steve harrington imagines

lover

Soft music floated through the air as your friends laughed at something Robin had said, even though she hadn't meant it to be funny. Most of the older group had had at least a little bit to drink, which was likely what spurred the reaction. Your own drink was discarded on the table next to the couch where you sat, mostly untouched. You'd never been a fan of beer, and now that it was warm from sitting out, there was no way in hell you'd finish it.

The group of younger kids were arguing over something you couldn't even begin to understand, so you tuned them out. Quite honestly, you were just happy to be in the presence of your friends. You didn't get very many moments where everyone was happy, healthy, and accounted for, so you'd savor them any chance you got. And, this was the first time you and Steve had hosted everyone at your new place, and it was much more work than you had anticipated; you were absolutely wiped out.

Motion from across the room caught your eye as your boyfriend re-emerged from the hallway. Your lips turned up into a lovesick grin as you locked eyes, motioning for him to come closer. Steve's face lit up in the same way, quickly obliging your request and crossing the room after picking up his own bottle of beer. He tiptoed around your friends sitting on the floor, careful to avoid spilling his drink on any of them.

In seconds, his voice was grumbling from above you, "Move it, Henderson." Before Dustin could even react, he was shoving his younger friend out of the way to sit next to you on the couch. The cushions dipped slightly with his weight as his arm came up to stretch over the back of your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as best he could. His nose pressed against the side of your head first, followed by his lips in a soft kiss, "You okay, baby?"

You let out what could only be called a giggle as you leaned into Steve's touch, "Be nice to Dustin, Steve."

"Thanks, y/n," Dustin huffed from the other side of the couch.

Steve scoffed playfully, the palm of his hand running over your shoulder gently, "He's fine. Just 'cause he has less bones or whatever doesn't mean he's fragile."

"Hey!"

"Steve!" you scolded, though not very convincingly, as you giggled again behind your hand. You shook your head as you tilted it back to get a better look at your boyfriend, only to find him already staring at you, the corners of his lips already curving up into a smile. Reaching one hand up, you brushed back a stray lock of his beautiful hair, "You're terrible."

"Sometimes," Steve laughed in agreement, "He knows I don't mean it. That's what big brothers are for anyway."

You couldn't help the way your heart squeezed in your chest, moving your hand to trace over the smattering of freckles on his cheek. He really was their big brother, and he was the absolute best at it, "Mm, suppose you're right."

"Usually am."

"Whatever you say, bub."

It was quiet for a few seconds between the two of you as you stared at each other with those same soft smiles. No matter how many times you looked at Steve, you fell even harder for him. Noticed all of the little things about him. The soft glow emitting from the string of what were admittedly Christmas lights lit him in just the perfect way, and he looked so soft and ethereal sitting next you. There were times you could hardly believe he was yours, and this was one of them.

You weren't stupid — you knew just how many people would love to be in your shoes, and though you trusted Steve implicitly, it was sometimes  hard to believe that it was you. That it was you and him against the world. But the little moments when everything else faded away — those made it all worth it, even if you might question your reality a bit.