STEVE HARRINGTON
of the babysitter's club

" Grocery shopping is fun with you. "

SYNOPSIS: You've been in a relationship with Steve for about three years, since your senior year of high school. Fighting monsters, tackling alternate dimensions with supernatural beings was no easy weight on your relationship, but you two pushed through it and came out stronger.

Now, here you are, grocery shopping with your boyfriend (who once swung a nailed bat against demogorgons), and now needed to be dragged away from the Boppers he so desperately needed.

TYPE: (fem!reader)
—established relationship
—very domestic & adorable
—bf steve
—lots of teasing and flirting
—"parents" of the party
—fluffy & cuteness overload

WORD COUNT: 1860

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"We need these noodles for dinner tonight, can you grab that box?"

Steve was pushing the cart for you, following his girlfriend around like a lost puppy was very in character for Harrington. While he may have been the King of Hawkins High, he was not the king of the grocery store. That was a different territory.

He followed you anywhere and everywhere in here. Well, if he was being honest, he would follow you anywhere outside the grocery store, too.

"Any of them? Or can I pick the one with the different colors?" Steve asked, curious and sarcastic at the same time was his forte.

"The regular ones, honey." You muttered, eyes still down and trained on your little notepad that held your list. "But if you really want the colored ones, I can make that work."

Steve chuckled at your subtle lace of sarcasm that peeked through your focus. Your sense of wit and humor was one of the many reasons he fell for you in Sophomore year.

"Taking this pretty seriously, huh?" Steve smirked, giving you those mischievous chocolate brown eyes of his. "With your little notepad and pen."

You may be overly organized sometimes, but lists just help you better. And when you two were trying to restock your pantry of your shared home you both newly rented, you were gonna make damn sure that house would have food for you both.

So yes, you took it seriously.

"Is that a problem?" You smirked up at him, teasing yet daring him to say yes.

Steve shook his head with a grin, less mischief in his eyes—more flirtatious. "Not at all. I think it's adorable. Hot, even."

He took a step closer to you, draping his arm around your waist naturally to pull you into him—as if it were second nature, an instinctual habit built over the last few years of being together.

He pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips—his own lips curled in a grin the entire time.

You felt your body begin to melt into his kiss, fighting the arch into his frame and allow him to hold you longer.

But it was a good thing you pulled away when you did, because when you looked into his eyes again, you knew he would've let the entire grocery store see him attempt to start a full on makeout session right here in aisle number 6.

"You...are being bad." You smirked, a teasing glint in your eyes that thrilled your boyfriend still—even three and a half years later.

"But seriously, we need to get this done." You snapped back into focus, "Or we won't have any of your favorite dinners I make."

"It's hot when you take charge." Steve surrendered, his hand still lingering on your lower waist—reluctantly pulling away from your touch.

With a sly grin, your boyfriend did as he was told, and kneeled slightly to grab the box you pointed at to toss it in the cart.

You two continued like this through the store, your boyfriend clinging to you like a guide in a new world. He always had to be touching you, not always in a possessive way, but more in an anchoring way.

After everything the two of you have been through, dealing with far too many near death experiences and separations, Steve's love language was most definitely physical touch.

So he always had to be close to you, with some sort of touch. And you understood, because you were the exact same way.

So his arm was always lingering around your waist, or holding your hand, or his chin would somehow make its way to rest in the crook of your shoulder while you examined a shelf for the item you needed.

His hair tickled your cheek as he leaned his chin on your shoulder, the weight and warmth of his body behind you was steadying—like home.

His eyes followed your line of sight as you looked. "Is it that?" He pointed to an item nowhere near what you needed. "Or that?"

"No, honey." You smiled, offering your notepad to give context. "I need Doritos."

Steve squinted to get a better look, needing glasses was becoming more obvious with every year.

He moved from his spot nestled in the crook of your shoulder to do some searching with you, scanning the aisle as well.

"I don't see that flavor though, baby." He admitted defeat with a stubborn stance, his hands on his hips in that motherly way he took with the teens. "But we never get those anyways, I didn't think you liked those chips."

"Those are Dustin and Mike's favorite." You shrugged, "And those Cheerios are Will's. And those waffles are El's."

Steve seemed confused at first before his face softened layers deep. You suddenly blushed at the sight of his passionate look.

"I dunno, I thought it might be nice to have some snacks in the house that the kids—I mean, the teens—like." You tried to brush it off like it was no big deal. "So that, in case they wanna come over, they have things to eat that they like."

Steve smiled softly, his eyes seeming to melt into yours. His heart beat for you alone, but to have it soar for you too was a feeling like no other.

"Baby." He chuckled, walking closer to you until he was so close he could see your bashfulness. "You are my absolute favorite person ever."

You smiled, "I would hope so. We live together."

"I am so in love with you. L/N." He shook his head as if in disbelief that he had you in his life—a woman so caring and thoughtful and to stick with him through the shit they've been through is amazing.

"I'm in love with you, Harrington."

"Thank God." Your boyfriend sighed, his arm slinking around your waist as you continued on after finding the chips. "Because I was planning to marry you, and love really sweetens the deal."

You chuckled with a soft roll of your eyes, leaning your head into his arm as he held you and walked. "We already act married. I think we're all set on that, babe."

They continued their shopping, with Steve offering things up to be chosen to be put in the cart—his hand never leaving yours or your shoulder or waist.

They had finally reached the final item on their list, and Steve was ready to put it in the cart.

But as he did so, something caught his eye on the other side of the aisle.

"Boppers!"

Your boyfriend leapt for his favorite candy on the shelf, never straying far from your side as he gawked at the many boxes.

You cringed, those candies were not your favorite, but they were your boyfriend's.

"Honey, can I get a box? We need a box." Steve rambled, grabbing two, "You know what, make it two boxes."

You chuckled, and noticed that while Steve was excited and in a hurry to grab a couple boxes, he waited.

He didn't put it in the cart yet, waiting for your permission with his chocolate puppy eyes.

"Sure, babe." You surrendered, blushing slightly at his intense eye contact.

After all the shopping was finally done, Steve insisted on doing all the lifting during checkout.

One by one, he lifted every item with ease—and you tried your hardest not to stare too hard at his biceps that peeked through the long sleeve he wore.

But hell, you were allowed to stare. You earned that right.

You watched as your boyfriend went to pay, making small talk with the cashier until she asked a specific question.

"Do you or your wife have any stamps you'd like to redeem for discounts or rewards?" She asked, her voice almost robotic as she recited what she surely said a million times a day.

Steve didn't miss a beat, and answered absentmindedly.

"My wife has a few stamps," He muttered, focusing on getting exact change from his wallet. "Wanna use any stamps, baby?"

You blushed profusely, a sense of pride beamed through your smile as you heard your boyfriend refer to you as his wife so casually—so naturally.

You turned to the cashier, "I won't use any today, thanks. I'm saving them."

The cashier nodded once before accepting Steve's cash to pay, and once all was said and done, you both left with a cart full of groceries and the receipt.

As Steve pushed the cart through the sliding front doors into the parking lot, you couldn't help but stare at his side profile.

His chestnut hair was as unruly as ever, wonderfully swooped and taken care of. The moles on his neck guided your eyes all over his face, his wonderfully kissable face—

"You're starin' babe."

You didn't miss a beat either.

"Wife, huh?" You smirked, reaching to loop your arm through his as he pushed the cart through the parking lot lane.

Steve seemed to blush a little bit himself, "Well, yeah. You're gonna be my wife someday soon, but we damn well already act like we're married, pretty much."

He said it like it was obvious, and you beamed with pride.

He really was gonna marry you. And you were ecstatic to be reminded.

"Damn right." You said, jumping up to press a kiss to your boyfriend's cheek.

When you approached the car, you both loaded it together—eye contact was heavy between the two of you, flirting with your eyes.

You two were too busy flirting with each other to notice that the walkie talkie that Dustin insisted Steve keep in the car, was beeping constantly.

Dustin was trying to reach them.

Hawkins never seemed to settle, no matter how badly you and Steve both wanted to settle down with each other.

"Harringtons! Code red, I repeat, code red!"

.
.

—Author's Note:

oh hello there...long time, no see...

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
WAS S5, MY JAW IS STILL DROPPED.

all i know is my mans Steve Harrington
is looking as good as ever :))
he still got my heart after all these years

_

if you'd like to request more
STEVE HARRINGTON imagines
from me, just send me your ideas & i'd love to write them for you!

i NEED more ST5 imagine requests!

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PUBLISHED
December 28, 2025
at 7:15 AM.