steve harrington imagines

you need to control your temper.

prompt: #79, "you need to control your temper."

—

"Where's your little boy toy, Y/L/N?"

You rolled your eyes as Billy leaned against the locker next to yours. After grabbing your history textbook, you shut your locker and looked at the boy, your hands on your hips. A smirk was placed loosely across his lips.

"Steve is in class. Where you should be, yes?" You held your gaze firmly as Billy ran his tongue across his bottom lip, the smirk still very visible.

"Shouldn't you be in class, too, Y/N?"

"I have study hall."

"Study hall is very skippable, you know," Billy said and you coughed as the bell rang. "What do you say? I can show you something that I'm nearly positive pretty boy Harrington hasn't, before."

"I'll have to pass, thanks," you moved to step beside him, but Billy, grabbed your wrist tightly. "Billy."

"Y/N."

He let go of your wrist and you stalked down the hall. When you turned the corner, you realized Billy was following close behind. Shrugging, you turned into the library where you were pulled behind a few bookshelves. "Billy, I mean it."

"C'mon, Y/L/N. Let loose," he whispered, placing a hand on your waist. When you jerked away from him, he only tightened the grip and you bit your tongue, looking up at him. "I can't believe Harrington hasn't made a move yet. If I were him, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you—"

Before you had time to think, you slapped Billy across the face. Chucking slightly, the boy turned back to you with a tight smirk on his face.

"You're going to pay for that one, Y/N."

Suddenly, a cough came from behind the bookshelf that you were currently leaning against. The librarian stood there, glasses perched on her nose and her lips pressed into a tight line.

This caused Billy to step away from you, his hand pulling away from you. "We'll finish this later, Y/N?" He winked as he exited the library.

Later, around lunch, you sat with Steve at a table, picking at the salad placed in front of you. Steve devoured his sandwich and was now staring at you intently.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?" You snapped your neck up to look at him.

"You all right, babe?"

"Yeah," you lied, "just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing," you said. Your eyes trailed behind the boy sitting in front of you, only to meet the eyes of another boy who had walked into the cafeteria. The boy smirked.

"You sure about that?" Steve noticed your gaze and turned around, following the stare. He turned around, his jaw clenched. "What did Billy do?"

"Nothing."

Suddenly, Steve stood up angrily. "Steve!" You called as he stalked over to the boy who stood against the wall. A punch was thrown and all hell broke loose.

Steve's actions had once again nearly landed him in the hospital. He reassured you that everything was fine, and that he didn't need to be carried away in an ambulance. Sighing, you shook your head and instead took him back to your house, where everyone was at work and a first aid kit sat on the kitchen counter.

"I swear, Steve Harrington," you groaned, dabbing the damp facecloth on the cut below his right eye. "You need to control your temper. You're going to get yourself killed, one day, you know that?"

"That's why I have you," he said and you rolled your eyes as he pulled you into him by the belt loops on the side of your jeans. You swatted your hands away, reached behind him for the hydrogen peroxide. Once applied, Steve winced at the stinging sensation and you apologized. "Ouch."

"Man up, Harrington."

"It stings!" he defended himself and you took a step back, looking at the boy. His face was all cut up, and a bruise was already starting to form around his left eye. You sighed, crossing your arms.

"I can handle myself, Steve," you said, rubbing your thumb over his eye. He winced and you sighed deeply. "You don't need to fight my battles for me."

"Billy tried to—"

"Billy is a horrible human being," you said and took your hand back, "who you have also fought in the past. You really should know not to pick a fight with him again."

"Are you calling me weak?"

"I'm not calling you strong."

He rolled his eyes and you inched closer to him, pressing a kiss on Steve's lips. "I love you, but you really need to learn how to channel your anger into something other than your fists."

"I love you too," Steve held you tightly at the waist.

"Can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Please try not to kill yourself."

"I'm not trying to kill myself, Y/N."

"It sure seems like it," you said and a smile crept across his lips. "Just try control yourself more, okay? You worry me too much. And I hate worrying about you. I don't want you to die."

"I don't want to die, either."

"Then stop trying to."

He nodded, placing his lips on yours. "I love you," he said against your lips.

"I love you too."