girl I just can't get over the byers reader fic u wrote. needing more that if ur up for it
love your writing, have a good dayyyy <3333
funny running into you here
pairing: steve harrington x byers!reader
summary: request above! i combined these two asks<3
word count: 1.2k
content warnings: steve and jon hate each other—what else is new?? banter, steve is annoying (fond), will is a cutie pie and a little shit, not proofread
author’s note: hi angels <33 ty ty ty for requesting! i hope you like this sweethearts and thank you for being so patient
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The sun’s setting when Jon pulls into the parking lot of the local theatre. He lets the engine run idly as he lets Will stuff as many gas station snacks into your purse as he can.
The likelihood that the three of you still get a bucket of popcorn is high but you’d be damned if you paid for the overpriced candy choices when you could get them for half off just down the road.
“Okay, Will—I love you kiddo but you need to stop buying the family sized twizzlers. One, they never fit in the bag and two, you never finish them!” You growl out as you watch him attempt to rip your purse clean open.
“It will fit!” He insists with a frown, huffing as he tries to force it down but when you hear the echo of a tear through the car you scowl and snatch your purse back to you.
“Leave them in the car or you’re getting locked in here.” You threaten him with a pointed finger.
Jonathan lets out a snort of laughter as he blows out a smoke cloud through the cracked window.
“She will actually leave you here,” your older brother comments.
Will frowns, “fine.” He agrees dully.
With a shared look of exasperation with Jonathan, you all climb out of the car.
Your purse is only slightly suspiciously bulky—enough that the teens working for minimum wage probably won’t care enough to check.
You’re walking through the doors, debating with Jon about how much butter is too much butter to put on the large popcorn bucket you’re bound to share between you three when you hear your voice being called.
You still. You know that voice.
Jesus Christ do you wish you didn’t know that voice.
“Hey!” Steve greets cheerily, walking up to the three of you with a smug grin on his face.
Your face drops and you notice Will stifling a laugh.
Your cautious peering at Jonathan confirms what you’d already assumed—he’s scowling and glaring something fierce at Steve.
“Hey?” You say incredulously.
“Why are you here?” You hiss out, lifting both of your arms to swat at Steve’s letterman covered chest.
“I was in the area,” he replies matter of factly.
You hear Jonathan mutter something under his breath and with a quick glare to shut him up, you turn back to the original offender.
“You’re a piece of work you know that?” You huff out, flicking him upside the head and ignoring his yelp as you turn on your heel and drag both a smirking Will and eerily silent Jon to the concessions stand.
“Well, since I’m here—“ Steve begins happily, seemingly choosing to ignore the frosty atmosphere he’d been greeted with.
“No.” You and Jonathan chorus together, instantly whipping your heads to stare at each other with matching scowls.
No DNA test needed apparently.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Steve whines out in complaint, frowning at you as if you’re being the unreasonable one.
“You were going to ask to sit with us,” You start, making Steve’s protests down.
He shrugs weakly, looking as innocent as can be.
“And the answer would be no.” You say firmly.
“What? Why!” He shouts immediately, his expression annoyed. He’s immediately frowned at by multiple other customers to which he waves off with his suave smile that has Jonathan scoffing again.
You elbow him softly in his ribs, feeling the breath of air he lets out in a grunt against your necks you stare Steve down.
“C’mon,” he pleads fruitlessly with you. “I came here all by myself—you wouldn’t let your best friend sit all alone would you?”
He pouts. Unfortunately for you, you find it simultaneously cute and hilarious.
You sigh exhaustively.
“Tuck that bottom lip away Harrington, you can sit with us,” he brightens immediately like a dog with a bone.
You hear Jonathan starting to voice his protests but you only louden your voice.
“If you promise to behave” you reprimand him.
“You talk to me like I’m an untrained dog sometimes, you ever realise that?” Steve huffs, crossing his arms petulantly.
You only stare him down hardly.
“Fine,” he mutters under his breath. “I promise, okay?” He says quickly under your glare.
You hum in acknowledgment, turning away from him as you shuffle up to the counter to order your snacks.
When Steve hands over his card with the intention to pay, you all but swat at his hands and toss the money you and Jon had brought at the unsuspecting teen.
“But I’m the piece of work.” You hear Steve mutter under his breath as he stomps childishly behind you, arms full with a bucket of popcorn and his own soda.
Before you have the chance to retort, you hear the echoing sound of Steve’s yelp and when you turn around you’re greeted with the sight of Steve rubbing at his shin with a pained grimace and an all too innocent looking Will with a serene smile on his face.
“Brat.” You hear Steve mutter fondly.
“Asshole.” You hear Will huff.
“Language.” You and Jonathan chorus again simultaneously, this time and expression of dawning horror on both of your faces.
“It’s like they’re morphing into one.” Steve whispers conspiratorially with the youngest Byers, delighting in the small giggle his comment elicits.
“And it’s almost like we can hear your smartass remarks Steven.” You remark cheerily, not turning around.
Steve feels his face heat at your comment, butterflies swarming his tummy in multitudes as he huffs a fond laugh.
“You’re pathetic,” he hears Jonathan snort, not realizing the older boy had slowed down in his walk with you to walk next to Will.
Steve frowns, indignation flaring inside of him as he opens his mouth to protest.
“Whatever you’re gonna say—can it. I already know you’re obsessed with her.” Jonathan cuts him off with a small smirk, shaking his head.
If Steve thought his tone sounded almost akin to fondness, that was between him and his inside voice.
When you all walk inside the theatre, Steve is surprised to see it almost full.
There’s just enough seats for the four of you to fill up so when Steve catches sight of you taking the sight down the middle of the aisle, he jogs slightly to get the one next to you.
Only to be cut off by Will, who saddles up next to you with little fanfare—already digging through the apparent snack aisle you’d managed to sneak into your bag.
He relents nonetheless, moving to take up the other seat to your side—only for Jonathan to already be occupying it.
“Oh,” you say softly, humour in your voice. “No worries Steve, there’s still a seat next to me!” Will remarks happily, though Steve detects the note of amusement in his tone.
Brat.
“Thanks,” he says belatedly, taking the seat half-heartedly as he stares woefully at your form over the top of Wills head.
The projector whirs slightly as it powers up and as you turn slightly, you catch Steve’s eyes.
He’s doing that sad puppy dog thing again, frowning emphatically and fluttering his eyelashes obnoxiously.
You sigh exasperated, but a smile blooms across your face at his dramatics.
You lift your hand over the top of Will’s shoulder, cuddling him into you but letting your arm hang loosely over the seat.
Steve lights up, lifting his own arm and placing it softly over your own and running his fingers over your bicep softly, smiling as he feels you shudder at the sensation.
