❝ Dream Boy ❞
a collection of steve harrington imagines set both in canon hawkins ( with upside down ) and au hawkins ( without the upside down ) // centered around steve harrington x reader
note: requests are open, send me a message here or
at my t...
Steve has always been your best friend, nothing more, but when you have a falling out with Tommy he finally realizes what's been there all along ♥️ Warnings: Physical Fight / Violence, Mild Mentions of Blood, Language, Bullying.
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"Come on, we're leaving," Tommy sniped, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the door. He was unsteady on his feet and your stomach dropped as he fumbled his keys from his pocket.
Things had been unraveling between you for a while, not that it was ever really good, but when Steve hadn't pushed past 'best friends' you felt yourself settle for the other boy. You weren't exclusive by any means, but after Carol left for college you sort of fell together as you filled the void she left behind.
When Tommy wasn't being an asshole he could be sweet sometimes, but the weight of keeping up appearances and maintaining his status - and maybe the fact you weren't Carol - had turned him into a pressure cooker.
So. You were here. Again. The voice inside your head telling you this was it. The breaking point. You couldn't do it anymore.
"But—Steve said he'd drive us," you protested, pulling your arm away from him. Tommy always drove home buzzed and you hated it, but this was different. He was drunk. Glancing over your shoulder you gave Steve a panicked look and he ran his hands anxiously through his hair, taking a couple steps closer to you both.
"Hey, c'mon man, you're wasted you can't driv—"
"No one asked you, Harrington," Tommy cut him off, rounding on his friend to get in his face.
Steve could smell the booze, the cheap cigars, could see the glassy look of his eyes. Giving you a quick glance, he drew his brows together in concern and reached to put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Tommy, c'mon, I can drive yo—"
There was no warning as Tommy pulled back and loosed a punch to Steve's face, sending him stumbling backwards and into the sofa behind him, "I don't need your help, man."
"Jesus, Tommy!" your heart leapt into your throat as you watched Steve put his fingers to the bloodied cut on his lip, clambering up from where he'd landed.
"You're drunk. Shit. At least call a cab," Steve's tone held heat, obviously frustrated, but he was persistent, still trying to be a friend even when he didn't want to be. He took a few steps back toward Tommy, fingers brushing against yours as he passed, and grabbed the keys from him, "Don't. Drive. Please."
They leveled each other, Steve's breathing a bit quicker than Tommy's as his fingers came back to the cut on his lip.
Huffing a laugh Tommy shook his head, wagging a finger in Steve's face. "You think you're so fucking cool. So 'responsible' now. Right? With your little shithead kids chasing you around," he took a step in toward Steve again, swaying slightly as he planted his feet. "Well. Let me tell you something, King Steve, we don't need that shit here, m'kay?"
