u r genuinely so talented!! i would love to see a steve x reader fic from u too 😁😁
. ݁₊ ⊹ . loyal customer ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.
steve harrington x fem!reader
a/n: hello guys i think im mischaracterising steve kinda bad here but he's so much fun to write he's a mere three apples tall. and of course robin sneak in here that's my irl gf. i am mostly referencing steve from my family video hcs sooooooo yes. maybe as a precursor. but i made a 100 on my org chem exam so this is my gift to the world..... here i come :3... also card readers didn't exist in the eighties im sorry please dont throw tomatoes at me pls its kinda part of the joke. also travis martinez hcs coming after this and also more mike stuff hehhahhah. ok but seriously please tell me whether you guys like this or not im quite queasy about this okay love you guys bai. STEVE IS SUCH A DORK IN THIS!!!! KLUTZ!!!!!!!
ding, ding, ding! your palm slams down on the call bell. you scowl, staring at the break room door with your new hot date, tommy, caressing your back gently.
"ugh, the workers here are so useless," you groan lightly, turning your face to tommy. you try to fight the smile pushing on your lips, but his freckles were so beautiful and his eyes so kind you couldn't help but cheese. you bring a hand to caress the side of his face. "tommy," you coo before the door into the back swings open. you turn your attention back over, placing the box face up on the counter with an unimpressed expression.
"slow day?" you snicker, eyebrows furrowed as steve the hair harrington fixed his vest for service. his lip twitches as he semi-mumbles an answer, a little distracted by your company.
"just this one?" he asks, scooping up the box for risky business in his hand as he distractedly watches tommy's face. tommy answers for you, nodding all macho-ish. even though his face was sickeningly cute, tommy's actions icked you all the way out. perhaps that was why kissing him was the best, he never had the opportunity to speak! "it's a good one, you seen any more of tom cruise's stuff?" steve asks, mostly aimed at you while you curl a strand of hair around your manicured index finger.
"what about that new one that just came out? color of money?" tommy responds instead, raising his eyebrows with a low whistle. "nice one." steve looks a little unamused at his ex-teammate, nodding slowly as he types the movie's code into the computer.
"yeah..." he rings back mindlessly, slipping the box under the counter and trading it out for the actual tape. "who's account do i put it under?" steve asks, his fingers already hovering over the keys. you raise your hand with a polite smile.
"mine is alright." you tell him your full name as if he didn't know it already, typing it out into the computer.
"sweet date, tommy. making your girl pay." he comments sarcastically, scoffing under his breath.
"what's that, harrington? just do your job, video boy," he semi-threatens, appearance tightening. you take a step forward towards the counter so his hand would fall off your back. he looks at you a little puzzled as steve slides you the tape.
"thanks," you nod, giving him a toothy grin before turning around. tommy takes a beat, expression sour before he turns around to sling his arm around you. steve watches your backs recede out of the store, laughing muffled as tommy opens his car door for you.
"dick," robin remarks as she sneaks up from behind, watching steve's bitter eyes. he scoffs, raising his eyebrows.
"tell me the fuck about it." he replies with his arms crossed.
much to nobody's surprise, you and tommy are not compatible. although he was cute, he spoke exclusively in chicago cubs statistics and you, unfortunately, were interested in the rest of the known universe. your faces of disdain and small, unconvincing excuses to avoid seeing him did little to put him at ease and his insistence on the chicago cubs made your eye twitch.
"what about that harrington?" he chuckles, setting the tan paper bag on his kitchen counter. another plus, american dudes loved to move out young! "what a moron," he adds as if it's a harmless little observation he picked up on the way. you hum, slipping the cassette out of its sleeve.
"what about him?" you ask, focused mostly on the back of the tape. suddenly the font on the back of the cassette demands your full intellectual attention.
"you didn't see the way he was talking to us?" he asks with a tone of disbelief, mouth curling up to the side.
"like what?" you shake your head, looking at him with confusion.
"he was totally trying to hit on you." tommy shakes his head, as if you're the most clueless thing in the world. you let out an impatient huff.
"was he hitting on me, or were you too busy digging in your own ass that you forgot that other men are allowed to speak to me?" you argue in a calm voice, eyes narrowed on him. it's a moment before you bite your lip with a pang of regret hitting you. the room goes quiet apart from the rumbling washing machine. "sorry." ach, awkward!
"you're, um," he nods, eyebrows raising. "you're good," he shakes his head. "let's watch the movie and get to bed," he supposes with a polite nod, fingering at the inner corner of his eye.
the next afternoon, you returned a movie you didn't finish.
you push the door into the family video, psychedelic furs playing softly over the speakers. sundays are busy days. you queue in line, biting your lip as you stare at the posters of the new films. the line moves up but you don't realise until the kid behind you kicks the back of your leg. you scoff, spitting some jumbled insult at him in your head as you move up to the counter.
"oh, hi, robin!" your expression changes instantly, mouth curving up into a tall smile. she says your name back with relish, taking the tape you set down on the counter.
"risky business? ...heard it was for date night." she grins, her cheek scrunching up on one side from her cheeky insinuation.
"so you have," you hum, tucking a stray curl behind your pierced ears. you feel a little awkward, holding the truth over her head.
"how was that?" she asks, typing into the computer before she kneels under the counter for a moment.
"well, we didn't finish it and i dumped him on the drive home," you confess bluntly. she looks at you with a pleased chortle.
"attagirl," she banters playfully, sliding the tape into its sleeve and putting it under the counter. she types something into the card reader. "so no more cubs stats?" you can't help but laugh at her. she's so quick, it's upsetting.
"retired jersey," she earns a shake of the head, handing her your plastic card, orange shining in the overhead commercial lights. she chuckles at the comment. as she swipes the card, a loud clatter rings from the horror section. you peek around robin's big computer.
steve despairs as he knocks over the new christine restoration stand. he puts the display back up, peeking over his shoulder at robin for help. she just widens her eyes at him to scold him telepathically.
"what he gets for gawking," she snickers, handing your card back.
"huh?" you chuckle mindlessly, shoving your card next to your id.
"oh, nothing, just that he went crazy over that interaction yesterday. was probably eyeing you up." she suggests, her words quick and jumbled as if she was gonna die if she said it any slower. you just laugh.
"what's that supposed to mean?" you put your wallet back into your back pocket while the receipt comes out slowly, squawking as it slides out.
"whatever you think it means, my beloved." she hums sweetly, handing you your ticket with a smug expression. you look at her with a puzzled face but she just moves onto the little shit behind you, shoving you out of the way as you gawk at steve this time. you let out a small oof at the push, taking it as a sign to get yourself out of there.
little strands of hair stick to the back of your neck with moisture, your face still fresh from the shower. it had been days since you saw steve at family video and for some reason, you still had it stowed away deep in the titular crevice of your brain.
his panicked expression. his awkward chuckle, warm smiles to the woman that helped him pick up the empty boxes of the tapes. you sit up, legs still tucked under the covers and reach over to your night stand.
you hold the phone up to your ear, pressing the transmitter into your cheek as you click steve's number in haphazardly from memory. after a moment, the speaker makes a noise of the phone being taken off the base.
"yello?" a voice echoes into the speaker.
"hi, is this family video?" you decide playfully. you can hear his breath hitch over the phone, mouth morphing into a grin.
"maybe, who's asking?" he says thoughtfully.
"well, i was wondering if—" you're quickly interrupted.
"you didn't answer my question," he hangs it over your head, winning a laugh out of you.
"well, i wish to stay anonymous." you argue.
"i hate to break it to you," he adds your name at the end just to play. "you can't quite rent a tape anonymously," he tells you regrettably. he doesn’t mention tommy, whatsoever. you suspect he heard you at the store.
"i didn't know they hired stalkers at family video?" you quirked a brow, shifting over your comforter.
"only when loyal customers stop coming in," steve defends himself nobly.
"the store survives without me, i trust?" you ask, twisting the phone cord around your thumb.
"barely," he huffs, raising his eyebrows on his end.
"oh, i'm sure. how's my favourite clerk?" your expression is painted with a wide grin.
"i'm doing quite well, thanks for asking," he says with some warmth in his voice.
"no, no, no, i meant robin, of course," you shook your head, rolling your eyes with faux annoyance.
"oh, i see how it is," his voice cracks boyishly.
"well, don't leave me in suspense," you insist, crossing your arm across the other.
"relieved at your absence." steve informs you dryly.
"liar." you accuse simply, staring up at your ceiling fan lazily run around.
"...it was quieter." he admits after a moment's silence.
"quiet is good," you nod affirmatively as if he could see it.
"not always." he counters, tilting his head on his end. you let the silence build for a moment before you giggle a little to yourself.
"you're getting philosophical on company time." you point out, nose scrunched up in banter.
"whatever," he laughs back. he waits before he opens his mouth again. "you coming in this week or are you still scarred from me knocking over christine?" you look around the room, hesitating before you answer him.
"depends." your response is fixed and controlled.
"on what?" he asks with a small giddy quality to his voice.
"when're you working?" you ask.
"all week." he tells you with excitement audibly tightening. you hum, tracing the cord tighter around your thumb.
"...i'll consider it," you tell him finally. "try not to knock over any displays this time?"
"no promises," he says with an incredulous huff.
"good night, harrington," you snicker with too much joy. you hang the phone up before he can fully say good night.
you push the door of the family video open, hair bouncing on your shoulders as you looked around the crowded establishment. if you were an employee, you'd love an environment. the air buzzes with excitement and freedom. free to choose your tape!
in a fit of boldness, you grab a film you'd never heard of. ever. you were picky, you knew this. you could only blame it on the stupid buzz you get when you're in here.
the queue is lengthy and slow. dads tap their foot on the patterned carpet, glancing at their watches every couple seconds. children, tugging on their mommy's dress sleeve, begging to get home quicker.
the whole time, you watched steve harrington smile and type into the computer at robin's side, retrieving actual tapes for the customers.
you cheered a little in your head as you immediately notice steve's face brighten.
"steve, wife robin," you greet both of them warmly, setting the tape on the counter.
"your majesty," she says affectionately, steve rolling his eyes at her before returning his delicate gaze to you.
"it's nice seeing you normal again," you coo towards steve as he works on your tape. he's trying to act very natural, like he didn't notice you the moment you parked your car by the doors.
"what? normal again? where'd i go?" he implores you to tell him.
"last time i saw you here at this counter, you were green with envy." you giggle, digging in your purse.
"i did no such thing," he shakes his head, sliding your new tape over to you.
"according to many sources, that is exactly what you did sir." you giggle resting your arms on the tall counter.
"many sources?" he scoffed. "was there a press conference that i missed?"
robin leans her head back at his excruciatingly bad wit, groaning.
"totally practiced that in the mirror," she laughs weakly, squeezing her eyes shut. you hand steve your card, your fingers slipping against his delightfully.
"just watch your hands," you suggest quietly as he fumbles with the card reader.
"i know what i'm doing," he mumbles, rolling his eyes. it takes him a second to actually align the card into the actual reader. you watch him, softly biting your bottom lip.
robin watches the interaction with her mouth ajar before really wincing and covering her eyes at the card interaction.
"fucking weirdos," she laughs, walking away from the cash register. finally, he successfully passes the card.
"see? you're a natural, even your first time." you joke, taking the tape and your card from him before nodding at him. blood fills his cheeks instantaneously. "perhaps you'll consider attending the next press conference."
you laugh a little, walking backwards to see his expression as you leave the store.
"for the love of god, go compose yourself," robin urges, shoving him away from the counter at the sight of his tightened pants.
