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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 9 months

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Cingulomania

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A/N: I saw this tiktok about 'Cingulomania' and thought it would be a great imagine! I struggled with picking a character, but this one fits since I'm back in my Steve Harrington era, although I've always been in my Steve Harrington era.

Summary: Like most college students, relationships were crucial to having a good time. That was until you decided that dating was getting tiring. You had been on so many bad dates, but none of them seemed to work out like you hoped. It wasn't until one shift at Family Video did you realize what was going on. You were focused on being in someone else's arms rather than the random dates'.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/F/M: Your Favorite Meal

Cingulomania - the desire to be in someone else's arms.

Takes place in season four (no spoilers)

Warnings:

Long imagine

Steve Harrington x-reader

I handed a woman a copy of The Breakfast Club. She smiled at me and took the bag from the counter. The bell of the door rang when she exited, and a few people stepped in. Robin greeted the new customers, going back to organizing a shelf. "Question," she walked over to me.

I looked up from the agenda of the day. My friend joined me with two movies in hand. "Which one is better, Tron or The Karate Kid?" she asked. I looked at each movie, tapping my chin in thought. Every Friday, Steve and Robin would come over to my apartment and watch a movie.

"The Karate Kid," I said. She nodded and hid it behind the counter so nobody would take it. The customers from earlier came over to rent out their movies.

Robin took care of the small group while I fixed the agenda. Keith wanted us to do a lot of projects today, but knowing Robin and I, we wouldn't get half of them done. We'd usually blame it on how busy the store was, which wasn't a total lie. "Have a great rest of your day," Robin said, waving them goodbye.

She turned to me with her arms resting on the countertop. "I totally forgot I have that date with Sam tonight," I said. Robin's shoulders dropped. "Another date?" she said with a raised brow. I nodded and closed the journal.

I set it below the register, putting the pen on top. I hadn't been going out that frequently. "I promised Sam that we'd eat dinner together," I said. Sam was in my Geometry course.

The two of us had been partners on a project which led to him asking me out. I would've said no, but Sam was nice, and why not? "Is this the Sam with the weird ears or the one that has that snorting laugh?" Robin asked. She pointed to her own ears.

"The one with the snorting laugh," I answered. She laughed herself, covering her mouth to try and suppress her reaction. "Sam is nice, and I'm actually excited for once," I said. Robin smiled and pat me on the shoulder. "At least you're better than Steve," she commented.

Now it was my turn to laugh. She turned back to the outside of the store, watching as some cars drove in and out of the small parking lot. "Don't you get tired of it? I feel like this is your fifth date this month," she said. "It's not a whole lot," I shrugged, "I mean, all four dates have been fails, but I'm confident that I'll find someone."

I always thought it must've been something wrong with me. But Steve would always say that it wasn't my fault, just the guys I was going on dates with. Robin often commented on how the main reason why I couldn't find someone was because I already had someone in my life who was head over heels for me.

And no, she wasn't talking about Keith. At least, I hope she wasn't. Keith never had a good rep when it came to asking people out. "I just don't see you and Sam working out," Robin sighed. "Thank you, Robin, for the encouragement," I remarked.

She rolled her eyes at my response. She hopped over the counter to grab a pencil that had fallen. Robin set it back into the jar next to the computer. "I'm just saying," she put her hands up, "You have the perfect person in your life, and you just can't see it." She ignored my confused expression and continued speaking.

"Steve. Y/N, I'm talking about Steve."

"What?"

"Steve. I'm talking about him," she repeated. "Yeah, I heard you the first time," I responded. I shook my head in disagreement, moving over to the computer to type in today's rentals. Robin walked around to join my side.

She set a hand on top of mine, pulling my hand away from the keyboard. "Cingulomania," she said. Now I was really freaking confused. She let out a long, heavy sigh. "The desire to be held in someone's arms," Robin continued. "Huh?" I replied.

"Oh my god. You and Steve are really the same," Robin said. She reached over the computer to turn it off. Before I could stop her, Robin grabbed the notebook and pen and chucked it over the counter. She stared at me with crossed arms. "Cingulomania. It means the desire to be held in someone's arms," Robin repeated.

I turned to her in the office chair, my own arms crossed. Now I know why Robin told Keith that she could cover Steve's shift. "The reason why your dates have failed is because that little part of your brain is telling you not to move forward," Robin explained. "Are you telling me that I'm self-sabotaging my dating life?" I said.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," Robin said. She leaned to the side, so she rested against the counter again. "Why in the hell would I do that?" I said. "Because you don't want to think about how many times you could've been with Steve," Robin clarified, "I know the two of you like the back of my hand. You're extremely the same."

Robin stood up straight to continue speaking her point. "When the both of you make eye contact, it's like there's a conversation going on without the talking aspect. Whenever we have movie nights, there is no hesitation when it comes to holding each other's hands," Robin explained, "And I see the way you blush when Steve puts his arms around you. Same with him." She put her hands on her hips.

I could tell she was very proud of herself. I stood up from the desk to retrieve the notebook and pen that she threw. "Dustin sees it. Lucas, Mike, and Max all see it. You and Steve are just too blind to see it," Robin said. "You're delusional," I retorted.

"No. You're delusional for not using your smart-ass brain to see," Robin said. I stared at her for a few seconds before putting the book down. I pinched the area between my brows, realizing that Robin was right. "Okay, but I'm still going on the date tonight," I said.

Robin's mouth fell open at the sound of my statement. She followed me as I walked over to another shelf that had been messed up. "Did everything I just tell you not reach your ears?" Robin said. "No, it did," I replied, "I've already canceled once on Sam, I don't want to cancel last minute." Robin groaned, tilting her head back. "Why are you so nice to people?" she said.

I shrugged and went back to organized. She kept her eyes on for a split second before walking over to the front of the store to start on some more chores. For the rest of our shift, I couldn't stop thinking about what Robin said.

Sometimes I try to not let the things she says get to my head. But this one really stuck with me. Maybe she was right. Maybe I am self-sabotaging without even realizing it.

_________

(Later that night)

"And so, I told him I wasn't going to buy the truck because it was a waste of money," Sam shrugged, "I mean, you know how much I just love my cars. This guy was really trying to sell me something that would just fall apart." I smiled, nodding along. I should've stuck with what Robin said.

This date was going terribly. All Sam had been talking about was the cars he or his dad had. And all I had been thinking about was how I wish I could be at my apartment with my friends, primarily Steve. While in thought, I hadn't realized Sam had asked me what color he should paint his Corvette.

I cleared my throat and went back to eating my dinner. Sam waited impatiently for my response. "What about red?" I suggested. "Nah. I've already got two red cars," he replied. My lips pressed in a thin one as I nodded in reply. He grinned, taking a sip of his drink. Molly, our waitress, came over and asked how we were doing.

Sam quickly replied that we were doing wonderful. Molly glanced at me. "Great. The food is great, thank you," I said. She looked at me questionably before leaving me and my date to ourselves. Thankfully, Sam hadn't caught the glance. "So, what're you doing for spring break?" Sam asked.

He cut up his steak, pouring a ridiculous amount of sauce on the pieces. "Not much. I think my friends and I might stay at Lovers Lake for a few days," I answered. Sam nodded and then drenched the rest of his steak in the sauce. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Cape Cod, my grandparents have a nice house right on the shore," he answered.

The more the date continued, the more I realized that Sam was just like the other guys. I looked around the restaurant discreetly to find our waitress. "You should see the view," Sam quickly added. He went on and on about the house and, what do you know, his cars. This wasn't anything like our first date.

I finished my Y/F/M and set my fork on the side of the plate. "My father is having an opening ceremony for his work this Monday. I was wondering if you could be my plus one," Sam said, "There will be a great Jazz band. Wonderful food. And you'll get to meet some of my father's successful coworkers."

Molly came over with a pitcher of water, pouring some into my glass. I smiled at her and took a sip. "Um," I began but was interrupted. "Great. It is black-tie attire. You can wear that black dress you wore for your Speech class," Sam interjected. "Sam, I never said yes," I shook my head.

My date look at me, very confused. He pushed his plate to the side, giving me his full attention. "Why wouldn't you say yes? It will be a great party. You'll meet wonderful people, and-" Sam said. Molly walked over to the table, preventing Sam from speaking any further. "So sorry to interrupt," she said.

Our waitress pulled her blonde hair away from her face, her arms behind her back. "Y/N is it?" she asked me. I nodded in response. "I think we went to high school together," Molly said. She winked at me and covertly tilted her head to Sam. I soon took the hint when I noticed Sam's focus on downing the rest of his water.

"Oh, yes. We had Biology together, didn't we?" I said.

"We sure did. Mr. Harris' class," Molly smiled, pulling an act. I smiled in a thankful manner. She then turned to Sam, who looked up from his now empty plate. "Sir, if you'd like to go ahead and pay where you walked in, that would be great," Molly said. I lowered my head, acting like I was fixing the sleeve of my dress.

Sam glanced at Molly and then at me. Molly stood there, smiling. He sighed and stood up from the table. "Just over there, sir," the waitress pointed to the wooden podium. He never thanked her and walked to the front. I watched him as he pulled out his wallet. "Thank you," I said to Molly.

She smiled and set a hand on my shoulder. "Of course. I could tell that he wasn't being very gentlemen-like," Molly said. I thanked her one more time before meeting Sam at the front of the fancy restaurant. It was quiet on the way over to Sam's convertible. Sam hadn't even opened up the door like he did when he picked me up.

And it was quiet on the way to my apartment. I leaned my head against the back of the seat, watching as the trees and light posts flew past. Sam pulled up into the parking lot of my apartment complex. "Thank you," I said as he stopped the car. Sam nodded. He didn't say anything.

I took my purse from the spot in front of my feet. Sam pulled away as soon as I got out of his car. "Well, that went great," I said. I grabbed my keys from the pocket of my purse. The lights were still on when I unlocked the front door, same with the tv. "Your home!" Robin exclaimed, jumping up from the living room couch.

She grinned with her arms up in the air. I took off my shoes, setting them into the basket on the side. "How did you get in here?" I asked. "Extra key," Steve said, walking into the living room from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and shrugged off my jean jacket. The two of them sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn sitting on the coffee table.

"And I see you've also raided my pantry," I commented. I noticed that there were a few bags of chips sitting on the island. Steve put up a thumbs up. "How was the date?" he asked, tilting his head back so he could look at me. "It was definitely a date," I answered. Both of them look at me with furrowed brows.

It was nice to get changed out of my dress and into a comfy pair of pajamas. Steve and Robin were still watching their movie when I stepped out of my room. "So, another failed date?" Robin said. I nodded and grabbed a drink from the fridge. "What was it this time?" Steve asked.

Once I had my drink, I sat down on the couch. "All he had to talk about was what car he should drive next to school. Or trying to decide where he wants to go on vacation," I explained, "And don't get me started on how much he wants everyone to know how wealthy his family is."

Robin handed me the bowl of snacks. I smiled at her. "I take it that the date didn't go well then," Steve said. "Yeah. We had this really sweet waitress named Molly. She knew right away how I felt about Sam," I added. I noticed that the two of them were watching the Karate Kid without me.

"I can't believe you guys didn't wait for me. I thought we were friends," I said, handing the snack bowl back to Robin. "You were taking too long," Robin sighed. She leaned back on the couch and pulled the knitted blanket to her chin. I rolled my eyes. Steve took the blanket he was using and draped one end over me.

I thanked him with a smile and put my head on his shoulder. Steve reached for my hand, lacing my fingers with his. Robin glimpsed at me for a second. She winked and brought her focus back to the television.

_________

(The Next Day - A Shift at Family Video)

"What about this one?" Steve said, showing me another movie suggestion. It was Saturday, and the store was surprisingly slow today. I yawned and shrugged my shoulders. "The Goonies?" Steve suggested again. "Oh, Josh Brolin," I said.

I reached for the tape, but Steve pulled his hand away. "Oop, never mind," he said. He leaned over to put the movie back into the pile. "What? What's wrong with Josh Brolin?" I said, turning so I faced him.

He looked at me with raised brows like I had just asked something absurd. "Nothing is wrong with Josh Brolin. The guy is great. But if I have to see Robin make googley eyes at Kerri Green one more time, I'm banning The Goonies from our movie list," Steve said.

I nodded and told him to look through the stack of movies again. He sighed, bringing the pile over to the two of us. Steve leaned back with a hand at the top of the shelf. I looked through the stack, trying to find one that we haven't seen. "Okay. We've got...." my sentence trailed.

We had at least four or five other options, but I still wanted to watch The Goonies. I held up the movie and waved it around to try and convince him. "C'mon...." I said. Steve sighed. "Yeah, sure," Steve replied (GIF Above). I cheered to myself and walked over to behind the register.

Steve set the basket back onto the cart to put them away later. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. Steve looked at me as I logged into the computer. "What?" I said, not glancing away from the screen. "Nothing," he shrugged. I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

I finished logging the movie into our store's system. Steve followed me with his eyes as I walked around the register to grab my water bottle from the cart. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked. "Depends on what the question is," I responded, taking a sip of my water and leaning against the side of an aisle.

He smirked and stood beside me, his shoulder against mine. "Do you know what cingulomania means? Robin mentioned it yesterday," Steve spoke, "Sometimes I feel like she just makes up random words to confuse me. Which, if she is, it's working."

[Flashback to the day before. Third-Person View]

Robin and Steve walked through the front door of Y/N's apartment, using the key that Y/N had given them. Robin took her Converse off and dropped them into the basket beside the door. She immediately put the movie in and hopped onto the couch.

She ignored the pillows that fell onto the ground when she settled in. Steve grabbed some popcorn from the top shelf in the kitchen, putting it into the microwave. He glanced at the clock, trying to guess when Y/N would get home from work.

Despite Steve's growing feelings for Y/N, he was eager to hear how her date went. He didn't like to admit that part of him was happy she didn't have a successful date. Steve, too, suffered from cingulomania even though he had no idea what that word meant.

Robin had tried explaining on the way over, but Steve was so confused that she didn't even bother to continue. "You really don't know what cingulomania means?" Robin said. She looked over the top of the couch to see Steve. He shook his head and took out a large bowl from the kitchen island.

She rolled her eyes and turned the volume down on the television. Robin had been looking forward to watching a movie with her friends. She was also hoping Y/N would get home soon so they could finish it together.

"How come I've never heard of it?" Steve said, pouring the snack into a bowl. "Because you're an idiot," Robin corrected. "Wow, how kind of you," Steve remarked. He joined his best friend in the living room. Robin took the bowl from him, shoving the popcorn into her mouth.

Steve picked up the pillows that fell, resting them on the recliner beside the television. He took a blanket from the basket and sat back down. "To put it in simpler terms for your small-minded brain," Robin tapped his head. Steve brought his hands up and fixed his hair. "It basically means that you want to be in her arms, or you want her to be in your arms," Robin said.

Now, Steve was even more confused about how Robin could possibly know about his feelings. "You're not very good at hiding it," Robin said. "Well, I must be. Because Y/N hasn't said a thing," Steve replied, eating the popcorn. She never responded to his reply. Instead, she looked at him with raised brows.

She took the bowl from him and put it on the coffee table. Robin turned down the volume, trying to get her friend's attention. "Steve, you need to make a move or something because it's starting to get exhausting watching you two love each other from afar," Robin said.

Steve sighed and looked back at the movie, pulling the blanket so it covered his arms. "I'll do it," he claimed. "When? Because I talked to Y/N today, and - by the way, you two are creepily right for each other," Robin said, changing the subject mid-sentence. Steve thought to himself, rethinking everything he's done for Y/N and what he's said.

Robin set a hand on his shoulder. "You know her. And you should know that she'll like you no matter what," Robin said, "Plus if it works out for you and Y/N. I could totally add Matchmaker to my resume." Steve looked at her, confused. Robin disregarded Steve's expression and leaned back with a smile on her face.

[Present Day. Y/N's Point of View]

I looked up from my water bottle, remembering what Robin said to me yesterday. 'Cingulomania. It means the desire to be held in someone's arms,' Robin's words popped into my head. "I don't know. What does it mean?" I question, going along.

Steve crossed his arms, playing with the loose thread from his green vest. "The desire to be held in someone's arms," he responded. "Oh," I said, nodding. He nodded as well. "I do think Robin mentioned it to be, then," I said. Steve glanced at me.

"Robin made a comment or two about my dating life. And, how there is a possibility that I am self-sabotaging these dates without realizing it," I answered, "Which I don't think is possible because I've had fun....at least I think I've had fun."

He nodded as I spoke. I felt his hand brush mine. "So, then Robs said the word 'Cingulomania,' to which she followed with, 'You have the perfect person in your life, and you just can't see it'," I paused for a brief moment but was cut short when Steve spoke.

"Who's the guy?"

Steve fixed his position, his shoulder against the wooden side of the shelf. His arms laid at his sides rather than crossed over his chest. "You," I said, "Which I thought was completely wrong, but then I thought about how much I want to be with you at all times and not with those stupid dates who, clearly, have no interest in me."

"So, yes, maybe I suffer from whatever the wor-"

"Cingulomania."

"Yes, that," I pointed at him, "And, so what if sometimes I want to hold your hand or feel what's like to be in your arms. Or, I don't know."

Steve brought a hand out and lowered my arms. I guess I had taken after Robin by waving my hands around when speaking. "I think you're hanging out with Robin too much because you almost poked my eye," Steve joked. I chuckled, feeling my cheeks turn to a light shade of pink.

He laced his hand with mine and kissed the top of my hand. "You don't have another date soon, right?" Steve said. "Nope," I shook my head while speaking. He smirked, leaning his head down to kiss me.

He pulled me closer by the waist, my grip on my water bottle slipping. Steve caught it before it fell on my foot. I felt him smirk against my lips and set the water bottle on the rickety cart behind me. Steve pulled away first, the smile on his freckled face never leaving.

"I don't think I suffer from cingulomania anymore," I said. "Good, that's good," he nodded, leaning down to kiss me again.

Taglist: @b-ritney @ramaalkayyali @midnightstar-90 @nix-rose

#stranger things #stranger things season one #stranger things season two #stranger things season three #stranger things season four #steve harrington #steve harrington x-readers #steve harrington x-reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagines

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kurogxrix · 5 months

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me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

#bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #joel miller x reader #writing #fan fiction #fanfic #authors of tumblr #kurogxrix talks

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itshelia · 4 months

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Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

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l0velysmut · 1 month

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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

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l0caltiredgirl · 4 months

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when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

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moonxnite · 4 months

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y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

18K notes · View notes

natti-ice · 1 month

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18+ mdni

Me: “fuck, I need his cock”

Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*

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shelbybyr · 7 months

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When you run out of fics to read

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bethsvrse · 1 month

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pov: I find a good smut fic but it includes a daddy kink

#I hate daddy kinks sm #I wanna start a petition to ban daddy kinks #joel miller x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #sirius black x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #jim hopper x reader #derek hale x reader #steve rogers x reader #remus lupin x reader #steve harrington x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader

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sleepyangelkami · 28 days

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smut's fun. have you ever read soul crushing, heart aching, head throbbing comfort that makes your eyes burn out of your head to the point where you just have to crawl into a ball because your inner child feels so safe? haha... yeah smuts fun.

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luveline · 2 months

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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.

“I wanna see Max.”

“She has to be here somewhere.”

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

Steve frowns at you worriedly.

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.

“Is it awful?” you ask.

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.

“Dustin. He’s outside.”

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?”

“Like you like him.”

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.

“Looks like something. Are you dating?”

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”

“He was touching you a lot.”

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.

Oh, boy, you think.

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”

“Steve.”

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.

“What?” he asks.

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”

“I sounded weird?”

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.

“You were in the way of the light.”

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.

“It’s good.”

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.”

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”

“I thought…” And of course he did.

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.

“Yeah.”

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.

“I like you too!” he says loudly.

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.

“You okay?” he asks tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”

You nod vehemently.

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.”

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.

“You can be my parasol.”

“Your what?”

“It’s a sun umbrella.”

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.

“No… I’m thinking.”

“Nothing good ever comes of that.”

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.

“It’s a question.”

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke.

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 8 months

Text

Promises between Roommates

Full Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary: You promised your best friends, Robin Buckley and Walter Miller, that you wouldn't fall for one of your roommates, but that promise has since been broken. You and Steve Harrington had been together for a few months and have surprisingly kept it a secret. However, as things progress, the two debate on confessing the truth to their roommates.

Notes:

Y/N/N - Your Nick Name

Walter is your other roommate!

Briefly based on New Girl, because why not?

Warnings:

Language

Sexual Innuendos

Slight smut (maybe??)

Steve Harrington x-reader

"Yellow or blue?" Robin held up each sweater. "Green," Y/N answered, not taking her attention away from her textbook. Robin's shoulders dropped. "You're not even looking," she said. Her arms lowered, still holding both sweaters. Y/N sighed and set her book to the side.

Robin thanked her friend and put the two sweaters beside her. She put each one in front of her. "Blue. It matches your eyes," Y/N said. "See, that's all I needed," Robin replied. She walked into her room to get changed, keeping the door open to still talk to her friend. "What're you even changing for?" Y/N shouted.

Robin stepped out of her room and untucked her hair from the collar. "I've got that band event this weekend," she answered, "And I'm trying to see which outfit I like best." Robin walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

She took out a bag of chips and joined her friend on the couch. Robin reached for the TV remote. "So, I was thinking," she shoved a handful of chips into her mouth, "We could stop by Hawkins High to watch them play this weekend." She wiped her hands on a napkin, gesturing the bag to Y/N.

The two of them shared the bag of chips. "Sounds like fun," Y/N said. "Cool. I'll ask the guys if they want to come," Robin put the bag on the coffee table. She turned on the TV to see if her favorite show was on, which was a stupid reality show.

"How can you watch this?" Y/N gestured to the screen. "This show is great. It's got romance, violence, and the occasional comedic bit," Robin explained, waving her hands around. Y/N ducked so Robin couldn't hit her in the face. "You forgot the hot babes part," Y/N winked.

This time, Robin hit Y/N in the face. "Hey! Let let me watch this girl fight," Walter said, opening the door to their apartment. Y/N pushed Robin's arm away from her face, ignoring the look on Robin's face. "Jar," Steve said, pointing to the glass jar on the shelf.

Walter looked at Steve, then to Robin and Y/N. "Two dollars this time," Y/N said. Walter rolled his eyes and dug his wallet out of his jean jacket. "Here. Two Washingtons," Walter said. "Add another 'Washington', big boy," Steve walked past Walter, patting him on the shoulder. Walter groaned.

Steve chuckled to himself and joined the girls on the couch. Instinctively, Steve put his arm over the back of the couch, using it as an excuse to sit closer to Y/N. Walter rolled his eyes and sat down on the recliner beside the leather sofa. "Oh, hot g-" Walter began. "No! Don't ruin this show for me," Robin said, preventing him from speaking.

Y/N snickered at Walter's expression. He yanked the blanket from the ground, grunting when the fleece got stuck at the edge of the recliner's leg rest. "Oh! I know that chick!" Walter pointed. "When're you going to stop calling girls 'chicks'?" Steve asked.

He quirked a brow when Walter struggled to think of an answer. Walter closed his mouth when he didn't speak. Y/N yawned, not hesitating to put her head on Steve's shoulder. He smiled to himself at her resting close to him.

Steve looked around the living room before discreetly kissing the top of Y/N's head. Y/N smiled when she felt Steve linger for a few seconds before leaning back with his arms still over the couch. The two of them had been secretly dating for about four months.

They were proud of themselves for keeping their relationship at a down low. However, sometimes it felt like they were living in hell because they couldn't display their affection out in the open. It was especially hell when their roommates would try to set them up on dates.

And sometimes, they'd go on those dates and would purposefully ruin them with comments or random stories. Y/N was hoping that Robin wouldn't notice anything since she was the one that created the rule: No dating roommates.

Whoever broke that rule wasn't something that Y/N and Steve thought of. Although, if someone was curious, it was both of them that broke the promise. As cliche as it sounds. There was a party, and some alcohol was involved, leading to a shared kiss and a night between Y/N and Steve.

Then that caused a few more excuses for hanging out individually, heading to one another rooms after everyone fell asleep, and any reason to touch each other. The more they did it, the more they became professionals.

"Okay, so Shelly fell in love with Ryan, but Ryan has a thing for Polly, Shelly's sister," Walter said.

He pointed at the TV, gesturing to each person. Robin nodded in response as she finished up the bag of chips from earlier. "Huh," Walter said, crossing his arms in thought. "I don't blame Shelly for falling for Ryan. Ryan is a hunk," Walter said.

They all turned to Walter as he looked at the reality show. Robin's mouth fell open. "What?" Walter said, "Shit. Is that another dollar?" She shook her head to prevent herself from laughing. "Nope. That's a dollar out of the douche jar," she said.

Robin reached over and took out a dollar from the jar. She throws it to Walter. He caught it with ease, stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. "Do you have something you'd like to tells us, Walt?" Y/N said, her head still on Steve's shoulder. "What? No," Walter shook his head.

___________

(Later That Night)

Y/N sat beside Steve, her head lying on his chest as he ran a hand along her arm. They stared up at the ceiling with the slight hum from Steve's radio. It was about twelve-thirty in the morning, and Y/N had just snuck into Steve's room after Walter and Robin fell asleep.

This had become a normal occurance between the two of them. They had ran their plan at telling their friends over and over again, but there always seemed to be a flaw in their plans. It mainly started with Steve explaining to Walter that he found a girl and then confessing that it was Y/N.

Then, Y/N would do the same thing, telling Robin that she found someone, stating that it was Steve. It didn't seem like the worst idea, but they'd always think of something wrong. "What if we did, like, an extravagant proposal thing?" Steve suggested. Y/N furrowed her brows.

She sat up with her arms propping herself up. Steve smirked as she practically leaned over him. "How would that work? I mean, if you want something extravagant, we could just go up to them and say: Hey, we're dating. And we're going to stay dating, no matter what," I said.

He reached up and kissed Y/N deeply, putting his arms around her to bring her to his lap. "I don't hate the sound of that," Steve said. Y/N chuckled, her legs wrapped around his waist. Steve's smile grew at the sound of Y/N's laugh. He gazed at his girlfriend in admiration.

"I don't know how much I've expressed this, but it's literal hell when I can't kiss you or touch you in any way in public," Steve said. "You've mentioned it a few times," Y/N smirked. Steve leaned forward, kissing her intently.

She smiled into the kiss and couldn't help but gasp in surprise when Steve hovered over her. "I care about you so much," Steve said, breaking in between words to kiss her. She felt goosebumps rise when Steve's hands wandered. Y/N set a hand on Steve's when he went to undo the buttons of her cardigan.

He stopped kissing her, looking Y/N in the eyes. "They're in the rooms next door if you forgot," Y/N said. "I'll be quiet," he claimed, undoing the bottom button of the knitted cardigan. "Steve Harrington, you're never quiet," Y/N spoke, her voice in a partial whisper.

Steve didn't even try to keep himself from smiling, just enjoying the moment he was having. "I'll be quiet this time," Steve insisted. Y/N rolled her eyes, swiftly taking her cardigan off despite the buttons still secured together. "First one to make a noise loses," Steve said. "Okay, that's not fair," Y/N replied, shivering when Steve attacked her neck with kisses.

__________

(The Next Day)

Robin had been asking Y/N who the new guy was all morning. Y/N had told her that she had been on a date a few times, which was obviously Steve. Robin sat on Y/N's bed, flipping through a magazine that she had stolen from Y/N. "So, when can we meet him?" Robin asked.

Y/N shook her head and looked back at Robin, turning around in her desk chair. "I'm not telling you," Y/N said. She stood up from the chair to grab a sweatshirt. Steve had left a few marks on Y/N's neck. She was trying to cover it up a little bit because she knew Walter would make some comment.

"Why not? From what you've said, he sounds attractive. For you, not for me," Robin said. Y/N tilted her head at Robin's statement. Oh, if Robin only knew that she just blindly called Steve attractive, she'd barf. "We're just not at the level yet," Y/N answered.

Which wasn't a total lie. Steve and Y/N had planned on telling their roommates that day but were still hesitant about the whole thing. "Okay, but when you do. Walter, Steve, and I better be the first people you introduce," Robin said, "I seem to have an accurate red flag radar."

Robin went back to reading the magazine, flipping the corner on some pages to save her spot. "Actually, do Walter and Steve even know that you've started to date someone?" Robin looked up from the page. Y/N shook her head and sat back down at her desk. "Steve does. And, I tend to keep Walter out of the blue," she said, "You know how he gets when I talk about my love life."

Robin chuckled to herself, nodding alone. Walter was infamous for making any sex joke he could. This is why Robin, Steve, and Y/N had established the 'douche jar'. If he said anything remotely close to sex or something shitty, he had to put in any amount of money his friends told him to.

It has become a running joke between them. Sometimes, it felt like Walter was just doing it so he could say a joke that had been marinating in his head. "Speaking of Walter, I feel like we need to get a second douche jar. The first one is starting to overfill," Robin commented. Y/N nodded as she chuckled.

Steve walked over to Y/N's bedroom and lightly knocked on the doorframe. Y/N broke her focus from her book to look at him. She smiled at the sight of his grin. "Robs, can I talk to Y/N for a minute?" he asked. "Sure thing," Robin replied. She stood up from the bed, patting Steve's shoulder as she left the room.

Steve closed the door and sat down on Y/N's bed. "What's up, Steve?" Y/N asked. Steve leaned forward and dragged her to him as she sat on the office chair. "Hi," he said, his face close to hers. "Hi," Y/N repeated. Steve kissed her lips before leaning back, his hands still sitting on her knees.

"Did you just come in here to kiss me, or did you need something?" Y/N asked. Steve sighed and lightly pushed Y/N back to the desk. Y/N rolled her eyes as the back of the chair hit the edge of the desk. She joined Steve on the bed. "So, I-" he stopped himself when he saw the poorly covered hickies.

He ran a hand over the side of Y/N's neck. Y/N grabbed his wrist, lowering his arm so she could hold his hand. "If you're here to make a horrible pickup line, I'm gonna have to ask you to add to the jar," Y/N said, not bothering to cover up her smirk.

_______

(Later That Day)

It was Walter's turn to make dinner, but Robin insisted that she help him, given his inability to keep the kitchen together. Y/N sat comfortably in the living room, watching TV and listening to her friends argue.

"Are you two done?" Y/N looked over the back of the couch, "Because I feel like all I'm hearing is Robin spewing things about Walter's poor measurement skills. And Walter stating how controllable Robin is."

Walter threw a dish towel at Y/N, hitting her on the back of the head. "Ow, that hurt so much," Y/N joked, eating a laugh from Robin. Steve walked into the apartment after finishing up a long shift from work. He winked at Y/N as he spotted her sitting on the couch.

He hated not being able to kiss her on the forehead after coming home. It was something he looked forward to when Robin or Walter weren't home. Y/N got up from the couch to greet Steve at the door. She quickly kissed him on the cheek, thanking the wall for partially blocking them.

Steve leaned in for another kiss but was rudely interrupted when Walter peeked his head over the wall. "Stevo, dude! How was work?" he cheered, his arms going out. Steve squeezed Y/N's shoulder before walking into the kitchen. Y/N followed pursuit, wiping away the shade of pink that appeared on her cheeks.

"Good," Steve answered. He set his wallet and keys on the counter. Robin took Walter by the shoulder and pushed him towards the sink, pointing at the dirty dishes. "I thought Walter was making dinner," Steve said. "He's supposed to, but not surprisingly, Robin stepped in to help," Y/N responded, joining his side.

A few more minutes passed, and dinner was finally ready. The four of them ate in the living room despite there being a full dining table. As usual, Steve sat in the middle of Y/N and Robin while Walter was in his favorite chair in the house.

Y/N finished up her meal and grabbed everyone's plates to put them into the dishwasher. Steve got up to help her. "Hey," Steve set a hand on her waist.

"You ready?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder to find Walter talking about some girl he met at the store today. Y/N nodded and dropped the sponge. After cleaning the kitchen, Steve and Y/N walked back over to the leather sofa. Robin had turned on the reality show she loved.

Walter had grown to like it and even asked her to turn it on. Steve nudged Y/N's shoulder, letting her know that he would initiate the conversation. "So, Y/N, how's that guy you're seeing?" Steve asked, taking a sip of his drink to hide his smile. Walter's head swiveled to Y/N at the sound of Steve's statement.

"He's good. We're doing great," she answered, "I'm actually seeing him tonight." Steve nodded, ignoring Walter's expression. Robin sat to the left of Y/N with a smile on her face. "What's his name?" Walter asked, leaning forwards. He rested his chin on his hands.

He grinned at her, trying to pry more information out of Y/N. "Steve," Y/N answered. Walter's face contorted in confusion, but Robin immediately connected the dots. She sat upright to face Steve and Y/N, who sat beside her. Walter glanced between the three, slowly understanding why Robin had acted like that.

"Holy shit. You two are dating?" Walter said. He pointed to Y/N and Steve. He began laughing uncontrollably, mainly laughing at the sight of Robin. "You're telling me that I called Steve attractive earlier?" she said. Her face suddenly changed to a look of disgust. She covered her mouth. "I'm gonna puke," she said.

"Okay! I'm not that bad-looking," Steve replied, putting his hands up in the air. Robin stood up from the couch with her hands on her hips. "You two promised. You promised that you wouldn't date!" Robin exclaimed. "Well, in their defense, I did date Cece for a bit until she moved out last month," Walter said.

Robin whipped her head to Walter, even more, bewildered than a second ago. "Were you the reason why she moved out?" she said. "Maybe, maybe not," Walter shrugged. He leaned back with his hands resting behind his head. "More on that later," Robin said. She pointed a finger at him before turning back to Y/N and Steve.

The longer she looked at them, the more she realized how much Y/N cared for Steve. Robin remembered how happy Y/N looked when she talked about Steve. And she remembered how happy Steve looked when he spoke to Y/N or helped her out. Robin suddenly felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

"Uh oh. What's that expression on your face? I don't like it," Y/N said, grimacing at the look on her friend's face. Robin let out a heavy sigh and pinched the area between her brows. She sat back down, putting a hand on Y/N's knee. "I'm okay with it," she said.

Both Y/N and Steve were surprised by the sudden response. They didn't think they'd ever get that type of reaction. Especially since the three of them have known one another since high school. But! If we're being honest, Y/N and Steve have always had feelings for one another.

It just took living with each other to realize how much they cared for one another. "You two seem grossly cute. And no matter how much it freaks me out, I can see how happy you make each other," Robin expressed. "Good. Because I was gonna date her regardless of what you said," Steve said. He put an arm around Y/N's shoulders, bringing her to his chest.

Taglist: @ramaalkayyali @b-ritney @midnightstar-90 @nix-rose

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