#trust in Steve he knows what he’s doing
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The Eye of the Hurricane [18] - Boundaries
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Family dinner can get tense.
Word Count: 2500
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
“Charm, how long are you going to keep this silent treatment going?” Bucky’s voice reached you and you kept your focus on Alpine, holding the toy as she smacked it with her paw. “I mean you were the one who went and met up with your ex—”
“A friendly lunch!” you said, lifting your gaze from Alpine to see him leaning against the door of his changing room, his arms crossed. Your heart skipped a beat but you pursed your lips, painfully aware of the petulant expression on your face.
“Does he know it was friendly?”
“What do you want me to do Bucky, make him sign a paper to acknowledge it?” you asked back and he rolled his eyes.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said. “Why did you two break up?”
You frowned. “What?”
“I mean I know how good you are at holding grudges, so being friends with an ex doesn’t sound like you, to be honest.”
You shrugged your shoulders.
“Maybe he didn’t give me any reason to hold a grudge,” you said. “No wonder you wouldn’t get it.”
He gawked at you before running a hand over his face.
“I apologized like one thousand times—”
“You sent me a text couple of months later that said ‘you’re not still angry, are you’?” you corrected him. “Do you even know what an apology means?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh you do know,” you said. “I stand corrected.”
“No I mean, I’m sorry for that night.”
“Not accepted,” you deadpanned, scratching at Alpine’s head as she got bored of the feather and plopped down on the soft sheets. Bucky took a deep breath.
“Why did you break up?”
You lifted your head to roll your eyes at him. “Why is it important?”
“It’s important to me,” he said as he walked back into his dressing room, then came back with a pair of cufflinks. “Especially if he broke your heart.”
The idea of Bucky being angry at someone for breaking your heart was so absurd when he was the one who tore your heart out in the first place, but you chose not to comment on it.
“We just weren’t a good fit,” you said. “We were both idiots, to be honest.”
“You had him checked though?” Bucky asked, still busy with putting his cufflinks on and you shot him a glare.
“No Bucky, that was my first rodeo,” you deadpanned. “I just date civilians without making sure they can be trusted.”
“And now?”
“I had him checked when he moved into the city and first made contact with me,” you said. “He still can be trusted.”
“That’s where we disagree, Charm.”
“Have you trusted anyone in your life, Bucky?” you asked, exasperated. “Except Steve and Sam, that is.”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“I trust you,” he pointed out, making your heart skip a beat and you stared at him for a couple of seconds, then forced out a scoff.
“Yet here you are, questioning me about that lunch and him in general?”
“That has more to do with him than you, you know that,” he replied and you leaned back on the pillows, Alpine jumping to curl up in your lap.
“Either way,” you muttered and stole a look at him as he got into his jacket. “We have dinner at 8 tonight with your mom and dad, don’t forget.”
Bucky threw his head back with a groan. “I still think we should skip that.”
“It’s the second time Winnifred asked,” you reminded him. “We’re going.”
“Fun,” he grumbled as he came closer to scratch at Alpine’s head, then pressed a kiss on top of your hair, making you bite back a smile. “I’ll see you tonight then?”
“Mm hm, try not to kill anyone until then.”
“I’ll try,” he said and walked out of the bedroom, making you heave a sigh as you looked down at Alpine who was purring.
“Dinner with George and Winnifred,” you muttered. “Yeah. Should be fun.”
*
It wasn’t that having dinner with George and Winnifred was something new for you. You had spent your entire childhood with Becca, not to mention your families had been close since you two were little, so tonight was supposed to be just relaxing.
In theory, that was.
Yet, a mere minute after stepping a foot into the house you realized that would not be the case. Bucky had texted you saying he would be a couple minutes late, and while the food was about to be ready, George was still in his office.
“You know how they get with business,” Winnifred told you as you sat next to Becca on the couch. “I’ll just check the kitchen, excuse me.”
“No problem,” you said as she walked away and you turned to Becca. “Do you know what’s happening?”
“Apparently my father and your father had a very long phone call,” Becca said without lifting her gaze from her phone, texting who you could only assume was Leila. “I have no idea why Bucky is late, but I know for a fact that daddy won’t like that.”
You bit inside your cheek, crossing your arms.
“Great,” you muttered. “I’m guessing Ian keeps dripping poison in my dad’s ear and now George is getting affected as well.”
Becca let out a small laugh.
“It’s not like daddy can do anything,” she murmured. “Bucky took over already.”
“No but he can make things quite difficult.”
“Bucky is used to that,” Becca said and you turned sideways to look at her better.
“So you didn’t bring Leila?” you asked as if trying to tease her and she scoffed.
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “I don’t want them to scare her off.”
“Give her some credit, will you?” you asked. “That car chase didn’t exactly scare her off.”
“If it came down to choosing between a car chase and my parents, I’d say the car chase is much safer,” she told you, making you bite down a grin.
“I get what you mean,” you said as Winnifred walked back into the living room again.
“The food is ready,” she said. “Come on, to the dining room.”
Becca threw her arm over your shoulder as you both followed her to the dining room and you were just about to take your seats when George walked into the room as well.
“Aw my dearest girls,” he said, first kissing Becca’s cheek and then yours. “I missed you two!”
“Hi George.”
“Hi daddy!” Becca gave him a bright smile and Winnifred motioned at the table.
“Sit down, sit down!” she said. “The chef spent the whole day working on this, I hope you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will, I’m starving,” you said as you sat down and George looked around the room.
“And where’s Bucky?”
“He’s going to be a couple of minutes late,” you said. “He texted me just now.”
George stole a look at Winnifred, then shook his head.
“That boy needs to work on his time management skills,” he said, making you pull your brows together and Winnifred waved a hand in the air.
“He’s just busy with work,” she said. “It’s understandable.”
You shot them a smile.
“He’s just giving me the time to talk about him without him present,” you joked, making George chuckle.
“And how is married life, Y/N?”
“It’s wonderful,” you said airily. “I have nothing to complain, really. Which, you know how unlike me that sounds.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Winnifred said. “You and Bucky…You two were explosive around each other until very recently.”
“Thin line between love and hate,” Becca said with a grin before sipping her drink and Winnifred shook her head.
“Bucky never hated you Y/N, you know that.”
You made yourself busy with your food and took your fork to your mouth, nodding.
“I know,” you said after swallowing your bite. “We just had um…history, in a way.”
“And isn’t it wonderful how it worked out?” George said. “As I’ve told Bucky before—”
“Hi everyone,” Bucky’s voice cut him off as he walked into the room and came straight to kiss you on top of your head before taking his seat beside you. “Sorry I’m late, something came up.”
George heaved a sigh of displeasure as if he was trying to contain himself, and Bucky raised his brows at him but Winnifred cleared her throat.
“Oh not a problem sweetheart, we’ve just started.”
“Thanks,” Bucky said as a maid filled his glass and turned to Becca. “You didn’t bring Leila?”
“I asked the same thing,” you said with a small grin and Becca made a face.
“No thank you,” she said. “I’d rather it if you guys didn’t scare her off.”
“Well—”
“Perhaps it’s better that Becca is taking her time,” Winnifred said. “To make sure she can be trusted. She is a civilian after all.”
Bucky tried to hide his smirk as he sipped his drink.
“You haven’t even met the girl yet mom,” he reminded her. “It’s a bit early for you to not approve.”
“It’s not that I don’t approve!” Winnifred said. “It’s just…perhaps it’d be better if Becca were dating someone in business, that’s all I’m saying.”
You tried not to roll your eyes but Becca shot her a look, then turned to Bucky.
“See? Exactly why my girlfriend is not here.”
“Nah, I agree that it was the best idea for this time,” George said. “Considering tonight’s topic at least. Bucky, we need to talk.”
Bucky frowned slightly and you sat up straighter, your stomach doing an unpleasant flip.
“About what?” Bucky asked and George licked his lips.
“What is this I hear about you letting Y/N get involved in the business?” he asked. “Arthur called me, he’s worried out of his mind.”
“Nobody is ‘letting’ me do anything,” you said, trying your hardest to control the defensive tone in your voice. “If my father talked to you, you can just tell me, George.”
Bucky vibranium hand covered yours on the table and you felt a fluttering in your stomach before you turned your attention to George who shook his head.
“Y/N honey, I get that you want to be a part of it,” he said with the same condescending tone your father tended to adapt whenever he talked about you becoming a part of the business and Bucky’s jaw clenched as you narrowed your eyes. “But it’s not the best idea. Bucky agrees, I’m sure.”
“I don’t,” Bucky pointed out without missing a beat. “And watch your tone while you’re talking to my wife.”
The warmth spread over your cheeks. “It’s fine, Buck.”
“No it’s not.”
Winnifred cleared her throat. “Perhaps we could talk about it later on.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” Becca muttered, leaning back to sip her drink and George put his fork down.
“Bucky,” he said like a warning. “It’s wonderful that you two are happy and in love, don’t get me wrong. But when it comes to my business—”
“I think you mean my business,” Bucky deadpanned and a silence fell upon the table, nervousness filling your system. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to decide whether you should step in or not, but George beat you to it.
“I didn’t put you to the top just so that you can ruin the business, Bucky.”
Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped and Bucky let out a furious breath.
“You didn’t put me anywhere,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “I proved myself over and over.”
“Why don’t we all—”
“And where would you be without me?” George asked him and a furious breath left your lips.
“Alright, this is enough,” you said with a click of your tongue and stood up. “We’re leaving. Come on Buck.”
“Y/N—” Winnifred started as Bucky stood up, still holding your hand.
“See you later,” he told Becca and his mom, and you both walked out of the dining room and made your way through the foyer to step out of the house. He followed you to the car and you told the driver to drive you back to your place, then got in with Bucky.
Bucky didn’t speak a word all the way until you two got home, clearly lost in his own mind and you didn’t want to push him before he was ready. You picked up Alpine who rushed to greet you, then kissed her and put her down again. Bucky ran a hand over his face and flung himself on the couch in silence, biting inside his cheek while you filled two glasses of whiskey. You handed one to him and he took it, trying to offer you a small smile.
“Sorry about that,” he rasped out and you made a face.
“Your dad is an asshole, it has nothing to do with you,” you said. “It’s my therapist’s favorite topic to be honest with you, I could write a book about it.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah well…”
“Speaking of, we’re going to the couple’s therapy,” you told him, making his head snap up.
“What?” he asked. “Why?”
“So that we can make sure this type of situation isn’t going to happen when you marry your second wife and have heirs,” you told him and he heaved a sigh.
“Y/N…” he muttered and rubbed at his eyes again. “Fuck, my head is killing me.”
You pursed your lips, then kicked at his shoe slightly before walking to the window.
“Can you come here?” you asked and he shot you a look, but did as you asked.
“What are we doing?” he asked and you turned to him.
“Tell me what you see.”
He fixed his gaze on the skyline and shrugged his shoulders.
“The city,” he said and you shook your head.
“No,” you said. “What you’re seeing is the part of the city under your rule. Not George’s, not anyone else’s. Yours.”
He huffed out a tense chuckle. “Mm hm, the part he gave to me.”
“The part you took rightfully,” you corrected him. “No one would let you have it if they thought you didn’t have what it takes, Bucky. We’re not letting Ian take over because he’s not the right choice, do you seriously believe you’d be where you are if it was just George handing you things?”
That made him think for a moment as he swallowed thickly, still keeping his gaze on the skyline and you bumped his shoulder with yours.
“You’re frustratingly good at what you do,” you told him. “Which is going to be a problem when I take over my dad’s business and eventually will have to do business with you, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, it’s fine.”
That managed to coax a chuckle out of him and he turned to look at you better, that fond light playing in his bright blue eyes.
“Thanks Charm.”
Your heart skipped a happy beat and you smiled back at him, then cleared your throat.
“No problem,” you said and walked away from him to grab your phone off the kitchen island.
“I’m ordering pizza by the way,” you called out, your stomach still filled with butterflies for some reason. “We stormed out in style but I’m still hungry. Want some?”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky x reader#mob! bucky#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#mafia!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes#mafia bucky x reader#mob bucky barnes x reader#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky#mob boss!bucky#mob boss bucky barnes#mob au#mob!au#bucky barnes x you
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all things must pass (steve x reader)
summary: steve makes you leave him at the end of the world.
contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; no pronouns used for reader; post-st4; unresolved angst; probably too much swearing :/
i miss this guy and i’m feeling insane over him so have some angst with an ambiguous ending 🫶🏻
Steve’s feet feel particularly heavy when we steps across your foyer. And the packet he has in his hands feels even heavier. He brushes off a few specs of ashes before slamming them down on the table in front of you, lazily eating cereal.
“What the hell is this?” you ask after a moment, grabbing the ledger on top. You know immediately it’s an airline ticket. It makes you feel sick and you push your Cheerios away as your eyes scan the details.
FROM-TO
IND > LA
You want to fucking kill him but you don’t have a chance as he breezes past, grabbing your suitcase out of your walk in closet.
“You depart in twelve hours,” he starts. He recited it in his head the entire way over to make the conversation easier, but the words are hard to get out. “Only take your essentials. When you’re there, a chauffeur will pick you up and take you to the - the - the location.”
“Steve, I’m not fucking going -“
“Yes, you are.” He says sternly. Like you’re a child.
“I’m not going anywhere without you!”
And he know this was coming - this cyclical argument you’ve been having for the last three weeks, your tears, the lump in his throat, uncertainly fogging both of your vision. But it doesn’t make it any easier, any less frustrating.
He says your name low and quiet. A plea. “This is safe. This is where the - the - the people I know told me to send you. That it’s the safest place.”
“And we’re trusting those people now?”
“No. W-well, yes! It - it’s - just - trust me, not them. Okay?” He settles your suitcase on the couch and starts moving around your living room for things he knows you’ll need. A blanket. Medicine. “Anywhere away from here is better, anyway.”
“So you admit it isn’t safe?”
Steve sniffles. “I never said it was.”
You follow him to your bedroom where he begins ripping clothes from your closet. He doesn’t miss the hoodie he leant you a few months ago. It’s laid on top of your suitcase with more shirts and pants.
You grab his arm and try to force it to fall back to his side, but he’s too strong, god damn him. “Steve, quit!” you beg, digging your heels into the ground and tugging on him. “I’m not leaving, Steve. I’m not going unless you go with me.”
“We talked about this.”
As nauseam, in fact. Until the ache in Steve’s throat was excruciating. Until your voice was hoarse and you were heaving. He’s not leaving, and you are.
You tug on him again. “I’ll keep talking about it until you listen to me!”
He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps moving back and forth between your closet and the suitcase. You cry, as hard as you try not to. You really are like a petulant child, stomping your foot, throwing a tantrum. You feel like it’s the only way he’ll listen, but you know the reality is that he still won’t.
“What about me?” you cry. You’re so angry at him, want to say something that’ll make him hurt. That’ll change the expression on his stoic face. You find it in you to refrain. “What about us, Steve?”
Keeps packing. Head down. Jaw clenched tight. He was ready for this fight when he walked in.
“Steve, let the goddamn military handle it. Do - do you honestly think you’re going to save the world?”
“No,” he snaps.
“Then what?”
He doesn’t answer because you already know why. Because he can’t leave Dustin, and Dustin can’t leave El, because apparently she can save the world. And Robin won’t leave Steve who won’t leave Dustin who won’t leave El. And Nancy fucking Wheeler won’t leave Mike who won’t leave El.
It makes you feel insane. Your blood boils and spills over, and over, and over, and it never just depletes. You keep going, keep arguing, trying to talk him out of it until your voice is hoarse. It’s hoarse now, in fact. Last night Steve held you until you shut up, until you cried yourself to sleep, and you had no idea he had already got you a plane ticket out of here. You feel so betrayed it makes your stomach twist and chest ache.
“I can’t live without you,” you try. It’s the third time you’ve pulled this and it seems to get him the most. “Steve, I don’t know what I’d do if - if….”
Steve bites his cheek, stilling, his hands clutching one of your sweaters.
“Why don’t you care?” you push.
He sniffles again, pinches his nose. You’d prefer it if he’d just let himself cry. He’d give in, then, if he let his emotions take over.
“Don’t you love me?”
“Jesus, yes,” he grits, finally looking at you. His eyes are red. “Why do you think I’m makin’ you leave, huh? Why do you think I’m staying?”
“Because you think you’re something you’re not!”
He runs a big hand through his hair so harshly you fear it’ll get tugged out. He walks towards you, holding his arms out, murmuring, “honey,” and as much as it pains you, you back away.
“Don’t,” you say sharply. Your throat aches. “Don’t do that, Steve.”
“I love you.” He sounds exhausted. “I love you, please believe me.”
“If you love me, then come with me.”
“There won’t be a world for us to live in unless we stop this.”
“You aren’t going to save the world.” You’re so desperate for him to listen to you. “The chances are so slim, Steve. Why can’t we love each other while we have time?”
Steve takes a shaky breath. “I won’t let you die without doing something about it first.”
You stare at each other. It’s suddenly dawning on you that nothing you’ll do will ever change his mind. That his chances of living through the next few days are slim. That this is the last time you’ll get to see him. While he’s packing for you and forcing you to take a plane to California.
There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s not like what you’ve seen in the movies you rented from Family Video when Steve had a shift. Before he was yours. When you went because the forest green vest looked so good on him, and he always had some goofy recommendation, and he let his hands touch yours when giving you your change for a moment too long.
You’ve hardly even had him.
“So that’s it?” You can hardly hear yourself.
“I’m doing this for you. I’m doing everything for you. And - and i-if it works, I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear, angel.”
You shake your head, hot tears making their way down your jaw. “No.”
He stills. Looks a little like a deer in headlights. Caught off guard, shocked. Mouth parting slightly before closing again, like he wants to argue but can’t.
What is there to say?
“If you make me get on that plane, Steve….” You shake your head again, swallowing the ache in your throat down.
You stare at each other again. His eyes are one of your favorite things about him. Those saccharine, chestnut and moss colored irises. They scrunch up when he laughs. You used to think about leaving Hawkins and moving somewhere nice, so far away from all of this that Steve grows up to have crows feet around his eyes. That you’d be the one who put them there. And this is the last time you’ll see them.
“You have to go,” he eventually sniffles.
“Please,” you try, for the final time.
He blinks slowly, frowning, chest rising and falling slowly. “I love you,” he whispers. “Please believe me.”
You’re not sure if you can.
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How I would do a sugar daddy/sugar baby AU. (I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me *side eyes the omegaverse*)
I've seen this well done in this fandom, I'm not saying I haven't, but of the ones I've seen they tend to be omegaverse or mafia/shady sugar daddy.
And I want thirty year old rockstar!Eddie with twink Steve. I said what I said. I think we forget that for the most part Steve isn't beefy. When he's "bulked" up, it's his clothing (Eddie's vest) or its his thighs that are "thicc". But Steve (Joe Kerry in particular out of the role) is thin.
So we have rockstar!Eddie with Corroded Coffin touring the country and doing a couple of dive bars because that's where they got their start and hitting up The Hideout, because again that's where they got their start.
Steve, who recently got kicked out of his parents house because he came out with liking men (gay, pan, bi don't care) and lost his job because again with the liking men thing (small town homophobia for the loss!)
So with his last twenty dollars, he decides to hit up on the local bar and drink away his troubles and maybe even get laid for a warm place to sleep tonight.
He gets dressed in his sluttiest clothes. Crop top, cut off booty shorts, sparkly blue sneaks.
Only he shows up on the night that Corroded Coffin is playing. After paying what he thought was a stiff cover charge (was actually a ticket to see the show) he gets in. He has less money than he hoped but he can only hope that someone is willing to buy him drinks.
He settles in next to the bar and realizes his mistake. The rest of the patrons are dressed in metal gear. Leather, black denim, and lots of chains. Steve doesn't just stick out, he sticks out like a prep in a metal concert.
But he can't afford to go anywhere else, and hopes he doesn't get too harassed tonight. So he keeps he head down and hopes of the best.
Only what he doesn't know is that he has caught the eye of the frontman and lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie Munson. The fact that Steve stands out isn't a detriment, it's a perk.
He wants to find out everything about this boy who stumbled into his enclosure.
The rest of the band is rolling their eyes.
Eddie sends out one of the PAs to make sure that all of Steve's drinks go on Eddie's tab and spends the whole concert watching this guy.
After the concert Eddie sidles up to him and they get to talking. Immediately he picks up that Steve is not old enough to be there. So now he's worried he's under age.
They head out for a smoke and Steve admits that he's not twenty-five like the fake ID says, but nineteen. He shows Eddie his real ID as proof and Eddie is relieved.
They start making out and Eddie takes him to his hotel room to have sex.
In the morning, Eddie asks if he can take him home and Steve starts sobbing. He tells him about his shitty day with shitty parents and shitty boss.
And Eddie's bleeding heart immediately goes out to him and tells him to stay at the hotel for as long as he needs, order room service. Just no booze.
Steve pouts at that but agrees. That as long he stays at the hotel he won't buy booze on Eddie's dime.
Eddie gives Steve his phone number if he needs anything. He transfers the hotel room over to Steve's name, gives him a sultry kiss goodbye and leaves to finish his tour.
Steve doesn't have anywhere else to go and is not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he stays at the hotel. He gets to spend time in the luxurious bathroom with it's fancy shampoos and conditioners and hot tub like bath.
He finds that Eddie keeps sending him clothes and jewelry and suddenly the rich life style that he had with his parents pales in comparison to the extravagant lifestyle Eddie is providing for him.
Through all this Steve is still looking for a job as he doesn't want to overstay his welcome. But news hadn't gotten around town that he was gay and even people he thought he could trust are telling him that they can't hire him.
Eventually he gives up. He talks to Eddie all the time and whenever he feels discouraged Eddie will send him something pretty to cheer him up.
Finally Steve catches the fairy that had been leaving things in his hotel room when he's in the shower or out on the town.
Her name is Robin Buckley and she's a summer intern. Her uncle knew a guy who knew a guy that got her the job. She actually loves it, but she has one more year of high school and her parents won't let her drop out to be a PA for a rockstar.
They're concerned that he'll take advantage of her. Robin thinks it's funny because she's gay. Steve thinks it's funny because Eddie's gay and not into under eighteen year olds.
He tells her his story and over the summer they become best friends. Robin had heard that the Harrington boy had run off so imagine her surprise when Eddie's management had her deliver things to his hotel room. Staying in a hotel room in Hawkins is hardly running away.
Eddie comes back and just continues to throw money and gifts at Steve but doesn't ask for sex again. It's not until Steve tells him that he didn't fuck Eddie for his money or even for a warm bed at that point when he went back to the hotel with him, it was because Eddie cared. And god was that sexy as hell.
When Robin graduates Eddie hires her to be Steve's PA and the pair of them get to travel the world with the band as besties.
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3
a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2
cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.
The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.
Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..
His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.
If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.
Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.
Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"
Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.
Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.
When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.
Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.
Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."
Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.
Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."
Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.
With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.
Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."
Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.
He can never let Eddie know that.
"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."
Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."
Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."
Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."
Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.
Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.
Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.
"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
Steve is running late.
It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.
Robin's always right.
Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.
For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.
Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.
Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.
Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.
Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.
Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.
It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.
"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.
"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.
"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."
Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.
Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.
It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.
Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.
With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.
Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.
He knows this is the best he's going to get.
"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."
Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"
Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."
Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."
Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.
He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.
"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.
Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"So I have a big question for you..."
Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.
"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."
Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"
Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"
Oh. "I already have a job."
It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."
"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."
Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."
Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."
He doesn't mean it.
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!
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#guys really i swear there is a happy ending#ive gone full blown story now#yal hyped me up its your fault#also im so excited for the next part hehehe#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#my writing#platonic stobin#ficlet#angst#hurt comfort#i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)#ao3
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Jump then fall | Steve Harrington x reader
Chapter one - everything has changed
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Summary - after 7 years of being split apart from your childhood friend Steve you return to hawkins after your younger sisters tragic death, and parents messy divorce. But the Steve you came back to isn’t the same Steve you left behind.
"Steve!" Steve was surrounded by two of his new friends, Tommy and his girlfriend Carol, as I skipped up to him. They were both in 8th grade like Steve. carol looked me up and down as I stood in front of the trio. Steve had an annoyed look on his face from the moment I opened my mouth. Ever since he became friends with Tommy and Carol, it seemed as if I was just another inconvenience for Steve. "What?" the words are harsh as they come out of his mouth, almost like he was stabbing me right in the heart. But despite the achy feeling in my chest, I continued to talk. "wanna come over after school? My dad is working, so he won-"
"God, you are so annoying," Steve scoffs, which makes my brow furrow together in confusion. Steve has been a sweet boy ever since the moment I met him in kindergarten, but the moment he entered the 8th grade it was like a switch flipped inside of him. He no longer cared about his mother or his real friends he only care about popularity, girls, and being an absolute asshole to everyone around him. "Wh-what?" the words come out quiet and meek, the confusion still setting in as my eyes flicked from him to Tommy and then to Carol. Both his friends chuckled, probably because of the tears pooling in my eyes. "I said, you are fucking annoying! can't you go find someone else to cling onto?"
It seemed like time had stopped. Everyone around us stared, some laughed, and some whispered. Was I sent into a parallel universe because this wasn't the Steve I had grown to know? My chest heaved as I blinked back tears. "I-I'm sorry I thought-I thought-" I couldn't get the words out fast enough because Steve was shouting again before I could finish my sentence. "What that I was, your friend? I only hung out with you 'cause I felt bad that your sister died" This wasn't about Sara. He didn't need to bring her up. He knew it was a sore subject. The wound was still fresh. He knew it was still fresh. This felt like he was sticking a knife into that barely healed wound.
I want to punch him; I want to tackle him down to the ground and kill him just because he brought up my sister. "Your mom didn't even like you, so why should I? She dodged a bullet, leaving you." Maybe it was my mind making it up, but it felt like everyone around me was cackling at his words, at my tears, at my fists clenching and unclenching themselves. it hurt, it hurt so bad because I trusted him. I thought he was my best friend, but he wasn't. he was an evil lying bitch.
Before he can say anything else, I'm running away. I ran out of the school and to the group of telephones that stood outside against the school. I immediately punched in my father's work number as heavy sobs racked through my body. The phone rang a good three times before the secretary, Flo, answered the call.
"Hello, this is Hawkins police station. My name is Flo. How may I help you?" Flo was an older lady with dark hair and big, round glasses that sat on the brim of her nose. I sniffled before wiping my eyes. "He-hey Flo, can I talk to my dad?" I asked. Flo must've not noticed I was crying because she instantly transferred me to my father. The phone rang once before my dad answered, "Yeah what ya need?" Dad asks, "Da-daddy can you-you come get me?" I asked through sobs. I could almost hear the confusion in his voice as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" I don't answer due to the sobs that continue to erupt from my body. My brain was asking the same question repeatedly. Why would he do that to me? I thought we were friends. "I-I-please Dad," he grumbles quietly, "alright I'll be there in a few minutes."
I stood on the sidewalk with my arms wrapped around my body, waiting. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks when my dad's blazer pulled up beside me. I quickly get into the car, throwing my backpack in the back seat, and slamming the door shut before curling up in a ball, leaning my head against the glass. My father didn't immediately begin driving, instead deciding to interrogate me. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"
"Steve," I whispered as more tears fell down my cheek. "Wh-what'd he do?" he asked, brows curling into a furrow. Dad knew Steve as a sweet boy, not someone who could ever hurt me. "He-he said...said I was annoying a-a-and that I was clingy." I said through sobs "And he-he said he was only my friend because he fe-felt bad because Sara die-died, that, m-mom didn't like me so why should he, a-and that she do-dodged a bullet leaving." His blood was boiling, I could tell. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. Before I could even ask him what he was doing, he was already out of the car and halfway towards the front door.
-
I wasn't a total nerd or loser. I was just normal, but I wasn't a Heather or a Carol. I was just me. I wasn't even the attractive type of normal person like Nancy Wheeler. I was just average. I was standing at my locker waiting for my friend Stephanie. We always met up at my locker before walking to English. Steph was popular. Sometimes I ask myself how I scored a friend like her. She was beautiful and kind. Everybody liked her and everybody had a reason why. The boys liked her because she was pretty, and the girls liked her because she was kinder than the other popular girls. Her curly hair bounced as she sauntered up to me. Her lips formed in a sweet smile as her hands pressed against her hips.
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and a green bow was placed in her hair to match her green cheerleading uniform. "You coming to the game tonight?" she asked as she leaned her body against the locker next to me. "Maybe I Dunno. I have a lot of homework tonight," I whisper. I'm momentarily distracted by Steve walking by with his arm around his new plaything, Lisa Franklin, a cheerleader like Steph, but unlike Steph, Lisa was an absolute bitch. Despite the hurtful things Steve Harrington said to me, my crush on him never completely disappeared. Sometimes it felt like it was hidden away, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface.
Whenever I saw him walk by or heard him speak in any of our shared classes, my heart would skip a beat and my feelings for him would come flooding back. It was frustrating and confusing, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I feel two arms wrapping around my body, drawing my attention away from Steve. I glance over and see that it's Shawn Peterson. My relationship with Shawn is a bit complicated. We do things that most people in a romantic relationship do, but we don't use labels because he 'doesn't like labels'.
Shawn's a football player who's popular enough to be kind of friends with Steve. His hair is a dark, chocolate brown that falls in natural waves, framing a face that is both masculine and handsome. But it's his stunning brown eyes that steal the show, sparkling with an intensity that could make any girl weak in the knees. "So, you coming tonight?" he asks as he presses a kiss to my neck. I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe still Dunno though," I whisper. He groans as he presses a kiss just below my ear. "c'mon my parents aren't home tonight; we can go to mine afterward," I hum as I turn so I'm facing him. If I go, I have to tell my dad I'm at Steph's house and if I do that, I have the risk of him calling her parents to verify.
despite the risks, I smile up at him and whisper, "yeah okay sure."
-
I sat on the bleachers watching as Steph cheered. my hands were buried deep into my pockets as I zoned out. No matter how much I loved Steph and Shawn, I'll always find high school football games a little boring. I didn't understand football and no matter how many times Shawn tried explaining it to me, I always left the conversation a little more confused than I was before. I feel someone sit down beside me, but I don't care enough to look to see who it is.
"hey," an all too familiar voice whispers. That makes me look up because I haven't heard that voice talking to me in years. Steve Harrington sat next to me, dressed in the same outfit he had been wearing at school earlier that day. I couldn't stop my heart from beating a mile a minute, and my hands beginning to shake. I can't tell if I'm nervous because I'm scared or because I have feelings for him. "What?" I mutter back, my voice a little harsher than I expected. Despite the fact he had been so mean to me back in 7th grade, I never wanted to be mean back. I couldn't get myself to do it.
"You here for Shawn?" Steve asks, his left hand tapping away at the metal bench. I nod replying "Yup" he hums as he nods awkwardly "Sooo...is he your y'know boyfriend?" I shrug "It's complicated..." he nods, a quiet hum coming from his lips. Why did he want to talk now? He hasn't talked to me in 3 years, but now randomly he wants to talk like nothing ever happened, like he never whispered to his friends when I walked by or spread rumors about me. "Why are you talking to me?" I ask brows curling in confusion as I stare up at him.
"wh-oh I-I just wanted to talk," he mutters back. he didn't want to talk for years before this, so why'd he want to talk now? After everything he's done to me, why now? I'm silent as I search his face for any signs that he's messing with me. But there's nothing, not a smirk, or some type of glint in his eyes, just brows furrowed together in confusion. I decided to look around to see if any of his friends were nearby snickering to themselves, but still, I didn't see any of them.
"wh-what are you looking for?" he asks. I quickly pivot my body towards him again. "Are you fucking with me again Steve?" he lets out a shocked little gasp before hurling into saying "No, no I'm not I just thought we could talk y'know since we haven't in a while" That infuriates me because he knows damn well why we aren't talking. "You know why we haven't talked in a while," I mutter as I scoot away from him. "c'mon y/n that was so long ago," he says, elongating the 'o' at the end of ago. I scoff rolling my eyes. "Yeah fuck you," I say as I scoot away from him a little more. He sighs defeated before asking, "How's your dad?" I shrug, muttering a quiet "fine," he nods awkwardly "You still live in the same house?" I shake my head. "No, moved a few years back."
We sit awkwardly, both of us not speaking as the football team comes running out on the field. Most of the people around us roar in applause and shouts of excitement, including Steve. he stands to his feet clapping before cupping his hands together in front of his mouth and shouting "Yeahhh Shawn!!" I cringe a little inside. Steve, like every other popular guy and athlete at the school, were filled with so much school spirit it made me physically cringe. he sat back down looking at me, as I stared at my feet trying to hold back laughter. "What?" a smile cracks to his lips as I let out a few quiet giggles. "Nothing...nothing" he laughs, and for a few quick minutes our old dynamic came back.
"Seriously? C'mon, what?" cover my mouth with my hand as I continue to laugh. I shake my head, refusing to say anything as our laughter dies down. And just like that, we were back to two estranged friends who hadn't held a conversation for more than 2 minutes for the past 3 years, almost. "y'know your dad punched me that day?" I look up at him, brows furrowing as I whisper a quiet "What?"
"He punched me when I was in eighth grade. " It all comes back, my father storming into the school after admitting to him what Steve had said to me. "good" I wouldn't normally expect my father, a grown man, to punch a 13-year-old, but in that instance, I don't blame him. If I was him and a guy like Steve had told my daughter the things Steve had told to me, I would've done more than just punched him. Steve laughs almost as if he was agreeing with me "Yeah...I was an asshole" I roll my eyes, was? Steve Harrington was still an asshole. "still" I say correcting him. Now it's his turn to ask "What?" I roll my eyes yet again as I say, "You're still an asshole", he frowns as he nods slowly "Yeah...I guess" At least he could admit it.
-
Once the game ended, I bid Steve a quiet goodbye and went to the parking lot. I wait by Shawn's car for about 10 minutes until I see Shawn walking towards it, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and hair damp. Steve walked next to him, both chatting about who knows what. Shawn drops his bag onto the hood of his car before scooping me up into a kiss.
Returning his kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I try to enjoy the kiss, but unfortunately, I can't because I can practically feel Steve's glare. I pull away, eyes meeting with Steve's. His brows are knitted together in an angry, or jealous type of furrow, and his arms are crossed over his chest. "You did so good out there," I say, pretending like I wasn't zoning out every 10 seconds. "mhm" Shawn hums before pressing his lips back against mine.
Steve clears his throat, making Shawn and I pull apart yet again. "well I'm gonna go. "See ya later, dude... um, nice talking to you again, y/n," Steve says before he starts walking towards his BMW, that was parked a few cars down.
The drive to Shawn's house is short and quiet. The only noise present is the low hum of the radio, and our breathing. When we get into his room, his hands are almost immediately all over my body. His lips touch mine, and his hands slide up and down the sides of my body before deciding to rest comfortably against my hips. The room is already somehow hot, and we're both out of breath when the sound of the phone (which sat on his nightstand) begins to ring.
BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG.
The sound of the phones rings is shrill and cuts through the quiet house like a knife. Shawn groans before pulling away from me. He crawls up his bed before answering the phone. Leaning against the headboard, he says, "Hello?"" in a very annoyed tone. "Oh, hey dude...no you weren't interrupting anything." the last bit drips in sarcasm as he says it.
"Yeah...yeah she's here, what'dya need?" I know he's talking about me because no one else is here, but I don't have a clue about who he's talking to. His brows furrow in confusion as the muffled sound of the other person talking comes out of the receiver. Then he scoffs as he shakes his head. "No, I'm not gonna do that sorry Steve." Steve? Why would Steve be asking about me? "Dude, you can't just ask me to do that" Shawn's eyes flick over to me before he whispers "I've gotta go alright? yeah, yeah, see you later." Shawn says before hanging up the phone.
"What was that about?" I ask. He hums quietly before hesitantly saying "Um...he just wanted to ask me if he could copy my homework" My brows furrow. There's no way Shawn would have made a big deal out of copying homework. They always copied each other work, so there was no way that's what Steve had asked. There was no world in which Shawn would have answered like that to needing to copy his homework.
As I press my hands into the soft cushion of Shawn's mattress, I sigh and whisper, "I should go... my dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out I stayed out late." Shawn nods before asking "Need a ride?" I nod, pushing myself up off the mattress and to my feet. "Yeah, but drop me off a few miles out. Don't need my dad knowing you're there."
A few years back, after my father's divorce was settled, and I was adjusted in school, my father sold our old family house. Claiming there were too many bad memories there, then he promptly moved us out to a cabin in the woods, much to 12-year-old Me's dismay. The cabin had supposedly been my grandfather's. his father, aka my grandfather, skipped out on the 'wondrous' opportunity to live in the shithole, so it had been abandoned for years since my great-grandfather died. It's a shitty log cabin, two beds and one bath that sat in the middle of the woods.
I hate being at that place alone. The doors creek, and the trees around it whistle with every gust of wind. I swear I'm going to be murdered one day in it and it'll be all Dad's fault for moving us out there. I didn't know why he couldn't have just moved us into some moderately shitty apartment or even keep us at the old house.
-
Shawn's car slowly drives down a dirt road in the middle of the woods. His high beams shining ahead of us to make sure there wasn't some animal (or person) in our way. About halfway towards my house, Shawn stops the car. From there, it would be about a 10-minute walk up to the house. "I can walk you up there if you want me to," he says, his voice quiet as if he thought my father would somehow hear him all the way out here. "No, I'm fine...but thanks anyway. See you on Monday," I say as I push open the car door. I sling my bag over my shoulder as I begin the walk towards my house. Shawn waits until I'm out of sight from his car to turn around and it's the 5-minute drive back to the main road.
I arrive at my bedroom window. I don't even notice my dad stood leaned up against the door frame until I'm fully inside my room. I'm left staring at my father, who has his arms crossed over his chest, angrily glaring at me. "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU?" my mouth gaped open as I began to say something but decided it was better not to. "GO ON TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU WHERE" I let out a groan as I matched my father cross my arms over my chest "I was at the football game," I say with an eye-roll as I toss my backpack on my bed.
He scoffs "THE FOOTBALL GAME ENDED AT 8:30 SO TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU'VE BEEN FOR THE LAST 2 HOURS!" his voice echoes through my room as I begin to talk, "God you're being so dramatic. A few friends and I went to Shawn's to celebrate after the game." his face is red, and his fists clench and unclench before he begins to shout again. "YEAH, WE'LL SINCE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO FUCKING PICK UP A PHONE AND TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE I DON'T WANT YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS!" my eyes widen as I shout "What! that's not fair! I'm babysitting this weekend!"
"well, you're going to call whoever you're babysitting for this weekend and tell them that you can't make it anymore, and I don't want you using this phone this weekend either," he says as he goes to unplug the phone from the wall. I let out a loud dramatic "ugh!" which is then followed by me shouting "I hate you!"
As he walks out of the room he says, "Yeah well I fucking hate you too" I dramatically sit down on my bed before shouting again "You're such a fucking asshole!" he turns brows furrowing as he says, "What did you just call me", I'm not scared of him, I never have. He thinks I am, but I never will. "I said you're a fucking asshole," I repeat as my arms cross over my chest. He scoffs as he says, "I'll show you how much of an asshole I can be" before slamming my bedroom door behind him.
I sit on my bed, arms crossed like a bratty toddler as tears pricked in my eyes. it wasn't fair. I've gotten home late a handful of times and he never gotten angry any of those times, why did he always pick and choose when he wanted to blow up? I wonder what it would be like right now if I was still in New York with my mother. would she be blowing up on me right now too? would she be cool about things like this? or was she strict? but I guess I'll never know because she gave up on me and our family.
I feel bad after fighting with him, I always feel bad. I know deep down he loves me; he just doesn't really know how to show it anymore. I crave that fatherly love that gets rationed out from time to time. I think that's why we fight so much; I crave the affection; he doesn't know how to show it. when he's not working, he sits on his chair, or in his bedroom practically in a catatonic state staring at the tv or a wall, we eat dinner in our separate rooms we don't talk unless we're screaming at each other, or I've got my head laid in his lap as I profusely apologize for what had happened. we're both traumatized i know that we both lost so much, but he should at least try. he knows I don't have any other parental figures in my life, and he still chooses to be distant and cold.
I sigh arms falling to my sides, pressing against my soft mattress. sometimes in the spur of the moment I wish he had died, and I know he thinks the same about me. I always feel bad afterwards though. even though I live with him, I don't know my father at all, he's a stranger to me. the only time we feel like father and daughter is when he's bossing me around. it's absolutely bazar that I feel the same way about my father that I do my absent mother. it's actually like they're both absent in their own ways, dad emotionally, and mom physically. he totally gave up after sara died, I mourn my father in the same way i mourn my dead sister. I just want the old him back, the dad who chased us around the park, and took us out for ice cream, the dad who never even thought to yell at me even if i had stollen a car.
I just want him back.
-
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Taken pt. 10
If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.
a/n: sorry for the hiatus. here’s this. it’s not proofed. yay!
warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.
You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
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“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.
“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.
—
Bucky comes to with a groan, sitting up from his position on the floor, a hand holding his head. He blinks a couple of times, scanning the room for any sign of you. You’re nowhere to be found. Shaking his head, he pulls himself off the ground, and starts heading to the meetup spot he and Steve had agreed on months ago in case Becca had to be taken somewhere safe.
As Bucky travels, he replays the conversation he’d had with you. Why the hell would you bring up a Greek myth? He struggles to make any sense of it, but then his brain picks out a particular part of your story:
“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t turn around, James.”
Your warning—“Don’t turn around, James”— was certainly a code. After all, if you had struck a deal with Frost, and if you were working with HYDRA, then you were probably being watched, listened to. You couldn’t speak freely. But why Orpheus and Eurydice? Why that story?
“Don’t turn around, James.”
Orpheus turned around… Why is that important?
“Don’t turn around, James.”
“This has to be a metaphor for us,” Bucky thinks. “Does she mean I’m Orpheus, then? Eurydice was trapped in the Underworld… Y/N is trapped by HYDRA… Does she mean to stop looking for her? Or does she mean to trust she has a plan? That she knows what she’s doing?”
Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid he would tell all the secrets of the Underworld.
Then, it clicked. Bucky isn’t sure exactly what it is that changed how he interpreted your story, but, suddenly, everything made sense:
1. Chance one to save Y/N: Russia. I didn’t save her. I only saved Becca. She is saying I don’t get another chance to try for her.
2. Y/N is picking off people Frost is afraid will come between him and HYDRA. Right now, I’m not apart of that list. Proof: She let me go. If I attempt a second rescue, she will have no choice; they will tell her to take me out. Besides that, they will certainly threaten Becca, and we agreed when she was born that Becca always comes first.
3. The muses kept his head? They won’t kill me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they will just capture me. She won’t give me up, but she’s more likely to slip up if it comes to me. A slip up is more likely to lead to… They’ll wipe me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they’ll wipe me if they capture me.
Bucky sighs as he arrives at the rendezvous he and Steve had agreed on. He feels a little better now that he understands more of what you were saying, but he still feels like there is a piece of the puzzle missing.
—
The team goes into hiding. You had revealed a lot about the dangers of HYRDA’s plans, but they still know so little. The team knew you had targets—important targets—that you were being forced to eliminate. They discerned the targets were people HYDRA feel are threats against their mission, but they still don’t have a definite list.
“We’re sitting ducks!” Tony shouts angrily into the room.
“Stark,” Fury says gravely, “watch it.”
“I’m sorry, but we are. We have no new intel. HYDRA is AWOL. The world is looking at us to do something, and we’ve got nothing.”
“Buck,” Steve says, “did Y/N say anything else that might give us a clue as to who she’s after?”
Bucky sighs, thinking back over the whole interaction from the moment you got there to the moment you knocked him out. It was as he replayed your conversation on the roof that it clicked: the missing puzzle piece. Bucky meets Steve’s eyes.
“She told me who she’s after.”
“Well?” Tony questions impatiently. “Who?”
“When I met her on the roof,” Bucky says, “Y/N told me she was marking 3 names off her list. That means her next three targets were in the Compound.”
“FRIDAY,” Tony says, “get me a list of every person who was in the Compound at the time of the break in.” FRIDAY responds in the affirmative.
“Then,” Bucky continues, “she asked me…” Bucky trails off as he tries to remember how exactly you worded the question. “She asked me: ‘You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?’
“I thought it was weird how she worded that. I’ve known Steve longer than anyone, and it was weird she called him ‘Captain America.’ But that was her clue. HYDRA has no problem with Steve Rogers—”
“But Captain America has been ruining their plans since the ‘40s,” Steve says, arms crossed as he puts together what Bucky is saying. Bucky nods.
“So the other two targets have to have been in the Compound at the time of the attack, and they have to be people that have significantly messed with HYDRA somehow,” Sam thinks aloud.
Bucky thought. Who else could HYDRA consider a threat to their cause? Who else has been foiling HYDRA’s plans time after time? Bucky scanned the room, eyes carefully considering each person. It could be any of the Avengers, he thought, but then you would likely have more than 3 targets. His eyes settle on Fury. Bingo.
“Fury’s a target.”
All eyes are on Bucky.
“How you figure?” Someone asks. Bucky doesn’t clock who, his mind still attempting to fit puzzle pieces together.
“Captain America is an obvious choice. It can’t be another Avenger because you’ve done equal damage to their cause. It’s not me because they don’t want me dead—I’m valuable to them. But Fury? Fury created the Avengers. Fury is the leader. He’s also the director of SHIELD: HYDRA’s number 1 obstacle. It makes sense.”
Fury hums in agreement. “Rogers and I make the most sense. We still have a third target to identify, though.”
Bucky nods in acknowledgment, but his eyes settle on Coulson beside Fury.
“Coulson.”
Coulson’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he never would have expected he could be so important to Bucky. He swallows and composes himself, and when he speaks, he is calm, confident.
“I do make sense. My team and I have given HYDRA a real headache, and, like Fury, I’m the leader.”
—
With a list of targets that the team was agreed upon and confident in, it was time for a plan. They’d been idle too long. The plan is simply to get you back first, stop HYDRA second, but the way Bucky see is it, you are crucial to Frost’s plan. If they get you, Frost will be scrambling.
“Okay, team,” Steve says into a huddle. “Stick to the plan. The tip we sent out says I’ll be on a solo recon mission, so they’ll be waiting. Y/N will be waiting.
The goal is to get Y/N and bring her home.”
“And we’re sure she’s not just going to kill you?” Sam asks, facetiously. Bucky scowls.
“We have to hope that she really is just playing HYDRA’s game to stay alive,” Steve says solemnly.
—
“Any sign of her?” Natasha asks into the coms.
“No,” Clint says.
“Redwing and I got nothing,” Sam says.
The coms go silent as the team waits. Steve carefully walks through the hallways of the abandoned HYDRA facility. He’s careful—he half expects you to step out of nowhere and shoot at him.
He turns the corner into what appears to be the facility’s security room. Computer monitors line the walls, each showing different hallways or facility entrances. The room is bland and dark except for the monitors and the light emitting from them.
Steve’s eyes take in the security footage, the room, and the woman sitting in a large desk chair in front of the monitors, legs propped up on the desk the security equipment rests on.
“Y/N?” Steve asks.
“You found her?” Bucky asks quickly, heartbeat picking up. He had been ordered to stay behind in the quinnjet, but if Steve found you, he’s leaving.
“Hi, Cap,” you say pleasantly. “Been a while.”
“You tried to kill me a week ago.”
You frown. “You still mad about that?”
Steve scoffs. “Y/N, what’s going on?”
“What’s going on, Captain America,” a third voice chimes in, “is the fall of the Avengers, of SHIELD, and the rise of HYDRA.”
“Frost,” Steve says, presuming he’s meeting the “mastermind” behind the whole endeavor.
“Captain Rogers,” Frost says with an over animated grin. “A pleasure!”
Steve turns back to you, ignoring Frost’s greeting. “You missed.”
“I won’t miss this time,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching.
“I don’t doubt it,” Steve replies. “I’ve never known you to miss. Best sniper on the team.”
“Steven,” you say, an edge to your voice that confuses Steve. He opens his mouth to answer, but the sound of a gun cocking beats him to it.
Behind Steve, and then behind Frost, stands Bucky; he has a gun to Frost’s head. It’s clear that Bucky had snuck up on him.
“Well! Isn’t it nice of you to join us, Sergeant Barnes,” Frost says. “I just love a little family reunion. Tell me, how is the Mini Asset? Hmm?”
Still holding the gun to Frost’s head with his right hand, Bucky’s left hand goes around Frost’s throat.
“Watch it.”
“Buck, we need him alive,” Steve warns. Bucky releases Frost’s neck. However, in the small amount of time that this interaction took place, Frost had, unbeknownst to the three of you, snuck something out of his pocket.
“Well, this has been fun. I’m sure we will meet again soon,” Frost’s tone is sardonic. “Just know, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, that you may have gotten your little bitch back today, but this is far from over. HYDRA will rise again. SHIELD will fall.”
Then, Frost throws what he had pulled from his pocket to the ground and smoke quickly billows up into the room, filling your lungs and making you cough. You hear footsteps—Frost running. He must have taken Bucky by surprise, too.
When the smoke clears, you face your husband and run into his arms for the first time since being kidnapped.
—
After being rescued from Frost, Bucky and the team take you back to the Avengers’ makeshift headquarters. They (with profuse apologies) blindfold you on the way so that you’re not able to leak any information if you have actually turned against them, or accidentally give something away if HYDRA is watching somehow.
“I’m sorry, Doll. Y’know I trust you with my life, but we gotta be sure,” Bucky says. You rest your hand on his and squeeze.
“It’s fine. I understand.”
Upon your arrival to the HQ, you’re taken to an interrogation room where Fury and Coulson ask you about the kidnap, the torture, the deal you struck, HYDRA’s plans, and everything else up to your rescue. They hook you up to a lie detector machine, even, and ask you if you are working with HYDRA, if you had gone dirty.
“I promise I only did what I had to survive and to keep my daughter alive. I had to do what HYDRA asked. They’re everywhere. They’re within SHIELD, even. I didn’t know who could hurt her,” you swore.
When Fury and Coulson are finally finished interrogating you, they tell you they think you have a chance of being acquitted. You were a prisoner of war, and, surely, the U.S. government would see that. However, until then, you were in SHIELD’s custody and to be locked up. You agree without protest.
As you’re walking out of the interrogation room, hands cuffed in front of you, you see Bucky holding a sleeping Becca in his arms waiting for you. Your eyes widen.
“What is she doing here?” You panic.
Bucky frowns. “I thought you might want to see her. She misses you.”
“Bucky, if she sees me right now, what will she think? I’m handcuffed. The last time she…” You trail off. “I don’t want to see her. Just… put her to bed. Give her a kiss for me. Tell her I love her. Don’t bring her by my cell.”
Bucky says nothing as a couple SHIELD agents lead you away.
—
It takes 2 months for you to be acquitted. You stay locked up in a SHIELD cell, refusing to see your daughter, barely speaking to anyone for 2 months. When you are finally acquitted, it is because a private grand jury hears your testimony, Becca’s testimony, the Avengers’, security and personnel from the White House there the night you assassinated the president, and the families of the deceased. The ordeal is heart wrenching. You are sentenced to a year of probation (including not going on missions as an Avenger) and weekly court mandates therapy, but you are free.
When the judge tells you, “Mrs. Y/N L/N-Barnes, you’re a free woman,” you let out a sob and feel yourself yanked into a firm chest that you’d recognize anywhere: Bucky.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re coming home.”
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@just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansource @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#marvel x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky
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gang as after school snacks🫵🫶
i main oreos and milk ANYDAY OF THE WEEK🧍♀️👹❤️
ponyboy:
prob apples or sum shit😭
like something kinda random but also reasonable
ngl apples and peanut butter HIT sometimes
so he’s real for that
6/10 also gives pudding cup guy
johnny:
either doesn’t have anything as an after school snack
#neglected
in all seriousness i feel so incredibly bad for johnny and his home life
OR he makes like a whole meal
no in between
like he’ll come home and just put together a whole sandwich, juice, apple, the whole thing
5/10 i’m sorry😭
sodapop:
just has a can of coke or smth
this is not a joke on his name but it does go very well with it
but i think he just THRIVES off caffeinated sodas
comes home and cracks open a dr pepper, pepsi, whatever
thats enough to fuel him thru the rest of the day
also when he’s had a bad day he’ll just sit in his and pony’s room in the dark and sip his soda ominously LMAOOO
8/10 my mom does this
darry:
yoghurt and granola typa guy
probably calls granola “cereal”
ily darry but this is unacceptable 🫶🥰
he def pressures pony and soda to have healthy snacks which pony listens to but soda…well we know what soda does💀
everyone makes fun of him for his taste but he gets so pressed so fast (trust me he’s mad at me already for writing this)
3/10🏃♀️💨
dally:
religiously has bowls of cereal
or just cigarettes yk
just sits in the dark and eats his lucky charms whilst contemplating everything annoying he !everyone else! did that day
thinks about how much homework he has and how hes not gonna do a lick of it
calls up friends asking them to share their answers to the spanish hw
and on the other side of the line they can just hear him munching away and just like “…what are you eating🧍♀️”
dal’s just like “the bones of your dead dreams now tell me what the fuck a conjugation is and how i do it”
9/10 y’all prob know im an intense cereal lover
two-bit:
gushers or fruit snacks typa thing
prob drinks kool-aid like it’s the water of life
he’s real for that to a degree
like sometimes too many ritz crackers is too much 😭
probably just eats packs after packs of fruit snacks
struggle meals all the way💀
8/10
steve:
just drinks a glass of milk or smth
straight from the carton
just a total scavenger of the pantry
so disrespectful💀
in general i think he steals all the gangs food as a joke
darry just bought some cookies from the grocery store and by the time he gets home from work they’re gone😭😭
4/10
ANYWAYS request hcs, imagines, anything! i do platonic and romantic y/ns too🫶
ILYSM‼️‼️
#the outsiders#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#johnny cade#darry curtis#the outsiders sodapop#steve randle#two bit mathews#matt dillon#sodapop curtis
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The Pocket MCU: Avengers 1/?
In Which Pocket Meets the Avengers for the First Time.
Word Count: 1.5k
Scene In-Movie @ 53:45
You offered Couslon a Sour Patch Kid as you walked toward the bridge with him and Tony. You could hear a group talking up ahead, mentioning something about iridium.
“It’s a stabilizing agent,” Tony said, immediately jumping into the conversation.
You continued your conversation with Couslon. “It’s really not a problem, Phil,” you told him. “Take the jet.”
“I’m just saying, pick a weekend,” Tony turned back to add. “I’ll fly you to Portland. Keep love alive.”
You nudged Coulson with your elbow, giving him a reassuring glance. “Think about it,” you offered as you followed Tony onto the bridge. Your eyes lit up when you saw Natasha Romanoff sitting at the table in front of you. “Natty!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to give the spy a hug. It had been ages since you’d last seen her.
“(Y/N)!” she exclaimed, returning your embrace. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but what are you doing here?”
You shrugged and rolled your eyes. “I go where he goes,” you said, gesturing toward Tony.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” a sandy haired man in a red, white, and blue getup behind Natasha asked. He turned to Coulson. “I thought this was a top-secret situation. Need-to-know, only, and you’re just letting civilians in here?” He gave you a once over, taking in your black leggings and your off-the-shoulder Disney World t-shirt you’d had to tie back with an old hair tie.
“Trust me,” you said, popping another Sour Patch Kid into your mouth as you sized up the man before you who could only be Captain America, himself– Steve Rogers– “you’re gonna be real glad this one’s got his own handler.” You jerked your head in Tony’s direction.
“Hurtful,” Tony called out as he moved toward a row of computers on the bridge. “The iridium means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD.” He passed a big, beautifully beefy long-haired blond man that looked like he came straight from a viking saga and patted him on the arm. “No hard feelings, Point Break,” he added, “you got a mean swing.”
“Dr. (Y/L/N).” Bruce Banner stepped forward and reached for your hand. Your eyes widened in surprise at being recognized by someone as prestigious as the Bruce Banner as you wiped the sugar on your fingers off on your leggings. “I read your dissertation on examining the ethical considerations and societal implications of developing and deploying advanced technology for global live-saving purposes. Brilliant work.”
“Oh, shit,” you said, blushing as you reached out to shake his hand. “Dr. Banner, thank you. It’s an honor.” Sometimes, you forgot that you, too, had finally managed to snag your PhD. And to be reminded by someone like Bruce Banner was… well, it was fucking flattering.
“This little one is a doctor?” boomed the tall, viking-like god of a man. “She is so small, I feel I could place her in my pocket and abscond away with her home to Asgard before any of you would even notice she was gone!”
“Who is he and can we please let him do that?” you whispered to Nat, who managed to conceal her laugh behind a cough.
“(Y/N), this is Thor. Thor, this is (Y/N). You already know Dr. Banner, and this is Steve Rogers and Maria Hill,” Nat made swift work of the introductions. “(Y/N) is Stark’s–”
“Ward,” Tony interrupted. “She’s my ward. I’m her guardian. It’s very touching, very heartwarming.”
“Chief Technical Officer of Stark Industries,” you amended, shooting him a glare. “Legal adult, thank you very much.”
“Listen, Doctor Pocket,” Tony began, but you interrupted him.
“If this Loki guy gets a hold of iridium,” you began, talking over Tony, “he’ll be able to keep his portal open as wide and stay open as long as he wants.”
“Uh, raise the mizzenmast,” Tony commanded, raising an arm over the bridge. “Jib the topsails.” Everyone on the bridge gave him a confused look. “That man is playing Galaga!” He pointed to a crew member of the helicarrier who was, in fact, playing Galaga. “He thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did.” You rolled your eyes and sighed. Tony needed to be the center of attention at all times, otherwise, he tended to… act out.
Tony proceeded to look around the bridge controls and Tony covered one of his eyes. “How does Fury even see these?”
“He turns,” the woman Nat had introduced as Maria Hill deadpanned.
“Sounds exhausting,” Tony said, running his hands over one of the screens. “The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily.”
You put a hand on Nat’s shoulder at the mention of Clint’s name and squeezed gently. You knew how much he meant to her, how devastated she’d been when she’d learned he’d been compromised.
“So, the only major component he still needs is a power source of high-energy density,” you added.
“Something to kick-start the Cube,” Tony agreed.
“When did you two become experts in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Hill asked, arms folded across her chest.
“Last night,” Tony replied. At Hill’s disbelieving look, you added:
“The packet. Selvig’s notes. The extraction theory papers.”
“Did no one else do the reading?” Tony asked, exasperated.
“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Captain Rogers asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.
Dr. Banner paced in the background, thinking. “He’d have to head the Cube to 120-million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.”
“Unless,” Tony added, “Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.”
Banner opened his arms. “Well, if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.”
“Finally,” Tony said, holding a hand out to Banner. “Someone who speaks English.”
“Hurtful,” you shot back, but Tony just stuck his tongue out at you.
“Is that what just happened?” Captain Rogers asked as Tony and Banner shook hands behind him.
“It’s good to meet you, Dr. Banner,” Tony said. “Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalleled. And I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage-monster.”
“Do you want me to book the honeymoon suite for you now, Boss?” you asked with a sardonic grin, “or do you want to wait until the two of you have found a place to register, first?”
“Jealousy is an ugly look on you, Kiddo,” Tony said with a grin. “Daddy can have more than one genius friend.”
You pulled a disgusted face. “I swear to god, if you ever refer to yourself as ‘Daddy’ in my presence again, I will rip that arc reactor from your chest and shove it so far up your ass that you choke on it.”
Tony looked contemplative. “Yeah, yup– I hear it now. Horrible choice of words, totally my fault. My apologies. Never again.”
“Wait,” said Captain Rogers, clearly confused. “I don’t understand. Are you her dad, or–”
“Absolutely not!” you and Tony both shouted at the same time.
“I was hoping you might join Dr. Banner in tracking the Cube,” said a voice from the entranceway to the bridge. You turned and saw Nick Fury enter the room. “That’s Banner’s only purpose for being here.”
“Oh, hey, Nick!” you chirped. “Sour Patch Kid?” You held out your box to the SHIELD Director.
“You got any blue ones?” he asked, to your utmost delight, and you fished through the box to dig out two before placing them in his outstretched palm.
“They’re my favorites,” you told him, smiling. “You’re lucky I like you.” Fury winked at you– or, maybe he just blinked, you couldn’t tell with the eyepatch on– before bringing the candy to his mouth.
Captain Rogers narrowed his eyes at you. “Maybe we should start with that stick of his,” he said, eyeing you up closely. “It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nick said, trying not to pucker his face as his Sour Patch Kids proved sour, “but it is powered by the Cube. And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”
“Monkeys?” said the sexy viking-man–Thor, you reminded yourself– he had a name! “I do not understand.”
Captain Rogers excitedly pointed a finger. “I do!” he said, and Tony rolled his eyes behind him while you tried to stifle a giggle. “I-- I understood that reference,” Rogers nodded happily, looking to you, as if for approval. You just nodded at him.
“Good for you,” you said.
“Shall we play, doctors?” Tony asked.
“This way, sir, madam,” Banner said, indicating for you and Tony to follow him into the belly of the helicarrier, where no doubt his lab was waiting.
You turned back one last time as you followed the two men, wanting to wave a farewell to Nat before the ship swallowed you up. The second after you turned, you notice Captain Rogers turn quickly turn away from you, a blush coloring the side of his neck.
Huh, you thought as you turned back to follow Banner and Tony. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have sworn Captain America had just been checking out your ass.
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love the way we went from “headcannon that Klaus is German!” to “ohhh man he’s American that’s fine I guess :/“ then all the way back round to “NOPE HES AMISH EVEN BETTER”
#trust in Steve he knows what he’s doing#genuinely amazing#ik they’re birth parents countries of origin don’t have much bearing on their adult lives etc#but this is f ucking hilarious to me#tua#the umbrella academy#spoilers#klaus hargreeves
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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")
So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.
Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.
Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.
So, it’s an Eddie thing.
But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.
Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.
Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.
And this thing with Eddie… is not that.
So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.
(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)
And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve notices though. He always notices.
It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.
It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.
Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.
But he can’t fucking tell.
-
To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.
Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.
Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.
Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.
It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.
So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.
Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.
But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.
A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.
After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.
But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.
It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.
So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.
It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…
Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.
And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.
Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.
Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.
It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.
“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”
He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”
Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.
“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”
Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.
Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.
“Mm?”
“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.
But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.
Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.
“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—
Unless…?
“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!
“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.
“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.
“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.
Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.
Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.
Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.
“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.
“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”
There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.
“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.
“Do you want to try again?”
Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.
Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”
‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.
It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.
And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.
“Can I... have a hickie?”
now with a part three !
#at this point call this the 'can i' series#sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3#but don't think they will <3#tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved#ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE#trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao)#but <3 thank u all#gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do#ruby writes steddie#steve x eddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#touch-starved steve harrington#not rlly anymore hehe#does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE#yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time#nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur#ok ok i'll be quiet now
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“but steve wasn’t being weird with the kids why would billy even think he was”
cut to karen being all over a seventeen year old billy literally a few scenes before
#billy hargrove#tw karen wheeler#anyone would’ve had the right to assume steve was being fucking weird#just anyway because it is fucking weird if you don’t know the situation#but there’s also the aspect of billy knowing what people can do#and experiencing that first hand#billy isn’t naïve#and he clearly doesn’t trust people#like you want to tell me he had no reason to go off on steve#maybe just maybe if you read between the accidental lines they created#there’s a reason billy was so worked up#like#it was all set up in such a way that he would’ve been so riled up by that point#neil being neil#karen being the fucking worst#steve lying to his face#and they literally prove that people can be predators#so it’s a very valid concern#and yet billy gets blamed for it all#wild really when you think about it
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Rumors are saying Sam’s getting a version of the serum at some point in Cap 4, not sure how to feel ab that one 👀😬
#ofc they’re just rumors so nobody knows if this actually is gonna happen#but if it is true I’ve got mixed feelings#bc he very clearly says he has no intentions of getting the serum in TFATWS#and he’s always been confident in his abilities with out needing an extra boost so it’d be kinda crappy for them to undo that#but also it’s apparently comics accurate#and it’d be cool to see him as a double threat with flying & super strength#but again it just kinda undermines his previous characterizations and how hard he’s worked to be on par with super humans#idk girlies what do we think 😬#I wanna trust marvel and say that this rumor is not true#bc of the whole ‘you’re not Steve Roger’s’ ‘You’re right I’m not’#which goes so hard and clearly is meant to put Sam on his platform but also marvel is always inconsistent#sam wilson#captain america#captain america brave new world#captain america 4#cap 4
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everything i learn abt infinity war and engame makes me feel like i am actively hallucinating
#hi. i just spent an hour trying to understand steve's ending and i am laughing hysterically#HE WHAT. HE DID WHAT. HE WENT WHERE. WHAT#''maybe i should watch these to understand fatws/the next cap movie better''#no false wrong faux incorrect. i was right in abstaining im allergic to time travel and i hate it thank you#very funny very very funny. why'd they do any of it. fascinating#i watched th. the. th. old cap scene old elderly cap and i do not know how to process this. real media that's real and exists#ANYWAY friendship ended with mcu avengers now avengers assemble/fatws is my best friend#jesus#kayvswords#I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND I DONT UNDERSTAND THE DIRECTION. OF IT. THE DIRECTION THEY WENT IN#also imma need to look up some stucky enjoyer opinions on this because hi. joint hatecrime movie#they killed my boy they killed that ship in a back alley. bewildering#ALSO I W. I WENT TO WATCH EXPLANATION VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE ABT IT#just confusedly typing ''captain america old endgame ending. explanation'' in my searchbar with increasing desperation#and this dude says that due to something something time travel. something something branching alternate universes#that thanos. dies in 2014 and there's a BRANCH OF THE TIMELINE#WHERE NOTHING POST CACW HAPPENED??????#but we don't get to live there we have to live in the old steve dead tony dead nat universe. okay alright okay#anyway if i see endgame steve its on sight that mans an imposter and i dont trust him <3
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Omg I saw this TikTok and now I can't stop thinking about this but Steddie.
Just... Eddie waking up one day to find out all his clothes are gone and instead he's stuck with all these preppy rich clothes and his hair is fucking straight (which wtf where did his curls go they were natural wtf). One of the reasons he hasn't graduated at some point is because he refused to leave the trailer looking like that. What the fuck kind of living is that.
Meanwhile Steve is walking to school wearing tigh black ripped jeans and a Hellfire T-shirt (the only one that wasn't only black - he hopes his soulmates doesn't mind him cutting off the shelves) with the Dio denim jacket over and everyone is staring. Hard. And Steve is rocking that style, but is so easy for everyone to see that his soulmate is part of the freaks and they avoid him like the plague.
Depending on which period of high school this happens, imagine Steve Harrington going to the Hellfire table angry and demanding to know who's fault was for that. And by then I want to think there were more members, so it was hard to pin point who was and who wasn't at school (from an outsider's point of view- the Hellfire Club knew instantly that it was Eddie, he was the only member missing and he wouldn't be skipping school on a campaign's day). And it takes place before Nancy and the Upside Down, which makes him even angrier. He was finally going to ask her out and now he can't because his stupid soulmate is one of the freaks.
And he tells them that. He gets his frustrations out on the club and everyone in the cafeteria is watching. Gareth, new member and all, is ready to start a fight for his new friends, his new family's honor. There are some members killing Steve with their glare. Jeff, bless his soul, tries to both prevent a fight between them and show support to the club. It doesn't end into a fight, but Steve does trow his food in Gareth's head after the kid comments something about Steve's personality.
It doesn't last long, the swap. That doesn't stop Eddie from staying home for a few more days under the pretense of being sick, especially after finding out his soulmate was Steve Harrington.
Bonus : Steve getting through his character development and feeling bad for what he said/done to the Hellfire Club. Blaming his older self for fucking shits out and pushing his soulmate, the only person able to love Steve, away. Trying to find who could be, but there were so many members and many of them had graduated already and left Hawkins- and the ones left wouldn't stop looking at him like he killed one of them after leading a witch hunt on them.
#I didn't even touched the family angle. I bet his father lost his shit when he saw what Steve was wearing. Kinda influenced his opinion on#his soulmate too#Eddie wants to have nothing to do with Steve and it stays like that until the Upside Down. And even then he's reluctant to trust Steve#It isn't until Eddie is close to dying and Steve shows that he changed in the little time they spent together that he lets someone else#know about his soulmate. When he looks at Dustin and says 'Hey.. Tell Steve I'm sorry.. for not being the soulmate he wanted' because at#that point Eddie is no longer mad at Steve. Instead he's sad because he wasn't the soulmate Steve deserved#he was the freak. the one no one wanted. not even his soulmate#stranger things eddie#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things steve#stranger things steddie#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things soulmate au#soulmates#can you tell I wrote half of this forgot about it then added the rest just now so I coul post it? no you can't
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‘ please stay ’
(ao3)
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#I did this for a scene I didn't even publish yet#I am the worse#but it's on the way!!!#WHAT HE ACTUALLY MEANT#the words that died on his lips#they mean a lot to me#because they're not about attraction or feelings#they are about guilt#and not trusting your own mind#they share that guilt#steve knows it#he sees it#and eddie is afraid not that he won't be able to do what's needed#but of the mess in his mind#and steve has been nothing but grounding#GJSDFJGDF#I will publish the scene!!#but so much is happening right now
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i do honestly think that like. the reason steve's torture scene is so undercut is because it is a torture scene. like they didn't WANT it to be hit heavily they didn't want to have to cut between relatively normal for the show scenarios back to steve and robin locked in an unreachable facility getting beaten and drugged and about to get their fingernails ripped off with the knowledge that in the end unless they're saved they're going to die. Because that is deeply tragic. so they have to make the jokes and make it lighter than it seems not only because the plot needs it but like the AUDIENCE needs it and the CHARACTERS need it... like yes the show does not take so many character's real life suffering seriously because for some reason lasting effects and trauma only exist to be taken advantage of by the plot or if you're the billed star or something but steve also in canon is the one who didn't let himself BE A Guy Who Was Just Tortured. he was a guy who was just beat up a little. and like they're scared but they're not too scared because they have to have hope because they are two people who have never had to rely on hope before in order to survive...
but also!! tbh i can't. help but think how much of a critical hit gut wrench it would've been if they had decided to commit to the darker theme of it and how it juxtaposes against the whole Bright Neon Light Palm Fronds And 80s Pop and how 30 minutes later they're standing among a group of children and no one even realises anything is out of the ordinary i think it would've accessed an actual emotional impact and depth the duffers seem to stumble upon by accident and never of their own volition </3 to cut from the concurrently running scenes to an 18 year old boy we know is completely innocent and completely telling the truth that he was just in the wrong place and didn't realise how serious it all was who was getting tortured and it be something serious. and his 17 year old coworker who just had to listen to it all to the point where she thought they dragged his dead body in to lay next to her. and in a way it's somehow MORE tragic which was not their intention at all that it was so lightly handled even though we the audience know it's somethings deeply upsetting it all just gets washed away in the face of Life goes on even on tv... sigh.
#🍦#anyway#also unrelated i saw a post abt like someone commenting on the entire insane patriotism and the red scare stuff and maybeppl just commented#at the time THEY DID trust me.... it is one of the biggest criticisms of the show itself and a lot of people actually hated s3 bc of it 😭#well like. me too. not that i'd seen it at the time i just remember eveurhing being like . said#anyway the way this show handles trauma actually gives me a headache lol#bc it's purely on case by case and yeah i know they can't just handle everyone's particular traumas but ugh. well you know what im saying#i think if they acknowledged the things that happened to steve they would also have to acknowledge it was never intended to have gravity#it can't be abandonment if there was never intention it can't be something they missed bc they don't see the something#he will get beaten every single season (barring the first) with no repercussion bc his like#humanity is not a right he is just some guy. it would also lose all the comedy to it that was established for 4 seasons#like oh it's not funny anymore and he's not the fun guy anymore because it's sad and that's not FAIR i don't think#bc trauma doesn't change everything about you and shouldn't change people's perception of you that's . fucked#and i think it's wild a show that attempts multiple times to go OVER these traumas will only ever land it sloppily bc i don't believe#they're doing it well intentionedly LOL it's for plot which is well fine it's a narrative but it means when it#lacks it's upsetting instead of the writing just being bad too#anyway... tangent . that also applies to like nancy and jonathan and stuff too . lucas and erica in s5 i imagine as well#though i shouldn't predict failure bc that's not very nice. to the characters .I just hate those men so much tbh tbh#sts
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