#steve is the therapist friend

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Eddie: I'm sad

Steve: Is there anything I can do to help you?

Eddie: You can fuck the sad out of me

Steve: How about we talk about our feelings-

[strangersteddierthings]

[To read on Ao3]

It's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. He doesn't understand why everyone won't just stop asking if he wants to talk.

It'll be better for you to get it out of your system, Steve. (Nancy) Talking these things through really helped me, Steve. (Max) You know we're here for you, don't you, Steve? (Dustin) If anyone understands, it's us. Me. You know that, right, Steve? (Robin)

Isn't he allowed to have one damn secret to himself!? Robin did almost get him to crack because out of everyone, Robin would understand his ridiculous, almost overwhelming crush on Eddie Munson.

He's not keeping it a secret because he's embarrassed of his crush, but because he's afraid of rejection for the first time ever. Based on past experience, Steve has always been the one doing the rejecting. In fact, Steve would argue he's never been rejected before. Nancy and he broke up, and breaking up doesn't count as rejection. It's just a change in feelings. And Robin didn't reject him because she had told a half truth when they thought they were gonna die, and then came out to him when he confessed, and rejection also doesn't count if you were never a romantic option to begin with.

Eddie is the first crush he's had (that he's willing to, eventually, act upon) that he's uncertain about. Eddie flirts with him, sure, but he also flirts with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. He doesn't shy away from Steve's touch, but he rarely initiates it himself. Everything Steve tries to test, to gauge Eddie's interest, just falls flat, or doesn't work, or isn't enough to show if Eddie likes him romantically or as a friend.

Anyway, it's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. Annoyed because he knows that waiting for him at his own house is an ambush (an intervention, they'd called it) from his own supposed friends. Steve had just listened to them plan the whole thing over the walkie talkie.

When Steve pulls into his driveway, he's a little impressed at that fact nothing looks off. There are no extra cars, no bikes scattered across the lawn. The house looks dark, even.

When he goes for the door, it's unlocked, though, which is the dead giveaway. Steve sighs heavily before letting himself in. He doesn't bother to flick on the light in the foyer, just shrugging out of the Family Video vest and toeing off his shoes, leaving both in a pile by the door before squinting into the house.

It is dark, but he can make out irregular shapes, lightly illuminated by the light from the backyard coming through the large windows on the far wall. It looks like they've rearranged his furniture. He also hears the slight creak of the floorboards, from the kitchen. That would be Lucas, who Steve knows has been tasked with sneaking around and making sure Steve can't just bolt back out the front door (like he's ever actually run away from a confrontation).

They were very thorough with the planning. Steve knows where a majority of people are lurking, cutting him off from 'fleeing'. Lucas in the kitchen, to cut him off from the front door. El at the top of the stairs so he can't hide in his room. Argyle stationed in the hall that leads to the garage. Everyone else scatted throughout the living and dining room.

Might as well get this over with.

Steve makes it about halfway to the living room before a single floor lamp lights up. It illuminates Robin, who has turned his father's favorite chair around to face the front door instead of the TV, arm still up from where she'd twisted the nob on the lamp. "Steve. We need to talk."

"Buckley," Steve answers, calm as he can manage, surveying the room. Everyone else is just out of the line of light from this ancient lamp. He wonders how they managed that. Still. He knows they're here, so with as much confidence as he can muster, he looked directly at an out of place shadow and hopes he's right as he says, "you want to talk, too, I suppose?"

"How-" it's Dustin's voice that starts to speak and is quickly cut off with a smacking sound. Steve's willing to bet it's Max or Erica who slaps a hand over Dustin's mouth to keep him quit.

"Okay, so Dustin's here, too," Robin says, trying to regain control of the ambush but Steve's not having it.

He puts his hands on his hips and says in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the quiet house, "And Lucas, sneaking though the kitchen to the door. Argyle in the hallway, El upstairs. The rest of you are here, too. I heard the whole thing on the walkie."

"What! You were supposed to be at work!" Dustin yelps as almost every light flicks on at once. Each light switch has a person stationed at it. Steve can now see Jonathan and Nancy to his right, Dustin, Max, and Mike also to the right, but further into the living room. To the left, Argyle has made his was from the hallway, and Eddie (Jesus fuck, only this group of assholes bring his crush to the intervention about refusing to talk about his crush! (not that they know about the crush)), Erica and Will mirror the position of the others, almost against the wall to stay out of the light from the windows. He hears the stairs creak as El makes her way down.

"I was. It was slow. I got the walkie from my trunk to ask someone to save me from boredom just in time to hear your scheming," says Steve.

"We aren't scheming, Steve," Robin says, standing from the chair now and stepping closer. "We're worried. You don't talk to us."

"I talk to, like, almost all of you every day!"

"Not about important things!"

"I happen to think that discussing the newest releases is important. Tells me a lot about all of your guys' terrible taste in movies."

"Steve!" Nancy steps in now, "this is serious."

"It's really not. You are all making a big deal about this and it's not!" Steve says.

"Why are you keeping this from us?" Max pipes up, "if you can't talk to us about this, then who can you? We understand."

"Look, I know we've all experienced this.... issue, at some point, but that's doesn't mean I want to talk to any of you about it-"

"Issue he says! You can't even say it," Robin challenges him, matching his hands on hip stance, mirroring him.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. This is getting ridiculous. Of course, he can't say it! He's barely gotten through his sexuality crisis and hasn't even come out to Robin yet! He wants to, really, but... "Listen. I appreciate that you are all so invested in this, but you need- sorry, no. I need you to let me do this at my own pace."

"It's been since '83! How much longer do you need!?" Dustin is looking at him like he's grown a second head and that-

What. Wait. What? Steve's brain screeched to a halt. "What."

"What what?" Dustin raises his hands, confused. "You need to talk to someone about what we all went though. The Upside Down! We all talk to you, but you don't talk to any of us and bottling it up isn't healthy."

Steve's arms go limp at his sides and all he can do is blink. They aren't- they don't think- Steve's brain hasn't restarted yet, which is what he blames for what leaves his mouth next. "Wait. This isn't about my crush on Eddie?"

A clatter and the sound of glass breaking, accompanied by Eddie's voice cursing follows that. Steve looked over to see that Eddie seems to have fallen back against the wall he was near, knocking a picture from the wall in the process. He's staring at Steve, though, eyes owlish and he looks like he's about to either faint or run away.

Steve's gut twists because neither of those were the reaction he'd hoped for (but they are the reactions he most expected).

"Your WHAT," Robin screeches and that brings Steve back to his brain.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

He just. He just came out to everyone, all at once, in his living room. This is fine, this is fine. He can deal with this. The room and everyone (oh God, everyone) in it fades away as Steve puts one palm flat on his own chest, focuses on feeling his own touch, on the rise and fall of his chest, trying to remember how he draws breath usually. Normally he can pull himself back this way but it's so much, too much, everyone is watching him-

"Steve. Hand," El's voice is distant but he obeys, hand going out on instinct. El takes it and he feels someone else breathing deep. "Follow. In. In. In. In. Hold. Out. Out. Out. Out. Again. In-" El repeats and repeats, counting each second with a word, and slowly she comes into view, her hand held over his on Lucas' chest. El talks him through it as Lucas demonstrates because it's hard to give instruction and breathe at the same time. This is not the first time El's helped him through a panic attack, but it's usually Hopper who has to demonstrate the breathing for him.

She stops when he calms, allows him to pull his hand away from Lucas but not her own hand. She brings her other to clasp around his, holding his one hand with both of hers.

"Thank you," he whispers.

She gives him a nod, face still serious as she stands next to him.

Steve takes in his surroundings. His panic attack wasn't too long, thankfully, but enough that everyone has moved. He seeks out Eddie subconsciously and finds he's relieved to see that he's taken a seat on the couch, Will next to him all but tucked into his side. No one left, and Steve's glad for that, but they all look so uncertain and off kilter now, scattered across the living room. Robin is a few steps closer than she was before and looks like she wants to finish stepping forward, but not sure if she should.

"Um, thank you guys, for not freaking out while I was freaking out," Steve says, reaching out his other hand to Robin. She takes it and he pulls her into a half hug. "So, uhh, I thought I knew what this was about but guess I didn't."

"Of all the things to think we'd stage an intervention for, having a crush on Ed-someone is certainly not that high on our priority list," Robin snorts from where she's buried her head in his shoulder.

"Well, it makes sense now that it's not about- Maria said I should have talked to you guys sooner, like individually, but too late I guess."

"Who the fuck is Maria!?"

"Language, Henderson," Steve snaps on instinct. "She's my therapist."

For the second time tonight, Robin says, "your WHAT?"

"Therapist?" Steve repeats, but it sounds like a question even to himself because he's almost afraid there's a wrong answer here.

"I didn't know you were seeing a therapist, Steve," Nancy says, voice gentle in a way Nancy's voice really isn't usually. "Do you talk about- I don't know how to phrase this without prying."

Steve rescues her from the awkwardness of having to ask. "She knows about the Upside Down. Dr Owens introduced her after Starcourt. Why are you surprised by this?"

"Because we didn't know," says Dustin.

"I see Maria every Tuesday. How did you not know?" Steve asks.

"What do you mean how did we not know!?" Dustin shouts.

"Can you not shout at me?" Steve sighs. He needs to sit down, so he does. Just drops there, dragging Robin and El with him. Neither complains, though. "I've been going to therapy every Tuesday since '83. I guess it just became part of my schedule, so I don't think about it. And I did, like, actively hide I was seeing a therapist that first year so guess that was habit."

"Is this why you don't talk to us?" Robin's voice is quiet.

"Well, yeah. I didn't realize it was affecting you all so much that I didn't. I thought- I am talking about it. I told Maria about a nightmare I had just last week, I'm not bottling it all up," Steve reassures, "You all talk to me. I didn't wanna create some like, trauma loop where we just talk about how awful it was back and forth and never get, like, closure with it, so I didn't share back. I've just been trying to do for you guys what Maria does for me, but I'm not, like, qualified."

"We could all use some therapy," Nancy says in what seems to be a rather agreeable voice for the tone of the room currently, "but why were you the only one offered help after Starcourt?"

"Oh. Well. It was less Dr Owens offering Maria's service, and more my mom barely refraining from murdering Owens on the spot until he gave into every demand she had. Which, being fair to Owens, he was more than willing to help to begin with."

"Your mom spoke to Owens?" Jonathan speaks for the first time.

"Oh. Wow," Steve blinks, feeling a bit thrown. There's so much he's unintentionally hid from his friends, things that could have been helping them (like them talking to Maria instead of him, have any of them even been offered therapy?) but he's also realizing that they've made an awful lot of assumptions about him without talking to him. "So, wait, I need to know something. How did this come to happen?" He half-heartedly waves towards everything around him with the arm he has half wrapped around Robin.

"The intervention?" Max asks.

"Sorta? No. I get why you thought you needed to intervene, but I don't understand why you came to that conclusion without like, asking me things? All of you were like talk to us Steve we can help Steve we understand Steve but how did it not occure to any of you that I might already be talking to someone?"

It seems the only one brave enough to answer is the person who has known Steve the least, because Argyle says, "far as they could tell, who would you talk to that's not them, bro? Like, you come home to a big empty house. On bad days, Nancy can still cuddle up to her mom and just be held even though Mrs. Wheeler doesn't know what's up, but you're like, alone."

"I-what? What's the implication there?"

"Steve, we can count on one hand the number of times you've ever spoken about your parents," Nancy says, "I guess we all came to the conclusion that you were... you felt like you had to be alone in dealing with the trauma, like you're alone in this house. I mean, we dated for a year and a half, and I never even met your parents."

That's true, but it's because his parents were going through a rough patch and trying to work through his dad's... problem while also working on a big deal for the company. Steve's not going to pretend he knows how his dad's business works but it involves a lot of meetings in cities bigger than Hawkins. "You all mock me for being a rich kid, and then act... what, surprised that my parents actually have to run the company they own?"

"No. The only things you've ever told me about your parents was that your dad was an asshole and that you didn't want them to find out about beer at a party you threw!"

Well. That does paint his dad in a real bad light. "Well, I was younger and stupider when I said those things!"

"When the Russians drugged you, you made a comment. Something about only doing marijuana, dad," Robin says softly from his side. "it's kinda easy to draw the conclusion that your relationship with your parents might be negative at worst, absent at best."

Steve retracts his arm from around Robin, suddenly cold on the inside. He gently shakes off El as well and shoves off the ground so he's standing again, taking three steps back to be able to see everyone at a quick glance around. "I think it's best if we stop this here. I can't- I'm gonna say some shit I'll regret otherwise."

"Steve-"

"Robin," Steve cuts her off, feeling the need to defend his parents, who he loves so fucking much, from his friends. Anger rolls tight under his skin but he doesn't want to give in, so he goes cold instead. "I call my mom every night. They have a mobile phone my dad pays way too much for, so they can know I'm still alive no matter where they have to be currently. My parents are absent," he spits the word like venom, "because I begged them to leave after Starcourt and the only reason they didn't drag me out of here with them kicking and screaming is because I was 18 and legally, they couldn't! That's the only real fight I've ever had with my mom, you know. I told them they had to go because Hawkins is fucking cursed and I couldn't protect all of you and them and-" Steve clamps his mouth shut, swallows down the words. He's going to have to talk to Maria about his hero complex again (he thought he was getting better). No one says a thing in the silence, even though they all look like they want to. Steve takes a deep breath, trying to calm. "I'm going to go call my parents, because they're gonna start to worry, because they do that, if I don't call soon. Let yourselves out like you let yourselves in."

He doesn't quite stomp his way to the kitchen phone, but it's a close call. He could go up to the master bedroom and call privately but a part of him wants them to hear this conversation as they leave. He yanks the phone off the receiver a bit harder then needed and punches in the phone number he's got memorized now. It rings twice.

"Oh Steve, I was just starting to worry!"

"Hi mom. No need to worry. I'm, well, I'm not fine right now, but it's not any Upside Down nonsense."

"Oh, honey, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not, uh, not right now. I just wanted to hear your voice. To tell you I love you, and I miss you. Dad, too," as Steve speaks he hears the sounds of movement, of shuffling down the hallway and the front door. Resolutely, he keeps his back to the kitchen entrance.

"We love and miss you, too."

"When will you guys be able to come visit?"

"Honey, do you need us? We can be on a plane in a few hours."

Steve smiles at that, and hopes she can hear it in his voice, "no. But, uhh, I wouldn't mind seeing you guys sometime soon."

"We'll make it happen. Hey, how about we have that barbeque you mentioned before. We'd like to be able to meet the people keeping you safe. I do wish the Byers still lived in town, I'd love to catch up with Joyce".

"Oh! I can't believe I didn't tell you! The Byer's are moving back. Oh God! Mom! Hopper's not dead!"

There's a fumbling noise, like perhaps his mom dropped the phone. Some staticky noise, shuffling sounds, and his father's voices comes through the phone, "Steve, your mother looks pretty pale, kiddo. What did you just tell her?"

"Jim Hopper's alive and kicking. The Starcourt Russians kidnapped him apparently."

A deep sigh and then his dad says, "We'll be home in two days, okay kiddo? Gonna want a full explanation of that, but I've got to go, your mom's going to faint -sit down, Stephanie- We love you."

"Love you, too."

Steve hangs up and turns around to see El, Will, and Eddie still lingering by the kitchen entrance. He's not as angry on the inside anymore, and it helps that these three didn't really pipe in and call his parents terrible people who don't love him. (okay, so he's putting words into everyone's mouths, Maria will frown at him hard when he talks about this, but he's going to allow himself to be a little petty right now).

"I am sorry for being part of this," El says, "I do not want you mad at me."

"Never, El," Steve strides forwards, easily pulling El into a hug. She's probably just worried for him because everyone else was worried, and not because she has some idea about what his parents are like. Honestly, El's probably never even thought out Steve's parents even once. "I'm not really mad at anyone. Just... frustrated, and upset, perhaps. We'll all make amends tomorrow, I'm sure."

El releases him after a moment and before she's even fully out of his arms, Will is pulling him into a hug just as deep. Steve's not sure why, he and Will aren't particularly close, but Will clings to him and makes this soft, sob noise as he presses his face into Steve's shoulder, and Steve's wrapping his arms around him on instinct, "Oh, hey baby Byers, it's all good."

Will shakes his head no and just sobs for a moment. Steve lets him, rubs his back after a moment, trying to be soothing. It's a long hug but not awkward. Finally Will pulls back, swiping at his eye with both his hands. "I- thank you, Steve."

Steve is bewildered by that, and it must show on his face, because he hears Eddie try and hide a laugh behind a cough. Steve says, "you're welcome?"

Will doesn't clarify. He just steps back and El takes his hand easily, and the siblings leave, presumably to climb into the back of someone's waiting car.

Which leaves him alone in his house with Eddie.

Eddie, who knows about his crush now because Steve blurted it out loud for everyone to hear.

"I'll leave if you want me to," Eddie says, like he can read Steve's mind, even as he leans against the counter next to him like he plans to stay, "but I- I don't wanna start throwing everyone else under the bus, but I really just thought this was a case of Hero Complex where you think you're only good for getting between us and danger and that we were all gonna try and like, show you how important you are to us all so you'd open up to us. I didn't even think about, like, your parents."

Steve believes that, so he huffs a dry laugh, "yeah. I'm sure you're idea of my parents are snotty rich people who look down on everyone."

Eddie's got the decency to be embarrassed about that truth, if his red face is anything to go on. "Sure, but like, I thought the same thing about you and that turned out to be wrong, so I can admit that. Also, I thought you were an asshole who always got what they wanted, and that's not really a bad parent trait, y'know? Caring about what your kid wants."

"Well, thanks for admitting to it, man."

Eddie nods, then looks away, towards the door. "Do you- should I leave? Do you even want me hear?"

Did he? "Yeah, I want you here. I kinda want Robin, too. I shouldn't have kicked everyone out like that."

"No dude, that was fair. But, uh, I can go chase down Nancy's car and see if Robin will return with me."

Steve does laugh, then, "no. We're so codependent as it is. I just... Robin's been here when I've called my mom. She's here all the time. I don't understand how she just... never picked up on it."

"You always call from the kitchen phone, or do you make it a private conversation? 'Cause Buckley and you are stupidly codependent, but if something's meant to be private, I doubt she's going to be eavesdropping on you."

That's true. And Steve knows he's being irrational. He never said anything, he knows he never even talks about his parents, that they're so rarely even in Hawkins these days, it isn't a farfetched idea to assume it's because he doesn't love them, or they don't' love him. That doesn't stop the hurt he feels for his parents. And a little for himself because, yeah, he never said anything, but also, they never asked.

They see their parents every day, have left their parents in the dark about the truth for reasons Steve doesn't agree with, but he'll never argue that choice with them, never assume they have a bad relationships with their parents for it.

"I had to tell my parents," Steve says, because he and Eddie are just standing in his kitchen in silence and he's thinking these things anyway. Might as well think out loud, "when Billy punched me unconscious and I woke up in my own damn car being driven by Max I just- what if I hadn't made it home to them? What if Billy had hit me one too many times, had beaten me to death? My mom was pacing the living room with worry when I did finally get home. They were supposed to already be on a plane to I don't even know where, but she was so worried about me that she stayed. She didn't even know about the Upside Down. Didn't know how close she'd come to losing me."

Eddie doesn't say anything, but he moves closer, to lean against the kitchen island, across from Steve.

"She was so fucking terrified when she saw me. Wanted to know who did it, what happened, where I'd been- she's never had to patch up anyone after getting a beating, so she tried to usher me back outside, to the car, a hospital I guess, but the thought of leaving the house was so overwhelming. After everything that just happened? I wanted to be home.

"I think she caught on to that. Instead, she pulled me into the bathroom and did her best to clean me up. I tried my hardest to hold it together but she- my mom just took my face in her hands, so gently, afraid to hurt me more," Steve mimics the motion, holding his hands out in front of him like he's cupping a face, "and just said you can tell me what happened, honey. No matter what it is. I love you so much. and I just- I broke down." Steve stops, sucking in a deep breath because just the memory of that night brings back the emotions. His mother's fear for his life. Her love for him.

"I told her everything. Just started talking and couldn't stop. And when I was done, a crying mess on the bathroom floor, she just... just sunk down beside me and held me as I cried. And the craziest part of all, she believed me. The next morning, when I thought for sure she was going to ask what kinda drugs I took to come up with that story, instead, she asked me if she could call Hopper. Wanted to talk to another adult about it," Steve swipes at his eyes, getting misty at the memories before continuing, "the only reason they aren't here right now is because I basically begged them to leave. To go grow their company, I'd said. I'd be here, and I promised to call every night, so they know I'm safe."

"Is that why you've never redecorated?" Eddie asks, out of left field, "'cause having their things around reminds you of them?"

Steve shrugs because he's not sure. "They told me I could change whatever. Make this house your own home, Steve my dad had said but, it's always felt like home, y'know?"

Eddie nods. "Not even a little tempted to change the wallpaper in your room? 'Cause it's pretty fuckin' atrocious man."

That makes Steve bark out a laugh, "ok, yeah, that's just me being lazy."

"Well, if you ever want help removing that wallpaper, count me in. The sooner, the better. How you can stand to look at it, and with those matching curtains, yikes," Eddie is grinning at him and Steve sees what he's doing. Distracting him from the heavy topic. Steve appreciates it. "I won't be caught dead in there until you change it."

"Oh? Hoping to be in my room sometime soon, Eddie?" Steve asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I did kinda just learn that my crush has a crush on me, so maybe I was hoping," Eddie gives a shrug, aiming to sound indifferent and aloof, Steve thinks, but he can see the grin Eddie's trying to fight from forming on his face, and the way his hand has gone to his hair, pulling some strands to hide that grin behind.

Something sweet and happy spreads through Steve's entire body. Steve opens his mouth to say something, he's not sure, but what comes out instead is a big yawn.

"Alright, bedtime for you I think," Eddie says.

Steve nods, because he is tired. The rollercoaster of emotions and events have worn him down. "You wanna stay over and watch terrible movies until we fall asleep?"

Eddie looks delighted to have been asked.

Today was a shitshow, and Steve knows he'll need to reach out to everyone and talk. Individually, because he's not sure he can handle everyone all at once again. But he needs them to know he was just angry and doesn't hate them all or something.

Tomorrow's got promise, though, so that's good enough.

[jonathanbyersphd]

No bc I genuinely hope a majority of s5 is Steve 5th wheeling Jancy and Rockie

[menaceadored]

saw someone mention at the end of season three, steve listing his mom as one of his references on his application to family video is proof that he doesn't have neglectful parents. personally, i favor the idea that steve has a complicated relationship with his mom

I like to imagine that he and his mother were very close when he was a child, practically inseparable, attached at the hip. His mother spoke to him not like he was her son, but her closest friend, her cherished confidant. Likely over sharing when it came to adult matters like issues in her marriage which unsurprisingly led to Steve's own appropriately negative feelings for his father.

Their relationship only started to dwindle when Steve became a teenager and started hanging out with kids like Tommy and Carol and taking on the role of 'King Steve'. He was going through a lot and his father, who never appreciated the bond between him and his mother, was putting a lot of pressure on him to prove himself 'as a man'. He still loved his mother, obviously, but she could tell he was pulling away, keeping secrets when he had previously told her everything, getting into trouble which was so unlike the sweet boy she had once confided in. So, for the next few years, they drift apart and get into petty arguments over nothing.

All the while, his parents' marriage only seems to be growing further apart as well. Steve wonders why they won't just get divorced and save them all the headache.

It's only after Nancy Wheeler gives Steve a thump on the head that turns him around that his mother starts to recognize him and they start talking again. It's not exactly the same as when he was a kid. Steve still has secrets he can't tell her. He's seen things now that he can't explain, doesn't even know where to begin. But he tells her about his breakup with Nancy, about Tommy ditching him for Billy Hargrove, about babysitting Dustin and the kids and how somehow he's almost happier now being friends with a bunch of 12 year olds than he ever was as 'King Steve'. They're talking and honestly, he's just happy to see his mother laugh like she used to.

It's after his graduation when he gets into a heated, semi-physical argument with his father, (disappointed he didn't get into any of the schools he'd planned for Steve to attend and convinced he's a failure, the first time his father has laid a hand on him), that he realizes that despite how unhappy she is in her marriage or his newly busted lip, his mother will never leave his father. But Steve can't find it in himself blame her.

He's always been able to read his mother so easily, like her emotions were his own and he could tell exactly what she was feeling just by being in the same house with her or from the pauses she took over the phone. So without explanation, he understands that in some strange, complicated way, his mother loves his father and always will no matter how he treats her. Or Steve. So she won't leave him and Steve would never convince her otherwise.

Still, at times he finds himself feeling incredibly angry with her, wants to yell, and scream, and beg her to stand up for herself. Stand up for him. But he never does, would never take his anger out on her in that way. Because for some reason, ever since he was a child, Steve has felt this strange responsibility for his mother. This need to shelter her and protect her feelings. And really, he doesn't think that she's the one to blame. So no, he never yells or shows anger towards his mother.

He calls her when she's on business trips and keeps her in the loop on what's going on in his life, tells her about his job at Scoops, his weird coworker Robin (who eventually becomes his best friend Robin), the kids, everything (besides Upside Down matters or anything he feels might upset her). And when both of his parents are in town he stays out of the house. Limits his interactions with his father to as little as possible and only spends time with his mother when the man isn't around. It works for them. It keeps their relationship intact.

Because as much as Steve feels a responsibility to protect his mother and her feelings, he also knows he needs her just as much and couldn't bare to lose her completely. So he compromises because a part of him fears that if his mother were forced to choose between him and his father-

So yeah, Steve lists his mom as a reference on his application to Family Video because his mom is well respected and could go on and on about how wonderful her son is and he loves her and trusts her. Their relationship is just complicated.

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

just thinking about sam wilson <3

[dudeshusband]

i felt bad for steve because his wife is shitty and then i realized i also hate him

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Been dreaming about you

Summary: "I had a dream about her..." Steve only frowned even more - how was that a bad thing? "y'know," Bucky added with a tilt of his head, trying to accentuate what he meant. He didn’t want to say it out loud; it was already as embarrassing as it was.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, miscommunication (or no communication at all), Bucky depreciating himself, mention of war injuries, mention of physical attraction, mention of nudity and sexual act

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist

Bucky stopped at the doorstep as Y/N’s laugh made its way to his ears. 

His eyes immediately found her, sat down at the kitchen’s bar, a box of cereal in her hand. She was heartily speaking with Sam, and like any time she was talking about something she was passionate about she was speaking with her hands. Bucky couldn’t make out what they were discussing, something about milk and cereals that seemed to leave Steve, sat with them, totally unbothered.

While he really needed a cup of coffee before Tony’s briefing, he hesitated to go in. He wasn’t really in the mood for small talk - truth was, these days, he wasn’t in the mood to talk at all, especially to Y/N. Eyeing the coffee machine Y/N’s had her back turned to, he decided she was way too into her conversation to even notice him. He could just go in, take his coffee and leave. 

Yeah, it was a solid plan. 

Though it was without counting on Sam calling after him, as soon as he put a foot in the kitchen. Y/N turned to him right away, her face lighting up.

“Hi!” She greeted him, a big smile on her lips that Bucky tried very hard not to look at all.

Bucky only responded by a sharp nod and nearly run to the coffee machine. Her smile faltered slightly at his cold attitude. She watched him get himself a cup of coffee for a second more before she looked back to her own cereal bowl.

Steve frowned to the exchange; he was used to Bucky and Y/N being quite friendly towards each over. Ever since Bucky had been back in the country, Y/N had been part of his rehabilitation protocol. While Tony and Bruce were working on reversing his trigger words, Y/N was working with Bucky as a physical therapist, to try and fix his chronic right shoulder pain. She had been an army physical therapist, serving one tour in Afghanistan, and was specialized on injuries that led to limb amputation.

While the beginning had been complicated - especially due to how unstable Bucky was at the beginning, Y/N had succeeded on getting Bucky to open up to her. The last months, Steve had even found out Bucky was more eager than before going to his PT session. Whenever Y/N was around, Bucky - who normally wouldn’t stay in the common room and much preferred to stay in the quiet of his own room - would linger a little bit longer with them. Despite whatever Bucky would say, Steve just knew his friend had a crush on Y/N (by judging how red his face turned that one time Steve asked him, it was a pretty good crush). 

The blond watched as Bucky left rapidly after he got his coffee. Y/N too had watched him, Steve realized when he turned to her. Her face was wearing a small frown, and her eyes were fixed on the last place Bucky could have been seen.

“You alright?” he asked.

As always, Y/N looked back to him and smiled. She didn’t fool him though. Steve didn’t know what was wrong and clearly, she didn’t know either.

Over the next week or so, Steve found himself with a lot of déjà-vu.

Y/N would enter in a room Bucky was in and he would magically disappear. Bucky would find whatever good excuses not to do his physical therapy session - volunteering for missions he didn’t even have anything to do with in the first place. He even wouldn’t put a foot on the twenty-six floor - where Y/N had her office - if he knew she was most likely to be there - that was to say, basically every hour of every week day (Yes, Y/N had a slight work addiction).

It was clear for Steve now, Bucky was avoiding Y/N for whatever reason. Even Tony had asked if everything was alright between the two and he wasn’t the one to notice a lot of things about his own relationship - let alone other people’s relationship.

That morning, Steve had finally decided he would clear the air and talk to Bucky. He had asked him to join him in the kitchen for a coffee and this was of course at this exact same moment, Y/N had decided to get out of her office for some well-deserved break.

When she entered the room, Bucky looked like a deer caught in the headlights and stayed frozen in his seat, he didn’t have time to flee this time. Though he had been avoiding her, Y/N still seemed to be happy to see him.

“Hi!” she greeted them with a smile on her face. She picked her favorite cup from the cupboard and put the kettle on. She turned to Bucky naturally while she waited for the water to be ready. “How is your arm?”

“Well, actually.” Steve had barely heard Bucky as he mumbled.

“No pain whatsoever?”

“Nope.”

“Cool then!”

Y/N smiled as Bucky turned his attention back to his cup of coffee. She rolled on her feet, probably searching for a topic to continue the discussion - this was the most words they had exchanged in the last two weeks. She seemed to search and search again, but nothing came to her mind.

The sharp sound of the electric kettle stopping seemed to bring her back on earth. She looked at Steve and then back to Bucky, who was looking at everything but her. Again, Steve saw the way her smile faltered from his friend’s attitude and as her heart seemed to drop further in her chest. She was hurt he was pushing her away.

“Let me know if you need anything.” And without yet another glance at Bucky, she left. Totally forgetting about the cup of tea she was making.

Steve watched her go and then turned to Bucky, eyebrows furrowed. "What's going on between you two?"

Bucky looked up, eyebrows raised as if he was surprised Steve even asked about it. He didn’t even try to explain everything was fine and the blond didn’t know if it was because to him, everything was actually right, or because he was even surprised anyone had noticed his attitude.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know you were lying. It still hurts you.”

“’M fine,” Bucky muttered, eyes going back to his cup of coffee.

"Every time she is around lately, you just... disappear."

Bucky swallowed, hard. So it was that obvious. He really thought he was being subtle. He was such a nobody at the compound that making himself even smaller that usually, nobody noticed. Of course not.

"I had a dream about her..." Steve only frowned even more - how was that a bad thing? "y'know," Bucky added with a tilt of his head, trying to accentuate what he meant. He didn’t want to say it out loud; it was already as embarrassing as it was.

Oh! Steve seemed to understand.

"What's wrong about that?"

His friend gave him a knowing look. What was wrong with that? What was wrong with THAT? He had imagined kissing her, touching her, caressing her. He had seen what he imagined she looked like without her clothes on. It had felt real, so -so- real.

It had been a little bit more than two weeks now and he still remembered every little details. No matter how busy he was keeping his self, he still had flashes of it at the most random times of the day. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without reliving the scene, feeling her hands on his body and so he lived of no sleep and a lot of black coffee. He couldn’t concentrate on anything, it was driving him crazy.

Now, he couldn’t look at her without thinking about this. He tried his best not to be in the same room as her or not speak to her. The simple thought of being near her was overwhelming, let alone to have her touching him during one of his physical therapy sessions.

"Bucky, that's fine. She is one of the nicest person I know. She will tell you if that makes her uncomfortable, you'll talk about it and that will be fine."

Bucky groaned. There was no way he would admit this to her; this was already as embarrassing as it was to discuss this with Steve. He had been used to the other way around. In his past life, he had been the one giving Steve advices on how to act with the ladies, even setting him up on blind dates. Somehow, he felt like he was this thirteen-year-old looking at pinup posters in New York streets again.

"And you never know, she might be interested after all."

"How could she?” Bucky huffed, disgusted with himself. “Have you looked at me recently?"

When Bucky finished his cup and turned to Steve, his body language was indicating he was done with this discussion. Steve looked at him with one of his signature sympathetic glances. To Bucky, it felt more like pity than anything else. Steve was pitying him, old poor brainwashed Bucky, who had been kidnapped and forced to do horrible things. Hydra had made him a living time bomb and he felt it more than ever now.

"Come on Bucky, you know that's not true!"

Too late, Bucky was long gone.

Bucky felt like he was cursed.

He had been trying to avoid Y/N. Just for a little bit longer, just for as long as he couldn’t forget about their dreamed intimate moment. Yet, he continuously found himself in situations where she was too. Like when Tony invited her to their weekly catch-up on how they were planning to remove his trigger words from his head. Like when Sam invited her to the team dinner.

Or like today, when he found himself in the elevator... Alone with Y/N.

They stayed silent for most of the ride. After the last few weeks of she couldn’t get Bucky to talk to her despite her best effort, Y/N seemed to be out of subjects to discuss and preferred looking at her hands. A minute before they arrived on the first floor though, she couldn’t help turn to him and ask the question that was burning her lips for a few days now:

"Did I do something wrong?"

Bucky looked up from his own feet to frown at Y/N, a couple of steps from him. He had purposely left a lot of space between them when she boarded the elevator, but even from where he was, he could still smell her perfume and somehow feel her skin touching his.

He frowned at her, as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. Y/N looked frustrated, even angry at little bit, and she had every right to be. They went from seeing each other twice a week for physical therapy session and sharing a few moments on every occasion they got to nothing at all.

She had replayed the events in her head, trying to find what she could have done wrong, and she just couldn’t make out what had happened.

"Your arm, it's bothering you, I can see," she pointed out. Even if he didn’t want to talk to - and even look at - her, she continued to watch out for him. "Why don’t you just come to me?"

"It's fine," Bucky sharply answered. A little too harshly.

The look of hurt on Y/N’s face made Bucky’s heart break. He knew he was unfair to her, yet he couldn’t admit what was going on. She was a too good person to be around him, a poor fuck-up man and a world known assassin.

Despite everything he was putting her through, Y/N didn't want to admit defeat and after the initial shock of the ton he had used to talk to her, she was ready to speak again.

“Please, just don't,” Bucky spoke more softly this time just at the same time as the elevator doors opened.

“Bucky, I-”

But he was gone before she could say anything more.

Y/N was now avoiding him like the plague.

At first, Bucky had been relieved. Now, his heart only sunk when they shared a look and Y/N was quick to look away. He was longing to see her yet whenever he would go up to her office, she wasn’t there. She didn’t venture to the compound’s kitchen any longer; and he knew it because a small coat of dust had started to cover her favourite cup. He had even tried to ask Steve how she was doing, but the only answer he got was always a “why don’t you ask her yourself?” - after the way he had talked to her, Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do it.

As usual, Bucky would be having his last coffee of the day during his afternoon break, just before he would go meet the team for a strength training session at the compound gym. Steve and his reusable water bottle stomped into the room and huffed finding Bucky here. He continued his way to the water dispenser to fill it. Bucky watched, frowning, as he pushed the button so hard it nearly felt off. His annoyance was irradiating all around him and Bucky didn’t remember to have seen him so… sulking before.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked his friend’s back.

Steve’s shoulder dropped as he seemed to take a breath in. He turned slowly, a shadow on his face. His water bottle was very close to being overfilled and his hand also very close to crush it.

“Y/N has resigned,” his voice was a bit deeper than usual, “effective immediately.”

“I don’t understand-”

“She is leaving, Bucky.”

The information seemed to get to Bucky’s brain in an instant. He immediately got up, literally throwing the stool he was sat on away. He run to the elevator and when it didn’t come quick enough, he decided he would run up the stairs to the level Y/N’s office was on. He ran up the corridor and nearly took the door of his office off the hinges while opening it.

Y/N was there, putting the last books she had on her shelves in a box. She stopped in her tracks from the surprise of the brutal intrusion and gave him a dirty look.

“I really don’t have time for this.”

Her voice was cold and sharp, and Bucky wondered if that was how he had talked to her. It hurt him so much to see only anger in her eyes and to know that everything they had shared was lost. All because of him.

And that was probably why he spoke without thinking:

“I’m attracted to you.”

Y/N dropped the book she had in her hand. She looked at him - he looked at her – and Bucky didn’t let any time for her to open her mouth to speak. He didn’t want to lose the courage he had gather to open up his shell.

“I’ve been attracted to you for… well, since being back, but I only realized this wasn’t just a crush – Peter told me that word – until very recently.” He breathed shakily. “I didn’t know how to handle. This (he gestured between the two of them) is much more than just physical attraction. I have feelings for you and I shouldn’t be feeling that.”

“Bucky…” Y/N sighed, getting around her desk to approach him.

“You and I know, I can’t be feeling like that,” Bucky repeated while Y/N shook her head. “And I am so sorry. I know this doesn’t change how badly I have acted towards you, but I hope with time that I can earn your trust again.”

“I am pretty sure we had this conversation before,” Y/N told him, putting away a string of his hair. She was now in front of him, so close to what they had never been in the last few months. “You can’t decide what other people can think or feel. I know it’s easier to push people away when things get tough, but we need you to tell us what is going on in this brain of yours. Okay?”

Tears in his eyes, Bucky nodded. Y/N smiled at him sweetly and all of his problem suddenly seemed to have disappeared.

“I understand this can be a very difficult thing to hear, but you are a good person, Bucky. Whatever happened to you doesn’t define you.” She hugged him, so hard, as if they were reunited after a long time away. “And for the record, I also have a crush on you.”

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Eddie is gushing about Steve to Robin and he mentions how it's so fucking metal the way he never shies away from danger. Like, quite the opposite, he literally jumps right into it without a second thought!

And suddenly Robin remembers how Steve wanted to be tortured by the actual real Russian secret service if it meant that his then friendly coworker who he never saw outside of Scoops would be at least a little bit safer. And she notices for the first time how Steve always makes sure that everyone is safe before he leaves a dangerous place - how he makes sure to always be the last one - and she thinks fuck.

(She feels so fucking bad. He is her best friend. Her soulmate. The person who knows her best and vice-versa. How has she never noticed this before?!)

They start paying closer attention to him, then. Neither like what they see. Steve's eyebags grow bigger with every day that passes. He doesn't eat a lot. He can never say no to others, no matter how much it inconveniences him. And when Robin and Eddie gush about what an awesome person he is, he gets an uncomfortable expression on his face and denies it. Robin had never noticed how most their interactions were self-deprecating jokes until now, either.

They need to stage an intervention.

The next time Steve walks through the doors of Family Video, Robin and Eddie are ready. They lay down all the facts and propose a simple deal: either go talk to a professional, or they will explain everything to the rest of the party and they will force him to talk to a professional. It will end the same way no matter what he chooses, might as well take the path with least resistance.

The only thing that sounds worse than paying a stranger to talk about his feelings is to be forced to talk about them to his friends, so he agrees.

He doesn't think it will make a difference, at first. It's not like he is allowed to talk about monsters and other dimensions.

The first session is awkward. But Robin and Eddie always look at him with such worried and expectant looks and he cannot bear to burden them in any way, so he starts opening up more. He can't talk about the time he almost got eaten by Demogorgons in a secret supernatural underground tunnelsystem, but he can talk about the time Billie almost beat him to death. He can't talk about the secret Russian operation beneath the mall, but he can talk about almost dying in the "mall fire". (His memories of his time there are all scrambled because of the drugs, anyway. It is more about the 'near-death' thing and never being able to feel safe, which he can talk about)

He doesn't mean to talk about his interpersonal relationships at first. But then his therapist cautiously asks him about his parents, and before he knows it he is spilling beans he didn't even know needed to be spilled. He talks about how he only seems to be friends with people who went through traumatic experiences with him, and what does that say about him? He talks about when he first realized that other kids are not left behind by their parents for months at a time. He finally starts unpacking the whole Nancy situation and realizes, wow, turns out he isn't nearly as over the whole thing as he'd hoped. (There are a lot of tears).

He seamlessly fills session after session, and at first he doesn't think that it makes much of a difference. Until the kids meet him after he is exhausted from a double shift at Family Video and beg him to drive them somewhere or other, and he can say no and not give in without fearing that they will cast him aside.

(Robin and Eddie are smug when they also notice the changes, but Steve supposes they have earned it this one time.)

[steddieas-shegoes]

It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy

He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation

He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him

Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week

Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone

He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little

Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens

And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning

Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him

And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll

But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side

“What’s that?”

“Your walker.”

“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”

“You are today.”

And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy

But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself

“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”

“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”

“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”

“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”

It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him

But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker

He pulled himself up

His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear

Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two

Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving

He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve

“Happy?”

“Are you?”

And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks

Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away

“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”

Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so

It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once

Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days

Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday

When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed

And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date

“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.

Steve should say no, but he doesn’t

Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist

[eufezco]

HOW DID IT END?

How is it that Steve's departure only drove you further apart? How was it possible that the only thing left between you after all was hatred for each other? Maybe these questions could be answered in a therapy session or in a night together.

bucky x fem!reader (angst, smut with plot, lovers to enemies to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

—James, condition of your release, session now.

You looked at Bucky and he looked back at you, pressing his lips together and starting to walk after his therapist, annoyed.

—You too, young lady.

—That's okay, I can wait here with Sam.

—It wasn't a request. Sam, you have front-row seats for the show if you like—. The demanding tone in her voice surprised you and you had no choice but to follow her.

The therapist sat down at the table and opened her notebook. You and Bucky were at the other side of the table, sitting next to each other and in front of the woman. You didn't look at each other, you had not even shared a word. Sam, who was leaning against the wall behind the therapist, looked at both of you and shook his head. Steve was right when he said that you were both equally stubborn.

—So, who would like to start?

—I don't even know what I'm doing here. This is ridiculous.

—Yeah, I agree —. Bucky added.

—See? Making progress already —. She waited a few seconds to see if either of you would like to talk but you and Bucky remained silent. Dr. Raynor sighed, if it was already difficult to deal with him alone, it would be twice as difficult to deal not only with Bucky but also with a copy of him as a woman. —It is my job to make sure you're okay. And yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it's the only way that I can see if you're getting over whatever's eating at you.

You huffed a laugh and Bucky rolled his eyes. Whatever's eating at you? What could possibly be eating at you? There was nothing that-

—So, why don't you both start by telling me what kind of relationship you had with Steve Rogers?

Your expression changed completely when you heard his name. Bucky looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, Sam's eyes also went to you as he tensed his back when Dr. Raynow brought Steve up out of nowhere. Bucky decided to start talking but you couldn't hear what he was saying, you could only focus on how tense your jaw was, the knot in your stomach, and all the anger you were feeling.

Just as it was a relief for Bucky to think and talk about Steve, it hurt you. There was never anything romantic about your friendship with Steve, it was purely based on your devotion to him and your mutual admiration and respect.

When you lost Bucky and Steve crashed into the ice, you had no reason to live but before your heart stopped beating, Howard Stark found you and injected you with the serum. And when you woke up there was only Steve, seventy years later and just as confused as you, living in a century that did not belong to you.

You were together during the whole process of readjusting to your new lives. For Steve, you joined a group of people who called themselves the Avengers and fought against the god of mischief in New York. For Steve, you were almost killed by a robot in Sokovia. For Steve, you fought the Winter Soldier. For Steve, you sided against Tony Stark, the son of the man who brought you back to life, and for Steve, you fought, lost, fought again, and won against Thanos.

They say there is no worse heartbreak than that caused by a friend and Steve Rogers stole a piece of your heart when he left.

—Thank you, James. What can you tell us about Steve? —Dr. Raynor asked you.

You shook your head, your eyes fixed on one spot. The feeling of betrayal when Steve didn't return within the five seconds set by Bruce still haunted you. —I will never forgive him.

Bucky shook his head as well, he turned to look at you. —You know, Dr. Raynor? I've met her for more than seventy years now and one thing that hasn't changed about her is how selfish she is.

—James, we are not here to make value judgments about the feelings experienced by the other person.

The condescending tone in Bucky's voice made you close your eyes and take a deep breath before you talked. —You were captured by HYDRA, tried to kill us, then went into cryogenic sleep and disappeared with the snap. I don't expect you to understand what I'm going through since you never lost Steve because you never had him.

—He was my best friend! —Bucky raised his tone and turned in his chair to look at you.

—You don't even remember a single thing of him before he became Captain America!

Sam called your name. That wasn't Bucky's fault.

—He left because that was the life he fought so many years for! That's the life Steve deserved!

—He was my best friend too! We were together all these years while you were killing people and I had to watch him go! —You did the same as him. That was the first time you looked at each other since the session started and you were yelling at each other. Sam didn't miss any part of the argument, he was with his arms crossed and paying attention to everything you were saying to each other. How could two people who had loved each other so much end up like this?

—Okay, that's enough —. The doctor stopped you before it went any further. You and Bucky rested your backs on the chair again, defeated, and your eyes focused on the therapist. —Since this isn't working, we're going to do an exercise. It's something I use with couples when they're trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna built together —. The doctor added. Bucky rolled his eyes and you closed yours while shaking your head.

—You are acting as if you were never a couple —Sam said.

—Back in 1940.

—Yeah, eighty-two years ago.

You both said at the same time.

—Come on, turn around, look at each other.

Both of you hesitated for a few seconds but finally turned to face each other. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, it was difficult to keep eye contact with him.

—The exercise is called Everytime I look at you and consists of saying something that you feel or see in the other person every time you look at them. Why don't you start?

As you looked at Bucky, you could see the young soldier, wearing his new uniform proudly and hanging a copy of his dog tag around your neck. Looking into Bucky's eyes you felt again the last kiss he gave you before falling from the train, you heard his last laugh before he was brainwashed by HYDRA, you could even feel the caress of his fingers on your skin before the vibranium covered one of his hands.

—Every time I look at you, you have that lost puppy look on your face, asking for people's sympathy. I can't even look at you because every time I do, your mere presence reminds me that Steve's no longer here and it makes me want to fucking die, and sometimes I wish-

Sam called your name and you stopped talking before you could finish the sentence. Bucky's eyes never left yours. You were saying all that to his face.

—Let her finish, Sam —. Dr. Raynor said.

There was a silence.

—And sometimes I wish you were gone instead of him.

As Bucky looked at you, he could see the young lady he fell in love with even though everything he remembered about her was gone. The sparkle in that girl's eyes could no longer be found in yours, but he couldn't forget how your eyes shone as he wrapped his arms around your waist to dance. Bucky did not forget the sound of your laughter when he told you that he would marry you after the war, even though he was totally serious.

—Every time I look at you I don't recognize you. You have changed for the worse and I'm not sure if I like this version of you. You are mean, you don't allow people to get close to you and you hide and say that it's Steve's fault for leaving. But let me just say...

Bucky could see how you dealt with sadness by turning it into anger, he knew it because he did the same thing. Your jaw tightened and you closed your fists so hard that your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. You didn't want him to say it, but at the same time, you couldn't wait to hear it.

—... that being a bitch isn't going to bring him back.

As soon as Bucky finished the sentence, you got up from the chair and left the room slamming the door. He didn't react to you leaving, he just sat in the chair asking himself the same question as Sam. How did you come to this? How could two people who had loved each other so much end up like this? Sam tried to go after you but he could not keep up with your super soldier speed so he went back to the police station with Bucky and gave him the same look of disappointment that Steve would have given him.

That same night someone knocked on your front door.

You thought it would be Sam because he had been calling you nonstop since you left and you had been ignoring him all day long but when you opened the door, you found Bucky instead.

He took a step closer to you to go inside your house and your hand connected firmly with his cheek. The skin on his face burned right where you had hit him and your body was blocking the doorway. He was just as angry as you were so he gave you a strong push on your shoulders. You managed to keep your balance and he managed to get inside the house and close the door behind him.

Bucky towered you with a challenging attitude, keeping eye contact while forcing you to take a few steps backward. You, despite being shorter than him, did not lower your head. Your breathing was heavy, the tension was too much, you wanted to hit him again and you wanted to say worse things to him than what you said in the therapy session.

When you raised your hand to slap him again, he grabbed your arm with his vibranium hand and squeezed hard enough for it to hurt but you did not give him the pleasure of expressing the pain. The tension was overwhelming. There were only two ways to solve this, either he would let go of your arm and start a fight that wouldn't end until both of you were on the floor exhausted and bleeding, or...

Your bodies collided as you pressed your lips together. Bucky held your face with both hands while his lips devoured yours as your hands pulled on the hem of his shirt. He lifted his arms so you could take it off and in that moment you took a few seconds to admire his well-defined abs. He leaned in for another kiss but you pushed him by his shoulder, strong enough for his back to hit against a wall of your house and crack it. Before he could complain, you connected your lips with his again.

Bucky's fingers closed around your neck as a response. Your mouth opened against his lips, trying to get the air that he was keeping from reaching your lungs and Bucky's tongue went pass your lips.

You took a big breath of air once he let go of your neck and he began to unbutton your jeans. He would never admit it but he made sure that you were okay and that he had not taken it too far, especially when your hands went to his shoulders to keep your balance due to the dizziness. And when Bucky thought he had control over you, your fingernails slid painfully from his shoulders to his abdomen and he groaned.

Bucky threw his head back against the wall once your finger sneaked into his jeans and wrapped around his cock. You moved your hand cruelly slow, he had his eyes closed as he bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. You ran your tongue along his collarbone until you reached his earlobe. —I fucking despise you —. You whispered in his ear. He let out a moan and immediately clenched his jaw again. You felt his hips thrust into your hand.

—Fucking same, doll —. Bucky muttered through gritted teeth.

He brought his hands to your ass and squeezed it as he helped you to wrap your legs around his body. Your lips met again as he walked you to the big wooden table in your living room where he helped you to lie down. Bucky pulled his jeans down enough to free his hard cock while you opened your legs to him. He noticed the wet spot on your panties and you noticed the red marks that your fingernails had carved on his chest. As he pulled your panties to the side, your fingers ran over those marks and Bucky hissed.

The head of his cock was more than enough to stretch you open. You repositioned yourself at the table, now sitting up on your elbows to watch as he pushed himself inside of you. You thought he would give you a few seconds to get used to the feeling, but he didn't stop until he was balls deep inside you.

—Now you take it. Make it up for that attitude —. You whined at his words and Bucky rested his forehead against yours while his hips thrusted into yours.

You encircled your legs around his waist and hooked your ankles over the swell of his ass while he kept slamming his hips into you. At that point you couldn't even think straight, he was hitting all the right spots to make your mind foggy. His pace remained fast and hard, and you thought about the serum running through your veins and how you both could keep up with that pace all night long.

Bucky tucked his head into your neck and whispered the filthiest words into your ear, his hands were on your thighs, squeezing your flesh lustfully, he pulled his dick all way out and then pushed in again until his balls were against your pussy. Your fingers tugged his brown hair at the root, getting moans from him because of your tight grip as it encouraged him to fuck you even harder. If that was how hating you felt, he wanted to hate you for all eternity.

When he heard you moaning and whimpering uncontrollably, when your legs fought to close and squeezed his body, when he felt your nails digging into the skin of his back, Bucky pushed your legs up, hooking your legs over his shoulders, and kept fucking you in that position until it became harder and harder for him to keep going because of the tightness of your pussy. You came screaming his name and spasming around him, Bucky came a few seconds later, with a deep groan that made his chest vibrate and emptying himself inside you.

The next morning, when his alarm went off, Bucky was alone in your bed. He took his time to take a shower and grab something from your kitchen for breakfast before he left. Bucky walked to his therapist's office, trying not to give much importance to what happened last night and especially trying not to think about all the horrible things you said to each other earlier that day in front of Sam and Dr. Raynor.

When he entered the office, Dr. Raynor was not alone. Bucky almost apologized and closed the door again, thinking he interrupted someone's session, but then you turned around in your chair and looked at him. He looked back at you, surprised, from the doorway.

You were already inside, now it was up to him to decide whether to go in with you. Bucky didn't have to think about it, he closed the door behind him and sat down in the chair next to you. You wanted to give yourselves a chance, for your sake, for Steve's sake, and for trying to get back what you two once had.

—Let's try again, shall we? —Dr. Raynor asked with a smile.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 3

I'm living for the love for this story!! Thank you everyone!

I'm sorry to say that any requests to be added to the tag list will be ignored. It's all full up! But! You can follow me and put on notifications. That seems to work for most people!

In this we have a lot of growing pains and the girls try everything they can think of to keep Eddie home.

Part 1 Part 2

~

The next couple of days were spent ironing out of the kinks and setting expectations. Like when Steve scolded Janice for pulling on Joan’s braids and she yelled back that she wasn’t the boss of her.

Both girls went running to their dad.

Eddie looked down at his two little sun spots. “I don’t know why you’re coming to me about this, if Steve saw Jannie pulling Joanie’s hair, then he had every right to call it out. Just like Chrissy, just your uncles. He is in charge while I’m gone, so you better get used to his authority. Both of you girls go sit on your time out chairs for five minutes.”

Both girls gasped in shock, but after an intense showdown, they did as they were told.

“Thanks for that,” Steve said with a huff. “There’s always a little bit of give and take for first couple of weeks, and you laying down the law will really help that.”

Eddie smiled up at him. “It’s just been a tough year for them both. They’re old enough to remember Ethan, but young enough that it’s all the good and none of the bad. So they don’t understand why he left. I’ve been talking to a couple of therapists that think once they’re a little older, they want to start seeing both girls.”

“Nothing quite as traumatic as abandonment issues from an early age,” Steve said with a nod.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Steve sat down on the sofa with a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. Only my parents did just enough to make sure I wasn’t taken away from them. Making sure their trips would only last long enough that it would be considered child abandonment and endangerment. Sending me gifts for my birthday and Christmas, but not being there.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Then as I got into high school, sending me money for groceries and gas. As well as a hefty allowance to make sure that I wouldn’t talk. ‘Let’ me throw lavish parties and then ground me when they found out. Only they would pack up and leave, knowing I’d ignore the grounding because they were gone. Just a bunch of stupid shit like that.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “In the Hall of Fame of shitty parents, that’s really up there, man.”

Steve let out a huff of bitter laughter. “I got the last laugh though. The second I turned eighteen and finished school, I told them I was running away with my best friend and joining the circus. Then I told them I was bisexual and never looked back.”

“So how was the circus?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Not as fun as you’d expect,” Steve conceded. “Robin and I didn’t have anything like skills to be a performer, and wasn’t experienced in running the booths and rides, so we were part of the put up and take down crew.”

“So how did the nanny thing come about?” Eddie asked, crossing his legs and leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I used to babysit these kids when I was younger,” Steve said, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, “and when the one’s dad died and left a hefty life insurance to his mom. She suddenly was overwhelmed and hired me to nanny for her.”

Eddie thought back to the resumé the agency had sent over. “Mrs. Henderson, right?”

“That’s the one,” Steve leaned back on the sofa. “Dustin was a good kid. Too smart and arrogant for his own good.”

“Then of course, Mrs. Henderson recommended me to her friends,” Steve said. “One of them said they would only hire me through an agency. My ex-girlfriend happened to work at a nanny agency while she was going to school and offered to put in a good word for me.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “That was nice of an ex. I don’t know if I have any exes that would do the same for me.”

Steve just shrugged. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms either, but I used to babysit her younger siblings and knew how good I was. Nancy Wheeler is nothing but logical. She knew I would be good at it.”

“I spoke to a Nancy earlier,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “She really went to bat for you.”

“That’s Nance for ya,” Steve huffed. “Tenacious to a fault. This is her last semester at college and then she’s going to go to Emerson to get her journalism degree. She wanted to get her generals out of the way so she wasn’t paying out the ass for them.”

Eddie smiled. “Looks like I really lucked out then.”

“I guess you did,” Steve said softly. “I did too. Having you here these last couple of days have really helped out. They are still going to have the worst meltdowns during that first week you’re gone, but knowing you’ve already set the boundary they’ll only butt against it instead crossing it.”

Eddie smirked. “They’ve chased off nannies before. It’s why I have a very specific list of do’s and don’t’s with anyone I hire.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Steve chuckled. “Normally, I’d put them to bed, but because it’s your last night with them, I’d suggest you do it.”

“Of course,” Eddie said softly. “Thank you for taking good care of them, Steve. I’m really grateful to be leaving them in such capable hands. I don’t want to go on this tour, not really. But I need a break. I love my girls, but with Ethan leaving it feels like he took away my right to chose how to live my life.”

Steve got up and moved to the desk and sat down on it half way. “But at least you have the money and the wherewithal to make sure they are taken care of. Every parent needs a break once in awhile. You’ll go out there make your fans happy and then when you come back, you’ll appreciate them all the more for leaving.”

Eddie looked up at him, then his eyes fluttered shut. He pursed his lips together and leaned his head back. He opened his eyes to look at him again. “You don’t think I’m being a bad parent?”

“It does you no good to burn yourself out,” Steve soothed. “It would do them more harm if you burned out and couldn’t take care of them anymore.”

“I love them so much,” Eddie said, his lower lip quivering. “But not having any help except Chrissy occasionally made it hard.” Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Steve pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Eddie let out a watery chuckle. “You didn’t have anyone close that could help you?”

Eddie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “My former bandmates kinda scattered all over the globe. Gareth in Wales where his family is from, Jeff in New York, and Brian in LA. My uncle, Wayne broke his leg just after Ethan left and he’s just barely moving around without a cane. I couldn’t make him watch two rambunctious four year olds.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. “A lot of the nannies we had kept trying to be their mother. One was even caught trying to teach Joanie to call her Mama.”

“That’s rough,” Steve murmured. “But I’m here to help you. I’m not going to try and replace you as their dad. Or even Ethan, really. I’m just an extra person you can rely on.”

“You don’t mind setting up the household staff do you?” Eddie asked, his voice still rough from the crying. He blew his nose and then threw the tissue away in a nearby garbage. “It’s just that I want people that will work well with you and not try to fight you on every little thing.”

Steve shook his head. “No I get it. Plus getting help for a place as big as this one, I’d need the help otherwise I’d wear myself out before you got home.”

Eddie chuckled. “Do you like the house? Some of the other nannies thought it was creepy.”

“Mr. Muns–” Steve began but Eddie cut him off.

“Call me Eddie,” he said softly. “Mr. Munson makes me feel old and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“All right, Eddie,” Steve murmured back, “I think it’s spooky in a fun way. It’s not creepy. It’s beautifully decorated. I’ve seen creepy. Like tiger and elephant heads mounted on the walls with fully stuffed birds and in one horrifying case a Tasmanian wolf.”

“Aren’t those extinct?” Eddie asked with a grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, moving to sit on on the desk all the way, to put some distance between them. Before he did something stupid like kiss his boss. “I made sure to report his taxidermy to the Feds on the way out.”

“Brutal.”

“Dude was creep and his wife wasn’t much better,” Steve said with a shrug. “I felt sorry for their kids. They didn’t deserve having parents like those.”

“What made you leave?” Eddie asked, honestly curious on how Steve could have gone through so many clients considering he didn’t seem very old.

Steve kicked his feet a little, careful not to kick Eddie. “They aged out of needing one. They were already pre-teens when I got hired. They basically only needed someone to pick them up from school and make them dinner before their parents came home.”

“How long were you with them?” Eddie asked, more to keep Steve there then any real curiosity he had. Yeah, he had been curious about what made him leave, but this was blatant flirting at this point.

Steve laughed. “What’s this, more interview?” he teased. “No, in all seriousness, it was about a year. Most of my clients only need me temporarily anyway. I’m pretty sure that for at least three of them, their friends or family got to them about me being a guy, because they hired a female nanny soon after.”

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie huffed. “I’m sorry that they kept doing that to you. If anyone says anything to you, send them my direction. I’ll set them straight.”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured. He checked his watch. “It’s about time for me to make dinner.”

Eddie nodded and watched him leave. Once Steve had closed the door to his office behind him, Eddie put his head in his hands. It was so hard to keep his hands to himself when Steve was that close.

He just hoped that the three months he was going to be gone would be enough to put out the fire in his gut for his new nanny for fuck’s sake. He needed to get laid, Jesus fucking Christ!

The rest of the night passed with relative ease. Steve made meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with corn on the side.

Night time went well, too. Both girls drifting off to sleep quickly.

Morning, though? That was what was fraught with difficulties and tantrums.

Joan refused to get dressed, flopping on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. Janice dumped her cereal on the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Joan threw herself at the door while Janice tried to hide Eddie’s shoes.

Eddie stared Janice right in the eye as he pulled out another pair of shoes out of his carry-on. And then another out of his suitcase. He put the shoes back in the suitcase, but pulled on the shoes from his carry-on. All while Janice stood there with her jaw on the floor.

Steve pulled Joan away from the door so Eddie could open it and both girls started crying. Eddie hugged and kissed each girl goodbye.

Steve picked up both girls and held them up to the window so they could wave goodbye as Eddie drove off.

He set them down and they both flopped on the floor like ragdolls. He let them lay there for awhile, even taking advantage of Joan not moving to get her dressed. He put his hands on his hips it was going to be a long week. A very long week.

~

Part 4 Part 5

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @ollieolive @themoonagainstmers @tartarusknight

[stevie-petey]

we thought love was something (we weren't meant to find)

﹂ season two of "come home"

as you approach a year since will's disappearance, things seem to be back to how they were. you still have jonathan and the boys, hawkins is boring again, and you and steve harrington aren't really friends. you convince yourself that it's fine, but time can't heal all wounds, and you sure as hell have your fair share of them. when will starts having episodes and your brother hides a literal monster from you, junior year becomes a lot more painful than it already was. (and because you can never win, steve gets dragged into it). (more complicated feelings arise). (as usual).

episode one: MADMAX - what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

episode two: trick or treat, freak - you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

episode three: the pollywog - you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.

episode four: will the wise - jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?

episode five: dig dug - you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

episode six: the spy - dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

episode seven: the mind flayer - jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

episode eight: the gate - you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.

⌑ set between seasons 2 and 3

﹂ episode nine: the fall - surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

⌑ status: FINISHED

⌑ season two title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

[fuctacles]

<<4 | 5 | 6>>

Eddie held back and was nice enough to give him an ice pack after. 

"Thank you," Steve murmurs, placing the frozen peas on his chin. He's not taking his eyes off Eddie, who's wired up and walking back and forth in the tiny kitchen. Steve is low-key expecting another hit. If he had his tail, it would be tucked between his legs. 

"Why?" Eddie finally asks, the first thing he says since the punch. But before he can get an answer, he follows with: "Does everyone else know?"

"Yes," Steve admits guiltily. "I didn't want to drop it on you right after the Upside Down, but the longer it took, the weirder it got, and I just..." he trails off with half a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs, sending him a glare while his strides pick up speed. It would look ridiculous, since it takes only three of his steps to walk through the kitchen, if it wasn't so serious. 

"You made it weirder alright. Why did you follow me around instead of hanging out like a normal human being?!" He throws his arms wildly around, almost hitting the fridge. "Or did you just want to keep tabs on me? Like a weird little dog-stalker?!"

"No!" Steve protests indignantly, but then falters. "Well, I— Kind of? But just to, you know, protect you."

Eddie finally stops. Which is not a good sign as far as Steve is concerned, but Eddie just stares at him. 

He recounts the run-ins they had with the local righteous mob. He reimagines them with Steve by his side instead, the human one, and there's no universe in which it doesn't end up with an escalation. People don't normally pick up fights with dogs, apparently. But...

"Was sleeping on my couch and eating my hot dogs also to protect me?"

Steve folds in on himself and Eddie can almost imagine his sad dog ears flopping down. 

"No, I just—"

Eddie's suddenly in his line of vision, squatting in front of him to peer into his face mockingly.

"Was it just for fun? Little doggy wanted belly rubs and treats? Make everyone look at me weird because I'm scratching Steve Harrington between his ears?" he scoffs. "And dude, I would do all of it, if I knew it was you. You were worried it would be too much for me after Vecna? I'm a nerd! I eat that shit up. Do you know how much better I'd feel knowing werewolves are real?!"

Steve is not even surprised at his outburst. He just shuffles his legs and corrects softly:

"Lykans."

Eddie jumps up, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, now you're gonna tell me?! You lost your naming privileges, man, you're a werewolf, period."

He leans against the cupboards behind him, foot tapping restlessly. But he was angry at so many things at once, that he didn't know what to grasp first.

"Why did you avoid me?"

"I didn't—"

"You did," Eddie interrupts him. "I never saw you around, only the dog. And then you started avoiding everyone else too. Why?"

Steve sighs, slipping the half-thawed pack of peas away from his face. His body slumps like any traces of fight have just left him.

"I guess it was easier. I could just walk around, keep an eye on everyone, and not... explain myself."

"Can't lie without vocal chords, huh?"

Steve sends him a tired look, and Eddie feels the tiniest of bits bad. He raises his hands placatingly. 

"I'm not your therapist. But I thought I was your friend."

"You are! Just..."

"Just not good enough to share the truth with?" Eddie offers.

Steve groans, this time unfolding to fall against the chair's backrest. 

"See, this is why I prefer shifting. I don't have to explain my thoughts to others, nothing is weird and unspoken, and everyone fucking loves me. They pet me and tell me nice things. But when I'm a human, I'm getting laughed at, dumped, used for rides, and have to stay alone in a big empty house."

Eddie just blinks at him, his anger slowly shifting into concern. 

"That's uh, a lot to unpack there," he says gently, pursing his lips in thought. "You know we've been worried about you, right? That we don't see you anymore. I mean, I didn't know at the time, but the kids knew something was going on with you."

Steve scoffs.

"Yeah, they noticed when they had to go beg Nancy for rides."

"Dude." Eddie frowns at him, both irritated and concerned. "I am so tempted to get your other cheek right now. Didn't Dustin call you to clear the air between us?"

"Yes, because you called him first," Steve reminds him. 

"Still, he could have left it for us to deal with on our own. But he cares, so he reached out. " Eddie sighs. "He wants us to be friends, but most of all, he wants you to open up; not to me, but to the rest of the party. So why are you holing yourself up, man? What's wrong?"

Steve doesn't move from his semi-open position, but he crosses his arms, and he's looking away at Wayne's cap collection, visible through the open space to his right. 

Eddie just looks at him, the worry in his stomach growing like a parasite. He decides that maybe this is enough for today. Enough feelings, talking, and confessions. That it is time to clear the air.

And by 'clear' he means 'cloud it with smoke'.

"Let's put a pin on that," he says and finally, Steve looks back at him, both worried and curious. "I think we both need to chill out and I still have that weed stored away for you. And a really bad horror from Gareth. The blood looks like ketchup, you're gonna love it."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86

[xxbottlecapx]

I saw someone talk about this idea (can’t find them now) so- 

Steve is walking down the street and he hears the jingling of a dog collar so he turns around to ask to pet their dog but it’s just Eddie. 

Steve might have a meltdown. He seriously might. This was the worst day he’s had in a long fucking time. 

The day started with a fucking seizure, of all things, when Steve hasn’t had one in months, so he decided to go to the emergency room to get checked up just in case. 

The doctors said he was fine, the scans and blood tests came back just as normal, but he ended up missing lunch so he didn’t get to have down time with his best friend Robin, and she was the biggest reason he could manage his anxiety and PTSD.

His mom called him when he was at the hospital, even though she disowned him ten years ago when he was forced out of the closet as bisexual. He thought she wanted to talk but apparently her husband (Steve’s father, unfortunately) was dying and wanted Steve to help with the hospital bills considering apparently their business went under, which Steve hadn’t known about because he hasn’t seen them in ten years. It led to a fight over the phone which triggered another seizure, so he’s had two in one day. Because of his history with seizures, the hospital decided to let him go, which he wasn’t entirely sure would be a good idea, but what else were they supposed to do? It’s not like Steve knew. Besides, he’s pretty sure they were understaffed and maybe they just didn’t have a place for him. They just gave him some painkillers, gave him a form so he wouldn’t have to go to work for a week, and let him go after giving him an IV. Steve would have argued about the work thing, but the doctor was able to convince him that having a bad seizure in front of a bunch of toddlers might be a bad idea, even if they’ve dealt with his smaller ones before. 

He decided he would go for a run because that always relaxes him before remembering that he shouldn’t go running after having two seizures, so he decided to go for a walk instead. Of course, this only makes things worse for himself. First, he forgets to take his dog Farrah with him on the walk, and then he realizes that he’s wearing a thick knitted yellow sweater in 86 degree heat, also he lost his glasses somehow? 

He must have still had some postictal confusion left because he very quickly got lost and then he couldn’t find wherever the fuck he put his phone, so he couldn’t call Robin to pick him up, and it’s not like his anxiety would let him walk up to some random person and ask. 

It was getting dark, so he wasn’t going to approach a woman, which was something Robin had to teach, and Steve was kind of scared of men, which might be stupid because he was a man, and also taller than most men, but anxiety is a bitch so it’s not like he could argue with it. 

His heart beating outside his chest, Steve realized he very well could have a third seizure, or a panic attack if he didn’t calm the fuck down, so he went to hide behind a alley which just so happened to be behind a bar. 

That was fine. 

The music was dampened by the concrete wall and sometimes silence made Steve’s existential dread even worse. He missed his dog. Farrah was a white teacup chihuahua and Pomeranian mix that Steve had adopted from a shelter he had been volunteering at. She kept getting bullied for her size even when they put her in with the other babies, and the shelter asked someone to foster her. It was a foster fail but Steve didn’t regret it. 

Steve tried to think of her as he sat down, working on the deep breathing his therapist had told him about. Of course, Steve sat on the floor and got beer and gunk on his jeans, but he was so tired that he was past caring. 

A migraine was coming on, all of his bones hurt, and he had white spots dancing in his vision. His hands were shaking. It’s very possible he had a small seizure when he was getting here and he didn’t remember it, that happened sometimes. He really hoped Robin had done okay at school without him. They taught a kindergarten class together. He really should have called to get her an aid but it had slipped his mind and she was going to be pissed. 

He would just stay on the floor until he felt better. Then he’d call and apologize. 

He did remember to feed Farrah and she had some pads on his living room so she would be okay. When he got home he would give her a lot of treats. Maybe he would make Robin cupcakes. 

Steve’s nerves picked up when he heard someone open a door behind him. Luckily for him, he had a switchblade in his pocket (he got it from Max, and who knows where she got it from) so he could use that in case of an emergency if anyone tried to accost him. Then again, this was a bar, maybe they’d just think he was drunk and leave him alone. 

The jingling of a dog tag gets Steve’s attention, and suddenly he thinks he might actually cry if he doesn’t get to pet this dog right now. 

The person’s heavy footsteps get closer, the dog chain making cute clinking sounds, and Steve readily looks up to ask, even though his face is already red with embarrassment, because what if the person says no?

But then he sees the man’s thick-heeled boots, and then his leather jacket with all the metal spikes on the shoulders, and Steve thinks no, he doesn’t have to ask to pet the guys dog, and then he chokes when he realizes there isn’t any fucking dog. The man is wearing a collar. 

Steve tries to quickly shove his head between his legs, curl into a ball so the man might not notice him, but whatever sound he makes is enough to draw the guy's attention. Fuck. 

“Hey, what were you going to say? I saw you try to ask something.” The guys crouches down in front of Steve. Steve assumes the guy is going to beat him up for looking at him weird or something, but the man’s voice, while deep, is actually very calm. He has a few more chains hanging from his black jeans, which were absolutely shredded, and the clinking noise still reminds Steve of Farrah but now he’s embarrassed about it. Is he wearing fishnets under his jeans? Oh my god, Robin is going to kill Steve in the morning if this guy doesn’t kill him first. 

Steve thinks about answering but his words get clogged in his throat. Sure, he didn’t ask to pet the guy, but he thought about it, and his face burns and Steve wishes he could jump into the dumpster a few feet away. 

He must look weird, because the guy, already crouching down to him, gets closer until their knees are touching. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, very gently putting a heavily ringed hand on Steve’s arm. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve sobbed, finally lifting his head to meet the guy's face. The dude’s hair is long, held up in a ponytail, which shows off the fact that he has an undercut with a pattern shaved on it. This man is absolutely terrifying, oh my God, how is Steve going to get out of this situation without dying? 

The guy's eyes widen at the words, but he keeps his movements slow as he places his hands against both of Steve’s trembling arms. Not constricting him, just pressing, just adding a bit of pressure. 

“You’re okay, I’m not angry.” The guy says soothingly, “You haven’t done anything. Why- why are you crying?” The guy’s voice goes high pitched, cracking a little. If Steve wasn’t so terrified, maybe he’d find it comforting. 

Steve doesn’t know what comes over him. He tells himself he’ll come up with something stupid, but his body hurts and lying takes a mental energy that Steve doesn’t have right now. His head pounds and the sound of his blood rushes past his ears. 

“Uh, I heard your collar and I thought you were a dog.” He whispered, putting his head between his knees again. “I was gonna ask to pet you. I’m so sorry.” He sounds absolutely mortified, which is good because he is. Why was he saying this? Steve was about to die and then Farrah would go back to the shelter and Robin would find another teacher and forget about him and no one would be able to teach Dustin to drive because he’s too annoying to keep a normal driving instructor- 

“You can pet me, if you want.” The guys interrupt Steve’s spiral. He moves so he’s sitting next to Steve, both their backs to the wall, his chains clinking all the while until their thighs are touching. Steve could briefly feel the dull spikes on the guys jacket pressing Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve’s brain completely blanks out. 

“…Uh-“ his hands are close to his chest, in fists, but mostly he’s just confused. Why is this guy being so nice to him? Steve thought he was a dog. He was never going to live this down. 

“I like petting.” The guy says, a small smirk on his face that brings charming wrinkles to his cheeks. Steve blushes. 

“Ca….” He can’t tell if the guy is serious, but the dude quickly pulls his hair out of his ponytail, shaking his head- like a dog. 

Maybe it’s just the seizure talking, but Steve tries to call his bluff. 

“Can I pet you?” Steve whispers, confusion and uncertainty lacing his shaking voice. 

“Yeah.” The dude replies calmly, tilting his head. 

Well, Steve realizes, now he kind of has to, doesn’t he? Shit. The guys hair looks really fucking soft. Steve’s allowed to touch it? 

Without knowing what else to do, Steve stiffly pats the guys on the head, which makes the guy laugh. Still, he doesn’t attempt to make Steve stop. In fact, he gets closer, until Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulder, playing with the hair on the crown of his head. Steve doesn’t really know what to do at first, but the dude smells really minty, but also like weed, and Steve doesn’t hate it as much as he thinks he should. He brushes his fingers through the guy's brown hair until there are no knots, letting his heart settle until the spots in his vision go away.

“So, what are you doing out here?” The guy asks quietly, letting Steve mess with his hair, his eyes are closed almost like he’s enjoying it. 

“I got lost.” Steve starts. The guy hums, so Steve continues. “I, uh, I had a few seizures this morning, and I got confused and got lost and I can’t find my phone or my glasses-“ Steve only realizes he’s rambling when the guy gives him a very concerned look. 

“Do I need to get you to a hospital?” He asks, clearly trying not to frighten Steve. 

“Oh? No, no, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Steve said, almost absently as he braided a small strand of the guy's hair. He tried to focus on that instead of the raging headache he has crawling up his spine. “I went to the emergency room already, this is normal, it happens a lot, it’s just been a bad day. I’m sorry.” 

He can feel the guy nod, his body relaxing slightly. His hand casually moves to touch Steve’s collar with the tips on his fingers, his short nails painted black. 

“Your glasses are on your shirt.” 

Steve looks down where his glasses were hanging off the collar of his sweater. He blanches. 

“Shit, thank you. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, hurriedly putting them on. His face goes hot, and he wants to sink into the floor. He might cry again, he was so embarrassed. 

“Can you call someone?” The guy asks, not bringing up the panic on Steve’s face, which Steve is mighty grateful for because bringing it up will make him cry, he thinks. 

Steve shakes his head, “I lost my phone. Sorry.” He chokes out. 

“Can I call someone?” The guy specifies. 

That’s a really good idea. Sure, it’s getting dark, but Robin always has time for him. She’s probably out of work and blowing up his phone trying to contact him. She might even have broken into Steve’s apartment by now. 

Steve closes his eyes, trying to push past the fog in his brain. The only thing it does is add pressure to the backs of his eyes. 

“I… I can’t remember any numbers right now, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from speaking. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The guy delicately pressed his palm to Steve’s shoulder, which draws attention to the fact that Steve’s breathing has sped up again. 

Steve gulps, blinking hard to stop himself from tearing up. He feels so fucking stupid. 

“Uh, with chronic seizures, there’s this thing, called a- uh, postictal state,” he tries to explain, voice way more breathy than he would like. He’s gripping maybe a bit too firmly to the frayed ends of the guy’s hair but he makes no move to stop him. “Which I like to say just means my brain hasn’t, hasn’t caught up to my body, like it’s, um, still processing.“

The guy nods, taking Steve’s rambling with grace. “Do you like champurrado?” He asks, Steve opens his mouth, closing it, opening it again. The guy nods, hurrying to explain himself. 

“We could go to my apartment and I could make you some. You look like you could eat. I made albondigas yesterday. When you can remember, we’ll call someone.” 

Steve really shouldn’t. This guy has already been too nice to him. Steve didn’t want to impose. Also, the guy was very kind, yeah, but Robin would kill him if he got hurt following this dude somewhere. But then Steve takes stock of the aches in his body. If he didn’t go with the guy, what would he do? Sit here all night? It was going to get cold and Steve’s anxiety wouldn’t let him sleep outside in the dark in an alleyway behind a bar playing very loud, aggressive metal music. 

Steve sighs, defeated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry.” He felt like he was doing something wrong. 

The guys smile brightly, almost blindingly so. He stands, chains jingling, and holds out a hand for Steve to take it. 

“You gotta stop saying sorry, man, you just had what, two seizures? It’s fi- holy shit.” 

The man’s hands were soft, which Steve wasn’t expecting, save for a few well placed calluses on his fingers. Steve tried not to think about it as he stood and wiped some gunk off his jeans, staring at the messy floor before figuring out something was wrong. He looked up, and the dude was staring up at Steve with his eyes wide, mouth agape. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve whispers, folding in on himself a little. What the fuck did he do now? 

The music rages on, but now it’s overwhelming. He feels static in his head. 

The guy’s heavily tattooed arms were held limply at his sides, “You- you’re really fucking tall.” He says unabashedly. 

Steve gulps, trying to shrink a little to make himself smaller, like that may alleviate the problem. Unfortunately, thought he did this often, It did mean he had terrible posture so his neck began to hurt. 

“Oh, I’m really sorry.” Steve wouldn’t look at him. 

“Why are you apologizing? It’s hot.” The guy says, Steve’s head shoots up to look at him as they stare at each other until the dude realizes what he just said. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” The guy puts his hands up, a nervous huff coming out past his lips as he was the one to start panicking now. 

Steve can’t help but let out a small laugh, covering his mouth with his hands. He’s never had someone say he’s hot in such a way, he couldn’t help but be a bit flattered.  Steve nods so the dude knows he isn’t upset by the random comment. Steve’s face was already red, and now he couldn’t even tell why. 

The guy’s eyes brighten, if that were possible. 

“Okay, let’s go. I’m Eddie.” He says, motioning for Steve to follow him. It takes a second for Steve to get the memo, with how slow his brain is working, so Eddie cautiously takes Steve’s arm in the way Steve watches men do in old movies. 

“I’m Steve. Thank you.” Steve, honest to God, giggled. Maybe he should be worrying about his dad and the fight he had with his mother, but he tries not to think about it. They’re not his problem, and he has better things to do. 

He does have to look down to see Eddie’s face when they’re not sitting, but that’s normal for Steve. He’s a few heads taller than most people he knows, and he works with kids so he’s obviously taller than them. He kind of just forgets, most of the time. No one else has mentioned it. His height was why he was so popular in high school before the seizures and anxiety messed it all up, though Steve is grateful he isn’t a bitch anymore. He’s only about a head and a half taller than Eddie, though. 

Eddie laughs, and it’s a cracky, beautiful sound. “You’re welcome, big boy.” 

Steve squints at Eddie as he leads him down the street. “Big boy?” He asks. As they get farther from the bar, there are less and less people out on the streets. No one jostles Steve, though, probably on account of the guy next to him, covered head to toe in spikes with black eye makeup. 

“Really? Do you not see how large you are?” Eddie continued, looking up at Steve like he was insane as he led him to the left, then the right. “It’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Me?” Steve wasn’t scary, this guy had it wrong. Sure, he was big, but nothing about him was frightening. Steve couldn’t remember the last person he met who actually looked afraid of him. None of his students ever were. 

“Yeah, you!” 

“I’m not scared.” Steve protested, though he was also smiling. “If anything, you’re scary.” 

Eddie throws his head back dramatically, covering his face with his curly hair. The bandana in his back pockets whips around.

“Why thank you.” Eddie grins, “Just so you know, flattery works on me.” He continued until they got to what appeared to be Eddie’s apartment building. Steve held on to his arm tighter. Eddie's dramatics calm him a little. 

“I have a dog, so you can pet a real one.” Eddie teases, unlocking the door with his free arm. “Her name is Ozzy, she’s a Doberman Great Dane mix, so I hope big dogs don’t scare you. I promise she’s not violent.” There’s something in his voice that tells Steve there’s something else. 

Steve smiles softly, “She sounds perfect.”

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 11

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: this is a direct result of the power of commenting/reblogging an author's work. someone said they were sad they didn't think i was going to finish this, and i realized i hadn't finished it, and i have some time for once, so i decided to be skibidi sigma. (gen alpha brainrot is starting to come out unironically. i work with middle schoolers. sorry.)

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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When the judge tells you, “Mrs. Y/N L/N-Barnes, you’re a free woman,” you let out a sob and feel yourself yanked into a firm chest that you’d recognize anywhere: Bucky.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re coming home.”

—

You would think that months working for the enemy, followed by months locked up in a cell, followed by a month of trial, that finally ended in your freedom and return to your family would bring you peace.

It doesn't.

Sure, finally sleeping in your own bed again and cuddling up next to your husband was amazing, hugging your daughter again was amazing, having privacy again was amazing... but freedom and its perks don't erase trauma. You get to lie in your own bed again and cuddle up next to your husband, but you can't sleep lest the nightmares come. You get to hug your daughter again, but you're always looking over your shoulder, worried someone will snatch her away from you again. You get to have privacy, but you never trust that you're truly alone.

After everything that has happened, you realize, you will never be able to go back to how things were. You're a different person than you were before you and Becca were taken. You're a murderer now, not a hero. When you look at your hands, all you see is blood, and when you look in the mirror, all you see is a shell of the woman you once were.

—

The first week back home as a free woman is spent making amends, as per the recommendation of your court-mandated therapist.

"Steve, I am so sorry for trying to kill you. I... I don't even know what to say. If it weren't for Bec, I wouldn't've, but-" You say, throat dry, palms sweaty as you wipe them on your pants.

"Hey, it's okay. I understand. I forgive you. If anyone is going to understand turning on a friend to protect someone they care about, it's me." Steve gives you a comforting smile, his tone so earnest. "Just ask Tony and Bucky."

You crack a smile.

After Steve, came Fury and Coulson, the late presidents' family, the families of the many politicians you killed... the list felt unending as you worked your way through it.

It takes months to track down the loved ones of all the people you hurt while with HYDRA, and by the time you're finished with it, you're more exhausted than when you were literally locked up and starved while in HYDRA's custody.

With a huff and a frown, you flop onto the couch. You fall over the arm of the couch and land on your back. Bucky laughs a little as he watches your dramatic display, walking over and leaning over you, resting his arms on the back of the couch.

"Tired?" He asks.

"Yeah. This making amends stuff is exhausting. Don't know how you do it." You flop an arm over your eyes.

"Slowly but surely," he says. "And it helps that I have a super hot and supportive wife to encourage me when it feels like too much." He reaches over the couch and pokes your stomach. You giggle and squirm.

"I don't know that the 'hot' part helps the amends," you say pointedly.

"Maybe, but it doesn't hurt."

You smirk but say nothing. Bucky watches for a moment.

"Well?" He asks finally.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to say it back?"

"Say what back?"

"You know."

"I don't know."

"That having a super hot and supportive husband makes making amends easier," he says in a matter-of-fact tone. You lift your arm off your face to look at him; he's wearing a shit-eating grin.

"I guess it does help a little," you concede.

He jumps up, throwing his arms in the air in victory. It's a little out of character for him, but it makes you laugh. He's been going out of his way to make you laugh, even when it includes him doing things that feel unnatural to him. Bucky Barnes wants his wife back, yes, but he is also aware that after everything that you went through, you won't be the same. Things won't go back to normal: there will just be a new normal. In the meantime, he just wants you to laugh a little while you figure out what your new normal is.

—

At some point, you fall asleep on the couch. Bucky leaves you there, afraid to move you lest you wake up. Ever since your captivity with Frost and HYDRA, you've been having nightmares that Bucky worries rival his. Any nightmare-free sleep you get is rare and needed.

Bucky had lain a blanket over you before putting Becca to bed and heading to bed himself, and even though he'd deny it, he was exhausted, too. So when your nightmares start, he doesn't wake up.

The nightmare starts out slow, and you toss and turn in your sleep, pitiful whimpers leaving your lips. Though, it doesn't take long for the nightmares to progress. Soon, you've tossed the blanket onto the floor and your whimpers have turned into screams. Bucky doesn't hear, but Becca does.

The 4 year old walks through the apartment, leaving her room quietly in search of her screaming mother. She's scared; she's never heard you scream like this. While locked up, she heard you scream in anger—she still remembers how you screamed and pulled the chains out of the wall—but she has never heard you scream in fear. Until now. Her mommy has always been the bravest person she knows, and that's even braver than her daddy—he said so himself.

Clutching her stuffed rabbit in one hand, she slowly walks into the living room where she can see you flailing and screaming on the couch.

"Mommy?" Becca calls out softly, nervously. When you don't answer, she tries again, moving closer still. "Mommy, wake up."

Again, you don't answer. You're still deeply asleep. Becca walks up to the couch and stands right beside you. Tentatively, she places the hand not holding her rabbit against your shoulder and shakes.

"Mommy, wake up."

When you still don't wake up, she shakes your shoulder a little harder and speaks up a little louder.

"Mommy, wake up! Mommy, it's just a dream. Just a bad dream. Wake up!" She gives a good push to your shoulder with the last 'wake up' and you sit up quickly, swinging your arms in a punch. You hit Becca, and she stumbles back, loses her balance, and falls, hitting her head against the coffee table.

You start to fully come to. You're looking around the room frantically, breathing heavily, and, slowly, you realize you're in a familiar place. Slowly, you recognize your living room. Slowly, you realize your daughter is bleeding on the floor.

You do a double take. Becca is sat against the coffee table, her bunny abandoned at her side. She's holding her head, but blood is still dripping out from the sides of her small hand, and she's bawling.

"M-m-mommy, I'm s-s-sorry!" She cries.

"Becca! Oh, no, no, no!" You quickly stumble off the couch, sitting on your knees as you hover your hands next to Becca's head, trying to assess the damage.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Mama's so sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to."

The commotion is loud enough that it wakes Bucky up and he slides into the room, panic staining his face.

"Y/N, what's going on? Are you okay? Is Becca okay?" He says worriedly, rushing over to you and kneeling beside you.

Noticing that you're not actually touching Becca or trying to help, he pushes you out of the way, pulling Becca's hand away from her forehead. He grimaces as he gently swipes his thumb across the cut, wiping the blood away. He lets out a relieved breath.

"It's not that bad. It's okay. You're okay, sweetheart," he tells Becca, kissing her forehead.

Bucky turns to see that you've backed yourself into the corner of the room, as far away from him and Becca as you could possibly get. You're holding your head in your hands, crying, and muttering "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to," over and over.

"Doll, she's okay. It's just a small cut. You didn't do anything wrong," Bucky reassures you, scooping Becca in his arms as he speaks. He was piecing together that you'd hurt her in a post-nightmare haze (he was familiar with them).

You just shake your head frantically.

—

Bucky gets Becca cleaned up and put back to bed. When he returns to the living room, you're still huddled in the corner, but you've stopped crying. Instead, you're staring blankly at the wall. He walks over.

"Doll? Hey." He gently tilts your chin towards him. "Bec's okay. She's not mad—a little rattled—but mostly worried about her mama. You didn't do anything wrong. You know that, right?"

You shake your head and he sighs.

"She's asking for you."

You finally make eye contact.

"No. I don't want to see her; I can't see her. You have to keep Becca away from me, Bucky." Each word that leaves your mouth is deadly serious. Bucky's mouth is slightly agape as he takes in your words.

"Sweetheart, she's okay. You can see her," he tries.

"No, I can't. I'm a danger to her, Bucky. I hurt my baby." Your voice cracks, and the pain in your voice breaks Bucky's heart.

"Promise me you will keep her away from me," you beg.

He nods reluctantly. "Okay."

You nod and turn your gaze back to the wall. It's silent for a few minutes.

You stand abruptly and Bucky quickly mirrors the action.

"What is it?" Bucky asks.

"I'm going to kill Frost," you say at the same time.

A beat. Bucky stares at you.

"I'm going to hunt that son of a bitch down, and I am going to make him pay for everything he has done to this family." You make direct eye contact with your husband. "Everything."

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[aww-canon-no]

Projects self all over Deaf Steve: 

He wants to be a writer, but after getting made fun of by his English teacher, he never tells anyone about this.

He was born Hard of Hearing with progressives loss.  By kindergarten he’s profoundly deaf, but crappy parents just stick him in mainstream school and hope for the best.  They live in a small town so resources are terrible and Steve scrapes by with his horrible bulky hearing aids until he just abandons them because being cool is better than sound anyway.

He learns ASL because he’s got one speech therapist who actually learned about the Deaf community, and it sits in his brain so much better, but it makes switching from ASL to English hard and everyone thinks he’s dumb.

His teachers have written him off.

He starts writing out of spite- learning to turn sentences into lyrical, poetic prose that feel like water rushing over smooth stones whenever he reads them.  But he doesn’t show anyone because when he goes over his work he still finds spots where he gets nouns and verbs swapped, and he drops articles and plurals are hard to remember, okay?  They just don’t make any SENSE in English sometimes.

And yeah his teachers were probably right, even if he never lets go of his petty dreams.

He gets a job working for his dad.  It’s all hearing people and it’s hard and the end of the day he’s exhausted in spite of the fact that it’s not hard labor.  He naps a lot.

He’s still close with the kids he used to babysit so on some days he goes to visit Mike’s house and annoy Nancy who pretends like she’s not happy to see him now that they’re just friends.  The kids have been MIA for a while and Steve finds out why.

He goes down to the basement and one of the prettiest men he’s ever laid eyes on is sitting on a makeshift throne with a book propped up in front of him.  Steve can’t see his lips so he can’t make out what he’s saying but whatever it is, he can tell the guy’s really into it by how the boys are really into it.

His name is Eddie and he talks with his whole body.

When he notices Steve, he also starts throwing in some signs which...

Steve will unpack that later.

Later, Dustin explains DnD to him.  It’s story telling, and it makes Steve feel things.  He’ll never admit to being interested.  Ever.

But he shows up more and Eddie invites him to sit and peek at his notes, and Steve starts making quiet suggestions behind the partition on his fingers once he realizes Eddie’s not fluent but at least conversational.  Eddie looks at Steve with big doe-eyes and an expression of wonder.

He personally invites Steve back.

Together they start planning a campaign and when it’s over--it lasts twenty-eight hours played over two weeks--Eddie cups his face and tells him that it was beautiful thanks to Steve.

At some point, they kiss, because they’re both so obviously in love there’s no point in hiding it anymore.

Eddie shows Steve his music, and Steve buys Eddie some really powerful ear plugs so Eddie can experience how Steve listens to it.

One day Steve suddenly feels like he can’t hide anymore so he shows up at Eddie’s house and dumps a thumb drive in his palm and tells him it’s stupid but he just wanted to share something.

Eddie disappears for two days, and Steve thinks yeah.  It was that bad.

Then Eddie appears with spicy chicken sandwiches in a greasy bag and throws Steve onto his bed and kisses the breath out of him before signing to him that his stories were the best things he’s ever read, and the world should probably know.

Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever actually pursue writing.  But he might write more for Eddie.