Steve Harrington Imagines (SSAT)

To Taste Your Tears On My Tongue.

Summary: The night after Steve's harrowing escape from the tunnels, he finds himself at the window of his best friend. After being beaten, attacked and facing the upside down head-on, Steve and the reader can no longer keep to themselves.

Warnings: Mentions of violence (the fight at the Byers), and romantic/sexual themes (Light smut?)

a/n: I wrote this with the intention of it being a full-length fic and yet here we are (writer's block is killing me slowly.) This is a bit different from what I usually write, so forgive me if it's not my best! I hope you enjoy it!

  Your best friend, Steve Harrington, had broken your heart time and time again without ever realizing he had done so.

You loved each other; Neither of you had to say it to know it was true, as it was in the small actions you did for one another. It was the way he'd do a cheesy Elvis impression when you were having an off day. It was running to his house in the rain with a brown paper bag that coveted his beloved hairspray as he had run out the day of his cousin's wedding. It was the late night drives to the quarry when you couldn't sleep - your mind plagued by insomnia and his heart diseased by loneliness.

Time and time again, he found himself entangled between the sheets of someone who only cared for his status quo or the Harrington trust fund. Time and time again you laid alone in your room, wishing you had the guts to tell Steve the truth.

Tonight was different.

His blood crusted knuckles knocked on your bedroom window, causing your heart to tighten with alarm. Rolling onto your other side, you hesitantly sat up. Tugging down the hem of your sleep shirt, you made your way toward the curtains, your socks sliding now and then across the cold hardwood floor.

Clutching the curtain, you pushed the billowing fabric aside. Awaiting on the other side, with a pale palm pressed against the glass, Steve perked up from the shutters he leaned on, as you appeared before him.

His teeth chattered as he waited out in the rain, water soaked through his jacket and left his hair clinging to his neck.

Stuck in a tranced gaze, taking in the swollen features of his face and deep purples that bruised his skin, you stared back at him. Snapping out of your haze, you frantically cranked the window handle. The corner of his mouth twitched at how comically slow the window inched open and at the panicked yet determined look in your eyes.

"Who designed this!" you growled in frustration, feverishly trying to crank the handle. With some help from Steve, the two of you managed to pry it open enough for him to slip through.

"Sorry, I would've used the front door but I didn't want your parents to ask questions," he explained as he gestured to his face.

"What happened, Steve?" You asked, pressing your cool fingers to the heat of his swelling lip.

"Hargrove." He grumbled, taking your hand in his before tugging you into his chest. "God, I thought I'd never see you again."

His confession was strained as if he were choking back tears. Like a jackhammer, his heart pounded against his ribs and rattled in his chest. Steve cradled the back of your head with one hand and gripped around your waist with the other, holding onto you as if his life depended on you

"Why would you think that?" You asked softly as the zipper of his jacket pressed into your cheek, though you didn't mind nor did you feel it at all - your mind was too focused on the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands on your body.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I just needed to see you." He swallowed the truth, his lips ghosting over the top of your head before placing a kiss on your hair. "Y/N, I need you and I don't deserve you."

"Steve, you're scaring me," you admitted, pushing off his chest. "Why are you talking like this? You make it sound like-like-like you're dying or something. Did that Billy kid threaten to do something worse?"

His band-aid branded hands cupped your face, nearly trembling with anticipation or perhaps it was uncertainty. Within moments, the warmth of his breath caressed your lips, leaving chilled bumps to rise on your arms.

"Y/N..." he trailed off, looking down at you from beneath his long lashes.

"Yes?" your lip quivered as you gradually gave into his gravitational pull. Your hands nearly shook as you raised them to his jaw, gently dragging the soft pad of your thumb across his bottom lip that jutted out ever so slightly.

The first kiss was hard and quick, his teeth nearly grinding into yours before pulling away, as though he was only now regaining control over his body. Slowly your eyelids pulled back, revealing a glossy look in your gaze.

One moment you were still as water on a windless day, just waiting for the other to move, waiting for some sort of sign, indicating there hadn't been any regret in the others actions. The next moment you were a hurricane - a frenzy of emotion and an all-consuming entity that devoured one another.

Wrapped in a quilt, the warmth of your bodies trapped in the heat and kept you warm from the early November air that seeped through the open window. Your legs tangled together like rose vines entwined on a garden trellis.

A sharp inhale escaped your lips as his teeth grazed your neck, taking the soft skin between his lips before placing a kiss in the same spot - a gentle reminder of his caring nature that shined through all of his actions.

"Sorry." he apologized, slowly hoisting himself up on his hands as he hovered over you. "Are you okay, is everything alright?"

"Steve, everything's perfect," you said with a dreamy smile, as you brushed the damp tendril of hair that clung to his forehead, out of his eyes. "You're perfect."

His concerned look lifted into a bashful grin before sinking down and settling between your legs. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, Steve took in the smell of your coconut shampoo while you left crescent moons imprinted on his shoulder blades.

"I love you." the words slipped out almost seamlessly as you laid on Steve's chest, tracing circles with your nail on his skin that left him shivering in his sleepy haze.

"Really?" he croaked in disbelief, shifting beneath you as he tried to sit up.

Pulling the covers over your chest, you sat on your knees and avoided his gaze. "Yeah."

The bed dipped where his hand now rested by your side, leaning across your lap, his free hand found your chin as he tilted your face toward his. The moment his lips connected with yours, white heat erupted from the pit of your stomach and echoed into your lungs; your knuckles paled as you rang the fabric of your comforter in your hands.

"Do you mean it?" he asked in a pained voice, his misty doe eyes searching yours for reassurance.

"I've always loved you, always. I was too scared to tell you because...you always liked someone else," you confessed, hesitantly bringing your lips to his again.

Without having any sense of control over the pressure that had built behind his eyes, Steve felt tears of relief trail down his bruised cheeks. He tasted of blood and salt, as his tears met your tongue through the savoury kiss you shared.

Steve could finally love someone who would love him just as much.

He found you.