steve harrington | imagines

| valentines |

"happy valentines!" the teen exclaimed, a small smile on his face as he held out a bouquet of a dozen red roses in one hand and a cute beige cuddly teddy bear in the other.

when you had called your boyfriend to tell him your parents had left the house empty to leave for an impromptu valentines dinner date, you didn't know he would come over bearing gifts. you smiled at his thoughtfulness, of course he'd bring gifts.

"steve, you didn't have to-" you began, but he quickly cut you off by shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand with the hand holding the bear.

"don't give me that, it's valentines. i don't think this is enough actually." he said, muttering the last comment under his breath as he furrows his brows and looks at the bouquet and teddy bear. you were amused at the sight, and you were more than happy with the flowers and teddy.

you allowed him inside when the regular february breeze picked up and began to make it's way into your warm and cozy home.

steve watched as you placed the bouquet of flowers into a vase, something he had insisted he would do for you but being shot down every time by your assurance that you could do that simple task.

as he watched you, he couldn't help but think he didn't get you enough. for the entirety of your relationship, you had made him feel more loved and wanted than he had in his entire life and all he gave you in return was a basic bouquet of flowers and a boring old stuffed animal? god, how predictable.

he hadn't even realised you were talking to him until you plopped down beside him on your couch, placing a hand on his knee that was bobbing up and down as he thought.

"steve? you okay?" you asked, moving your hand to his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

he looked at you and just the mere sight of you brought a smile to his face, your close proximity and physical touch on his shoulder making his smile grow. he nodded at your question.

"i'm great." he replied, giving your thigh a squeeze like how you did his shoulder. he wasn't lying, he was feeling great. he was in his girlfriends home, alone, on valentine's day, what wasn't to love?

you smiled at his response, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before sighing and leaning back into your couch. your hand moved upwards to play with the hair just above the nape of steve's neck.

"what do you wanna do for dinner? i would offer to cook a huge, romantic valentine's day meal but i really, really can't be bothered." you said with a slight chuckle.

steve followed your movements, also leaning back into your couch. he moved around until he was facing you perfectly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face and tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering by your cheek after he did so.

"we could get takeout? i can go get it." he suggested, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he spoke.

you thought for a second and nodded, not caring if it wasn't the most romantic dinner on the planet.

steve smiled and sat forward with a slight groan. this young man acts like a goddamn middle aged father with aching bones, it was ridiculous.

"i'll get your usual, won't be long." he told you, kissing your forehead before grabbing his car keys from where he sat them on the table and walked out of your house.