Joe Keery Imagines

Drunk Steve-Steve Harrington

I pulled myself out of my book when my phone started ringing. The second I answered it, I was deafened by loud music. I pulled my phone away from my ear and saw Steve's name on my caller ID.

"Steve?"

"Y/N!"

"What the. . ."

"Hey, Y/N," came Robin's voice through the phone.

"Hi, Robin." I laughed. "Let me guess, Steve is shit-faced drunk?"

"Oh yeah," she elongated. She cleared her throat before adding, "Y/N, it's bad. I mean. . . He's out of it, girl. I don't think I've ever seen him this drunk."

"Well, maybe he. . ."

"He got into a fight."

My heart dived into my stomach. Steve fighting is a sign that he's about to go off the deep end. And fast.

"I'm on my way."

* * * * *

"Oh boy," I sighed as Steve stumbled out of the house. I got out of my car and walked over to him.

"Y/N!" He drunkenly giggled as he wrapped his arms around me.

I pulled out of the hug and examined his bruised face. "Steve," I sighed. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. I sent him a knowing look when his shrug made him cringe.

"Steve. . ." I started but he cut me off.

"It's fine," he sighed, dramatically. "I just got into a little fight. That's all."

"That's not all," I said, my anger building. "You've never gotten in a fight before and lately, it seems like you're in one every few weeks. I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but you're starting to worry me."

"Y/N, I'm fine."

Through his drunken haze, he saw the worry in my eyes. I gasped when he wrapped his arms around me, burying his face into my neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling my neck. "It wasn't for nothing though. I got into a fight with Tommy because he made a comment about El. I stood up for her."

"Oh," I said under my breath. "I love that you stood up for El but. . . You got hurt. I'm never going to be okay with you getting hurt."

"I'm sorry," he said again. I cleared my throat when I noticed we were still in a deep embrace.

"Steve?" I said, breaking the silence that fell between us. "You ready to go home?"

"I don't want to go home," he whined as he pulled out of the hug and literally stomped his foot like a little kid. "My parents aren't even there. I'll be by myself all weekend long. I hate being by myself."

"Then why don't you stay at my place tonight?" I offered.

"What about your parents?" He pouted, dramatically sticking his bottom lip out.

"My dad had a work trip this weekend and my mom went with him," I shrugged. I wrapped my arm around his waist and led him over to my car.

"YAY!" He yelled. "Sleepover at Y/N's house!"

"Just get in my car," I laughed.

I walked around the front of my car and got in my seat. I looked over and laughed when I saw Steve was already asleep.

"I'll wake you when we get home," I chuckled.

Knowing Steve gets a massive headache when he drinks, I came prepared. I grabbed my purse from the back seat and pulled out the ice pack I brought. I gently placed it on his head. He mumbled something but didn't wake up.