wildsupernova

[wildsupernova]

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

[wildsupernova]

women in STEM (shitty posture, tired all the time, eyebags, miserable)

[wildsupernova]

happy touch starved emotionally deprived autumn to all who celebrate. Yay

[wildsupernova]

does anyone want to admit they have a crush on me? nothing will come of it but i'd like to know for validation purpose

[wildsupernova]

[wildsupernova]

summer nights

part 2 of “summer, sun, and a smoking engine”.

summary: after steve came to your rescue when your car broke down, he offers to take you out to dinner and show you around hawkins. you decide to take a chance, in the hope it could lead to something more.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: no use of y/n, fluff and awkward conversation i guess?

a/n: i know it’s been a while since i posted anything (like over a month but we’re gonna ignore that) but i’ve been super busy working practically every day and i have been insanely exhausted but i had a burst of inspiration the other night and finally got something ready to be posted. this is part two to my last little fic so if you haven’t read that and want the context, i’ll have it linked below. there may be a part 3 to this if i can get the motivation to do it so be on the lookout for that as well. like, comment, reblog (any little bit helps) and i hope you enjoy! :)

part 1 | masterlist | prompts list

“You mean to tell me you’re going on a date with a guy you just met? You? The girl who wouldn’t even go on a date with the guy she had a crush on since 8th grade?”

“It’s not a date.” You wrung out the rest of the water in your hair into the scratchy motel towel, phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. Your best friend scoffed on the other end of the phone, prompting you to roll your eyes. “He’s just showing me around the city.”

“Yeah, okay. You don’t just show someone around the city at 7:00 pm when they’ll only be sticking around until morning.”

“Okay, so maybe it's a date.” Your friend chuckled on the other line, and you shifted the phone to your other shoulder while you searched through your bags to find something to wear. “It’s one date, not like it’ll go anywhere. I mean, when am I ever gonna be back in Hawkins, Indiana besides when I’m driving through to visit you?”

“You don’t have to be in the city to date someone, you know.” You could hear her rustling along on the other side, the sound of a duvet crinkling as if she were rolling over in her bed. “Long distance is a thing.”

“Yeah, I tried that, remember? He cheated on me within a week of being gone.” You pulled a dress from out of one of your bags, holding it up to your body as you looked in the cloudy motel mirror. 

“At least give it a thought. You always say that love will come along at the right time, maybe this is it.” You stayed silent for a moment, soaking in her advice. It was true, you did say that it was only a matter of time, but it was more a self soothing mantra to make you feel better about your shitty dating life. You never really meant it as anything more than that.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you when I’m back on the road tomorrow morning.”

“You better call with good news, okay?” You could hear her laugh on the other end of the line when you let out a groan. “Have fun, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

You put the phone back down on the hook with a click, staring down at the mess of clothes now thrown across the small motel bed. Every combination you’d held to your body in the mirror just hadn’t looked right, making you run your hand through your still damp hair. Never once had you worried this much about what to wear, especially for some guy. Now here you were, worried about if you were dressing too casual or too fancy or too colorful. You took in a deep breath and dug to the bottom of your suitcase, pulling out a simple black skirt and plain lavender top, not too flashy and not too simple, either. Deciding it best to just settle for what you had in your hands and not overthink it, you shoved all the other clothes back into the suitcase and zipped it shut.

Next thing you knew it was 30 minutes later and you were rushing to finish putting yourself together, your hair never quite falling right and your makeup always seeming to be smudged no matter how much you tried to fix it. The knocking on your motel room door had your heart lurching in your chest, swiping on a quick stripe of lip gloss before you took a deep breath and opened the door. 

Steve was standing on the other side with his hands in the pocket of his jeans, an untucked polo with the first few buttons undone wrapped tight around his chest. Somewhere in the last hour he had taken great care to get his hair styled, and the expensive smelling cologne he wore wafted towards you when a warm summer breeze blew in from behind him. He smiled when he saw you open the door, shoulders relaxing as if he had been nervous that you wouldn’t answer.

“Hey.” His smile seemed genuine, not like the fake charming ones you usually got from the few guys you tried to date back at school.

“Hi.” There was a moment of silence where neither of you knew what to say until Steve cleared his throat. 

“Come on. I know a good diner that’s open late where we can grab something to eat.” He nodded his head towards the parking lot, taking a step back as you stepped out of the room and shut the door behind you. He walked with you down to his car while trying to make awkward small talk, opening the passenger side door for you and shutting it gently once you’d gotten settled in the seat. He climbed in himself and started up the car, engine humming as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. 

The silence in the car was cut up by the occasional short conversation and the sounds of music softly playing through the radio, street lights illuminating the sharpness of Steve’s face as the car traveled down the road. After about 10 minutes, maybe less, you arrived at the diner, a slightly run down building lined in neon lights with three cars already in the parking lot. After pulling into a parking space right by the door, Steve turned the car off and ran over to your side of the car quickly, opening the door for you before you even had a chance to reach for the handle. You were thankful that the lights above you weren’t quite enough for him to see the blush forming over your cheeks. 

Inside the diner, the pair of you picked a booth over in the corner, far away from the other couples and families who had also decided to get a late dinner here. The waitress, a kind older woman with bright red lipstick and heavy blue eyeshadow, took your orders and left, leaving the two of you alone to sit in a lingering, slightly awkward silence. 

Each of you tried to start a conversation, but it felt as if you had no idea what to say, eventually sharing a choked laugh to fill the silence. Apologies naturally turned into conversation, and before you knew it, you were already halfway through your plate of burger and fries. 

“So, you said you go to school in-state?” You nodded, swallowing the fries you had been chewing.

“Mhmm. There were no good options back home, and I’ve got friends in Indiana so I figured it’d be a good choice.”

“What are you studying?”

“Chemistry.” Steve’s eyes widened for a moment and he let out a small laugh. “What?”

“You are way smarter than me to be studying something like that. I barely passed chemistry in high school.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a pretty smart guy to me.” He scoffed. “I’m serious! Maybe you just haven’t found what you’re good at yet.”

“Well, I’m glad you have so much faith in me.” You laughed, and another silence fell over the table.

“So, your boyfriend gonna be mad that I took you out tonight?” You choked a bit on your drink and gave Steve a small smile, eyebrow raised at his bluntness. He cringed at himself a bit, failing quite miserably at his attempt to subtly feel out whether you were single or not.

“He might be, if I had one.” Steve’s head perked up a bit. “Fortunately, my dating life is quite abysmal.”

“Really? Girl like you and no boyfriend?” Steve’s voice had a bit of a teasing lilt to it, lips upturning at the sides in a charming smirk. You felt your face heat up at the way his eyes scanned over your features, lingering a bit longer in some spots.. 

“Guys don’t really ask me out much, and as you can probably tell, I don’t really go around asking guys on dates much, either.”

“Well, what changed this time?” He leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hand. “I mean, you just met me and you let me take you out.”

“Well you never said it would be a date.”

“Would it have changed your mind if I told you it was?” You stayed silent for a moment, giving him a smile of your own as you sipped your drink.

“No.” Steve’s smile grew wider at that. 

“Good.” Steve fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out several bills, placing some atop the bill the waitress left at your table and throwing a few more in the middle of the table as a tip. He stood from the booth, reaching his hand out towards you. “Come on, I’ve got somewhere else I want to show you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and sent him a curious smile, taking his hand in yours and letting him lead you back to his car.

The drive was probably 15 minutes, although it felt much shorter with the small talk that kept the two of you entertained the whole drive. You found out that he’d been working at the Family Video you met him in for a few years, he still lived with his parents even though they weren’t around much, and he spent a good chunk of his time looking out for a group of kids a few years younger than him. He was humble every time he was talking about himself but bragged on and on about his friends, and every time you asked him a question about his high school years he seemed to cringe and change the subject. 

You let out an airy laugh as he turned down onto a dark dirt road, ending abruptly a few feet into the woods surrounding it. 

“You know, if you were anyone else, I’d think you were a serial killer taking me out to the middle of the woods like this.” Steve kissed his teeth and his face flushed red. 

“Yeah, I really didn’t think about how that would seem when I thought about bringing you out here.” He turned off the car and undid his seatbelt, giving you a slightly apologetic look. “I swear, I did not bring you out here to kill you.”

“It’s okay, I trust you.” He gave you a smile before hopping out of the car, once again running over to your side to open the door for you. He held out his hand to you again and you took it, gripping it tightly as he helped guide you down a worn down path that snaked through the trees. 

His pace slowed as you came up to a small clearing, a collection of large rocks the main feature in the center of it. A warm wind rustled the leaves in the trees, and you gripped Steve’s hand a bit tighter when you heard some animal running across the leaves behind you. 

“So, this where you take all of your girls on the first date?”

“No, not anymore.” You wondered what he meant by that, but decided not to question it. “Just figured you’re a girl who likes to look at the stars.” You let out another laugh, probably your hundredth of the night.

“You’re pretty good at making assumptions about people, I’ll say that much.” You leaned against one of the rocks and turned your head up to the sky, looking up at the stars that dotted it and connecting the constellations with your finger. “They’re so clear here, nothing like Indianapolis.” 

You heard the leaves crunch under Steve’s feet as he came to stand next to you, barely a shoulder apart. 

“You can see them even better at Lover’s Lake, but I figured it might be too soon for that.” 

“Well, I guess you’ll have to take me some other time then.” You turned your head to face him, surprised at just how close he was to you.

“Yeah? You’d like that?”

“Yeah. I think I would.”

You felt crazy. You never went on dates, never asked a guy out, never even sent a slightly romantic glance towards a guy, and here you were, flirting with someone you just met today, who you may never see again, and blushing when he gave you those stupid soft eyes and that charming smile. You told yourself that dating was this long, drawn out process and that you would never date someone who you weren’t friends with first, but yet right now, staring at Steve and practically melting with the way he was looking at you, you were filled with this overwhelming urge to just grab him by the shirt collar and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. It didn’t make sense, how you could go from being so scared of relationships one minute, to imagining what it would be like if you never met your friend in Indianapolis and just stayed here for the rest of the summer. It had your mind running through a thousand different questions all at once, the loudest of them being ‘do I kiss him?’

Nature made up your mind for you as a loud crack of thunder sounded overhead, breaking the staring contest the two of you had been having for the past minute. Steve muttered something under his breath and grabbed your hand again, pulling you behind him quickly in an effort to beat the rain that was sure to fall soon. 

You were able to make it back to the car before the first drops started to fall, but the drive back to the motel was filled with a tense silence accompanied by the sounds of heavy raindrops hitting the car from all angles. When Steve finally pulled the car into the same parking spot he placed it in when he picked you up, he broke the silence. 

“If you want, I can take you down to Eddie’s garage in the morning to check on your car. He rarely ever sleeps, so I bet he’s gonna be up all night working on it.” You gave him a tight lipped, unsure smile.

“That’d be nice, thanks.” He gave you a nod and a tight smile back, staring at his hands as you got out of the car and walked up the stairs to your motel room. Your key was halfway in the door when you stopped, hair and clothes dripping as you got more and more soaked with rain water the longer you stayed outside. 

You couldn’t let this chance go to waste. You just couldn’t.

Without enough time to stop yourself, you ran back down to Steve’s car, yanking open the passenger side door and leaning your top half inside. 

“Hey, did you forget someth-” You grabbed him by the shoulders and cut his words off with a kiss, a bit sloppy and unsure, but he didn’t seem to mind. After a few seconds, one of his hands came up to meet your cheek, and you found it hard to pull yourself away. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” He floundered for the words he wanted to say, smiling lips moving like a fish out of water when he couldn’t form the words. With one last laugh, you closed the car door and ran back up to your room, sliding the key the rest of the way in and taking refuge from the rain. 

Clothes still dripping and hair still soaked, you leaned against the door to collect yourself, then rushed over to the phone with a squeal. 

Your best friend was probably asleep, but she wouldn’t mind being woken up to hear about this.

< part 3 coming soon >

[wildsupernova]

I SWEAR GUYS IM NOT DEAD MY PHONE IS JUST A PIECE OF SHIT AND UNINSTALLED TUMBLR THEN WOULDNT DOWNLOAD IT FOR LIKE A MONTH I SWEAR ILL UPDATE SOON

[wildsupernova]

“i have the most handsome boyfriend in the world 😍😍” and it’s the ugliest mother fucker you’ve ever seen

[wildsupernova]

summer, sun, and a smoking engine.

summary: when your car breaks down on the side of the road in Hawkins, Indiana, you don’t have many options other than try walking and find help. Thankfully, Steve Harrington is here to help.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: strong language, no use of y/n, little bit of mechanic eddie thrown in there (not really a warning but i have nowhere else to put this)

a/n: hello! this fic is a bit self indulgent, i guess you would call it. my love life has been quite terrible pretty much all my life, and i’m the kind of person who can’t help dreaming about a movie cliche type meet cute, so i wanted to write this fic to help quell my insatiable desire for a rom com romance. this is part one of what will probably be a three part series, so i hope you enjoy! :)

if you’d like to make a request, my inbox is always open. i also have my prompts list linked below so you request one of those as well.

part 2 (coming soon) | masterlist | prompts list

Stranded on the side of the road in Hawkins, Indiana was not the way you wanted to start your summer vacation. 

You should be in Indianapolis by now, lounging by the pool at your best friend’s house, raiding her parent’s liquor cabinet and getting drunk off your asses until you can’t remember anything the next morning. Not here, pounding against the steering wheel of your shitty rustbucket of a car wishing you’d actually remembered to do what your dad told you and take it to a mechanic before you made the trip. The horn honked as you slammed your forehead into it, but it was quickly swallowed up by endless fields on either side of you. 

The universe had a sick sense of humor when it came to you in particular, and it seemed the jokes never ended. Some vengeful god or cosmic plan had singled you out as the sole outlet for their aggression; just a girl with a particularly unremarkable life, desperate to escape the world just for a few weeks and forget about her ridiculously non-existent love life and only slightly above average academic career. 

Lately, your life has felt like one big joke. Everyday seemed to be the exact same mind numbing routine; wake up late, rush to make it to your 9 am lecture that left you falling asleep halfway through, eat the same shitty college cafeteria lunch you always did, spend three hours cramming for a test you know you’ll fail anyway, and go to bed at 2 am just to wake up and do it all over again the next day. You watched everyone else around you do something with their lives, whether they were partying all night or getting married. Everyone seemed to be having ten times more fun than you, and you were starting to think that you were just destined for a lonely, less than exceptional life. 

By the time you hit 20 with no long term relationships ever (none that really meant anything, anyway), you’d begun to think it was all futile. Maybe you were destined to be alone forever, maybe you just weren’t looking in the right places, maybe it just wasn’t the right time, but whatever the reason, it had you banging your head against the wall every time your roommate gushed about how sweet and sexually adept her boyfriend was. 

That’s why it really shouldn’t have surprised you that today of all days would be the one where you end up stranded in a town you’d never heard of until you saw the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign a few miles ago.

You’d seen a few cars coming this direction before your car had broken down, so you knew there had to be some sort of civilization not far from here. You’d considered standing by your car and waiting in the hopes that someone would stop to help you, but the sun was already beginning to set and it didn’t really seem like the safest idea to be alone in your car at sundown, especially in some place you didn’t know. That’s what pushed you towards what you were doing now, walking down the long stretch of road and hoping that you’d find someone who could help you not too far down it. 

Somehow, it seemed to feel hotter now that the sun was beginning to set, blistering heat causing sweat to begin forming on your skin almost the minute you stepped out of your car. You’d chosen the wrong day to wear a sundress and sandals, the arches of your feet burning more and more the longer you walked. You swatted at probably thousands of mosquitos that began to swarm you as you walked, and by the time you finally saw the signs of the city, you could feel your hair sticking to your forehead from the thick coating of sweat collecting there. 

The sun was about halfway set by the time you reached the parking lot of the small strip mall, and when you looked at the watch on your wrist it blinked dimly at half past 5. Every store was closed already except for one, a small Family Video store with a single maroon BMW parked outside the door. Finding it the only option you had other than to keep walking, and hoping the AC inside would be working, you pushed your way through the door and hoped someone inside would let you use the phone. And the bathroom. 

“I’m telling you, Robin, I’m hopeless.” Steve struggled to hold the stack of tapes in his hand, almost sending all of them tumbling to the floor when he tripped over a bump in the carpet. 

“You’re not hopeless, you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Maybe stop looking for the type of girl you had in high school? You’ve matured, so start looking for something new.”

“That's the problem, I don’t even know what my type is.” He placed the stack of tapes on the counter, picking up a few that fell over. Robin came to stand next to him, taking the tape off the top of the stack and starting to rewind it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, figure it out. Who knows? Maybe your dream girl will come walking right through that door any minute.”

The universe has one sick sense of comedic timing, doesn’t it?

Steve opened his mouth to offer up a rebuttal but was cut off by the chime of the bell above the door, hinges squeaking at it flung open then shut rather harshly. He turned towards the door and prepared to give his stupid, fake customer service greeting, but was cut short when he saw who it was that had just come through the door. 

He had never seen anyone like you. Hair a mess as if your hands had been running through it for hours, covered in sweat and rocking back and forth on your heels to stop your feet from hurting, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything more beautiful. Wearing a black sundress covered in white daisies and flat brown sandals, you looked like something out of a rom com cliche, damsel in distress stumbling into his life at just the right time. You looked around the store almost frantically and visibly irritated, but the second you laid your eyes on Steve on the other side of the counter you breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had to snap himself out of whatever trance you put him in when you started walking towards him. 

“Hey, do you guys have a phone I can use? My car broke down like a mile from here and I really need to call a mechanic.”

“Uh, yeah, there’s a phone in the back you can use.” A stray strand of hair fell into Steve’s face as he physically shook himself back into reality. “My friend’s a mechanic, I can give you the number to his shop if you want.”

“That would be perfect, thank you.” The relieved laugh you let out made his face heat up a bit, and he quickly grabbed a piece of paper to scribble the number to Eddie’s garage down on. He ripped it off and handed it to you, nodding towards the door reading ‘Employees Only’.

“Phone’s back there, take all the time you need.”

“Thank you so much,” Your eyes flitted down to the name tag on his vest, flashing him a soft grin. “Steve.”

Once you disappeared into the back room, Steve leaned forward against the counter. Robin let out a whistle and hopped up to sit on the counter next to him, kicking her feet back and forth. 

“Man, I was kidding when I said she’d walk through the door any minute, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that starstruck by a girl you just met.”

“She’s probably just…passing through town. Who knows if I’ll ever see her again after this.” Steve popped the tape out of the machine and put another one in, trying to occupy himself with anything other than thinking about you. 

“So? When has that ever stopped you before?”

“I don’t know, Robin. It’ll probably end in disaster just like every other time.”

“I don’t care. If you don’t take your shot with this girl, I might just kill you.”

Almost on cue, the door to the back room swung open again, a visible shift in your demeanor than when you’d walked in. You looked far less tense, and Steve found it hard to keep his eyes off of you. 

“You are truly a life saver. With any luck, I’ll be out of here and back on the road before sundown.” 

“It’s no problem, really.” Steve turned his head away to hide the blush on his cheeks. He gave Robin a look as she silently pushed him to keep the conversation going, eventually holding his hands up in surrender. “My shift’s almost over so I can, uh, give you a ride back to your car, if you want. I’d hate for you to have to walk all the way back in this heat. Plus it's almost dark, I wouldn't want a girl like you wandering around out there alone.”

Steve pressed his lips together tightly when he realized what he’d said, but the smile on your face let him relax. 

“I’d like that, thank you.” You rocked back and forth on your heels while you waited for Steve to gather his things, dress swishing back and forth against your thighs. You laughed a little to yourself while he scrambled frantically, muttering something to himself while he flushed red up to his ears. You flashed him a sweet smile when he finally had all his things, following him out the door and into the beemer you’d seen parked outside when you first arrived. 

Steve was handsome, there was absolutely no denying that. Sunkissed skin that was likely the result of hours of relaxing by the pool, fluffy brown hair you couldn’t help but want to run your hands through and the kindest brown eyes you’d ever seen. You were sure that at one time in his life he was a heartbreaker with all those good looks and boyish charm, but the way he got flustered just talking to you made you believe that he had put those days long past him. 

He seemed almost nervous sitting in the car with you, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road while stealing a few quick glances at you. He adjusted himself in the seat and cleared his throat, trying to break the tension in the air. 

“So, uh, what brings you to Hawkins?”

“Just passing through on my way to visit a friend in Indianapolis.” You smoothed down the skirt of your dress to find something to do with your hands. “Was hoping I’d get there by nightfall but, unfortunate turn of events I suppose.”

“Where are you from?”

“Out of state.” You kept it vague, still not quite sure if you could totally trust him. “I go to school in Indiana though.”

A few seconds later, your car finally came into view, seemingly in much worse shape than you left it. White smoke now billowed from underneath the hood, and you leaned yourself against the dash to try to get a better look from inside the car.

“No, no no no.” As soon as Steve made a U-turn and parked his car behind yours, you opened the door and ran over, running a hand through your hair in a panic. 

“I’m sure it's not…that bad.” Steve tilted his head as he came up next to you, scrunching his face as he looked at the smoke continuing to spill from your engine. “Yeah, I don’t think it's supposed to do that.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You let out a groan before collapsing to the curb, head in your hands. “I should have listened to my dad when he told me to get it checked. Now who knows how long it’ll be before I can get back on the road.”

“Look, Eddie’s good at what he does.” Steve sat down next to you, nudging his shoulder into yours to offer some comfort. “He’ll have her back up and running in no time.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll take a miracle to fix all the problems with this piece of shit.”

Steve’s small chuckle was drowned out by the rumble of an engine, raising your head to see a tow truck traveling down the road towards you and your still smoking car. The red, hand painted detailing stood out against the black body of the truck, and as it got closer, you could hear the rumble of metal music blaring out of the open truck window. The driver, who you had yet to catch a glimpse of, backed the truck until the winch was close to the front of your car, the truck letting out one last puff of smoke through the exhaust as the engine shut off. 

“Always picking up strays, aren’t you Harrington?” The driver called out at Steve as he opened the truck’s door, a soft thud sound following after as he hopped out of the truck. Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’m helping someone whose car broke down.”

“Mhmm. Bet you wouldn’t be helpin’ em if they weren’t so pretty though.” The man that had stepped out of the truck was the last person you’d expect to run a mechanic’s garage. Long, curly black hair down to his shoulders, arms covered in mismatched tattoos, and a cocky smirk on his face while he chewed on a toothpick. He looked to be only a few years older than yourself, and while you could tell that his disposition was likely off putting to most people he met, you found it oddly…comforting. Better a charming metalhead than a greasy bald guy drenched in sweat, you supposed. 

“You gonna get her car down to the garage or what?” Steve put his hands on his hips, earning a laugh from the other man. 

“Lemme assess the damage man. I gotta see what I’m working with.” He walked to the front of the car, playfully shoeing Steve away from it while he popped the hood. As soon as he did, smoke puffed out from around the engine, causing him to cough and wave it out of his face. He let out a whistle, leaning over the car to get a better look at the engine. “Good news, probably just a busted radiator hose. Easy and cheap fix, no biggie. Bad news? I won’t be able to fix it til’ the morning.”

“What?” You stood up from where you sat on the curb, leaning against the car. “I’m supposed to be in Indianapolis tonight. What am I gonna do?”

“Well, I’m sure ole Stevie over here can help you figure something out, can’t you Harrington?” He clasped his hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave him a rather rough shake. Steve sent him a glare before turning back to you, trying to offer up a sympathetic smile.

“There’s a motel a few minutes into town. Nobody ever stays there, so there should be room. I can give you a ride over, if you want.”

You took a second to take in your surroundings. Here you were, stranded on the side of the road in an unfamiliar small town, with a car that had no chance of working until morning and no way to tell your friend you wouldn’t make it to her house tonight. Your only other option was to start hitchhiking, so staying in a dead end motel sounded good right about now. 

“I guess I don’t really have many other options.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, Eddie’ll take good care of her.” Eddie winked at you playfully, bringing a small smile to your face. “And Stevie here will take good care of you.”

“Eddie, come on man.” Steve hid his face in embarrassment while Eddie snickered, clapping him on the back when he went to hook up the winch. You hide the redness in your own cheeks behind your hands.

“Sorry man, couldn’t help it.” Once the winch was hooked up and the front wheels of the car were off the ground, Eddie hopped back into the truck, leaning out the window to call down to you before he left. “I’ll get to work on her first thing in the morning, promise. She’ll be good as new before you know it.” 

He flashed you another smile before starting up the truck again, driving back towards town while you stood there watching your car get dragged along behind him. 

“Sorry about Eddie. He can be…alot, sometimes.” Steve leaned on the hood of his car, crossing his arms over his chest. You shrugged.

“S’okay. He reminds me a lot of a few of my friends back home, actually.” Steve chuckled a bit and nodded towards his car. 

“Well, you’ll be able to handle him better than me then. Come on, I’ll take you over to the motel.” You climbed back into the passenger seat of Steve’s car, sending him a quick thank you before he drove off. 

The sun was almost fully behind the horizon when you finally pulled into the parking lot of the ‘Stop Inn Motel’, a small, two story collection of motel rooms with a main office smack dab in the middle of it. There were only a few other cars in the parking lot, and the flashing neon ‘vacancy’ sign above your head almost made your head hurt in the dimming light. 

The girl behind the counter only looked up from her magazine after you rung the bell, rolling her eyes as she stood from her chair. 

“It’s $10 a night for a single, $15 for a double.”

“Just a single for the night, please.” You went to reach into your wallet for cash but Steve stopped you, handing over his own $10 bill to the desk attendant. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’ve already had a shitty enough day. It’s 10 bucks, no big deal.” Your shoulders relaxed at the soft smile on Steve’s face, kind eyes softening when he saw the way your mood rose a little. The girl behind the counter dangled a set of keys in front of you, which you took quickly.

“Checkout at 2 tomorrow. Stay after check out and it's a $5 fee per hour unless you pay for another night.” You gave her a nod and a thank you, which she ignored before heading back to her chair from before and flipping through her magazine again. 

Steve helped carry your bags from his trunk up to your room, standing outside while he passed you your bags over the threshold. You thanked him one more time before going to close the door, but he cleared his throat nervously to stop you. 

“Hey, uhm, you’re probably starving after everything today and I thought maybe I could…show you the best places to eat around town while you’re here?” The nervous wringing of his hand had your heart swelling in your chest. You were usually the one nervous around guys like Steve, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to turn down his offer. You’d always wanted to take more chances. Why not this one?

“I’d like that.” He raised his head as if he’d expected you to say no, smile curling his lips upwards. “Just give me an hour to get changed. I’m, like, drenched in sweat and dirt right now.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Good. See you then.”

You watched Steve all the way back to his car, closing the door behind you once he got out of your view. You leaned against it for a moment and took a deep breath in, then frantically began opening your luggage to find something to wear. 

Hey, maybe your piece of shit car was good for something after all. 

⊲Part 2, coming soon⊳

[wildsupernova]

and you loved me still.

summary: the memories of their summers together would haunt her for the rest of her life, always leaving her to wonder what could have been. steve never realized how important those memories were to him until he couldn’t forget it.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: no warnings for this one, although i guess there’s mild angst

a/n: hey guys! yet another short song based fic after a way too long break lol. i just finished up my second year of college so everything’s kind of hectic right now, but i’m gonna try to get out some longer, non-song based fics here soon i promise. hope you guys enjoy this because i’ve been OBSESSED with this song for the past month, and if you do, feel free to comment, repost, like, whatever! any interaction helps :)

if you want to make a request for a fic, my requests are open, and i also have a prompts list linked below to make requests from as well. i’ve been talking too long, so thank you guys for reading and i hope you enjoy!

masterlist | prompts list

The aftermath of it all left her numb, even after summer was over. She wished she could get over it the same amount that she wished it would sting more, because feeling anything at all would be better than being stuck in this limbo she’d been suspended in since August ended. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, but she also couldn’t bring herself to cry, doing nothing but sitting and reminiscing about the past 3 summers they’d spent together. Every time she looked at him, every memory would replay in her mind, and then his eyelashes would blink it all away. 

They were memories she didn’t really want to forget, something that reminded her of the few times that she was really, truly happy about being stuck in Hawkins. They were the only thing pushing her through the monotony that was the first half of the semester, and the only thing that kept her sane while she was surrounded by the plain white walls of her small dorm room. 

The warm Indiana wind flowed through the spaces between her fingers, her hand tapping along to the music that played through the radio. He turned the volume dial until the sounds of guitar and drums drowned out the purr of the engine as they drove, and she mouthed along to the words almost absentmindedly. 

He was wearing his brand new Nike sneakers, still pristine white and shiny as if they’d just come out of the box. He blamed it on where they were going, told her that he could only wear his “best shoes” to go hiking in the woods on the outskirts of Hawkins, but she wasn’t stupid. He was doing it all just to show off for her, and she was eating up every last bit of it. 

He made some joke to her that she couldn’t hear very well over the radio, but she laughed anyway. He told her that he loved the way she sounded when she laughed, and she’d never forget the way he leaned over the center console and kissed her long and slow, car dipping lightly into the ditch as he did. 

Steve Harrington was absolutely untouchable in those high school years. Stubborn, arrogant, one of the most difficult people she had ever met in her life. But none of it mattered because he was King Steve, the invincible monarch that ruled over all of Hawkins high. No one dared tell him how much of an asshole he was, or how much they hated him, because one wrong move and he’d make you the laughing stock of the school until graduation. Girls fell at his feet and followed him wherever he walked, and he had picked her. 

Just for the summer, that's what they had agreed. Just one summer, that turned into two and then three. He kept every secret she had ever told him held close to his chest, never letting a single one slip out of the confines of his bedroom. He took every weakness she ever had and became it, from his stupid, perfectly styled brown hair to his honey colored eyes. He took every insecurity and flipped it on its head, always turning self deprecating jokes she made into compliments. But in the end, she just couldn’t fill the shoes he wanted her to. 

She told him she wasn’t all in, but she was. By the end of that first summer, she’d fallen so deeply in love with him that she couldn’t go one day without thinking about him, unable to look at any other guy the way she looked at him. She couldn’t be like all of the other girls before, the ones content with summer time flings and one night stands. She wanted it all, and he wanted something fun. He was the king of the jungle and she’d fallen right into her role as his prey, and the second she let her guard down, he went in for the kill.

Steve wanted to forget the past, but nothing he could do would ever make it disappear from his memory. He thought that, maybe, if he could just fall into the monotony of his job at Family Video, he’d eventually be able to forget about her, but it seemed like the more he tried to forget, the more he remembered. Trying to push the past away only made him yearn for a future where he had her again, somewhere away from all of this, her body curled up against his own while they watched all those cheesy vintage movies she loved so much. 

The thing that hurt the most was remembering their conversation of how they imagined their life would be after high school, so far removed from what their lives were like now. 

“What do you think you’re gonna do after high school?” She blinked as she looked up at him, her eyelashes tickling his jaw. “You know, when all of this bullshit is over?”

He blew out a breath through his nose.”I don’t know, never really thought about it.”

“Really? Never once thought about what you want to do with your life when you graduate?”

“I always just kind of assumed I’d work for my dad after high school, I guess.” She moved out from under his arm and rolled over onto her stomach, bare chest pressed against the mattress. 

“Okay, then if you could do anything for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“I don’t know!” She let out a small laugh, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. 

“Come on, think! There’s gotta be something you’ve always wanted to do.”

“I guess if I had to pick anything, I’d be a teacher.”

Her eyebrows knit together. 

“Hmm.”

“See, it’s stupid-”

“No, it's not stupid! Just not what I expected you to say.” She flipped over to lay on her side, propping her head up with her hand. The blanket fell down and off her chest, and Steve had to stop himself from looking down. “What would you teach?”

“I don’t know, elementary school maybe? I like kids, so why not?”

“You want a big family, I take it?” He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Almost instinctively, she laid her head down on his chest, hand drawing circles along his skin while he talked. 

“I guess. House in the suburbs, picket fence, 4, maybe 5, kids.” She let out a loud laugh at that. 

“5? Seriously? You better hope whoever you marry is crazy because any sane woman would stop after 2.” He smiled at that. 

“It's a negotiable number.”

He was so difficult back then, so hard to love, but she did it anyway. He did everything he could to keep up appearances, to keep every girl he knew at arms length and never let them find a way into his heart, but somehow she made it in. She wanted him even when he was that arrogant asshole who wouldn’t even throw her a glance in the hallways, who wanted to keep their summer rendezvous a secret to save his own reputation, and found a way to bring out who he really was when they were alone. He kept every secret she told him locked up in his heart even though the guy he pretended to be would have aired it all out just to hurt her. He knew every one of her insecurities and weaknesses, and she knew all of his, but in the end, she just couldn’t fit the role of what he thought he wanted. 

Just another girl to occupy his time with, another girl to spend the summer with and forget about when the next one came along. Except one summer turned into two, which turned to three, which turned to watching her drive away with all her things packed up to begin her life. She had been all in for him, and he just wasn’t ready for that. At the time, he didn’t even know thats what he’d wanted, but now that she was gone and those summers were over, he wished he had, because all he can think about is how she had been nothing more than prey to him at the time, and he’d killed any chance at the life they’d talked about so many times. A life he kept trying to tell himself he didn’t want with her.

She wondered if it was all worth it, or if it had all just been a waste of time. A waste of time that left her wondering what could have happened if she’d just been honest, if she hadn’t lied to him at the end of that third summer when he asked her if she’d agreed that all of this was just for fun. She still knew all of his favorite foods by heart, still remembered his diner order and the movies he liked to watch when his parents weren’t home. She wanted to forget about all of it, but she couldn’t.

He wondered if it was worth it, hurting her like that. She’d always tell him that it wasn’t anything more to her, that she knew this was all just something to pass the time, but he knew she’d only said it to hide how real it all was for her. He wished he’d been able to recognize how real it had been for him just a little bit sooner, because maybe then he wouldn’t have to sit here and wonder what could have been. He wouldn’t feel like every date he went on was a waste of time, because the person who knew him best was long gone. 

She’d cling to the memories of her summers with Steve like something sacred and fragile, keeping them close as a reminder of when things used to be simple. When she could lie to herself about how she felt about him and still feel like she was telling the truth, when she had that false hope that maybe they could turn into something more than a summer fling. She heard from friends back home that he was a different guy now, but it seemed he was just that guy who would always come out when they were alone by his pool on those warm summer nights. The guy she fell in love with over and over again every summer. 

Maybe, if they met again, he’d be all in for sure, but she wasn’t sure she could be this time.

[wildsupernova]

too sweet.

summary: she was too sweet for him, everybody knew that. still, he couldn’t stay away, and neither could she, even when the sugar made his head spin and the bitterness burned her throat.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

warnings: brief mentions of sexual content, nothing too serious really

word count: 900

a/n: hey! just wanted get something up while i work on some longer pieces. i’m currently finishing up my second semester of my second year of college, so i haven’t had time or energy to write much of anything lately. figured i’d write a little blurb when i got the time to keep the content coming for you guys. anyway, hope you enjoy! hopefully new longer content will be coming soon. if you enjoy, leave a like, reblog, or a comment, whatever, any little bit of engagement helps. :)

masterlist | prompts list

She was too good for Steve, everyone knew that. She was a delicate, well groomed rose bush and he was the patch of weeds that grew in her planter box, stealing every last bit of water from her until her leaves turned brown and fell from her stem. He wasn’t someone a girl like her should ever be associating with, but something kept him coming back to her, and her to him. 

They didn’t speak in school, sharing stolen glances from across the hall, soft stares that turned desperate when they were filled with memories of two nights ago. To Steve’s friends, she was nothing more than a conquest, and to hers he was nothing more than a walking red warning sign telling her to run the other way. To each other, they were something they couldn’t quite name, unsure if it was love or boredom or something else entirely. But boredom wouldn’t have you running back to someone like this, wouldn’t have you lying awake thinking about them and your heart racing every time you shared a glance. 

He was the type to fall asleep when the sky was dark and wake long after the birds had already started singing, and she never crawled in or out of bed any later than the sun. He’d tried to see her once, crawl through her window after every streetlight had flickered on, but she hadn’t answered his taps on her window, duvet blocking out any sound that might disturb her early sleep. Two mornings later and he’s woken from his own sleep by the ringing of his phone, her sweet voice begging him to watch the sunrise with her at Lovers Lake. He had complained and told her it was far too early, but when she told him she got up that early everyday he simply laughed and grabbed his keys from the bedside table.

He asked her once if she’d ever thought about sleeping in, or staying out late to watch the stars around a bonfire. She’d shook her head, told him routine was what she needed, that she could get the most out of her day if she went to bed early, but that same night she’d made it back home long after the moon took its place in the sky, hair frizzy and skirt twisted sideways. 

She reminded him of when he’d drank a Screwdriver for the first time, far too sweet for him to handle without his head spinning, but giving him enough of a buzz that he couldn’t stop sipping it. He reminded her of the single sip of her father’s whiskey spiked coffee, the kind that turned her tongue bitter and burned her throat on the way down, but had her heart racing all the same. 

He always laughed at the way she’d scold him for his dirty mouth. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a single ‘bad word’ come out of her, and everytime one came out of him, she was quick to smack him on the shoulder and tell him off like a mother. She kept her body guarded, rarely letting his hands wander too far until it was two hours later and she was desperate for them to be anywhere else but on her face. He started to wake up earlier just to hear the birds sing about her. 

He started seeing her in everything. In the rainy days where the sun was still in the sky, the soft patter of raindrops hitting his window sounding more and more like her laugh every time. He saw her in the wisteria vines that climbed the trellis in his mother’s garden, in the sip of wine he stole from his mother’s glass. He told himself he could wait a few years until he didn’t burn so much, until he became a better man who could handle how sweet she was. She told him she didn’t mind the burn, didn’t mind the bitterness, but if he wanted to wait until he was smoother for her, she could do that. She could wait.

2 years later and she's still just as sweet, smooth like an aged bottle of wine but with that small bitter hint you don’t really notice until you’re two glasses in. He’s smoother, like the shot of bourbon sitting next to her on her kitchen counter, but he still burns just enough for her to recognize him. She downs the amber in the glass and tells him she can handle the burn, and he tells her that sweet still makes his head spin, even after all this time.

Suddenly he’s the one waking before the sun, slaving away over an oven and a glass of wine left out from the night before, birds singing the same song they used to years ago. He’s in bed by sunset because she’d pulled him to the bedroom by the arm, lips lingering on his skin in the same way he used to linger on hers. He finds himself watching his language and she lets a few dirty words slip now and then, and her hands move his lower when she gets tired of them on her waist. He still sees her in the rain and the roses outside of his apartment, down to the small thorns hidden just beneath the beautiful crimson petals. She sees him in the thunder storms and the dandelions, beautiful and dangerous all the same. 

Suddenly, Screwdrivers aren’t too sweet for him anymore, and whiskey doesn’t burn her throat quite like it used to.

[wildsupernova]

i thought people were joking when they said organic chem was hard but damn you guys weren’t lying 😭

[wildsupernova]

Smoke and Whiskey

summary: Steve hadn’t let himself get attached to anyone since he became detective. In his line of work, being cold was just an expectation. But when a beautiful jazz singer finds herself in danger, he begins to rethink that.

pairings: detective!steve x singer!reader film noir au

warnings: strong language, violence, mentions of death

Word count: 4k

a/n: hey there! this is mostly just a post i wanted to put up while i’m working on some other stuff. i’m also testing this sort of world out to see if you guys like it, and if you do, i’ll do some more little stories with these two characters! sorry if it’s a bit clunky, noir is surprisingly difficult to write, but i really enjoyed trying to break out into this world. thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy! <3

masterlist | prompts list

Steve hated jazz clubs. Maybe it was his cynical nature, or his constant pessimistic attitude, but something about them got on his nerves. Maybe it was the cloud of smoke that turned the room hazy, or the cheap alcohol served in crystal glasses that doubled as ashtrays, or maybe it was the side-eyed glances he got from the patrons the second they laid eyes on his badge. Whatever it was always made him irritable, and he wouldn’t spend more time in one that he had to. 

Tonight was no different. The club was one of the higher end establishments in town, crystal chandeliers casting a dim light over the room that was only made darker by the cigarette smoke that curled up from almost every table in the room. Steve held a cigarette of his own between his lips, fingers running along the edge of the shimmering crystal whiskey glass the bartender had handed to him a few moments ago. His eyes scanned the room with the precision of a practiced investigator, taking note of every familiar face he saw in the crowd. Gangsters, mobsters, career criminals. Almost everyone in here had some sort of record that they claimed to have put in the past. 

He wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for Callahan. Steve didn’t know what the officer had against him, but everytime he got the chance, he was sliding Steve another hefty case file. He was probably still bitter over being passed over for the promotion; Detective Callahan just didn’t have the ring to it that Detective Harrington did. 

He desperately wanted to get back to his office and drown himself in a good bottle of whiskey and stare at case files until his eyes hurt, but he had to do this first. She was the only link between the victims that anyone could find. 

Steve didn’t know why nobody talked to her before. Maybe it was shitty investigative work, or nobody could get a hold of her, maybe a mix of both. He was willing to put money on the former though; the department was going to shit ever since the Chief left, and nothing he could do would save it. Money was being thrown down the drain, the new chief taking in any new recruit that wanted a place on the force, leaving them with nothing but washed up middle aged fathers looking for a little bit of glory. Steve had been the best one to come through in the past 5 years, and now he had a shiny new detective badge and a corner office to show for it. 

He winced as the cheap whiskey touched his tongue, burning his throat as he swallowed. It wasn’t smooth like the expensive aged whiskey he kept locked up in his desk drawer; this was cheap, too many flavors mixing together to form a mixture of alcohol and spices that merely looked like whiskey. The other men in the bar seemed to be enjoying it. He had a feeling they just had bad taste.

He moved his arm to adjust the revolver that rested in the holster pressed against his ribs, showing it off to the man that gave him a sideways glance as he passed. His glass clinked against the polished wood of the bartop as he placed it back down, and the bartender was already replacing the empty glass with a full one. 

His eyes latched themselves to the stage as the crowd around him began to quiet their murmuring, lights above his head dimming until the room was painted a hazy pale yellow. He adjusted the way he sat on the barstool and leaned to his side as the stage’s curtains parted slowly. 

The sound of heels against wood echoed through the now silent bar, pulling his attention away from his glass and towards the stage. Long legs draped in a shroud of red silk came through the curtains first, a slit in the skirt parting it just enough for one leg to peek through as she walked. His eyes traveled up her legs to where her dress cinched at the waist, shaped and tied with a delicate precision that drew his eyes up and towards the face of the woman who wore it. Her lashes fluttered as she waved at the men in the bar with manicured nails, blowing kisses to the men who threw wolf whistles her way. The diamonds she wore on her neck and ears shimmered in the stage lights, and as her eyes passed over him, her red-painted smile grew wider, a color only comparable to the glass of cabernet the woman sitting next to him sipped from. 

She was far more beautiful than the flyers made her out to be. He found himself entranced by her as she stepped up to the microphone, and the moment she spoke in a sultry, smooth tone he couldn’t focus on anything else in the room. 

“It is such a delight to see so many familiar faces sitting in those seats tonight.” Her voice echoed off the walls around him, interrupted by the soft hollers and cheers from the men around the bar. She flashed each of them a smile and a wave before turning her attention to him, almost as if she had sought him out amongst the crowd. “And it is even more delightful to see some new faces out in the crowd tonight. Tonight’s performance is real special, so grab another glass and enjoy.”

A round of applause filled the room when she released her grip on the mic, head turning to look over her shoulder at the man behind the piano. With nothing more than a nod, he began to play, and seconds later, her voice came in to accompany.

He wasn’t really one to believe in Heaven and angels, but the way she sounded just might convert him. It was almost supernatural the way her voice swirled around his head, painting pictures behind his eyes that disappeared each time he blinked. In the silence that lingered after one song ended and the next began, his hand tightened around his whiskey glass, as if his body yearned to hear her voice again. 

He joined the audience in their round of applause as she made her final bow, flashing him one last smile and bat of her eyes as she turned to walk back through the curtain. He let out a breath as she disappeared behind the velvet, sliding a folded up bill to the bartender next to his third empty glass of the night. His hands adjusted his vest before he snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray, standing up from his barstool and crossing the distance to the mahogany door labeled ‘Employees Only’. The bouncer tried to stop him, but one flash of his badge and he was let through. 

As the door closed behind him, the conversation in the bar behind him became muffled, replaced instead by the soft melody of jazz floating from a nearby radio. His footsteps were softened by the checkered carpet lining the hallway, and when he reached the end, he found himself in front of a tall, red wooden door cracked open no more than an inch. A knock of his fist against the door two times elicited a soft response from the woman on the other side, so he pushed his palm against the door to swing it open on its hinges. 

The smell of rosewater perfume wafted towards him as he opened the door, the soft tones of smooth jazz echoing from a small radio perched on a table in the corner of the room. Practically every surface in the dressing room was occupied by a bouquet of flowers; some roses, a few tulips, half dead daisies that were shoved off into one corner. Makeup and half empty bottles of perfume were lined up meticulously at the base of the mirror attached to the vanity, as if she had a new perfume for every outfit. The woman sitting at the vanity popped her lips as she finished reapplying her lipstick, wiping away a smudge that had escaped the line of her lips. She blotted her lips on an already stained handkerchief, placing the tube back down on the vanity and turning towards the door. 

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.” She leaned her head against her hand, the sleeve of her robe falling down her arm just a bit. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

Steve had to take a moment to compose himself before he spoke. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, trying not to stare down the front of her dress as she leaned forwards. 

“Are you,” Another cough as his words got caught in his throat. “Are you aware of a murder that occurred at 12:47 am this morning?”

“There’s plenty of murders in this town, sir. You’ll have to be specific.” He fumbled for the notepad in his pocket, flipping it open. 

“Did you happen to know a ‘Robert Edwin’?” The woman’s face fell, lips no longer flashing him a sultry smile and eyes suddenly dim. She sat up a little straighter. “He was murdered last night.”

“Robbie?” She held a hand over her mouth, a small bit of maroon coming off on her palm. “Yeah, course I know Robbie. He’s my…was my manager. Known him since I was 7.” She stood from her seat and tugged her robe shut tighter. “He��s…He’s dead? You’re sure it was him?”

Steve felt something twist in his chest. Most of the time, it wasn’t hard to make death notifications like this, but the way she was shaking, trying not to break down in tears had him wishing he never had come here. He supposed it was better him than one of the other detectives known to be callous and cruel. 

“His family made the notification, we’re sure.” She wiped away a tear that made its way out, standing up straighter and morphing her face into a neutral expression. 

“What do you need from me, Detective?”

“Do any of these other names sound familiar to you? Laura Mareau, Eli William, James Carmen?” Her face paled as he read out the list. 

“Eli and James were old boyfriends of mine, but those ships sailed years ago. Laura…Laura beat me out for top spot at the Silver Angel last month. Why?”

“They were all found murdered earlier this week.”

“Oh my…” She was finding it hard to speak, beginning to pace back and forth. “Why? Who would do this?”

“That’s what I’m here to figure out.” He took a step closer to her, lowering his voice in an attempt to be soft and soothing. He felt that it didn’t really work much, but the stuttered breath of relief she let out told him he did something right. “Do you know of anyone who would want people close to you dead? Anything strange that’s been happening recently?”

Her face paled as her eyes snapped to the pile of dying daisies in the corner. 

“Everyday, there’s a new bouquet of daisies in my dressing room, always with the same note. Never a name, just the words ‘for you’. It can't possibly be anyone I know, because they all know I hate daisies.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if suddenly feeling too vulnerable in the small room. “I just…throw them in the corner until they die and it's time to throw them out, I never thought much of it.”

“Anything else happens, anything at all, you call me, alright?” Steve quickly scribbled his office number down on an empty page from his notebook, handing it over to her. She took it with shaky hands, making her way over to a small decanter of clear alcohol sitting on a table next to a pair of chairs. She poured herself a drink and downed it in one go, leaving a deep red lipstick stain on the rim. Steve turned to leave, but her voice calling out stopped him.

“Detective? Be honest with me.” She paused, as if she was trying to stop the words from coming out. “Am I in danger?”

Normally his response would be callous and brutal, but he took a moment to find the right answer. “It’s…possible, yes.”

She didn’t respond verbally, only pouring herself another drink and drank it just as quickly as the first. He came back to her side, laying a hand on her shoulder. 

“Look, I will do whatever I can to make sure nothing happens to you. You have my word.” He flashed her the best smile he could muster and she laughed. 

“You know, when I saw you sitting at that bar, you looked like someone who’d never spoken with kindness a day in their life.” Her eyes softened. “I guess I was wrong. Maybe cynicism is just a hard habit to unlearn.”

He dropped his arm from her shoulder and took a few steps back to the door. 

“I suppose it might be.” The door latch clicked as he turned the handle, pushing it open just a bit. “You need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Detective…?”

“Harrington. Steve Harrington.”

___________________________

The commotion outside of his office made him raise his head from his hands, a stray strand of hair falling into his eyes. He swiped it back into place and stood from his desk, closing the open manilla folder that had held his attention for the past hour.

“You don’t understand, I need to see him.” A feminine voice echoed from the other side of the door, tone irritated and bordering on frantic. Steve would have thought the male voice that responded was condescending if he didn’t already know that’s just how Officer Callahan sounded all the time. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the corner of his desk and opened the door.

“Ma’am, you can’t just walk in here and demand to see someone.”

“The hell I can’t! Not when someone is trying to kill me!”

“How do you know someone is trying to kill you?”

“That’s what I’m trying to explain to you, you slimy, arrogant bas-”

“Y/N.” As amused as Steve was at the way Callahan’s face had turned red from the singer’s insults, he stepped in before it escalated any further. Her face immediately softened and her shoulders relaxed when she saw him. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Detective, thank god you’re here. I kept calling and nobody was answering so I-” Her mouth was moving at a mile a minute, words spilling out so fast he could barely understand them. 

“Slow down, slow down. And call me Steve, please.”

She sucked in a breath before speaking again. 

“When I got to my dressing room this morning, the entire place was trashed, like someone had just…ran in and destroyed everything I owned. The only thing untouched was a vase of half dead daisies and a note. I didn’t know where else to go, and you said that if anything strange happened, I should call you.”

Steve placed a hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the door to his office, her shoulders loosening as she melted into his touch. 

“You did the right thing by coming here. Don’t worry, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

“Thank you, Dete-Steve.” Steve shot Callahan a scolding look before shutting the door to his office, nodding for her to sit down in the chair across from his own. She straightened her skirt before she did, lifting her hat off of her head and placing it in her lap. 

“You gave Callahan quite the lashing out there.” She sat a bit straighter. 

“I deal with men like him all the time. Brutish, arrogant, think a title and a gun makes them better than everyone else.”

“Most women would have just apologized and kept begging.”

“Well, I pride myself on not being like most women.”

“That much I can see.” He tried to make conversation to keep her calm, and it seemed to work well enough judging by the small smile on her face. Steve poured himself a glass of whiskey before offering one to the woman sitting across from him-which she politely declined-and sat down in the chair across from her. “What’s in that letter that’s got you coming in here and yelling at a police officer at 9 am?”

She rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it across the desk and towards Steve.

“I found this in my dressing room this morning. First thing I did was try to call, but when you didn’t answer, I had to come down here and show you in person.”

Steve picked up the note and looked at it. It was something out of a bad movie cliche, words glued onto the paper with magazine and newspaper clippings. On their own, he likely would have chalked them up as an empty threat, but the recent murders had him believing that whoever put the letter together was likely serious. 

“Do you have any idea who might have wrote this?”

“I have plenty of weird fans, Detective. My regulars write me angry letters all the time because they’re upset I give my attention to someone else. If so many people hadn’t been…murdered, I would have thought this was just another angry fan.”

Steve could see the worry on her face and in her tone, even through the brave front she was putting up. He placed a hand atop her own, trying his best to offer comfort. 

“You don’t have to worry, okay? I’ll be at that club every night until this stops if I have to.”

“Thank you.” She sniffled a bit, trying to wipe away her tears before he could see them. Her hands shook, and it wasn’t hard to tell that she was terrified. “You’re quite the detective, you know.”

Steve found himself blushing. 

“Just doing my job.” She stood from the chair and straightened her clothes, hand gripping the door handle and twisting. 

“Well, it’s been a long time since this town has had a competent man wearing the badge.” She pulled the door open and took a step through, turning to him with a smile. “And one who isn’t too bad to look at.” She shut the door behind her, and once he heard the door click shut, he laughed to himself and took another drink from his glass. 

“Some woman.”

_______________

Never did he think he’d be back in the same jazz club twice in one week, but here he was, cigarette in hand, smoke swirling around his head until it melted in with the haze already covering the room. The soft chatter of patrons bounced from wall to wall until it reached his ears, ice in his whiskey long melted since the waiter had brought it to his table. 

He was only here because of her. Because if something happened to her he wasn’t sure he could live with himself. It didn’t make sense; in his line of work, you weren’t supposed to get attached. You desensitize yourself and break everything down to victims and offenders to make it easier on you. You aren’t supposed to feel what he was feeling. 

He wanted to protect her, but not in the same way he wanted to protect the city. He wanted to wrap her up and keep her in a glass case if it meant nothing bad would ever happen to her. 

He’d told himself he wouldn’t let this happen. No love, no lust, not anymore. Not since he took that badge from the chief and swore his oath. Things get too complicated when he lets himself fall in love. 

He wasn’t even sure that's what this was, he’d barely known her for more than a few days. Sure, he’d been in love before but it didn’t feel like this. It hadn’t made him worry like this.

The cheers of the audience brought his attention away from the swirling amber in his glass. His booth in the corner gave him a good view of the rest of the bar, but it gave him a perfect view of the stage, a fact he pretended hadn’t been a factor when he was picking his seat. 

The dim lights above his head were overshadowed by the spotlight shining on the stage, his eyes watching as a hand parted the curtains and a body stepped through. She shimmered under the spotlight, each crystal on her dress spreading light to the others around it. She walked slowly, back straight and head held high, but he noticed the way her hands shook as she walked. 

She made her introductions with the sultry voice she saved only for the stage, eyes scanning over the crowd. When her eyes locked with Steve’s, her shoulders relaxed.

The melody she sang felt like something akin to a siren song, keeping his eyes transfixed on her the whole way through. He watched the way she closed her eyes to hold a long note, the way she used her hands to emphasize the shift in notes, how she tapped her foot against the stage to keep the beat. Song after song he did nothing but watch, and as she took a bow and left the stage, he joined the others in their round of applause. 

He stood, hoping to grab another drink at the bar before he left, but a man harshly bumping his shoulder stopped him in his path. The man didn’t raise his head, only glancing at Steve’s badge before mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ and rushing past. He would have assumed the guy was just another drunk if he hadn’t rushed through the ‘Employees Only’ door, scampering past the bouncer that tried to stop him. 

Steve was quick to follow, pulling the gun from his holster once he was out of sight of the other guests. The sounds of shouting from down the hall had him moving faster, and one quick gunshot had him breaking out into a full sprint. 

He rounded the corner to the dressing room expecting the worst, but when he took a step through the doorway, he let out a breath and lowered his gun. 

There she was, cowering in the corner, small pistol outstretched in her shaking hand. The gems on her dress sparkled as they moved in time with the heaving of her chest, and her eyes darted around the room until they fell on him. 

She didn’t move as Steve bent down to check the man’s pulse, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt the steady rhythm of a heartbeat underneath his fingers. He turned the man over and put him in cuffs, handing him over to the officers who had rushed down the hall at the sound of the gunshot. 

“He’s not…dead?” Steve turned towards where she stood, tears glossing her eyes as she lowered her hand. He took a few steps closer, kicking the gun away from her when she dropped it to the floor. 

“No, he’s not dead.” The second the words left his lips, she let out a heavy breath and a sob, Steve’s arms catching her when her knees gave out. She wrapped her arms around him to catch her balance and he did the same (albeit rather awkwardly). She hid her face in his chest until her tears finally stopped, pulling from him and taking a step back as she wiped away the last of her tears. 

“Sorry, I got lipstick all over your shirt.” He looked down at his chest and, sure enough, there was a bright red smudge across the white of his button up. He let out a laugh. 

“‘S okay.” He took a hesitant step towards her, grabbing one of her hands to try and help her shaking. “Where did you get a gun?”

“I bought it the day I came by the station.” She straightened her posture when his hand touched her, taking in one last deep breath. “I didn’t know when he would come after me and wanted to be safe.”

“It was smart.”

“But I could have killed him.” There was a fear in her eyes when she met his gaze. “I almost killed him.”

“You protected yourself.” He placed his other hand over the one he was already holding, doing his best to comfort her. “No shame in that.”

“I just…” She closed her eyes to collect her thoughts. “I just want to get out of here.”

Steve gave her a soft smile. 

“Let's get out of here then. I’ll buy you a drink.” She gave him a small laugh and a sly smile. 

“Should you really be drinking on the clock?”

“Nobody has to know.” He let go of her hand and held out his arm. She took it quickly, fingers wrapping around his bicep in a way that had him blushing. 

“Well, let's find a good spot at the bar then.”

[wildsupernova]

a movie i’ve seen before.

summary: you can’t stop playing it out in your mind like it’s a movie. but the ending is always the same, no matter how many times you wish it would change.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: small amount of explicit language, a small mention of harassment, angst

word count: 1.6k

masterlist | prompts list

You’re counting the swirls in the ceiling above you. 

1, 2, 3. 

The music from the party downstairs shakes the floor beneath you and you hug your knees closer to your chest. You’d had to slip away when yet another drunk teenage boy had brushed up against you and played it off as an accident, but the way his hand had been dangerously close to the hem of your skirt had told you otherwise. 

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. 

Your heart was finally starting to slow down and you could breathe again, although every inhale was shaky and every exhale caught in your chest. You continued to stare at the shapes the plaster made on the ceiling, counting the center of each swirl to keep yourself calm. You wished the night would just go by faster so that you could stop hiding away in Steve’s bedroom and leave this stupid party. You would have walked back home by now if it hadn’t started raining a few minutes ago. 

“Hey.” A soft voice from the doorway pulled your attention away from the ceiling, eyes barely able to make out the shadow of the boy standing there. Steve was offering up a small smile, one you tried-and failed-to return. “You okay?”

“No, not really.” He waited for a moment before he took a step into the room and sat on the floor next to you, knees propped up in the shape of a V, arms draped over them and a can of beer in one hand. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

When he asks, it all comes spilling out. 

“I’m not usually like this. I don't know why it's bothering me so much.”

“What's bothering you?”

“All the guys that keep…staring at me, doing that stupid thing where they walk too close to me and pretend they didn’t mean to.” His brows furrowed.

“Who? Because I can kick someone out if I have to-”

“No, I don’t want you to make a big deal about it, okay? I’m just gonna…sit up here for a while.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You should have told me what was going on, I would have told them to leave.”

“That’ll just ruin the night for everyone. Please, it’s okay.” He looked as if he was about to say something further, but dropped it. 

“Fine, but the next time they show up for a party I’m not letting them in.” You let out a small, choked laugh. 

“Thanks.” There was a silence that settled over the room. It comforted you, to just be able to sit here and talk without trying to yell over the music. Especially if it was with Steve.

“I can take you home, if you want.”

“No, Steve, I don’t want to make you leave your own party-”

“It's not a big deal, seriously. I don’t want to make you stay if you’re uncomfortable.” 

You thought about protesting again, but instead you nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’d like to go home.”

He stood up and held out a hand for you to take, pulling you up quickly once you took it. His grip on your hand got tighter the longer it took for the two of you to weave through the crowd and make it to the front door, and didn’t loosen even after you’d left the house. He laughed as the rain, which had now begun pouring down harder, soaked through his clothes nearly the second he took a step out from underneath the porch. One step on the pavement and your shoes had completely soaked through with water, and all you could do was laugh as Steve dragged you through the rain and to his car. 

You wished the moment could have continued on just a bit longer. 

Next thing you knew, Steve was pulling into the driveway of your house and putting the car in park, the only sound in the car the squeak of the windshield wipers and the soft hum of the radio. You didn’t want to leave the sanctuary that Steve had been providing you all night, leave the only thing that gave you a chance to breathe. The second you opened the door and left, it’d be back to that place somewhere between lonely and lost, drifting untethered in some place you didn’t have a name for. 

“We can hangout tomorrow if you want.” Steve adjusted himself a bit in his seat, taking one hand off the wheel. “We haven’t hung out just the two of us in a while.”

“I’ll have to check with my parents but I don’t think I’m busy.” You flashed him a smile, one he returned. Another silence fell over the car, this one much thicker. 

You hadn’t gotten a good look at Steve since before the party. His hair had begun to dry on the drive here, strands starting to curl softly at the ends. He smelled of beer and expensive cologne, and his soaked shirt stuck to his chest and arms. His smile had dropped into something neutral, and the way his eye flicked over your own face had you feeling self conscious. 

“Something wrong?” Steve shook his head and let out a breath. 

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…” He paused and tried to find the right words to say. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t have to.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He swallowed. “You know your parents will kill you if you miss curfew.”

“Right.” Your heart was beating in your ears, so loud it was almost deafening. “I should probably go, then.”

“Right.” You contradicted your own words and made no move to leave the car. There was another moment of silence before Steve let out a breath that seemed to say ‘fuck it’. 

Before you could process it, his lips were on your own, soft and hesitant and sweet. It took your breath away, made your body freeze, but the second your mind kicked back in, you were kissing him back. He relaxed, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face and hold you there. It felt like something out of a movie, the kind of scene where some cheesy pop track plays in the background and the whole thing goes into slow motion. 

It couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but you were breathless when you pulled away. Your hand gripped the handle of the car door, popping the latch and pushing it open. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” It was hard to get the words out, but when you did, Steve smiled.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” 

Three weeks later and you’re waking up in Steve’s bed, a single beam of sunlight passing through a gap in the curtains. The sheets are soft against your bare skin, and you bury your face further into the pillow as you feel the soft shapes Steve’s fingers make along your back. His touch is soft, never traveling too high or too low, but still running along every spot nobody else has ever touched. At some point you fall back to sleep, and when you wake up again you find yourself thinking about how nice this feels. The sheets feel like a shield, blocking out the chaos that had been surrounding the two of you for days. You find three words teetering on the tip of your tongue as Steve presses his lips against your neck. 

They’re still there when he drives you back home, and they slip between your lips when he does something stupid that makes you laugh. 

“God, I love you.” You don’t realize that they’ve come out until he freezes, and you try to take them back. “Fuck, I’m sorry I-”

All he does is cut you off with a kiss, as if he were drowning and you were the only gasp of oxygen he could get. It was his hands gripping tightly to the sides of your face, your eyes shooting open in surprise, your hands clutching the neck of his shirt to ground yourself. It was three words that had slipped out of your mouth, and three words he still wasn’t quite ready to say. 

“Y/N?”

But it wasn’t real. 

This isn’t how it went. 

He didn’t kiss you. You can’t even remember the last time someone kissed you, especially not someone like Steve. It felt like a movie because it was, one you’d made up in your mind and played on repeat like an old VHS tape. You always tell him you love him but he never says it back because you know it isn’t true, but you still keep watching hoping that one day the ending will change.

Your eyes snap back into focus as you turn your head away from the car window, no longer watching the raindrops race to the base of the window. 

“Huh? What did you say?” You clear your throat and pretend your voice didn’t crack, but the look on Steve’s face tells you he noticed. 

“I asked if you wanted to hang out tomorrow.” He phrases it more like a question, and the way he’s looking at you makes you want to shrink into your seat. Your face heats in embarrassment and you hurry to open the car door. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah sure. I’ll, uhm, call you in the morning.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but you’re already out of the car, rainwater splashing up onto your legs as you run through the front door. The second it shuts, you blink away the tears that had been threatening to spill since Steve pulled into your driveway. 

You tilt your head upwards and start to count the swirls on the ceiling. 

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4.

[wildsupernova]

roses, chocolates, and a heart shaped box.

summary: valentine’s day had always felt like a joke to you. nobody had ever taken the time to do anything nice for you, but when the sickeningly romantic steve harrington falls in love with you, of course you’ll have the best valentine’s day ever.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: some suggestive language, nothing too crazy

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hey everyone! i know it’s been a while since i posted anything, but my second year of college has been kicking my ass and making it near impossible to get motivation to do anything. i figured what better way to get back in the swing of things than with a valentine’s day fic! i know it’s a day early, but i wanted to get this up before i got too busy and forgot about it. anyway, hope you guys enjoy, and happy valentine’s day!

masterlist | prompts list | ao3

Valentine’s Day had never been something you looked forward to.

Even as a kid, you associated it with loneliness, watching on as all the little second grade boys gave their crushes a dandelion they picked fresh from the playground at recess. You detested it when they started selling candy-grams in middle school, because every year it seemed that you were the only one who never received one. You’d check your locker every day for the whole week hoping that maybe someone had slipped you a note only for nothing to fall out when you opened it, held your breath when they handed out the candy-grams only for your name to never be called, and dressed yourself up nice in the hopes that someone at the Valentine’s Day dance would ask you to dance with them only to end up with sore feet and running mascara by the end of the night. By the time high school came around, you gave up on the idea of Valentine’s Day altogether, never having a relationship last long enough to celebrate it. 

You’d turned into a stone hearted cynic, and just the mention of the words ‘Valentine’s Day’ had you rolling your eyes. 

That was, until you met Steve Harrington. 

You’d never met someone so…romantic. He was the kind of guy to show up to your house with flowers for no reason other than that he wanted to, or buy you a pair of fake diamond earrings (hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?) he saw at an antique shop because he saw them and immediately thought of you. He was the type to leave small little love letters in your locker between classes, and pick you up and spin you around and cover you in kisses because he missed you. 

But that didn’t change the fact that you hated Valentine’s Day. 

Steve had never been able to understand how someone could hate Valentine’s Day. ‘Come on!’ He’d say. ‘It's a whole day where people who love each other do something special together. What could be better than that?’ You’d always respond the same way; that to you, Valentine’s Day was nothing but a commodity and an excuse for boyfriends who did nothing for their girlfriends all year to make up for it with a fancy dinner and a box of chocolates. You don’t need a special day to show you love someone. If you really love someone, everyday is like that. 

It took him prying it out of you before you finally admitted the real reason you hated Valentine’s Day. 

“Nobody’s ever done anything nice for me on Valentine’s Day, okay?” The words come out with a bit more bite than you mean for them too, and Steve’s face scrunched a bit. 

“What?”

“Nobody’s ever done anything for me for Valentine’s Day.” You repeat yourself. “I’ve never gotten…flowers, or chocolates, or a nice dinner or anything. It’s not a big deal, I’m used to it.”

“Nobody has ever done anything nice for you?”

“I mean, my parents always got me chocolate every year but…nobody ever really made the choice to do anything.” You picked at your nails and tried to make your voice sound like it didn’t bother you, but Steve could hear the disappointment. He tried to question you about it further, but you changed the subject before he could. “It’s not a big deal. Let’s just talk about something else, okay?”

For the next month, Steve took it as a personal challenge to give you the best Valentine’s Day you’d ever had. He even made a stupid little flow chart in one of his notebooks, chicken scratch and scribbles covering 3 whole pages while he tried to brainstorm the best way to make up for all of your shitty Valentine’s Days. He probably looked crazy, the way he was scribbling like a madman during class, but it would all be worth it in the end. 

The plan he came up with was simple, really.

Everyday for the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, he put a single red rose in your locker or left it on your bedroom windowsill. Never anything more, other than a note he’d sloppily tied to the stem of the flower with a pink ribbon, the words ‘I love you’ written in red ink. Every day you placed the new flower in a small glass of water you used as a makeshift vase and put the notes in an old jewelry box you didn’t use anymore. 

Everyday you’d tell Steve he didn’t have to do that, that you were content with not getting anything, but your smile that spread ear to ear told him more than your words did. 

By the time Valentine’s Day finally arrived, you had a full bouquet of seven red roses sitting on your bedside table, and a stack of sloppily written love notes sitting in a box on your dresser. It made you hold your head just a little bit higher, smile a bit brighter, and feel a little bit happier on a day that you always associated with something lonely. 

When you opened your locker that morning, you were met with another red rose and a note, except this time the note had been clumsily cut into the shape of a lopsided heart, the words ‘Be my valentine?’ written in glittery pink pen. Two arms wrapping around your waist had you clutching the flower tighter, leaning your back into Steve’s chest. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispered the words against your ear as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, a smile pressed against your skin. You turned in his arms and draped your own over his shoulders. 

“Where’d you get a pink glitter pen?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shut up anymore questions with a kiss, and you giggled. A stupid, girly, lovesick giggle. Steve had a dopey smile on his face when you parted. “Got you something else too.”

He reached into your locker and pulled something out from behind the textbooks, a heart shaped box tied shut with two white ribbons. You went to untie them before he stopped you, placing a hand over your own. 

“Don’t open it til’ you get home, okay?” You gave him a skeptical look but nodded anyway. 

“Okay?” You slipped the box back into your locker and closed it, cradling your books and the rose in the crook of your arm. “Hey, I gotta get to class, but I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and as you went to walk away, he grabbed your wrist lightly. 

“You never answered my question, you know.” Your smile grew impossibly wider. 

“Yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

When you got home that afternoon, you untied the note from the stem of the rose, clipped it, and placed it in the cup with the others, hand delicately adjusting the flowers until they fell just the right way. You pulled the box from your backpack and plopped down on the bed, untying the ribbon and pulling the lid off. 

Inside was an assortment of fancy chocolates, the kind you’d always eye at the grocery store as a kid but your parents told you were too expensive to buy. In a small empty space in the center sat a small black velvet box and another note, folded over in a rather well made origami heart. You picked it up and unfolded it, smiling at the words written inside. 

‘I’m picking you up at 7. Wear something nice. 

I love you.’

When you opened the velvet box, you almost cried. 

Inside the box sat a small promise ring, a silver band swirling in dainty, earthen patterns until they curled around a single pink gemstone fashioned in the shape of a rose. Underneath the lid was a matching pair of earrings, and when you picked up the ring, you noticed an engraving on the inside of the band. 

‘I’ll love you until the last rose on Earth dies.’

It all felt like too much. You’d gotten so used to being alone, so used to never getting any gifts at all, that it felt like you didn’t deserve all of these special things Steve was doing for you. It was almost overwhelming, to have someone choose to show you how much they love you, instead of it feeling like some sort of obligation. 

Someone chose to love you. 

And you really, really liked that. 

By the time the clock hit 7, you felt butterflies swimming in your stomach. You knew you had nothing to be nervous about, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating far too fast and your face from keeping a constant blush. It didn’t help that you felt out of place dressed the way you were. 

You hadn’t had a reason to dress particularly nice since middle school, nor had you really had a desire to. When you’d pulled the nicest dress you owned out of your closet-a tight black dress that went to just above your knees and made you feel more than a little self conscious-the hanger had been covered in a thin layer of dust, as had the heels you decided to wear it with. The makeup on your face felt heavy, something you’d had to ask your mom for help with, and you coughed as you sprayed perfume straight into your mouth. You slipped the promise ring onto your finger and watched as it sparkled in your bedroom light.

When a knock on the door echoed through your living room at exactly 7:01 pm, you tugged the bottom of your dress down and walked over to the door, swinging the door open slowly. On the other side stood Steve, far better dressed than you had ever seen him, white button down and suit pants pressed smooth without a single wrinkle. He had a few of the buttons on his shirt undone for the fabric to fall open, revealing just enough of his chest to have you blushing. His hair, perfectly quaffed as always, fell into his eyes a bit, and a lovesick smile hid behind a large bouquet of roses. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful.” You took the bouquet from him, letting out a soft laugh. 

“I think you’ve given me enough roses for one week.”

“Well, you said nobody had ever gotten you flowers for Valentine’s Day, so I figured I’d give you enough to make up for it.” You thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and left to put the new roses with the rest, and as you arranged them all to fit, you noticed that there were 18 roses, one for every Valentine’s Day you’d missed out on. You smiled.

After a quick goodbye to your parents, the two of you were on your way to wherever Steve planned to take you, heat on blast to try and counteract the bitter Indiana winter. When Steve pulled into the parking lot of Enzo’s, your heart sputtered.

“Enzo’s?”

“You said you’d never been, but you’d always wanted to go, so I figured I’d take you out to a nice dinner. You know, to make up for all the times nobody ever took you.” He seemed almost nervous, fidgeting in his seat while his hands tightened a bit on the gear shift as he put the car in park. A smile slowly found its way onto your face, and you leaned over the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. When you pulled away, you giggled at the lipstick mark now staining his skin, and he wiped it away with a blush on his cheeks. 

Dinner had been a bit of a culture shock. You weren’t used to anything this ‘high end’, the entire restaurant filled to capacity with couples dressed to the nines to celebrate the holiday. A few of them were around your age, but they ran in a social circle so far away from yours that you didn’t know any of their names. 

That night was how you found out you weren’t really one for ‘fine dining’, portions far too small for the outrageous prices listed on the menu. Regardless, you had enjoyed it, even though you much preferred the burgers at the fast food place a few minutes away from your house. It helped that Steve was great company, and by the end of the night you were wishing you didn’t have to go home. 

“You could always come stay the night with me.” Steve’s hand snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, mere inches away from your front door. “My parents are gone for the week. Again.”

You swatted at his shoulder when his face morphed into a suggestive smirk. 

“You know my dad would kill me.”

“Just don’t tell him.” The words were a whisper against your ear as he pressed a series of kisses to your cheek. “Just sneak out. I’ll move my car down the street so they don’t see me and everything.”

“Do you want me to never be able to see you again?” You let out a small laugh, gently pushing his head away from your face and neck. “If they find out I snuck out I will literally never be allowed to talk to you again.”

Steve put on an exaggerated pout, earning him an elbow to the side.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m serious.” Despite your scolding tone, the smile hadn’t dropped from your face. Steve held his hands up in surrender. 

“Fine, fine. But next time your parents are gone for the weekend you’re staying the night.” You let out a laugh and pressed a kiss to his lips, Steve chasing after you when you pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you, for everything you did for me tonight.” He gave you another soft kiss as he smiled against your lips. 

“Can’t have my girl thinkin’ I’d just let her wallow on Valentine’s Day. I had to show you what you were missing.” His tone was borderline smug, and all you could do was kiss the smirk off his face. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” You’d said those words to him before, but somehow, this time, they held a little bit more weight to them. 

“I love you, too.” One more kiss. “You better go before your dad comes out here and chases me off.” Reluctantly, Steve began heading back to his car, flashing you a wave and a smile as you headed inside. 

Valentine’s Day was still overrated, but it was a bit more bearable when you had someone like Steve.

[wildsupernova]

hey everyone! just wanted to make a quick post for the people that try to keep up to date with my content and my writing regularly, or that follow me and may have forgotten i even existed lol

i know it’s been a while but i’m working on some new content i hope to get out in the next couple days. college is kicking my ass right now and i finally got some motivation back, so i’m hoping to make up for my time away. my requests are still open, as are my prompt list requests, so if you’d like to see anything specific from me, head over there or message me and make a request!

tldr: i’m back at least momentarily, and hope to get stuff out to you guys soon

[wildsupernova]

Yummy 🤤