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thornsnvultures · 1 year

Text

bending the rules

older!dilf!Steve Harrington x plus size!fem!Reader

summary: Robin convinces Steve to take a yoga class only to bail on him at the last minute.

cw: alt universe/non-canon, awkward!divorced!Steve (he's been out the game for a minute), fluff, 1.7k words

an: I have like half of a smutty bit for this fic written but it felt kind of tacked on so I left it off. if enough people enjoy this I'll post that bit later. also thank you to @hellfirehottie420 for the yoga class idea and to @ozarkthedog for gassing me up and encouraging me to keep going when I wanted to give up! It's not a big fic but we celebrate little victories here. (divider by @/saradika)

an 2: the model in the moodboard is not representative of the reader insert. there's no physical descriptions in the fic. I just didn't want anyone giving me a hard time with that "fat people can't do yoga" shit. every body is a yoga body. thank you 😌

After Steve's marriage fell through he resigned himself to never doing that again. He made a mess of things the first time around anyway. And not knowing what a happy, stable marriage looked like growing up sure didn't help either.

So when things finally imploded he took it on the chin and vowed to be the best dad he could be. He wouldn't let his failed marriage take that away from him. Dating was off the table and for a long time casual hookups were too; it never felt like the right time.

Robin had insisted on him getting out there, doing something for himself that didn't involve kids or work. Steve used to have fun, he was the king of fun! Now he was sure he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face with a bat. And he sure as hell doesn't know how he let Robin talk him into taking a yoga class at the town rec center.

She was supposed to be here, to help ease him into having some semblance of a social life, but she bailed at the last minute blaming a mix up in her schedule.

"I forgot I already told Nance I'd take her out tonight. Just go! I'll come with you next week, I promise."

Steve sighed, standing outside the classroom doors with his hands on his hips. He can see a few people milling around, chatting and rolling out mats as he hesitates there in the hallway.

"It'll be fine. Just go in, stretch out some old joints and go home. Easy. Nothing to be afraid of. You're not afraid," Steve shook his head. Standing outside and talking to himself wasn’t a good look. Not with this mustache on his face.

He looked through the windowed doors and swallowed, "It's just a room full of women in spandex. You're not a creep, it's exercise, you're here to exercise."

"First time?"

Steve nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you standing there smirking at him. Your eyebrows rise and you gesture to the rolled up mat under your arm when Steve takes a little too long to respond.

Shit, should he have brought his own mat?

"Yeah,” Steve croaks and you smile. “I mean, yes. This is the beginner's yoga class, right? My friend was supposed to do it with me but she bailed."

“Ah,” your smile falters a little but you nod and open the classroom doors leaving Steve to wonder what he said wrong.

"They have mats over there if you need one," you point to the stack on the other side of the room then introduce yourself. Steve knows he's staring at you like a hapless idiot but he successfully remembers to give you his name in return, along with an awkward handshake.

"Thank you," Steve doesn't want to let go of your hand, so warm and soft it's messing with his head. "Sorry, I'm, uh, I'm a little nervous. I haven't done anything like this since my 20s."

"What, exercise?"

Steve feels a twinge of pride at the way you glance down at his arm muscles. You furrow your brow and bite your lip and Steve knows you can tell by the way they swell under his short sleeves that you know that can't be true.

"No, I mean going out,” he shrugs, wiggling the mat in his arms, “trying something new."

"Ah," you nod your head and smile again and Steve wonders if you can hear how fast his heart's beating.

You're walking towards the front of the class now with your mat and Steve in tow, asking him what made him want to try yoga of all things. Steve admits his friend Robin had signed him up for the class and that he rarely gets out of the house these days.

“Oh, same,” you nod in understanding and Steve sighs in relief. “I’m so busy between work and going back to school that I barely have time for myself. The yoga studio is my happy place.”

Steve smiles and is about to ask you what you’re going to school for when he's stopped by the teacher suddenly clapping her hands together and calling for everyone to get settled so they can start.

"Can I?" Steve gestures at the spot next to you and you smile again.

"Absolutely."

---

The class passes in a sweaty blur. Steve thought he was in decent shape. He lifts weights in his garage at home, runs a few days a week, and generally takes care of his body. He was an athlete for god's sake, he's familiar with all that jazz. Nope. Steve nearly pulled a few muscles in his back he didn't know he had.

It also didn't help that the shorts he wore to class might've been a little too short. He hoped, for the sake of the woman behind him, that his thighs were the only things he was showing off during downward dog.

You, on the other hand, were a champ. Graceful in your movements and barely breaking a sweat. You admitted to him halfway through the class, as the teacher made her rounds correcting poses, that you usually took the more advanced class but liked to hop in on beginner class days as a refresher on basic poses.

"You're doing great!" You shoot Steve a thumbs up and he feels his face heat at your encouragement but sends a shaky thumbs up back.

Sweat lines his forehead and he pushes his flop of hair back when it falls in his face before moving on to the next pose. His glasses had slid down his face enough times that Steve stopped fussing with them and put them off to the side, but his hair he couldn't do anything about, unruly as it was.

He catches you watching him a few times, once in warrior pose when Steve accidently put the wrong foot forward and wound up facing the opposite direction as the rest of the class. The way you tried to hide your laugh when he pretended like he was surprised to see you there lit him up inside.

The next time he caught you was when he turned his head towards you while tucked in child's pose. It seemed like your eyes were on his legs, maybe checking to see if he was doing the pose right? When you realized he knew you were watching your eyes went wide. Steve smiled and you quickly turned your head back down to the mat. Maybe you weren't checking his form after all. Or maybe you were? Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. Were you just being nice or had you been checking him out too?

As class wrapped up Steve rolled up his mat and thanked the teacher for her help, promising to not only come back next week but to bring a friend too. He couldn’t wait to make Robin suffer through an hour of this. And you, he had to thank you for making tonight one of the most enjoyable nights he'd had in a long time.

"So I'll see you next week?" You adjust your bag over your shoulder. Most of the rest of the class had left but you didn't look like you were in much of a rush.

"Yeah, I'd love to. I mean, I’ll be here. I had a lot of fun."

"Glad you tried something new?"

Steve swallows at your teasing smile, suddenly feeling like "something new" didn't mean yoga anymore. His eyes drifted down to the light sheen of sweat dotting your chest and he quickly pulled his gaze away.

"Definitely."

"Good," you nodded.

You were starting to walk away. Robin would kick his ass if he didn’t make a move.

"Hey! Uh," you turn around to see Steve reaching out for your arm before pulling his hand back. He stops and scratches the back of his head. "Do you, I mean, would you like to get coffee sometime? As a thank you for…y’know, helping me with my poses."

Steve smiles and hopes he doesn’t look like a dweeb when he fidgets and pushes up his glasses.

"Walk me back to my car?"

The corner of Steve's mouth tilts up and he motions for you to hand over your gym bag. Once it’s tucked into the crook of his arm he nods towards the door at the end of the hall.

"Ladies first."

---

"You looked like a lost puppy. But honestly, it wasn't the first time I've seen a man looking intimidated outside of a yoga studio."

Steve gapes at you as you laugh.

"I was...making sure I had the right room."

"Sure, big guy," you chuckled as you patted Steve's arm.

The two of you finally reach your car and you tap the unlock button but stop before opening the door.

“Thanks for walking me.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you out here by yourself this late at night.”

A group of teens on bikes ride past the rec center a moment later, probably on their way to the well-lit basketball court on the other side of the building where a few other kids are already playing.

“Mhm. All these ruffians around. Why, a girl just doesn’t feel safe ‘round these parts anymore,” you tease in a shy southern belle accent.

Steve chuckles and ducks his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I'm glad you came tonight."

“Me too.”

Steve found himself inching closer to you as your back pressed against your car. "So will you? Get coffee with me, that is?"

You looked up at him through your pretty lashes and Steve didn't care about his age or his creaky joints or his fear of fun. He wanted to find himself again in your eyes. If you'd let him.

"What about your friend? The woman that was supposed to come with you tonight?"

"Hmm? Oh, Robin? I think she'd say you could do better," Steve grimaced, shaking his head. "Her girlfriend would say the same thing."

"Oh," you laugh into your hand. "Gotcha."

"Why'd you ask?"

"No reason. Coffee sounds great," you whisper and lift your chin to press a kiss to Steve's stubbled jaw.

He stands there in the parking lot long after you gave him your number, hastily scribbled on the back of a receipt pulled from your purse, and drove away.

He has to call Robin.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #dilf!steve harrington #older!steve harrington #older!reader #my fics #too much preamble for a relatively short fic #lol

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the-whispers-of-death · 2 months

Note

Stone being handfed by older reader..... GRRRBARKBARKBARKWOOFWOOFWOOFRAUFRAUFRRGGHHHH

his daddy issues are through the roof.

dilf reader feeding Stone slowly then using his thumb to wipe the crumbs from the corner of Stones mouth before gently ghosting his fingers over his cheek

dilf reader taking care of Stone RRRAAAAHHHHHHH

When Older!Reader had fed Stone a laddu after Stone brought him a container of hand-made laddus (Yes, Stone can bake & cook), he seriously was like "Wait, I kinda like being taken care of."

Stone has major daddy issues (he has a daddy kink) and it shows. Due to the paranoia his father instilled in him about his food or drink being drugged/poisoned, this man does not usually take food and drinks that offered to him. So, it's very much a sign of trust that he allowed Older!Reader to handfeed him (yes, he's the one who made the laddus, but he has never been fed to before, at least not that he remembers).

An older man taking care of him seems like a dream to Stone, but he desperately wants it.

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years

Text

Super-Human Resources

Steve Rogers x older!Reader continued from this ask from @nana1000night

Prompt: What if the reader is older than Steve, like...10 years maybe(?) She could see his shyness, ambition, and gentleness when they first meet. She never thought Steve would fall for her because of their age gap and she's insecure about herself...

Warnings: this is very rough for me, really dialogue-heavy and not balanced, etc. I may return to elaborate or edit, but I'm desperate to get on with the end of Dignity. I loved--loved--this dynamic and could totally see this being a bigger thing. I boiled it down to this fluffy/angsty/cute-ending thing. Some language and implied smut. Serious miscommunication.

[adorable dividers that I am obsessed with by @silkholland]

Steve sets down the tablet victoriously. “And…that’s all of the recruits, so let me know what else you’ll need to start the new hires on personnel benefits. We’ll meet back—“

He finally glances at the clock. It’s 6:40 pm and he’s been talking at you for two hours.

“Why didn’t you stop me? I’m sure you have to go home to…”

You offer him the same studied smile you always try to and gently shake your head. “I figured we could just push through and get this over with. That way you didn’t have to make another trip down here tomorrow.”

Steve frowns. “But someone must be waiting for you?”

Way to rub it in, Cap. “No,” you assure him, packing up your laptop and a few files in your old leather briefcase. “No one.”

“No plans? It’s Friday. Don’t people…what is it that people go out and do these days?”

“Alexis next door seemed pretty excited about a pub crawl a few hours ago. Though in another few hours she might regret that. Actually, she’s probably too young to really notice a hangover,” you joke, pushing out your chair when you’re ready to go.

He rushes to stand. “Then at least let me…offer you dinner here. You won’t have to—“

A hand up is all it takes to rein him in. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll be fine at home.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he jumps politely, opening your office door so that you have to squeeze past his beefy body into the empty hall. Everyone really has gone home.

He shoves his hands in his dark jean pockets, and you regulate your breathing as best you can all the way to the door.

“Beautiful bag,” Steve says just as you two reach the lobby.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Looks well-loved,” he adds softly, running one finger along the top seam.

Why is that so sensual? He’s touching a bag. Get it together.

You giggle nervously. “Yes, very—“ adjusting the strap closer on your shoulder “—it was my high school graduation gift. Sent me off to college like a real professional, but I guess that makes it…pretty old.” The flutter in your gut wavers your voice slightly. You can’t wait to leave.

“Still pretty though.” Steve looks you dead in the eyes, and your heart stops.

You gulp finally, breaking from the crystal clear blue gaze that holds you so softly in a make-believe universe for that split second. “Have a good night, sir.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes follow your movements out. “You, too.”

Even when you’re fresh and clean, the long work day washed away, the mirror doesn’t lie. You look tired, skin duller than you remember, eyes crinkling at the corners more than before, a few additional grays dusting your temples.

It’s so stupid to think of him that way, to think he’s looking at this and seeing anything he likes more than he’d find on that gorgeous young hire the next office over or that toned and bright-eyed recruit down the hall or…well, anybody, really.

Your flesh reminds you more of the stretched and worn leather of your briefcase every day. You’ve collected more products to correct you, things designed for anti-you to no avail.

But.

Even if it’s not real, even if it doesn’t mean anything, it’s so nice to be looked at by Steve Rogers. You have to remember he’s not actually interested; he’s just a gentleman raised to be kind.

He does it again. Not right away, but a few weeks later, Steve yammers on about two dozen employee ‘incidents’ that aren’t really incidents for you to handle. You can advise him on which representatives to speak with about follow-up actions with the other agents, or techniques to facilitate healthy dialogue on the subjects, but no more. Please, no more.

5:58 pm and you swear Steve has checked the clock at least three times. He has to know he’s gone over, but he also knows you have nowhere to be and no one special. Shit. That’s pathetic. You should have hinted at some sort of life outside of work.

“Pardon the interruption,” F.R.I.D.A.Y chirps over the intercom system, “but Captain Rogers, your delivery has arrived.”

“Thank you. Be right up.”

Saved by the AI. “I’ll let you get to it,” you say, smiling and rising from your seat.

“Oh, it’s just dinner. Enough for two.” He motions you to the door like before, his gaze a hair more piercing. “I…brought the pub crawl to us, if you’d like to join me?”

The air conditioning blasts into your office like the frigid arctic, but you are sweating suddenly. You’re covered from head to toe, layered to hide all those ‘indecent’ things about the aging body that no one, young or old, likes to be reminded of. Even if you were muscular with perky curves, your skin is looser and there’s a permanent crease down your chest, the wrinkle from consistently sleeping on your side at night. Higher necklines and longer sleeves became mandatory for you five years ago.

He leads you to the elevators with a light hand at the small of your back. He’s had two dozen beers, one can or bottle of each brew, sent in with an enormous tray of finger foods. You think about adding that you don’t eat that much, though it all looks good and you’d like to eat more—you don’t want to look like a pig in front of Captain America—but he eats over 80% of the tray without batting an eye.

“Metabolism,” he shrugs when your eyes go wide at his fourth full plate.

Must be nice. “I don’t remember what one of those is like,” you quip back.

You two split each beer, and while the cups are small and Steve drinks about two-thirds of them all, you’ve consumed your own six-pack by the end. Conversation became a lot lighter at some point—maybe sample four or five?—and Steve’s thrown out some candid moments about his struggles with modern life.

You agree with him about online dating: horrid. You agree it’s difficult getting to know new people when there’s an expectation of labeling everything (or not labeling anything.) Steve would not have been a free-love hippie, it seems, if he’d been awake during the ‘60s and ‘70s. It’s difficult to know what to do or say around women for him. He says it’s easier around you.

“Maturity deflates that 'pressure to impress' pretty quickly,” you chuckle, a hiccup latched at the end. Damn, is it the alcohol or the carbonation? Maybe it’s simply because there’s no pressure to be coy around someone who can’t be interested in you? Either way, you take another bit of food and forget to worry about how your midsection looks sitting in the chair comfortably, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your blouse. That A/C isn’t helping much again.

“Another drink, ma’am, or more water?”

“Makes me feel old when you call me that.”

“I say it out of respect, but it’s also. I feel like a…a teenager around you, ya know, nervous.” He slides his hand up and down his leg, blushing.

“It's alright. I’m not going to report you for treating me with respect, Steve.”

“And if I don’t?”

It’s so quiet, you’re not sure you heard right. You take a huge swig of water to justify how loudly you swallow that feeling, that sizzling longing that creeps up like kudzu, taking over your body. Liquid coats your throat, mouth, and lips, yet you’re bone dry with nothing to reply. “Don’t do what?” Did he just threaten to not treat me with respect? As in…something disrespectful? Like…sinful?? Is it a sauna in here?

“I think you’re sexy,” Steve firmly breathes.

You snort—because what else do you do in a dream that’s so ridiculous it gave itself away?—and swirl the rest of your water around, guzzling it. You’ll need to wake up to pee soon if there’re this many fluids involved. Does beer make you dream weirdly? It must if it conjures this subconscious scene. Any minute now, you’ll wake up. You’ll see.

“That’s..uh..a little inappropriate, Captain,” you glob out between clearing your throat and squirming in your chair, “but it’s a good line.”

“I can keep them to myself, my inappropriate thoughts—“ you choke and sputter for a moment, but he continues “—if that’s what you want.” Steve leans forward over his knees, eye-level with your chest and peering up through his lashes while emphasizing a rugged, “ma’am.”

Your body vibrates off of your chair and automatically steps to add some distance between you. Part of your job is anticipating problems and conflicts before they arise, but you’re blind-sided by Steve’s attention. No, can’t be. If the blood rushing past your ears is this loud, perhaps you heard wrong?

It’s a blur of blue eyes. You’re rattled by his deep timbre, coherency drowned out by fizzy, hoppy, wheat water. The moment Steve’s chest touches yours, and he leans down, thumbing at your temple with a heated palm on your cheek, you have to close your eyes to ground yourself because nothing you’re seeing can be real.

“We’re both adults,” he whispers, the words heavy and dripping down your insides to your core. “We both want the same thing, so we should just—”

“Yes.” You cut him off, crashing your lips to his.

His other hand spreads across your hip and ass.

“Show me how to please you.”

With that, Steve uses your melting gasp as an invitation to claim your mouth.

Steve Rogers really didn’t have anything to worry about. Even without extensive sexual experience, he’s a fast learner. So attentive. You throw him a bone with some advice now and then, a pointer or two, something just to show you remember the deal.

“Most women don’t like ____.”

“Some women prefer ____.”

“Not everyone will do ____.”

Steve takes it all in stride, and he also gets better and better at listening, turning the conversation back to you. Anything he likes in bed, he’s sure to check-in if it’s alright with you. He’ll make someone (or many someones, no judgement) very happy someday.

He takes your cues on giving you space so that he won’t seem clingy to a potential girlfriend. He regularly texts to ask how your day is going or has gone. Best of all, he remains stone-cold professional at work. That makes the most sense for when this arrangement needs a clean break.

Until then, the sex is unbelievable, and it’s so freeing to not worry about keeping yourself lady-like and mysterious over the weeks. You can wake up with your puffy under eyes and tangled hair. You can sit around and read in your baggy pajamas. You don’t have to hide that you do, in fact, function like any other human. You burp, you fart, you poop and pee. Sometimes you just smell. Who cares? You aren’t gross about it, but the amount of time you save not avoiding Steve while your body happens to be a body is a lot. It’s a scary amount of time you would avoid him to appear perfect. Good god, why?

You’re spoiled now. You may never bother with a real relationship again, except you know this will end eventually.

For now, you can eat and drink whatever you want around him. You can say no to things. You can tell him when you dislike something or when you’re bored or want to be alone. You can just be yourself, and it’s awesome. You can say the bad joke and stupid puns that come to mind. You can poke fun at him and laugh at his jabs at you.

It’s awesome. Honestly, get yourself a man to inoculate from womanhood. Easy-peasy, ass, and squeezy.

His ass? Oh, yeah, because…yeah. Dat ass. It’s worthy of mention and thoroughly distracting.

You’ve even had the gumption to slap it a couple of times. Whatever. He seems to like it. No big deal.

This goes on for a few months. Your time together hasn’t escalated above texting during the week and ‘lessons’ over the weekend. Steve is…well, he’s perfect, really. He won’t need you for much longer, and you’ve made your peace with that, so you’re surprised when Steve comes to your office one Tuesday morning.

“Hey,” he starts with a smile, checking over his shoulder. “Got a minute?” He motions to shut the door.

“Sure,” you shrug, “did I forget someone’s intake today?”

“No. No, nothing like that.” Steve nervously wrings his hands. “Tony’s forcing me to take vacation. He booked this whole resort thing on an island or something.”

“Ok…you probably need it. When was the last time you took time to yourself?”

His scowl suggests that’s exactly what Tony Stark said.

“It’s this weekend.”

You startle at that. “Oh. Well, no problem it’s not like—“

“You want to come?”

Now you’re speechless. Does he think he can’t handle traveling with a significant other? Does he get irritable when away and need practice handling it?

“I know it’s last minute,” he continues, “but I’d love for you to join me. You deserve a break, too.”

You agree, and suddenly realize that you haven’t vacationed in a long time for the same reason: you didn’t want to go alone.

The place is spectacular, and how did you ever doubt when you knew Tony fucking Stark booked it?!

Steve did great on the trip out, stopped at the convenience store when you forgot your motion-sickness meds, was very patient when you couldn’t lift your bag to the overhead by yourself, and walked slower than he probably thinks is humanly possible down the long terminal to the resort shuttle. His average-joe ball cap did nothing to hinder his Greek-god stature, but you both got lucky that no one openly recognized him.

He’s been fun and playful, the perfect mix of caring and care-free. He’ll make a lovely boyfriend to someone, and you’re bubbling with excitement to tell him he’s ready.

“Ready for what?” Steve smiles at you over the dinner table in the fancy, seafood restaurant in the main hotel.

“To graduate,” you chuckle, lifting the glass to toast him.

He lifts his own glass with a confused look. “What exactly am I graduating from?”

You take another sip of champagne in triumph. Eh, so you’ve had a few glasses. Who cares? You made Steve Rogers into perfect boyfriend material, and he’ll be comfortable with himself that way from now on.

“What do I call it,” you muse, “my little School of Sexual Awakening? Ha!” You’re so funny, but you have to do better. Steve doesn’t get the joke yet. “I mean, it’s a good thing, Steve. You’re going to make someone very happy after this.”

His face drops like a stone.

“What,” he deadpans.

“I know. I know you’re probably nervous, but you really are ready. You just gotta bite the bullet and put yourself out there—“

“But…I’m with you.”

“No, like a real relationship, with someone you’re actually interested in.“

He’s silent, so silent the murmuring of other patrons seems to get sucked into the dense void of noise around his intense glare

“I’m sorry,” Steve says in a voice deeper than usual. “What do you think we’ve been doing?”

“Practicing. Getting you ready to get back out there in the modern dating world.”

“We’re…” Steve puts down his glass so carefully that his delicacy might be the thing that breaks it. “We’re not dating?”

You’re starting to think the alcohol has made you less understandable.

“Well, we…you wanted practice. You were feeling uncomfortable around women and worried about trying online dating. You didn’t want to go through a bunch of beginnings of relationships without knowing how to sustain them, right, so we…”

“Started dating because I’m comfortable with you.”

Yeah, but not like that. That’s not funny. He’s not great with the jokes yet, you remind yourself.

“Right, so there was little to no pressure because we’re both adults.”

“—fairly certain that’s still true—” His steel gaze is hardened and unwavering.

“And that since we both wanted...ya know, to feel good and less uncomfortable…then we should just…”

“Date,” he interjects.

“…fuck,” you finish. “Wait. What?”

“I was saying we should date when you kissed me.” Steve adjusts stiffly in the thin dining room chair, and hiss-whispers across the table, "have you been pity fucking me this whole time?!"

Even though you’re brain grinds to a halt, your skin crawls and your insides burn. Your legs start moving without your ok. They’re racing down the stone path to your shared hut so fast that Steve has to jog to keep up, but he has the decency not to speak until you’re both behind the closed door of the bungalow.

“You…you’ve gotten better at flirting with the girl’s in my department.” Talking with your hands doesn’t seem to be helping you process this any faster; it’s just a nice way to burn off some of this terror.

“I talk to other women, yeah.” He looks a lot calmer than you. He’s not shaking and pacing around. “It’s easier to when I can politely say I’m seeing someone. I thought I was taken. I never flirted with anyone other than—well, NOT you, apparently.”

“You’re serious???”

Steve needs to learn the finer points of a joke if he thinks this is a good one. He starts yelling back anyway.

“Why do you think I am not serious? What makes you think that’s all this was?”

“You wanted practice! You said so.”

“No,” he quits screaming, “I wished I had more practice before finding someone I wanted—” Steve blushes ferociously “—so I wouldn’t feel…unsure about…you know. We are—I mean, I thought we were dating.”

You have to laugh. “Steve, you don’t want to date me.”

“I have been for months.” He’s getting closer.

“No, but I’m…I’m…You can’t…I wouldn’t have…We were having fun. I thought I was…like a stepping stone or something.”

His arms reach out as if to grab your shoulders, but he makes no contact. “We had fun. As a couple. Why would I use you for anything else?!”

“I’m average, Steve. I’m old!”

“I’m a hundred and five.”

You slap his arms away. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Currently, I’m convinced I have never known what you mean.”

“It’s not funny!”

“That we can agree on,” Steve bites back.

“It’s not funny,” you repeat through tears.

“Sweetheart,” Steve tries with sympathetic eyes, “why? Did I not make you feel loved? You thought I didn’t want you? How?!”

“Because.” It’s the only word that will come out as he takes you in hand and pulls you to his chest. Everything reels around you. It’s not your fault. You were protecting yourself. You were being logical and friendly. You were helping him out. You were genuine but…completely guarded in the most important way.

“So I have a couple of essential questions.” Steve brushes his thumb over that gray patch at your temple. “Any chance you’d like to date me?” He huffs at the whine and frown drawn from you. “I should specify. This would be real dating, where neither of us is flirting with—“

You shove at his chest indignantly. He plants a kiss on your forehead in response.

“—or dating other people, and we are both actively aware that we are, in fact, dating each other. Do you want that?”

You roll your face deeper into his chest, nodding.

“Ok, and any chance that before having an actual, real-life, both-of-us-knowing-we-are-dating-each-other first date you’d agree to live in this room with me for three days?”

That earns him a real slap to the side, and eventually, several slaps to his glorious tush.

“Just because I behaved like you were every other man I know…”

“It’s cute,” he whispers, “in a slightly insulting way, but it’s cute.”

A long hug follows, one where you both lean in and hold tight. He plants another kiss to your forehead every time you snuggle further.

“Now…” Steve lets the word rumble around in his chest. He knows what that deep sound does to you. You said all women would like that, so he plans to reserve it for only you. “May I prove how much I want you, ma’am?”

If you enjoyed this work, please consider liking, commenting, and/or reblogging. Thank you for reading!

SR Taglist: @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fallinallinmendes @im-a-slut-for-fluff

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a-constant-gay-panic · 2 years

Text

Babysitter

masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x older fem!reader

summary: steve has been babysitting your kids for quite some time now. he’s tried to stop and he knows it’s not right but over time, he’s developed feelings for you. even if you are technically still married.

warnings: swearing, legal age gap (both individuals are of age), divorce, cheating, slight sexual tension, very short steamy moment, fluff with a sprinkle of angst

word count: 2.5k

a/n: the steve fic that no one asked for but i wanted to make :) enjoy this ig?

disclaimer: i don’t fully know how divorces work and the whole legal routes of things so forgive me if there are some mistakes please-

(yes, your kids' names are arabella and alice. yes, they’re both inspired by songs. ‘arabella’ by arctic monkeys and ‘living next door to alice’ by smokie. i like them both so deal with it. but i also apologies if your name is eric or jennifer-)

— — — — — X — — — — —

“steve?” you call from your room, giving yourself a last once-over. you’re about to leave for court, finally about to discuss who gets custody of your children.

you get no response from the man in question and stand, ready to leave your room and get the show on the road. making your way downstairs, you hear your daughters, arabella and alice, squealing and giggling.

entering the living room, you’re greeted by the sight of steve harrington, your long-time babysitter, pulling faces and chasing your girls all around the place. he makes a roaring sound as he scoops arabella up and tickles her, causing alice to screech and grab a pillow, rushing to rescue her twin.

you smile at the sight of him and your kids, heart melting at their bond.

as if he can feel your presence, steve turns around, eyes comically wide and your daughters follow suit. you frown playfully at them but your serious demeanour soon cracks as you burst out laughing at the 3.

“anyone ever told you, you act like a kid, harrington?” you question as you walk further into the living room. “a few.” he says with a small laugh before his breath hitches slightly in his throat as he takes in your attire, the pantsuit you’re wearing complimenting all your features just right, causing his imagination to spiral.

“where are you going, momma?” alice’s voice is small as she looks over your neat outfit. “i’m going out now. that’s why steve is here, sweetheart.” you kneel down so you’re her height. “out where?” arabella asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

you sigh and look down, not sure how to approach the topic.

“you know how your dad hasn’t been around for a while now?” the two of them nod. “well, momma is going to go discuss a few things with him about it.” you explain carefully and they “ohh” and “ahh” at your words. it’s not a secret per say, but you've never told them exactly what's going on.

you had tried to avoid the subject but you knew you’d have to tell them eventually. part of you knew that you didn't want to talk about it due to your own embarrassment, after all, how is someone supposed to get over the fact that their partner cheated on them with someone who’s barely an adult?

yes, that's right, your bastard of a husband, went and slept with his 20 year old intern. cliché right? well to make it more stereotypical, his intern also happened to be his friend's daughter but you weren’t going to get into that.

the realisation when you saw a pair of underwear, which didn’t belong to you, under your bed was enough to make your blood boil. the anger and embarrassment being too much. you often suspected at times that he was cheating but you never had any proof so you decided to play it off.

you had quite literally kicked him out that night, screaming profanities at him and his mother while he blabbered about it being a mistake before slamming the door in his face.

you were livid. you weren't one for disloyalty so the day after the incident, you called your lawyer and soon enough, the divorce was being set into place.

now there you were, kneeling in front of your angels, telling them simply that their father wasn’t going to be around much longer. of course, you weren’t being completely honest with them. the court session was about custody over the kids but you didn’t want to worry them, choosing to rather hide some information for their sake.

looking at them, you can’t stop the tears forming in your eyes, worry clouding your mind. you pull them both in for a hug in an attempt to hide your expression but steve sees your pained look.

you make eye contact with him and he mouths the words, “are you ok?” you smile sadly at him and release your girls from your embrace, telling them to go play in their room while you speak to steve.

“but we wanna play!” alice pouts and arabella follows her actions soon after. “and you can. in your room. momma has some grown up things to tell steve.” you say with a smile.

once the two are out of earshot you can’t help but fall onto the couch, eyes stinging once more.

“hey, what’s the matter?” steve asks softly. you shake your head and look at him, a scared and defeated look on your face. “well my divorce papers are going well but there's still a possibility the girls will be split up or that i won’t get custody of either of them. i know it's unlikely, but still… it scares me.”

“shit… i had no idea you and eric were splitting up.”

‘lie.’

you thought. there was no way he didn’t know. he’s sure to have heard the countless fights and the cruel words you would mutter to your, soon to be ex, husband.

“it’s nice of you to pretend to be oblivious but we both know you were aware of our relationship.” the smile on your face has no trace of humour. “i’m sorry…” is all he says. you scoff and shake your head. “no need to apologise. it was only a matter of time. hell, the only reason i married him was because the thought of me having children with a man i wasn’t married to was too ‘taboo’ for my parents.” you admit.

steve sinks into the couch next to you, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from him. “don’t worry so much, ok? i’m sure things will work out… hopefully the court will see what a dick he is.”

you laugh at his words, grateful for his company now more than ever. you turn and see him already looking at you but instead of him averting his eyes like he usually does when he’s caught looking at you, he keeps the eye contact. you stare back and silently admire him. his eyes, the ghost of a smile still on his lips, the way his hair frames his face, him.

there was no denying that steve harrington was a gorgeous man, you’d always thought so. you had to stop yourself from making any moves or giving any signs of attraction, not only due to the couple year age gap and the fact you were technically his boss, but also because at the time and even now, you were still married by law and if you were to get caught, the amount of trouble it would cause is huge.

you snap out of it when you see him inching closer. quickly averting your eyes, you look at your watch and see that if you didn’t hurry, you’d be late.

“i should go… don’t have much time left.” you mumble as you get up, walking towards the door and grabbing your bag. steve coughs to cover his embarrassment and stands, following you. “yeah… i’ll see you later.” he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as he watches you open the door and step out, shouting a, “bye darlings, i’ll be back soon!” and getting a, “see you!” in return.

you laugh slightly and look at steve. “call me if anything happens, alright?” he nods, “of course. good luck.”

the last image you see before driving off to the court house is steve standing in the doorway, alice and arabella on either side of him, all 3 waving.

the sight is enough to raise a lump in your throat, regretting not giving your girls a father like steve.

— — — — — X — — — — —

you grip the steering wheel tightly, blood boiling as you drive back to your house. the images surfacing in your mind coming and going with a vengeance.

“y/n.” your teeth grit together at his voice. turning around you plaster a fake smile on your face even if you’re throwing up inside.

there, in front of you, is eric and his new toy, jennifer. you cringe at their choice of attire; black leather makes up everything. “you realise this is a court, not a drug deal, right?” the venom in your voice is prominent and it causes a few eavesdroppers to glance at the 3 of you before muttering to each other.

“well at least we know the meaning of fashion.” jennifer fires back and you mentally facepalm. “you have no idea how childish that sounds…” you mutter to yourself. “how about you leave the talking to the grown-ups, ok?” you mock a little bit louder.

eric snickers and you look at him confused. “i almost forgot how much fire you have inside you.”

his words send shivers down your back, and not the good kind. jennifer glares at him and then you, not knowing who to be mad at in that moment.

“let’s just get this over already.” you spit out, hands curling into fists as annoyance and disgust creeps into your mind.

soon enough you’re walking out, head high and a weight lifted from your shoulders. that is, until jennifer grabs your arm, forcing you to turn around. “what do you want?” you ask, boredom written on your face. “you think you’re so big, huh?” she glares.

pulling your arm from her grasp, you scoff. “what are you going on about now?” “just because you got to keep your little brats, doesn’t mean you’re any better than us.”

you laugh at the absurdity of her words. “i’m pretty sure it does make me better. besides, what do you care? it’s not like you ever wanted to be around them.” she laughs, “seems as if you’re forgetting that they’re not just your kids. they’re eric’s too. it’s pathetic how you got custody when he’s clearly more fit for the job.”

you were officially pissed. it’s not because your feelings were hurt, oh no, but it was the sheer delusion she had that you weren’t good enough to raise your kids.

you glare at her and take a step closer, forcing her to take one back and look up at you due to the height difference. “listen here, say whatever the fuck you want about me but never, and i mean never, imply that i’m incapable of caring for my children.”

you see a flash of fear in her eyes but she quickly covers it with another short laugh. “you couldn’t even keep your husband and yet here you say that you’re able to look after them? that’s rich. we all know i was better for eric and i’d be better for the two bitches-”

a loud noise is heard as your hand collides with her face, the force so hard it turns her head completely.

“say that again and i swear to god i’ll do worse than slap you. all you are is a bitch who hides behind empty promises and words, knowing that someone is bound to save you but look around, there’s no one here to save you now, is there?” you whisper menacingly.

you look behind her and see eric staring at the two of you, cigarette in mouth and a disgusting smirk on his face. “i suggest you run back home, kid, before things get messy.” you hiss, head jerking towards the smirking asshole.

you give both of them one last glare before climbing in your car and driving off.

— — — — — X — — — — —

you slam your car door closed and stalk up to the front door. before you’re able to unlock it, steve is already opening it with a smile. “hey! how did it go…?” he trails off slightly as you storm inside, throwing your bag on the floor and your coat on a chair.

“good. i got custody of both the girls.” you say simply, jerking a few buttons of your shirt open as you try to cool down. steves eyes search the newly exposed skin but he quickly stops himself before he gets carried away.

“what’s wrong then?” he asks and you sigh in annoyance and anger. “eric’s 'new love'," you start, sarcasm dripping from your words, "decided to, not only insult my ability to keep a man, but also my ability to properly care for my own kids.” you’re seething and turn to finally look at steve.

you lock eyes again and an idea passes through your mind, a thought which you weren't able to stop in time. you aren’t sure if it’s the anger which pulses through your veins or if it’s the way he looks right then and there, but you find yourself quickly closing the distance and kissing him, giving in to your impulsions.

his eyes widen as your lips crash onto his but they soon close as he relaxes, almost immediately responding to your advances. your hands tangle in his hair and his do the same, roaming freely as your tongue forces its way into his mouth. just before things could go any further, a squeal reaches your ears.

“i told you!”

you and steve quickly let go of each other and see alice and arabella at the bottom of the stairs. alice is smiling widely while arabella frowns, arms folded with an upset look on her face.

“pay up!” alice says in a sing-song voice and you and steve watch in amusement and confusion as arabella pulls out a sweet from her pocket and hands it to her twin. “goddammit!” her voice is frustrated and steve can’t help but to burst out laughing at the serious exclamation of anger from her.

“hey, hey, hey! language!” you scold. she looks at you and folds her arms, “you say worse.” “don’t sass me, little one. i’m an adult, you’re not.” you find yourself trying your hardest to not laugh at the way she’s standing. she's a total drama queen at heart.

alice and steve are dying with laughter at the interaction and you watch in awe as steve picks alice up to hide his face which is streaming with tears from laughing so much.

soon enough you and arabella join in, the whole mock situation soon defusing.

you pick arabella up and her and alice hold hands, forcing you and steve to stand close to each other as they whisper secrets to each other.

you look at steve and smile. he blushes and speaks softly, “so are we going to talk about what happened…?” you make as if you’re thinking before saying, “nah.” his face falls and you laugh again before telling him that you’re joking.

“we’ll discuss it later. either in here or in my room. all depends what sort of ‘discussion’ you want.” you smile cheekily at him. “how about we go from here to the discussion in your room?” he asks and you smirk at him. leaning closer you whisper, “sounds like a plan.” you gently place your lips on his and the children in your arms squeal again.

“gross!” “don’t be rude bella!” “but it’s gross!” arabella defends herself. “no it’s not! they’re in love!” alice counters, hands cupping her face to add to the effect. her words make you and steve blush together.

“so… is steve going to sleep on dad's side of the bed now?” alice asks innocently.

“alice!” steve bursts out laughing at your shocked expression and you can't help but look at him lovingly.

“tell you what. if your mom says i can be, then i will.”

you stare at the 3 of them adoringly, nodding slightly as steve kisses you once more.

you were bubbling with delight, knowing that your kids finally have a good father figure in their lives and that you might've found someone who loves you for you. someone who you definitely feel the same for.

— — — — — X — — — — —

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #fem!reader #older!reader #mother!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #angst #fluff #older!fem reader

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hoonvrs · 10 months

Text

NOONA — EP3: #SNOWAPPDIE

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LAST S. NOTES: can’t believe noona is now actually at an end 💔 thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged and commented i really do appreciate it especially since this is my first work here 🫂 probably won’t be my last smau cause i enjoyed this waayyyy too much

anyways i’m bad at this THANK YOU TO EVERYBODDYYY even if you started reading recently ily all MWAH 💋 ( if anyone finds me a man like hoon tell me ASAP !! )

going to miss our fave liverboy and livergirl v much☹️

SYNOPSIS: park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.

TAGLIST (CLOSED) @calijimenez @invusblog @astrae4 @lalalalawon @sserafimez @sfthyuka @miercerise @sasfransisco @annoyingbitch83 @pshchives @dazed-hee @sd211 @makiswrld @lovelypitasworld @kyuupidwrites @jangw2nyo @beansworldsstuff @shinrjj @mariji @shinsou-rii @curly-fr13s @homelycat @seungcheolswife @ilovewonyo @tinyegg @whippedforbeomgyu @adajoemaya @rikisly @sunoo-lvxr @strvlveera @myjaeyunn @meiiiwa @dazedgye @dimplewonie @sxftiell @plasmaticoo @iirene304 @captain-satan @pkjay @j-wyoung @diestheticu @chaeey @rodygr @enhy4me2 @officiallyjaehyuns @liliansun @the-poetic-side-of-me @jjangsims @dudufodd @heeswif3y @yawnzshit @4imhry @stinkoscope (bold couldn’t be tagged)

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year

Text

Love in a Ghost Town: Part 5--Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

Eddie Munson’s become content with working his day job. After the crazy stretching of events from 1983-1986, Eddie’s grateful for a little bit of normal in his life.

That is until one day, Valeria Browns shows up in town looking for a quick car fix. And she’s more than he might’ve bargained for on the eve of Valentine’s Day. Valeria is just trying to enjoy her Valentine’s Day weekend after many years of being perpetually single. She has her fun, but it’s never serious. Maybe Eddie can change some of that.

Older!Mechanic!Eddie Munson. 2003 alternative universe. BlackFem! OC.

The Upside Down doesn’t exist in this fic. But strange things do happen to the town of Hawkins, Indianna. Major Character Death that is not canon as a result of the non-Upside Down AU.

Feel free to view my masterlist here

CW: Implied Self-Harm & Depression within the chapter. If you are sensitive to these topics, please proceed with caution.

Edited Picture of Eddie is from @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

__________________________________

“When did you do all this?” Eddie flops down into the chair at the dining room table.

Valera has plates set out already alongside placemats, forks, knives, spoons, cups. It’s stuff she’d found in the cabinet and drawers. A habit of hers when she’s hosting others, ensuring that the table was always set to perfection. A habit garnered from her grandmother’s raising. Valeria would rather be caught dead ass out than have her grandmother find out she’d cooked for someone and didn’t properly set the table. She hadn’t thought it was too much but now she worries it’s a little over the top. She can’t do anything about it now. It’s done. The table’s set.

“There’s a lot of hours between two and seven,” Valeria shrugs.

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?”

“Baked chicken, yellow rice, roasted asparagus to avoid too much of a slimy texture. The chicken still needs like ten more minutes. I put it in right before getting you.”

Eddie whistles, a wiggle to his brows. “I thought we’d said thank you already.”

“There’s no strings on this, Eddie. It’s just--I wanted to do something nice.”

The words halt Eddie. He’d been peeling himself out of the coveralls, one arm free and then he stopped. Now he’s stuck between pulling his other arm free and letting it reside inside of the sleeve. “No strings? There’s always strings,” Eddie whispers.

Valeria shakes her head. The words burn on her tongue: You deserve nice things just because. Not because you can give something. But Valeria swallows it down. She’d pushed that button once before and it hadn’t gone well. “I’m not-I’m sorry if I overstepped. Food will be done soon.”

It’s all Valeria can say. It’s all she should say; anything more and she’d be picking a fight. So Valeria turns back to the stove. The rice and asparagus were covered before Valeria left. They’re still warm as far as she can tell. From the hallway, Valeria can hear the shower start up. There’s nothing to do but wait. So Valeria sits, nails clicking as she works through what should happen next. Should she further apologize? She hadn’t meant to imply anything. It wasn’t in her mind that more might be implied.

“I’m sorry.”

Valeria lifts her gaze and Eddie stands, hair wet on his shoulders, arms folded across his chest. Valeria exhales her words, “I should’ve asked first. If it was okay.”

He shakes his head. “It is. It is okay. I just--I shouldn’t have assumed.”

The chicken shaped timer shrills between them. Valeria goes to stand up but Eddie stops her with a raise of his head. He shuffles over, turns the oven off and pulls out the baking sheet. There’s another stretch of silence between them, just the click of the metal pan against the top of the stove.

“You were right,” Eddie states. “I do dismiss myself. Because it’s easier. I have a lot of people who do care about me. But I never know what to do with it. I guess I’m so used to people wanting something from me. It’s easier if they want something you know. I can give that.”

“But if no one wants something?” Valeria asks.

Eddie pushes away from the stove. “I don’t know how to do that. People who just want me. Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, the kids--they all sort of force themselves into my life. It’s easier if people force it. To choose it? No, not going to happen. I want it. But I can’t. I can’t choose that.”

“Can’t choose it?” Valeria probes. His eyes are misty again. Now she sees it. It’s fear. Eddie is terrified of what it means to let himself choose to let someone in.

“When people force their way in, they already care. They don’t care if you don’t believe it.”

“So you’re scared? You’re scared to let someone in.”

“People leave. Either they die or they choose to leave. If I choose someone and they leave me--what would have been the point?”

“To have loved and to have been loved.”

Eddie’s face shows how much he doesn’t believe Valeria’s words. And it makes sense. Why would Eddie ever believe her? She’s just a stranger. Sometimes Valeria doesn't halfway believe the words herself. “Sounds like you might’ve found my stash,” Eddie huffs. It sounds like it’s meant to be a laugh but it’s humorless in all reality as it falls from his throat.

Valeria holds her hands up in defense. “I just have one question, Eddie. I swear I don’t really want to argue with you. But I’m curious about one thing.”

Eddie gestures for her to continue. “What’s that one thing?”

“Do you actually want someone to change your mind? Do you want someone to convince you to give love a shot? Or are you just looking for someone to pity you? To give you what you want--a fuck when you want it, but never forcing you to confront your fears?”

It’s a heated stare. Valeria pushes up from the table. She’d pushed the envelope. It would probably blow up in her face. But Valeria’s prepared for the fire. Will this be the actual death sentence? Wouldn’t it just be fitting not to die by being a new face in a small town but by being an asshole who doesn’t know when to give up?

“You don’t fight fair,” Eddie quips. “You really don’t fight fucking fair. One more question my ass. Don’t want to argue--fuck off with that.”

It’s true anger. But Valeria doesn’t think it’s going to get her into a physical altercation. Valeria doesn’t even think Eddie would raise a fist, or his voice. He might curse her out but he’s remained in front of the stove the entire time. Valeria crosses the kitchen, nudging Eddie out of the way with her hip. He goes, willingly, sliding down so he’s in front of the sink. “Is it not a fair question?”

Eddie exhales hard. “What do you want to drink?”

“Just going to take water, from the tap,” Valeria returns, plating the chicken breasts for them.

“It’s a fair question,” Eddie admits, staring down at his plate of food. They’d set the rest of the table in utter silence. Eddie seethed. Valeria held her smug grin. And now, sitting down, it’s like the food is the mirror Eddie can actually face. Maybe looking Valeria in the face, having her voice the question was a double whammy. Someone who had wanted the fun time, but also to be nice--the two weren’t mutually exclusive for her, but they were for Eddie.

“I don’t like that you asked it,” Eddie admits, stabbing at the piece of chicken on his plate with his fork. “But it is a fair question.”

“So besides me, how was the rest of your day?” Valeria asks.

“You were the highlight and also the pain in my ass. The donuts were much appreciated today; thanks.”

“We call that the two-for-one special.”

Eddie snorts, working down his bite before he speaks. “You make it up to the mall?”

Valeria nods. She’s gotten direction from Robin after dropping off the candy. A mall is a mall--when one’s visited one of them, they’ve seen them all. It doesn’t help that Valeria works most of her days in one. “Can I say any mall has lost its charm?”

“Your store is in a mall?” Eddie asks.

“Sure is.”

“So would I be right in assuming you most definitely did not step foot into The Gap here then?”

“Oh, dear Eddie, you would be so correct in that assumption.”

“I’ll put a word in with the mall’s board of directors to get something else in there for you,” Eddie teases.

“It’s appreciated.”

The conversation slows from there. Eddie compliments the food, but there’s a clear focus on actually consuming the food in front of them. Valeria’s shocked by how hungry she is considering how little she did in the day. But perhaps, it’s coupled in with the fact that she’d normally have eaten by now, or at least had more in the way of snacks. Valeria had gotten a little side tracked in the mall, rifling through some CD’s. It was worth the time suck as she’d scored a few albums that she needed to replace. Her copies were scratched and skipping terribly, but still the scouring cost time.

Valeria finishes her food first, but remains seated to wait for Eddie. When his fork and knife clink against the plate, Valeria stands. Eddie pushes up immediately after her. “I’ll wash the dishes,” he states. “I think it’s the least I can do after all this.”

Valeria considers the envelope fully pushed, but not burst. She won’t risk it. Instead she nods, and starts to assemble the dishes, wiping them clean, scraping off the remnants of food, packaging up what’s left. The water of the sink is the loudest noise around them until Valeria goes to shower.

________________________

The TV casts a blue glow over the living room. The couch sinks just a little with the weight of Valeria and Eddie, but it’s comfy. Valeria forfeited her guest privileges on picking the channel. She knew her obsessions with reality TV may not be well received and she really didn’t care what was on. Eddie settled on Cold Case. A shocking happy medium between the two of them. When Eddie glanced over, Valeria nodded, making a comment on how she always tried her best to keep up. It leaves them here, both post showers as Valeria digs into the bowl of popcorn they’re sharing. Both of them have eyes trained onto the TV as long as the show is on.

“You seeing anyone?” Eddie questions during a commercial break.

“Blunt,” Valeria snorts. But she’s sort of glad for the question. At least Eddie doesn’t seemingly hate her.

“I’m doing research,” Eddie returns, grabbing a fistful of popcorn.

“No,” Valeria answers with a shake of her head. “Not anymore.”

“Which explains the single’s trip near Valentine’s Day. Want to talk about it?”

Valeria looks over to Eddie now, turning away from the TV screen. He’s already looking at her, up through his lashes. “Classic story--one that starts with drinks at a bar, ends with cheating.”

“Sorry he was dick.”

“There were a lot of signs prior that I shouldn’t let her go. Just didn’t listen. Went on a little parade of enjoying people, whomever came my way.”

Eddie snorts, “Pun intended?”

Valera takes a sip at her glass--a Coke that Eddie insisted on putting in the wine glass just for her after she declined the alcohol. “You tell me.”

“I’m going to say yes.” Eddie moves the bowl to the table, taking a hand to his hair. He then pulls it all back and takes the hair elastic from his wrist to pile the hair into a bun and secure it. “Are you looking for anything now? Relationship? Just sex?”

“I’m not getting younger,” Valeria admits.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Valeria swats at Eddie’s arm. He doesn’t dodge the hit, just takes it and when his hair is secure, brings the bowl of popcorn back into his lap. She shakes her head no at the invitation of the extended out bowl and then continues on, “I used to think I could just wait it out, you know? I’d find someone for me when I was supposed to. Most of my friends are married or have children. Not sure if I’m doing something wrong or if the right person hasn’t come along just yet.”

“You’re a catch! Albeit pushy, but still a good person! I’m sure everyone’s drooling over you.”

“Everyone includes you and Robin, hmm?” Valeria teases.

Eddie groans, his cheeks turn a little pink. “That is so fucking embarrassing. But it is what it really is. I just mean anyone would be lucky to date you. From the limited exposure I have of course.”

“Everyone’s sweeter in smaller doses,” Valeria quips. “Part of me is worried. I did think I’d be married by now. With at least one kid.”

Eddie whistles at the confession. “How many do you want?”

“Just two,” Valeria answers. “What about you?”

“Thought I’d be dead at 30, so I guess I’m more shocked I’ve still got years left on this planet than anything.”

“Thought you’d be dead at 30? Or?” Valeria doesn’t want to say it. The scars on his forearms could’ve been from anything. But a few trailed closer to his wrist. Valeria’s not intimately familiar, but she does know.

“Or,” Eddie answers, turning to face Valeria again. “Or in my case.”

He doesn’t offer more and Valeria doesn’t ask for it. Instead there’s just their shared gaze, a silence that seems to know everything that they don’t say. Someone found him. Something in the universe kept him alive. The TV’s clearly switched back to the show. But they don’t break eye contact.

“I think,” Eddie starts, head tilting to the side just a little. “I think I’d start with one kid and I managed not to fuck that one up, I’d go for a second one. Having a sibling seems like it’s not such a terrible experience.”

“My uncles told me they’re sad I’m the only kid. They have many stories about literally beating the shit out of each other and then if someone else got into the mix immediately shifting gears and throwing blows at the new person. I guess you could say the only person-when you have siblings-that can pick on you is your sibling. Nothing quite like it.”

Eddie snorts. “If looking after Red and Dustin and their friends proves anything like parenthood for teens at least, maybe I’m good without it.”

“Looking after?”

“She lives out in the trailer park too. Dad left when she was younger. Mom’s in and out of her life now that’s older. Steve used to babysit. Can you believe that? He used to babysit Dustin when Ms. Claudia absolutely needed it. Steve, I think, is fond of the whole group but him and Dustin have something I don’t think I’ve seen with anyone else. Dustin’s dad passed away right after he was born. Steve and Dustin are the closest things to siblings without being blood related. As Dustin made friends, he’d rope Steve into their antics when Dustin knew he couldn’t ask his mother. So Steve becomes a big brother to Dustin in a way and then by extension like a mother hen. Robin and Steve meet Scoops.”

“Ice cream shop?” Valeria questions.

“Yeah. In the old mall before it burned down. Robin and I knew each other from middle school and were sort of close. But she landed in the band geeks and I landed as cult leader, supposedly. But we sort of ran in different circles. She and I would catch up occasionally. We’d talked shit about Steve and how he used to be back in high school.”

“Jock, untouchable,” Valeria tacks on.

“Exactly. But then Robin would tell me about how Steve was with the kids. I needed to see that shit for myself. So Robin knew Steve’s taking the kids to the state fair and I decided that’s my chance to see Mother Hen Steve in action. I ‘accidentally’ run into them. There’s like eight thousand kids hanging from Steve.”

Valeria snorts. “If I do my math right, I’m only counting four.”

“Will had passed by then. So there’s Lucas, Mike, Dustin, Red, and Erica. Erica is Lucas’ younger sister.”

“So five, not eight thousand.”

“Details, details, Valeria.” Eddie swats his hand in front of his face as if to clear the cloud of details out of the way. “You’re asking an ancient being to do some hard math here. Anyway, that’s how I meet the kids. Dustin finds out I DM Dungeons and Dragons and wants to know everything about the current campaign. This little snot is like eight, nine max. But he wants to know so I cave. I brought him very occasionally after school to some sessions to drop in as a playable character. When he wasn’t there, I had to pick him up so we could chat about what happened. Again, none of this shit really matters. But it’s during this state fair that I realize Red lives a few trailers off so I drop her off.

“Ever since then I’ve sort of just kept my eye out on her. Give her rides to school if her Mom was gone or just not in any state to drive. Sometimes I’d pick her up. Learned to do a mean fishtail braid for her. I mean, I’m good--pigtails, french braids, fishtails, I got it.”

“We’ll know if you got it if you can do a cornrow.”

Eddie takes a glance in the direction of her nails, pointing the braids tight to her scalp. He grins. “I’m a fast learner, that’s for sure. But yeah, between her and Wayne, I was sort of just in caretaker mode. Have been for a while.”

“Sounds like at 30 you were really just looking for someone to take care of you after what you started doing for her and Wayne.”

It’s at that--another observation that Valeria sees so plainly and feels ballsy enough to utter that makes Eddie crack. He looks down to the space between them. The shared blanket holds the shape and bend of Valeria’s knee, the flat of the couch cushion, and the beginning of Eddie’s thigh. There’s just inches between them.

“Did it again, didn’t I?” Valeria asks.

“I’m starting to think you’re my Robin,” Eddie laughs. It’s a little bit more wet with humor. Most likely, it’s the tears that are filling his lower lash lines that Valeria spots that make his voice thicker.

“I’m lost in the sauce,” Valeria whispers. “Is this a good thing?”

“Robin and Steve--they’re like bookends. They just get each other. Not a lot of effort. Like you sort of get me. And the more you get me, the more I get you.”

“Maybe I am your Robin. But I’d hate to know what you think about me. I know it’s not all pretty.”

“I think you like helping others so you don’t actually have to confront whatever it is that’s going on with you. It’s easier to help others than help yourself.”

Valeria huffs. “You’re not wrong.”

“If it wasn’t just the deaths of your parents, I’m sure it’s definitely something else alongside it. There is an extensive history with cops though. Enough so that you don’t like them and the place you lived after your parent’s death, was it the dealer? That you mentioned earlier?”

“If we’re playing BINGO, you’ve got a ‘B’ and an ‘I’. Looking for the whole word?”

Eddie places a hand on Valeria’s knee over the blanket, giving in a squeeze. “I’m sure I’d get some of it wrong. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not about him,” Valeria confesses. Definitely not about him. Valeria’s sure he’s the spot in her life that everything sort of unraveled for her. She wanted him. He wanted her. But she knew it was bad. Didn’t mean it stopped her. She’d still snuck out when she could at night. She still danced in the fire. She still got burned, staring down barrels she shouldn’t have been looking down. Still got covered in blood she shouldn’t have been covered in. Blood that maybe would’ve still been spilled--she had no hands in who owed who what kind of money. But still, Valeria was supposed to go to a sleepover and she hadn’t. She instead became a witness.

“Hey, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to,” Eddie reassures.

His palms are warm. Valeria follows that warmth and slowly blinks back to the living room. The TV. The show. The popcorn. Eddie.

“Welcome back,” Eddie laughs.

“Hi,” Valeria whispers.

“You good?”

She can only manage another nod, for a moment. Her voice is soft. “You’re close. Not him, but my ex used to say I don’t let others help too easily. She said it made her feel like I didn’t trust her. And I did trust her. Up until a point.”

“When you suspected cheating?”

Valeria nods. “Intuition can be a bitch sometimes.”

“But it can save us too. Too damn good at it at times.”

“Dustin?” Valeria questions. “Did he save you both times?”

Eddie nods. It’s slow to come--the nodded confession. Eddie’s jaw falls open, but nothing comes out. He closes it once, exhales deeply. His second attempt to get the words out is just as silent as the first. Just as Valeria can work up the nerve to tell Eddie doesn’t have to go there, he’s speaking again. Third time really is the charm. His palms are still cupping her cheeks. “What can I say? Kid’s got killer instincts. If you’re looking for the full word, I think you got bingo ages ago.”

Valeria shakes her head. “I only think I’m up to the ‘G’. Occasionally, I can fight fair.”

“Only occasionally, I bet. Right?”

“When it’s fair to do so.”

Eddie snorts. “It’s fair all the time to do it.”

Valeria only shrugs. “It’s like you said, I didn’t grow up in a nice part of town. Only fight fair when it’s the fair thing to do. And most of the time, it’s not. Someone else always has the advantage.”

Eddie’s hands disappear under the blanket. Valeria’s watching, but her gaze is out of focus. Not much has come to her in the form of advantage. When fingers find the bend of her knee and tug, she gives in, sliding herself across the cushion. Now her chest pressed into Eddie’s arm. He’s quick to sling the arm pressed into her around her shoulders. “No disadvantages here.”

It sounds like a promise. No disadvantages here.

Valeria wants the words to taste like it too, but Eddie’s attention has turned back to the TV. He’s warm, his hand soothing up and down her back. Valeria drops her forehead to Eddie’s ribs. His heart beats against her forehead. No disadvantages here. The thump, thumpity, thump of Eddie’s heart still echoes through her bones. I told you, I’m just charging for parts. Thump, thumpity, thump. The more you get me, the more I get you.

The question burns on her tongue. How can Eddie never be receptive to nice things, to tenderness when it’s directed to him but give it so freely? How could Valeria do it? How had they survived this long with bleeds still running? Would they ever stop? Valeria’s crying before she realizes. The tears are slipping down her cheeks and falling down her chin. Some hit the couch cushions, some of it falls into the hip of Eddie’s pants.

Valeria presses her hand into his hip, bringing her head up. With the back of her hands, she’s able to swipe the tears from her cheeks. “Hey, Eddie,” Valeria starts. She doesn’t need to. He’s already turning to her, hand coming up to her cheek.

“Yeah? You okay?”

“I need you to promise me something.”

Eddie’s already sighing, like somehow he might’ve known this was coming from her. “I’m not great with promises.”

“Just this one from me,” Valeria returns. Maybe if she gets him to promise it, then it means it’ll have to come true. Wouldn’t that be a true miracle at the end of their story if she gets him to promise?

“Let me hear what it is first,” Eddie laughs, using his thumbs to wipe her cheeks.

“I need you to promise first.” It falls apart if he doesn’t promise first. “If I tell you first, and you don’t promise it’s worthwhile. Do you trust me?”

Eddie sighs, forehead resting against hers. “If I didn’t trust you, you absolutely would not be in my house. But I know you’re going to make me promise something I can’t fulfill. You believe in me too much.”

Maybe it’s worthless anyhow. They’d always be who they are and change doesn’t happen just in one weekend or just because of one person. Change would take time. Change would take their own desire for forward momentum. It feels childish really. But still Valeria thinks the world would give people like her and Eddie comfort. It would give in some way to allow them peace.

“You don’t believe in yourself enough,” Valeria laughs. It’s not because it’s funny. It’s because there was the damn mirror again between them. A mirror based in brown irises and black pupils for each of them.

There’s a long silence. Eddie’s forehead is still pressed to hers. His hands are cupping her face. Valeria’s holding onto his elbows. But there’s nothing until Eddie speaks, “I promise.”

“You promise to accept kindness without question. You promise that before you know it love gets easier to accept because you tell yourself you deserve it.” It’s a lot to ask. Some might say too much and Valeria knows that. It’s still worth a shot though.

Eddie nods. “I promise.” It falls out choked, but still audible.

“Does it feel like a nail in the coffin?”

“More than you realize, Valeria.”

The thing Valeria is sure that neither of them really realize when she wakes in Eddie’s bed, sheets covering her bare skin, is that there are many more nails that can go into the coffin. And the right person can pry them loose if allowed. Valeria’s not sure if Eddie promising is his consent for her to pry one nail loose for the one she nailed in. But she likes to think so.

“No cold pancakes today,” Eddie teases when Valeria joins him in the kitchen. His torso is bare. The red lines from yesterday morning are fading. But there are a few marks from last night still lingering on his shoulders. As he turns with a steaming mug in hand, the hickies Valeria sucked into his skin are fading. A couple are hard to see in the distance thanks to the ink.

“Need help?” Valeria asks, shuffling forward.

“Almost done. Sleep okay?”

Valeria nods around her sip and once it’s down replies verbally, “Like a baby. You?”

“Like a baby,” he echoes.

Their breakfast goes by with laughter. Valeria regails some stories of her time playing softball. Eddie recounts the shows he used to play at The Hideout. It’s easy. There’s no indication on what makes this morning easier. Valeria knows that in reality by tomorrow she’ll be gone. Headed back to her life almost as if nothing had ever happened. Perhaps this is what makes it easier. They don’t have to do more than ride out the rest of the day. They don’t have to do anything more than just exist as they always have.

Valeria swipes Eddie’s keys from the dining room table. His boots make a heavy thud as he walks up the hallway. “Anywhere else I should explore?” Valeria asks as Eddie collects the lunch pail--Wayne’s--and the thermos that she set out.

“It’s Hawkins. Not Indy,” Eddie laughs.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Did you find the lake?”

“There’s a lake?” Valeria asks. She doesn’t recall seeing many signs about a lake. Though Valeria knows she gets a little direction blind. When she has somewhere to go she focuses on just getting there safely.

Eddie nods. “Lovers Lake.”

Valeria cringes at the name. “I have a feeling I’m going to run across horny teenagers and as much as I think people are free to do what they want within reason, I am not looking to stumble across bare asses of children.”

Eddie slings his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, there is that risk. Then, I’m afraid you’ve seen it all.”

Valeria’s content with that. A small town is a small town at the end of the day. But if she had more to do other than what’s already there then she’d definitely make it a priority. “Any particular requests for dinner?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Eddie starts, opening the driver side door for Valeria. The February chill is softer today than previously. It’s still cold, but not terribly so, not like the second day Valeria was here. She’s sure her perception of her first day is entirely warped. Valeria climbs in, with a bit of a grunt because it does take more for her to get up into the truck than her car. “That it be my treat,” Eddie concludes. He leans up against the door molding of the truck, watching Valeria get herself buckled in. “How does pizza sound? It is Friday.”

“Are pizza Fridays a ritual for you?”

“Something like that. And look,” Eddie holds up the lunch pail, “I’ll have had a balanced lunch.”

Valeria snorts. “Pizza sounds like a lovely way to end the day.”

“Sweet.” Eddie’s grin goes from ear to ear. “Because I most definitely was getting pizza either way.”

Valeria laughs. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have expected much else.” Navigating out of the trailer park and onto the main roads is easy--something Valeria’s ingrained into her mind already given the amount of times she’s gotten in and out of it. “So where do you normally go to get pizza around here?”

“No, absolutely not. If I tell you, you’ll go and get it before getting me. I’m not giving you that information.” The radio station changes. Valeria doesn’t argue with the switch given it is Eddie’s truck. More guitars shred through the speakers. “I know you.”

“Because you would do it?”

“Absolutely I would.”

“Fine. I’ll go find Lucas or Max or Dustin. Don’t make me go to Steve,” Valeria threatens. She assumes that Steve would know Eddie’s routines. She’d rather Eddie just tell her. So she hopes the threats make Eddie cave. They pull into a spot outside the shop. Eddie digs out his wallet from his pocket and peels out a twenty from the bifold. He holds it out between his fingers.

“Pepperoni, extra cheese. 2-liter Mountain Dew. If Ma is there, she will throw in mozzarella sticks. Take them.”

“How do I know if Ma is there?” Valeria cautiously takes the bill.

“Oh, you’ll know.”

“And the name of the place?” Valeria questions.

Eddie grins, sliding across the seats. “Ask Dustin, or Lucas, or Steve. See you at 7.” Valeria’s not sure why she expected much else from Eddie. Perhaps Eddie might be right that they are something to each other, even if they are a pain in each other’s asses. Just like yesterday, she waits until Eddie’s safe inside the building, flicking on lights. Gareth pulls in two spots down from her. She gives a wave this time and then pulls out of the spot.

It’s really stupid. As much as she hates this place, what it’s supposed to represent, what’s happened to her in buildings like this, Valeria knows the only person who would give her a straight up answer would be here in this building. There’s a tan truck, one Valeria is pretty sure means Steve is here. The doors aren’t heavy as she swings them open. Stale coffee and the smell of cigarettes hits her nose.

“How can I help you dear?” An older woman is at the front desk--a smile paints her face in a way that Valeria knows only comes from age.

“Uh, this is sort of ridiculous. But is Steve Harrington around?”

“Oh, yeah, the Chief’s in. What did you need him for hon?”

It’s so stupid. “I had-I had a question for him.”

The woman nods, reaching down for the phone. “Chief. Young lady here needs to speak with you.” Valeria and the older woman share a smile. She presses a hand over the receiver. “What’s your name dear?”

“Valeria.”

She nods. “Thank you.” As she uncovers her hand, the woman repeats Valeria’s name to Steve. They’re only on the phone for a few seconds longer and then the older woman directs her attention fully to Valeria. “He’ll be out in just a second. Can I get you anything in the meantime?”

Valeria shakes her head. “I’m okay. Thank you.” It’s okay. You’re just here about pizza. Somehow the truth doesn’t settle Valeria’s heart. She paces, clicking nails together. It’s just one question. She’d been in and out of the building in five minutes, less if that.

“You okay, Valeria?”

Steve’s hair flops down into his face as he peers down at her. Valeria takes a slight step back, but nods. “It’s sort of a stupid question,” she begins. Steve slips his hands from his waist and then they fall behind his back.

“Can’t be all that stupid for you to come this way. You’re okay though, right? No trouble from anyone?”

Valeria nods. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Though Steve probably means it sincerely, Valeria doesn’t really need the confirmation about the type of folks in this town. She’d already stopped looking so much over her shoulder

“Good. I’m glad. What’s this question?”

It’s just about pizza. In and out. But all the words are stuck in Valeria’s throat for a moment. She inhales deeply to steady her nerves. “It’s stupid really. It’s probably easier ways but Eddie’s not cracking.”

Steve nods, leaning now against the wall. His face lifts in a tiny smile. “So it’s about Eddie.”

Valeria nods. “Yeah. Do-do you know where he gets his pizza from? I offered to cook dinner again and he refused that idea.”

A small crease forms between Steve’s brows. “And he told you he wanted pizza but didn’t tell you where?”

“It’s stupid. I’m sure there’s only so many places to get pizza in town.” It’s stupid to come here too. It’s stupid for Eddie to challenge her but alas they’re all here now. “I’m sorry,” Valeria starts. “There’s plenty more things you need to be doing. Sorry.”

Valeria starts for the door. She can’t even explain to herself why she’d come here. There was Robin. Maybe the kids would’ve known. But Valeria had decided to come to Steve and know she’s kicking herself for the decision.

“Benny’s. Pepperoni. Extra cheese. It’s more towards the outskirts of town. Let me get you the directions,” Steve answers.

It’s enough to pause Valeria part way out the door. “I think I can find it,” she returns. “Thank you. For the name.”

Steve points over his shoulder. “I’m serious about the directions. It’s not easy to get to if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“I’ll be okay, Steve.”

“Is it the uniform?” Steve questions. “Or has Eddie tried to brainwash you into thinking I cheat during Monopoly?”

“You-you don’t want to go down this road,” Valeria returns. Her voice is firm. It’s not that she doesn’t want to get to know Steve or give him the benefit of the doubt. But there’s too much bad history with establishments like this. It’s not individually Steve. It’s collective. It’s the fact that he may not ever see it like she does. Not because he can’t. But because he’d only ever get a portion of it. Steve would never fully understand. No fault of his own of course. “Eddie speaks highly of you. I’m sure if I were to talk to Dustin, or Robin, or Lucas, or Max, they’d have something similar to say too. I’m sure Hopper, who you took over for, would sing you literal praises. It’s not you. But you don’t want to go down this road.”

“I know city cops. I know what they do. I wish I could change that for you.”

“You don’t,” Valeria returns. It leaves her lips with nearly a hiss following it. “You don’t know anything about me or what it’s been like for me.”

Steve nods. “You’re right,” he adds softly. “That was a poor attempt at words. I’m sorry. I see it though. I see what they are capable of.”

Valeria’s hold tightens on the bar to the door. “Thank you for the name, Steve. I don’t think there’s anything I’m capable of hearing right now.”

“Fair--that’s fair. Thank you for being honest. Also if Ma is working at Benny’s tonight and you order, she’ll throw in--”

“Mozzarella sticks. Eddie warned me about her.” Valeria looks over her shoulder. “Eddie’s the one who cheats in monopoly?”

“All the time,” Steve huffs, a tiny grin appearing on his face. “All the fucking time.”

“Don’t let him be the banker.”

“He throws a fit if I try to be the banker.”

Valeris shrugs. “Maybe you just need to let him through a fit.”

____________________________

Steve’s directions are what Valeria could’ve only imagined to get--like his mind is linked to Expedia. Right on Main. Follow it for 2 miles. Left turn on Cherry Road. Follow it for half a mile. And so on down to the exact mile. At the bottom it’s scribbled down how long it’ll take for the pizza to cook too. It’s worth it to leave Eddie’s place and ensure the pizza doesn’t go cold. Benny’s is packed. Not that Valeria could’ve gauged how many people in town would be here. But she clutches to the note scribbled down in Steve’s handwriting, praying that even in the madness he’s right.

“Looking for a table?”

Valeria turns to find an older woman, salt and pepper hair dyed a light blue at the ends. It’s clear she’s older given by the wrinkles on her neck. But she carries herself like a woman closer to Valeria’s age. Her smile is bright. “To-go order, if that’s okay?”

“Course it is, darlin’. What can I do you for?”

“Large pizza. Pepperoni. Extra cheese.”

“What else?” she grins.

Valeria takes in the smack of gum between her teeth and then carries down the white t-shirt to the nametag, Ma. “That’s all.”

“You sure? We got the best damn mozzarella sticks in town. I bet.”

Valeria nods. “I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Oh alright. Follow me and I’ll get this in to the kitchen.” Ma leads Valeria through the tables and up to the counter. A few bodies line the counter plates filled with burgers and sandwiches. “Won’t be long. Want a drink while you wait?”

Valeria declines the offer. Around her there’s a crackle followed by the soft whine of guitars. She can’t tell if it’s the radio or jukebox in a corner, but the soft melody only comes to the surface of the noise in waves. The laughter and chatter swallow the music most of the time that Valeria waits. It’s warm at the counter. The kitchen’s probably boiling, but Valeria can see the line cooks laughing as their spatulas cut and flip. They’re conversation is inaudible. There’s only the curve of their lips. It doesn’t even seem to matter what they’re discussing, the orders scribbled down on Ma’s pad keep lining the window.

“Large pep. Extra cheese. Order of Mozzarella sticks,” Ma states, sliding the box and bag over the counter.

“How much for the sticks?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hon.” Ma winks at Valeria taking the twenty stretched out. As the change is counted, Valeria slips a five from her own wallet into the tip jar. It’s the least she can do.

Pushing into the door with her back, Valeria is careful as she exits. The moment the door closes all the sound is swallowed up. It’s just the night. A chill runs down Valeria’s spine. This is not what she expected, a strange sense of loss. It is alive in the diner, and so cold and still outside. Valeria ponders if the town was growing on her, if it was somehow crawling up from the level of a weird town with a haunting past into a town that she could find it possible to have a fondness for.

Eddie’s truck rumbles beneath Valeria, the tires taking the gravel of the parking lot with ease. It’s clear the diner’s been here long before the new roads and rather than pave it, the owners have let the place keep its old school charm. Valeria follows the opposite turns until she’s back on the main roads. From there it’s only a few minutes to Eddie’s shop. She pulls up and into a slot just as the clock ticks over to 7 on the radio.

Eddie’s securing the front doors, Gareth and a couple of other guys are just slipping into their cars too. It’s dark, but with the cut of headlights, Valeria can see Eddie’s smile. “Did you figure it out?” he asks.

“Hop in and find out,” Valeria laughs.

Eddie, thankfully, does not need to be told twice. He jogs over to the passenger side and there on the floor is the box and bag with Benny’s logo staring back at him. “Oh, who told you?” he asks climbing into the truck.

“Thank the Chief,” Valeria answers, waiting for the click of Eddie’s seatbelt before she gets the truck into gear to reverse.

“You willingly went to Steve?”

“You gave me no choice,” she laughs, pulling into a stop right at the mouth of the parking lot. When she’s sure it’s clear she pulls onto the road.

“I didn’t think you’d choose Steve. Thought you might wait for me,” Eddie returns.

“I’m a bear with small brains. Can’t really read between the lines.”

His laughter is sharp. “Don’t believe that for a second. You’re just stubborn.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?”

“For us, they might be.”

Valeria grins, pulling to a stop at the light. For them, stubbornness is always the name of the game. Life is never fun without a little bit of a challenge. Valeria wonders just how stubborn the two of them can be. “I have a question and you can say no,” she starts. “Can totally say no. I feel like I already know the answer, but I am curious.”

“I’m listening.”

It’s all Eddie gives, but it’s enough. Valeria knows if she presses too hard, Eddie will let her know. “Did you press charges? Back when you got mobbed basically—did you do anything about it?”

“No. Like I said, I was dealing. If I pressed charges it was eventually going to come back why Chrissy was with me in the first place.”

“And it was putting food on the table,” Valeria concludes. Survival was probably more important than justice at the moment. Long term survival meant Eddie needs to keep making money.

“She broke up with Jason a few months later. Jason is Liv’s dad.”

Small town gossip--a juicy being but Valeria knows more than just something to gape at, these were real people. There were real stakes with this information. “Does Liv know? Like who her dad is? I assume it might be hard to hide in a town this small.”

“Oh she knows. He helps out a little financially from what Chrissy tells me but she got cut off from her parents after getting pregnant and refusing to marry Jason. She hasn’t had much money to spare to get out of Hawkins. Jason left for college. Almost went pro and then got injured before he could. So he came back. Apparently he was married to somebody from college. Didn’t last once his chance at pro ball went south.”

“Karma huh?” Valeria takes the turn into the trailer park with practiced ease now.

“I feel bad for him now. He was a prick for sure but I think Jason got so caught up in status that it swallowed him. Like without status, Jason thinks he’s nothing but he’s not. I don’t know. Getting older’s made me realize how fragile life really is. I don’t know if he’ll ever get himself out of the hole.”

Valeria parks right outside the trailer. Both of them are still as if the seatbelts have fully restrained them. “I guess you could say that the older you get the wiser you get. Maybe. For some.”

“Something like that.”

The sentence releases them. Eddie unbuckles himself and Valeria follows suit. At the very least this is normal to them. This is known. “The part for your car came today.” Eddie takes the keys from Valeria and she takes the food in the exchange. “About an hour before we closed up shop and I didn’t want anyone rushing that. So it’s on the agenda first thing tomorrow.”

Valeria knows the news should bring her delight. And it does. She’s so fucking relieved to know that she won’t be stranded for too much longer. But her first thought is that leaving means she’ll actually be gone. She won’t be waking up to Eddie’s breakfast. She won’t feel so awkward which is a relief but she is saddened to have a close on her time with him so soon. “No one to force you to eat vegetables at least once a day.”

“I have Steve for that,” Eddie laughs. “And Red, and Sinclair, and Henderson. Buckley gives less of a shit but if Steve starts it, she’ll join in.”

“Now you can see it.”

“I made a promise,” Eddie huffs. “Because a certain someone insisted.”

Valeria grins. “Damn right I did.”

“Go nuts,” Eddie states gesturing to the food on the table, “I’m going to clean the grime off me first.” Valeria doesn’t really need the heads up. She’d learned his pattern already. Eddie would always shower before dinner. Valeria always showered after. Perhaps, it wasn’t Eddie’s normal routine. Or maybe it was. Either way, she was already comfortable in knowing he’d excuse himself. Valeria nods, toeing out of her shoes and heading into the guest room to shed the layers of the day.

Her phone chimes as she’s in the middle of pulling her sweatshirt up over her head. It chimes again. When Valeria’s free from the cotton, she opens the two texts: Hope you’re safe.

Let me know if you need anything.

Both messages are from Chelsea. Valeria hadn’t called her or Tatianna. Valeria had connected with Tammie briefly for the daily check in. It felt nice to have someone who made it a part of their day to check in with her given the circumstances. The calls were growing shorter. It seemed the more Valeria regaled about her time here, the less Tammie worried. It didn’t make it all go away, but some portion of it lessened. It may have helped that Valeria always had time to answer.

Thanks for checking in. I’m OK. It’s all Valeria feels she can say. Perhaps, in person it might be easier to see how much Chelsea means it. A text is something, but something in her gut makes it feel like it’s Tammie’s doing. Like maybe the only reason she picked up the phone is just to satisfy someone else, but not Valeria and not for herself either.

Her phone shakes again. Okay to call?

Yes. It’s automatic. Or that’s what Valeria tells herself. They’d been friends since college. They’d been through heartbreaks together. It’s automatic to say yes.

“Hey, Val.”

“Hey, Chels.”

Then silence--an awkward pause where Valeria’s not sure if she should ask Chelsea what had sparked the call. This is the space where words should be, and yet they are not.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call before.”

There’s nothing else. No excuse, which would’ve been easy. Chelsea had a job, one kid, her fiance. Any of those could’ve been excuses and yet, Chelsea does not offer a single one of them as some sort of scapegoat.

“I could’ve texted more,” Valeria offers. She could’ve. It’s the truth.

“I don’t blame you. I’ve been not great at communicating.”

“Is everything okay?” Valeria questions. It’s soft. Like she’s not sure if Chelsea is offering this because she needs something or if she’s really sorry.

“Between us, probably not. In other regards of my life, yeah.”

Valeria exhales, “Oh.” It’s a lame response. But it’s all she can say around the shock. Chelsea isn’t not the type to own up to her mistakes. But she was never really blunt. Valeria was.

“I think-I think I should start over. Val, I called today because I wanted to apologize. Tammie told us you were stranded in Hawkins the same day it happened. I think after you called her from the shop. And I worried, I did. I swear I did. But I didn’t take two minutes to send you a quick message or to call. I assumed, hoped, prayed maybe you’d be back on the road that same day. And you weren’t. But then Tammie said you were okay and you’ve always been smart and kept your wits about you. I figured if anyone of us were stranded in a small town and were to survive it, it would be you. But just hearing Tammie should’ve have sufficed like it did. We don’t have to talk every single day. We’ve got a lot of things going on in our lives. But two minutes. I couldn’t take two minutes when you needed it the most. I’m disgusted with myself. And I’m not calling you right now to throw a pity party and get you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know. I do care about you. I do love you. I’m sorry I fumbled it this time.”

The tears have choked Valeria. She settles onto the edge of the bed, swiping the back of her hand under her nose. With a blink more tears slip down her cheek. “I appreciate it, Chels. I do.”

“Thanks for hearing me out. I anticipated you ending the call about halfway through it.”

Valeria laughs and shakes her head though Chelsea can’t see it. “No, no I wouldn’t do that. I’d think about it though.”

“Do you have an ETA on car parts?”

“They-the parts just came in today. Should be fixed tomorrow.”

“You-you don’t have to answer this, but what’s the damage to your pockets?”

“I-I can handle it. Thanks, Chels.”

Chelsea hums, it vibrates through the receiver. “Yeah, no worries. You’re safe though, right?”

Valeria gives a nod, still clearing her cheeks of tears. “Yeah, I’m safe.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re up on the road, if-if it’s not too much.”

“I can do that.” Two minutes--that’s all it would take. It seems like an easy enough promise to keep. Their goodbyes come quietly. There’s no ‘love you’ punctuated like Valeria and Tamara do. But it’s still love. The clack of the phone echoes. Valeria still sat on the edge of the bed. She’s still in Eddie’s trailer. She’s still in Hawkins.

A knock comes from the door and Valeria inhales before turning to the sound. “I swear if it’s not me crying, it’s you,” Eddie teases.

“I’m okay,” Valeria states. The bed dips and she knows it’s Eddie settling down next to her.

“You can be okay and cry. You can cry and not be okay,” Eddie returns.

“You’re pizza’s going to get cold.”

“Are you really worried about the pizza or do you just need a moment?”

His fingers are warm. Valeria curls her digits around his. “Just need a minute.”

“Take all the minutes you need.” Eddie presses a kiss to the back of her hand before he leaves. It’s just Valeria again. There’s still anger. Of course it takes Valeria being stranded to open the light for Chelsea. Valeria’s not sure if she’s glad to finally have cracked the surface with Chelsea. Maybe time would tell.

Valeria pushes off the bed and shuffles back into the front of the house. Eddie’s at the dining room table, box of pizza still closed, bag of mozzarella sticks still tied shut. There’s two paper plates set out. “I see you waited.”

“I see you only needed a minute.” Valeria sees in his gaze the question: What happened? “Chelsea called me.”

Eddie’s untying the bag and Valeria’s popping the top to the pizza box. “Who’s that?”

“Friend of mine. She and I--we’ve been sort of on a thin rope. But she-she heard from Tammie about me being here and checked on me.”

“That rope a little thicker now?”

“Maybe,” Valeria returns, dropping two slices onto her plate. “Maybe. Only time will tell.”

Tagging: @munsonology @2clones-1kamino @avidreader73

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gurugirl · 8 months

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A Good Boy | The Morning After

Summary: What happens the morning after Harry and Y/n wake up together. Did Leo hear them? Has their secret been exposed?

A/n: This is the first little check-in to give you guys something to hold on to until I get into some more substantial ones. This is a glimpse of what happens the morning after they've made a commitment to one another while they're still on vacation in Greece. ALSO - This is stepmon!reader x stepson!harry - both are adults in this story but don't read if you don't like it.

Word Count: 2360 (she's short but relevant)

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, cheating, lying, smut, age gap (-7 years)

A Good Boy Masterlist

The morning after Tyler had caught them Y/n snuck out of the room first, leaving Harry with a soft kiss and blazing hot cheeks after what they’d just done.

“Where were you?” Leo’s voice suddenly caught her off guard as she gripped the coffee carafe so it didn’t fall from her already shaky hand. Shaky because she had no idea what she was going to be facing once she saw Leo. Had he heard her and Harry?

“I slept in one of the guest rooms. Didn’t want to disturb you when I went to bed because seemed like you really needed to sleep,” she half lied. She was definitely in one of the guest rooms. But she was most certainly not sleeping alone.

“I called for you and everything. Was downstairs looking for you too,” he scratched the back of his head and chuckled, “but I guess I was pretty sloshed. Barely remember much else.”

She gulped down the sand in her throat and licked her lips. So he didn’t hear them. Or if he did he couldn’t remember it. Either way. This bought her time to get her affairs in order and figure out the best way to break to him the news.

They had been careless the night before but part of her thought that if he did hear them, that would get the ball rolling. Surely that would be one way of delivering the news to Leo. But she preferred to tell him on her own time when they were both ready, prepared. The truth was going to come out. She was in love, and playing around with his son in secret needed to come to an end as soon as possible. Because it was no longer play. They were serious about one another. It was insane but they were going to make it work. However, best after vacation, she figured.

“He didn’t overhear us.” She closed the door to the room Harry was in and stepped toward him.

He let out a breath in relief, “Thank fuck. But now what? What’s the plan for the rest of our time here? And then after?”

Y/n stood to her toes and draped her arms over his shoulder as he grabbed her by her waist, “We’ll tell him after vacation. Once we figure out a plan. I’m not going to be sleeping with him or next to him again. I do need to at least make that clear to him soon.”

“You could bring up Parker to him? Tell him you heard him talking to her.”

Grinning she nodded, “Actually, that’s a great idea. Tell him I know he’s started to get feelings for her. That can be the excuse.”

Leo did try to initiate sex, as was expected, but she’d already made up her mind that she was with Harry. She wouldn’t be sleeping with Leo again. Ever again. And Harry’s idea about using Parker as an excuse was perfect.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked after she nudged him away from her. He’d tried hugging her and kissing her neck but she moved out of his arms and said no.

“I just…” she had to really put on her best act. Even though she didn’t care one bit about Parker she needed to state what she was about to say in such a way that it would put the kibosh on his advances again, “overheard you on the phone. With Parker. And… you’re allowed to do what you wan–“

“What? How?” He stopped in his tracks, a surprised expression, eyes wide.

“I was in the bathroom the other morning and you were on the balcony and I heard everything you said clearly because the window was open.”

Leo let his eyes wander to the edge of the bedroom in thought as he began to nod.

“And anyway… you can sleep with whom you want. We agreed to that but, Leo,” she paused until he finally looked back at her, “it sounds like… I don’t know… kind of like it’s more than just sex with her. And if that’s true then that crosses a boundary I’m not comfortable with.”

Leo was quiet for a bit as he paced back and forth. Y/n could see he was figuring out how to respond. He finally stopped and turned to look at her, “What exactly did you hear?”

She sighed for dramatic effect, “That you missed her, called her honey, said something about how many more days it would be, and that you wished it was her that was here with you.”

Blinking his eyes and looking down at his feet he nodded to himself, “Wow. I…” he looked back at his wife and ran a hand through his hair, “Y/n I’m sorry you heard that. It wasn’t… I don’t know what to say. Maybe we can talk about this when we get back home,” he took her hands in his, “Let’s not let this ruin our vacation. Okay?”

It was a sweet gesture, she felt. He wasn’t normally so gentle about things and she could tell he felt bad. Perhaps this could work in her favor. In their favor.

It was also the perfect excuse to not sleep in bed with him. She moved her clothes to the guest bedroom and Leo didn’t question it once.

And Harry was relieved his dad hadn’t overheard them. Having a little more time to figure out everything would be ideal for them both. He was set to graduate at the end of Fall that year, which meant he’d have his degree and he could get a good job. He imagined both he and Y/n renting a small apartment, whatever they could afford because he was sure his dad would cut him off once he did find out the truth.

Everyone, including Tyler, noticed the sudden change in Leo. He withdrew slightly but was polite and kind. Y/n felt a little guilty about it but it was better than Leo knowing about her and Harry and trying to finish off the vacation with that hanging over them.

But both Y/n and Harry couldn’t have been happier deep down. They maintained a healthy distance from one another during the day or anytime Leo was around. Which turned out to be a bit harder than they realized. Because once they’d both admitted their feelings they just wanted to indulge in the newness. It didn’t stop the lingering glances or quick whispers with promises, a cheeky hidden pinch, or hot stolen kisses.

And once the lights were off and everyone was in their rooms, Harry would join Y/n in her room, or she in his with the door closed and locked.

Keeping quiet was no fun but being able to imbibe in one another every night and every morning before they parted was worth covered mouths and muted moans.

Harry woke up feeling warm with Y/n’s back against his chest. She was sighing and slowly fidgeting under the sheets as she was just beginning to rouse from her own slumber.

He grinned to himself as he inhaled her scent and brought a hand up over her bare arm, “Morning.”

Her eyes were still closed when she heard his raspy tired voice in her ear, “Morning.”

Waking up early was not something either of them enjoyed, but it had been worth it to savor one another before the day began. Before anyone else woke up.

Harry’s warm hand traveled down her hip and over her thigh with purpose as she felt his mouth sponge wet kisses on her neck. Reaching behind her to pull his arm to her front she brought his hand up to her bare breasts.

They didn’t even need to say a word to know what would come next. Y/n reached down to lazily rub her clit when she felt Harry’s cock digging into her bum.

She barely even needed to touch herself to get worked up. Harry’s lips on her neck and his hand manipulating and pinching her nipples were quite enough.

Angling her hips and pressing herself back onto Harry he felt her wetness and groaned softly as he lifted her thigh and placed his cock to her wet hole, pushing through the tight muscle as he continued kissing the sensitive skin on her neck.

Stunted thrusts into her pussy were met with her own hips pushing herself down over him. Harry began to whine at the way his tip was being fucked and how tight she felt on him. It was hard to get in long deep strokes in that position but for Harry, it was sending him over the edge too fast, “Gonna come… fuck!” He spoke his words in a frantic whisper.

Y/n’s mouth dropped open when she felt him suddenly throbbing and pumping into her as he stilled his hips and tightened his grip on her thigh. He gasped and pasted his lips over her neck to keep himself quiet as he came inside of her embarrassingly fast.

When he lifted his face from her neck he groaned, “Sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to come so fast. Felt so good…”

Grinning she turned her head and moved herself so she was on her back and Harry was next to her, “It’s okay. You’ve been so good.” She spread her legs as a hint for him to finish her off.

Harry breathed out a shallow laugh as he watched her lift her hips and lick her lips, “I try to be good for you. I can still make you come,” he grabbed her thigh, positioning himself in between her legs, pushing them apart to watch his orgasm slowly drip out of her pussy. Pressing his fingers into the warm come he pressed it back into her, watching the filthy act as his fingers disappeared into her.

She moaned as he began to curl his fingers and stroke her insides slowly. He looked from her eyes to where he was fingering her, his digits coated in her arousal and his creamy come. A bit of sperm dripped down her ass he plunged his fingers in and pulled out.

“Fuck, baby. You like fucking your come back into me with your fingers?” She whispered her words.

“It’s so pretty,” he moaned his words and then lowered his face to suck on her clit and lick over her in wide, flat strokes with his hot tongue.

The moment his head was in between her thighs she pushed her hand into his hair and gripped a hold tight, “Good boy… right there. Don’t let your come go to waste, baby.”

She loved watching him eat her out. But he was good at it too, now that he’d learned exactly what she liked the most, “Yes… Lick it like that. Uughh… fuck…” She didn’t dare throw her head back like her body wanted. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on Harry’s lewd act. His mouth sucking and licking her (and consequently himself) up, his fingers pumping into her.

Harry pressed his shoulders into the back of her thighs and began digging in as deep and hard as he could like she liked. Her soft pants and gasps in the room, and the slick, sticky sound of her pussy being eaten were surely quiet enough for the early morning stillness of the house.

And when she came she covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed, dropping her head back into the pillow against her will. She had wanted to keep her eyes on her pretty boy but he had her coming so hard her body shook and the will to keep her eyes open wasn’t strong enough to overcome her body’s natural inclination.

Harry softly licked over her as he watched her heave and tremble under him. He loved gently tonguing at her clit until she pushed him away when she couldn’t handle it anymore.

She softly giggled and bucked her hips up, sliding away from his mouth with droopy lids and a lopsided smile as Harry sat up, “How was it?”

Rolling her eyes she pulled him over her body to glue their mouths together as an answer. It was good. It was always good. She and Harry had an intrinsic connection. Something that couldn’t be forced or imagined. It was real and natural. This was her lover, her man, her soulmate.

Ending their vacation in Greece was bittersweet. Of course, it was time to get back to reality.

“I’m gonna be sad when I can’t have you in my bed every night,” Harry spoke as he sat on her bed next to the suitcase she was stuffing with her clothes. They had another hour before the driver was to pick them up and bring them to the airport for their long day of travel back to California.

“I know, baby. Me too. I think Leo isn’t going to question me being gone more often, though. Knowing what I know about how he feels about Parker. So I was thinking maybe every couple of days I could go to your dorm? Stay with you?”

That would have to do. Until they could figure out how to tell Leo.

“And how long do we do that until we finally tell him?” Harry watched her put her shoes into a shoe bag before placing it on top of the pile of clothes.

“I don’t know. Maybe Tuesday night I can come over and you and I can really discuss our plan. With you graduating soon, that might be something to factor in, you know?”

He nodded, “Yeah. We could rent an apartment together. I’ll get a job.”

“And me too. I’m gonna start looking for work,” she looked at the young man and stopped what she was doing, placing herself in between his legs and sticking her fingers into his curls, “This won’t be easy but it’s gonna be worth it. I love you.”

Harry tilted his head back and closed his eyes to bask in the feel of her fingers on his scalp. He smiled and hummed before opening his eyes to look back at her, “I know it’ll be worth it. I love you too.”

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