shudder as if a bolt of electricity has just been pulsed through your spine. You relay your address to Steve, giving him some minor directions around town and he hums in recognition. He recognised the street name as the one behind Mike’s, so at least he already knows where to go, sort of. 
“I’ll leave the porch light on for you?” Your intonation peaks like you’re posing a question. “And I’ll keep an eye out for your car, too.” Because you know from the moment you hang up, you’re going to be sat watching the window in anticipation for him arriving. 
“Awesome, yeah. Awesome,” Here he is, back to repeating singular words. Hey, at least these ones were two syllables. “Am I good to come around now?” 
You nod enthusiastically, “Of course! Yeah, that’s totally fine.” 
Again, he smiles to himself and gets ready to wrap the conversation up so he can see you quicker. “Awesome.” Again? Seriously? “Looking forward to seeing you soon, (y/n).” 
The sound of his voice, confident but caring and gentle, fills your ear and you can’t believe you made the move. Well, technically he made the move by leaving his phone number in the box, but you’ve made the plans. 
“Me too, Steve. Drive safe!” You add before placing the telephone gently down against the stand. For a few seconds, you stare at the phone as if it’s an otherworldly item, come from outer space and you’re trying to figure out how it works. But really, you’re just replaying the conversation over again, making yourself believe what’s happening. You feel happy, overwhelmed, slightly nervous but excited all at the same time, you almost feel like you need to splash your face with freezing water to wake yourself up. But you’re awake, you haven’t dreamt it and Steve will be here soon to enjoy being in your presence. Because he likes you and he wants to spend time with you, because you were yourself, and he’s started to fall hard and fast. Not that you know that yet, of course. 
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can I request a one shot with Steve Harrington x fem!reader based on Just Friends by Jonas Brothers? 🥺
ahhh yes!! I love this idea. I’ll add it to my list🥰
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more than friends - a steve harrington imagine
summary: a real fluffy imagine after writing angst for the past few, best friends turns to lovers. Reader is teased about their close relationship with Steve by a jocky asshole, so Steve decides to do something about his feelings. both are obviously pining for each other but just don’t know how to do something about it!!
word count: 3.3k
warnings: really cringe asshole male talk about female character (inappropriate sexual remarks) & swearing.
thanks @urfriendlywriter for the friends to lovers confession prompt!!! <3
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“Alrighty class, notes for the biological study are on the blackboard, you have the full hour to complete this. I expect everyone to have the practical experiment done, and their write up started by the bell. Am I clear with that?” Mrs Peters stands with her hands on top of her blooming belly, slightly leaning against the desk with her hip. 
The class grumble a response and Mrs Peters smiles, nodding. “I’ll float until my ankles hurt,” She starts, hinting to her swollen pregnancy ankles and gets a murmur of laughter in response, “Off you go!” 
The equipment is already lain out for you and your lab partner, Brad. He stands awfully close to you as you sort through the different brightly coloured flowers scattering your table. You have a feeling you’ll end up doing all the work, with Brad copying everything down in the last ten minutes. 
“Jheez.” Brad whistles under his breath as the class volume raises to the sound of students discussing their impending flower dissections. “Wonder who the lucky bastard is that gets a ride on her.” You turn to face him, your insides screaming with utter disgust, he motions his head to Mrs Peters and slides his eyebrows up and down. 
“You’re disgusting.” You say to the white peony that you’ve set out for your first dissection. Brad hears, and just laughs to you. He takes that as a joke, as a compliment, and it disgusts you even more. “Can you start to take the petals off those,” your eyes flit to the five other flowers laid out in a neat, colourful row, “and make notes on their type of pollination?” A tinge of annoyance already lacing your voice.
“Their type’ah what now?” He sits picking the petals off roughly, not following any of Mrs Peters prior instructions, and that fills you with rage. As someone who excels in school and wants to do well, your lab partner pairing feels like someone, somewhere, wants to torture you. You realise that it’s going to be easier, and less painful, if you just do it. Just crack on with the lab practical and let Brad sit there and sniff the pretty petals. “Can you get high on this stuff?” He says, his nose dotted with a tiny bit of pollen from where he dug it into the centre of the flower.
You widen your eyes and nod enthusiastically, “High as a kite.” You confirm, sarcastically, and his eyes glow back at you. Jesus...
Time passes and you’re in your element, investigating stigmas and anthers up close under the microscope, adding to your quick diagrams of each part with brief, but helpful, notes. Ones that Brad will no doubt copy from in due course. He’s sitting, like an impatient child, folding and tearing the petals he picked off earlier. The only time he’s made an effort so far is when Mrs Peters made her rounds and he came to stand by you and ‘make notes’ on your observations, only to sit back down again and scribble in the margin of his notebook when she slunk back away.
“Harrington shown you a good time yet, huh?” Brad’s voice breaks the silence between the two of you and your cheeks flush a deep red as you squint through the lens of the microscope. A thick glob of saliva forms under your tongue which you swiftly swallow back. “Come on, we’re in biology... can we not discuss things like that?” 
You lift your head from the lens and look at him. His face is expectant, expectant of your response, hoping for a bite back, and he calmly crosses his arms over his chest. Your cheeks are still firing up, your vision goes slightly blurry for a short while as white-hot anger burns up inside you. After glaring at him for some time, you return to your position at the microscope.
Before you could realise, he’s bumping your arm with his and leaning down to speak to you, not even the beautifully intricate flower beneath you is giving you any sanity. “If he’s too much of a pussy to do it, let me show you what a good time is really like.” He’s so close you can feel his breath warm your ear and send shivers down your spine, feeling like it’s hitting every vertebrate on the way down. 
“Steve and I are just friends.” The more uninterested you seem, the more likely he is to give up on his pursuit and just shut the fuck up. Or so you’re hoping. 
He scoffs, “Pfft.” His tongue creeps from his mouth and licks his bottom lip, “Friends with benefits? C’mon. I ain’t stupid.” He goes quiet then you feel a soft tickle forming down your spine, Brad’s finger. Then, his breath back in your ear, “Bet he doesn’t know your sweet spots.” 
You shoot back from Brad, holding your hands up, like you’ve been scolded with a hot iron, “Okay. That’s it.” You charge from your station down to the front where Mrs Peters sits, grading papers. “Mrs Peters.” You say, quietly now that you’re down here, not wanting anyone to hear your conversation. In your hands, your fingers tremble slightly with the adrenaline of the conversation you just had. “I would like to request a change of lab partner.” Your voice comes out strong and confident but your face paints a different picture. “Please.”
Mrs Peters looks behind you, at your now half empty desk, and to Brad who sits and moves stems and petals around the table into a phallic shape. He grabs the attention of the pair in front, who seem displeased at the childish distraction. She raises her brows in his direction, when he meets her glare, his cheeks flush a light pink, and he rearranges the flowers into the muddle they were before. 
“Say no more, sweet pea.” She says with an exasperated sigh, shuffling papers to pull out her seating plan. You look over as she pulls a pencil from her pot and pats her lip with the eraser. “Eleanor’s in need of a partner.” She says, tracing over the spare seat on her plan, “That sound good?” Mrs Peter’s kind eyes meet your own and she offers you a sincere smile. 
“That would be great.” Your heart leaps with relief. 
“Finish up there for today, you can move on Monday. He can stay with me.” As you make your way back to your desk, Mrs Peters calls out from hers. “Brad Norton.” The class falls silent, her usual sing-song voice has turned cold, stern. “I don’t recall asking you to make penises with your pretty little flowers. You can stay and do your lab work, tho-rough-ly,” she sounds out each syllable in the word, the veins in her neck protruding with distaste at her student, “with me in detention.” 
The classroom remains quiet as you find your seat and complete your notes. “Bitch.” Is muttered venomously from next to you and you’re unsure if it’s directed at you or Mrs Peters, but you’re past caring. 
                                                          ✦ ✦ ✦
On Friday nights, you and Steve like to walk from school to the diner which flickers welcomingly in the dark winter light as you approach. As usual, you take to your table which is located in the corner of the diner. It is cosy. You love coming here, especially with Steve. It’s a time that you can spend together, just the two of you, have a burger, have a milkshake, and just catch up on the week. You adore your Friday nights with Steve. 
Now, you’re leaning against the comfy backing of the squishy diner chair, the fabric crinkling awkwardly as you get yourself comfortable. You’ve both cleared your plates, smears of ketchup and dustings of salt lie in remnant of what was two full plates of burgers and fries. Gluttonously, as your stomach feels heavy with the greasy food that you adore, you continue to gulp your milkshake. 
“I heard Brad Norton got a detention today in bio.” Steve finishes dragging his last fry through a dreg of ketchup before placing it into his mouth, laughing at the new conversation topic. You simply roll your eyes and let the milkshake freeze your back teeth before swallowing. 
“He’s an asshole.” You retort, swirling your straw around in the thick, creamy drink. Your eyes stay fixed on the pink substance in your glass, watching the small particles of ice slowly melt the more you stir. “I’ve switched partners, finally. I asked Mrs Peters to move.” 
“Really?” 
You nod, your brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah. I don’t fancy sitting and getting creepy back strokes from him for the rest of the year.” 
Steve sits back against the seat, “He did what?” A surge of jealousy, and anger flits through him and you can see it flash across his eyes, a change so subtle you feel proud you noticed. He knows that would’ve made you uncomfortable and he knows where Brad usually goes on a Friday night, he runs over the possibility of going there and beating the shit out of him, but quickly decides that would be a terrible idea. “Is that what he got his detention for? Being a creep?” 
You laugh slightly, “Close.” You take another gulp of milkshake. “He was making dicks out of the flowers.” You realise you’re talking to your milkshake and not to Steve, he’s noticed too and realises there’s more to this story than you’re letting on. He knows you too well. 
“You sure that’s all he did?” He knows not to push things with you, but the feeling is bubbling up inside of him. 
You toy with the idea for a moment. Tell Steve, let Steve get angry and potentially make your favourite night of the week awkward? Or, don’t tell Steve, enjoy each other’s company and go from there? 
You’ve both been close to sharing your feelings with each other on multiple occasions, sat in this very booth. The diner must have an aura that allows you to become content with your feelings with one another, almost becoming more than friends. The diner is where you’ve shared feelings, ranted about shitty weeks, shitty dates; cried into milkshakes over the clear downfall of Hawkins. But it’s also where you’ve brushed hands as you reach for napkins, letting your fingertips linger a little longer than is necessary. It’s where you’ve held eye contact as you talk about things that interest you, the other listening with intent adoration. His eyes glisten as he listens to you discuss another biological theory that you love talking about with him, his lips curling as he listens intently and marvels at your passion and drive for science. You return the active listening as he discusses the trips to the Upside Down, watch little pieces of him break apart as he cracks open his memories of things he tries so hard to supress, but keep creeping back into his consciousness. 
So, with all that in mind, you decide to tell him. “He quizzed me on whether you show me a good time.” You blurt out, placing your milkshake down and folding your arms onto the table. “said he would show me a good time, said he knew my sweet spots. Basically, he spent the lesson trying to get into my pants.” 
His face is a picture of disgust, his eyebrows furrowing so deep you think they’ll knit together. “I promise you; he is one of a kind.” He holds his hands up in defence, “We are not all sex crazed lunatics who like making people feel uncomfortable.” His features soften and he looks over to you, taking in your features as he likes to here. They look softer in the glow of the luminous light that hangs above their window, the streetlights casting a yellow tinge into the corner where you sit tucked away. “I’m sorry he made you feel like that.” His voice is sincere.
You shake it off with a whip of a hand, “Shall we get out of here?” 
He nods, leaving the money on the table. “Come back to mine? We can watch a movie.” 
As you stand to straighten yourself up, you smile back at him warmly, nodding gently at his offer. 
                                                         ✦ ✦ ✦
Warm waves of air circulate out of the heater placed by your feet as you sit in Steve’s basement on the couch, watching a new film Steve rented out. You haven’t really been paying attention, you’ve been more interested in gradually moving your limbs inch by inch closer to Steve’s, your breath hitching as you feel him doing the same. Soon enough, you’re sat with your arms pressed against one another and your leg is resting comfortably against his. 
“Can’t stop thinking about what that asshole said to you.” His voice sounds weird after not talking for so long, the only sound being the grumbling heater and the soundtrack of the film playing out in front of you.
You rub his arm gently, sighing, “Stop thinking about it Steve, he’s not worth it.” 
“No, I know.” He’s quiet for a while again, the flickers of vibrant colours on the screen lighting up his features and your eyes travel around them all. He feels your eyes on him and leans to pause the TV, the sudden cut of sound making the room feel too quiet. Your breathing slows, waiting for him to start the conversation again. Sheepishly, you slowly pull your hand from his arm, suddenly feeling awkward having left it there for so long. He turns his body so he’s facing you and you scoot back a touch, propping your arm up on the back of the couch and leaning your head against your palm.
“Penny for your thoughts?” You probe delicately, you can tell he has something whirlpooling in his mind. 
He shakes his head, smiling coyly. “Just thinking.” 
“About...” Your hands tumble over one another, hinting for him to go on. 
“You.” His bluntness makes your stomach squeeze tight, as if you’ve just dropped from one of those free-fall rides at the amusement park. His face remains unchanged, his eyes studying yours. “Thinking about you.” 
Slowly, you take a deep breath in. Unaware you were holding it in the first place. “Why me?” Annoyingly, your voice comes out as quiet as the hum of the heater, almost inaudible to someone who wasn’t trained in on the conversation. Suddenly the room feels warm, and you realise this could be the time to have the conversation you’ve been longing to have.
“’Cause I think about you all the time.”
You’d hoped all this time that he does just that.
And he does, he thinks of you when you aren’t there, when he’s lonely, when he feels sad, when he lies awake at night wishing he could turn over and feel the warmth of your skin against this. Wishing he could spend the night with you in a blur of heavy breathing, lustful kisses and soft moans. Wishing he could tell you how much you mean to him afterwards, holding you close whilst you both catch your breath and settle into the sheets in a dream-like state. He’s realising now how close he is to having all of this. To having you. If you want him, that is. 
“I know you feel what I feel.” His voice is low and his hand travels to rest just in between the two of you, like he wanted to commit to holding you but got scared half-way and changed his mind. 
A speckle of heat rests on your cheeks. “What is it that you feel?” Again, your voice is quiet, and you feel the pulse thick and fast, the heat rising up your neck from your chest. 
He clears his throat. “I know we both enjoy the time we spend together, as friends. But I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Silence settles over the pair of you, but you know that he’s not done yet, so you wait patiently for him to continue. “You make me feel so comfortable and you always know how to cheer me up, when to give me space, when to distract me from whatever’s going on...”
Hairs on the back of your neck prickle as the tingling sensation of adrenaline courses through your body. He continues, “I hate the fact that even assholes like Brad know there is something between us.” He sighs softly but carries on, “The fact that we haven’t even done as much as discussed how we feel, yet he’s happy to make degrading sexual comments to you about us.” 
You nod along in agreement. “I know.” Suddenly, your whole body feels drawn to him and you slide back along the couch, shuffling down into his side and placing your head in the crook of his neck, resting your arm over his stomach. This feels right, you think to yourself happily. “I love spending time with you, too. I have loved growing close to you these past few months and I-”
He lets his arm fall around your shoulders and he cuts you off, “Wait.” He insists as you feel his other hand come to rest gently against your neck, his thumb resting lightly against your jaw. “Look at me when you say it.” With his hand still resting on your neck, he gradually guides your face up so that it’s inches away from his own. His eyes travelling lazily over your features he’s grown to know so well before locking in with your own. 
Inside your chest, your heart is hammering wildly. Never have you been this close. Never this intimate. “I want to be with you, Steve.” You quietly admit, although it’s not much of a shocker. A smile forms on his lips, which have now moved ever so close to your own. Impatient and running on adrenaline, you close the gap between the pair of you and bring your lips together. His hand stays firmly on your neck, his fingertips gradually gripping the hair at the nape of your neck as your fist grasps his t-shirt as the kiss intensifies. 
The months of longing are finally coming to a head here and now as you are both desperate for each other. Not just in a sexual longing, but an emotional and physical intimacy longing, too. You can feel yourself getting lulled further into the kiss as his tongue searches for your own. 
After a few moments have passed, you both pull away gently, chests slightly heaving as you both work to catch some of your breath back. You rest your forehead against his and brush your nose past his, moving back to give him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “What do you say then?” You can see the happiness radiating across his face, the creases by his eyes and the soft pink glow gives it all away. His thumb traces across your cheek, “You wanna give us a shot?” He says.
Nodding, you reflect the same happiness glow that Steven is portraying. “I wanna give us the best shot.” 
Satisfied, he takes his hand back from your face and you feel how hot your cheek has been under his touch. He holds you close to him as he reaches back down to play the movie. A couple minutes later, he clears his throat. “And, if ‘Brad’” He uses air-quotes around his name, “Or any of his asshole friends wanna make any comments to you again, I’ll drop those motherfuckers.” He point blank says as his eyes follow along with the scene playing out in the movie before you.
The sudden threat from Steve brings a laugh out from you and it fills the room. Your shoulders shake as your laugh intensifies; he gestures his hands towards the TV. “Hey, do you mind keeping it down? Trying to watch a movie here.” He tuts and shakes his head playfully before resting it on top of your own, tracing his fingertips over your arm so that tiny goosebumps raise on your skin. A couple of minutes later, you find your breathing rising and falling at the same time as Steve’s, your eyes fall softly closed as you’re lulled into a light sleep, cocooned under the blankets and Steve’s arms. 
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beer fear - Steve Harrington imagine
summary: Steve takes a very drunk reader home from a party. Steve and reader are just friends, but reader is falling in love with Steve.... written the morning after the night before.
warnings: mentions of drinking (unable to recall drinking episode) and hangovers
word count: 1k (very short so is this still an imagine??? too long for a drabble so I’ll just stick with imagine lol)
                                                 ✦    ✦    ✦    ✦
A sudden hot flash of pain spreads across your forehead as your eyes peel open, adjusting to the early morning light that floods your room. Your curtains are wide open, and your mouth is like cotton. To clear the dryness, you move your tongue back over the roof of your mouth a few times, forcing saliva around your mouth.
You’d spent last night at party and drank way too much. You’re not a big drinker, at all, but the people you spent last night with weren’t exactly great influencers. So here you are the next morning, having only been awake for 30 seconds, and already feeling painfully sorry for yourself. 
Your body stays cocooned underneath your duvet, you have no idea how you got home or when you got home. With the realisation that you can’t recall any details of the previous night, a hot flush of nausea rushes through you and you have to sit up. However, you sit up way too quickly, and it causes the pounding in your head to intensify. You don’t hear Steve enter your bedroom as you sit with your head in between your fingers, slowly massaging your forehead.
“Oh hey, you’re awake.” His voice is gentle, but you look up with a start, not expecting to see anyone this morning, especially Steve. You dread to think what you look like; you’re most definitely sporting a solid pair of racoon eyes since you highly doubt your makeup was removed.
“Steve?” You look at him quizzically as he carries a fresh glass of water to your bed side with two pills. Do your eyes deceive you or is he really in your room right now? “What, when did you- how-” You point to the glass, then back to Steve, then back to yourself, struggling to form a coherent sentence. He straightens the duvet to make sure your legs aren’t underneath, then plants himself down on the edge of your bed. “How did I get home?” You question dumbfoundedly. You hate feeling like this and vouch to yourself to never let it happen again.
“Robin called me.” He admits, looking slightly sheepish. He’s never seen you like this before, and you feel deeply ashamed. He wasn’t even at the party, that shows how bad you must’ve been. “I came to pick you up, so I brought you home. I didn’t know where any of your stuff was to you know, take off your makeup or anything.” That confirms your racoon eye suspicions. “And I didn’t wanna change your clothes or anything, with the state you were in.” He half laughs, then his face quickly returns sullen and serious. “I hope you don’t mind but I stayed over.” 
“Did we...?” You point to the empty side of the bed and then back to Steve, he’s going to need to fill in all the blanks for you.
At his realisation of what you mean, his eyes go wide, and he shakes his head furiously, “Oh God, no!! No. Absolutely not. I did sleep on the floor though, just at the bottom of your bed.” He sighs heavily and rubs his eyes as he points behind with his thumb, he doesn’t seem to have had much sleep. “I was petrified you’d puke in your sleep, so I wanted to be nearby.” You grimace and your stomach churns at the thought. “You didn’t, though.” He quickly adds, knowing you get anxious about that sort of stuff. 
With the return of your cotton mouth, you reach over and gulp down half the glass of water. The sudden addition of liquid to your stomach makes it lurch and you breathe deeply through the nauseous feeling, massaging your wrists. You close your eyes and breathe in deeper, letting the silence settle over the pair of you like a thick blanket. You still feel him, slightly weighing down the bed, and it comforts you knowing he’s here. 
After a few moments, and your nausea, have passed you open your eyes to see Steve looking over at you. When your eyes suddenly meet, he turns his gaze away, almost embarrassed that he was caught staring. “I’m so sorry.” Your voice is weak and quiet. 
He looks back at you now, brows furrowed, “Hey, what for?” His arm stretches out and he rests his hand where he can feel your leg.
“I probably spoilt your evening, spoilt whatever lovely plans you had for last night.” 
He laughs slightly and shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t have any plans. Besides, you’re cute when you’re drunk.” 
You feel for a minute you’re still drunk. Cute? He’d never described you as cute. You can’t muster up a witty remark or even attempt to question the word, so you let it slide. “I owe you one, big time.” Leisurely, your mouth pulls into a smile, and you look over at Steve, who gradually pulls his hand back then pats them onto his knees. Feelings of gratitude and admiration fill you as you realise how kind he’d been to you. To bring you home safely, look after you, watch over you... He hardly slept a wink last night. Any stir or noise from you caused him to jump up and come to your side, ensuring you were okay. Which, of course, you were. He’d just tuck you back in and make sure you looked relatively comfortable before returning to his little pile of blankets and pillows on your floor. 
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to repay me.” He smiles back at you warmly, his eyes looking tired and sleepy. 
“I’m gonna shower. I feel gross.” As you start to sit up further, Steve steps up and away from the bed. 
He nods and starts to walk towards your bedroom door, “Do you want breakfast? I can make it for when you’re out of the shower?” He wrings his hands nervously, which he never usually does around you. Maybe it’s a tiredness thing. 
You nod gratefully, “I’d love that.” 
Steve leaves you to it to gather your things for the shower as he goes off to start breakfast. The fact Steve’s done all this for you only makes that deep feeling of admiration and love grow bigger inside of you. You think of how comforting, how reassuring it is, knowing he’s so close to you. As you shower, you’re left hoping that the two of you waking up together and having breakfast will be a delightful recurrence. Only under less hungover circumstances.
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𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.8k words
summary: in which a mutual wingman situation forces two strangers to talk to one another. both you and steve are only doing it to help your friends, but it surprises you how effortless talking to him is. simply the idea of love or even deeply liking someone has always made you nervous and scared, and would usually lead you to running away rather than facing your feelings. but, maybe it’s this unfamiliar comfort you find yourself quickly having with steve that can make you finally want to do the opposite of run and actually dive headfirst into what you’re feeling
warnings: explicit language, some drinking, a lil fluff, kissing, implied smut, overall just a fun time
author’s note: first time in a while writing something that is not full of angst and sadness lmao anyway hope y’all enjoy this!<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Steve’s POV
He looked at you from across the bar where you were talking and laughing with your friend. He wasn’t sure what he would say to you. There was something about you that seemed too good for him; the little black dress you were wearing with a slightly oversized jacket on top and the sweet smile on your lips as you animatedly talked to your friend. 
It made him not want to say anything to you because it felt like a rejection would be in his imminent future. However, Robin had other plans. 
“She’s so cute,” She said but was referring to your friend. “You have to wingman for me and talk to her friend while I talk to her, Harrington.” When she noticed Steve’s hesitance, she continued. “What are best friends for, if not helping the other one get laid?”
He rolled his eyes at that and didn’t say anything. 
Robin nudged him lightly. “Also, I’m pretty sure the friend is straight and she’s really cute too, so maybe you’ll have a chance.” 
Finally, Steve said something. “Exactly. She’s so hot and I can already see myself fucking up under the pressure.” He took another quick glance in your direction. 
Robin gave him a soft pat on the shoulder. “I take back everything I ever said about your lack of charm. Those days at Scoops are far behind us. You’re the best flirt I know.”
Steve was quick to take notice of the grimace she was trying to hide behind her forced smile. “Did it actually pain you to say that?”
“A little bit, yeah,” She said with a small laugh. “But, anyway, let’s get another drink, and then we’ll go over there and you’ll be fine. I pro– Wait, shit, shit. They’re walking over here. Toward us.”
Before Robin could narrate any further, you went up to Steve while your friend pulled Robin in for a conversation. 
You pointed at him. “I almost wore that tonight.” 
Even though he knew you were joking, he still glanced down at the jeans and navy blue t-shirt he was wearing over a dark denim jacket. “Good thing you didn’t. One of us would’ve had to leave.”
“Exactly,” You said with a nod. “And that probably would’ve been so awkward for you.” 
“Why would I be the one to leave?”
You shrugged. “I mean I think it would be the obvious choice.” 
“I think I’m a very valuable asset to have here,” He said. “But, I’m also a gentleman, so I would have left, no questions asked.” 
“Very, very honorable of you,” You said and then took a sip from the drink in your hand. Steve could see you trying to hide your smile. All too quickly his nerves from before managed to slip away. 
He nodded his head toward the glass in your hand. “What are you drinking?”
“Vodka cranberry,” You answered before taking another quick sip. “Absolutely horrific but it usually does the job.” You then took notice of the drink in his hand. “Definitely not as horrific as that beer, though.” 
“Hey, you can’t go wrong with a simple beer,” He said, pretending to be much more offended by your statement than he actually was. 
“I think it is very wrong, actually,” You told him. “But, I’m a sweet and nice person, so I won’t judge you any further, even though there is a lot more I could say about that beer.” 
Steve smiled at that. “Very honorable of you.”
A brief lull of silence prevailed for a moment and Steve almost decided to randomly mention how he actually never had a vodka cranberry before, but you started speaking before he could. 
“Okay, full transparency, my friend is interested in your friend, and I’m just trying to be a good friend and wingwoman for her by talking to you.”
Steve laughed a bit. “I was tasked with doing the same thing, actually.”
“Wow,” You responded with a small laugh of your own. “They’re both interested in each other, so I guess our jobs are already done.” 
A small smirk played on Steve’s lips. “Shall we get beers to celebrate a job well done?”
After inwardly cringing at the thought of drinking a beer, you couldn’t help but laugh loudly at Steve’s offer. “You’re the worst.”
“You want another vodka cranberry instead?”
“I will happily take that.” 
He signaled the bartender and ordered the simple drink. As the two of you waited, he turned to look at you.
“I’m Steve, by the way,” He said and then pointed in the direction of where Robin and your friend were now happily talking to one another about ten feet away. “And that’s Robin.” 
“Y/N,” You said and then gestured toward your friend. “And Marissa.”
The bartender slid you your drink and you smiled in thanks before grabbing it. 
“Are you from Indianapolis?” Steve asked.
“No, I moved here from Illinois for a job about a year ago,” You answered and then took another sip from the glass in your hand. “And to be closer to my boyfriend too.” 
Steve pretended that he was unfazed by your casual mention of having a boyfriend, even though he was very much fazed by it. He came to the quick conclusion that the playful banter you two shared was just that, playful banter. There actually weren’t any flirty undertones to it, although he could’ve sworn they were right there. 
“What’s your job?” He asked, even though he wanted to say, “So, tell me more about your boyfriend” because he now wanted to torture himself and hear more about the guy. 
“It’s in marketing. Specifically, working on pitches and ads for different clothing brands.”
“Was that–” Before he could finish asking if that’s what you always wanted to do, Marissa was suddenly in front of the two of you and grabbing your hand. 
“So sorry to interrupt, I’m just gonna steal her for a quick second.” 
Y/N’s POV
You were pulled to a different part of the bar, maybe only fifteen feet away from Steve, and you could see him and Robin now talking. 
“Everything’s going great and she’s so cool and funny,” Marissa told you, a wide smile on her face as she spoke. You hadn’t seen her this giddy about someone in a while, so you felt really happy for her and couldn’t help but smile back. “We wanna go to the roller rink down the street that closes at two. Since we both suck at skating we thought it could be funny to do it together.”
“Okay, that’s great and kind of disgustingly cute,” You responded, still smiling because there was something about Marissa’s happiness that felt contagious. “So, now that my work here is done, I’m just gonna head back to the apartment. Car keys, please?”
“No.”
“What? I promise I’m so sober right now that it’s actually kind of sad,” You assured her. “I only had one full drink and barely a few sips of the other.”
“No, I mean you have to come too just in case something weird happens or I say something stupid and fuck things up and need to get out of there easily,” She explained, and due to her overthinker personality, you could actually understand that reasoning. “Plus she’s gonna make her friend come too, and you guys seemed like you were actually having a good time talking. Maybe it can turn into something a little less friendly, like, hopefully, me and Robin?”
“That might be a little impossible because I already lied and told him I had a boyfriend.”
“Why did you say that?” She asked and you were at a loss for words after hearing her question, because you actually weren’t entirely sure why you lied. You were quiet for too long, which made Marissa follow up with another question. “Oh, is he weird?”
“No, no,” You responded almost immediately. In fact, Steve was pretty much the opposite of weird, he was actually kind of funny and nice. And the almost effortless banter you two managed to share slightly surprised you. “I don’t know why I said it, it was just like a reflex.”
“We gotta talk about this self-sabotage thing you do soon,” She said, and it was in honest moments like that where you were read like a book, that you didn’t like that you’d known your best friend for almost your entire life and that she was currently getting her Masters in Psychology. “Actually, in one of my classes–”
“Nope, nope, nope,” You were quick to interrupt her. “I love you, but I’d rather not be psychoanalyzed tonight.”
“We’ll table that conversation for an early Sunday morning talk over coffee,” Marissa told you, and before you could protest that idea, she continued. “But, anyway, so you’re coming to the roller rink, right?”
After taking a quick glance over at where Steve and Robin were talking to one another, you nodded your head. “Yes, but this feels slightly like a hostage situation.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
You and Steve trailed a bit behind Robin and Marissa as you all walked down the street to the skating rink. It wasn’t that cold out, but you could still feel some goosebumps rising on your bare legs.
“Okay, scale from zero to ten,” You started and looked at Steve. “How good are your roller skating skills?”
“I’d say a solid nine. I can’t do any crazy tricks or whatever, but I never fall,” He answered. “You?”
“I’m definitely a two or three. I somehow fall way too easily,” You told him. “So to save myself from a shit ton of embarrassment, I’m not gonna skate tonight. But, I will cheer you all on from the sidelines.”
Steve shook his head at your words. “Since we’re both the extra wheels in this equation we gotta stick together, so I won’t skate either. It’ll be entertaining watching them fumble around, though. Robin’s probably one of the clumsiest people I know. Is Marissa good?”
“She’s just as bad as me,” You answered and then smiled. “So, yes, this will be very entertaining to watch.” 
The two of you were sitting on a bench, watching Marissa and Robin hold hands and go around and around the wooden rink. You and Steve couldn’t help but laugh every time one of them stumbled and grabbed onto the other to regain balance or when they both simultaneously stumbled and then fell completely. But it felt okay to laugh at them because they were laughing loudly at themselves.
“They are so into each other, it’s kind of insane,” You said with a wistful smile as you popped some skittles in your mouth; you had gotten a pack from the vending machine that was by the entrance. You held it toward Steve in a silent offering and when he opened his palm toward you, you poured some into his cupped hand.
“Yeah, they’re disgustingly cute,” Steve responded as he ate the skittles you gave him. “They also probably wouldn’t even notice if we left right now.”
“That’s so true,” You told him, and then almost immediately remembered something. “Wait, shit. Marissa has the car keys, so I can’t even drive home.”
“I can drive you.”
Steve was still practically a stranger to you, so it probably would’ve made more sense for you to say no to him, but you found yourself not wanting to say no to his offer. And you promptly decided that you would not think about why you felt that way. 
“Okay,” You said with a nod and got up from the bench you two were sitting on, and then adjusted your dress which had ridden up a bit.
The two of you finished off the rest of the skittles as you walked back toward the bar and headed to the small parking lot that was attached to it. 
You stepped into Steve’s car and got comfortable in the passenger seat. “Okay, so feel free to say no, but I’m kinda hungry and those skittles weren’t enough, and McDonald's sounds like both a very bad idea but also a very good one right now.”
Steve laughed at that. “I think it's a great idea. And I’m pretty sure there’s one that’s five minutes away.”
“That’s the exact reason why it was on my mind,” You said with a smile and buckled your seatbelt as Steve began driving. 
Barely fifteen minutes later, you two were sat in the McDonald’s parking lot eating burgers and fries in Steve’s car. It was quiet, which made sense since you were both enjoying the fast food that would probably murder your stomachs later, and the only sound filling the car aside from the chewing noises was the random songs playing on the radio. 
You were suddenly hit with the realization that you had never been this comfortable around a guy before. If the circumstances were different, and if it wasn’t Steve sitting next to you right then, you knew that you would’ve been so much more self-conscious about the way you were eating and if you were doing it too “messily.” And you also knew that you’d be so much more worried about the silence because it had never felt this relaxed with someone that you barely knew before. 
“I lied earlier,” You abruptly said as you ate one of the few stray fries you had left. 
“About what?”
You could feel his gaze on you, but you refused to meet his eyes right then because you had a feeling you’d get all flustered if you did, so instead, you kept your eyes trained forward as you answered his question. “I, um, I actually don’t have a boyfriend.”
Steve was quiet for a few moments and you wondered if he was mad at you for lying to him. When you finally forced yourself to look at him, you saw that he was smiling.
You let out a small laugh. “Damn, don’t look so happy that I’m actually single and alone.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just… I don’t know,” Steve trailed off for a second and you looked at him with confused eyes until he said his next words. “I’m glad that it was a lie.”
You didn’t push him further on what he meant by that, mainly because a large part of you felt like you could easily read between those lines, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. 
You simply hummed in response and grabbed your soda from the cup holder and took a sip from what was barely left of it. 
When you placed it back down, you glanced at Steve. “I’m just now realizing how shit my small talk skills are because I never reciprocated and asked you if you’re from here or not.”
“I’ve definitely been thinking about that the entire time we’ve been together,” He told you, and you could hear the joking undertones in his voice. “Something like, ‘Wow, I can’t believe she doesn’t care about my life story. She probably hates me.’”
You laughed despite yourself. “Stop, I really do feel bad. Also, if I did hate you, you’d definitely know it, and I probably wouldn’t be in a car with you right now.”
“Okay, glad to know you like me.”
“Indifference is also not hate, just so you know.”
He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Ouch.”
“I’m fully kidding. You just set me up too perfectly for that one.” A small laugh fell from your lips. “Anyway, tell me your life story because I do care.”
Steve smiled at that. “I’m not from Indianapolis, but I am from Indiana. Me and Robin used to live in a small town called Hawkins. It’s maybe like two or three hours from here.”
“Why’d you guys come here?”
“Just wanted a change, I guess.”
You turned your head to look at him and he immediately met your gaze. “That answer had the perfect amount of vagueness.”
Steve was quiet for a moment and then he smirked at you. “I actually moved here to be closer to my girlfriend.” 
“The fake boyfriend or girlfriend card can only be used once in a conversation, and since I already used it you gotta give me something else,” You told him, your voice completely serious even though you were trying your hardest not to laugh. 
“Oh sorry, I meant wife, actually.”
You couldn’t help but laugh that time. “Okay, I’ll allow that.” 
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“Hm, but it’s pretty weird to be alone in a car with a random girl when you have a wife at home.”
“She likes when I put myself out there,” He said with a small shrug. 
It was entirely too hard to hide your amused smile, but you still broke eye contact with him and looked straight ahead as you bit your lip to do so. “Very interesting dynamic you two have.”
“Yeah, it works well for us, though.” He nodded and then changed the subject. “Okay, this is random and a completely different topic from me and my fictional wife, but I wanted to ask you this earlier. With your job, the marketing and clothing stuff, was that always what you wanted to do?”
Hearing him ask you about your job slightly surprised you because it had been such a brief part of your conversation earlier that you barely even remembered telling it to him. Your eyes met his again.
“I don’t know. Honestly, not really. It was one of the things that kind of just… happened? When the opportunity fell into my lap I didn’t wanna say no to it, and I really love the job, actually,” You explained, keeping your answer brief and somewhat to the point because there was a lot more that you could’ve said to him about how you ended up where you currently were job-wise. 
Like how you’d felt as if you had been in such a rut in your life before you met Louisa, your now boss, at the coffee shop that you worked at in your hometown. And how she ultimately offered you the job on a random Wednesday after you gave her her usual coffee and then when noticing how irritated she looked as she stared at a campaign that her team had been working on for the past few weeks, you stated that the font should be changed and the slogan should be reworked too, and then offered a suggestion for a new slogan that was near perfect in her eyes. You solved the problem she’d been having for days with such ease that it slightly took her aback and she offered you the job right then and there. And the opportunity kind of felt a little too perfect because even though it was in a different state, you were completely ready for a change and Marissa was already in Indianapolis for college. 
But you didn’t want to ramble too much to Steve right then. 
“Although, it probably doesn’t look like I work with clothes because this outfit kinda sucks.” You then smiled at him. “I should’ve just worn yours like I initially wanted to tonight.”
He let out a small laugh. “What you’re wearing definitely does not suck, it was one of the reasons why I was so nervous to talk to you tonight.”
You had to roll your eyes at that because you fully did not believe him. “Oh, whatever.”
“I’m completely serious,” He told you. “When Robin noticed Marissa and then pointed you out too, I immediately thought you were way too good for me, and my brain shut off completely. It’s a very good thing you guys came up to us because my initial words to you probably would’ve been something very stupid.”
“You thought I was too good for you?” Your words had come out sounding completely confused and a little amused because you were certain that he had to be joking. 
“There was just something about you. Really cool, very hot, a little intimidating.”
You pretended as if you were entirely unfazed by the “very hot” comment, although it made your heart constrict. “What about now? Do you still think I’m “too good”?”
“Oh, definitely.” There was so much certainty behind his two words that you actually felt kinda flattered; mostly confused, but also a little flattered. 
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m probably the opposite of too good,” You said and before he could potentially rebuttal your statement, you continued and slightly shifted the subject. “What about you, though? What’s your job or whatever you do?”
“My dad set me up with this job at his friend’s company here,” Steve answered, his voice was softer, almost as if he was slightly embarrassed by his answer. “Probably one of the only good things he’s ever done for me. But, I do think his main motive was to just get me out of the house; which I was honestly very happy to do.” 
“Another person with parent issues. Glad to know we always somehow manage to find each other. Mine’s with my mom, though,” You said, cracking a small smile and Steve smiled back at you. “But, anyway, do you like the job?”
He was quick to shake his head. “It’s really corporate and feels a little useless.”
You nodded understandingly at his answer. “Do you know what you wanna do instead?” 
Steve was quiet for a few moments and you could tell from the look on his face that he was truly thinking about his answer. “The last few years have been really weird, to say the least, and I had no time to really think about the future. But now that I can, I’m still trying to figure out what I want.” 
There was something about the way he briefly talked about whatever he had gone through back home that told you that he didn’t want to delve further into an explanation about it, at least not right then. So, you didn’t ask him to elaborate, even though you were really curious.
“You’ll figure it out,” You said instead. “Sometimes it’s the random opportunity that falls into your lap that makes you realize exactly what you want and what actually makes you happy.”
What you didn't say, but did realize in that moment, was that maybe he was the “random opportunity” that had fallen into your lap that night. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Hours passed and the two of you kept talking and couldn’t seem to stop. Midnight turned to one in the morning and then one in the morning turned to two, and you were still sitting in Steve’s car, laughing and talking about nothing but also everything.
Something about this moment with him felt significant to you. Like the start of something new, something good. And of course, that scared you a lot, for the same reason you had lied to him earlier about having a boyfriend. But, for the first time in a long time, you felt scared in a good way, if that was even possible. 
You ended up in the parking lot of your apartment building around two-thirty with plans to finally say goodnight to one another. However, you felt so comfortable in his car and with Steve that you found it hard to make yourself leave, even though you were slowly getting more and more tired and Steve easily noticed it.
“You’re falling asleep.”
You turned to him, head still resting against the headrest and eyes still shut. “Only a little bit.”
“Let me walk you upstairs.”
You didn’t necessarily want to leave, but you still gave Steve a small nod because you did feel like you were going to fully pass out at any moment. “Okay. But, you might immediately regret coming up because the elevator in the building is broken and I’m on the fifth floor.” 
“That’s fine. My years of being a high school athlete have prepared me for this moment.”
“Well, in that case, can I request a piggyback ride because I didn’t play sports in school, and I easily get winded walking up these stairs.” 
“I know you’re probably joking but I would happily do that.”
You almost responded with “Piggyback rides are no joking matter,” even though you definitely were joking, but when you finally opened your eyes and noticed the soft smile that Steve was giving you, you immediately felt flustered.
Fuck, you really liked him, and maybe it should’ve been the hours of nonstop conversation and laughter that told you that, but instead, it was him smiling at you like no guy ever had before and practically offering to give you a piggyback ride up five flights of stairs that let you know just how in deep you already were. 
“I don’t think your wife would approve of that,” You finally said and Steve laughed. 
“Yeah, you’re right.”
When the two of you were standing in front of your apartment door, following the trek up the stairs that managed to only slightly wind you, you looked at Steve.
“Thanks for the ride and the food and yeah… Just thanks for everything that happened tonight, really.” It surprised you how nervous you were right then, and if Steve noticed your nervousness, he didn’t make it seem like he did.
“Thank you for everything too. Those skittles were great,” He said and you couldn’t help but smile at that. 
You moved toward your door, but before putting your key in it and saying a final goodbye to Steve, you abruptly turned around and let your mouth move quicker than your brain.
“Can I try something really quick?”
A confused look crossed his face. “Okay?”
You moved closer to him, closing the barely there space between you two, and placed a hand on his cheek. Your other hand found his shoulder and you pushed yourself up on your toes a bit so that you could softly slot your lips against his. You had absolutely no idea where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but, at that moment, you forced yourself not to question it and instead jump headfirst into your feelings.
It was easy to tell that Steve was surprised by the kiss, and you almost pulled away and apologized profusely for doing it, but then something switched in a matter of milliseconds and he was oh so quickly kissing you back. Hands found your waist, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his touch through the thin material of your dress. 
You were softly pressed against the door as Steve deepened the kiss, and your hands moved and found home in the hair at the nape of his neck. Everything about that moment felt easy; easy and right. Your mouths moved against each other almost as if it was second nature and it almost upset you how this had not happened sooner because of how right it was. So fucking right. 
And this quickly became one of those moments that you wanted to be etched in your memory forever while simultaneously never wanting it to end in the first place. 
When you finally pulled away, mainly to catch your breath, you looked up at him and smiled. “You taste like onions.”
“So do you. Maybe that McDonald’s really was a bad idea.”
Steve was looking at you so sweetly that it made you want to kiss him again and then a thousand more times after that. However, before you could even get that second kiss in, the door opened behind you. 
You yelped at the sudden action and Steve’s hands immediately tightened on your waist so that you wouldn’t fall back. 
“Oh, shit, my bad.”
It was Robin’s voice and you were confused to see her right then, standing in your doorway, until you noticed Marissa a bit behind her and the slightly disheveled states they were both in. You didn’t want to think about what they had just finished doing. You were also surprised that you didn’t notice Marissa’s car in the parking lot, but your thoughts had mainly been on Steve, so it slightly made sense. 
“Wow, perfect timing, Harrington,” Robin said, and then saw the close proximity between you and Steve. “Unless you two were…?”
“No, we were just saying goodnight,” You told her and then turned to Steve, letting your hands fall from where they were still wrapped around the back of his neck. “Goodnight.” 
Instead of initially responding with a simple goodnight of his own, he leaned down and kissed you again. It was a quick one and when he pulled back, he smiled at you and your flustered expression. “Goodnight.”
“I hate you for that. Now Marissa’s gonna force me to do a huge storytime,” You whispered, only half-heartedly glaring at him because a part of you still felt way too high on cloud nine from kissing him.  
“Make sure to tell her how great I am,” He whispered back and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your heart fluttered at the simple yet tender action as he let go of your waist and moved away from you, he and Robin both started heading toward the stairwell.  
When the door was closed and it was only you and Marissa left alone in your shared apartment, she immediately smiled at you. “Hell yes, so we can do double dates.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes at her excited statement, but you had to admit, you felt a little excited too. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
(((part two!)))
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must be love - a Steve Harrington imagine
summary: just a shorter imagine about a reader who works at a diner and Steve comes in with the rest of the friendship group (which you’re also part of). There’s a mutual pining between Steve and reader and eventually Steve decides to do something about it, just a lil fluffy imagine which got me going
warnings: brief descriptions of food and eating
word count: 2.5k
notes: shout out to one of my fave SNL skits of Debbie Downer thx for playing a small part in this imagine. if anyone has any ideas for an imagine plsss request i’d be happy to do some requests !! have a great day :) master list here
                                                   ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
“Have a great night, guys!” You call as the most miserable family you’ve ever served in your entire time of being at the diner slumps out the door. A small laugh escapes your lips, almost in disbelief at what you’ve just put up with, as you start to clear their plates. Clinks of metal cutlery scraping fired ceramic plates fill your ears as you gather everything in an impressive stack. Guiltily, you take the gracious tip they’ve left you and you suddenly feel awful for whining to yourself about how unpleasant they’d been. 
Behind the till, you place their cash tip into the tip jar and then take the plates to the back to be washed. The heat of the kitchen still overwhelms you as you place the stack of dirty dishes into the hot sink full of water. “Busy out there, yet?” Deborah, the main pot washer calls out from the break room, her evening drawing out slowly in front of her at the slow stream of customers. 
“Not quite yet, still early though, Debs!” You call back cheerily, behind her back you all call her Debbie Downer, no matter what you say Deborah will reply with something depressing that ultimately kills the mood of the conversation.
Last month, when you told her you’d got a new cat, she had replied, “Feline AIDS is the biggest killer of domestic cats. Hope you got it checked!” 
Pushing back through the swing doors, you see a few more groups had been shown to tables and you were ready to go over to welcome them in. One group you see, is your friends. 
An unsettled feeling stews inside you, you love that they come here to see you, but you hate how it makes you feel pressured. Dustin loves the shakes, Mike and El the burgers, and Steve loves to come just to see you. Not that you know that. You’re partial to a spill of a drink, or a burger to the floor as it slips off the plates as you try to juggle too many, and you do not want Steve to see anything like that. You’ll just have to try not to show off your plate stacking skills this evening. 
Whipping your pad out from the front of your grease-stained apron, you walk to their table and paint a smile on your face, beaming from ear to ear. “Fancy seeing you here.” You approach the table and stand next to Steve, who looks up at you with a small smile painted across his rose-tinted lips. 
“Do you even need your little pad, surely you know my order by now.” Dustin is quick to comment on his food, he must be starving. He didn’t mean it in an asshole way, you’re close enough with each other that you rarely take offence to anything now.  
You guffaw at his request and scribble down his order. Peeking over the top of your pad to see Steve slightly shaking his head and raising his eyebrows at him. “Max?” Your attention goes to Max now, awaiting her order.
“Just a chocolate shake, please.” She offers, sheepishly pushing the menu back towards you. You don’t push her on an order for food, as you know any of the other waitresses would, you just nod and jot down the code for a shake. She’s still recovering from Vecna, and you understand her lack of appetite, which she is grateful for. 
After finally scribbling down the group’s order in your illegible scrawl, which is only decipherable by the chefs, you turn to Steve who’s perched on the end of the booth. “And for you, Steve?” Your pen is ready in between your fingers, and you give him a patient smile. 
He quickly skims the menu, even though he knew what he wanted the minute he walked in. He relays his order to you before gathering up all the menus, making your job easier and quicker. “Thanks.” You take them from his hands and his cheeks flush with colour. He’s aware of the intense rush of heat to his face, as is everyone else at the table. Your heart skips and beats intensely in your chest as you relish in the sight of his flushed cheeks. You know you caused his blush, and it gives you a slight spring in your step as you return to the host stand with their menus, knowing you have the power to make Steve Harrington tint with crimson. 
Whilst his ears are trained into the conversation happening around him, he lets his eyes divert to your whereabouts. He watches intently as you balance the plates with skill before setting them all down on a nearby table, talking to your customers with expressive hands and giving them an effervescent smile before turning and going to attend to another table. He sees how your tongue slips out of your mouth, ever so slightly, in concentration as you place glacier cherries onto the top of a sundae before carrying it to an over-excited child who claps with your arrival. Your smile at the young boy’s happiness and delightful manners stays on your face as you make your way back over to the serving hatch, the bell ringing out continuously with the Friday night rush of families, friends and couples. 
“Dude.” Dustin starts, leaning in closer to Steve as he breaks away from the rest of the conversation. Steve leans in too. “Why don’t you just ask her out already?” The prospect of doing such a thing is enough to bring sweat to the palms of his hands. Noticeably so that he has to rub his palms over his jeans to get the wetness off. His mouth feels dry, so he runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth and swallows what little saliva he has down his throat. “It’s so painfully obvious.” 
“What is?” He quickly retorts, turning his face too fast so it’s left lingering extremely close to Dustin’s. He pulls back slightly and let’s Dustin observe how you make him feel. The slight tinge of pink has returned to his cheeks, and he hasn’t stopped rubbing his palms over his jeans. Dustin just laughs slightly and gives his head a shake before giving Steve an insignificant nod, indicating your return with an armful of their food. 
“Alrighty.” You say as you settle their food down on the table, sliding the plates in the direction of whoever ordered what. The table digs into your stomach slightly as you stretch across to push El’s plate to her in the far corner of the booth, meaning you slightly lean across Steve. “‘Scuse me.” You gently breathe as you pull back, the smell of your perfume lingering after you push back from the table. He quickly inhales, wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb and then grabs the cutlery. “Max just let me grab your milkshake, I’ll be right back.” You dust your hands off on your apron as you make your way back to the hatch, collecting Max’s milkshake before ambling back over to their table. “There you go, sweetie.” You turn her shake towards her and her eyes light up, looking at Lucas with wide eyes in admiration at her humongous milkshake. You smile at the pair; glad Max has someone as sweet and caring as Lucas. “Okay, think that’s everything.” Your eyes skim everyone’s plates to ensure you haven’t missed anything. “Can I get you guys anything else? Anymore sauces?” 
Everyone replies with a cacophony of “No” and “Thank you” and you nod at them all, the boys already starting to shovel their food into their mouths as if they haven’t eaten for days. Max seems settled and Steve thanks you again before turning to his plate to eat. 
The next half an hour passes in a blur of sundaes, hamburgers, spilt milkshakes, and grumbles from Deborah as you take in another stack of greased up, ketchup smeared plates. As you stand at the host station placing clean cutlery neatly into white napkins, Steve wanders over to you as he opens his wallet in front of him. You place your hands down on the counter, keeping the napkin well wrapped up in your hands. “Hey!” You beam at him as he approaches. “Was everything okay with the meal?” You finally place the neatened cutlery and napkins into their box and return your full attention to Steve. 
“Was great. Five-star service, too.” The corner of his mouth hooks up into a smile and you reciprocate it broadly. “But I was wondering if I could pay now?”
You nod, taking their order from the small pile of tabs that you keep by the cash register. “Sure, you just wanna pay for yours?” You start keying in the price for Steve’s meal, but he cuts you off.
“No no, I’ll get everyone’s.” His offer is laced with the kindness he exudes, like warmth coming from a mug of coffee on a chilly day. 
Your head tilts to one side and your eyebrows lift slightly, “Steve, that’s awful kind of you but are you sure?” 
He nods, pulling out some cash he’s sure will cover it as he patiently lets you tot up the total for the meals on the register. “I’m totally sure.” He seems nervous, you notice from the corner of your eye his weight keeps shifting from one foot to the other. A small smirk forms on your lips, then quickly dissipates as you get ready to read the total out. 
He hands the cash over without question and tells you to keep the change for the tip jar. “Thank you so much.” You hold the cash in your hands gratefully as you look back at him. He’s still stood behind the host stand, his eyes travelling nervously around you. As you drop the cash into the jar, he leans onto the station with his elbows.
“I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie? After you finish up?” The words tumble out of him quickly, but his question is laced with reluctance, like he’s already prepared himself for you to say no.
You study his features, the soft-hearted nature of him shines through. Him paying for all the kids’ meals and still asking you out afterwards, you feel on top of the world that he’s asked you. You think of how sublime it would be, spending the evening with Steve after work, but you don’t finish up until close tonight and you fear that would be too late for him, making him waste the night waiting for you. Although it would feel anything but a waste to Steve. A feeling of defeat washes over you as you worry this could be the only time Steve asks you to do something, and you fear he will think that you’re making an excuse. “I’m here till close tonight.” The words fall regretfully from your mouth, and you see his features soften with disappointment.
He nods quickly, pursing his lips as he pushes back from the counter, giving it a tap as he readjusts his posture, standing tall. “Oh, yeah. Totally. No that’s fine.” 
“But I could come over, when I’m done? I know it would be late, but I could bring us something to eat, and we could just, I dunno, chill?” 
Inside his chest, his heart soars around like someone has ignited him and soon the sweaty palms return. He came over here expecting you to say no, but he figured it was worth a shot. He did not expect, however, for you to then suggest another idea. His worries and anxieties about asking you now seem so farcical when all along you had wanted the same. 
He’s almost taken aback and has to bring himself back to the reality of being here in the diner, with you. “No, no it wouldn’t be too late. That’d be great.” He taps the counter again, the pair of you just looking over at one another, waiting for someone to speak. The pair of you never run out of things to say, never find it awkward to make conversation, never shut up really. But now, you both stand enthralled at the idea of spending some time together, just the two of you. 
“I’ll pick you up?” He poses the question to you in a gesture of what seems like good will, but it’s really just a way to get to spend more time with you. 
A torrent of emotion as intense as a winding river of rapids course through your veins and rise the temperature of your body, causing your skin to prickle intensely like tiny bolts of electricity hitting your skin. The flow of your emotional river ebbs, the source of the river stemmed as an anxious thought enters your stream of consciousness. You want Steve to see you at your best, not sweaty and smelling of cooking after a five-hour shift. “I will stink of grease.” You admit to him awkwardly. The perfume bottle you keep in your bag is a God send and you hope it will help to mask at least some of the smell.
He puffs air out between his lips and a smile softens across his face. “I really couldn’t care less.” He pushes his hands back from the counter where they’d been resting lazily, his muscles contracting underneath the sleeves of his t-shirt and you eye it quickly. The way the shape contorts and flexes under his skin as he pushes himself up from the counter again makes your eyes widen and your stomach throb. “Pick you up around ten, is that when you finish?” 
“Yes! That sounds great, thank you!” You radiate, your words landing like a verbal high five. 
He turns away, wordlessly, and gathers the kids up to leave. You click a few buttons on the register before finalising the receipt. They all wave and shout goodbyes as they make their way out of the diner, leaving as you turn to see your favourite group of regulars sat waiting for you to go over and take their order.
Outside, the wind turns to a chill and the clouds blow clear, leaving the sky black and bright above them. “So...” Dustin starts, elbowing Steve as they make their way to the car. The rest of the kids making their way to their buses home. “Did it work?”
Steve lifts his chin and laughs, “Quit making it sound like I’ve been doing some sort of experiment.” 
Dustin just rolls his eyes and waits, expectantly. 
“Yeah, it did ‘work’.” His fingers go up into air quotations before twisting the key to start the car with a low growl. “I’m seeing her after work.”
“TONIGHT?!” Dustin jeers in a high-pitched voice that makes his voice box squeal in delight. “Dude, how many times have I told you. She feels the same.”
“You think?” Steve quizzes, passing the conversation back to Dustin. 
“Hell yeah.” Dustin smirks, showing Steve all his ‘pearls’ as Dustin likes to say. “Offering to see you after a shift at the diner?” He tilts his head and brings his eyes down playfully. “Must be love.” His voice exudes sickly sweet confidence and Steve backs out the car park, turning up his radio and rolling the windows down, despite the chill. He drives back happily and hasn’t once tried to deny Dustin’s final remark. 
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@faeriieblush YOU ARE SO KIND!!!! Thank you so much <3<3<3
I’m here for you - Steve Harrington imagine
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summary: Steve Harrington x reader. THERE ARE S4 SPOILERS IN THIS, so the keep reading break will be earlier on! I don’t believe I have used specific pronouns in this, or any major physical descriptions. Set the days following the fight with Vecna and the reader is struggling with what happened, they won’t talk to anyone so Steve goes to pay a visit. This is mainly a comfort & fluff imagine! 
warnings: S4 spoilers and death
word count: 2.6k
note: again, the prompt for this imagine was found here. Thank you for the notes on my previous imagines!! If you’d like to read some of the imagines I’ve done so far you can look at my masterlist here :) **not my gif!** I hope this is okay!
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Soothingly, the rain patters on your window, slowly starting out as odd little droplets, then gradually picking up pace. The rain comes along in dark, dusky clouds which cast over the sky, creating an ominous darkness that fills your room. Your head is resting on one of your pillows and your back is facing the window, so you close your eyes, and imagine all the tiny droplets racing down your windowpane. Silently, you thank the rain for falling for so long, that way it occupies your mind. If you aren’t picturing the tiny little droplets, you’re picturing the previous day’s events.
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waiting for forgiveness (part 2) - a Steve Harrington imagine
summary: this is part 2 to the imagine I posted called waiting for forgiveness (read here). premise was that steve and reader were falling for each other, but steve ended up making the mistake of kissing someone else at a party. Part 2 is all about them rekindling after a long period of consideration from the reader... hope you enjoy!! @eddiesguitarskills @queenanababy (tagging as requested! ♡) 
warnings: some swearing
word count: 3.9k
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Two weeks have slowly dragged by you since that awful Monday when you found out about Steve’s kiss at the party. For the remainder of that day, you felt numb, your body would start into a series of fits and shakes when you got home from school. The initial adrenaline had worn off and you had spent your evening trying to calm yourself down, breathing deeply, having a warm bath and reading. Although, reading was pointless as you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the conversation you’d had hours earlier with Steve.
The day after you found out, you had the conversation with Dustin. It was a cold, wet, miserable day for it almost being summer. You sat and watched the raindrops lick the windows of the library as they beat down, the dark clouds rolling over and blocking out any sunlight that was trying to peak through. You could hardly look at Steve that day, and Dustin knew straight away something had happened. You both went off to the library instead of going to your first period, you had to tell him. 
“What a fucking loser.” Was all Dustin could say after you told him everything, you took a deep breath in as you felt you hardly stopped for breath as you were spilling everything that was said. 
You couldn’t help but snort lightly at his comment, a small smile crept over your lips. 
His face turned to morph into a shape of concern and sadness, he really felt for you. “So... what’re you gonna do?” His voice was quiet, possibly regretting asking the question, but he wanted to know. He was really rooting for the two of you. 
Your shoulders sagged upwards for a while, the tension between your shoulders and neck becoming slightly painful so you let them fall back down. “I dunno Dustin.” You looked him in the eyes, his were willing you to go on. “I know how I feel about him. Stupidly, it hasn’t changed how I feel deep down. I’m so pissed off at him Dustin, so fucking pissed off.” You could feel yourself becoming more infuriated the longer you thought about it. “But I can’t help how I feel about him.” 
He nodded understandingly and you were so grateful for him. That he listened. Without trying to defend Steve. He heard you, and you will forever be grateful to him for the gesture. 
Now, two weeks on, you all sit round the cafeteria table. It’s a Friday lunchtime and the group is buzzing with shrills of excitement about the upcoming weekend. Everyone has resumed business as usual, apart from you and Steve, obviously. You’ve both managed to keep a positive front for everyone so nobody gets too suspicious. You’ve avoided group plans like the plague and the excuses for dipping out of group plans have been believable, however it is unlike you to skip so much time with everyone. Dustin has been piggy in the middle, but respectably, trying to encourage you to come out and spend time with everyone but also understanding your reasoning for not wanting to. 
You and Steve still steal glances at each other, make fleeting comments and pleasant, small-talk conversation, but nothing like normal. Your stomach still clenches the way it always does when you see him, your cheeks flushing pink as he smiles warmly at you from across the corridor. You can’t keep this up, you think to yourself as you spoon a mouthful of pudding into your mouth. You need to talk, but you almost feel like you shouldn’t be the one to pull him for a conversation. Really, if you’re being honest with yourself, you haven’t got a fucking clue what to do. You’ve never been in this situation before and you’re almost just riding the wave that it is... 
“...(y/n)?..” You’re broken out of your thoughts by El’s voice calling you from the opposite side of the table. Whilst you’ve been having an internal debate with yourself and turning your pudding to mush on your plate, El has been trying to get your attention. 
You snap your gaze to meet hers and she tilts her head ever so slightly so that you notice the flick of concern that flashes across her eyes, unnoticeable to anyone else. She smiles warmly at you, “Are you gonna take a break from studying tonight to come to the arcade? We’re gonna meet at seven.” She’s sat with her arm looped through Mike’s. 
Your eyes flit down to their entwined hands sitting on top of the table and then move up to Steve’s, whose eyes are trained on your own. You smile at him and then move back to El. “Sure.” You agree, already feeling a mixture of nervous, yet excitable, energy forming in your body. “I’d love to.” You say, however that last part you direct to Steve, who has now turned away from you and is back into small talk with Dustin. 
✦✦✦
Seven o’clock rolls around fast. All you’ve been able to think about all day is later this evening, the arcade. It’ll be noisy, everyone will be there, it’s probably not going to be the most ideal situation to try and steal Steve for a while. But, even if you don’t tonight, it’s a step in the right direction for you both. Feeling normal again, out with the whole group. 
He’s missed you being around. He’s not used to just seeing you at school. You’ve either been getting the bus to school or had a lift in from your mom. Some days, he’d only see you during lunch as you didn’t have many classes together. He’d go home and stare at the phone for a while some nights, willing it to ring or having to occupy himself with another activity so he doesn’t call you. So, he feels nervous as he pulls into the arcade car park. He can see the guys hanging around at the front, obviously waiting for everyone to get there before going in and deciding who’s battling who on Pacman first. He can’t, however, see you anywhere. He checks his watch, it’s only just before seven so you may still be on your way. Before he can give it anymore thought he’s stepping out and away from the car and wandering over to where Dustin is stood with everyone else. 
“Hey guys.” He starts, “No (y/n)?” He asks, mainly to Dustin as he figures if anyone were to know where you were, it’d be Dustin. 
“She’s coming.” Dustin gives Steve a wink and smirks widely at him, leaving Steve to roll his eyes and hope none of the others saw his gesture. 
The group make their way into the arcade, and you soon arrive after getting a lift in with your mom.
“You seem nervous, sweetie.” Your mom comments as she pulls up outside whilst you remove your seatbelt. It hits the door with a soft clunk. She tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear and rests her hand on your cheek. You lean into her gentle touch and smile, closing your eyes quickly. “You’ll be fine. Just go and enjoy yourself. You never know, maybe Steve can bring you home.” 
You’re up and out of the car with flushed cheeks before your mom can finish the sentence with you in the car, she’s left laughing as you wave to her and blow her a kiss. You give your head a small shake and then turn towards the arcade, spotting a few of the guys on one of the machines close to the door. 
Making your way inside, the smell of floor cleaner, candy and air con hits you hard, literally feeling like a pungent punch in the nostrils which make them flare ever so slightly at the inhumane mixture of smells. But, you love it all the same. The noise is also on another level, your ears ring within seconds of stepping in and your head snaps in all different directions as you react to the different sounds coming from different machines. 
“Hey, guys!” You say, trying to sound extra cheery as you approach Max, Dustin and El. 
The three of them turn to you and Dustin gives you a pat on the arm. “Hey! Nice to see you, I’m up next, with you. I said I’d wait and have the first go with you.” He nods towards the game machine and it’s one you haven’t tried before. 
“Oh, awesome buddy. Thanks.” You’re aware you still have your hands in your jacket pocket and remove them, trying to make your body language seem less ‘I’m so nervous’ and more ‘I’m super excited to be here’. 
The pair of you have a go together and laugh all the way through, neither of you taking it too seriously. Max and El have sloped off elsewhere to find the others, leaving just you and Dustin. “Is he here?” You ask when you’re sure the pair have left. 
Dustin laughs through his nose and leans back against the machine, crossing his arms. “Funny, he asked the exact same thing when we arrived.” He has a smug look painted across his face and he raises his eyebrows. The fact he’d asked after you makes your heart leap in your chest. 
Suddenly, you catch sight of him as he’s making his way across the arcade towards you both. Dustin has started to look at the neon sign advertising something by the ticket booth so is slightly distracted. You don’t know where to place yourself, where shall I put my hands? You’re thinking all sorts, and not just be natural. Just be yourself. 
“Hey, guys.” Steve starts as he reaches you both.
“Hey, Steve.” Your reply is short and unlike you. There is no physical contact, as has been the case for the last few weeks. Also, unlike you. 
Dustin swivels back around as he’s heard Steve’s arrival. He has the same smug, concentrated look on his face. Not one that’s annoying, just one that knows there’s two people in front of him who are head over heels for each other, just unsure on how to move on from a monumental fuck up. “Gonna go get me some tickets.” Dustin says, pointing his fingers in the direction of the booth, leaving the pair of you alone now to be surrounded by all the noise and bright lights in the vicinity.
Steve clears his throat quickly, almost like he’s got it all planned. “I was wondering if-” He stops as a group of smaller children cut between you, running straight in from the entrance. He widens his eyes, creaks his neck and then starts again, trying to move past the interruption. “I was wondering if you wanted to go and have a look at that movie?” He has his hands in his jean pockets and he’s gently swaying back and forth, onto the balls of his feet then his heels. As he reads the confusion on your face, he clarifies. “The movie I was talking about that I rented, a couple weeks back.” His cheeks crimson over as he realises you might have wiped that conversation from your memory.
Ah... the penny drops. Steve mentioned a movie, that he thought would be to your liking, in the car the morning you found out about everything, but you never got round to finding out anything about it. Quite frankly, you’d forgotten. 
“It’s still in the video store. I saw it when I was there last night, covering Robin. Again.” He half laughs as he adds on his little dig to Robin. 
You nod slowly, relieved that he made the first move. And so early, too. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” You nod towards the door and start walking off in front of him, but only slightly, so that he has to do a little quick step to catch up with you. 
Outside, you both walk side by side now, the pace much slower. You’re so thankful that the noise is no longer so overwhelming, and you can listen to the slow murmur of cars passing by. The pair of you walk, just around the corner, to the video store in a comfortable silence. One of the reasons you know you’re so comfortable with Steve is that you often indulge in these silences together, and neither ever find it awkward. 
You enter the store, and he shows you the tape, making small talk discussing the plot and characters, how an actor he hates got the lead role, but he still managed to enjoy the film. You take the tape to the desk and rent it out for a week, thinking that gives you plenty of time to pluck up the courage to ask him to come over and watch it with you, since he enjoyed it so much. 
As the tape hangs at your side in the plastic bag, you both take a much slower walk back to the arcade. However, Steve changes the pace significantly by basically taking the most miniscule steps you have ever seen. You’re almost finding it difficult to walk so slow. 
“How’ve you been?” He asks, tentatively. It’s the worst question to possibly ask, but it’s all he can muster up asking at this moment in time.
“Okay, sort of. I guess.” 
He laughs, “That’s not so convincing, (y/n).” 
You smile down at your shoes as you take another tiny step. “No, I know. Honestly though, it’s given me a lot of time to think.” 
Oh no, he thinks. It’s never good when a girl says this to you, it means one thing to Steve: rejection. “Oh yeah?” He probes, his stomach erupting nervously he worries he might puke. 
You nod, and bring your eyes up to meet his, as you know he’ll be searching your features for a giveaway into how you really feel. “I really do appreciate you giving me space.” You start, and his face falls slightly, you can tell he’s preparing himself for bad news. And the news you have for him isn’t bad news at all, but you don’t want him to think it’s all sunshine and rainbows now. “And, I have missed you.” 
He softens immediately, his features soften, his posture softens, and he exhales ever so slightly, but enough that you can hear it. He can’t believe he’s hearing you say you missed him. He was expecting a ‘Fuck you, Steve Harrington, you’re dead to me.’ 
The pair of you continue walking as you let this settle into the conversation as the arcade roof looms into view. Neither of you particularly want to go back in, so as you meander closer to the arcade, he stops you by a small area of the car park that is close to the back. Close enough so that you can hear, through the walls, the whirring of machinery close on the opposite side, but out of view to anyone coming in and out of the arcade. “Can we talk?” 
The sun is starting to lower itself over the horizon and the temperature is matching the descent of the sun. You pull your jacket around you, tighter, and you nod, stepping over to one side so Steve can come closer to you. 
“I don’t think I ever really realised how much I was really falling for you.” He says, extremely quietly, it is almost a whisper. You pull at the inside of your lip with your teeth, waiting for a continuation, toying with the handle of the bag between your fingers. “Shit, not speaking to you, not spending time with you, hearing from Dustin how you cried down the phone to him, how you skipped some of your lessons and-” He cuts himself off, bringing himself to look at you, he wants to look you in the eyes, he wants you to hear him, he wants you to see how truly sorry he is. “And I am so sorry, (y/n). If that’s put a huge barrier between us now, I understand. I do. But I want you to know that I have never regretted anything so much in my life.”  He speaks slowly, his words filled with true, genuine guilt and remorse. You dip your head and without warning a tear falls and hits the fabric of your jumper. Shit, you think, hoping he hasn’t seen. 
“I want us to work on this.” He follows on softly, he has seen the tear, but he’s not bringing it to attention. 
“I know.” Your voice is unsteady, wobbling with sadness as it sits deep in the base of your throat. Your vulnerability pooling out, and with that more tears come. Raw sobs wrench their way through your body now, silently, and you place your hand over your eyes. Your shoulders heave up and down as you continue to let out two weeks of pure emotions, which Steve feels in all their intensity. You’re trying your very best to get this outburst over with quietly, as Steve awkwardly stands there letting you do so, but when a sob fails to pass faintly and comes out as a choked cry, he feels he’s had enough of watching you break your heart. 
“Hey...” He says as soothingly as he can and takes you into his arms. He wraps them around your shoulders, locking his hands together at the top of your back, letting your head fit in gently between his jaw and shoulder, nestling you in. He rests his chin on top of your head and moves one of his hands to the back of your neck, moving his fingers along the nape of your neck slowly, doing his best to soothe the shakes that are still plaguing your body. After a few moments, you place the bag down against the wall and bring your arms up from by your side to wrap them around him, keeping your eyes closed but breathing in his smell. The smell you find so comforting, the one you have missed so much. “I never want you to feel like this again.” He whispers into your hair. “I hate that I’ve done this to you.” His voice is now plagued with the same vulnerability as your own was just moments before. All you do is squeeze him tighter, not wanting to let go. 
Eventually, you bring one hand from around his back and wipe the bottoms of your eyes, dabbing your cheeks. Then, you pull away and look up to him. His own eyes pooled with tears that are yet to fall, his nose is red and his cheek looks warm from where he’s been resting it on your head. Without really thinking, you place a hand on his cheek and glide your thumb along underneath his eye softly. Just like your mom does. 
“I want to work on us too, Steve. I really do. I just felt so angry.” 
“I know.” He replies, bringing his hand up to meet your own. Smoothly, you remove your hand and take a step back from him, leaning back against the wall. He stands in front of you, placing his now empty hands into his jacket pocket and shrugging lightly. “You have every right to be angry at me. I was expecting you to say you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” 
You laugh slightly, “Well, I did consider that.” You laugh again but he doesn’t reciprocate it, instead his face falls, a shadow flickering over his pupils to say that he had dreaded that outcome for the past two weeks. “We’re okay, Steve. I’ve had my time to be angry and upset, but it was a mistake. A stupid mistake, I don’t need to stay mad at you any longer.”
In this moment, his love for you blossoms into something stronger than he ever thought possible. He can’t wait to show you his love for you, make you feel his love for you and adventure through it with you. It’s something he should have been doing for a long time now, and he regrets that he has left it so late. But now, he hopes that you can both move along the right path. 
He moves a step closer to you, keeping you against the wall. He swipes a piece of hair and tucks it against your neck, your cheeks flushing at the soft touch of his fingertips as they glide across your neck. It feels as though someone’s knocked the wind out of you and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You’re intently admiring each other, and the heat grows within you as you bask in the closeness. His eyes travel all over your features, down to your lips, back to your eyes, slowly down to your lips again where they rest for a short while. 
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.” He smiles, gently bringing his thumb to your bottom lip and tenderly applying a small amount of pressure so your lips part slightly. Your heart quickens and you worry he will be able to hear it being so close, as ridiculous as you know that is. If his fingers hover back over your neck, you are sure he will be able to feel your pulse radiating through your skin. “But I want to wait.” 
You nod considerately, even though your body is screaming at you to retaliate. You swallow hard and ensure to keep eye contact locked with him now that his eyes have travelled back up to your own. “What if I don’t want to?” Your voice is small, you’re shocked that even came out your mouth. His thumb still sits below your lip, and he gradually brings his lips down to meet with your own. He kisses you softly, your lips moving together at a slow, but delightful, pace. Everything is laced with lust and longing, the way your lips hold each other before reconnecting is what you had been missing, he continues the kiss by re-joining your lips together after a discrete parting. When you pull away, his face is still lingering close to your own, and he plants a quick, delicate kiss on your lips before fully stepping back. 
“We will make that do for now.” He places his hand back in his jacket pocket but extends his elbow out, inviting you to link your arm through his. You’re sure your cheeks will be burning hot; you can feel the heat spreading across them and you dread to think of the colour on display on your cheeks. 
“Now can I whoop your ass at Dragon’s Lair?” He quizzes you as you both start to meander back towards the arcade door, the illuminous signs and impending overwhelming noise dissipates the air of sexual tension that hung between the pair of you just moments before. 
You exhale through your nose, laughing. “If you wanna be back in the doghouse, sure.” 
He pulls you closer to his side by bringing his arm further into his jacket as you enter back into the arcade, seeing Dustin over the other side. His face lighting up as he sees the pair of you enter, his face awash with utter happiness at the sight, finally seeing the pair of you with a genuine smile on your faces again. Steve knows he still has work to put in with you, he knows you’re going to be wary, but he’s adamant that he’s going to show you just how much you mean to him. 
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waiting for forgiveness (pt.1) - a Steve Harrington imagine
summary: this is another imagine of friends to lovers (but part 1). Idk writing these are really what gets me in the writing mood and I just love the feel of them so no, I don’t think I’ll ever stop writing them :) this features sneaky fuckboy steve :( Steve and reader have potential to become more than friends, but steve jeopardises this by making a mistake at a party... I am going to do a pt2 sometime soon, too :)
Thanks to @urfriendlywriter for a couple of dialogue prompts sprinkled throughout. Amazing account which I’d highly reccomend. 
word count: 3.4k
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As you’re tying the last knot in your dirt-streaked trainers, you hear the familiar grumble of the engine pull up outside your house. Quickly, you jump up from your place on the bottom stair and throw your bag on your shoulder. 
“Bye, Mom!” You call out to her, wherever she may be in the house. Without waiting for a response, you twist the door handle, feel the familiar pull and waft of warm, early summer air hit your face as you step out. Everything about this time of year is like heaven on Earth to you. The lighter nights, the sound of kids riding round the neighbourhood on their bikes until late, everything makes life seem so happy. These feelings make Monday mornings that bit more bearable. 
Squinting in the morning brightness, you wander over to the passenger side and swing the door open. “Howdy, partner.” You beam, putting on your best Southern accent, as you duck into the seat. It’s the greeting you started using as a joke, but one which soon stuck and became ‘your’ thing, and you love it. However, this morning, he returns it simply with a smile. The leather of the seat crunches and crackles underneath you as you shift to put your belt on. You try not to think anything of Steve’s rather cold greeting. 
Rolling the car back onto the road from your driveway, he makes no attempt to make any conversation with you, at all. You’re left staring out of the window for a few minutes, watching the trees go by in a flurry, when you become uncomfortable with your unusual silence. “So, how was the party?” 
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting since yesterday morning to ask him. He went to Leah’s birthday party that she held on Saturday night; you weren’t invited. Even though people know how close you two are, only Steve seems to get invited to these sorts of things. 
“Yeah! It was good, thank you. Got home pretty late.” He turns his lips up into a forced smile and nods his head, turning his head briefly to take you in before returning his gaze back to the road. Just seeing you sitting there, blissfully unaware of what he did on Saturday night, he can feel the guilt pooling in the base of his stomach. 
He’s felt physically sick with guilt since Saturday night. He was drunk, but that’s no excuse. Plus, he kept telling himself that it’s not like you guys are dating, he had no loyalties to you. But seeing you sitting here now, it’s a totally different story. He changes the subject before things can get anymore awkward. 
“I rented a new movie though on Friday, I think you’d like it. It’s all philosophical and shit.” He grins as he finishes his sentence, and you wish he’d asked you to watch it with him. 
You nod passively, returning your eyes back to their place to look out the window. “Sounds good, you’ll have to bring it in for me to try.” He cracks the window open slightly to let in a stream of cooler air from outside to circulate the warm car. You’re grateful for the noise the wind makes as it whips in through the window, filling in your awkward silence. 
As Steve pulls into the car park, he slides it into park and starts to gather his things, you feel the awkward tension has settled in the car like a thick blanket, smothering you almost. To ease the nauseous feeling rising from your stomach, you climb out of the car and smile at Steve over the roof of the car. Closing the door softly, he starts to lock up the car and you both walk round to meet each other at the front of the car. 
His head is shifting around in every direction, scanning the faces of everyone returning to school after the weekend, everyone coming together in a colourful blur of backpacks and hoodies. “You sure you’re okay this morning?” You approach him tentatively and he almost flinches away from you. The sudden movement stirs the feeling of nausea again, cementing the thought that there is definitely something up with Steve this morning, and he hasn’t told you what. You furrow your brows deeply at him, but he does everything he can to dart his eyes everywhere, so they don’t settle on your own. 
He nods his head, and his hair shifts slightly, he runs a hand through it and you both start your strides towards the main entrance of school, “Yeah. Just tired, you know. Had a busy weekend.” And that’s that...
You separate as soon as you get into the hallway, and you make your way to your locker. Tick-tick-tick-tick swoosh. The musty smell of the inside of your locker smacks you in the face. Your lip turns up in slight disgust, the smell as if all the previous owners used to keep their used gym gear in there. You still haven’t gotten used to the pungent odour, and feel oddly ashamed of it, even though you do your best to keep it nice and fresh. You grab what you need from inside your locker and exchange it with some books from your backpack then clunk the door shut, jumbling your locker code around before walking towards your first period.
The morning passes you by in the usual Monday morning haze. Double maths followed by social studies does nothing for the tiredness that seems to have plagued you since you woke up this morning. Around you, people have been talking about the party that happened on Saturday night. The one Steve was invited to, but not you. 
The day passes by as any day usually would, you meet everyone for lunch and Steve is still acting strange. He picks at his dinner, usually wolfing it down as if he hasn’t been fed for weeks. After ten minutes or so of forced conversation with everyone, he stands up, clears his tray then makes his way out of the dining hall.
“The fuck?” Dustin looks in his direction after he’s left. “Who pissed in his cereal this morning?” He looks to you, his eyes wide with a look of suspicion painted across his features. “You know anything about Mr Grump Ass today, (y/n)?” 
You shake your head softly, the corners of your mouth turning down in disagreement. “Nothing. He was awkward and quiet on the way here. It was weird.” 
The rest of the guys tut but carry on their conversation as usual. They start to get ready to pack away, leaving you and Dustin sitting with your trays, sipping on the cartons of juice provided in a place that is encouraging you into adulthood, but still providing drinks as if you can’t be trusted with an actual cup. 
“I think something happened at that party, Dustin.” You open up to him now that it’s just the two of you. He’s the piggy in the middle. Only Dustin knows that you and Steve like each other. He’s just as close to you as he is Steve, but he often finds himself taking your side than Steve’s if there’s ever any sort of disagreement.
 “Has he said anything to you?” You quiz the boy now that you two are alone, not wanting to sound psycho in front of the rest of the group. 
You watch his expression carefully, able to read him like a book. It’s unchanged, his eyes filled with confusion more than anything else. 
“Nothing at all. That’s what’s so weird.” He shrugs his shoulders and moves around some left-over peas on his plate, stabbing them onto the end of his fork. 
Later, sitting alone in last period, the usual assholes jeer around you about what got smashed in the house, who threw up first and who made out with who... blah blah blah. 
You couldn’t care less, until you hear Steve’s name enter their conversation. Then, your attention is all on them. Unobvious, of course, you keep your head down and draw random squiggles on your page to make it look like you’re working.
“Dude, where the fuck did Harrington end up anyway?” One of the guys blurts out as he clears his throat, obviously raising the volume of his voice to return their party to the centre of the attention in the room. You roll your eyes to yourself, how fucking pathetic. 
One of the other guys puffs air out heavily, laughing loudly. “Inside Leah, that’s where.” A roar of laughter erupts from their table, and you hear the slap of skin on skin as they high five each other. 
The emotions all arrive at once, embarrassment, devastation, and the intense feeling as if someone has your stomach between their hands and it is clasping it tight. You try to make your body seem relaxed, but it feels that every fibre of your being has bolted into motion and your body is shivering with tremors of sadness. Still, your back is to the boys as they continue to joke about Steve’s actions over the weekend. 
“My boy disappears for half the night,” The first boy starts, through a fit of supressed laughter, “Joins back downstairs, after...” you hear a slapping motion, a steady, rhythmic slapping motion. Your eyes fall shut; you know what they are mimicking. “Then moves onto Clarissa!” The laughter starts up again, causing the teacher to finally approach their desk to have a stern, but quiet word. After she leaves their table, the boys quieten down and seem to turn their attention towards their work. How respectful..
To them, this is harmless banter. But, to you, he’s lied to you. You feel he’s betrayed you. But why? You guys aren’t together, you aren’t in a couple. But he knows how you feel, he would know how much this would hurt you. Hurt you both. You know he wouldn’t usually do anything like this, so the fact he has is causing a lot of confusion for you. 
You allow the rest of the period to pass you by as your head becomes a swirling mess of negative thoughts, every outcome of this situation plays through your mind as you hear the scribbles of pencils hit the rest of the class’s paper. 
With a start, you gather your things as the tinny sound of the bell rings aloud. You head straight to your locker to exchange some of your things. When you get there, you key in your code as usual, listen out for the familiar sound of the lock falling out of place, but it doesn’t come. You try again, re-setting your code, then switching the dial back around. Again, you’re met with the unappealing clunk of metal on metal when you try to open the locker door. Usually, you’d brush it off, try again and switch the dial once more. However, with the mood you’re in today, you push at the locker with an open fist, causing a loud smacking sound to ring out with an immediate stinging sensation burning your palm. 
“Woah, what’d the locker do to you?!” You hear his voice call out from down the hall, he approaches you, but your eyes stay fixed on the lock. You try once more, almost holding your breath as you turn the dial and hear the clunk of the lock falling out of place. Gracefully, but with a deep creak, your locker door opens, and you start to sort through your things, carrying on as if Steve wasn’t stood there. “Everything okay?” He asks, tentatively. 
“I’m gonna get the bus home tonight.” Your answer is short and sharp as you rearrange the final items into your bag and look round your locker. 
“Oh.. oh okay. Um,” His eyes search your face but get nowhere, you refuse to even look at him. “Has something happened?” He rests his hand on the locker that is next to yours, his hand spanning out across the front. Trying to seem uninterested, you keep your eyes fixed in your dark locker. 
Without a word, you swing your locker shut with a slam. The adrenaline of having him near you, added with the information you just learnt in the last hour, is enough to make you shake. Turning on your heels, you walk away and towards the exit doors to the car park.
Steve stands for a few seconds, bewildered. What on Earth just happened there? He watches as you push the doors open and step out into the afternoon sun. 
Quickly, he catches up with you and runs in front of you. Luckily, everyone had started to make their way home so the car park is becoming emptier, but to your realisation the quietness also means that the bus has gone. For a millisecond, your eyes meet, and you exhale quickly out of your nose. 
“The bus is gone!” You whine to him, throwing your arms into the direction where the bus is usually parked. Almost blaming him for the absence of the bus.
Steve stays where he is, as if his feet are cemented to the floor. “Why did you wanna get the bus anyway, (y/n)? What the hell is wrong with you?” The tone of his voice is unnecessarily pissy, and you don’t appreciate that one bit.
“Fuck. You.” Is all you can muster up to say right now, the colour in your cheeks making it evident just how much rage you have whirling through your veins right now. 
“Excuse me?” He retorts, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and tiredness. A long day of lying will do that to you.
You scoff and start to walk away in no particular direction as option one out of the two for you to get home has already left. Option 2 is standing in the car park, feeling guilty as sin with a deep pit of regret sitting heavy in his stomach. He knows you know now. It’s obvious. He’s still so unsure of what his reasoning was for asking you what happened, or what was wrong, it’s so painfully obvious. He drops his forehead between his thumb and middle finger, pulling them back and forth along his skin. If he’s alone any longer, he feels like he might break down, collapse into the concrete outside of his shitty high school as he watches the one person he truly cares about, the one person he feels he loves, walk away from him. But right now, that’s not an option. His option now is to follow you and try and talk it through, but not here though. 
“(y/n)!” He shouts, causing the last few students’ heads to turn in his direction before going back to their conversations. He starts into a short jog to catch up with you, and he does so successfully. Without thinking, he blocks your path and stands in front of you. “(y/n).” He says softly, as you’re forced to come to a halt. “Please let’s not have this conversation here.”
“Who said I even want to have the conversation? It’s clear what you did and that you don’t give a fuck about me. What is there to converse about, I wonder?” Your voice is thick with sarcasm and that hurts him. Your hurt is so evident, you never take this tone with him. 
“It’s really not like th-” 
“Don’t even fucking bother saying, ‘it’s really not like that’.” You now glare at him, directly in the eyes. You want him to see the anger lapping away at your pupils like small flames, tears starting to pool in your eyes. “It’s exactly like that, Steve. There’s no excusing it. I had to listen to those assholes jeer and high-five each other, over you getting laid on Saturday night.” 
Right then a look of almost relief washes over him, this is fixable, he thinks. “Wait, they said that? (y/n), that didn’t happen.” He half laughs at the confession, then realises it was a mistake judging by the look on your face. “Honestly. I did not get ‘laid’.” His fingers go up in air quotations and you cringe. “I went up with Leah and yeah, we did kiss.” 
He lets it hang in the air for a moment, watching your face remain completely unchanged. “And Clarissa?! Did you fancy two for the price of one, huh Steve?!”
Confusion settles within the deep grooves of his eyes as they squint in disbelief. “Is that what people are saying?! I got her a drink, (y/n). Yes, I fucked up, massively, by kissing Leah. But I took Clarissa into the kitchen to get her a drink. Fuck my life.” His head swings back and his eyes search his surroundings. Anger swilling around his head causing heat to rise to his cheeks. 
Steve is a lot of things in this moment, but not a liar, and you trust yourself for coming to that conclusion. However, your heart still races in your chest and your eyes still swim with tears.  
“Can we sit?” His voice is soft, and you meet his gaze, his own eyes now filling with tears. The emotions he’s felt all day are now bubbling to the surface. “Please?” 
You nod solemnly and follow him to the bench a few yards away from you both. It takes a while for either of you to build up the courage to speak, both worried that when you try your voices will come out weak, small and full of hurt. 
You decide to take the plunge and clear your throat. “You’ve really hurt me, Steve.” 
His eyes bore into the thick tree trunk that sits opposite you both, its branches gently swaying in the breeze as the leaves rustle with the sound of the tender wind. He nods softly, “I know.” He rubs his hand across his mouth, his fingertips scratching the skin beneath his bottom lip as he softly chews the inside of his mouth. “I know.” Now, he turns to face you but you’re already looking at him. You watch as his lip trembles, as his eyebrows faintly twitch with every hurtful thought that obviously snakes its way through his brain. You know his little movements, and you know in this moment in time that he’s truly hurting. 
“I thought we were going somewhere, I really did. I thought we were going somewhere really good.” You confess to him. 
“We are. We are going somewhere great.”
You laugh slightly through your nose and shake your head; a tear rolls over and down your cheek. “Are we, though? Would you really do that if you thought we were going in the right direction?” 
“I’m falling in love with you, (y/n).” He goes to reach for your hand, but you move it away. A bold move, you think. 
“No, you’re not Steve. You can’t sit here and tell me that. Jesus...” You shake your head, “What’s wrong with you?!” The emphasis on your words is filled with sadness, so palpable that in that moment if a by passer wandered by, they would feel the utter shame and sadness radiating from you both. 
After the short discussion, he’s tried so hard to keep his emotions together, to keep his tears held back until he’s alone later tonight, but now they flow freely. Subconsciously, he’s let them fall and they fall fast. “Can we work on this (y/n)? I know I fucked up; I do.” He rubs the back of his hand over his eyes and your heart feels like it’s breaking in two, watching how vulnerable he looks right now. Even though you’re utterly furious with him, all you’re finding yourself wanting to do is scoop him up and hold him. But you need to value your self-respect. So, you just answer with silence. He gets the hint and nods, sniffing and giving his eyes a final wipe with his fingertips. “I’ll be right here, (y/n). For when you decide to forgive me, if you ever do, I’ll always be here. No matter how long it takes.” 
Instinctively, you quickly take his hand in yours and give it a swift, small squeeze. Enough for him to be able to feel it. His eyes quickly go down to your hand and then up to your face, a small smile settling on his lips. You swing your bag over your shoulder and get up, starting to make your way to the nearest public bus stop to get you home. Steve respects that, and wants to give you space, so he lets you leave. He sits there for a while longer until the gentle breeze in the air becomes cold and the chill starts to settle. He knows you’re going to want space, but he also knows, from that little gesture, that you’re not giving up on the two of you, either.
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secrets of the upside down - a Steve Harrington imagine
summary: a steve harrington x reader angsty/fluff imagine where the reader finds out steve, and the group, have been keeping a massive secret. And yes I did steal some dialogue from the scene with eddie and the guys when he finds out about the upside down. this discusses Billy’s death, but then I do jump to a random trip to the upside down and I know they don’t match up in terms of the actual sequence of events from the show but let’s just pretend !!
warnings: mentions of death and swearing
word count: 3.8k
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As you walk through your front door, the warmth of your home engulfs you. A deep sigh escapes your lips and you feel a tension lift from your shoulders, as if you’d been carrying it around with you all day. You drop your bag on the floor with a dull thud and close your eyes, taking in a deep, satisfying breath which you hold for a moment, then exhale. After a shitty day, you only want to talk to one person, so you walk to your phone which sits on your dark wood, slightly scratched, hallway table and punch in the number you know by heart. After a few rings, the receiver clicks into place.
“Hey, it’s Steve.” His voice radiates into your ear and a smile instantly forms on your face.
“Hey, it’s me.” You start, twirling the telephone cord around your index finger. “How’re you?” A general start to the conversation.
“Hey, pretty girl. Yeah, I’m good, how’re you? You had a good day?” He sounds tired, not his chirpy usual self.
You twist your mouth up in disagreement and trail your finger along the countertop in your hallway, picking up a fine line of dust. “Hm,” you start, rubbing your fingers together to release the dust, “not particularly. Had a performance review with Jan and it was just- she was brutal.”
A sigh travels through the receiver, “Oh man. Hey, you should know not to listen to her. She’s a spiteful bitch.” This makes you audibly laugh, “No, I’m serious! Whatever she said, just fuck it. You’re amazing.” His words of reassurance warm you, but you can’t help but notice the vacancy evident in his voice.
“Steve, you sure you’re okay?” The line goes silent, too silent and you’re afraid you’ve disconnected. “Steve?”
“Sorry. I’m here.” He clears his throat, “Hey um, I have to tell you something.”
Uh oh, you knew there was something. Almost instantaneously, your stomach tightens as if someone’s reached in and twisted at your organs with their bare hands. “Sure, I’m listening.”
Another quick silence, but this time you let it pass uninterrupted. “Last night uh, Billy – Billy Hargrove – passed away.”
Your eyes widen in shock and your hand covers your mouth, not enough to mask the sound of the quick inhale you do, “Oh my God Steve... how?!” You knew of Billy, you knew he was Max’s older step-brother, but to your knowledge he was a bit of an asshole. Still, that didn’t take away from the shock of his passing.
Steve knew you’d ask so he had a story ready, “He got into a bit of an altercation at the mall and someone pulled a gun on him. They don’t know who it was but, he was tied up with some messed up people.”  
“Jesus…” The new mall?! “God, is Max okay?” Your eyes well with tears for the girl. You knew her relationship with Billy was turbulent, but he was still her family.
Steve swallows loud enough that you could hear over the phone, you knew he was upset. “I haven’t spoken to her today but, I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
“Shall I go see her tomorrow? D’you think she’s up for visitors?” You think over what you would say and how you could comfort her, there really are no words to use in a time like this.
“I think she’d really like that.” He clears his throat again, “Listen, I need to go but, I’ll call by later?”
You nod quickly, then realising he can’t see you, you reply, “I’d love that.”
He doesn’t reply, and instead just clicks the receiver down. Something deep in your gut feels terribly wrong, something you’ve never felt before and you just can’t place the feeling of sheer discomfort.
A few months later, steady flickers of light carefully illuminate the lounge of Mike’s house. The ambiance is cosy, comfortable, and calm and you relish in moments like this. You’re pleasantly surprised at how calm it is since everyone is currently at Mike’s for a real chilled out evening, even Dustin seems really subdued.
The mood within the group is different, usually Dustin is constantly cracking jokes or is on Steve’s case about something, but tonight there’s been none of that.
Yesterday, unbeknown to you, a few members of the group, including Steve, found a new gate to the upside down. Reluctantly, they decided to see what it was like, so they spent a few hours checking it out, making sure there was no imminent threat to them or the rest of Hawkins. You’d asked Steve if he wanted to go see a film last night, but he’d made up an excuse that he was covering a shift for Robin whilst she went on a date.
Now, back at Mike’s house, you look at Robin with a smile and lift your brows up in a playful manner.  Thanking yourself that you’ve thought of something to fill the silence. “Well, Robin. How was last night?”
She parts her lips slightly, looking momentarily confused. “Last night…?” She trails off, looking at you, to Steve, then back to you. You find that quite odd and you turn to Steve and furrow your brows.
As you turn your head back to face Robin you point to Steve with your thumb, “Steve said you had a date last night.”
“No, I’m pretty sure Robin was with us last night?” Dustin pipes up, an innocent mistake. He hadn’t been paying much attention to any conversation before now, so it’s typical that he decides to join in during this one.  
You laugh slightly, a feeling of uneasiness settling on your shoulders like a weighted blanket. “You were all there?”
“No.” Robin quickly interjects, “Steve and Dustin went to get pizza after they dropped me off.”
Now you feel disconcerted. Steve was lying to you; you knew that for a fact. You look at him out of the corner of your eye and you can feel everyone else’s on you.
“But Steve said he was at work last night, covering for you.” You look around at everyone else, searching for some help, but all you get back are soft eyes and awkward looks. You swallow the lump that has formed at the base of your throat as you start to peel yourself away from Steve, who has stayed quiet during this whole conversation. What was a feeling of unsettlement has turned into a deep pit of fury in the base of your stomach. “I’ll let you guys get your stories straight.” You pat Steve’s knee as you get up and pad through to the kitchen, pulling the sleeves of your jumper down over the palms of your hand for added warmth.
When you’re out of ear shot, Steve leans forwards and speaks to Dustin. “You idiot, she doesn’t know jack shit yet! I haven’t had the conversation with her.” His voice stays quiet, but his annoyance is evident.
Dustin turns around slowly, a dumbfounded look painting over his face, “It would help if you kept us in the loop with your little white lies, so then at least we know what you’re fucking talking about.” He waves his hands around between the room, motioning to him and Robin. His voice never moving above a loud whisper.
A few of the group grimace at Steve, they know he kept the upside down and everything that came with it a secret from you, but they all figured he’d have told you by now.
“Dude,” Robin starts, “You need to tell her. It’s only gonna make it worse. Plus, she’s gonna feel like a total idiot when she finds out she’s the only one that doesn’t know.” Steve runs a hand over his forehead, he’s wanted to tell you, he really has. But the last thing he wants is for you to end up like Billy, or him for that matter. He’s plagued with nightmares and anxious thoughts that are eating away at him and turning him into a ghostly version of himself.
“She’s like family to us, Steve. She’s one of us.” El replies, holding his gaze. “She deserves to know.”
“No, I know, I know.” He waves his hands up dismissively and closes his eyes, biting the tips of his fingers. “I just need to do it when the time’s right.”
“Which will be when, exactly? When is the right time to ever tell someone this?” Max snaps back. She’s insisted, along with a few others, that Steve should’ve told you months ago and has grown in annoyance with him when he refused to tell you. “This should’ve been done months ago.”
The group can tell that Steve has really exhausted himself with this, he is ridden with guilt and has tortured himself with the idea that he’s pretty much lived a complete lie since he started dating you.
“Would it help if some of us explained it with you?” Robin chips in.
Steve looks up with grateful eyes, it would sure take the pressure off.
“I’d be happy to assist.” Dustin says, patting Steve on the leg, reassuringly.
“I would too. I know Billy’s death is something that (y/n) knows about but, just not the whole truth.” Max looks passed Steve, almost towards the kitchen door, looking out for you coming back through.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, “Yeah okay, let’s go.”
You stand with your back against the counter, facing the doorway. Your fingernail in perched between your teeth and you’re willing yourself not to bite them. It was a habit of yours that took years to break, and you haven’t bitten them for months. Snap. Your teeth glide through the soft tip of your nail and you look down in disappointment. Now your nail sits, snapped in half, with a clean break down the middle. You can hear the hushed whispers next door still, different voices pitching in at different parts of the conversation. The pit of irate anger has been bubbling away in your stomach and your skin feels as if it’s crawling with rage. You let a small huff out and rip off the nail you’ve just bitten. You rip it off with such force that it pulls away at the soft tissue, where your nail meets the pad of your finger underneath. Immediately, a small trickle of blood comes away from the little nick you’ve created on your finger, and you watch as the beads come to the surface.
The sound of other footsteps towards the kitchen brings you back and you pull your hand back into the sleeve of your jumper and cross your arms. Steve, Max, El, Dustin and Robin all come through, with Robin closing the kitchen door softly behind her. You stay with your face straight, staring at each of them individually before returning to Steve.
“Wanna tell me what the fuck’s going on?” It came out far more aggressive than you intended, but you just roll with it.
“(y/n), I’m sorry.” Steve starts, his eyes look tired, and you feel a sense of hurt for Steve, mixed amongst the fiery emotions that are coursing through your veins. “We-” He stops and puts his hand on his heart, “I haven’t been honest with you.”
Has he been seeing someone else, and the guys have been covering for him? No. Surely not. You look to El, whose eyes are glazed over with tears. What the fuck is going on?
“Guys, please. Please tell me what’s going on.” Your voice sounds weak, almost pathetic. Begging and pleading with them to share with you what it is they’ve kept secret. Your face flushes with an intense heat and your eyes well with sadness, “Steve?” your voice barely above a whisper.
“Let’s sit.” He says, gesturing towards the small table in the kitchen and you all take a seat around it, nobody saying a word. “(y/n), I need you to know that I kept things from you for your own safety. I had your best interests in mind, but it’s gone too far and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you earlier.”
Again, your eyes scan everyone else’s, Dustin is the only one not engaging with eye contact and you reach over and pat his arm, offering him a small smile when his eyes eventually meet yours.
“He’s right,” El starts, “We just wanted to protect you.”
“Guys, please. Protect me from what?! You’re scaring me.”
“Hawkins hasn’t exactly been normal recently, right?” El says and your expression has morphed into one of confusion. El continues, knowing the longer she draws it out the more chance she has of losing your interest.
“Right.” You reply, not seeing how this has any relevance.
“Well, we’ve had a lot to do with that.” Dustin drops in, keeping his voice soft.
“I don’t understand.” Your eyes continue to dart from one person to the other.
El places her hand on yours, “There’s another world, (y/n). Another one just like this, just like Hawkins, and our world connects to that in ways none of us ever would’ve imagined.” Her finger is tracing over your knuckles as she speaks to you, you’re grateful for El whilst Steve sits quietly, looking helplessly at you both. “I have the power to open ways to travel from our world to the world we call the upside down. But sometimes, what’s in the upside down makes its way into our world, into Hawkins.”
“You mean like, like ghosts?” You reply, a headache becoming an intense throb that you can feel it settling behind your eyes.
Max shakes her head, “Some things are worse than ghosts.”
The group spend the next half an hour talking you through the upside down, how they came to discover it, what happens there and some of the near misses they’ve had. You take in every single drop of information they give you, not taking your eyes away from whoever is directing the information towards you. Part way through, when it was obvious you were becoming distressed, Steve took your hand in his and hasn’t let go since. They told you about Billy, about how his death was not a mall fight gone wrong, but how he was murdered by something they called the ‘Mind Flayer’. By this point in the conversation, the thumping pain in your head has intensified and you nip the skin in between your brows tightly, willing it to cease.
“Oh my God.. Max I’m so sorry.” You hold your head in your hands with your fingers swirling through your hair and scratching patterns onto your scalp. “This is so fucked up.”
“I know.” Steve whispers, placing a hand onto the back of your neck, gripping it softly. He knows when you’re in an anxious state of mind you like pressure, a pressure on the back of your neck or shoulder helps calm you. “I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
You stay with your head in your hands and thankfully your face is hidden because your face screws up and your shoulders shake. Small, quiet sobs escape and your tears stream down, dropping onto the surface of the table.
Dustin mouths “We’ll go.” to Steve and moves his head in the direction of the door to signal to the others that they needed to leave you two alone.
Once they’ve left, Steve moves his chair closer to you and places his hands on top of yours where they’re still wrapped up in your hair. “Hey.” He whispers as he comes in closer to you, applying a firm amount of pressure onto your hands, enough to show you he was there but not enough so that it was painful. Lightly, he places a kiss on the crown of your head. “I know it’s a lot to take in.” All he can do is sit here and be there for you. It was so much information, information that meant your relationship with everyone in this house would never be the same.
After a few minutes, you move your hands and wipe your eyes, sitting up and sorting your hair back behind your ears.
“So, last night?” You question, and Steve knows exactly what you mean. “We had to go to the upside down.”
You shake your head, tears continuing to fall though your sobs have subsided, “Steve, what I’m pissed off at is, these trips to the upside down, they’re dangerous.”
“I know.” He says, matter of fact.
“No, no. Listen, if anything happened to you, God forbid something like what happened to Billy?! How was I supposed to find out?! Were you gonna let the guys tell me how a supernatural being ripped you to shreds and your body was gone forever in another dimension?!” You had no energy to shout, you had no energy to raise your voice, so it stayed quiet, but firm.
Steve looks directly at you, his own eyes reflecting the same sadness held in your own. “I know. It was a real shitty thing for me to do.” He runs his fingers over his mouth and then brings them down to his lap, playing with the tips of his fingers. “The guys, they all told me to tell you. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted to protect you; I didn’t want you getting caught up in it all.”
You appreciate him trying to protect you, but all you can think of is if he went on one of his trips and never returned. “I get that Steve. I do.” You take his hand in yours, bringing it in close to your chest. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
He gives your hand a hearty squeeze and leans in to rest his forehead on yours, bringing his hand up to support your neck. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” His fingers trace back and forward at the nape of your neck and you close your eyes, letting the rhythm of his fingers soothe you.
After a few still moments pass, you open your eyes and lean back to look at each other. The sadness pooling his eyes seems to have dissipated and that makes you feel slightly better.
“I want in next time.” You blurt, looking him dead in the eyes.
You see his facial expression morph and change, one of confusion, then defeat and then just simply still. He knows you will insist, no matter how often he argues it with you.
“Steve.” You say, squeezing his hands in yours. He nods gently, giving in, “Okay. Okay.” He sniffs. Part of him feels devastated. His protective side feels like it’s been crushed having you brought into all this. He feels such a strong need to protect you, to keep you safe from everything he’s faced. “Everything I do we do together now, okay? We do it as a team. That’s how we work, as a team.” He’s almost laying down the rules.
You nod as your eyebrows knit together. Steve must’ve been through some shit, more shit than he’s prepared to tell you at this moment in time. “Deal.”
His eyes are dark, like pools of ink swirling in a soft current, not focussed on anything. “I fucked up.” His fingers circle his lips as he puckers them slightly, trying to hide the fact his top lip is starting to tremble. You’ve seen it, you’ve registered it, but you’re just letting it happen. “I really fucked up.” He says quickly and quietly before taking in a deep breath.
“No.” You reply, holding his hand tightly. “No, you didn’t. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me, and I appreciate it.”
His eyes close softly as a tear drips down his cheek and rolls straight off. Gently, your thumb wipes away the residue and you leave your hand resting softly against his face. “Telling you all of this makes me realise actually how close I’ve been to losing you. How close you’ve been to losing me.”
You will your brain not to play a spectre of images of Steve dying in unimaginable ways in their upside down, but still a few roll over. Tightly, you close your eyes and hope they dissolve like a picture set on fire, curling away at the edges.
“Shall we go back through?” Your voice comes out hoarse, the tiredness lacing your voice box like thick treacle. Steve simply nods and you both get up and wander back through to the living room, one after the other. When you enter, everyone’s eyes avert to the two of you and the quiet murmur of their conversation quickly comes to a halt.
“(y/n)”, Dustin starts, “We all just wanna say how fucking sorry we are.” His eyes are glazed with tears and hold the evidence that he’s just finished crying.
Steve walks you both over to the couches and holds Dustin by the shoulder before bringing him into a hug, Dustin’s shoulders shake as soon as Steve envelops him. “You don’t need to apologise, buddy.”
Suddenly, it is apparent to you just how paramount their hurt is. As a collective, they have all changed. Now, the small things start to make sense. The cancelled plans with phoney excuses when things went to shit, the disappearances of people you went to school with, the sudden relationship with Hopper, everything now seems to fit into place. You quietly make your way to Dustin and take him from Steve’s arms. You’ve always been close to him, and now you feel even more so.
“It’s gonna be okay.” You whisper into his curled hair as his tears start to subside. Even though you know yourself you can’t guarantee it will be okay, you couldn’t think of anything else to say.
On the drive home, back to Steve’s, he’s awfully quiet, emotionally drained. You follow the stars, glowing bright in the bleak, black night sky and replay every bit of conversation you can. You know it’s going to be hard to fall asleep tonight and you realise it will be for Steve too, you assume you’ll be up for hours talking and falling into silences that won’t be awkward.
Steve looks over to you briefly before returning his gaze to the road. He knows he’s just let you into a dangerous part of his life, one he wishes he was not part of. But, knowing he has you by his side, he feels like he can take on anything the upside down throws at him. Now he’s not just trying to save himself, he’ll be saving you, too.
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Hi, I read some of your stories and I really liked your style; I just wanted to say, usually whenever a new character speaks you should start a new paragraph, for example, how you wrote here:
Before he can leave the kitchen, Robin is beside him with a grimaced look on her face. “Nice one.” She puffs air from her mouth. Steve’s hands shoot up in the air, “What did I do?!” He says defensively. Robin just laughs.
You put both Robin and Steve speaking in the same paragraph, this sometimes can make the reader feel a bit confused and kill the pace of the story. And in this same story, you also put a lot of Y/N's and Steve's lines in just one paragraph, and it was a bigger conversation, so it was really confusing. What I'm suggesting is that you do this:
Before he can leave the kitchen, Robin is beside him with a grimaced look on her face. “Nice one.” She puffs air from her mouth.
Steve’s hands shoot up in the air, “What did I do?!” He says defensively. Robin just laughs.
See what I mean? It's much easier for the reader to tell what's happening. But that's just a suggestion, you do what fits you best <3.
Hello!
I can totally see what you mean, it’s so much easier to read! I think if I have some spare time tonight I’ll go through and see if any of my other ones read the same.
Thank you 💛
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jealousy - a Steve Harrington imagine
summary: a steve harrington x fem!reader angsty imagine where the reader makes an off hand comment about steve in a fit of jealousy and he becomes upset by it. It’s your typical friends to luuuvers imagine but im ngl I LOVE WRITING THEM so i’m not even sorry xx
warnings: underage drinking and swearing
word count: 4k
note: i hope you like pls request if you’d like anything i’m running out of ideas !!! 
My master list is here :)
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Your throat burns with a tingling, hot sensation as the clear liquid slips down and you squeeze your eyes shut, the back of your hand covering your mouth as you swallow hard. A strong shudder creeps up your spine and you shake it off, still clasping your eyes closed, hard. Robin laughs from beside you, “You can’t handle your shots.” She laughs and you open your eyes, wide in horror at the large shot she is pouring for you both.
“Ugh, absolutely not.” You shake your head, the neat spirit going straight to your head, making you feel slightly lightheaded, but in a good way?
Robin looks back at you, almost in pity and she sticks out her bottom lip, “Don’t make me do it all on my own.” Her eyelids start to bat in your direction, and you shake your head.
“Not gonna work, Buckley. I’ve had enough for now.” Which is true, you weren’t a big drinker, but you’d had quite a few beers and a few shots, which is more than enough for you. You do not like the feeling of being drunk, so you try to minimise those times where you are. However, you’re worrying that the few shots you’ve done may come back to haunt you. The pair of you are stood over the very full shot glasses sat atop the kitchen counter in Steve’s kitchen. He was throwing a party, and all of you were there, plus about thirty others from school so the atmosphere was great. As you’re hoping your shot will magically disappear, Steve appears from behind you and snakes his hand in between the pair of you and picks up one of the shots. You turn around as his hand makes it’s way back as you watch him tip it back, swallowing it without pulling a face. You study his face in astonishment, how on Earth does he do that?
“Heyyyy.” Robin starts, stringing out her ‘y’ at the end, “That was (y/n)s.” Her pout returns and you roll your eyes and laugh.
Steve slides in between the pair of you, “Really? I was watching and it didn’t seem like you were too keen to take it.” He raises an eyebrow up at you and you sigh, Steve reeked of alcohol, and you most likely did too, but he always became too flirty when he was drunk, too flirty with the wrong people. You simply don’t reply and suddenly feel awkward that you’re the only one without a drink in your hand, so you reach over to the now luke-warm bottles on the counter and pop the top off, taking a small swig and keeping a hold of the bottle. The busy bustle of the kitchen fills in the space of no conversation for a few moments, then Robin shouts a greeting over the noise and disappears into the crowd of people that have just arrived.
“Let’s go play beer pong.” He slurs as he leans over to speak in your ear to combat the noise. You nod back in agreement and a small smile creeps upon your lips. He places his hand on your arm and guides you through to where there’s beer pong set up. The room feels hot and clammy, added to the warmth the alcohol is providing you feel your cheeks are most likely flushed a light pink.
“Steve!” A voice calls from what seems like miles away, but when you turn the girl is only stood a few metres from the pair of you. You recognise her, and you squint your eyes as if that will make your brain work any faster or harder to realise who she is. The girl stood next to her is also a mystery. You’d never seen her before, but she was very visually pleasing. You spend a few moments to take her in, her hair was perfectly curling away from her face and was held in place with a soft blue headband. Her dress was nothing special, simply a floral print dress over a white t-shirt, but she seemed to carry such an air of confidence like she knew she was something special. 
You soon realise that the girl you seem to recognise is Joanne, a girl you and Steve both go to school with, and you have a few classes together. But the other girl, a mystery! As Steve turns and walks to hug Joanne, you stay close enough to still be able to see their conversation, but far enough so you don’t look too odd.
“This is Gina, she’s here for the weekend we met at camp last year.” Joanne looks at Gina, then to Steve, then back to Gina.
Steve’s face lights up, he likes what he sees and a knot forms in your stomach. Steve leans in close to Gina and embraces her, saying something in her ear as he leans down to do so. As he returns his normal posture, they both look at each other with smiles painted softly on their faces, and they walk back through to the kitchen together, her hand placed gently on his upper arm.
“Son of a bitch.” You mutter under your breath, now locking eyes with Joanne as she turns back away, she offers you a warm smile and waves at you, flashing her perfect teeth. You semi-enthusiastically return her wave and she comes over to you, oh God…
“Hey! Enjoying yourself?” She takes a drink from her glass of what looks like wine, and you try and look past her to see where Steve and Gina got to.
You nod, “Yeah, it’s good!” You take a drink from your own before asking, “So who’s the girl you brought?”
She swallows quickly and points her thumb behind her shoulder, “I met her last year at camp. She just went through a messy break up, figured she could use a distraction and when I described Steve, I think he’s just the distraction she’s looking for.”
“Oh, you mean the party is the distraction?” You really hope that it’s not the distraction you think she means.
She laughs and bumps your arm with hers, you didn’t think you’d said anything particularly funny. “No silly,” she breaks up her sentence with another chuckle, “She wants to get railed, so who better to get railed by than Steve Harrington?”
Your eyes widen and your mouth slips open in shock at how direct she was, you laugh loudly to mask your shock. If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. “Oh of course! Duh.” You slap a palm to your forehead, silly me. You continue to laugh, very over the top, and you bump her arm back with yours. “Anyway Joanne, nice to chat.” You abruptly end your laughter and turn away to wander back through the house. Your eyes scan the busy hallway, no sign of Robin anywhere, all you can see are red-faced teenagers whose eyes are glazed over with a lull of booze-induced tranquillity.
A sudden rush of warmth overcomes you, so you decide to go outside for a bit, into the cool fresh air of the evening. As you open the doors to the yard, you exhale deeply, having felt like you’d held in a deep breath for a while. There are a few people milling around outside and you take a seat on one of the garden chairs. You place the bottle down next to you, sick of the feeling of alcohol, you’d rather sit with your eyes closed for a few minutes, listening to the bustle of noise muffled by the closed door.
After a few minutes, the noise of inside intensifies and seems louder as the back door opens, and then the noise is muffled again as it closes. You don’t think anything of it until you feel a hand on your back. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you, what happened to our game of beer pong?” You open your eyes slowly and look at Steve who’s sat down next to you. Carefully, you study his hair, his face and his clothes. Nothing looks strikingly out of place, but he may have sorted himself out afterwards.
You let out a small puff of air from your nostrils, half laughing. “Yeah, what about that Steve?” It surprises you that your tone comes across far more confrontational than you had liked.
His brows furrow in deep confusion and he cocks his head slightly, “I’m sorry?”
Straight away, you can feel something’s not right. “Gina happened.” The confusion stays on Steve’s face, “Hope you had fun riding her.” You can’t bring yourself to say that with too much force, so you mutter it instead.
Steve scoffs immediately after the words leave your lips, “Seriously (y/n)? I got her a drink and then came to look for you. What’s your problem?”
An unsettled feeling blankets across your chest, and you suddenly feel awful for thinking he would do such a thing. “I thought that-”
“Is that how you think of me?” His voice has a hint of hurt. “I knew people talked about me in that way, but I thought you’d think of me differently.”
A harsh lump has formed in your throat and the dull pain which precedes tears has settled there. “Steve, I do.” Your voice was barely a whisper. The corners of his mouth turn down and he goes to stand, “No, wait.” You raise now too and place a hand on his arm.
Harshly, he shrugs it off. “Wait for what? So I can sit here and listen to you accuse me of sleeping with someone when all I did was get them a fucking drink?” The tone of his voice is irate now, the volume raised ever so slightly. You’re now sat back down, and he takes a step back. “You know what, she made it pretty clear what she wanted, but I don’t want that. I don’t want her; I don’t want anyone in there.” His arm swings back towards the general direction of the house.
A tear spills over the edge of your eye and rolls down your cheek. Now you know that one has fallen, others will soon follow. There is an unusual heaviness sitting behind your eyes, one you would link with tiredness, but you feel wide awake with adrenaline. “Steve I’m sorry I-“
“Fuck this.” His tone is thick with a venomous bite and another tear slips over the edge of your eye. “Do you know how shitty it is to know that almost everyone talks about me in that way?” As his body language morphed with anger, one hand placed itself firmly on his hips, another running stressfully through is hair. “But you?” He scoffs quietly and shakes his head. “The only person I care about and that’s how you think of me?”
Wow, so much is happening at once and you continue to let your tears fall, brushing your hand through your hair to keep it from falling into your face. You mean the most to Steve. After all these months of you spending more and more time together, you started to develop some serious feelings for him. And maybe, he has too. You keep your hand in your hair and run your fingers over your scalp as your other hand finds your mouth and you place the tip of your thumb between your lips, your teeth grazing the edge of your nail. The hurt Steve is displaying right now is paramount.
“Steve, please sit back down.”
Your words hang in the air for a few seconds and you look directly at him, watching him toy with the idea of leaving and staying as the cogs churning become visible in his concentrated facial expression. Eventually, he places himself back down in the seat next to you and you let out a miniscule sigh of relief. Nobody speaks. Continuous increases in music occur as more people make their way in and out of the house and you feel your tears subsiding. You need to let him know how sorry you are, and why you reacted the way you did. Usually, you would’ve let him walk away, let the argument fester and hope that he would come back to you in a few days’ time. But tonight, you feel different, whether that’s the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve consumed or what, you don’t know, but the words are forming in you like a violent tornado, ready to consume Steve in your path.
“I um,” you start but your voice has transpired in a horse, weak manner, so you quickly clear your throat and continue. “I am so sorry, Steve.” Your eyes meet for a few seconds and then he darts them away, knowing that the more he looks in your eyes the easier he will forgive you. He doesn’t feel like forgiving too easy tonight. “I can’t imagine how awful it must be to have people talk about you like that, and I should not have said what I said tonight. I shouldn’t have even jumped to conclusions about it. I just, I wanted us to spend time together tonight.”
“And you think I didn’t?” Steve is quick to interrupt but you silently raise your hand, you weren’t finished. He nods gently and you go on.
“When you took Gina to the kitchen, Joanne told me Gina heard about you and wanted to, I don’t know, bang you whilst she’s here.” You cringe awkwardly at your awful attempt at diffusing the situation. “And I-“
“Yeah, I got that vibe when she came to the kitchen with me.”
You power through him interrupting again, “And I hate that people think you’re just someone who they can use as a distraction, or post-break up sex, or a one-time fling. I hate that people don’t see you for more than that, you’re so much more than that, and I’m so disappointed with myself that I let myself think of you like that tonight.” His posture softens ever so slightly. “I was jealous, Steve.” You let a small huff of air escape from your nose. He remains silent now, hooked on your words, silently willing for you to continue. “I mean did you see her, she was gorgeous. I thought she’d get you in the kitchen and try it on with you and God knows but that’s beside the point. Gina wouldn’t have cared about you, she wouldn’t have taken the time to get to know you, she wouldn’t have done any of that shit.” His eyes find yours again and this time his features are far softer. “I know you, Steve. I care about you, so much. And I’m devastated to think I’ve upset you when you’re the only person I care about, too.” You want him to know you registered what he’d said before. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh (y/n).” He starts, running a hand through his hair again. He rubs his hand back and forth over his chin a few times and his silence unnerves you. Again, a few rogue tears fall, and you just let them, staring blankly ahead as you let the time pass between you. Someone will speak again when the time is right. He looks at you with a pained expression. He knew you had a heart of gold, and he knew you wouldn’t have meant what you said. He just wanted you to realise that it hurt, that the one person he cares the most about thought the same as everyone else, when all he wants to do is make you happy and make you see him in a totally different light, see him for who he really is. The time passes by painstakingly slowly and he stands up to move his chair closer to you. Your cheeks have the trails of salty tears painted on them and he leans in to wrap an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but the arms of the plastic chairs get in the way, and it becomes an awkward shuffle of limbs, so he ends up pulling away. “Let’s go inside? Talk about it somewhere more private.” He nods towards the now large crowd of people now outside and you nod back in response. Standing tall over you now, he holds out his hand and you take it gratefully, standing up out of your chair and you both head back in towards the house. The heat of the kitchen hits you with an immense waft as soon as you step through the doors, and you forget how busy it was. You still have Steve’s hand in yours and he guides you quickly through the kitchen towards the stairs. Luckily, you don’t bump into Gina or Joanne as you dread to think of the encounter you’d have if she saw you both hand in hand…
As you reach the top of the stairs, Steve’s brows furrow as he looks towards his open bedroom door, he always leaves it shut when he has parties. You both move quickly towards his room and the sight you’re met with is almost laughable. Gina sits proudly on top of Jeremy, a boy from your school, kissing in the messiest, but oddly passionate way, you’ve ever seen. You’re almost mesmerised by it, you can’t seem to look away.
“Jesus Christ, Gina you must be desperate.” Steve says, clicking on his main bedroom light and Gina and Jeremy both squint towards you, the light overbearing for all four of you. “Out, c’mon. Take this elsewhere.” His voice is stern and authoritative, kind of a turn on. The pair detangle themselves and Jeremy exits first, looking extremely pleased with himself. Gina follows soon after, her cheeks a deep crimson. “God I’ll have to wash my sheets now.” He shudders comically and you laugh as you both enter his room. His door shuts softly, and you stand there awkwardly as he goes over to turn on his little bedside lamps meaning he can shut off his overpoweringly bright main lamp. You go over and take a seat perched on the end of his bed and he follows, placing himself next to you.
The room fills with a warming, cosy feel as his main light has been shut off and now the room is filled with a soft, yellow glow, going well with the feeling of drunkenness which does not seem to be dissipating. A few moments go by, and your silence is filled with the muffled noise from downstairs, random cheers and shouts are heard every so often with the thump of music vibrating the floorboards ever so slightly.
“You really mean what you said outside?” He turns his head to face you, his eyes searching your face for the answer before you can verbalise it.
Gradually, you nod your head. “Of course, Steve.”
A small smile appears on his lips, “Y’know, I spoke to Dustin about you a while ago.”
Your eyes widen and you tilt your head slightly. “Oh really?”
“Yeah,” he laughs slightly, his shoulders going up and down, “I told him how I felt and that I thought you’d never feel the same. He was all for me telling you and talking to you about it, you know how he gets.” You nod in agreement; you can almost see his little face beaming at the prospect of you both together. “I just held off cause I guess, I dunno.”
His voice sounds tired, and you don’t know whether that’s just the alcohol wearing off or the raw emotion he’s feeling. “Steve, you can talk to me.” Reassuringly, you place a hand on his arm and gently bring it back and forth.
“I know.” He turns to your direction and smiles, “I always thought you were too good for me. I cared too much about what people said, the fact people think I just have flings and I can’t be serious. I always worried you believed all that and wouldn’t see past it.” He rubs his hands together in between his legs as he rests his forearms on his thighs. “I suppose that’s why I got so upset when you said that earlier.”
Another wave of guilt washes over you and you close your eyes, regret filling you from head to toe. “Oh my God Steve… I’m so sorry. If I could take back what I said I would, but I can’t. I just want you to know I don’t think of you in that way at all. Quite the opposite. I think you’re remarkable, Steve.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Remarkable? Seriously?”
“What?!” You give him a slight push with your elbow, “Quit making fun of me I’m trying to be nice.”
He settles back against you, your shoulders resting on one another’s with your arms pressed tightly together. He turns his head slightly, so his face is very close to yours, too close that if it was anyone else, you’d be yelling for them to move. “Would you mind if I kissed you?” His voice is barely a whisper, you feel his warmth moving in closer to you.
“You wanna kiss me?” You question, not sure if you’re hearing him right.
He nods gently, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear but leaving his fingers there to linger, the tips of his fingers gently tracing across your temples and down to your cheeks. You nod back at him, and he leans closer, bridging the gap that was becoming ever so smaller as the seconds passed. Now, your lips meet. Gently at first, moving along in a rhythm that you have been waiting what feels like eternity to feel, then gradually as his hand fixes itself to the side of your face, he deepens the kiss. You happily welcome this, a feeling of warmth erupting in the pit of your stomach. Ever so slightly, you feel as if he is starting to guide you back towards the bed and your muscles ease down slowly as he does so, allowing him to guide you in whatever way he wants.
Abruptly, the sound of the door handle turns violently and the door swings open. Your kiss is interrupted and Steve’s head twitches back towards the door so you prop yourself up on your elbows. You hear Robin before you see her.
“Holy shit.” She says, holding an, almost empty, bottle of neat spirit. “Ho-ly shit.” She repeats, looking at both of your cherry red cheeks. “You guys!” She waltzes into the room, swinging her bottle around before placing it down onto the ground. You finally sit up onto the bed and bring your legs up, making space for Robin to come and sit with you. Steve allows her in and she flops down on the bed. “Holy shit.” She breaths again, looking to you then back to Steve. “Wait till I tell Dustin.” Steve looks at you and raises an eyebrow and you nod in response. “He is gonna lose his freaking mind.” She shuts her eyes slightly and peers at you both, “So does this mean then that you guys are like-“she points at you both with her index finger, waving it around loosely between you both, “Does this mean you guys are like boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Steve takes your hand in his and smiles at you, then back to Robin, “Hopefully it won’t be too long for that.”
She nods greatly, placing the spirit bottle down between you all on the bed and she takes both of your hands, joining the three of you together in a mini circle. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” Robin smiles tiredly at you both.
You laugh out loud and look to Steve, then back to Robin. “You’re telling me.” The three of you stay upstairs a while whilst Robin fills you in on everything that’s happened downstairs, including Gina and Jeremy.. so you both decide to play dumb and seem shocked when she tells you for the first time. Inside, you feel warm and fulfilled at the thought that everything has worked out okay between you both, and you can now start your new chapter together.  
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AUTUMN  in Hocus Pocus (1993)
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