#maybe steve will redeem himself????

[liyliths]

౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐔𝐁

summary: you're on a wild goose chase for some kids, including one with apparent superpowers, who could've guessed? steve is also realizing he has some shit he needs to fix, and his friends really suck. then, you wind up at hawkins middle school to make a fancy bath for a kid with telekinetic powers. here's to hoping she finds will and barb safe and sound!

Steve’s grip tightened around the Coke can, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. “I should’ve shoved that spray paint right down your throat.” Tommy’s jaw clenched at that, his expression hardening as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Carol scoffed, tossing her head in disbelief. “What the hell, Steve?”  Steve’s eyes flicked between the two of them, his patience rapidly wearing thin. “You know, neither of you ever gave a damn about Nancy. Not even Y/N. You didn’t like them, because they’re not miserable like the two of you.” His voice was sharp, filled with bitterness as Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance, acting as if Steve were the crazy one here.

pairings: steve harrington x reader

warnings: mentions of a fight, bruises and blood, steve's idiot friends, (again, i know, i'm tired of them too) and cursing

word count: 7k

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Joyce's vehicle glided down the streets of Hawkins, bathed in the late afternoon golden glow. Hopper sat behind the wheel, his eyes focused on the road, while the golden light filtered through the trees. The vibrant fall leaves swirled around as the vehicle moved, painting the forest in hues of orange and yellow.

Inside the car, the group sat in tense silence, the weight of their mission heavy in the air. Joyce sat with a furrowed brow in the passenger seat, her fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh. Hopper's gaze was fixed ahead, his expression determined as he guided the car towards the Wheeler's house in an attempt to find Mike and his friends—along with the girl who has ‘superpowers.’

The teenagers sat in the back—Y/N fidgeted with her hands nervously, her eyes gazing out the car’s window as the vehicle’s engine hummed. Her friends, Nancy and Jonathan, exchanged worried glances, their faces etched with concern.

“Do you really think Mike is home?” Hopper broke the tense silence, his voice low, glancing in the rearview mirror at Nancy.

“I—I don’t know.” Nancy’s words were barely a whisper, her uncertainty clear as she fidgeted with her hands.

Hopper’s expression hardened. “Well, wherever your brother and his friends are, that girl is with them. And she might be able to help us find Will and Barb.” He hesitated, his tone softening. “This is gonna be hard to hear, but that body they buried for Will—it was fake. He’s alive, somewhere out there, and we’re going to find him.”

Nancy’s breath hitched. Her wide eyes met Y/N and Jonathan’s, the teenagers struck by disbelief. They were right after all…

As they neared their destination, turning on Maple Street, Hopper slowed the vehicle to a stop a distance away from the Wheeler’s house, the engine humming softly as it idled. The group examined the state of the house—government vehicles swarmed the driveway and street, with agents walking in and out of the house.

Nancy’s panic rose instantly, her heart pounding as she took in the sight. “Oh my god…” she breathed, her hands trembling. Without thinking, she threw the door open and scrambled out, with Hopper following close behind. Jonathan and Y/N exchanged a worried look before following their lead.

Hopper pulled out a pair of binoculars, peering at the agents as they moved in and out of the house. “Hold on, kid,” he muttered, but Nancy’s desperation broke through.

“I have to go home,” Nancy’s voice cracked, her face tight with concern.

“No, you don’t.” Hopper simply stated, focused on the sight in his binoculars. 

“My mom and dad are in there!” Nancy’s voice shot up, frantic now, her eyes wide with fear. Her hands shook as she gestured toward her house, her breath quickening.

“They’ll be okay.” Hopper sighed, putting his binoculars down, only to be met with the sight of Nancy storming off toward her house, while Jonathan and Y/N glanced at each other, giving a small, unsure shrug. 

Hopper was on the girl in seconds, grabbing her arm. “Let go!” Nancy screamed, struggling against his grip as she tried to yank away, desperate to free herself.

“Hey, hey, hey! Listen to me—just listen to me.” Hopper held the girl’s shoulders, his eyes locking with her blue ones in an attempt to get through her. “The last thing in the world we need right now is them knowing you’re mixed up in all of this,” He explained, gesturing toward the government vehicles with his binoculars in hand.

“Mike is over there! My brother is in there!” Nancy shook her head, her breathing ragged.

“No, he’s not. They haven’t found him,” Hopper insisted, his voice firm. He pointed toward the helicopters hovering in the distance, blades slicing through the air, suggesting they were searching for something—someone.

“For Mike?!” Nancy’s voice screeched, her voice breaking in disbelief. The thought of those helicopters hunting her little brother… it wasn’t real.

Hopper drug the girl back into the vehicle with the others following, the car doors slamming shut. But the tension was thick, the air becoming hard to breathe. Nancy sat between Y/N and Jonathan, her breath coming in heavy as her friends looked at her with concern. “Look, you gotta trust me on this, alright?” Hopper turned in his seat, glancing at Nancy. Joyce followed suit, both of them looking back at the teenagers. “We need to find them before they do, any idea where Mike and his friends might go?”

Nancy clenched her fists in frustration, her face tight with anxiety. “No, I don’t know!” she snapped, her voice cracking as it rose, filling the cramped car. Y/N winced at the outburst, her shoulders tensing under the weight of Nancy’s panic.

“You need to think.” Hopper’s voice was frustrated, watching the girl shake her head in complete disbelief.

Nancy’s thoughts spiraled. How had she missed the signs? Her brother and his friends had been acting strange for a while now—secretive, whispering, slipping away—but she’d been too overwhelmed with everything else, too distracted to see what was right in front of her.

“I don’t know!” Nancy shook her head, throwing her hands up in defeat. “We haven’t talked much lately.” Her voice wavered, regret pooling in her chest as her eyes darted toward her house overflowing with government agents.

Joyce leaned forward, her voice softer but no less urgent, eyes scanning the teens. “Is there any place your parents don’t know about? Somewhere he might feel safe?”

Nancy hesitated, her mind racing, but nothing came to her. Before she could respond, Jonathan, who had been quietly lost in thought, suddenly spoke up.

“I might not know exactly where he is, but—I think I know how to ask him,” The boy said, his voice cutting through the tension as the others turned to him, their attention sharpening.

Hopper’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

Jonathan leaned forward slightly, glancing at his mom, Joyce. “Their walkie-talkies. Will has one somewhere at home.”

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭

The sky was slightly overcast, with the sun peeking out of the clouds. Steve Harrington sat on the back of his burgundy BMW parked in front of a quick-mart, his usual perfect hair tousled and wild. His face was still bloody from the fight with Jonathan, and dark purple bruises had already begun to form around the cuts. His jaw throbbed every time he moved it.

“You owe me a dollar-twenty,” Tommy Hagan called out, stepping up behind Steve and tossing a bottle of painkillers his way. Steve caught them as they flew through the air, and Tommy handed him a Coke to wash the pills down. 

“Don’t worry, man,” Tommy continued, his grin widening as he leaned back, smug, “he’s gonna need a lot more than aspirin when we’re done with him.” 

“Yeah, if the cops ever let him out, that is,” Carol chimed in, her voice dripping with cruelty. “They should just lock him up forever. I mean, did you see the look on his face? Total psycho,” She mimicked the look of Jonathan mid-fight, throwing mock punches at Tommy’s chest as he chuckled.

“He probably had that same look whenever he killed his brother, right?” Tommy added with a snicker, giving Steve a light tap on the arm. But Steve remained silent, his expression unreadable—pressing the cold Coke can to the side of his face in an attempt to numb the aching.

Carol, never one to let something go, let alone read the room—continued their tangent. “Oh god, I just got this image of him making that face while he and Nancy are screwing. I wonder if Y/N has ever joined their party—gross!” She grimaced as she said it, but Tommy burst into laughter.

“Carol, just shut your goddamn mouth for once in your life!” Steve’s voice suddenly cut through their mockery, both Tommy and Carol flinching at the unexpected outburst.

Tommy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at Steve, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Hey, what’s your problem man?” 

Steve pulled the Coke can away from his face, deadpanning Tommy and Carol’s shocked gaze. “You two are the problem. You’re both complete assholes.”

The brown-haired boy pushed himself off his car, turning toward the driver’s door as he shoved through his friends. “Are you serious right now?” Tommy shot back, still baffled.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” Steve spat, gripping the car door before pausing, meeting Tommy’s gaze. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?” Tommy’s voice oozed with fake innocence, as if he had no idea what he was talking about.

"You know what," Steve growled, stepping in closer to Tommy, his face tightening with anger.

Tommy’s smirk widened. “You mean calling Nancy out for what she really is? Oh-ho, that’s funny, ‘cause I don’t remember you asking me to stop.” 

Steve’s grip tightened around the Coke can, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. “I should’ve shoved that spray paint right down your throat.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched at that, his expression hardening as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Carol scoffed, tossing her head in disbelief. “What the hell, Steve?” 

Steve’s eyes flicked between the two of them, his patience rapidly wearing thin. “You know, neither of you ever gave a damn about Nancy. Not even Y/N. You didn’t like them, because they’re not miserable like the two of you.” His voice was sharp, filled with bitterness as Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance, acting as if Steve were the crazy one here.

“They actually care about people,” Steve added, before getting cut off by the red-haired girl.

“Oh, right. Nancy—the slut with a heart of gold!” Carol snapped back, the sound of her voice grating Steve’s nerves.

That was it.

“I told you to watch your goddamn mouth!” Steve shouted, pointing at Carol, his Coke can still gripped in his hand. The sudden outburst startled her, but before she could respond, Tommy shoved Steve hard against his car.

"Hey! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, man, but you don’t talk to her that way,” Tommy shot back, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. 

Steve had enough. He shoved Tommy back, his frustration reaching its breaking point. “Get out of my face,” he warned, stepping closer, eyes locked with Tommy’s brown ones in an attempt to push him back with sheer will.

But Tommy wasn’t backing down. In an instant, he grabbed Steve by the collar of his jacket, yanking him forward and slamming him against the car again. Steve’s hands instinctively flew up, gripping Tommy’s shoulders tightly.

"Or what? You gonna fight me now, too?" Tommy taunted, shaking Steve by the collar—threatening him, his voice thick with arrogance. "Because you couldn’t take Jonathan Byers, so I wouldn’t suggest that.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, his friend’s mocking words echoing through his mind. Tommy gave him one final shove, releasing his grip and stepping back. Steve exhaled sharply, and with one last look at the pair, he turned, angrily opening his car door.

“Let me help you with that door there, buddy,” Tommy sneered, shoving Steve into his seat, and slamming the door on him with a harsh thud. The engine ignited, and Steve wasted no time backing out—the tires screeching against the parking lot asphalt.

Tommy, not content to let it all go just yet, took off running toward the retreating car. “Run away! Just like you always do! That Nancy’s turning you into a little pussy!” His breath hitched as he shoved the back of the car with both hands, watching it lurch forward.

"That’s right! Run away, Stevie boy!” Tommy continued, his voice echoing down the street as the BMW skidded out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement.

“Now what?!” Carol scoffed, throwing her hands out in frustration, standing stranded in the parking lot beside Tommy.

Steve was pissed. 

His grip on the steering wheel began turning his knuckles white, barely paying attention to the road as his jaw clenched with frustration. The thought gnawed at his mind; what if he had tried to be good for Nancy? It was all wrong—all of it, and he finally realized. Y/N was right, he shouldn’t have been such a shitty person, and such a shitty boyfriend.

Y/N saw him. The real him. And the truth is—that scared the hell out of him.

He shouldn’t have let Tommy and Carol get to him, to let them spray paint those words on The Hawk about Nancy, and he shouldn’t have let his anger get the best of him. Hell, he couldn’t even blame Nancy for everything with Jonathan, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. But hey, maybe he deserved it—he hurt her too, he pushed her away like she was nothing.

He couldn’t change what he did, and he doubted he could fix it—but he knew he had to try and make it right for those he hurt. At the very least, he owed them that.

𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

As Joyce’s Ford screeched to a stop outside the Byers house, a cloud of dust billowed up around the group caught in the rush of their arrival. Hopper wasted no time killing the engine, opening the car door to rush inside the house with the others. The teens followed close behind, scrambling out of the backseats and racing up the creaky porch.

Joyce fumbled with the rusty doorknob as she unlocked it, her hands shaking as she finally pushed open the door, sending the group tumbling into the chaos of the Byers home, beginning their desperate search for Will’s walkie-talkie.

Y/N paused as she entered the home, her eyes wide as she took in the disaster before her. Furniture was torn up and overturned, with trash and discarded objects scattered across the wooden floor. The most abnormal part was the Christmas lights hanging overhead, with the alphabet painted onto the wall in the living room—almost like an organized mess.

“Woah,” Nancy muttered under her breath, her eyes glued to the lights as she took in the bizarre setup. Y/N scanned the room, trying to make sense of it all.

“What is all of this?” Y/N questioned, her voice a mixture of awe and confusion, staring at the chaos scattered across the room.

Jonathan, moving briskly down the hall, glanced back over his shoulder, his voice low and hurried. “My mom—she used the lights to talk to Will,”

Y/N and Nancy exchanged questioning looks, with the sound of more clutter echoing throughout the house—until Joyce’s voice broke through.

“I got it!” She shouted, and a small sense of relief coursed over the group. They gathered in what was left in the mess of the Byers living room, attempting to communicate with the younger kids through the walkie-talkie.

“This is an emergency, Mike, do you copy?” Nancy kept repeating, her voice echoing through the room only to be met with silence—the only sound on the other side being static. The quiet felt deafening—like a ticking reminder that they were running out of time. “We need you to answer. We need to know that you’re there, Mike!” Nancy’s voice rose in frustration, until Hopper suddenly stepped forward, pulling the walkie-talkie out of the girl’s grip. She and Y/N exchanged an unsure glance, while Joyce stood by the couch folding her arms tightly, with Jonathan leaning against the wall behind them in anticipation.

“Listen, kid, this is the chief—if you’re there, pick up. We know you’re in trouble, and we know about the girl.” Hopper’s voice commanded, the only response being radio silence as everyone sat quietly, hoping for something—anything on the other side of the radio.

Hopper’s brow furrowed as he pushed on, “We can help you, but you’ve got to pick up. Are you there, do you copy? Over!” He spoke sternly, to no avail. Nothing—again. He sighed, setting the walkie-talkie down in defeat. The man looked toward the rest of the group, rubbing the bridge of his nose, attempting to ground himself.

“Any other ideas?”

As the group exchanged unsure glances, trying to come up with something—a voice arose from the other side of the device, catching their attention. “Yes, I copy. It’s Mike, I’m here… We’re here.” 

In a flash, Hopper picked the walkie-talkie back up, a rush of relief running through everyone. “Where are you?” He asked urgently, to be met with a quick response. “The junkyard, we’re piled up in the abandoned bus,” the boy spoke from the other side.

“I’ll meet you there, kid.” Hopper then set the walkie-talkie back down, hurriedly walking toward the front door as he put his jacket back on. “I’ll go and get them, you all stay here,” The chief commanded, throwing his coat on before being stopped by Y/N—who rushed out of her seat on the couch, grabbing his arm.

“I’ll go with you.” She looked up to Hopper, her eyebrows knit together with determination.

Hopper barely glanced at her, shaking his head as he pulled open the door. “No, if it’s a setup, I need you safe. No questions,” He commanded as he walked out of the door, quickly shutting it behind him before anyone could protest.

“Great,” Y/N muttered, turning on her heel to look at the rest of the group. “Now what?”

Jonathan shrugged, leaning against the living room wall with his arms folded. “I guess we wait.”

Hours had passed, and as the night fell a heavy silence settled over the Byers house, broken only by the occasional creak of floorboards and the distant hoot of an owl outside. The tension was thick in the air as the rest of the group waited anxiously for any sign of Hopper and the kids’ return. 

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of a lamplight while Joyce paced back and forth, her hands wringing together nervously. She couldn’t stop glancing out the window, searching the darkness for the one thing that could put her mind at ease. Every second felt like an eternity.

Y/N sat beside Nancy, her foot bouncing on the floor anxiously as she stared ahead. The weight of the unknown pressed down on her shoulders. Was Hopper okay? Were the kids safe? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers, and all she could do was wait.

Suddenly—the sound of a car engine broke through the silence, growing louder and louder until it filled the room with a low rumble. Heads snapped toward the window as headlights pierced through the darkness. Joyce rushed to the window, her breath catching in her throat, fingers trembling as they gripped the sill. 

“Is that them?” Y/N’s voice broke the heavy silence in the room. “I hope so, sweetie.” Joyce barely whispered, her gaze still locked on the approaching car, biting her nails in nervous anticipation.

The vehicle pulled up to the house with a screech of tires, its headlights illuminating the front porch in a harsh glare. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the group held their breath—until Joyce rushed to the front door and opened it, the teens following close behind her.

The headlights turned off and Y/N recognized the vehicle—it was Hopper’s. The chief’s figure exited the driver’s seat, watching as the kids he rescued from the junkyard scrambled over each other out of the back seats.

“Oh my god, Mike?!” Nancy’s voice broke, cracking with relief as she sprinted toward her brother, pulling him into a fierce embrace. “I was so worried about you!” The girl pulled back, gripping her brother’s shoulders, scanning his face with relief.

“Yeah, uh… me too?” Mike spoke softly, taken back by his sister's concern. As Y/N watched the pair reunite, she caught sight of Dustin standing beside Lucas, his face lighting up with surprise when he spotted her.

“Y/N? You’re a part of this too?” The curly-haired boy questioned with wide eyes, disbelief coating his tone.

“Unfortunately,” Y/N gave a small shrug. “Guess we’re all in it now, huh?”

Truth is, she’d rather not be involved in any of it—but it was too late to back out now, for any of them. As Dustin nodded, Y/N’s eyes fell on an unfamiliar face. A girl, small and fragile-looking, stood quietly by the truck. Her head was shaved, and her expression guarded, wearing a pink dress that was covered in grime and dirt. 

Then it clicked.

It was the girl from the articles. They really did find her. Nancy’s gaze followed Y/N’s, her brows knitting in confusion. “Is that my dress?” She asked, gesturing at the dirt-covered pink dress the girl was wearing. 

Mike looked behind himself at the girl, then shot his sister an apologetic smile. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

Everyone had settled inside and sat in the living room. Mike knelt in front of the coffee table, drawing on a piece of paper, sketching out his explanation of what he’d discovered with his friends. The lamp shined with a yellow hue as Y/N sat on the couch next to Nancy, with Hopper standing beside them, his arms crossed.

“Okay—so, in this example, we’re the acrobat,” Mike began, his finger tracing his attempt at a straight line that held the acrobat upright. The others leaned in, listening intently despite their skepticism. His explanation felt as fragile as the world they were beginning to realize they knew nothing about.

“Will and Barbra, and that monster—the Demogorgan—they’re the flea,” he continued, pointing toward the drawing of a flea on the other side of the line underneath the stick figure as the group paid close attention.

“And this is the upside down, where Will is hiding.” He gestured at the space below the line where the flea was placed. The teens exchanged uncertain glances, trying to make sense of it all. 

“Mr. Clarke said the only way to get there is through a rip of time and space,” Mike set the drawing down, looking back up at the rest of the group. 

“A gate,” Dustin chimed in, while Y/N furrowed her brows in thought.

“That we tracked to Hawkins’ lab,” Lucas added, drawing the others' attention. “With our compasses,” Dustin finished his sentence, eager to connect the dots—observing the confused expressions on the others, trying to figure out how to make this all make sense.

With a deep breath, the curly-haired boy continued. “Okay, so, the gate has a really strong electromagnetic field—and that can change the direction of a compass's needle.” He clarified.

Hopper, standing rigidly at the edge of the group, finally spoke. “Is this gate underground?” He questioned, his hand wiping his mustache in thought.

“Yes,” Came the soft reply, catching everyone’s attention as it came out of the mysterious girl’s mouth who had said just about nothing all evening.

“Near a large water tank?” Hopper asked again, his expression darkening as the girl confirmed his suspicions with a silent nod.

“How… how do you know all that?” Dustin glanced at Hopper, the man avoiding eye contact at the question, his lips pressed into a firm line.

“He’s seen it…” Mike thought out loud. “Holy shit!” Dustin shouted, his hands holding the top of his head in disbelief, earning a glare from Hopper—but the dots connected in Y/N’s mind. All the times Hopper had been late and came up with his lame excuses… he’d been investigating Hawkins lab for this girl? That man was absolutely terrible at keeping a secret.

“Is there any way that you could—you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this…” Joyce asked, slightly stuttering through her nerves, and the girl with the shaved head finished her sentence—her voice barely above a whisper.

“The upside down.”

“Down… yeah,” Joyce whispered, her eyes trailing off in thought.

“And our friend Barbra…” Nancy spoke up after some hesitation, her gaze landing on Y/N next to her, then to the small girl. “Can you find her too?”

The tension in the room weighed heavily upon the group’s shoulders as they surrounded the kitchen table. The girl with powers sat in the center, eyes closed—her face eerily calm as she concentrated. In front of her, the static from Will’s walkie-talkie crackled faintly, along with a sketch of Barb that Y/N had drawn. 

No one could fully understand what the girl was doing, but she’d explained enough—they knew she was trying to find Will and Barb, somewhere deep inside her mind.

The girl’s eyes twitched beneath her eyelids, rolling slightly as her focus deepened. As she concentrated—Y/N felt goosebumps forming on her arms, her hair standing straight in the air as if lightning was about to strike. She furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth open in silent shock until she noticed the lights above her flickering, the electricity in the house faltering as though the very energy was being altered.

There were so many unanswered questions, yet no one dared to speak.

Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity, the girl’s eyes flew open. Her face was pale, heavy with the weight of something unspoken. The electricity above steadied, humming back to life as the static from the walkie-talkie faded into silence once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, her expression guarded, almost hollow.

Y/N’s heart sank. The apology felt heavier than any answer could have been.

Joyce's voice trembled as she leaned across the table, her hands nervously gripping the edge. “What—what’s wrong? What did you see?” She stammered, her wide eyes darting between the girl and Hopper, who rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“I can’t find them,” the girl’s voice broke, barely audible as she stood, her face pale and exhausted. “I need to use the bathroom,” she glanced at Joyce, and the brunette nodded as she stood from her seat, quickly showing her the way to their restroom.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the girl, Mike broke the heavy silence. “It’s like… every time she uses her powers, she gets weaker,” he explained, his voice quieter than usual. He exchanged a worried look with Dustin, who added, “The more energy she uses, the more it drains her. Kind of like how a battery runs out.”

“Yeah, you should’ve seen her earlier,” Lucas chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief. “She literally flipped a van off the road with just her mind. It was insane.”

“But,” Mike sighed, slumping into his seat, “she’s totally wiped out now. Like, she can’t even think straight after something like that.”

Joyce re-entered the room, her voice shaky, eyes darting between everyone. “So… how do we help her? How do we make her better?” 

Mike shook his head, sighing with a shrug. “We don’t. We just have to wait and try again.”

Nancy, pacing beside Y/N, threw her hands up in frustration. “Wait? How long is that supposed to take?”

“I don’t know.” Her brother simply said, while Y/N noticed a figure emerging from the hall behind him. The girl stood there, her exhaustion weighing heavy in her eyes, yet her face set in a determined line.

“The bath,” she spoke, and everyone’s focus shifted toward her. 

Joyce shook her head, trying to understand what the girl was saying. “The bath?”

“I can find them… in the bath.” She clarified, while everyone exchanged confused glances, trying to piece together what the girl meant.

Suddenly, Dustin's eyes lit up, a lightbulb going off in his head. “Sensory deprivation!” He exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as if everything had just clicked into place. “That’s what she’s talking about.” He snapped his fingers and looked around, excited. 

“You’re a genius, Dustin!” Lucas beamed, high-fiving the curly-haired boy who grinned proudly, his gummy smile lighting up the entire room.

“Ms. Byers, can I use your phone?” Dustin asked, and without waiting for an answer, he headed straight for the home phone mounted on the wall, dialing frantically.

“What, why?” Joyce's voice cut through, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she stared at the boy.

“My science teacher, Mr. Clarke," Dustin explained, the excitement in his voice building. "He knows all this stuff. He’ll know how to make a sensory deprivation tank, like a bath.”

Everyone stood in silence as they watched the boy ring his teacher, the sound of crickets chirping outside filling the cool air, with the occasional floorboard creaking. Y/N looked toward the clock on the wall, reading 10:07 PM, wondering if the teacher would even pick up the phone this late.

Dustin stood by the phone, the rhythmic ringing seeming to stretch on forever. Just as the silence became unbearable, his voice suddenly pierced the air. “Mr. Clarke? It’s Dustin!”

The boy then begged his teacher to explain sensory deprivation, and on the other end of the line, there was a long pause—Mr. Clarke clearly processing this strange late-night request—but with some persistent pleading from Dustin, he eventually started listing the steps. Joyce quickly handed him a notepad, and Dustin jotted down the instructions, nodding eagerly as he listened. “Yep, uh-huh. We’ll be careful, I promise,” Dustin reassured his teacher, shooting a glance at the others crowded around him, supporting the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Thanks for helping with this curiosity voyage so late! See you Monday, Mr. Clarke."

As he hung up the phone on the wall, Dustin turned to the rest of the group, pencil still in hand. “Do you still have that kiddie pool we used for bobbing apples, Ms. Byers?” He asked, pointing the pencil at her.

Joyce blinked, trying to recall. “Uh… I think so?” She looked to Jonathan, who nodded to confirm.

“Good, then we just need salt. Lots of it.” Dustin declared, raising his brows, his voice taking on a serious tone.

“How much is lots?” Hopper asked, his arms folded over his chest, watching the boy as he re-examined the notes he’d just written on the notepad.

“Fifteen hundred pounds.” Dustin didn’t even flinch, but the room collectively froze.

“And where the hell are we supposed to find that much salt?” Y/N questioned, leaning against the kitchen table with her hands.

Hopper scratched his chin, thinking for a moment before speaking. “I might know a place.”

𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

The group arrived in the dead of night at Hawkins Middle School. Street lights dimly lit dark, empty roads, with moonlight reflecting off the pavement. Hopper recalled the middle school stores de-snowing salt in bulk, as well as the other supplies they needed. Everyone rushed out of their vehicles, splitting off into groups to grab supplies. Y/N, Dustin, and Lucas made their way inside the school to set up the kiddie pool, after Hopper broke the lock for them. The smell of old books and cleaning supplies lingered in the air, their quick footsteps echoing through the halls past rows of silent classrooms and bulletin boards filled with announcements and posters.

“Never thought I’d be trying to find my presumed-to-be-dead friend with Hawkins’ new girl, let alone a girl who can throw vans with her mind,” The curly-haired boy broke the silence as they walked, carrying the kiddie pool together, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“I'm not that new, jerk. I've been here for months,” Y/N shot back, sending the boy a sideways glance.

Dustin shrugged, not missing a beat. “In Hawkins terms, you're still new. We only get fresh faces once, maybe twice a year, tops. So yeah, you’re still in the 'new kid' category, sorry Y/N.”

The girl scoffed as Lucas shook his head, “Yeah, well the even weirder part here is the girl with telekinetic powers,” he chimed in, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the other two.

Dustin nodded, pretending to consider. “You’ve got a point. I guess you learn something new every day—like the fact that superpowers aren’t just comic book stuff.”

“Right,” Y/N muttered, half to herself. “Because everything else about this town is totally normal.”

The group found the gym, setting down the kiddie pool to open the doors. As they entered, the space was pitch dark—you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. Lucas ran his hand along the wall, finding a light switch and flipping it on as the gym became dimly lit by a light hanging in the center. Sponsor flags were hanging up, with the school’s theme colors painted on the walls.

“Alright, let's get this thing to the middle,” Y/N suggested, gesturing toward the kiddie pool. 

“Son of a bitch—why is this thing so heavy?” Dustin grumbled, his face scrunched with effort as they dragged the bulky pool, the plastic skidding as it slid across the slick floor.

“Because we’re doing this the hard way,” Y/N said dryly, helping the boys roll it into position. Once they reached the middle, they untied the rope holding the kiddie pool together and threw it aside. They began to pull it apart, but it quickly became clear they were in over their heads.

“Okay, um—it’s upside down,” Dustin muttered, fumbling uselessly with the sides.

“No, it’s not. Pull harder,” Lucas corrected the boy, earning an, “I am!” from Dustin, trying to make sense of the mess as Y/N tugged on one of the flaps, only to watch it flop back down, throwing her hands out in defeat. “How does this even work?”

“I don’t know—we need a strategy,” Lucas declared. “Let’s pull it back together… on three.” 

The group readied themselves, holding onto the edges. “One, two, three,” Lucas counted down, pulling it apart with everyone, but the walls of the kiddie pool stubbornly collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This damn thing has a mind of its own.”

Y/N huffed, shaking her head as she put her hands on her hips. “Okay, we seriously need a new plan.”

“Yeah, before we end up in a wrestling match with a kiddie pool,” Lucas chimed in with a playful grin, before Dustin slapped his shoulder. “Hey, man! What was that for?”

After a bit of waiting, Nancy and Mike arrived in the gymnasium pushing a wheelbarrow full of hoses, rushing to connect it to a water source in the janitor's closet. As they connected all the hoses, Mike drug the hose to the kiddie pool, helping the others hold it up. Water began to flood in the pool, while Lucas shouted at Nancy whether to turn the water hotter or cooler to get the temperature just right.

Hopper and Jonathan arrived with their supplies and worked together to pour all fifteen hundred pounds of salt into the pool. They passed the sacks of salt to each other and slit them open with a knife, watching the white crystals spill into the water.

The boys tested how much salt they needed to use by dropping an egg into the water. If it floated, everything was exactly as it needed to be: salt amount, water amount, water temperature, etc. The egg kept sinking, so they added more and more salt until the egg finally floated on the surface, the boys giving each other a big high-five in victory.

The girl with the shaved head finally arrived at the gym with Joyce, bringing the whole group back together as they gathered around the kiddie pool. Mike grabbed his walkie-talkie, turning up the static on an empty channel. Y/N watched as the girl began to take off her socks to enter the pool, with Joyce handing her blacked-out science goggles.

“What’s her name again?” Nancy whispered as Y/N stood beside her, glancing at her brother, Mike. 

“Eleven—or El, for short.”

The girl took a deep breath and stepped into the pool, making her way to the center after Joyce and Hopper helped her, supporting her with their hands. The group sat around the kiddie pool, watching the girl lay back—her pink dress becoming soaked, flowing in the water.

Not even a few seconds in, the electricity in the gymnasium surged—flickering on and off. The same feeling Y/N had felt at the Byers washed over her, goosebumps forming on her skin as her hair stood like there was electricity. Everyone exchanged stunned looks with each other, until suddenly—the gym blacked out, leaving the emergency lights on, dimly lighting the room.

“That’s not creepy at all…” Dustin whispered under his breath, before getting cut off by Eleven’s voice.

“Barbra?” The girl’s soft voice echoed through the gym, while Y/N and Nancy tentatively leaned in to hear what the girl was saying—their concern for their lost friend rising. The girl began breathing heavily, and abruptly—the lights began flickering erratically once again.

“What’s going on?” Nancy questioned as she looked around with wide eyes.

“I don’t know,” Mike answered, exchanging a worried glance with the girl.

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?” Nancy asked desperately, gripping the rim of the kiddie pool—her voice quivering. Her expression was etched with fear, searching for any sign of her friend’s fate. Eleven remained silent for a few moments, then suddenly began repeating a single, devastating word.

“Gone.”

The word grew louder with each repetition, echoing through the gymnasium, sending waves of dread that crashed over Y/N—especially Nancy. Her hand reached to cover her mouth, her eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief. Y/N placed a hand on Nancy’s shoulder, watching as tears began to form in her eyes.

Joyce placed a comforting hand on Eleven, her voice soothing as she tried to calm the girl. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joyce whispered. Eleven's breaths came fast and shallow, her small body trembling until she finally steadied herself. The gym lights flickered and went out again, the emergency lights casting a dim glow. “Castle Byers,” Eleven spoke through the oppressive silence, her voice clear and urgent. Joyce and Jonathan exchanged glances, hope sparking inside of them as they leaned in toward El.

“Will?” Eleven called out, her voice carrying through the stillness, earning a gasp from Joyce.

“You—you tell him I’m coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce stuttered, her hands trembling as she held Eleven’s shoulders, eyes wide with desperation. Everyone's attention suddenly snapped to the walkie-talkie as a boy's voice crackled through the static—breaking the silence with a single, urgent word.

“Hurry.” 

Everyone exchanged shocked glances, the gym filling with silence once again, until Eleven abruptly jerked up in the pool, water splashing—startling the group. She gasped, taking off the science goggles, and Joyce immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. 

“I’ve got you,” Joyce repeated. “It’s okay sweetie, you did so good,” She spoke reassuringly, stroking the girl’s head as she comforted her.

Y/N sat frozen for a moment, then made a sudden beeline for the gymnasium doors, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silent space. She burst into the dimly lit hallway, clutching her mouth, attempting to piece together what happened in her mind. She was grateful for the hope for Will, but all she could think about was Barbra.

Did she die as soon as she got sucked up in my dream? Was there a chance I could’ve saved her if we would’ve figured this all out sooner?

She paced the hall frantically before being startled by the sight of Hopper in her frenzy—stopping dead in her tracks, his presence a sudden, grounding force. “Come here, kid,” the man opened his arms, watching as tears welled up in the girl’s eyes. She ran and clashed into his embrace, almost knocking him back.

“What if—” Y/N’s voice began to tremble, pausing momentarily as she took a deep, shaky breath. “What if I could’ve saved her?” She said, closing her eyes tight, wishing it all away—only to be met with Barb’s frightened expression, clutching onto Hopper even tighter.

“Listen, there’s nothing you could’ve done, Y/N. There’s nothing we could’ve done, it wasn’t your fault.” Hopper sighed, his voice thick with empathy, rubbing the girl's back, watching as she pulled away from the hug—meeting her teary-eyed expression.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Hopper raised his eyebrows. “I’ve got to go meet Joyce in my car, alright? We’re going to save Will. You stay here with the kids, we will be back.” The man put his hands on the girl’s shoulders, watching her nod tentatively.

“Okay…” she managed to speak, watching Hopper’s hands leave her shoulders as he walked past her toward the exit, leaving the girl in the empty, silent hallway. 

“Be safe, okay?” Y/N called out to Hopper before he left, watching him turn around to meet her gaze.

“Always, kid.”

As Hopper exited, Y/N was left alone in the middle school’s hallway, lost in thought. What now? She couldn’t just sit here and wait. Suddenly, the gym doors swung open, revealing the girl’s friends—Nancy and Jonathan.

“Y/N?” Nancy's voice called out, breaking through the stillness. Their worried gazes met Y/N’s, a moment of profound silence hanging in the air. The three stood there, united by their grief and determination. Nancy’s voice was low but resolute.

“Let’s kill that damn thing.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

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taglist: @anqelically @cupofjoekeery @steviespookie @hailqueenconquer @just-tiredman @x-theolivia @fuckshitslover @uselessnewt @kitdjarin1 @newyorkangelbaby

[steddieas-shegoes]

🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🪱

Steve who is forced into golf lessons at a young age because his dad expects him to play to impress business partners when he joins him at the firm.

Steve who is a naturally boisterous child, energetic, cheers when the ball goes in the hole even though you’re supposed to maintain composure and have minimal celebration.

His coach is endeared, but the moment his father sees it, he gets reprimanded and told to act “like an adult.”

Steve who is very good at golf, but hates it because he can’t enjoy it the way he wants to.

Steve who gets a scholarship to a university for golf, but ends up losing it because his grades aren’t the best.

Steve who gets disowned before he has a chance to redeem himself.

Steve who turns to being a caddy for money and ends up working a lot of special events, like fundraisers.

Which is when he meets Eddie Munson, the lead guitarist for the band that’s hired to do any special event at the club. He always wears the required uniform of black pants and a white button down, but he rolls the sleeves and shows off his tattoos, his hair is unruly, and he wears a smirk that Steve knows would irritate him on anyone else.

Eddie’s hot.

Steve’s a little bit of a slut.

They find a bathroom when everyone’s cleaning up.

It may be three in the afternoon, but there’s no proper time for a bathroom hookup.

It continues for months.

Neither of them ever talk about meeting up outside of this stolen time together in an empty bathroom at a country club filled with the worst types of people they could possibly have to be around.

Until Eddie makes the mistake of offering to drive Steve home. And Steve has to explain he’s currently living with his best friend and he doesn’t wanna risk her parents waking up from his loud van pulling in the driveway.

And then he makes the mistake of offering for Steve to stay the night with him in his new apartment.

“We can break in my bed,” he offers.

Steve’s mistake is that he agrees.

But is it a mistake if Steve starts to leave his clothes at Eddie’s? And starts staying every night with him, even when they aren’t planning on hooking up? And sometimes Eddie comes home from his regular day job as a mechanic to Steve cooking dinner for them? And Steve sometimes has nightmares that Eddie holds him through.

And sometimes they say they love each other.

Maybe more than sometimes.

[bromcommie]

tbh I still think Brock Rumlow was an interesting character and upon further examination way more unsettling a villain than most to me because like. Let’s be real, the second you lay eyes on Robert Redford as Pierce monologuing in his pristine suit and glass office high up in the sky he just screams Evil Politician! at you. You can see it coming a mile away. Meanwhile Rumlow is….Just Some Guy. On the surface, he’s just some side dude. He’s not enhanced, he’s not in some major position of power, he’s just someone who’s really good at what he does and seems dedicated enough to the work and functions well with his team. He respects Steve, might admire him even, but not so much that he gets starry eyed like everybody else. He’s lighthearted but focused, he’s no nonsense, he’s the everyman Steve can relate to way more than spooks like Natasha or Fury.

And okay, maybe what Rumlow does for a living is beat intimidate and kill people, but it’s not like that’s the primary objective, right, because SHIELD are the good guys and this is what Steve does now, too, anyway; except that Steve doesn’t really use any weapons other than the shield, he holds back, he doesn’t carry a gun anymore which is usually fine since he’s dangerous enough without it. But when that leaves him vulnerable, he’s covered: Rumlow’s got his six, and he does it well, and he earns some of his trust. This is familiar to Steve.

And maybe Rumlow’s a little too good, fine, maybe he shoots a guy in the head within the first fifteen minutes of the movie when he doesn’t necessarily have to and then cracks jokes immediately after but that’s alright too, because that guy had Steve at gunpoint and that guy was Bad whereas Rumlow is One of the Good Guys just doing his job, right. Rumlow’s joking around because he’s used to the violence, they’re all used to it, and this is just how it works. They’re just soldiers doing the grunt work and following orders, and this is familiar, too.

Except that they’re not soldiers and this isn’t a war, except that the work is for an intelligence agency whose job it is to hoard and steal information and monitor civilians and orchestrate and sabotage and meddle in internal and external state affairs. Except that the Good Guys, in reality, are extremely grey at best. Except that many of the Good Guys turn out to be Nazis on top of everything else, and it’s not that far of a stretch.

But when it’s all starting to unravel, you’re still thinking well maybe some of these guys didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t do it out of individual belief, and if faced with the right choice, they can be redeemed.

That is until you realize that Rumlow maybe didn’t respect Steve and what he did so much as what Steve could do if only Steve weren’t “weak” in other ways, if Steve had chosen the right side. That it not being personal is less a cop out and more a taunt the same way just following orders has always been, for Rumlow and many many men that came before him and will continue to come after. Until the vault when, by the most charitable of interpretations, Rumlow looks at the Winter Soldier letting himself be smacked around and crying and getting shocked like he’s maybe a little unnerved (if not just downright fascinated) by the whole thing, but not enough that it really changes anything for him, because the end justifies the means and it’s not really his problem, anyway.

Until Sam shows up and Rumlow looks at him like a bird of prey and says This is gonna hurt with a fucking smile on his face, and then you think: shit, man, obviously. How was it not clear from the start.

To me, what makes someone like Rumlow a good villain, even a side one, is not that he’s straight up Insane & Evil™️ or suffering from Tragic Backstory Syndrome or all hopped up on magic superstrength juice or whatever, but precisely the fact that he’s Just Some Guy with a cockroach survival mentality who operates well within the established system and just so happens to be really good at his job - a job that he might’ve even joined thinking it was for a good cause, or because he had something to prove, or simply because it gave him one hell of an excuse to be a bully. Because he either wholeheartedly believes in HYDRA or he just doesn’t give much of a shit either way so long as he gets his due in the end, and both are just as bad.

Because when you strip away all the grand scale superhero theatrics, you’ve seen this before. You’ve seen Rumlows in your school and in your neighborhood and in the military and the cop car patrolling your street. They’re the ones who sometimes say or do somewhat offputting shit but you figure it’s fine because they’re otherwise real nice or charismatic or normal looking, or maybe they work a job that’s framed as helpful or protective or inherently good despite the power dynamics at play, or they share your background and interests and you chat about the weather being crap this time of year.

And every time one of them turns out to be a violent, hateful piece of shit, you’re still somehow surprised then, too, when you really shouldn’t be.

[i-dont-wanna-be-me-anymore]

Friends | Five H. x male!reader | Part 1!

Five Hargreeves x male reader

SPOILER WARNING FOR SEASON 4 UNDER CUT!!!!!

Summary: Five, after gaining a job at the CIA, has found himself falling in love with his coworker, for whom which he both hates and admires. But after his brother gets kidnapped, Five has to resort to, for the first time in 50 years, trusting someone other than his family to help him. THIS IS KIND OF LONG SO BEAR WITH ME.

Warnings: fluff?, Cursing, mention of gun, frenemies SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 ‼️

A/n: I just really hated the whole relationship between Five and Lila, so I’m erasing it, erasing their 7 years together, and making an ACTUAL uninvolved and un-family love interest for Five. This is also based off of the fact that Steve Blackman said he wanted to give Five a love interest whether it be a guy or a girl. I AM NOW A HEAVY BISEXUAL FIVE BELIEVER.

Part 2

• • • • •

It’s been 5 years since Five and his family reset the universe and brought about this new timeline. 5 years of trying to make his life worth living and actually trying to enjoy the peacefulness of this new life. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Something that he needed in order to keep him stable or at least just keep him from losing it. Maybe that something was actually a someone….

He always hated the thought of being completely alone. Ever since the apocalypse, losing his family and people that he loved or cared about was his number one fear. He didn’t want to ever be alone again.

In his new job with the CIA, he’s been able to observe and oversee what things could attempt to hurt those people that he cares about. Helped him have control over his life for once.

The only downside of the job was having to deal with stubborn coworkers and the terrible work hours. However, there was one person in particular that he was thinking of.

Y/n. He was a royal pain in the ass to Five. He was a talkative person. Always wanting to know how Five’s day was, always asking about his cases. And when Five would interact with him, he would sometimes leave mid conversation just to piss him off.

He thrived off making him annoyed, like it was his reason for being there in the first place.

And although Five would never admit it, but Y/n did have some redeemable qualities.

He was intelligent. One of the most intelligent people Five knew, all things considered. In his eyes, he was smart and knowledgable when it came to his job, he took it seriously, but in other cases he would always act rather stupid.

Another thing, that Five again would never admit to others or himself, was that Y/n was undeniably hot. And Five was honestly somewhat attracted to him because of that.

Not attracted to him in the way where he wanted to be with him, no…

Never in the way where he wanted to have a life with him…

Get Past being coworkers and actually learn more about him…

Have longer conversation rather than the short and sweet ones that they already had…

No, not in those ways at all.

When it came to work, Five would always try to find a way to swerve around him, try not to get caught up in whatever stupid conversation he wanted to have with him. But when he did get caught up, there would be times where he would leave an implicit comment and then rush off, ending their conversation.

Despite interacting with him, Five preferred to work alone in the office. Allowed him to know everything that he needed to know without having to ask anyone, or communicate with anyone…unless it was his boss, Lance, whose office he was currently sitting in.

Lance sat in his chair, staring at the “teen” for a bit before speaking.

“How are you handling your job? You enjoying the experience?”

“Yes, sir, I’m very grateful for this job and I intend to do everything I can to be efficient and productive with it.” Five answered, his fingers pinching the skin of his fingers as he watches his every movement, not understanding why he was here in the first place.

“Mm, I like to hear that. You can send him in,” Lance says to his assistant, who quickly nods sending in the man himself, Y/n.

“You summoned me, boss?” He asked, glancing at Five for a quick second as his eyebrows twitch up at the sight of him.

“Yes, I did. Because I have taken it upon myself to assign you two as partners,” he points to both of them.

“What?” “Come again?” The pair say, both now standing as they look at each other.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think Five and I would make good partners-“

“That’s exactly the reason I’m doing it. Look,” Y/n and Five both sit back down.

“I know you two don’t like each other that much, maybe even at all, but I’ve seen you, Five, you don’t talk to anyone else in the office. And Y/n, you talk to everyone in this office-in this building really, and you rarely talk to him. I think with this opportunity, you two can actually get along and succeed in working with each other. And, maybe this will take your mind away from the Keeper case,” he says to Five, who leans back into his seat, a deep sigh emitting from him.

Y/n groans quietly, slumping into his chair. Five rolls his eyes at him, making Lance speak up again.

“I’ll make a deal with you two,” they perk up, “solve one case together and maybe I’ll reconsider allowing you two to work separately again, all right?” Y/n looks at Five, who does the same, and they both nod.

“Good, now leave,” the assistant opens the door for the two, allowing(forcing) them to leave.

Y/n sighs, “do you have any open and easy to solve cases?”

“Oh a shit ton, but I’m not gonna let you get in the way of my job,” Five spits, Y/n now looking at him with an unamused face.

“Well, that’s good, because I won’t let you get in the way of mine, either.” With that, the two walk out of the building, heading in separate directions from each other.

• • • • •

Weeks had gone by since then, and they still had not solved one case together. They attempted to lie and have one of them solve a case and the other also have credit, but that ended up backfiring because they didn’t get their processes of working on it completely in sync with one another. There were details either missing or added in each other their reports. Granted the case was solved, but not for their own benefit.

Y/n was starting to grow annoyed, wanting nothing more than to go back to how things were. Where Five was just a simple guy in the office that he would annoy just for the hell of it, and there wouldn’t be any consequences to their work ethic and values.

Later that night, however, Y/n got a call.

“What? What is it?” He answers, groggy from the fact that he just woke up.

“Hey, I need your help,” the person on the other line says, seeming like he struggled to get that out.

“Wha-Five?” He looks over at the clock on the wall, “why the hell are you calling me at 12 in the morning?”

“Just-I need you to help me, okay? My brother’s been kidnapped and…” he sighs, his siblings listening at him talk to the unknown person.

“It would be nice to have some backup,” Y/n grins, already getting up to get dressed.

“Aw, Five, I never knew you had it in you to actually ask for hel-“

“Are you going to or not?”

“Okay, okay, fine, yes, I’ll help, where do you want me to meet you?”

“I think it’ll just be easier if I-“

“YOU’RE NOT DRIVING WANDA!”

“-If we pick you up. Jesus, Diego,” Y/n pulled the phone away from his ear as he heard someone yell, he assumed it was one of the many siblings Five had told him about.

“Okay, I’ll meet you in..five minutes?”

“Make it three.” The phone goes silent as Y/n grabs his gun and his badge, making sure it was loaded before heading down the stairs to his apartment building.

The family picks him up, in what he learned to be Wanda, and they head to the laundry mat.

There, him and Five go in front of the group as they hold their guns and a flashlight in front of them, checking in every area to make sure that they are safe and not at risk of getting hurt.

When they see Viktor, he’s loosely tied to a chair and not even looking as if he’s in pain.

Five helps his brother as Y/n makes sure his gun is still up, making sure Five’s family and him are safe.

A man then appears from the back, shakily holding a gun as he asks for their help.

Y/n eventually drops his hands and puts away his gone when he realizes that the man was asking for help to find his daughter, Jennifer.

After some explaining, Five tells the man that he’ll get her back to him in at least 24 hours.

“Five, what the hell, why are we helping that guy, what if he’s lying? And what the fuck is the ‘Umbrella Academy’?” Y/n had a million thoughts racing through his head after that conversation.

They weren’t stopped, in fact they grew into ones of more confusion as Five responded to him, and his siblings confusion, by holding up a jar of glowing particles.

They all ended up in an asian restaurant, watching the man entertain them with knife tricks.

“So, what? You guys all used to have powers?” Five nods.

“And now you don’t because your dad, who’s an alien, reset the universe and made this timeline?”

“Look, I know it’s hard to understand, and I would prove it to you if I could, but-“

“Well, you can prove it to him, Five, with this!” Ben holds up the Marigold as Five quickly shuts him down.

They all argue and banter as they all, except Ben, agree to not regain their powers.

Ben then heads to the bathroom and Y/n drinks a shot of whatever liquor they had there.

“Look, maybe this can be the case that we solve together? And then you don’t have to see me working with you again, hm?” Five proposes, making Y/n tilt his head to the side, agreeing with him, for once.

Ben returns and they all have shots, including Y/n who was just about to leave.

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Y/n stands up and starts to leave.

Five looks at him and then back at his siblings.

“I’m gonna walk him out,” he follows Y/n, silently walking as they head outside.

“My apartment’s not too far from here, so you don’t have to drive me. But, I’ll, uh, follow up with you tomorrow I guess,” he chuckles, looking at Five for a second longer than he meant to.

“Yeah, I’ll…see you tomorrow,” they stare at each other, their bodies starting to take control as they go closer to one another with each moment of silence.

They step back once they hear the rest of Five’s siblings come outside.

“Uh-bye,” Five rushes off, hopping in the van as he silently curses at himself.

“What are you doing? You hate him…right?” Five thinks, staring at the back of his head.

He watches as the guy he’s started to hate walks away, unknowingly getting wrapped up in whatever crazy family shenanigans are about to happen.

• • • • •

A/n: I kinda fuck with where this is going, so if you guys liked this, let me know!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Me again- I'm literally writing this a few minutes after sending you an ask. Do I have a life? No. No I don't. Anyway.

I like to think that as a punishment for not keeping an eye on Eve and letting her be tricked by Lucifer and Lilith, Adam was made to have both parts down there (👀). Neither Lucifer or Lilith know this.

Maybe the angels made a new man that just does his own thing, but his sole purpose is to breed Adam. Maybe Steve? Adam hates it, but the Angels told him it's the only way to redeem his soul.

Just thinking about Lucifers reaction to seeing pregnant Adam, who's baby Abel. He was originally there for Eve, but there's a change of plans.

After Adam gives birth and it's time for Steve to come do his thing, Lucifer find the two men away from Adam and Eves home. Lucifer is shocked to see another man there, but he gets pissed when he sees him force Adam to the ground.

All he wants is a few months break, but Steve isn't having any of it.

I wonder what newly turned Devil Lucifer would do 👀

Steve is going down lmao Yeah he takes the breeding thing ten thousand times more seriously than Adam did.

Oh and what if Eve was still in the garden but cast to the side for what she did. (It will be her and Steve on earth)

And maybe Lilith isn't evil in this one. She did a bad thing but isn't evil?

-

Adam: Steve please, I literally just had Abel I need a break.......

The infant was in Adams arms, cooing and looking up at his mother unaware of the stress that was going on around him. Adam found himself missing Lucifer and even Lilith.....

They might have really hurt his feelings but they never would have forced something like this onto him.

Steve: Adam, we have been through this. We have to keep making babies and since we don't know how much time we have thanks to what you did we don't have the luxury of taking a break.

Adam winced and held his baby close, he didn't know any of this would happen.

Steve: So put the baby down, lay down and spread your legs. This will go easier if you just let it happen.

When Adam didn't move, Steve growled and ripped the baby from him and placed him on a nearby patch of flowers. He then forced Adam to the ground and got between his legs.

Steve was a big guy, the angels made him bigger than Adam with the purpose of making him submit to Steve. All it did was make him fear Steve.

Adam: No! Please stop! Stop!

One minute Steve was on top of him about to force himself inside and the next he was gone. Adam opened his eyes and gasped at what he saw.

Lucifer was standing there his wings spread out. They were no longer blue and white but red had taken the place of the blue. His eyes now red and yellow and were those horns? With fire between them?

Adam: L-Luci?

Lucifer softened when he turned to Adam: Hey Addie.

Adam: What..... W-what are you doing here?..... I thought.......

Even if Lucifer did originally come back for Eve, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't more interested in Adam. He didn't need to ever know the difference.

Lucifer went over and scooped up the baby gently and handed him back to Adam who clung onto his baby, checking him over.

Like a good mother.

Lucifer ignored the pulse in his pants. For now.

Lucifer: I was..... But I've come back and seeing...... Well, him, I want to take you away from here. Away from that guy.

Away from Steve? Adam wanted that more than anything.

He nodded and squeaked when Lucifer picked him up like he was nothing.

Luicfer grinned: Let's take you home.

[oceantornadoo]

ex and the city (simon riley x female reader)

inspired by s2 ep18 of sex and the city (currently on a binge). miranda and steve are the cutest (pls don't spoil)

ANGSTY

--

fuck, it was him.

simon stood at the other side of your door, glaring into your peephole. you stepped back quickly, hand covering your mouth in shock. after running away from him on the street the other day, you hadn't expected him to show up. maybe you could just not answer, pretend it never happened and- "can hear ya breathin', dove." shit.

you quickly unlocked the door, trying to compose yourself. "simon! hi!" shit you needed to calm down. that is not how an ex-fiancee would treat her almost-husband. "shitty thing you did, runnin' like a rabbit fr'm me." your eyebrows rose. he was going for it. "i didn't run!" he looked at you, dead-eyed. letting the silence hang over you like a dark cloud, the air growing tense in your apartment hallway behind him.

"you ran." you ran a hand down your face, the other tightening your grip on your door. "well, i wasn't expecting to see you and- i just-" your voice choked, an attempt at hiding back your tears. "hurt my feelin's, dove." simon kept his arms crossed, staring down at you. he never did talk about his feelings much, but seeing the woman who was supposed to be his wife, his forever, run away from him? that hurt even a dead man like him.

"well i don't do very well with ex-boyfriends and..." you trailed off, staring at your toes. the tears were hot behind your eyes now, months of frustration and longing boiling to the surface. "dove..." he reached out and tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. the feeling of his gloves against your skin was so familiar you almost closed your eyes, but snapped them open when you remembered. "this is me. simon." you nodded, throat thick. you shrugged, struggling to find the words to convey how you survived without him for the past four months. you decided on a simple, "yeah."

"i held your head while you wer' sleepin'." simon took off his mask, tucking it in his pocket. his hair was a bit longer since the last time you saw it. his face a bit scruffy, sporting a few new scars from the last deployment you had screamed at him for. your neighbor appeared behind him, tilting her head back as she pretended not to listen. you turned away, rubbing at your eyes as they got red. he took the silent invite and ran with it, stepping through and closing the door before your neighbor saw you vulnerable. always protecting you physically, even when he couldn't emotionally.

"im sorry. im so sorry it- i just-" you rubbed at your chest, an aching spot forming behind your rib cage. "shh dove, s'ok, yer ok." he reached for you and then stopped himself. he didn't get that privilege anymore. "i just hadn't seen you in so long and i thought you might have died and i missed you simon..." your voice cracked at his name, the taste of it so familiar. like a warm hot chocolate on a winter's day, a cool lemonade on a summer's night. "im a shitty person! you'd never do anything that shitty."

he chuckled. you, always idolizing him, making him out to be a golden boy when really he was rotting, a half-dead thing for you to play with. "showed up to yer apartment in the middle of the day an' called yer landlord to make sure you were in. what'dya call that?" a sob rose from your throat, the humor of what he said hitting you hard. "yeah that was pretty shitty." you nodded, rewarding him with a weak smile and a half-angry tone.

"i miss you. in my bones, si." his eyes were wet, crinkling in the leftover eye-black. "im here, dove. what'rya doin' friday?" you let out a sob again, covering your mouth. "i have a date." fuck, he'd kill him. he'd let johnny plant mines and put gaz on intelligence and ask price to redeem that one favor from a year ago. he'd make it look like an purposeful accident, a gas leak or a water heater explosion. something where even the man's family couldn't get any money. he ran his hands through his hair, a nervous tick he only showed in front of you.

"can't pretend to be happy for ya, dove. can't be a better man on this." and suddenly you were hugging him, hands reaching over his shoulders as you stood on familiar tiptoes. his hands automatically circled your waist, the feel of it engrained in his soul. something he could describe from memory. "lets just...stay here awhile. okay?" he nodded into your hair, breathing in that familiar scent. he had another chance at making you his wife and he wasn't going to lose it again.

--

i kinda want to write one of these for all of the 141?? we'll see.

[intothedysphoria]

Apparently Robin didn’t buy the cholera excuse. Something about “what are you, a fucking Victorian waif?”

Well, considering he was being forced back into the social group he’d had in high school, cholera wasn’t far off.

Carol and Tommy were ok. So was McKinney. And even Byers, from what Steve had heard of him, ignoring the whole dating his ex aspect of it. Munson, Holloway, Carver, nothing Steve couldn’t handle.

Hargrove was a different story, especially after the incident.

The incident Robin would never let him forget, despite his pleas to just fucking drop it, for his own sanity.

The night Steve had, after pretty spectacularly falling off the pool table, propositioned Hargrove for a threesome in a closet then had been looked at with such disdain he just left.

Steve wasn’t real excited to relive that joyous experience. Not when he hadn’t really done anything to redeem himself of that truly horrendous experience in the last five years.

Even just examining Billy’s social media, it was clear how inadequate Steve was. He’d qualified for the world championships for surfing, was funny and had actually retained the friends he’d had in high school. None of those things applied to Steve and the last video he’d uploaded to tiktok was his eating an entire bowl of trifle in under a minute.

When they made it to the quiet, indie cafe on the outskirts of town, Steve found that he’d been assigned a seat next to Hargrove. Clearly he was being punished for some unknown evil.

Steve had been in many awkward situations in his young life, over half in Synagogue because his Rabbi had a habit of wanting to “mix things up.” Nothing had quite come close to sitting next to Hargrove in excruciating silence, both sipping a coffee that had been ordered for, not by them.

Despite the fact that under normal circumstances Steve would rather die than have to look at Hargrove again, he looked so pained by the tension that Steve decided to save him.

“So, how’s Missy doing?”

Missy was Max’s golden lab. She was notably beloved across all overlapping friendship groups, but given that Billy was Max’s older brother, he’d have by far the most time with her.

Hargrove visibly deflated like a helium balloon after being asked a question and happily jumped into a monologue about Missy’s various exploits, primarily shoe related.

Mercifully the incident didn’t get brought up once.

Maybe it was because Robin thought being forced to sit next to Hargrove was pain enough, maybe it was because her friends had simply moved on with what they found funny but the last thing Steve was going to do was look this gift horse in the mouth.

Instead, he found himself becoming increasingly engaged in talking to Billy, who didn’t seem to mind being stuck with him that much. In fact, he was talking up a storm, telling Steve about his surfing career, his mental health after therapy, his favourite Instagram filters. It was a wide range of topics that seemed to truly broach who Billy the man was at twenty three.

Robin didn’t attempt to interject at all. She’d grouped the rest of the group all at one side of the table where they sat like a tableau, occasionally staring at Billy. Waiting for Steve to get punched for a second time, no doubt.

Billy flat out insisted in covering the bill by the time they’d finished and then hung around awkwardly after the rest of the group had started to filter out. Steve, not wanting anyone to be left alone, stuck around.

“Steve can we talk?”

Yes they could talk, despite Steve’s heart rate seemingly doubling from resting.

“About that night” Billy started and Steve prepared himself to run. Maybe to New Zealand. The weather was nice this time of year.

“I wasn’t actually pissed at you”

Now that was unexpected.

“I did really like you but I’m just awkward and my face doesn’t show when I’m happy all the time then you just ran away and I’m really just sorry that I scared you. And that I’m doing a shit job of explaining myself. “

All Steve could really say was “oh.”

He knew he was beaming from ear to ear but he didn’t care.

“Thank you for your apology. And uh, if it’s not obvious I like you back.”

They smiled at each other like dorks for a few seconds before Billy obviously regained his confidence, now smirking.

“So. Dinner?”

Even Steve could pick up those inferences.

They went to Billy’s together, squeezing each other’s hands and Steve let himself feel calm.

For @thissortofsorcery

[thesecretwriter]

more than just friends (part 3) - steve rogers

pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: Angst – this part has the least amount of angst from all previous parts, fluff – flasback of how reader and steve use to be, a touching moment between steve and reader, reader being in the med bay at the compound – nothing graphic described.

summary: Things with Steve are still tense, but with the sudden occurrence of you being injured, the tension has lessened. However, Steve is left with life decisions that determine how things pan out for him. You play a vital role for him and having you there is important, even if it doesn’t seem so.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: here’s part 3 – i thought this might be a good ending, but I wanna continue it to at least a part 5. reasons being so that you guys could have a chance in seeing steve redeem himself.

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Your eyes watched as he aimlessly walked around the venue. His eyes roamed around, looking from one couple to another. A tinge of sadness was hidden behind his piercing blue eyes. They eventually made their way to you. The edged of your lips automatically perking up. He immediately started making his way to you.

“I was looking for you,” he said leaning against the bars counter, where you had been seated.

“And now you’ve found me,” you reply happily, running on liquid courage.

Steve watched as you took another sip from your wine glass.

“How many of those have you had?” he asked with an amused smile.

“Not enough,” your chuckle and down the rest of it.

It had been a long day filled with the endless chaos of Tony and Pepper’s wedding. The day started at the crack of dawn and wouldn’t end until the light of the next day.

“It was a beautiful day, hmm?” he gazed at you and then back at the drink in his hand.

“Beautiful indeed,” you look to Tony and Pepper who were lovingly dancing together. You were happy to see Tony finally get the life he deserved, it’s something you wanted for all your friends.

It was no secret that you were a hopeless romantic. You wanted a happy ending one day. With a loving partner, potentially a family and a few pets to keep the happiness growing.

“You ever think about having a happily ever after?” you curiously ask.

The question surprised Steve, but he took time to process the question. He did want the cliché American happily ever after. His friends from the 40’s got their happy endings and now his modern-day friends were getting theirs.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind it. Coming home to a loving wife, maybe a kid or two if we wanted…” he trailed off and met your eyes as you nodded in understanding and continued to gaze at the dance floor.

“How about you? Is that something you want?” he wanted to know what your ideal life would be.

“Honestly… I just want to be loved. I want a life filled with all the predictable cliché stuff; you know? But I think I’d also like a nice quiet life, away from the harsh reality we fight against,”

Your eyes had yet to meet Steve’s – who was looking at you with an unknown emotion. However, a sense of longing was clearly present in them. For once, Steve found himself wanting to share a similar future to yours.

(flashback over)

It felt like an out of body experience as you recalled the memory. That was the beginning of whatever 'relationship' you and Steve shared, till the faithful night of his harsh words.

Your eyes were heavy, and you were struggling to open them. The prominent sounds of beeping could be heard. When you finally did manage to open your eyes, the striking glow of the sun blinding your gaze for a split second.

Someone had been holding your left hand, gripping it tightly, when you looked to see who it was – you were met with an increasing heartbeat that could be heard through the heart monitor. Steve sat hunched over as he slept while holding your hand. As you look around the room, you recognize it as the med bay at the compound. You try to recall the moments leading up to you being here and Steve’s voice echoes through your mind.

“Y/n, sweetheart. I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? I want your eyes on me,”

You tried to take your hand out of Steve’s hold to sit up properly and possibly reach over for a glass of water, but your sudden movement caused Steve to stir. His eyes fluttered open as he blinked away his sleep.

The first thing he noticed was the absence of your hand in his.

He looked to you and saw you staring back at him with wide eyes.

“Y/n? you’re awake!... I need to call Dr. Cho,” he went to press the button which would request assistance.

“N-no… not yet,” your words halted his movements. He was now closer to you and looked to you in worry.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, I just need a moment… what happened?” you reached over for the glass of water, but Steve had already gone ahead to give it to you. He placed it back on the side table once you were done and his hand automatically grasped yours again.

“The mission that you and Peter went on was compromised and you got shot. Dr. Cho said it wasn’t critical, but you were unconscious for more than 24 hours,” he explained and fiddled with your fingers, a habit he did to distract himself.

You nodded at his words and watched him carefully. His tone held fear, something you weren’t used to seeing Steve experience.

“Is Peter okay?” you asked recalling the look of sheer panic he had when you were shot.

“A bit shaken up, but he’s okay… he’s a good kid,” Steve commented with a small smile.

“Kid? You know him and I are the same age, right?” you chuckle.

“But he’s not you,”

A day had passed, and you were discharged to go back to your room but were told to use the next few weeks to recover. Peter had taken it upon himself to help you around the compound.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said as he sat on your bed where you were laying, staring at the ceiling.

“I wouldn’t be okay if it weren’t for you,” you moved your head in his direction and smiled appreciatively.

“Steve was the reason we were able to get back to the compound that quickly. Don’t tell him I said this, but the look in his eyes that day made him look like a mad man. He was frantic and wouldn’t leave your side,”

You looked back to the ceiling and began to wonder.

Steve obviously cared for you. He went out of his way to make sure you were okay, even before you got shot. During the ‘professional treatment’ phase, he had resumed back to how he was before your argument. That didn’t hinder your thoughts though, he would have to do more to earn your forgiveness.

Bored.

The perfect word to describe how you felt. It seemed like everyone was busy doing something.

You walked through the halls of the compound, aimlessly wondering and looking for something to do. Your recovery hindered your ability to kill time in the training facility, so you found yourself walking towards the same spot where you set up the picnic.

As you walked closer to the spot, you saw Steve sitting a few feet away on a bench. Feeling the familiar flutter of butterflies in your tummy, you made your way toward him.

“Hey,” you greeted, bringing him out of his daze. He looked in your direction and an automatic smile made its way to his lips.

“Hi,” he smiled and patted the seat next to him.

“What’re you doing out here?” you asked curiously.

“Just taking in some fresh air and thinking. How’s your wound? How’re you feeling?” he asked looking at the spot where you were shot.

“It’s okay, a slow recovery, but its okay,” you smile and assure him.

An awkward silence had surrounded the two of you. The scene before you was a sad contrast of how things once was.

“I uhm…”

“So-”

You both spoke at the same time and then chuckled.

“You go first,” he nodded.

“No, you. I miss hearing our voice,” the words slip passed your lips before you can stop them, but the smile on Steve’s lips quickly erases the feeling of regret.

“Okay… well uhm, I’ve decided to start... therapy,” he said looking at his hands. “I’ve been thinking about it and after speaking to Bucky about how it’s made things better for him… I realized how much of trauma I’ve retained from the war and the adjustment to living in a new age of time,”

You listened intently as he spoke, the vulnerability in Steve’s voice was heart aching.

“I think it’s a good idea,” your tone held encouragement and displayed the concern you felt for him.

“Yeah?... I think so too,” a small smile graced his lips.

You allowed yourself to get lost in thought for a moment. This was a big step for Steve – you knew it took a lot for him to admit that he needed therapy. In fact, it hadn’t crossed your mind before. Your line of work basically requires you to endure events and situations that could only be helped with therapy.

“I think it would be an even better idea if we spoke to Fury about establishing a psychologist or therapist to stay at the compound. For whoever may need it. We deal with a lot from being avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D agents,” you explain to him.

“I’ll set up a meeting with him about it,” Steve nodded and took your hands in his, moving closer to you.

“There’s something else I want to say to you…” he trailed off, his eyes were set on the ground before meeting yours.

“The words I said that night- Y/n. I didn’t mean any of them. My mind was clouded with anger, which shouldn’t have been directed towards you. And I’m not going to blame my issues or trauma on it, because it was uncalled for. I just want you to know that I didn’t mean it. You’re not a second option. You’ve been so good to me since we’ve met and I don’t want to throw that away because of my stupidity,”

Your hands remain in his as each word leaves his lips. You had already established that you knew his words weren’t true, and his apology was genuine. Which is why your next few words were chosen so carefully.

“For me to know you’re true about your words – we’re going to have to go very slow to become normal again. I’m still here for you, I always will be, but right now, you need yourself more than you need me,” you lean your forehead against his and close your eyes.

The intimate moment shared between you two solidified to Steve that there was no one else like you. No one who would say or do the things the way you do.

“I love you,” is all he whispers.

tagging those who reblogged/commented:

@paarthurnax59 @terry2227 @sweater-bee @niffala @superforgottensoul @haruvalentine4321 @steve-language-rogers @slxttyro @themrsrogers

[wildmrmix]

Shut up shut up shut up I’m actually thinking about the mlp au. This is not how i expected to spend my night, jesus 😭

Saying stuff below the cut cause I hate having super long texts on my blog if I can shorten them

So!! In G4 mlp, unicorns were the super pretty ones, with jewelry and honestly who didn’t grow up being told unicorns were beautiful. However!! In G5, it’s the pegasi that are seen as beautiful with their fluffy/ elegant wings. I want Soda to be the prettiest dude ever so I’m debating between the two. It would also likely decide which ones Darry and Ponyboy would be. I’m leaning towards pegasi honestly, cause: Darry could use his wings while working on roofs and Pb could use it for track. So Curtis bros are probably decided. Maybe Mrs. Curtis was an earth pony and she met Mr. Curtis when he moved down from Cloudstale (though it’ll depend on the generation this will be set in)

Dally changeling is so interesting to me I’m sorry. Like the concept of feeding off other peoples love and shapeshifting into anything is something i feel fits Dally??? Like, maybe New York was the hive, and he somehow escaped and is living off chaos. Literally. He picks up broads to feed off their love, then moves onto the next one. Idk if he’d get the redeem transformation. Maybe when he goes to help Pony and Johnny with the church fire? If i have that? Or maybe he’s able to find some kind of alternative so he’s not just starving all the time. Or maybe he’s a hippogriff that moved away from Mount Aris

I’m kinda 50/50 on my changeling Shepard siblings idea. I think they’d be good as ponies. Maybe unicorns and they use their magic to get away with stuff. Unicorns in G4 can only study one kind of magic relating to their cutie mark (unless their cutie mark is magic, ex: Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer), so maybe they learn their own stuff. Maybe they use unconventional spells or mix stuff together to get outcomes that appeal to them and nobody else

I think earth pony Two-Bit would be fun, y’know, give him the world bending powers of Pinkie Pie and set him free. Lotsa earth ponies seem to work on farms or food growing jobs, likely because of how close they are with nature in comparison to the other pony species, so they’re generally physically stronger. So maybe Two-Bit is a mix of the two, strong and silly. He loves to make people laugh and he’s able to deliver a mean kick

Earth pony Steve interests me as well. Maybe his dad’s a pegasus/ unicorn but his mother wasn’t and he was born an earth pony. Maybe his dad found it pathetic that his son was plain or something. Maybe Steve threw himself into anything he could to prove his dad wrong. Maybe he’s unnaturally good at stuff, cutie mark assistance or otherwise. He has magic flowing through him, but not enough to be recognized as a unicorn, more like extreme luck in things?

I think pegasus Johnny would be neat. He’d sleep on clouds to try and avoid his parents, and then maybe that’s how he met Ponyboy or Dally (as changelings can fly too). His parents still hate him, but he doesn’t feel like someone completely useless since pegasi have a lot of natural perks. Like sleeping on clouds, being able to create tornadoes with enough speed, the ability to make a sonic rainboom, etc. He has all this, yet he’s still a blank flank. It haunts him, the fact that he’s apparently good at nothing. That he somehow still hasn’t found his calling. It eats at him constantly, but he’s learnt to live with it. To walk with his wings covering his flank as a way to hide what isn’t there from the world. Maybe he ain’t too good at flying, maybe during the jumping that super traumatized him in the book, the socs messed up his wings, and now he can’t exactly fly right or for too long?

[liyliths]

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౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 a stranger things rewrite

pairings: steve harrington x reader

contains: fem!reader, minor enemies to lovers, slow burn, violence, cursing, mentions of death, blood, weapons, steve being an ass in season one but epically redeems himself, and any other warnings that may come with stranger things lol

moving into the small and quiet town of hawkins, indiana, was not the most ideal vision of how you thought your sophomore year would go. between being under chief hopper's wing, dodging steve harrington, and a kid going missing in a town where nothing happens, you find yourself being pulled into the unexplainable.

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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘: 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗘 you've just been dragged to the middle of nowhere, aka hawkins, indiana, with your pos father where the cicadas are loud and the neighbors are louder. after moving into your new trailer home that’s seen better days—probably in another lifetime, you somehow end up under chief hopper's care, hawkins' grumpiest cop. oh, and did i mention you found a creepy portal in the woods? how much weirder can this town get?

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢: 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢 your first few weeks in your new town, hawkins, are honestly anything but normal. you quickly find yourself caught between making new friends and keeping your distance, all while dodging the king of douchebags, steve harrington, and his clumsy attempts to get to know you, all on your first day. and, with a cherry on top, a strange figure in the woods makes you question if hawkins has a wildlife problem—or something much stranger. spoiler alert: it's not just deer.

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘: 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗩𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗬𝗘𝗥𝗦 turns out nancy wheeler and her family aren't all that bad, but middle school boy humor is the worst. ignoring your gut for once? classic mistake—now a kid's missing, and the guilt trip's free of charge! what's even cooler is that steve harrington won't get off your ass, and loves to make fun of people with missing siblings with his lovely friends. oh, and now barb's missing. hawkins couldn't get any better!

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥: 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗬 will byers was announced deceased, and now your friend barb is officially missing. steve is a grade a asshole and breaks jonathan byers camera, tearing up his photography. the figure you saw in the woods and in your nightmares ends up in one of the photographs jonathan took, leaving suspicion that will is alive, and barb is in danger. maybe hawkins is cursed!

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘: 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗟𝗘𝗔 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗔𝗧 barbra is still nowhere to be found, and you and your friends think you can do something about it. steve attempts to apologize to you, but you spare him no time to talk. hopper is really bad at keeping secrets, and will's funeral was dreadful. you and your friends search for the monster, and there's some weird tension between nancy and jonathan. then nancy decides to disappear while monster hunting! how fun!

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗫: 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 you thought you almost lost nancy, and you've supposedly figured out what's causing your nightmares. also, hopper is apparently interested in conspiracies about children with telekinesis, wonder where that one will go! while you're shopping for supplies to go monster hunting with nancy and jon, you run into the one and only: steve harrington, who sucks at relationships, and you can guess how that one ends. hopper finally finds out you've been tracking down a monster, and you've concluded everyone is terrible at keeping secrets!

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡: 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗧𝗨𝗕 you're on a wild goose chase for some kids, including one with apparent superpowers, who could've guessed? steve is also realizing he has some shit he needs to fix, and his friends really suck. then, you wind up at hawkins middle school to make a fancy bath for a kid with telekinetic powers. here's to hoping she finds will and barb safe and sound!

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧: 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗨𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 you wind up a monster hunter, also third wheeling nancy and jonathan until steve harrington of all people shows up, surprise! between genuinely thinking you're going to die, fighting a monster, and trying to get will back, you're still wondering how you ended up in hawkins of all places. and, what's better, going back to living with your pos dad or fighting interdimensional monsters? you also find out steve harrington isn't as bad as you thought he was, yay!

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season one's playlist worlds apart navigation

[will80sbyers]

just to be clear, even if I don't want him to win in the protagonists poll, I love Steve. I will always love Steve Harrington and personally I don't find him boring at all, I'm glad he choose to "crawl forward" as he says, and that he was capable of admitting he was wrong in s1 and redeem himself from his actions and every day keeps on that path and keeps supporting his friends with all his heart and tries to keep them all safe as much as he can. I think he's a great example for people irl that want to be better that you CAN do that, you can decide to change and maybe you will lose popularity but you will gain real genuine connections with people and maybe even your platonic soulmate ❤️

[buckybarneswannabe]

Continuation of my past post please read that first!!! They finally kiss yayaya! Also this is my first (published) fanfic so I would love some feedback if you guys have any ideas for the next part let me know!)

Starting from when I left off

——————————

Steve is still dazed from the alcohol and the blood loss when someone knocks in the door, no bangs on the door with fevor.

“ Steve what the fuck wrong with you open this damn door. You can’t just leave me like that”

Funny steve thinks, it took Bucky over an hour to notice that he was gone. Still he gets up.

His head spins a bit from the whiskey, but he gets up and stumbles to the door, opening it with a scowl on his face.

“What the hell do you want?”

He looks up to see Bucky standing in the doorway, looking upset and still drunk from his own excessive drinking. they stare at each other for a moment, the tension in the air thick and charged.

“what is wrong with you Steve you just up and left with out telling anybody! what is your problem you don’t just get to leave without telling me.”

Steve rolls his eyes, annoyance clear in his expression. he's not in the mood to deal with Bucky right now, not after everything that's happened.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the fact that I'm sick of seeing you make out with some random girl you just met!”

Bucky looks at him with a bewildered expression, his alcohol-addled brain trying to process what Steve just said. he's clearly not expecting this to be why he's upset, though he quickly composes himself.

“What the hell are you talking about? So what if I was with a girl?”

Steve lets out a frustrated growl, his anger rising again.

“You're kidding me, right? You seriously have no idea why I'm pissed off?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, clearly getting irritated himself.

“No, I don't. What's your problem with me having fun with a girl?“.

Steve sucks in a sharp breath to keep him self from screaming.

“Come on buck, you leave me alone ever single time we go out you don’t seem to care that nobody-nobody not one fucking girl ever has wanted to dance with me, kiss me or anything. You don’t even have an actual personality you have no redeeming qualities it’s just cause your hot that you get dozens of dames screw you”

Steve doesn’t know where the last part came from but he’s too upset to care.

Bucky looks taken aback, his drunken mind trying to process the venom in Steve's voice.

“What the hell is your problem all of a sudden? This has never bothered you before, why is it suddenly such a big deal now?” Bucky mumbles over his words like it doesn’t matter.

“You dumbass, it bothers me every time and I try to tell you but you are too busy just making out with the dame of the hour to notice. Or even let me talk to you,-cause you have a tongue to far down your throat to pay attention” Steve says with venom in is throat.

Bucky glares at him, his own drunken anger starting to shine in his eyes.

“Well maybe if you weren't such a damn introvert and actually tried to talk to girls, you wouldn't be so damn jealous all the time.” Bucky says coldly.

“It’s not cause I’m shy and you fucking know that” Steve mutters knowing Bucky knows better than anyone it’s cause of the ways Steve looks.

bucky scoffs, his arms still crossed over his chest.

“Oh, really?” Bucky says “Then what is it, huh? Why is it that every time I'm with a girl, you get all pissy and moody?”

Steve raises his eyebrows

“No stop that’s not fair. You know i get angry every single time because i try to talk to you and you have a girl on your arm and like her too much to to care about me, so be quiet. And-and-I have to just watch you because no girl wants to talk to a 5’2 boy who’s skinny like a 14 year old girl and doesn’t have the charm or anything that girls like. I mean you don’t know what it’s like I don’t have anything and you are fucking beautiful and you can buy them drinks, I mean my entire family is dead and my best friend hates me so yeah I’m moody” Steve finishes with a break in his voice.

Bucky stands there, completely taken aback by the anger and hurt in Steve's voice. He knew Steve was lonely, knew that he struggled with talking to girls, but hearing him say it out loud makes his chest ache.

“Jesus Christ, Steve...” Bucky whispers stepping further from Steve.

“Yeah” Steve says breaking eye contact and biting the inside of his cheek, he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth but he knows he never would have been able to tell Bucky if not now.

Bucky runs a hand over his face, feeling guilty and frustrated at the same time.

“I-I didn't know it bothered you that much.”

Steve sucks in a breath and scoffs trying to quell the burning sensation in his eyes

“Yeah cause you don’t care enough” Steve mutters looking at the floor.

That statement makes Bucky bristle, his jaw clenching as he tries to keep his own anger in check.

“Don't you dare say I don't care enough. Don't you dare.” Bucky says with a waver in his angry tone.

Steve almost smirks from some sort of angered feeling in his chest.

“don’t lie to me buck.”

Bucky steps closer to Steve, his voice low and firm.

“I'm not lying. Why the hell you think I always come back to you, huh? Even when I'm with a different dame every night, why do you think I always come home to *you*?”

*he takes another step closer, his eyes locked onto Steve's.*

“Yeah, maybe I'm good at charming the girls, maybe I have no problem getting them to fall all over me, but none of that matters.”

He pauses, his voice barely above a whisper.

“When I walk out that damn door, I'm not thinking about those girls. I'm thinking about you.”

Steve breathes hard and tries and fails to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks.

“Fuck you” Steve mutters. “You don’t care about me buck. At least not like before”

Bucky stops, he reaches out and grabs Steve's face, his grip firm but gentle as he forces him to look at him

“That's bullshit, and you know it. I care about you more than anything. I care about you more than I care about anyone else. Maybe I don't show it in the best way, but dammit Steve, you know I care.”

Steve can feel his anger and frustration melting away as Bucky touches him, his heart fluttering at the tender gesture. He can see the raw emotion in Bucky's eyes, the love and concern written all over his face.

Steve finally says “You're a jerk, you know that?”

Bucky chuckles softly, rubbing his thumbs on Steve’s face.

“Don’t touch me like that, don’t give me false hope” Steve says.

His grip on Steve's face tightens slightly, his eyes studying every inch of him. He's frustrated and hurt, his heart clenching in his chest as he hears Steve's weary words.

“How do you know it's false?” Bucky says

He pulls him closer, his hands moving down to grip onto Steve's hips, keeping him close. His voice is a hoarse whisper as he says Steve's name.

Steve, just hear me out, please.

He lets out a small growl of frustration, his fingers tightening on Steve’s hips. He wants so badly to shake him, to make him understand, to make him believe.

“Then you’re a goddamn moron because I look at you every day like I can’t breathe without you.”

Bucky shakes his head, his voice taking on a desperate tone.

“You think I would do all of this, spend every goddamn day with you, if I didn't love you? Why would I do that if you didn't mean anything to me?”

“Stop” Steve says sharply “don’t act like you love me”

Bucky takes a deep breath, trying to articulate his thoughts without making things worse.

“You're the most important person in my life, Steve.” Bucky starts “Best friend, best pal, all that stuff. But you're also so much more than that. I care about you more than I care about anyone else. Not a single damn dame I've ever been with has meant as much to me as you do.”

Steve doesn’t know who moves in first, But neither of them cares, as they collide together in a bruising kiss. Bucky wraps his arms tightly around Steve, pulling him flush against his body. His hands grip onto the fabric of Steve's shirt, holding him so close that it's like he's trying to fuse them together.

———————

Mwhahahahahahaah the end of what I wrote so far what do you guys think??

Do you want more?

I would love feedback

[twinker-bell-sparkles]

Steddie idea/ficlet???

Steve has know his was gay for a long time. Probably around middle school is when he put it together. With him and Tommy having those strange practice kissing and so forth. He knew he’d either be in a bread relationship or just miserable in a heterosexual relationship. However, getting outed was not on that list. He sighs as he looks at his locker. Faggot written in sharpie across his locker. Loud boots echo behind him. “Pardons m your highne- shit dude what happened to your locker?” Steve turns to see the other openly queer kid in school. Steve sighs “I got outed, someone found my journal at a house party and blabbed. Just- just leave me be Munson. I don’t wanna deal with more bullying today.” He turns back to his locker and starts to clean off his locker. “Harrington, dude that sucks, uhmm if you ever need anything call.” Eddie smiles and hands him a number. Steve smiles to himself, another thing he didn’t expect was to become friends with Eddie Munson. Maybe this year won’t suck as much as he thought.

- basically the idea is that Steve n Eddie are like rivals but become friends

- Steve is outed by Tommy which is revealed later

- Eddie teaches Steve dnd, Steve only says no to the kids bc he finds their campaigns boring

- Steve gets kicked out and lives out of his car for a couple of weeks til Hopper finds out n lives with Hopper, later moving in with Eddie

- Steve is actually rather gifted in math n science but struggles with English n history bc of his dyslexia.

- his style is veey different than the shiw, mind you this is historically inaccurate bc fashion trends n shiz, he wears a lot of pastel n soft sweaters, with jeans n boots.

-this takes place in the middle of S1 and go forth, everything is sort of the same except, Steve turns down Nancy, bc she doesn’t think Steve is gay. And Steve doesn’t wanna deal with that. So barb doesn’t die bc they’re away but bc Steve tried to save her and she just had too much water in her lungs. Her body got lost in the transferring at the hospital. S2 is the same except Nancy tries to start some drama, don’t worry she redeems herself later, gotta have some conflict, Steve finds out what Tommy did, billy is not great but not bad, has a redemption arc, Eddie n Steve start dating at the end of this season s3 is the same, except WLW n MLM solidarity happens in the bathroom scene n hopper lives Murray “dies” instead. S4 is very different, 1. Chrissy lives, 2. The hoppers stay in Hawkins, Murray comes back, Jason is convicted for the murders of Patrick n Fred. Steve comes out the the group.

That’s all I have so far for his fic idea.

[inairbinad]

play me something

I had big plans for @steddie-week, but alas, the last few days have put me through it. So even though I hit a wall with this one, enjoy a little excerpt of my season 2 rewrite (that hopefully I'll finish one day), where Concussed Steve loses any and all ability to hide his giant crush on Eddie.

Day 2 Prompt: Fade to Black, Metallica | 1200 words | Pre-relationship

Before Steve knew what was happening, Eddie hauled him up off the floor of Joyce’s kitchen. Eddie got a solid grip around his waist, then twisted his face towards Steve’s.

“Can you walk?” he asked. Steve liked the way he could feel the little puff of Eddie’s breath on his cheek. He slid his arm around Eddie's shoulders for good measure.

“Think so,” Steve nodded, which set off another round of throbbing pain. He winced, fighting off a wave of nausea, and added, “Don’t let go, though.”

“I won’t,” Eddie promised, and squeezed Steve’s waist tighter. “C’mon, big boy. I gotcha.”

Steve smiled at the nickname, distracted enough to take a minute to realize Eddie was taking him outside instead of towards the couch. “Where are we going?”

“Gotta get out of here before that oaf wakes up,” Eddie nodded towards Billy, passed out on the floor. Steve thought that was probably a good idea.

"You're so strong," Steve marveled, leaning further into Eddie as they made their way into the cool November air. Robin snorted from somewhere behind them, and Eddie chuckled like maybe Steve wasn't making any sense. Steve was about to argue his case, but he saw Max was waiting for them with the car door open.

It was only then that it occurred to Steve that they were stealing Billy’s Camaro. Steve laughed goofily as Eddie helped him fold himself into the back seat, then Robin quickly climbed in beside him. Steve rested his head on her shoulder and focused on not drifting off as the rest of the kids somehow squeezed themselves inside.

“There’s too many people in this car,” Steve pointed out as he watched Mike climb into Dustin’s lap, then as Max and Lucas squashed themselves into the front seat together.

“Thanks, mom,” Mike groused. Robin did the honors of flicking his ear for Steve.

Eddie finally climbed into the driver’s side, then twisted around to check on Steve again. “You okay?”

“Eh,” Steve shrugged, but offered Eddie a small smile. Eddie's grin in return was lopsided, almost fond, and Steve had to reel in the urge to lean over and kiss his rapidly blackening eye better.

That got a little easier when Eddie faced forward and turned the ignition. The sound of electric guitar went screeching through the cabin, and Steve grimaced from the way it made his ears ring anew. Without even having to look at Steve’s face, Eddie quickly turned the volume down with a muttered apology tossed over his shoulder.

Steve wondered if Eddie had ever been concussed before. He would have asked, but he had to focus pretty hard on not throwing up once the car started moving.

“Sorry to say, but I think the only redeeming quality about your step-brother is his taste in music, Red,” Eddie said after a while. Steve hadn’t really been listening, but he wasn’t surprised that whatever Billy had left playing in his tape deck was right up Eddie’s alley.

“You would say that,” Max scoffed, but Steve could see the way she smiled at Eddie across the center console.

“How’s he doing back there, Buckley?” Eddie called back, and Robin squeaked when she saw that he turned around to look for the briefest of moments.

“How are you doing?” Robin countered at a near screech. “Keep your eyes on the road! Steve’s fine!”

“Am I?” Steve groaned, mostly in response to her volume.

“Yes, you are,” Robin insisted, then went back to petting his head in soothing strokes. Steve let himself get lost in that, and the low hum of whatever Billy had been listening to before he came and rocked Steve’s head half to hell with a dinner plate.

“What are we listening to?” Steve asked as Eddie pulled into a gas station. It didn’t immediately strike him as odd that Lucas and Max got out instead of Eddie, and that they didn’t actually seem to be putting gas in the car. He was too busy looking at Eddie’s face as he turned around in the driver’s seat and gave Steve the softest smile he’d ever seen.

“Metallica,” Eddie answered. “For Whom the Bell Tolls, specifically…and ironically. Is it hurting your head?”

Steve didn’t know why that was ironic, but he thought maybe he might get the chance to find out if he kept Eddie talking.

“No,” Steve answered, barely daring to shake his head. He was happy to realize it didn’t make him want to barf anymore. “You just never got the chance to play me something.”

Steve didn’t realize how his voice was positively dripping with affection until he caught Mike making a face at him out of the corner of his eye.

Robin laughed nervously and said, “Geez, dingus. You sound delirious.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at Robin, winked at Steve, and then turned back around so he could fast forward to the next song. The softest of the guitar riffs Steve had heard on this tape so far started up, and he immediately sunk into it like a warm bath.

“How’s that?” Eddie asked, looking back at him again. Like maybe all he really wanted in that moment was to take care of Steve.

“I like it,” Steve said with a dopey smile.

“Good,” Eddie grinned back. Then he pointed his forefinger at Steve, and the streetlight gently glinted off the silver of his skull ring. “Just because this song’s called Fade to Black, don’t get any ideas.”

“I won’t,” Steve promised, feeling the dip of disappointment in his gut when Max and Lucas climbed back into the car, and Eddie had to focus on driving instead of him again. He realized that they were accompanied by the loud sound of sloshing when Eddie pulled back onto the road. “What—?”

Eddie looked almost guilty from what Steve could see from the side of his face, and the way his shoulders hitched up around his ears.

“Where are we actually going?” Steve asked warily, even though he already knew.

“The tunnels,” all the kids said in unison.

“I thought I said no!” Steve tried to sound stern but it came out as more of a whine.

Robin patted his shoulder in sympathy and said, “Your kids overruled us.”

“How?” Steve asked, incredulous. He realized the three of them were outnumbered, but these dweebs were small. “Eds?”

Steve watched Eddie clench his hands around the steering wheel before he answered.

“Look, Stevie,” Eddie said, sounding like he was leveling with him. “I’ll turn around—”

“WHAT?” all the kids, again, yelled together.

“Let me finish!” Eddie hissed over them. Steve appreciated the way he got them to shut the fuck up without yelling. “I think their plan is solid, Steve. I also think even if I do turn around, they’ll knock me and Buckley out and steal this car again the minute I do. Because your children are kind of scary.”

Max looked entirely smug as she turned around and wiggled her eyebrows at Steve from the front seat.

“Steve, you promised to keep us safe,” Dustin cut in with a surprisingly rational tone. He leaned around Robin and looked Steve in the eye as he gave him a pretty convincing puppy dog stare. “He's right. We're doing this either way, but we'd rather do it with you. So keep us safe. Please?”

Steve paused, even though he knew he wasn’t gonna keep arguing the point. They already had the goddamn gas and everything.

“Why are they my kids?” Steve grumbled, and Eddie laughed.

[mcfiddlestan]

Fandom Ask Game

4, 11 (Frostiron and Winteriron), 17 (Loki), 22 (Tony Stark), 25 (Bucky Barnes)

4. Is there a popular pairing you don't necessarily dislike but aren't too invested in?

Not that I can think of. There are a lot I dislike and I won't invest any time in and go so far as to block the ship name and any variants so I don't have to see art or headcanons, etc, about it. So if it's not blocked and I see it and I think the art is cool I guess that means I don't dislike it? I often share it even if it's a ship I don't necessarily involve myself in. Like I don't write for SamBucky or SamTasha, or Stony (although I've apparently blocked Stony, tho I'm not sure when that happened lol), but if I see cool art I'll share it. But yeah....there's a lot I avoid by all means.

11. What's your favorite piece of fanart?

OMG HOW CAN YOU MAKE ME CHOOSE?! I literally have more than 600 pix of fanart for FrostIron -- some made specifically for me -- and 134 of WinterFrost. Anything by @batwynn and lightonlight I love. And you'll probably laugh but this is one of my favorites for FrostIron.

As for WinterFrost...I seem to have made a lot more edits for this ship than any other LOL. But millennium-h always did the BEST edits for WF, including making those pix of Hiddles kissing someone on the rocks MUCH BETTER (sadly, they left the fandom not too long ago). And like with FI, I have a lot of faves, but this is one I really enjoyed.

and one to go along with it

17. What's a book, movie, or show you think [Loki] would like?

I think it's obvious that Loki would be all over Shakespeare and any adaptation of his works. And he'd probably critique it better than Shakespearean scholars themselves. But I think that mischievous and love of chaos side of him would probably also be really into trash reality TV. Like the Real Housewives franchise. He'd have watch parties and hours-long discussions afterwards and everyone would be shocked by how accurate his psychoanalysis is. Because if there's anything people who are used to being overlooked and ignored can do it's read other people's emotions.

22. Give us a headcanon for [Tony Stark].

Aw man. I'm terrible at headcanons! I don't even know, man. Maybe that despite all his bravado (or overconfidence to cover for his insecurity) and need to prove himself to Howard, there's still enough of Maria in him that emerges in his tendency to take "lost" souls under his wing, not even to mentor but to give them a hand? Happy (loss of his boxing career, so he gave him a job), Peter, obvs, and even Steve, who he reluctantly helped bc y'know resentment. I say that's Maria bc considering how difficult Howard as a person was, who the fuck else could see anything redeeming enough to marry and have a child with him? She had to see something under the surface, yeah?

Idk. Told you I don't do headcanons. LOL

25. What's your least favorite thing [Bucky Barnes] said or did?

Killed Tony's parents??? IDK, there isn't much I dislike about Bucky, except that they didn't let him kiss Steve! I'm honestly just glad they never included that relationship from the comic in the movies bc I despise that actress and it would've bothered me to watch her shitty flirt-acting and whatever with Sebastian. It was bad enough with Fluffalo. Ick.

Thanks for asking!!

Fandom Ask Game

[aurumacadicus]

"You look pretty while you sleep. Prettier than you look when you're glaring at me. Yep, exactly like that." with Stony plz?

Teehee actually no this one is really mean >:3c

--

"...lly missed you," Steve heard, distantly. He tried to remember where he was.

He'd had a job. He hadn't been happy about it. Why? Someone he hadn't wanted to see. He'd needed the job though. Had had to grit his teeth and bear it.

"You look pretty while you sleep."

Tony, he remembered suddenly. He hadn't seen him since they'd broken up. Hadn't wanted to see him. But Jim had asked him as a favor. Tony's used to threats, so he's not taking them seriously, Jim had said, voice solemn. But these threats, Steve... they're different.

"Prettier than you look when you're glaring at me."

Steve scowled, finally blinking his eyes open. "Tony."

"Yep, exactly like that," Tony sighed, and Steve swore he saw some regret on his face before his mask carefully fell into place, like shudders over a window. He pushed himself up off the bed, walking over to his suitcase instead.

Steve sat up. "Why did you let me sleep?"

"Because you were exhausted?" Tony answered, voice carefully blasé. "I know you always get tired after a plane ride, and then you had to follow me around that gala for five hours."

"My comfort is not more important than your safety," Steve barked, scowling at him. He fought the urge to get off the bed and shake him. It wouldn't help. It had never worked before, after all.

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, finally plucking out his toiletry bag. "You're no good to me if you're suffering from sleep-deprivation."

Steve stood, managing to get to the bathroom door at the same time he did and slamming his hand against the doorway, blocking him from entering. "Jim said you weren't taking these threats seriously, but I can't believe just how bothered you aren't," he snapped, glaring at him. "Don't you care about your life at all?"

"Maybe I could finally get more than an hour's sleep if I died," Tony scoffed, grabbing his forearm to try and urge it out of his way.

"Shit like that is why we broke up, Tony," Steve snapped.

Tony finally dropped his mask, turning to glare back at him. "Yeah, because I'm a fuck-up! I know that already! And if Rhodey wasn't such a pain in my ass when he was trying to take care of me, you wouldn't have to be here to see my stupid face again! But for some reason he thinks I have redeeming qualities, so unfortunately here we both are!"

"Why is it so hard to believe that people actually like you?!" Steve exclaimed, exasperation creeping in past the anger.

Tony scoffed in disbelief, outraged. "You have a lot of audacity saying that to me, you know! You know firsthand exactly why people don't like me. I'm frustrating. I don't know how to change. I--"

"I broke up with you because I couldn't stand that you didn't care if you left me behind!" Steve shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You don't take threats to your safety seriously, I--I asked you why you won't take threats seriously, and you shrugged, as if me being left behind without you didn't fucking matter!" He finally reached out, grabbed Tony's shoulders, and gave him the shake he'd been wanting to give him for over a decade. "I love you, Tony. I want you around for a long time. I want to grow old with you."

"No you don't," Tony choked out, trying to pull out of his grip. He did that sniff he always did when he was trying to swallow back his emotions, not wanting to show he was vulnerable. "You're young, you--you're not going to grow old with me, Steve, you're just going to get older and be stuck with some gross elderly--"

"You said the age gap didn't bother you," Steve began angrily.

"No one ever wanted to stay like you did," Tony said, or shouted, it felt loud but it also felt small, like he was trying to keep from falling apart and failing. "People got what they wanted and moved on, and you didn't, and I didn't know what to do, Steve, no one talked about--about marriage, and where we'd live for the majority of the year, and kids. Not with me as their husband. You always made fun of me for having starlets on my arm but none of them ever wanted to marry me, Steve."

Steve's grip loosened a little in shock. "You thought I was just like them. That I was around for a good time, not a long time."

"Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy must have told you what I'm like. Especially when they realized you were serious. Why did you stay as long as you did?" Tony asked quietly, sniffling.

"Because I fucking wanted those things, like I've never wanted anything else, Tony," Steve whispered, pulling him closer. "And I wanted them with you. I don't care that you're older than me or that I'll have to take care of you. Tony, don't you understand? Taking care of you has been the only thing I've ever wanted to do. It wouldn't stop just because you were old. It would have been a privilege to be the one you leaned on."

"I didn't know," Tony admitted, as if Steve couldn't tell, as if it wasn't suddenly completely obvious. "I'm not--not good at this even in the short term. I never would have understood."

Steve let his hands drift down, closer to Tony's elbows. Yeah, Tony hadn't really had a chance, had he? And neither had Steve. Too different. Too alike, in other ways, too.

"Did you mean it?" Steve asked quietly.

Tony blinked, brows furrowing together. "Did I mean what?"

"You said you missed me," Steve said. "Before telling me I was prettier in my sleep."

"Of course I missed you, Steve," Tony whispered, dropping his head. "I love you. I missed you as soon as you walked out the door. I never wanted--"

Steve tugged him in close, smashing their mouths together, because that was all he needed to hear.