#in somebody elses fucking car
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[ID: the “touching grass is not enough” meme of text over a flowery field that has been edited to read “touching grass is not enough, i need an update about the edge of sleep tv series.” end ID]
#the edge of sleep#teos#literally ive only listened to the first three episodes bc i struggle to find an excuse to listen to an audio drama#i dont really listen to podcasts. i turned on distractible while i was cleaning my aunts house cause it was good to have as background noise#but teos is a work of fiction it's a thriller/mystery/horror story that i want to give my undivided attention#and thats hard to do because my brain Refuses to stay on track if listening is all i'm doing#when i was into bmc i had to be reading the script while i listened to the audio bootleg or i wouldnt fucken stay concentrated#i only listened to it initially during a shift w a disability support worker bc we were driving and we had fuckall else to do#but 1. i dont always have the same worker and it feels rude to keep listening to a story halfway through with no context for them#and 2. from my understanding shit gets decidedly fucked up from ep 4 onward so its probably super not appropriate to listen to#in somebody elses fucking car#but i wanna finish it SO BAD i wanna be able to pour through the teos tag and talk about it with other people without getting spoiled#ive gotten spoiled on a Lotta shit just from reading the tvtropes page#auauufah im so torn between figuring out how to listen to it as a podcast or waiting for more info on the tv show#fellow autistic people do you ever do that thing where ur special interest is always some form of media but its prone to changing#so like every few months youre defined by a new fucking show or game or film or whatever#but Every So Often when ur between big interests u have a very short-lived (hours/days/week or two) but INTENSE obsession w something niche#yeah its like that#my brain is that little ms paint creature thing on all fours with pointy teeth and red eyes biting something in its mouth savagely#and the something is teos#internal monologue
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Hi...i'm a married man and love my wife but have just discovered your blog.....you're so damn pretty you make me want to cheat on my wife.
I'm going to find your wife and fuck her so well she leaves you for me because I can actually make her come
#bitts answers#in case you were wondering: with extremely rare exceptions i fucking hate cheaters and if i ever catch wind of you cheating#or wanting to cheat on your partner i will block you#if i know you in real life and find your you're cheating i will ruin your life. ill tell your partner. ill tell your boss#ill spray paint it on your house and your car#i have been used and used and used by men who thought i wouldnt find out and it almost broke me#and unless youre trapped in a dangerously abusive environent you had better stay loyal to your fucking partner because they TRUST YOU#absolurely need to fuck somebody else? polyamory exists. partner says no? break up with them because they deserve better than you anyway
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I would love to hear your thoughts on MCU Tony stark. Irondad specifically. 😌🎤
NORMAL BEHAVIOR KING.
I do not have very sophisticated opinions. Tony Stark, as a character, is defined by his flaws. He fucks up, he does his best to make up for it, he helps people. That's what makes him a hero and a good person. He makes a mistake and he takes responsibility for it. He tries, fails, and tries again until he gets it right. Otherwise he'd be pretty unlikable.
Pulling Peter into the Germany thing in Civil War was a massive mistake and I think Tony understood that. I mean it was actual literal child trafficking. It was incredibly messed up. Tony behavior, but not at all appropriate for an adult to do.
It's interesting to go from there, because now this guy absolutely took responsibility for the one child in NYC who is physically incapable of being normal about anything, and he completely dodged that responsibility. Hoco seemed like the process of him realizing "holy shit I'm doing what my dad did", taking responsibility for Peter, and helping him out and giving him the support he should have had in the first place. In his really clunky and earnest but very weird and ineffective Tony way.
Like that was my impression? My impression was "he sucks, but he's trying". That's IM in a nutshell. It's interesting. It's physically incapable of being interesting if you strike through the "yeah but he's terrible at it" aspect of this. There is nothing left. Their relationship is built on a foundation of Tony Being Absolutely Terrible At This. But he's trying, because Tony always wants to be better even when he doesn't know how.
You have officially thrown me under the Irondad bus are you happy. Did you win, king.
#my asks#i am physically incapable of writing tony because whenver he is even mentioned#i can't stop myself from incessant jokes that are basically dunk after dunk after dunk#i don't mind him. you just have to write him as somebody everybody else fucking hates#local man most insufferable man alive#having the Most Unhatable Child chasing after him is funny though#“YEAH mr stark can do anything” in the background tony is crashing his car into a tree#its about the earnest but idiot optimism from both of them
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i’m a normal guy who can respond normally to music
#car seat headrest#YOU HAVE YOUR OWN SKIN AND BONES TO CALL YOURSELD AND YOU WILL NEVER EVER BE SOMEBODY ELSE#fucked up and evil i think#ok goodnight#mine#csh
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ill be the first one to say William Shatner is an asshole and kind of a hack.
but i LOVE the original series and Jim Kirk and like it or not, his Kirk is iconic even if all the campiness was a combination of directorial pushing, co-actors responding, and unintentional natural bitchiness.
so my car, this little adorable yellow creature, is all decked out with star trek and nerdy bumper stickers, mostly TOS related and one, notably, depicting Kirk. the Shatner one. because thats the face i picture when i picture Kirk. the character. whom i live so much. and my nerdy little car with the JMS KRK license plate. which i also love so much. and am very proud of.
today, i came out from my hair appointment to find this on the windshield of my car.
hey, uh. pro-tip? if you see a car with stickers or licenses for a show or character you just… don’t particularly like? maybe uh. dont fucking do this.
#it costs $0 dollars not to shit on something somebody else likes#especially when youre passive aggressive about it fuckin :) bullshit#i dont fucking want to get into discussions with strangets about the evils of capitilism and asshole actors#i just want to enjoy my nerdy like car with its nerdy little character stickers of a series that DEFINED THE FUCKING GENRE#Picard Only fans stop acting like youre above TOS challenge 2k23
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#idk it's just really frustrating to think that people will ALWAYS make allowances for people they're romantically in love with but#not make those same allowances for someone else they otherwise care about.#that people will risk things for their partners that they wouldn't for their friends#that it's EXPECTED for you to prioritize your spouse/significant other/etc. at all times but prioritizing your friend(s) is rarely even#considered. and when you're like me and you LITERALLY CANNOT DO THIS SHIT BY YOURSELF...#like I know I go on and on about marrying some theoretical woman all the time (and my ongoing...whatever this is. with Musician Guy)#but genuinely I'm not even sure that I want that I think I just want someone who will fucking visit me in the hospital if I get into a car#crash or fix me soup when I'm sick.#like...yeah. in that one story I wrote I think I distilled it down: we all just want someone to hold us when we're sad#and it SUCKS that the only avenue we seem to be allowed to pursue that is through a romantic relationship#right now I have my dad but if something happens to him...I genuinely do not know what I'm going to do. I'll have nowhere to go#if something terrible happens. I'll have no one to help me be a person. and I just. like I really am going to just have to power through#the next 60 years on this fucking planet alone and by god I'll fucking do it but I wish I didn't have to!!!!#and I think this was why the loss of Her™ friendship (which was necessary. for both of us) was so acutely painful. because even after#she got married she WAS willing to prioritize me when things got bad enough. she DID genuinely care about me in a way I don't think#anyone ever has. and I just really don't think I'll ever find that ever again. and I can't go back and I don't WANT to be with her anymore#but it was this time of the year when she told me she was getting married way back when and my brain has kept that like the World's Worst#Anniversary and all of those terrible ugly feelings are coming back in full force and I HATE that I'm still unpacking this I. HATE. that#this not-even-relationship is STILL doing this to me#WHAT THE FUCK!!! IS UP WITH THAT!!!!!!#*sigh* okay for REAL I am logging off right now because I've already said Too Many Embarrassing Personal Things about myself today#and I do not want to put myself in a position to say anymore!#In the Vents#GOD this is so stupid IT'S NOT LIKE SOMEBODY DIED WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS
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Girls I am on the fucking brink for realsies this time.
#I am on Tumblr Desktop for the first time in probably years and first of all. it sucks ass#but also. what the fuckkkkkkkk is happening to me#somebody has cursed me. for real.#(pause to say I do enjoy typing on keys. I have missed that if nothing else)#anyways. so first. didn't find my debit card and had to report it lost and get a replacement that could take up to 2 weeks to get.#so no money for 2 weeks. yippee.#and like 2 hours ago my phone shut off for no reason and now I cannot get it to turn back on. I've been trying for 2 hours.#it's not dead. it didn't get wet or dropped. it didn't overheat. it just shut off and will not come back on.#so for 2 hours I was completely unable to complain on here. which is the real issue tbh#I have NO money and NO phone. I can't even fucking buy another phone right now if I had the money.#what's next??? my car?????? (probably)#but like. I can't fucking do this right now#what do I dooooooooooooooo#I'm gonna fucking kill myself. I'm sorry I know we're not supposed to say that anymore cuz positivity or whatever#but I'm so serious. I can't take another mishap that's gonna set me back several years financially. I'm so fucking exhausted#anyways!! sparkle on !!
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I got a policy on all new tech that I don't know -- I hate it from the get-go, & it needs to prove it's useful before I'm willing to accept it.
If a piece of tech isn't improving anything, you don't need that tech*. You need what that tech is trying to replace.
*I'll specify that this is a case-by-case basis for each individual. I.E. I wouldn't buy a smart soap dispenser -- I can buy an analog one, & I have no difficulty using it or need to slap a sensor onto it, meanwhile somebody with fine motor movement issues might find it easier than trying to press down a hand pump.
#gale chatter#to be frank i hate smart tech so much it is unreal#why is your fridge on the wifi. why your grill needing an update. what the fuck are you connecting that roomba to cloud for#these things aren't necessary or secure. they are risks & holes in your system.#your roomba maps out your floors for cleaning then connects to your wifi. now somebody else can slink in & steal your floor plans#you got a smart lock on your car or door now somebody can make a phony signal or jam that lock to open it#my family members have their locations on at all times. who they're with. who they aren't with. if they're alone.#are they not fucking worried about that?#there is good tech out there there are genuine improvements but papering your house over with smart tech#& pretending you're in the jetsons isn't how we make genuine meaningful strives forwards with technology#& i honestly despise the trendiness of making this tech. what's that like? you want to make people happy & improve the world#& instead you're dishwasher that needs wifi#or bike armor that uses a subscription service#wild. it would make me hate my own hands. i would forevermore forsake actuators & wires & circuits.#engineers build whatever they can get funded to build & bc smart tech is trendy smart tech gets funded so they buils more smart tech#i hate it.
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they told us 10 but we got 17 😭
#xoxo#i thought i misheard b when she told me. . .nope.#17 palettes of all kinds of trees guys. . .also i didnt think to wear my long sleeve so im getting all the rashes rip#good news is i have b and o pulling all the old trees we happen to have left snd put them on clearance.#and ive made space for basicslly all the trees i think. blueberries can go with the other fruit on their temporary table (rose table).#bad news is. well. 17 fucking palettes.#i dont think we've ever gotten in this many b4. maybe 13 max.#also have no idea where i'll put these crapes. . eugh.#um what else. i havent worked since sunday. walked in to all thd homeless ppl having left. at least the ones in their cars.#di (formerly dl) is apparently trying to take an asm position instead of be mst. . .so.#OH I FORGOT TO SHOW HIM THE PIC man i hope i see somebody today. i have a funny pic to show mst.#he still hasnt found my sign. fun.#i sent gcf a text yesterday and im glad i did. also texted him asking what fruit tree he was looking for earlier bc we got in so many lol#its really warm today too 😔 ok that was my break back to work. trying to finish as much so ehen b and o come back from lunch we can crank#it out b4 they leave.
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Love it when Lyft riders text me threatening messages over a misunderstanding or whatever!!!!!
*does a gay little jig*
#blue rambles#I don't know what they're fucking deal was#but they definitely said something about a gun and going to rob me???#but they also typed out their full name in the text message?? so I feel like they were trying to get somebody else in trouble??#it was super weird!!!#the person messaging me was never even in my car!!!#they were acting like somebody else set up a ride for someone on their account?? it was like this old lady who was totally chill so idk!!!#lyft shenanigans#fuck lyft tbh lol
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CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT MATT AND HIS GF, THEY HAVE SEX AT A RESTAURANT, SHES SITTING ON HIS LAP AND COCKWARMING AND THEN THEY HAVE CAR SEX AND CHRIS CATCHES THEM THEN WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE HOUSE CHRIS FUCKS MATTS GF VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SMUT FILLED
PURE ECSTASY (part one)
read part two here
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!soft dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a friend throws a birthday party at the club, but the night doesn’t end there. or with your boyfriend.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight spit kink, oral (female receiving), getting caught, fingering, finger sucking, cheating (please don’t!), degradation, spanking, choking, sex tape, hair pulling, daddy kink, dumbification, overstimulation, breeding, begging kink, stomach bulge, ROUGHHH ASF
THIS IS NOT A THREESOME!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,017
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS REQUEST😟 (i love it) my new favorite fic holy moly it’s also ovulation week and when that happens i become one with the smut.
hope it’s okay that it’s at a club except restaurant!
for @sturniololovers :)
chatter fills around the booth, and the group gets ready to sit. it’s your friend’s 21st birthday, and of course she chose a club. the volume of the music and drunk people around make it extremely loud that you have to scream to talk to somebody.
purple, blue, and pink lights illuminate throughout the place, and the dance floor is packed with people. most of your friend group already made it to the bar or by the DJ, including nick, madi, and nate. chris sets his jacket down by everybody else’s stuff.
“i’m going to get a pepsi and join the others on the floor. you guys staying here?” he talks over the music, pointing behind him.
“for now.” matt replies, for some reason shimmying in his seat slightly. you shake it off as he tries to get comfortable, waving at chris as he walks off.
the two of you talk, some friends coming and going from the booth to put drinks down or mingle with you guys.
you lean into matt’s side, smiling at what he’s saying. he places his hand on your thigh, making you nuzzle into him more. “sit on my lap.” he says abruptly.
you’re confused, but lift yourself off of the seat to slide yourself to hover over your boyfriend’s lap. he guides your hips down, and you gasp from the sudden stretch.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
his pants were just past his dick, the thing that your sitting on right now. you feel it growing inside you, cockwarming him in the middle of the club. “matt, we’re in public.” you whine.
he only shrugs. the dress you’re wearing is long enough to cover your sides, so if somebody looks over it seems that you’re innocently sitting on his lap.
“love the way you feel.” he groans in your ear, subtly squeezing your tit.
you glance around mortified, wondering if people can see you. the spot you guys chose is against the wall in the back, but it’s not like you’re invisible. “ride my cock, baby.”
this is crazy you think, but still grip onto the edge of the table anyway. you’ve learned your lesson multiple times before whenever you disobeyed matt, and if you did this time, he’ll likely spread you out on the table and fuck you so everybody can purposely see.
you start by grinding, gasping whenever his girth rubs against your walls. the way he feels already has you clenching. your arousal starts to coat his base, a sign for you to start bouncing.
not so hard, but softly. the grip you have on the table help you steady yourself. you can feel your face turning red, still looking around the club through your lashes. you like the thrill of somebody seeing you guys, but it’s also horrifying.
your head falls between your shoulders to hide your face of pleasure. moans lowly fall from your mouth, your eyes rolling back each time his tip brushes against your g-spot. “o-oh, matt, baby.” you moan in a high pitch, biting your lip when somebody walks by.
thank the lord people are too tipsy or distracted to look over here. you shake in his lap, another pitched moan flowing through the air. you exhale, lifting your head so it rests on the side of matt’s cheek.
he kisses your temple. “go ahead, baby. cum on my cock.”
whimpering, your orgasm washes through your body and onto his dick. you sigh of relief, catching your breath at the same time. “gonna cum in this beautiful cunt.” matt grunts when he twitches inside you.
you squirm, mumbling something along the lines of it spilling out of you. “don’t worry about that, honey. i’ll take care of it soon.”
the bottom of your dress is hoisted past your stomach, matt’s hold on your legs firm as you’re spread out in the backseat of the minivan.
by ‘taking care of it soon’, he meant cleaning it up for you.
the club’s music still bumps to the beat of the song it’s playing, even if you guys are in the parking lot.
you twitch beneath him, your eyes crossing and mouth agape. his tongue works wonders between your legs. you still feel sensitive from your previous orgasm from inside the club, the same orgasm that leaks around his lips as he digs into your needy hole.
soft moans and whimpers escape you, the windows fogging up from the heavy breathing and sweat.
he pulls away, bringing his face to hover over yours. he’s smiling foolishly at your trance. your arousal glistens around his mouth, his hair disheveled. “think you can take me again?”
you grip onto his biceps when he starts railing into you, your face scrunching up. you squeeze your eyes shut, but they open as soon as his hand grabs your jaw. “open your mouth.”
you obey, and he spits in it before kissing you open-mouthed. he consumes your sounds, the way your bodies are conjoined causes a slap noise every time his hips meet your pelvis.
bang bang bang.
the both of you jump at the fist hitting against the window, stopping in position. even though the windows are fogged, matt can tell who it is.
he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “what do you want, chris? we’re kind of in the middle of something, here.”
“stop fucking and open the goddamn door. i need my chapstick.” there’s silence. “and don’t be naked.”
matt pulls your dress down, zippering his pants. he crawls to the front seat to unlock the door.
the door immediately swings open, chris leaning on the passenger's side to grab his chapstick that’s in the cup holder.
you tap your fingers on your chest, patiently waiting for this weird encounter to be over. you see chris in your vision, looking at you. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes scan your body, but you’re not entirely sure.
“sorry to break this up but you guys need to head back in. everybody’s looking for you,” he says before leaving.
what a buzzkill.
lil skies music blasts throughout the house, scaring you awake from your sleep. it’s the early morning, around 3 AM.
you’re spending the night at the triplet’s house, your dress now substituted with one of matt’s shirts. you must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because once you adjust to the dark you realize you’re in the living room.
you check your phone, squinting at the sudden brightness.
my boy💙
went out on a long drive, i’ll pick up some mcdonald’s when i’m on my way back :)
2:47 AM
and you know nick’s staying over at madi’s tonight, so the culprit for the disruption is no other than chris sturniolo.
you groggily lift yourself off the couch, shuffling your way down the hall. you don’t bother knocking, and you make your way into chris’s room. his back is facing you, the tone in his muscles showing.
you clench your thighs without knowing.
he’s doing something on his phone when you mumble, but he clearly can’t hear you.
“can you turn that down? i’m trying to sleep,” you say louder, and he turns his head to you. he pauses the music, walking over.
“what?”
“please lower that. you woke me up,” you say lowly, staring at your feet.
he chuckles. “sorry.”
he takes his finger and lifts your chin so you look at him, his eyes set on your mouth as he takes his thumb and grazes it over your bottom lip. “you’re not as much of a prude as i thought.”
“e-excuse me?!” you stutter shockingly, another chuckle coming from the boy.
“you think i don’t know that you rode my brother in the middle of the club? then you guys went to the car to finish the job, no?”
your face goes pale. you understand how he knows about the car since he caught you guys, but not when you were at the club.
“h-how do you—”
“i observe.” he cuts you off. “i watched the way you bounced on his dick. can’t forget the pretty sounds i heard from the cracked window matt forgot to close.”
your cheeks become hot, your thighs yet again squeezing tight.
“thank you.” chris smiles at the bartender, spinning himself in the barstool to look around the club. this isn’t quite his scene, but he couldn’t miss out on a friend’s birthday.
he sips his pepsi, his elbow resting on the bar’s surface before landing his eyes on where your guy’s seats are.
you’re bouncing subtly on matt’s lap, face turning in different expressions.
chris grabs his crotch, his dick twitching in his pants as it threatens to grow at the sight. he’s not stupid and knows exactly what you’re doing.
his brother whispers something into your ear before placing you back next to him and taking your hand to walk out of the building.
he waits a few minutes before following you guys, leaving a tip for the bartender before doing so.
the van catches his eye instantly, the windows slowly becoming fogged and moans echoing in the air. your moans, the moans he wants to cause more than anything.
his plan to not get hard fails when his pants tighten, the sinful sounds becoming more intense when the car starts to rock.
before he knows it, he’s jogging over and banging on the window.
“you-you pervert!” you shout, wanting to remove chris’ stupid thumb from your lips; but you don’t. he hums, leaning to where his lips ghost yours.
“yet you’re turned on by it.” he whispers. “you’re telling me you’re not dripping between your legs right now?”
“i-i’m not.”
he takes his other hand and reaches under the shirt, his theory confirmed true.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
the same smirk matt had in the club when he realized you were bare underneath. your boyfriend matt. his fucking brother.
pull yourself together, y/n.
“you sure?” chris says, passionately connecting his lips with yours. he rubs two fingers on your slick slit, your breath hitching.
pull. yourself. together. y/n.
he rubs once more before inserting the fingers into you, making you break the kiss and moan pathetically.
the thumb that was on your lip now goes into your mouth, and you suck on it. your hands bunch on his chest.
he lifts one of your legs to make his fingers plunge deeper into you, curling to hit the right spot. the leg he’s holding quivers desperately. “is the needy bitch going to cum on my fingers?”
you hum approvingly on his thumb before he removes it, your eyes never leaving contact with his. you tense, smearing your white liquid on his fingers.
brain foggy, you grumble two syllables. he heard you right, but wants to hear it loud and clear. “what was that?”
“fuck me.”
because he certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, he picks you up and props your ass up on his mattress.
he unties his plaid pajama bottoms, grabs your neck, and shoves your face into the pillows. he smacks your ass. hard.
“such a bad girl.” he slaps again, aligning his tip with your entrance. “gonna let me fuck you, even though you’re dating my brother.”
he spanks you three more times, tears building up in your eyes from the pleasurable pain. you grip onto the pillows when he starts to slowly fill you.
you utterly hate to admit this, but he’s bigger than matt. you gasp loudly, your pussy morphing into the shape of his dick when he’s in.
he throws his head back, eyes closed as he smiles smugly. he’s been wanting to do this for months.
his hips start rutting into you harshly, squeals leaving your lips the deeper he gets.
it gets to the point where he pulls out to just the tip and slams back into you. he repeats this action over and over again.
you bite down on the pillow to suppress your loud moans, the headboard banging against the wall.
he squeezes your throat tighter. “you filthy fucking thing.”
his hand meets your asscheek once again, and your body shakes from a sob. “he-e’s coming— back— soon.” you manage to say between whines.
“good.” his tip reaches your spot, your toes curling at the bliss. “maybe he can walk in to see his girl creaming all over my cock instead of his.”
once he said that you smear your release around him. his jaw slacks, quickly grabbing his phone that he threw on the bed the moment you came in.
you came in just as he was about to pull up your instagram — like he always does — whenever he needs something to masturbate to.
this, however, is so much better.
“c-cumming inside you.” he moans lowly, shooting his load deep into you.
his thrusts become slow, panning the camera to the mess you guys just made. “christ.” he whispers, pulling out to watch you leak his cum. “look at that.”
you’re not able to catch your breath when he’s fucking into you again. this time, faster.
hoarsely whimpering, he removes the hand from your neck and instead grabs your hair. he pulls your head up from the pillows, your moans now echoing throughout the room.
chris brings the camera in front of your face so you can see yourself.
you’re completely wrecked, strands of hair that he’s not holding all up in your face. your mouth’s open wide, spit dangling from your bottom lip and onto the sheets below. eyes rolling back when that familiar spot gets hit, spilling tears.
“say hi to matt, ma.”
“mm— h-hi matt,” you say incoherently, chris letting go of your hair, your head falling face down back on the pillows.
he brings the phone to his face, still drilling into you like he’s never going to stop.
he grins at the camera, lips swollen and red. “this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”
he props his phone against the lamp on his nightstand, making sure to have a good angle. especially of the shirt you're wearing, specifically matt’s pink shirt with a teddy bear on it. the shirt that he loves on you.
“daddy!” you whimper, too late to take it back. “g-gonna cum, daddy.”
you let out a series of scream-like moans, chris hissing from the back.
“fuck, don’t do that to me.” he exhales, throbbing in your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight. all of this cum for me?”
“ah— mhm!” you choke out.
chris isn’t so far behind, but he wants to hold it for his own sake.
he turns your head on its side so you can look at the camera once again, his hand returning to your throat. “see that? this is exactly what the whore needs to look like.” he says into the phone as if he’s talking to someone. as if he’s talking to matt. “no thought in that brain except the feeling of a cock fucking the shit out of her; until she begs you to stop.”
he knew that the last part of that sentence was coming soon because your eyes were starting to close.
your pussy pulses, another orgasm threatening to escape. you try to crawl out of his grip, but he pushes you back onto him more. this brand new spot he’s hitting has you seeing stars.
“don’t run from me now, my dirty little cumslut.” he pants, looking at the dick imprint inside your abdomen. “holy shit. you’re fucking bulging.”
“please, daddy!” you mewl. “s-stop! it’s too much, chris—” he squeezes your ass, catching your mistake. “daddy! to-too much!”
in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure if you really want him to stop.
“i know, angel. just a few more minutes, okay? i know you have one more. what are we at, four now?”
“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it.” his hand makes contact with your ass, your eyes shooting open. it has to be bruised at this point. “this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”
“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”
your body weakens, becoming limp. you’re in an overwhelming amount of pleasure you can’t even moan anymore. instead, you pant like a dog and stick your tongue out because of the overstimulation. your body rocks at the inhuman pace he’s going. your vision starts to fade, like you’re going to pass out.
pure ecstasy, is what it is.
his thrusts become sloppy, slowing down before coming to a halt. he moans, the feeling of his sticky substance filling your womb. “thank you, daddy. thank you, thank you!” you chant, eyes closing.
he pulls out slowly, the squelching noise music to his ears. there’s a string of cum connecting from his tip to your cum-filled cunt.
he takes his phone, doing a shot of the way your abused hole swallows his ropes of white. “this pussy let me breed you real nice.”
spreading your folds to do one final show of his cum spewing out, you jolt from the sensitivity of his finger pushing it back inside you. poor thing, red and swollen. the flutter of it making it easier for his orgasm to spill out. he ends the video, whispering praises into your ear while kissing your face.
you hear a camera click behind you as he snaps a quick photo of the disgusting mess you two made. the smell of sex floods your nostrils.
chris isn’t that much of an asshole to where he’ll actually send the video to matt. he’s cocky, only having the sex tape to himself to jerk off to. it’ll boost his ego tremendously, that’s for sure.
what’s in the back of his mind is if matt pisses him off in the slightest, he’ll have no problem showing him what his girlfriend looks like clamping down on his brother’s dick.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @rootbeerworshiper @heartlessturniolos @chrisloyalgf @yoinkurnanuhoe @smoothies-are-cool @strtuniolo @1800chokedathoe @sturniolowhore @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!
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Set The World On Fire
Chapter One
Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.
He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger
Mafia AU
1.9K
Series Masterlist
PLEASE READ!!: While this story is a part of the NNTA universe, the reader is no longer Lando's sister. To not spoil how people read NNTA, Lando's sister will not be given a name in this story. She will be referred to, but only as his sister (because it's very key for the plot)
They went on three dates before she worked out who he was. He was attractive, sure, but there wasn't much else to him. On the third date, she worked out what a waste of space he was.
The first instance was when she wolf whistled a waitress. It was disgusting, she was disgusted, and the waitress was definitely going to spit in their food. But she stuck it out, making a promise to herself that she wasn't going to call him after that date.
"Well," she said somewhat awkwardly after they had paid their bill, splitting it down the middle (he definitely had more drinks and the more expensive meal, but whatever. If she had to pay more than she owed to get away from him, then so be it). "Are you still okay to drive me home?"
"Sure thing, babe," he said as they walked across the car park, heading towards his shitbox of a car.
She scrunched up her face at that. Why did he have to call her babe? She wasn't anything to him and she never would be.
He got into his car and started his engine. For a moment she thought he was going to drive away without her, leave her stranded at the restaurant.
She quickly got into the car, kept her small back on her lap as he sped away. Everything was a blur, to the point where she couldn't tell which way they were going.
Turns out, it was the wrong way. The car stopped outside of a building with bright, neon lights. It was near blinding, and it definitely wasn't where she lived. "What the fuck," she couldn't stop herself from saying. "Why are we at a strip club?"
"Relax, baby." There was that word again. "Just come in with me. I'll by you a drink and then I'll take you home."
Yeah, she wasn't moving from the car. Anger simmered just bellow her skin as she fished through her bag and pulled out her phone. The phone she was sure she had charged before she left the house. So why the fuck was it dead?
She was at her wits end. "Well, you can stay here if you want," her date said. "But, uh, make sure you keep the car door locked."
It was the way he said it that had her climbing out of the car with him. She kept a tight hold of her bag as she followed him into the nearly empty club. It would be nearly empty, it was 7pm on a Thursday.
As soon as they were into the strip club, her date made a beeline for the bar. She followed him, out of necessity. After getting himself a drink, he sat himself in front of the stage.
Looking a little like a lost dog, she followed him to the stage. This was his regular spot, this much was clear by the way he greeted the other men around him. "The big boss is here," One of the men said to him. He nodded and looked back of his date, but she didn't hear it.
He smirked. How was the big boss going to act now that there was a woman in the club, one that wasn't working for him. He was known for being an asshole and abrupt when talking to people in his club. Lets just say, nobody stuck around for his friendly demeaner.
Whether the pair could feel the bosses eyes on them or not, he was watching. He sipped his whisky from his private booth at the back of the club as he watched.
She wasn't comfortable, that was for sure. She looked so uncomfortable sat in front of the stage, her eyes fixated on her shoes. She didn't once glance at the girls on the stage.
Lando felt so fucking sorry for her.
But he sat back and watched for just a few minutes more. Maybe they were just stopping in on their way to do something else. He didn't take his eyes off of her though.
They weren't going anywhere. After a good twenty minutes they hadn't moved, and she still looked uncomfortable.
Lando put his almost finished whisky down onto his table and stood up. Nobody would touch it if he left it there, he knew. Not if they wanted to keep their lives. He ran his fingers through his curls, shoved his hands into his pockets, and strode over.
The men sat around her were looking around at the others girls spread around the club. When they spotted Lando they visibly stiffened up and turned back around, facing the stage in front of them.
Lando was noticeably calm as he walked over, something they weren't used to. Normally, when Lando was walking over, it was to throw somebody out of his club. Normally, when Lando walked over, he was visibly angry.
But not this time. People moved their legs out of his way so that Lando could get past them, get to the girl sat in the middle of his club. Nobody looked at him as he tapped the girl on her shoulder.
"Excuse me," he said and she turned towards him, looking up at him. Unlike everybody else in the club, she didn't look terrified of him. "Can I help you, Darling?" He asked, although he didn't quite pronounce the 'g'.
He was... wow. Dressed in a black suit with the top few buttons of his white shirt opened, his blue eyes staring into her own. His skin was naturally tanned and his hair in dark curls. He was gorgeous. Once she saw him, it was impossible to look away from him.
"I don't work here." Why the fuck did she just say that? She hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't stop herself. If this man was after a lap dance, she couldn't help him out.
Lando chuckled as he shook his head. But it wasn't a proper chuckle, one designed to make her feel foolish. "I asked if I can help you. Are you okay?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm just waiting to be taken home."
Again, that wasn't what Lando asked. But he didn't push on the matter. Instead, he offered her his hand. "Come with me to the back office and I'll call you a cab," he said.
She didn't know anything about this man. He didn't look old enough to be the club owner, but he certainly looked rich enough to own a club. There wasn't a lot to lose at this point, she realised as she took his hand and stood up. And, if he ended up being a creep, she could always just kick him where the sun doesn't shine and make a run for it.
In the back office of the club, he offered Y/N some water. She accepted the bottle (which had never been opened) and sat on the couch opposite his desk.
She watched as he called up a cab and gave the company the address. As soon as he had confirmation, he put the phone down and looked across the desk, looking at her. "Bad date?" He guessed.
"Bad date," she answered. He kept looking at her as he came around to lean against his desk. So, she continued speaking. "I wasn't going to call him again after tonight, and I think he knew that," she muttered, resting her back against the couch cushions.
"I don't think I've been on a date in years," he said and laughed to himself. But, again, it wasn't a genuine laugh.
That was when she properly looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles beneath them. His knuckled were bruised and bloody, as though he had been punching at walls. "Hey," she said as she put her bottle of water down. "Are you okay?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Didn't get close. "Just life," he answered simply. But she kept looking at him, the way she moved her head towards him urging him on. "Do you really wanna hear my problems?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just a stranger in a strip club with nothing better to do but wait. Of course I want to hear your problems."
So, Lando told her. He told her all about the arranged marriage between his sister and another man, something set up by his parents. He told her that his step mother was dead and his father was close, and there was no way to get out of it. He didn't tell her who his family was, what they did, of course. The pretty stranger in his club didn't need to know that.
When he was finished, she let out a low whistle. "That was... heavy. Do you even know the guy?"
He let out a dry laugh. "Yeah," he answered. "Yeah, we know him." But he didn't elaborate.
Suddenly his phone rang on his desk. He twisted his body, picked it up and placed it against his ear. His conversation was quick, just a few words exchanged between both parties. "That was your cab," he said to her. "They're outside."
Picking up her bag and the bottle of water, she walked out of the back office. He had his hand on the small of her back as he gently pushed her through the club, towards the doors.
Just as he had said, the cab was outside. He pulled open the door for her, holding her bag as she climbed in. "Thank you," she said before he shut the door.
He smiled, but this one seemed a little more genuine. He didn't shut the car door right away, instead leaning forward. "If you ever find yourself in need of company late at night, this door is always open," he said as he pointed his thumb back towards the club.
She looked past him, looking at the club. "Will you be there?" She asked, looking at him through her lashes.
He said something quickly to the cab driver and reached inside of his suit jacket, reaching into the inside pocket. He quickly pulled out a small white card and placed it into her hand.
"Call this number first and I definitely will be," he said and went to shut the door.
But she stopped him. "Who am I asking for?"
"Lando."
The car drove off, driving away from the club. She kept looking back at the club, looking back at the handsome man shrouded in neon. He stayed standing outside of the club, watching the car, until it turned the corner and disappeared.
Soft music filled the car. Y/N kept her head against the window as she told the driver her address as he took her home. He didn't try to make conversation, which she was grateful for.
When he stopped outside of her home she climbed out of the car and fished around in her bag for some money. But the cab driver held up his hand. "It's already been taken care of, Ma'am," he said.
"Really?" Y/N asked. How could a strangers kindness stretch this far?
The cab driver nodded his head. "Mr Norris must really like you."
Mr Norris.
Who the fuck was Mr Norris?
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#i know i keep complaining about this but im gonna do it again lol#im on call this weekend#which is never fun but like u know somebody has to be its whatever#but im on w my boss#who is....many very colorful words but imma sum it up and say batshit crazy#and super difficult to work with#and no matter how hard u try to please her shes likely to bitch u out and take her problems out on u#not to mention like the work itself like she never values anybody elses opinions or even listens#shes very hoity toity 'im the doctor so i know everything and youre gonna do what i say'#which is uhhhhhhhh not very productive for patients#i literally have had to advocate for my patients to get pains meds after being hit by a car....and she wouldnt do it#like what the actual fuck#rant#save me from this woman ugh
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based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)
🤍 also on ao3
Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.
His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.
Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–
It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.
He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."
No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".
No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...
No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.
He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?
The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.
He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.
Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.
---
He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.
Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.
He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.
The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.
"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.
After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.
"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."
He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–
Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.
After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.
"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.
"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.
---
He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.
It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.
And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”
It makes him want to scream.
Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.
“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.
“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.
“Nothing.”
She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“
“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”
“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.
That’s why Robin is here, right?
The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.
She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.
“Steve, they’re kids.”
“Yeah, well. So am I.”
He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.
He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.
But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.
---
And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.
But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.
“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.
“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”
“Hey!”
“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”
“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.
She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”
“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.
“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”
The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.
“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.
“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.
“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”
“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.
“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.
But it also hurts.
Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.
The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.
He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.
Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.
Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.
And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”
Steve nods. “Sometimes.”
Eddie hums. “That sucks.”
He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.
“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”
Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.
“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“
“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.
“You what?!”
“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”
“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”
And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.
But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.
Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.
And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.
“It’s okay, Dustin.”
“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”
“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.
“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”
“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”
He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.
“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“
“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”
And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Shut up.”
And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.
“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”
“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”
“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”
She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.
“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”
“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“
“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”
“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”
Right. The end of the world.
With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.
Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.
He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.
---
In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.
They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.
"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.
"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."
He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.
The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.
That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.
Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.
"Will you be okay, Steve?"
"Sure."
Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.
"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."
"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."
Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.
"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–
"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.
Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."
"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"
Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."
"Hey, that's my part."
"Say it when you come back, then."
This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.
"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."
And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.
He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.
Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.
It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.
God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...
He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.
But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.
"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."
And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.
They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.
Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.
It's over. It's done.
They did it. They really did it.
Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.
---
Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.
"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.
"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."
"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.
Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.
"Uh, what's going on?"
Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."
Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–
"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."
He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.
Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."
"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."
"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.
"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."
"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.
"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."
"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."
"Hey!"
"No, she has a point."
Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.
"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."
And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.
"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."
"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."
"He’s our brother," Dustin says.
"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.
"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.
“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.
“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.
---
In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.
Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.
And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.
#stranger things#steve & the party#steddie#steddie fic#but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way#this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit#dio words#actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know
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#ill get the mri results eventually but man.#currently having very limited transportation options and being stuck with somebody who REFUSES to help me pick up my fucking insulin is#something#this lady has threatened to call the cops on me like 3 times i should mention. for no other reason then slightly raising my voice when#in a frustrated overload#oh and i also asked her once to turn down her car music cause it was fucking with my sensory issues and she. looked me in the eye and turned#it all the way up#idk when im getting another provider cause none of them wanna work with me because i mostly just need transportation and not much else#and they wanna do more then that. nevermind that theyre ok with taking my brother down to myrtle beach to fuck around multiple times#existence is hell existence is hell#woody speaks
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Rating: G
tags: post-breakup, angst, hurt, wedding, happy ending
prompt: Love is what makes you brave (@sidekick-hero)
For @steddielovemonth
AO3
Should he be here?
No.
Was he going to continue to be here for as long as he could take it?
Hell yeah.
Sitting behind the wheel of his stupid expensive car that would have stuck out anywhere else.
But not here.
Not amongst the BMW’s and Bentleys and limos and wedding cars.
It had been three years.
Three long and fucking lonely as shit years since he’d last seen Steve.
Three years of writing songs about him.
Three years of dodging interviewer questions about who the songs were about.
Three years of the fans creating some nebulous phantom person that all the songs must be about because they all fit together like puzzle pieces if looked at correctly.
Three years since Steve broke his heart.
Eddie wasn’t even really sure what had possessed him to be here right now.
He hadn’t been invited.
But some kind of insane impulse had grabbed him when he’d first gotten into the car fourteen hours ago and it hadn’t left him since.
He needed…
He didn’t know what he needed.
He didn’t know what he expected.
His passenger door opening and a figure sliding into the seat nearly scared the life out of him, so lost in thought and with eyes laser focused on the church doors, he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching.
He was forced to remember again that he was no longer some nobody living in bumfuck nowhere Indiana, he was a somebody, with a fucking penthouse apartment in New York City and an extremely recogniseable look.
Maybe he should have locked the doors.
And maybe he should have dressed down a little before he jumped in the car. Gotten rid of some of the jewellery, covered up the tattoos, tied his hair back, not worn the kind of clothes that always got him noticed in Hawkins in the wrong way. He was more noticeable now more than he ever had been.
He was the most successful person to ever make it out of this shithole town and the town itself loved to pretend they always encouraged him.
They advertised it proudly.
Like they hadn’t tried to drown his passions at every opportunity.
But it wasn’t some crazed obsessive fan now staring at him from his passenger seat, dressed in a pair of black slacks and an overly frilly lavender blouse, probably a compromise so she didn’t have to be stuffed into a dress.
Eddie tensed his hands around the wheel while Robin continued to stare at him like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, bewildered more than anything. He supposed that was fair.
There was no reason for him to be here after all.
He’d gotten no hint from Steve that this wasn’t what he wanted, none of the kids had said as much either but…
It just didn’t feel right.
It felt like Steve was falling back into a pattern.
Living the life that had been mapped out for him by society.
Go to school.
Get a good job.
Get married to a nice girl.
Eddie didn’t even know if the person that would be meeting Steve at the end of the aisle in about fifteen minutes was a nice girl.
He didn’t know anything about her at all.
Didn’t know anything about Steve either.
All he knew were the little tidbits the kids would occasionally drop by accident when they would forget they weren’t all one tightly knit group anymore.
Not since Steve shoved him out the door and told him that it wouldn’t work, it could never work.
Eddie suspected Steve had been looking at shadows on a cave wall for so long he had no idea there was a whole world just outside. That they didn’t have to live their lives the way everyone else did.
But there was nothing for it, he couldn’t force Steve to take him back.
He’d told Eddie he didn’t want him anymore so…
Eddie went and got the life he’d dreamed of since he was a kid. He got the success and the accolades and he was being heard.
But it was empty. It had always been empty.
He had never been able to move on.
Not really.
And now… now he was here.
“Hey Buckley.” Eddie shot her a tight grin. “It’s been a while.”
And it had been. Because along with losing Steve, he’d also lost Robin.
It was understandable, really.
Robin was Steve’s ride or die and though he’d heard she’d raised holy hell, trying to figure out why Steve had thrown his happiness away, as she herself had said, she was still, first and foremost, Steve’s soulmate.
She would be by his side come hell or high water and though she wasn’t happy with his decision, there was also nothing she could do about it.
Steve was a grown man and he’d made his choice.
“What are you doing here, Eds?” She asked again with so much concern, it was like she was worried Eddie was ripping out his own heart over again just by being here.
Maybe he was.
But he was here now.
He couldn’t leave until it was all over.
“Is he happy?” Eddie asked, rather than answer her question. They both knew why he was there anyway. “Is he happy with Miss… Whatever Her Name Is?”
Robin looked at him for a long time, eyes darting all over his face, chewing on her lip.
She took a big breath in.
“He’s… content, I think. They both are. I think they’ve both… made themselves content with the situation.”
“Right.” Eddie nodded, tearing his gaze away and staring down at his hands.
He could feel Robin’s eyes boring into the side of his head.
“But not happy.” She said into the silence. “He’s not- I’ve never seen him as happy as he was when he was with you.”
Eddie tightened his jaw, tried to blink away the wetness in his eyes.
“Then why did he end it?”
“I think he was scared.” She almost whispered. “I think he didn’t know what to do with it all. There was no rule book to follow.”
“But that’s the best part, Rob.” Eddie sighed out. “There’s no rules for how we’re supposed to live our lives.”
He didn’t turn back to look at her, but he could see her nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.
“I think he’s started to realise that too, recently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you here?” She asked again, no longer willing to put up with his avoidance.
“I don’t know.” He said, mostly honestly. “One last big romantic gesture?”
Robin sighed, a hand on the handle. “Okay, wait here.”
“Hadn’t planned on going anywhere.” He muttered but it was drowned out as she slammed the car door, speed walking her way back to the church where a crowd had begun to gather at the door.
He tried not to let anything like hope bloom in him, he tried to keep any kind of bubble build up and puff him out but it wasn’t that difficult.
Especially when Robin made her way back to the car only a few minutes later, looking far more stressed than she had before and notably, alone.
“So, slight bump in the big romantic gesture plans,” she said, opening the door again but not getting in. “They’re missing.”
“They? Who’s missing?”
“Rita apparently got a call at the hotel before she was supposed to come here and then just disappeared, leaving her engagement ring behind. And then Steve left sometime when we were talking-”
“Left to go where?”
“I don’t know, Edward.” Robin grit out, tensing her fingers around the roof lip but it was more worry than irritation.
“Okay.” Eddie said, shifting the car into gear. “Okay, get in, we’ll go-”
“No. I’m staying here, I need to keep his parents from calling in the National Guard to drag him back by the hair. You go. You know where he is, don’t you?”
Eddie stared at her, opening and closing his mouth until he could finally form his lips around the words “I think so.”
He knew so.
Or at least he hoped he did.
Robin gave him one sharp nod. “Okay.”
She slammed the door closed and turned back to the crowd.
Pulling out of the parking lot of the church, Eddie tried not to panic.
There wasn’t much distance that Steve could have gone but the idea of him going missing still had his heart constricting, full of what if, what if, what if?
It wasn’t very far, but finding somewhere to pull over at the edge of the forest where his car wouldn’t be suspicious wasn’t the easiest thing to do.
Though it was probably easier now than it had been years ago, since he no longer had the van and his shiny, sleek and expensive car would be glanced over for any bored cop looking to bust someone for drugs.
Not so much of an easy target now, huh Callahan?
He had just pulled his car into a clearing that was somewhat hidden when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.
He switched the engine off and was halfway out of the car when he froze, finally seeing the number on screen.
It was Steve. It had to be Steve.
He’d recognise that number anywhere, he knew it off by heart but Eddie had changed numbers at least twice in the last three years.
He hadn’t bothered to add Steve back into his contacts, what would be the point?
It would have just been a temptation on drunken lonely nights.
How the fuck did Steve even have his number?
Eddie tapped the answer button before the call could ring out.
His mouth was dry and his heart was in his throat as he raised the phone to his ear.
“Stevie?” He practically breathed, gripping the door so tight he was surprised he didn't dent the metal.
There was a sound from the other end, like a sigh, like relief or a release of tension.
“Eddie.” Steve said and his voice, different as it was through the phone, was the most painful and comforting thing Eddie thought he’d ever heard. It was followed quickly by a sniffle and a quiet, “Hi.”
Eddie had so many things he wanted to ask.
Why are you calling now?
Where are you?
Why did you run?
How do you even have this number?
Instead he just slammed the car door closed and asked softly “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
A sound came down the line, one that sounded suspiciously like a sob, followed by another sniffle.
“Can’t- can’t I just call to see how you are?”
Eddie didn’t answer as he started to tromp his way through the forest, half worried anything he said would just end up with him begging Steve to call him again and again and again.
But Steve seemed to take his silence as stony.
“Yeah, I-” Steve sniffed. “I guess I deserved that.”
Eddie could practically hear his lip wobbling through the phone and Steve broke down into sobs again.
“Where are you, Stevie?”
“The past.” He muttered out which was as good a confirmation as any that Eddie was heading in the right direction. “I’m- I… I’m sorry to call you right now and you’re out living your life-”
“Are you sober?”
Because it was high stakes at the moment but this was still a lot of emotion for noon.
“Unfortunately.” Steve sighed out and then quietly, so quietly Eddie could barely hear him. “I’m supposed to be getting married today.”
“So I heard.”
It sounded like the air had been punched out of Steve’s chest and the whine he let out after sounded like one of pure pain.
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie had to duck under a branch and as a result, nearly tripped over a root in the ground but managed to right himself.
“You’re sorry for supposed to be getting married?”
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. From- from someone else.”
He came to a stop.
“Oh.”
Not sorry I’m getting married.
Just sorry I’m not the one who told you I’m getting married.
Which, like, Steve didn’t need to apologise to him for getting married.
They weren’t together.
They weren’t a thing.
They didn’t even talk anymore.
Eddie had no right to that information.
Still.
Didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Eddie.” Steve whimpered out, kicking Eddie back into movement again. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Stevie, it’s fine.” He sighed, resigned to his fate now. “You can still go back-”
“No, no.” Steve took a large painful breath in. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I left you. I made you go. How could I do that? Why did I do that? You were- you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I just-”
It sounded like Steve couldn’t speak anymore through hit tears, the raw anguish in his voice making it sound like he couldn’t breathe.
“I pushed you away. I pushed you away. I was so scared and I wanted- I wanted to take it back the second I did it. I wanted to but I couldn’t make myself do it and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry about that, baby. You have to believe me, I’m so sorry.”
The sound of Steve’s sobs were no longer just coming through the phone but were now starting to echo around him from just up ahead and Eddie kept walking.
“I was such a coward. There was no precedent. Nothing in my life was like what I had with you, I didn’t see it anywhere else and I didn’t know what to do. There was just this big vast emptiness in front of me where before there had always been a path, it had always been mapped out, telling me where to go next and I didn’t know what to do about it, I didn’t think it was possible to have-”
Steve cut himself off with another sob and Eddie could see him now, sitting on the dirty forest floor in his brand new designer tux, head bowed into his knees and his back against Skull Rock.
“I’ve made such a mistake, Eddie. I’ve never fucked up like I did with you and if I could take it all back I would. I’d be brave for you, I swear-”
Eddie dropped to his knees in front of him.
“Do you still want to be?”
Steve’s head snapped up so fast he cracked himself hard against the giant rock they used to come to all the time when they were full of young love.
Eddie winced in sympathy but didn’t reach out while Steve stared at him wide eyed, even through the pain.
He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Eddie.” He breathed out, completely disbelieving. “What- wh- what are you-”
“I was at the church.” Eddie said, sitting himself down fully and bringing his own knees up to his chest. “I was… I don’t know what I was doing there. I don’t know what I expected to happen.”
“You…” Steve blinked at him. His face was wet and blotchy and red, his eyes were raw and still swimming and he was still the most beautiful person Eddie had ever laid eyes on. And he was looking at Eddie like he was the most unbelievable thing in the world. “You were there the whole time?”
“Yeah.”
Steve’s hands were twitching around his knees, gripping into the fabric of his dress pants and Eddie could tell he wanted to reach out but he wasn’t sure he could handle that yet.
He needed to know.
He needed to be sure.
He didn’t think he’d survive it if he let hope back in only to have it pulled away again.
“What happened?”
Steve’s face scrunched up, like he was trying to push the tears back and he brought his hands up to his face, digging the heels into his eyes.
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with it. Rita, she… she- she’s not you. I couldn’t let her live a life with me waiting for me to love her like I still love you because it’ll never happen. I could never love anyone like I still love you. And she… she’s the same, she didn’t want this, she never wanted this but it was what we’d been told to want for so long and… she couldn’t do it either. So we both- we both ran and I want… I want to be brave for you, baby.”
Eddie crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his lips into his skin, silent and thinking.
He couldn’t take it if Steve did what he did to him again.
He just couldn’t.
And why did it take Steve getting to this stage for him to decide on what he wanted?
Would it have still happened the same way if Eddie hadn’t come?
Would Steve have cried his heart out here in their spot until he was done talking to Eddie over the phone and gone about the rest of his life?
Would he have let the fear get to him again?
But could Eddie live with himself if he turned this chance down because of his own fear?
It wasn’t even a question.
He’d regret it for the rest of his life.
So he had to choose to be brave too.
He unwrapped his arms from around his knees and spread his legs wider, scooching forward until he had Steve’s curled up body cradled in his.
Steve all but stopped breathing with a dramatic hiccup when he felt Eddie’s legs against his own and when Eddie brought his hands up to encircle Steve’s wrists and pull them away from his face, his eyes were wide and disbelieving.
Eddie pulled Steve’s hands into his chest.
“I need to know you’re sure. I need to know you mean it, okay?”
“I do.” Steve nodded and his words were sure if a little breathy. “I do, Eddie. I promise you. I’ll show you every day. I’ll be brave for you I swear.”
“Because I won’t survive you doing what you did to me again. It nearly killed me the first time, Steve. I can’t go through that again. So you need to be sure.”
Where Steve’s hands were pressed flat against Eddie’s chest, his fingers curled in now, balling up the shirt underneath and holding on tight.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Eddie, I swear to you on… on… Dustin’s mom.”
Despite himself, Eddie felt his face crack into a smile.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Steve asked, though his own smile was slowly blooming, even as he started crying again.
“Yeah. Okay. Now kiss me like you mean it.”
AO3
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#fanfic#robin buckley#steddielovemonth#day 7#love is what makes you brave
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