Stranger Things Imagines

Bring It On Home To Me // Steve Harrington

It had been a few months since she had visited the attic. Last time, she was on a mission to find pictures of her parents when they were young for an anniversary present, she was creating. This time, the mission was to dig out her dads old records. They had been placed in the attic when the entire family had moved house and they had been gathering dust since. She was hoping they could play some records as they sat down to eat their thanksgiving feast; music was a big thing in their house. It was playing constantly, and thanksgiving was no different.

Not anymore, she thought. Finding a few boxes labelled 'dads tunes', she brought them down to her room one by one. Being extra careful not to damage any of the records inside.

The record player was already set up in her room, so it was time to start rifling through the boxes and see what her dad had listened to when he was a teenager.

The box contained dusty records by artists such as Dion and Ricky Nelson. The latter's name sounding familiar on her tongue as the artist had died earlier that year in a plane crash. Her father was extremely upset over his death; to him, a musical genius had left the earth, never to return.

Ricky Nelson was played first; she easily recognised the opening to 'Poor Little Fool' – memories of herself dancing along to the very same song as a child, cropping up. She grabs Dion's record next and she is singing along to his catchy tunes before long. Dancing around her room, she organised the large amount of records that her father had accumulated through his youth.

She doesn't realise it, but she spends the entire day dancing, singing and listening to music. She also doesn't realise just how much the temperature had dropped until she was shivering as she shrugged on a hoodie and closed her bedroom window. Autumn was well on its way, and thanksgiving was just around the corner. Leaves were yellow, orange, and red – her favourite time of year, a picturesque time of year.

She continued though: she danced and sang and had a good time. The record she chose to play next was by her father's favourite singer: Sam Cooke. His incredible voice filled her room, and she was soon singing along at the top of her voice. She swayed side to side as the crooner continued.

She was so enraptured by his voice that she didn't notice Steve leaning against her door. That is, she didn't realise until she span around and almost died of fright.

"Steve!" She gasped, breathless from fear.

He didn't answer, he was bent over double, trying to catch his breath from laughing too hard.

"Steve! Stop laughing. You scared me, you dick."

"Now, now. No need for such language." Steve tutted.

"Yes, actually there is every reason for that sort of language. My boyfriend almost killed by frightening me!"

"Okay... okay. I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry for frightening you."

"Thank you." She smiled at her boyfriend, and at his apology. She crooked a finger at him, beckoned him to her. He was soon in her space. He filled her thoughts for the majority of the day, and he overwhelmed her senses with love, warmth and happiness.

He kissed her, quickly and sweetly. A 'hello' kiss; she loved those more than the 'goodbye' kisses because it meant he was staying for a while before returning to his home. She dreamed of the days when he would kiss her and stay with her for eternity.

"What have you been doing today then?" He asked.

She gestured to her bedroom, the masses of records that covered her bed and her shelves. "This. I have spent the entire day listening to great music and singing along when I knew the song."

"That sounds like a day well spent. What's coming on next?"

"It's a good one. Sam Cooke, Bring It on Home to Me." She answered, checking the record sleeve for the song listing.

The song started after she had finished speaking. She started to sway, humming along to its familiar and beautiful song. Steve grabbed her hand, pulled her towards him and started to sway together. It wasn't much, but it was still wonderful. She cherished moments like this, she placed them in a little box in her mind and when she was feeling low, she would remember these moments with her Steve and her mood would soon be lifted.

"This is a great song. And I don't want to stray off the subject, but are you wearing my hoodie?"

She looked down at her clothes and realised that she was in fact wearing Steve's hoodie. His favourite one, in fact.

"I am. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. I want to see you in my clothes for the rest of our lives."

"That sounds like the best kind of life. I'm going to start it right now. You're not getting this hoodie back."

"Oh I'm not, am I?"

She shook her head, she starts to laugh. Pulling Steve in by the shirt, she kisses him. He responds, and he's soon pressing her into her mattress. She smiles against his lips, yeah, she's ready for this for the rest of her life.