#still not really sure if i used the toaster oven for long enough

[miss-floral-thief]

red bean in pancake is ok, not as grainy as the donut i tried

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.”

It had become a call and response of sorts, a mantra that Eddie seemed to live by, if not only for you. Usually his words were followed up by a kiss, something sweet pressed to your cheek. Or he’d pull you into him by your belt loops, hands a little rough but his intentions always soft, his face dropping to the crook of your neck so he could nuzzle his nose there, like he didn’t really know how else he could possibly give you all the love he had for you.

So when your car inevitably gave up, the clutch grinding and the gears sticking, Eddie didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even ask, always feeling bad for expecting but it didn’t come to a surprise when he took your keys from you and dropped a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a little off kilter from the early morning sleep that still clung to him.

“Eddie,” you began, as usual. Soft and shy and guilt ridden. “You don’t have to. I know you’re busy right now.”

“Never too busy for my girl,” he responded, wincing a little as he dug out his chocolate pop-tart from the still too hot toaster. He’d learnt the hard way not to use a knife anymore. He tore off a piece of pastry, a sprinkle on his cheek, ruby red. “Besides, what do I tell you, huh? I know I don’t have to - I want to, sweetheart.”

He grinned when you scrunched your nose, embarrassment and too much love clinging to you, Eddie’s adoration too obvious when he leaned down to where you sat with your coffee. He let you brush away the sprinkle, grumbling about how he was saving it for later but his protests died off on his lips when you stole them for a kiss, your hands on his stubbly cheeks.

The boy was pink when you pulled back, pleased looking and much more awake. Then, Eddie winked as he spun your keys around own finger, the rest of his breakfast bitten between his teeth as he left for work, always a flurry bed mussed curls and silver chains.

When he didn’t arrive home by five, you knew exactly why. It wasn’t too long a walk to the garage, but you knew he’d scold you all the same. That’s why you had a Tupperware box full of pasta in your hands, a foil wrapped cookie on top, still warm from when you’d pulled it from the oven.

Sure enough, when you arrived at the almost empty garage, your boyfriend was the only one left working. You passed Wayne as you ducked under the half closed shutter, sharing the same fond look of faux annoyance that you pretended to both have for the younger Munson and you promised the man there was more pasta for him at home.

Eddie didn’t see you approach, too busy with half of his body under the hood of your car, poking and prodding it with tools you didn’t know the name of. You made sure to make enough noise before you rested a hand on the small of his back, fingers skating over the bare strip of skin left exposed between his shirt and jeans.

His smile was too much when he appeared from the car, always happy to see you. And like you thought he would, despite his grin and the way his eyes lit up, he grumbled:

“What’re you doin walkin’ half way across town on your own, huh?”

You rolled your eyes even if you didn’t mean it, your expression still fond and you pushed his dinner to his chest. He accepted the food with a happy hum, peeking into the container to eye it appreciatively.

“It’s a twenty minute walk, handsome,” you replied. “And it’s very much still light out.” You smiled at his worry because the evening behind you was barely beginning, the summer sun still high enough in the sky to keep the sidewalks golden, the warmth lingering.

Eddie grumbled again, no real heat behind it as he leaned in for a kiss, careful not to put his dirty hands on you. “Still. You’re too pretty to walkin’ around alone.” Another kiss, this one softer, longer. “Thanks for dinner, sweetheart.”

You beamed, happy to have helped. “Least I can do since you’re fixing my car.” You frowned at the vehicle like it had offended you. “How’s it looking?”

“She’ll live,” Eddie sighed dramatically, giving the roof a pat. “If you remember to change her oil, that is.”

Your cheeks burned.

“But I’ve sorted the clutch, so that shouldn’t stick anymore and there’s a part needed for the gearbox, but I’ve got that on order,” the boy bit into his cookie, desperate for sugar. He moaned, a sinful noise that was meant for both you and the chocolate. “Hopefully it’ll be here tomorrow so I’ll do one more late night, get this hunka’ junk back on the road for you in no time.”

You knew it was a fruitless effort to ask Eddie to let you pay in anyway. Hell, Wayne would shut you down just as hard. Eddie didn’t want you paying for any of his hourly rates, overtime or not. And as he’d told you before, costs for parts could get lost sometimes, receipts slipping down the backs of desks, never to be seen again.

So you smiled at him instead, soft and sweet and warm like the summer. You didn’t mind the oil stains on his shirt as you leaned in, hands against his torso, feeling the faint lines of muscles and soft skin there.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his lips, stretching up on your toes to bump your nose against his. A kiss, tasting like chocolate chips, lingering and lazy. “I love you.”

Eddie went shy like he’d never heard you say the words before. Maybe you didn’t say them enough, maybe you needed to remind him hourly, especially if it got him looking at you like that, eyes all wide and soft and awe filled.

He pecked your lips, your cheek, your jaw, nose pushing at the space under your ear as he told you the same. “I love you too, pretty.”

You didn’t need to hear it back, as nice as the words sounded on his lips. Eddie showed you how much he loved you every single day.

[steddieas-shegoes]

headcanon- steve secretly being insanely good at something, maybe chess or something similarly associated with intelligence. when everyone finds out they are surprised and doubtful leading steve to have the realization "oh. you guys genuinely think I'm stupid."

Steve loved seeing how things worked, he had since he was too young to actually figure things out by himself.

He got caught pulling apart his dad’s office calculator when he was nine, insisted he could put it back together, and did.

It took him a week, but he did it.

Then it was the house phone.

Then his desk lamp.

The toaster.

He always got them back together and working, but his parents weren’t very pleased if they caught him in the process.

Still, he loved the feeling of understanding how certain wires connecting meant something would light up or how one color wire would make something produce a number and another would produce power.

He continued doing it with random objects for years.

The concussions made it harder, his vision going blurry if he focused a little too long on a small part of the technology, his frustration making it even worse.

When Eddie found out, he gave him an old amp that wasn’t working anymore, said it probably would never work again but he could take a look inside.

Steve got it working in two days.

Wayne gave him their VHS player when it stopped rewinding, didn’t want to have to buy a new one even if they did have the money for it now. He had it fixed in four hours.

The oven in the new Munson home randomly stopped working, so of course Steve was called.

He came during Hellfire, ignoring the strange looks as he waved and made his way straight to kitchen.

He got to work, humming to himself as he made sure electricity was cut off from it, that there was no gas hookup anywhere, and pulled it from the wall.

The wiring inside was relatively straightforward, and he saw the problem almost immediately.

A loose wire connecting from the heat source to the controls. Easy fusing. Done.

He tested to make sure it was fixed, and ten minutes later, he was calling Wayne at work on the house phone to let him know it was fixed.

When he turned around, Dustin and Lucas were standing in the doorway, mouths open.

“You’ll catch flies like that. You know Eddie leaves the windows open all the time.”

“You fixed the oven?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“By yourself? Like the inside of it?”

“Yeah?”

“How? That’s so many wires and stuff.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“That’s like, electrical engineering shit.”

Steve realized what was happening just as everyone else walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. You guys don’t think I’m smart enough.”

He felt like he hit a brick wall.

“What’s going on?” Eddie came to stand next to Steve, arm wrapping around his waist.

“We didn’t know Steve was smart.”

The words were unintentionally harsh, but Steve and Eddie flinched anyway.

“Steve’s incredibly smart. He fixes all kinds of things.”

“Eds, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. They know better than to make assumptions about someone based on grades in school or how they understand certain things.”

Steve shrunk into Eddie’s side, doing his best to hide his face while he held back tears.

“You can all apologize or you can leave.”

There was silence for a moment and Steve was almost convinced that they’d all left.

He turned his head to see everyone staring at him.

“We’re sorry, Steve. Really. Eddie’s right. We shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t super smart just because you didn’t do well in school or don’t understand us when we ramble.”

Will was always a good kid, maybe his favorite at the moment.

“‘S okay guys.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened on his waist for a moment.

“So do you fix all kinds of stuff or just appliances?”

“I like to take stuff apart and put it back together. Sometimes I just end up fixing something along the way.”

“So you could look at my walkie?” Max piped up. “It keeps going to static in the middle of me talking.”

“Sure. Probably just a disconnected wire between the speaker and the button.”

Max beamed back at him, not just happy he would try to fix it, but proud.

Everyone started asking if he could fix things they had, surprised when he agreed to it all.

They filtered back out to the dining room area where they played, except for Dustin.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re stupid or anything. I know you’re not stupid. I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have been; you’re always finding the crossed wires with us and fixing those.”

Steve pulled him into a hug.

“People aren’t nearly as easy as electronics, dude.”

“Yeah, but you make it look that way.”

Steve quickly became the group’s engineer, always fixing what was broken, whether it was a flashlight or a bad day. He was pretty good at putting things and people back together.

[2braincellslz]

Who?

Ship : Eddie Brock x venom

Desc: Eddie trys to explain how his and Venoms relationship is. How it works. So on and so on

Warning: confusion but not homophobia

Eddie had been dreading this day. Whether it be for better or worse, he still pushed it back as far as he could. Whenever Venom would bring it up it would always be a ¨later¨ or ¨im busy¨ or ¨not now¨

Eddie.

¨ Jesus, Venom. You scared the crap out of me.¨

You are nervous.

¨Yeah, well, it's not every day you tell your ex girlfriend that you are dating your parasite.¨

Parasite?

Eddie just rolled his eyes, pulling out the tray of tater tots from the toaster oven. Venom formed off of Eddie's shoulder to devour the tots. Eddie knew Venom would be right back to asking questions after he was done eating but the quiet was nice.

Anne was coming over soon, Dan was with her. Eddie had cleaned up the apartment the day before, not really wanting to hear Anne scold him for letting Venom destroy the place. 

Eddie was sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table.

There is no need to be worried, Eddie.

¨i mean, there's a little bit of a need.¨

Venom forms one Eddies shoulder again.

¨she will not judge us.¨

¨she might.¨

¨you are being dumb, eddie.¨

¨wow, that makes me feel so much better.¨

¨is that sarcasm?¨

¨yes. Its sarcasm.¨

Venom made a humming sound like he was pleased with himself before sinking away. Eddie loved Venom, that's why he was putting up with all of this, but sometimes Venom could be a little much for Eddie. Especially times like this when Eddie was moments away from a panic attack. 

Eddie had to prepare himself, metaly. He had a feeling that Dan would accept it as is. As long as it keeps Eddie happy and healthy. Seems like it should be Dans catchphrase. He also had a feeling Anne wouldnt understand. He had a feeling she would scold him like some kind of child. She had done it before. But he also felt like she knew it was coming. After the whole ordeal with the spaceship and Venom leaving Eddie, he found out that it was Venom's idea to kiss Eddie. Who knows.

Honestly, Eddie felt a little guilty. ´a little´, he felt really guilty. Not only for what he has done, with anne´s job, but also for the fact that Anne and Dan feel like they have to take care of and check on eddie. Sure, he wasn't mentally great, but it should be his ex-fiance and ex-fiance´ s now fiance's problem. 

Anne and Dan would go out of their way to make sure Eddie and Venom were ok. Dan would do weekly check ups to make sure Eddie's body was working ok with Venom. Anne would stop by every once in a while to make sure Eddie had enough food and wasn't living in a pigsty. Sometimes, they would invite Eddie out to a really fancy restaurant. Most of the time Eddie would deny, not wanting to be a burden, but the one time he did go he had a great time. Now, Eddie didn't know much about break ups with finances but he did know a lot about girlfriends. Usually they wouldn't talk to Eddie. Usually they would distance themselves. Usually, they wouldn't check on Eddie to make sure his mental health isn't destroying him from the inside out. But, usually, Eddie didn't have an alien in him and had to deal with a whole corrupted organization with an Ex. 

Eddie had started pacing back and forth in his apartment by the door. Anne and Dan would be there any second. What ifs´ filled his brain as he chewed on his thumb nail.

Eddie jumped at the tapping at the door. There was no going back now.

They are here, Eddie. 

¨i know, Venom.¨

Eddie pulled open the door to be met with the pair that he had been dreading to see sense that morning. 

¨Eddie! You look great.¨ Anne smiled, kinda awkwardly.

¨oh, that you. I've been trying the skin care you told me about.¨

No, you haven't.

Eddie internally rolled his eyes.

¨ May we come in?¨ Dan asked with his usually happy smile.

¨yes yes, please.¨

Dan and Anne walked in. Anne shed his coat and placed it on a hook.

¨You said that you had something to talk about? Is everything alright?Anne asked, following Eddie to the old couch and sitting down next to Dan with Eddie sitting in the single arm chair. 

¨Yes, everything is fine. Its about Venom.¨ eddie began to figest, messing with one of the beads on his bracelet. 

¨Venom? Did he run off again?¨ Dan asked this time, his tone filled with a doctor like worry. 

¨No, we are sticking with Eddie.¨ eddie smiled slightly, feeling a little more clamed out not that he wasnt as alone as he was a few minutes ago.

¨so, what did you want to talk about?¨ annes eyebrows were furrowed together.

¨um… well, me and Venom are uh…¨ jesus, how could he say this? What words could he maybe scrape together so this wouldnt be as weird. 

¨Me and Eddie are now boyfrieds¨ 

¨yeah…¨ Eddie agreed.

Dan, like Eddie thought, didnt really have any extreme reaction. To him it seemed like the logical move. If Eddie loved Venom and Venom loved Eddie then, yeah, that makes sense. I mean, if Eddie is loving on Venom he is producing the same chemical Venom craves and Eddie could use someone to love him.

Anne on the other hand was more then confused. Her eyebrows furrowed together. How would something like that work? Venom is inside Eddie and exect for the times Venom formed on his shoulder, they where never really around each other. 

¨i uh… how dose that work?¨

¨how dose what work?¨ eddie felt Venom form around his hand. 

¨dating… like, you dont really see eachother?¨

¨we talk to eachother a lot, we talk and we eat together, and we watch movies together. Its just like a normal relationship but hes a alien.¨

Anne just looked more confused. She looked over to Dan, almost like she was confirming that she wasnt going crazy.

¨like a long distance relationship. Except Eddie and Venom can see each other whenever they want.¨ Dan explained.

¨and do you two go on dates or…¨

¨eddie took us on a walk the other day. We went to a seafood restaurant too.¨

¨well… i mean its not really my place to pry… whatever make you guys happy.¨ Anne sighed.

¨exactly. Whatever makes you two happy.¨ Dan smiled.

Eddie didnt like the sudden silence that layed across the room. He slightly prayed that venom would do something.

¨movie?¨ 

[shiftycryptid]

Recipe: The Greatest Rhubarb Cake in the World

Ingredients:

All-Purpose Flour – 1 cup

Brown Sugar – 5/8 cup (you always halve the recipe because you don’t have a 9x13” pan)

Baking Soda – ½ teaspoon

Salt – ¼ teaspoon

1 Egg (last one of the week, taken from today’s breakfast), beaten

Sour Cream – ½ cup

Rhubarb – Five bucks from the Farmer’s Markets’ worth, with the caveat being that I have no idea if that’s a good deal or not, washed and diced*

*Tip: when you take the rhubarb out of the fridge, take a moment to try to recall how many weeks ago it was that you bought it, and briefly consider looking up how to tell if rhubarb’s gone bad, but ultimately decide against it because it looks and smells fine enough. Once it’s baked into a cake, no-one will be able to tell that it went a little squishy.

Directions:

Step 1: Preheat the oven to 350degrees. Realize that you have too much rhubarb. You always just use whatever you’ve got, and it usually works out to a half-cup more than the scaled-down recipe suggests, but that’s fine, you like it extra rhubarb-y. You could always freeze some for later, but you find the texture always turns out a little weird when you use frozen vs. fresh. Besides, there’s not enough for a whole other cake anyway.

Step 2: Revise the scale of the recipe. Bring it up to 2/3 of the original instead of just half. This invites its own problems, though, because you now need another 1/3 of an egg. The only other egg in the kitchen is in a 10” cast-iron skillet on the top-left burner of the stove, its split yolk already turning pale yellow. Look up egg substitutes on your phone. Find a listacle on a cooking blog that is mostly filled with things you don’t have, but two entries catch your attention.

The First: vinegar and baking soda, two things that you do have, though a lack of chemical reaction from the baking soda would confirm that you’ve had that box in your fridge for way to long,

And the Second: Applesauce.

Step 3: Okay. You can make this work. Now, you don’t have any applesauce on hand, but you do have a lot of rhubarb. Now, you’re pretty sure you have to boil the apples to make apple sauce and you don’t really have that kind of time, but applesauce is basically just liquefied apples with a bit of extra fruit pulp. Use the weird little analog food-processor that you got at the liquidation warehouse to shred the extra rhubarb into a sort of paste. Okay, this might work.

Step 3.1: Your bagel is finished in the toaster, slather on the last 6th of cream-cheese and make a little sandwich with the fried egg. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until now – you forgot dinner last night – but you can’t get too greedy. Take a bite whenever you have a spare moment.

Step 4: Mix the flour (now 1 1/3 cup), sugar (now 5/6 cup), baking soda (now 2/3 teaspoon) and salt (now 1/3 teaspoon) in a large bowl. Make sure to break apart any clumps with a fork, and there will be a lot of them. You’ve had this same bag of brown sugar for how long, exactly? At least you had the good sense to soak that little clay teddy-bear and stick it in there overnight.

Step 5: Mix in the egg (still 1 egg), sour cream (now 2/3 cup), and rhubarb pulp (1 tablespoon) until crumbly. It’ll end up looking more like a dough than a cake batter. At some point it’ll become clear that the wooden spoon you’re using just isn’t going to cut it. Take an extra-big bite from your bagel – you’ll need all the extra energy you can get, and it’ll be a while before your hands are clean. Stick your hands right in there, you filthy animal.

Step 6: Realize there still isn’t enough moisture. Add a 1-2 tablespoons of water.

Step 7: It still doesn’t feel quite right. Throw in the rest of the rhubarb pulp (approx. 3-4 tablespoons)

Step 8: Fold in the diced rhubarb. The texture doesn’t seem too bad, and it tastes decent as well. Eat the last couple bites of your bagel. It’ll be cold by now.

Step 9: Butter the cake pan since you haven’t already, and pour the dough/batter into it. Bake for 45 minutes and check with a toothpick. It comes out clean but you still don’t quite trust it. Give it another five in the oven. Cover with a dishtowel.

Step 10: Remember you’re meeting a friend to go on a hike soon. Message them and say you might be a little late. It’s okay though, they slept in anyway. Invite them over for cake afterwards.

Serve slightly warm, with chiselled slivers of vanilla ice cream and good company.

[joytraveler]

21. Blasting Machine

The title comes up from the bottom of the screen in huge letters, and explodes to bits as soon as Start is pressed.

"Oops I'll clean that up, s'fine"

aroseahorseboy: good going! think you can cause any more damage in ten seconds?!

"I just tapped it! Some shoddy construction on this thing, I'll tell you what"

Bee52: You gon tap dat logo or what

The game is a top-down exploration game, like the original Zelda but with a pickaxe instead of a sword. The first screen is dominated by a huge machine, some sort of giant smelter? It looks like you can put things into it via a conveyor belt, but Bea doesn't have any items yet.

"WITH MY FACTORY. I CAN MAKE ERASERS. THERE ARE MANY THINGS THAT NEED TO BE ERASED."

berd_snurglar: bea don't do that voice again ever ok thx DueyDecimal: Little Queen Bea is a horrifying thought No offense to Bea!

Bea searches around, smashing rocks with the pickaxe for hunks of ore, and often just picking up junk on the side. Lots of old appliances, enough that she has no room in her inventory for the busted TV set when she finds it!

"Ohohohoh, I'm coming back for you baby! I think I know where this is going and the kid in me is real excited to blow things up!"

HNV: Pickaxe? Collecting and scavenging? Did someone invent Minecraft back in the 80s and now Notch owes them his fortune? Llord_Kuruku: if yes: good if no: we need a yes because that would be good

Even with the inventory full, Bea can still inspect things, and there's plenty of appliances left. Surprisingly, all of them have their name brands intact: Instant Pot, Sunbeam toaster oven, Whirlpool washer/dryer.

Syrupentine: This game reminds me of the Sears Wish Book for some reason

When she returns to the machine, sure enough, it's time to start blasting! You get a close up of each object as it's sent down to the blasting chamber to be hit with a beam of heat! The ray intensifies and the player is treated to a spectacular exploding (or melting) of pixels!

"WOOOOO, BLASTING MACHIIIINE!" Bea kicks up her legs, then scrambles as she almost knocks down her setup

"Is this all you do? I'd be pretty content about that actually"

DueyDecimal: It's very elaborage for a game where you just blow up old stuff! aroseahorseboy: what about those ore chunks you collected, can you blast those, or trade them for something?

"Looks like there might be some recipes? Not recipes, blueprints. Nothing I can do yet, but- oh." Blasting some objects yields bits of metal she can collect again. "all right, and it looks like I can upgrade the machine too! I dunno what bigger things I need to be blasting?"

TaichouSenseiKun: Blast your neighbor's car into several bicycles. It will be impossible to ride them all!

Bea's on her way back to get the TV set when something slithers across the screen quickly. "Whoo, okay, anyone see that? I am now worrying"

Syrupentine: We got so used to it being a sandbox game we forgot that there might be a plot!!

"Maybe if we don't move the plot won't be able to get us.." She warily walks to some bushes where the thing went and hid..

aroseahorseboy: please be a cute harmless friend please please please

[acquired GARTER SNAKE]

"Our first party member!"

Klickitat_Street: Oh, it’s an item. IT’S AN ITEM??

"Why is it an...........................Oh, you're not serious."

HNV: Deeply Disturbed Child Simulator 2015

Indeed, you can catch frogs down near the river, a bird if you're fast enough when it lands. A cat wanders about on one of the further screens but Bea just goes for the TV set.

"This is really, really kind of not okay with me?" She giggles painfully as she makes her way back to the machine. "Can I just keep them in my inventory and we can ignore the implications.."

aroseahorseboy: this is a long shot but maybe you’re supposed to fuse them with the ore chunks to make cyborgs or something I HOPE

"all right, let's.. let's try this one.." Bea groans. "Snake plus Three iron ingots.. I really hope this isn't gonna be that bad"

aroseahorseboy is just barely peeking through his fins to watch TaichouSenseiKun forces aro's fins apart aroseahorseboy has sunglasses on underneath HAH TaichouSenseiKun pulls them off aroseahorseboy: Ah. I see my plan has hit a snag HNV: I couldn’t even play Pikmin, what is with these games where you’re forced to harm little animals?

There's a tense, disturbing moment as the snake begins to rush around the blast chamber.. but the blast is just a big bright flash.

[Made SNAKE CHAIN lv.1!]

The new weapon is a scaly looking length of chain with a fanged tip. It can be used as both a whip and a grappling hook! "Whoah.. Oh this is kind of neat is it wrong I feel that way? Is this how it feels to be Dr. Robotnik?"

Glockroach: yeah cool but its still dead. I think? Syrupentine: It hisses when you swing it? I’m hoping that means it’s still alive... Baconnaise: Bea you did this you take good care of that snake chain try a bird next, everyone hates birds SugaGlydah: ;n; I like birbs but i get they're not for everybody Glockroach: Thank god, Sugar is here. Now run. SugaGlydah: why what- OH aroseahorseboy: that’s what my older relatives all want to do with my bird “that’s no pet that’s DINNER, guffaw haw haw” having them threaten to turn it into a gun or something would be better!

"Like this?" BLAST!

[Made CROW BAR lv. 1!]

"Oh, it's a tool, I guess. And a bad pun. Well, who could resist?"

DueyDecimal: I bet if you put them together it becomes a NUNCHUCKATRICE! HNV: So are you making weapons just to stockpile, or is there something you can do with them?

Two frogs can make a pair of boots, though, that let you hop over small gaps. And the TV, broken down, can be remade into a set of body armor! "I guess that's a good question, we should go back to see what we can do now!"

All around the machine are barriers that Bea can now overcome with her new tools: the Crow Bar lets her open up a boarded-up door in a decrepit house, and there’s a crevice west of this screen that can be jumped with the frog boots.

When the door is opened, monsters start to stream out— gray zombies with broken TVs for heads!

SugaGlydah also screms because good lord Baconnaise: That was some real terror right there Bea HNV: Watch! Yourself! Don’t fall off of the shelf!

"I'm, I'm-" She runs away as quickly as she can to the point she can hit them with the snake chain.

It’s not a strong weapon at all; one of them goes down after five hits, but there’s still six crowding around her!

DueyDecimal: What kind of animal can she turn into a shotgun?? Glockroach: Just smash two normal guns together, boom, shotgun

"Actually my pickaxe is better agains them than anything, oddly. However I am going to be dead soon I should probably flee"

HNV: Catch a bird, birdshotgun

One of the zombies gets a little running start and dashes at Bea's character, tackling him to the ground!

SugaGlydah: D: Baconnaise: Well crap Maybe they just want a hug Bee52: Dogpile on Bea! That's Dog + Atomic pile + Bee

Three more zombies launch themselves into the pile, and Bea's character is now being carried by the four of them-- not back into the house, but toward the spawning area, where the machine is located.

"HEYYY everyone! No hard feelings, right?? I mean how could I have known I was blastin' one of your heads before, ya know, we all make mistakes and if we fry we can never correct 'em!"

Baconnaise: I think maybe you were supposed to put the TV on your head to disguise yourself? Just a thought aroseahorseboy: wow this is Sierra Game brutal

Back at the Blasting Machine (as one would assume it's called), the zombies hold Bea's character in the air as one of them rummages through the junk heaps and finds yet another TV; then they load the player character and the TV onto the conveyor belt.

DueyDecimal: ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!

"Y'ever been really impressed by something and also hated it? HAAAAALP!!!" She's been jamming on buttons all this time, but it seems to just be a cutscene. "We can reset now right? All I did was make some hapless animals into implements of destruction, is that really a crime?"

burd_snerglar: i mean it depends on the state or province aroseahorseboy: if this is trying to make a point against body modification then I don’t appreciate it. if it’s making a point against having a broken TV for a head though... well i guess i have no argument there. Glockroach: Speak for yourself, kiddo. I still get three channels

The Machine activates, and Bea's character pops out as another grey-skinned zombie... and shuffles off with the rest.

There's no 'game over' screen, though; the game simply starts again, with a new character sprite entering the junkyard! This one seems to be a female character, or at least has twin ponytails.

"This has been really. Hm. It's really BEEN, hasn't it? It sure has been here and existed for us to see it. I hope. And I think it deserves a whole nother session to itself because it looks like there's a lot there, but DAMN."

aroseahorseboy: O!~! I get it i thought it would be a shooting game but it's BLASTING as in a BLAST FURNACE HNV: well, you know what they always say he who dealt it, smelts it

>Bea has left the room.

SugaGlydah: Bea wait! Glockroach: she's just going to take a shot I think HNV: I’d apologize but that’s kind of an accomplishment on my part

aroseahorseboy: dude I fcuking PITY whatever comes next, blasting machine rips

[illidesence]

Cooking, with a Twst

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Summary:

How well I think Twst characters can cook/What it would be like Cooking with them PT.1 Dorm-Leader Edition!!

Fluff

A/n: This is all for fun, if some information is inaccurate it wasn’t intentional!

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Being completely honest, I don’t think he can cook very well

Maybe a couple pastries from watching/talking to Trey, but other than that probably not much else

Riddle TRYS to help but kept getting the measurements wrong

^^ the first time you two tried cooking together without Trey’s assistance, he hadn’t put enough water in the dish and burnt it bad enough the sprinklers went off

Besides, he prefers to watch people cook than actually do so

He watches British Bake-Off

Overall 2/10

This man can COOK

Well, meat dishes that is

I’d like to think he wouldn’t make Ruggie get him food when Cheka is around, instead he cooks for himself and Cheka

You and Him tend to argue about adding vegetables to the dish

^^ you end up having to make the vegetables while he makes the rest, but he’ll eat around the vegetables and give them to Cheka

He doesn’t cook very often though, so don’t get excited

Overall 8/10

He is AMAZING at making fried food, but don’t expect it too often

After all, he does have a reputation, so most times it’ll be healthy, like a salad or something

He won’t force you to eat the same things as him, but would prefer if you did

Back on track, I think he has tried AT LEAST once to make food using potions, and you unfortunately are his guinea pig

This was the first time in a LONG time he had messed up a potion, aka you were in the infirmary for a few hours

Overall 4.5/10

Do you like having a kitchen? No? Perfect!

Your poor kitchen will be a mess or in flames within 10 minutes

Since he’s mostly had everything cooked FOR him his whole life, I don’t believe he has much of any cooking experience

Much like Riddle, he m i g h t be able to cook a few things from watching Jamil or cooks at home

Kalim I love you, but you’re banned from the kitchen. Or Jamil is supervising

Overall 1/10 (1 cause I physically can’t give him a 0)

He can cook really well, but refuses to cook anything unhealthy

He always makes sure you,him, and all of Pomefiore are eating healthy and vitamin filled foods no matter what

Small snack? Have a granola bar. Thirsty? Have some of Epels apple juice, no preservatives of course. Breakfast? Have- you get the point

Will look at you as if you just asked him to burn all of his skincare products if you’re making something he deems as unhealthy

^^ Then he proceeds to make the most delicious (and healthy) dish you’ve ever had

Overall 8.5/10

The best you’re getting out of this man is instant ramen

He mostly gets takeout, or Ortho (willingly) cooks for him

If you asked him to help you make Breakfast/Lunch/Dinner, trust me he’ll try. But in the end it’ll be you doing everything and him passing you ingredients

Also, the amount of dishes, specifically cups, he has left in his room

“Idia, can I have a cup?” *cue Idia silently and shamefully handing you a cup* “Thank you”

Overall 0.5/10

Either Lilias cooking traumatized him into learning how to cook, or he followed in Lilias footsteps and can’t cook for shit

But we’ll go with option A

He’s still a bit naive to what some items do, but he has a pretty good grasp on how most things work

“Child of man, what is a…Toaster….”

He enjoys making things that Lilia TRIED making for Malleus during his childhood, but horribly failed

But even he has his moments

One time he set the oven to 500 degrees instead of 400, and he HAD put the cutting board in the oven

^^nothing a small reminder can’t fix though

Sebek will be deathstaring you the entire time if you’re cooking with Mal

Overall 7/10

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Requests are open!

[tf2yall]

Any Merc cooking headcanons? (Also, who would most likely hit someone with a pan in frustration of cooking?)

I actually already did something similar to this here but here are some more headcanons :3

Scout

The most likely merc to set off the fire alarm when cooking

Part of the issue with why he struggles to cook is that he's dyslexic, and struggles to read recipes. He was never actually diagnosed with it until he started working with Mann Co. He's getting better at not thinking that he's stupid, but he's still reluctant to ask for help reading

He can make a lot of relatively simple foods. Anything easy enough that he can just memorize the instructions, and he's golden

Somehow manages to make canned and frozen food taste amazing, despite adding nothing to it

Has a macaroni and cheese recipe that he learned from his mom and it's the most complex thing he can make

Soldier

The most likely merc to commit violence in the kitchen. Not out of frustration but because Soldier just really likes violence lmao

There was a really brief period of about a week where Soldier was allowed in the kitchen

In this time he managed to blow up the microwave, set the toaster on fire (twice), and make some sort of toxic black sludge in the oven. Medic's still not sure why it came to life and started licking Scout's arm.

Cannot cook. Well, he can't cook anything EDIBLE

His philosophy when cooking is 'why not', when the question should really be 'is this at all appetizing?' Soldier will eat the charred messes he creates and Demo, depending on how drunk he is, will give it a shot too. Everybody else has far to much self-preservation to even look at it for too long

Pyro

The most likely merc to hit you with a pan. Possibly in frustration, but it's usually more likely that you insulted their cooking and their consequently pissed.

Pyro is damn PROUD of their cooking and anyone who says otherwise is getting stuffed in the oven. Your screams mean nothing to them. Shouldn't have fucking insulted their casserole.

They cook for the team most nights. The other two great chefs, Demo and Spy are usually doing something else. Demo has bombs to make between fights and Spy just doesn't want to cook for you imbeciles. That's fine, Pyro genuinely enjoys cooking :3

Knows all of the mercs food preferences and makes sure that there's always something that they can eat. Spy generally won't eat meat and if you offer Sniper any sort of tomato product, he'll toss the whole plate.

Try and sneak food from the kitchen before Pyro's done and they can and will throw an axe at you.

Heavy

The most likely merc to actually follow the recipe lmao

Like I said in a previous post, he doesn't really know how to cook all that well. Prior to leaving Russia, his mom pretty much always did the cooking. Not that Heavy's completely helpless, mind you. He can make simple stuff like sandwiches or scrambled eggs.

Deeply appreciates a good meal and never takes food for granted.

Really bad at knowing how much spices to put in a dish. Either underspices or overspices it and it'll taste... Off. Heavy'll eat it anyway.

He's a very quick learner and he's learning how to cook pretty quickly. He struggles a little with the measurements in American cookbooks, so he usually uses recipes from Russian ones.

Demo

The most likely merc to blow up the oven. He's a great chef, he just tends to get a little carried away...

Demo should not be left unattended near anything that can be blown up. Not just in the kitchen, in general. Look, you don't get to be a great demolition expert by saying hmm yeah, maybe I won't blow that up

Like I mentioned, he cooks with Pyro a lot and the two of them are absolutely adorable doing it. They were little chef's hats and aprons and it's just so cute <3

Demo pls stop drinking the cooking alcohol

Might glance at a recipe, but usually just does his own thing when cooking.

Engineer

Tied with Medic as the most likely merc to starve to death. If he's in the middle of something, he will not move to go feed himself and someone's going to have to physically drag him out of his workshop. This is usually Pyro's job because everybody else is likely to get beaten over the head with a wrench.

Really proud of his food when he gets around to making it and will be super pissed off with anyone if they don't accept it. It's not generally a big issue, because his food is fantastic.

Should probably be assigned a chaperone when he cooks because when he gets bored, and Engie's frequently bored, he'll start engineering stuff out of the food. Once, while waiting for the oven timer, he built a functional sentry gun out of peas and carrots. (Dinner burned that night because he was too busy with his little gun)

Salt and grease galore. Like you take a bite of his food, and you instantly feel an impending heart attack. It's fine, Medic has spares if you need a new one.

Always makes way too much food.

Medic

The most likely merc to poison you (on purpose) He just likes seeing what effect arsenic has on the human body, is all.

Hypothetically, Medic should be a good cook. He's smart, he learns quickly, and he has an eye for good ingredients. Medic is not a good cook. He has a tendency to get distracted in the middle of making something and run off

Medic has set the kitchen on fire. Several times. Pyro's beginning to wonder if he likes fire as much as they do.

He's VERY protective of the kitchen when he cooks. In his mind, cooking time is personal time and he doesn't want anyone intruding on it (is it maybe also because he doesn't want anyone see him struggle to crack an egg? Maybe...)

Generally, his meal prep consists of throwing a sandwich together at midnight and eating it over the sink like a ravenous gremlin

Sniper

The most likely merc to starve to death in a room full of ingredients.

My man has never fucking heard of a spice. You say cilantro and he says bless you.

Can barely be bothered to cook his meat. He heats it up just enough that it doesn't bleed when he bites into it, and that's good enough for him. Sometimes he just eats it raw.

Sniper has been removed from the cooking schedule, because he thinks giving someone a can of beans and a spoon is a good way to prepare dinner. It's not. Sniper please.

Probably dying of scurvy because he never eats any fucking fruit lmao. He's just the ravenous wolverine man that lives in the merc's backyard

Spy

The most likely to hit someone with a frying pan. Spy gets frustrated easily, and when he's frustrated, he gets violent

His cooking skills are fantastic. He has a little apron he wears when he cooks. Scout's ma gave it to him and he can and will stab you if you say anything about it. It says 'kiss the cook' on it, and Demo has. Several times. Spy's pretending to be a lot more annoyed about it than he actually is

Has actively offered to help all of the mercs get better at cooking because oh dear god, if you give him a charred mess on a plate ONE more time, he's going to fucking lose it. Heavy is the only one to take him up on the offer

Can't bake and it frustrates the living shit out of him. He just doesn't understand why he can't do it???? Scout can and it drives him up the damn wall. My son. You are so stupid. How can u do this and I cannot

A VERY picky eater. Needs his meat cooked just so, won't eat any kind of seafood, hates when food on his plate touches. (My darling, I think Scout got his ADHD from you lmao)

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs: 2

It’s been almost a week since Steve, Sam and Bucky came to fight the wildfires. You’ve got a routine down with the guys, and so does Cooper. You always have food ready for them when they leave and when they come home. Coffee is always ready for them when they leave and Cooper is waiting at the door for them when they get home.

Each man has taken huge comfort from your therapy dog, and he loves all the extra attention he’s getting from the three men. Cooper does force his way into each of their rooms at one time or another over the week and you’ve got a feeling that those won’t be the only time you’re alone on the couch.

Cooper had followed Steve into his room tonight and you’d gone to bed alone.

You wake as you’re being lifted. “What the hell?” You gasp with a start but you’re shushed softly, his scent fills your nose and you calm quickly.

“It’s me Fawn. I’m putting you to bed.” Steve says softly as he carries you up to your bedroom. “I’m gonna share a room with Buck, you can’t keep sleeping on the couch.”

“No, you’re fighting the fires. I’m just hanging out here.”

“And getting up at all hours to take care of us.” He argues as you try to get out of his grip. “Fawn, I’m not backing down from this one.” He says, his Alpha coming out as he tightens the hold he has on you, his face is close to yours, close enough for you to see the little flecks of green in those blue eyes of his. You sigh and loop an arm around his neck,

“Fine.” You grumble, you’ve heard the Alpha command in his voice, the voice that you literally can’t argue with. “But wouldn’t it make more sense for Sam and Bucky to share?”

“You’d think. If they have too much together time they get snippy. So I’ll just bounce between the two beds.”

“Are you sure?” You hope to change his mind but his face tells you that isn’t happening.

“Yes. You’ve opened your home to us, let us borrow your dog and taken care of us. You deserve your bedroom.” He says shoving open the door with his foot. He sets you gently on your feet and then gives you a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He leaves and closes the door gently behind him. You climb into your bed and sigh softly, it is nice being back in your bed. Not that you’ll ever tell Steve that. It smells like him, it’s comforting and you fall asleep quickly.

You’re up a couple hours later, you pass a sleepy looking Steve in the hallway and a slightly confused Cooper. You head down the stairs and get some coffee going for Sam and pop the blueberry bagel he likes into the toaster. Then you move on to Bucky’s food. You take the plate you’d prepared the night before out of the fridge and peel off the cover. You turn the oven on warm and slide the plate in then go back up to bed and find Cooper sprawled out across it,

“Move over Coop.” You grumble as you climb back into bed. You’re asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

The next time you wake it’s 8:30 and you’ve got to get food ready for Steve. You can hear him in the shower as you head back down to the kitchen. You like to make a full breakfast for the first meal to make sure that they don’t get hungry too quickly while they’re working. Today you’re planning on doing breakfast burritos, something that you can each assemble on your own. Steve comes down a half hour later, just as you’re wrapping up your own burrito.

“How did you sleep?” He asks reaching for a shell.

“Pretty good, Cooper is a bed hog.”

“I’ve noticed he likes to be almost on top of you when he sleeps with you.”

“Part of his training. The weight can help people with anxiety or stress and you all have such high stress jobs.”

“We really appreciate both of you. You sound like the best host from what we’ve heard from the other guys.”

“I’ve always been a caregiver so it’s nice having people to help. Even if I can’t help in the same way that you guys do.”

“Believe me, knowing that we can come home to a bed, good food, a kind soul and a therapy dog is more help than you’ll ever know.” You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face,

“Good. Any requests for dinner tonight?”

“Something pasta?” He offers finishing off his breakfast.

“Okay.” You agree and hold a hand out for his plate.

“Thank you, for everything.” You nod as he stands up and heads for the door.

“Be safe.” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

“I will.” He says, a pleased scent rolls off of him before he heads out to work. Your conversation with him has given you an idea, but you’re going to need some help.

You get to calling other therapy dog handlers in the area. You know that it’s a big ask for them to come to the base of the mountain when it’s on fire but it’s for a good cause. You’ll set up with as many dogs for as many shifts as you can, every couple of days to give the dogs a bit of a break, the handlers too but mostly the dogs.

You’re able to get fifteen people in the area and you have two dogs per shift, even the 4 am shift. You’re able to rotate the dogs in a couple of shifts, so that no one is going too often and the dogs can get a little bit of a break.

You’re so excited that you’re able to do this for them, and you get to start today. You decide to head to basecamp to let Steve know. You want to make sure that the firefighters stop at Blots coffee shop before they head back to their homes tonight. You head toward base camp, it’s only a few miles up the mountain and park near one of the trails you know that skirts the forest. The smoke is worse here than it is near your house but it’s not terrible. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder then make your way up toward Pancho’s Bar where you know they run the fire fighting operation.

As you walk the air gets thicker with smoke, it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe but you can taste the smoke on every inhale. Before you get to Pancho’s you see Steve a little further down the street talking to two other firefighters. He seems so much bigger in all of his gear, as you make your way toward him he sees you and his brows furrow. He pushes past the other firefighters and makes his way to you with long strides.

“Fawn?”

“Hey,” you say and Steve looks, almost worried.

“Fawn, what are you doing up here? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve got a surprise for the firefighters. Down in town.” You tell him suppressing a cough, “I didn’t want anyone to miss it so I thought I’d come up.”

“Oh, hey Grey.” You have to stop yourself from frowning at Brock, he’s such a jerk and his smell is always so sour.

“Brock.” You say before you start to cough.

“C’mere,” Steve says pulling his face mask away from him you step closer and when he hands it to you you take it. “Take a couple of deep breaths for me okay?” He says and cool fresh air tinted with his scent flows into the mask that you hold over your mouth and nose. It soothes you more than you’d like it to. “The smoke is way worse up here. You should head back to town.”

“Please let people know to come down to Blots for the surprise okay?”

“So how do you know Grey?” You do frown this time.

“Sam, Bucky and I are staying at her place.” Steve says gruffly not looking at Brock but keeping an eye on you. You hand Steve back the mask and give him a little smile. “I’ll make sure to tell people. Please go right back to town.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Bye Grey!” Brock calls and before you can leave Steve stops you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“Why does he keep calling you that?”

“Because I’m boring. Like the color grey, there’s nothing exciting about me.” Anger crosses his face and he glares in Brock’s direction.

“That isn’t-“ he pauses as you cough again and he once more passes you his mask, “breathe.” You do as he says, “we’ll talk about this back at the house. But that’s not true okay? It’s not true.” You nod then hand back the mask. “How did you even get up here?”

“There’s a trail that Coop and I use a lot, on the edge of the woods and it’s quick and easy.”

“Straight home okay?”

“Yea.” You agree before realizing that he’s just given you an Alpha command, you glance over your shoulder at him and when you see he’s watching give him a little wave before you start walking back down the mountain. You feel his eyes on you until you round the corner. The wind has picked up a bit since you’d come up but it’s nice, and moving the smoke further up hill. It probably doesn’t make fighting the fires easier but at least it’s not pushing anything downhill.

You hear the crack but it doesn’t register until it’s too late. The branch hits you in the shoulder and you collapse under the weight of it.

You’re dazed, you must’ve hit your head because it’s throbbing but you’re not sure if you’ve lost consciousness or not. Your right arm is pinned under the massive branch and your left has some wiggle room but not enough to do you any good, especially with the throbbing pain in your left shoulder. You try to push with your legs to slide yourself out from under the branch but have no luck. Your phone is in your right pocket, right where you can’t reach it. But your watch might be able to help you still.

“Friday?” It beeps twice, “call Steve.” He’s the first person you think of.

“Calling Steve on Stark Phone.”

“Call him on watch!” You say but it doesn’t. “Damn it!” You watch the watch until it says connected. “Steve! I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m pinned under a branch. Halfway to my car. God please be able to hear me. I can’t reach my phone. I really need help.” You take a steadying breath to try and keep yourself calm. “Go down the hill by the forest, you can’t miss me. Please help.” You try to free yourself again but it’s hopeless, the branch is too heavy and you manage nothing.

God you hope that Steve heard you, or that his voicemail did. You don’t know how long you lay there, occasionally struggling against the branch but you suddenly hear him.

“Fawn!”

“Steve! I’m here!”

“Fawn! Keep yelling Honey!”

“I’m here! By the woods! Steve!” You can’t see him yet but you swear that you can smell him, so you keep yelling, “I’m here! Over here!”

“I see you Fawn! I’m coming.” Sure enough a set of hands lift the log off of you and another set pulls you out from under it. “Don’t move.” Steve says easing you gently back onto the ground. “Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t know. I think so?”

“Buck, check for concussion.” He orders from where he’s holding your head.

“Bucky? What time is it?”

“Almost 7. Sam called about an hour ago, but I didn’t answer because I was busy. When you called I knew something was wrong.”

“Steve calm down.” Bucky growls pulling a flashlight from his pocket.

“I feel like such an idiot.” You whisper as Steve takes a deep breath. Bucky shines a flashlight in your eyes then holds up a finger.

“Follow the finger.” He says and you do as he says and he gives you a smile. “You’re good.”

“I’m just glad we found you.” Steve says softly. “And that you’re okay. Does anything hurt before we move you?”

“My left shoulder but that’s what the branch hit first.”

“I’m going to just check it really quick okay?” Bucky says and you nod, he gently probes at your shoulder. He hits where the branch did and you hiss at the jolt of pain, a low growl comes from Steve. Bucky runs you through a couple of moves to see if it’s dislocated and once he’s satisfied that it’s not he gives you the all clear and Steve helps you to your feet.

“Buck, let Fury know I’m going back with Fawn.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Last time I let you go alone you got hit by a branch.”

“That’s what we call a freak accident.”

“I’m still not letting you go alone.”

“But you’ll miss the surprise!”

“I’m staying with a therapy dog. I don’t need to go meet other ones.” He huffs, you can practically feel the irritation rolling off of him. You frown but he has a point, you glare up at him, “Let’s go Fawn.”

“Stop it.” You snap, even though your stomach lurches at your defiance of his Alpha command.

“Stop what?”

“You keep Alpha commanding me!” He looks surprised for just a second then schools his expression.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly, “I didn’t mean to. When an Omega does something dangerous it just kind of happens.” You stare at him, how the hell does he know you’re an Omega?

“I’m not an Omega. I’m a Beta.” He looks sharply over at you his eyes narrowing.

“Huh,” he doesn’t say anything else but gestures for you to follow him down the mountain.

When you get to your car you look over at Steve, still in all his gear.

“Do you need to go get anything?”

“Buck can drive the truck back rather than getting a ride. Do you want me to drive?”

“If you don’t mind.” You hand him the keys, you’ve got one hell of a headache and your shoulder is throbbing but Bucky gave you the okay to go. After you get in the car and buckle you sigh softly before muttering, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Causing problems. I was just so excited about the dogs that I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have gone up.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He agrees, “I had a big long speech ready for you but you beat me to it.” You laugh softly then wince, laughing hurts. “Let me know if we need to take you to the ER.”

“I will.”

“If you’re comfortable I’d like to take a look at your shoulder and probably ribs before we go to bed. Bucky is our best EMT but I still know what I’m doing.”

“Fine,” you grumble and he shoots you a look. “I’ve learned over the last week it’s just easier not to argue with you. Besides, I don’t need you Alpha commanding me again.”

“Damn right it’s best not to argue with me. But I won’t Alpha command you to do anything, at least I won’t on purpose. Please let me know if I do again okay?”

“Oh, okay.” You’re surprised, but you do appreciate it.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

[hexpea]

Ch. 4 - The Contract

AN: A certain Zenin will be a part of this story a little bit, so things with him will be a little dark - just as a forewarning.

You could barely sleep that night, tossing and turning as your heart fluttered repeatedly. You felt so stupid to have become so suddenly smitten, thinking that there was no way he felt the same. He was so stoic, serious, and intelligent. You probably weren't his type.

The next morning, you and your brother woke up late - as to be expected from a late night party. Satoru looked terribly hungover but proud of himself while he toasted up a bagel in the kitchen, you sleepily joining him.

"You enjoy your night with Nanamin?" Satoru teased, watching you attempt to pour a full carton of orange juice into a glass - spilling some on the counter, feeling completely unfocused from your lack of sleep.

"None of your business!" You sassed your sibling, as always. He was always super nosy about your business in that regard, constantly teasing and sharing details of his own nights that you didn't need to hear. But something about his tone was a little different here.

"Well I'm telling," he mumbled like a child as you wiped the counter with a paper towel.

"Why would you tell? You didn't tell any other times," you put your hands on your hips as he removed his bagel from the toaster oven. The heat burned his fingertips so he dropped it back on the little metal rack that came out of the appliance, putting those fingers in his mouth to cool them with a pouty expression.

"I don't know Nanami," he tried to give some sort of excuse. The excuses he thought of weren't good enough, he knew that, but he saw the way you looked at Kento. He didn't want you to get hurt either by Kento or by Naoya if he were to find out. There was also the possibility of your heart being broken when you were forced to be with someone you didn't truly love. Satoru was truly out for your best interests emotionally even if he didn't do it properly.

"Yeah, well it's still none of your business," you repeated, also unsure of what to say. It was as if there was this ball of tension from the unsaid things clouding your thoughts.

"It is if it interferes with the contract," Satoru hesitated, knowing how much you hated the stupid contract between your parents and the Zenin's. You swore that something like that was illegal, but you knew that the families didn't care.

"Naoya's a piece of shit," you sighed, sipping from your glass of orange juice. Satoru had started smothering his bagel in butter and jam. "He's never attempted to actually date me. You'd think that you'd try to do that with someone you're supposed to marry. It's clear we're not going to have a real marriage. We'll probably have, like, an open relationship as long as I pop out some kids." Satoru winced at the thought, also not liking the contract between the family elders.

"I'd be careful with him," Satoru guided, "I've heard he's much more of an asshole than that from what I hear."

"I'll believe it when I see it," you rolled your eyes and took another sip, your brother finally able to take a bite out of his bagel.

"Do you...know anything about Nanami?" You inquired, lifting an eyebrow to scan your brother's face.

"Not really. He's quiet and reserved 100% of the time," Satoru giggled, taking another bite, "really all about rules and stuff I guess. We don't really click so I never really get to interact with the guy. I mean, I certainly try, but he doesn't usually take the bait."

"Thanks," you sighed, disappointed in the lack of information. "You wouldn't have his...number, would you?"

"Y/N..." Satoru used a scolding tone.

"What?!" You whined, "sure I'm technically engaged, but I'm young...I want to experience stuff. You of all people should know that." Satoru had a slightly saddened look on his face. You seemed so defeated.

"I don't," he finally answered, "but he's always on campus during the week. If you can catch the early train like you did on Friday, you might catch him."

"Thanks," you replied in a defeated tone.

"You're usually into one night stands, though," Satoru's voice was fully of warning, "you never usually go for a second round. Remember...be careful."

"Okay, Dad," you rolled your eyes and downed the rest of your OJ.

On Monday, you impatiently got through your classes - rushing to get the train on time and praying Kento would still be on campus when you arrived.  You rushed through the main courtyard, nearly sprinting with your eyes peeled. Just as you rounded the corner into one of the classrooms, you noticed the familiar crop of blonde hair. Your breathing hitched and you snuck back around the corner with your back flat against the wall, hoping that he didn't notice your urgency.

"Y/N?" You heard Kiyotaka call out. He, Yu, and Kento were all hanging out, likely just after the last class of the day. Kiyotaka and Yu were both holding a rather intense, enthusiastic conversation while Kento was busy with the same book you saw him have on Friday.

"Oh, hey...guys," you awkwardly came around the corner, giving a sweet wave as your cheeks turned pink from the embarrassment.

"What are you doing here?" Kiyotaka asked kindly, a sweet smile of his own on his face. Kento's eyes slightly widened when he saw you, but his eyes quickly went back down to his book as he listened.

"Just...looking for my brother. We always ride home together, so..." you quickly answered, happy to have some sort of excuse to be there.

"Oh, he might be upstairs. There aren't any senior classes on this floor," Yu spoke up, sounding a bit confused. Considering how often you came for Satoru, they figured you'd know that by now, which you did.

"Right, sorry, just going a bit too fast for my own good," you gulped, "I guess I'll see you guys later!" You waved again before dismissing yourself. You were so disappointed in yourself, wasting the only time you'd get to see Kento.

Just as you exited the classroom, you bumped chest-first into another familiar figure. He looked slightly down at you with a livid, disgusted expression.

"Zenin-sama..." you nearly stuttered, stepping back. Naoya smoothed out the front of his uniform and shook his head.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" He asked aggressively, stepping closer to you so that he could better tower over your frame.

"Here for Satoru," you tried to calm yourself but his gaze was so piercing you felt your body lightly tremble.

"You know that he's upstairs," he didn't believe your answer one bit. This wasn't because he was intuitive or that you were a bad liar. It was because he always thought the worst of you. "So...what are you doing here, Y/N?" The snarkiness in his tone was ever-present.

"What does it matter to you?" Your body finally got over the shock of suddenly seeing what was technically your fiancé.

Naoya flattened his expression. "The contract between our families matters," he hissed through clenched teeth.

At this same moment the three boys stepped out into the hallway to begin leaving. Kento left last, pausing for just a second upon hearing Naoya mention a contract. You hadn't noticed their departure since your back was turned on the classroom door.

"You're mine," Naoya continued, grabbing your cheeks and squeezing them tight together until your lips were pursed together.

"That's not what that contract means," you yanked your face from his intense grip.

He quickly grabbed your face once more, nearly interrupting your sentence. He then smashed his lips to yours that were pursed again from his grasp. He loosened the grip just enough for his tongue to move past your lips. You grabbed his wrists with both hands and tried to yank him away, but he was too strong.

"As far as the elders are concerned, it is," he pulled away from you, a trail of spit still connecting you. He took a moment to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, then running his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Fuck you, Naoya," you lowered your lids and clenched your fists, just barely whispering the slur.

"Ah, ah, ah," he waved a finger with a sadistic smile, "that's no way to treat your husband." You felt your face heating up.  What you couldn't see was Kento turning around to look at you both after Naoya had said that, walking slowly down the hallway behind Yu and Kiyotaka. Naoya looked up and made eye contact with him before his eyes fluttered back down to you. "You like each other, don't you?" At this point Kento was now out of ear shot after rounding the hallway corner.

"What are you talking about?" Your head snapped behind you to see if you could see what Naoya was seeing.

"You and Nanami Kento," he crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. Your cheeks immediately turned pink, your expression surprised. "Caught you red handed, you snake," he leaned forward and narrowed his vision at you.

"Nothing happened between us!" You declared, shoving him hard in the chest. He stumbled back a few feet with a furious look on his face.

He was quick and strong, grabbing and quickly slamming you against the wall with your wrists in his grip. You felt your skull knock against the hard wall, a goose egg-sized lump definitely going to form.

"You best behave," he whispered into your ear, his hot breath covering your face, "if you act like that once the license is signed you won't see the light of day." His hostility made your hair stand on end.  "I'll just throw you into the back of my closet, simply breeding you until you produce an heir. Once your done nursing, I'll have your head removed."

"My family would never allow it," you grimaced at his ugly description, teeth grinding together.

"You think you're valuable other than just being a walking womb?" He chuckled, finally releasing you after finding humor. "You have no power, you're not valuable once you've fulfilled the contract." You stayed silent, having just no more to say to the wicked man. "If I see you around him again, there will be repercussions." He then walked past you, running into your shoulder purposefully in the process.

You were just frozen from the trauma of the interaction. You knew he was a piece of shit on a regular basis, but to be jealous...he was a whole other animal.

"Y/N?" You heard the voice of your brother now. You had no idea how long you had been standing there, but it was long enough for Satoru to come searching for you after you weren't at your usual meeting spot. "What's going on? Why are you crying?" He quickly approached you and wiped away one of your tears with his finger.

"Nothing," you muttered, using the tips of your fingers to wipe away the rest of the wetness on your face. You turned and began walking down the hallway to leave.

"Nuh-uh," Satoru placed his hand on your shoulder to slow you down. He then caught up with you and matched your pace. "Nothing makes you cry. Something's going on."

"You were right about Naoya," you felt the lump in your throat that had once disappeared return.

"Oh," Satoru nearly stopped but chose to keep up with you instead, "did he...hurt you?"

"No, but he threatened to," you sighed, finally composing yourself somewhat. "All I wanted was to come say hi to Nanami. Naoya read me like an open book. I really am just a vessel, aren't I?" You looked at your brother as the two of you now strolled outside.

"What do you me-" it took him a second, "no way. Y/N..." he had to admit that really was what the contract was about.

"Please don't try to deny it for my sake," you breathed out hard, already knowing that your brother would lie to cover up the truth to make you feel better.

"You are," he said bluntly, causing a crack to form in your heart. It was similar to a sharp, stabbing pain in your chest - true hurt. "You are to our parents and to the Zenin's, but you're also your own person. And I don't see that of you." You stopped dead in your tracks from his kind words, now standing in the middle of the main courtyard. "To me, you're my kid sister that I like to drive nuts...but deep down I think she's the coolest person ever." He stood in front of you with supportive hands on your shoulders.

"Shut up," you blushed with a small smile on your face. You angled it downward to hide it from him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

     You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on. 

     As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

     Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up. 

     The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could. 

     Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room. 

     But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse. 

     He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life. 

     You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together. 

     About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation. 

     Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday. 

     “Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

     MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?” 

     You roll your eyes playfully.

     “I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.” 

     “It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

     “Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-”     “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off. 

     “Who is this guest?” 

     “Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man. 

     “Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

     “Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

     The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

     “Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching. 

     Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

     “And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

     “How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

     The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in. 

     “New York.” 

     He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays. 

     “Washington D.C”

     A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following. 

     “Sokovia.” 

     The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land. 

     “Lagos.” 

     “That’s enough,” Steve interrupts. 

     Ross nods in response and begins his speech again. 

     “For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

     He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking. 

     “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” 

     “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

     “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

     At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

     “So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states. 

     “Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.” 

     Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

     “Then you retire.” 

     The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

     As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you. 

     “Can I help you?” 

     “You’re a little young to be an intern.” 

     “You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder. 

     Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder. 

     You look at him like he’s lost his mind. 

     “You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.” 

     Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you. 

     “Don’t touch me,” 

     Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

     “Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have. 

     “So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

     “117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.” 

     “I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator. 

     “Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters. 

     “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.“

     “Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap. 

     Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

     “I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.” 

     “Boom,” Rhodey says.                             

     You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere. 

     “Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

     “It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained. 

     “Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

     Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man. 

     “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

     He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

     “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

     “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

     “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

     “Who said we’re giving up?” 

     “We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

     “I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

      “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”   

      “That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.  

     “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

     “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

     Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

     “We would protect you,” Vision promised. 

     “Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

     “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts. 

     “I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back. 

     “Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

     “Oh, I want to take it back now.”

     “No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.” 

     From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly. 

     You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team. 

     “Someone’s upset,” you hum. 

     You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle. 

     “Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.” 

     Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair. 

     “I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.” 

     You open the bottle and take a sip. 

     “What are you doing down here kid--”

     “Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

     “Just answer the question,” Tony snaps. 

     “I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.” 

     An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water. 

     “Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?” 

     “Not you too,” your father mutters. 

      You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely. 

      “Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks. 

      “Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

     “Look,” Tony attempts. 

     “I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

     “I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down. 

     “I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

     You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed. 

-

     It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read. 

     “You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

     You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands. 

     “Hey,” she quietly protests. 

     “Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

     MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek. 

     She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more. 

     Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours. 

     This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

     You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath. 

     “We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled. 

     Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side. 

     “Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47. 

     “Guess I’m spending the night then.” 

     “I have no problem with that.”

-

     The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video. 

     “A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

     Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear. 

      “Nat what the fuck is going on?”

     You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone.     “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

     “Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

     “(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

     There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle. 

     “Okay, whatever. Bye.”

     “(Y/n) c’mo--”

     You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk.     “You sound stressed.” 

     Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her. 

     “I am.”

     You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly. 

     “There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging. 

     MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close. 

     “They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.” 

     There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up. 

     “C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face. 

     Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen. 

     She turned around and grabbed your shoulders. 

     “We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

     You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work. 

-

     It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back. 

     When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it. 

     Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw. 

     “What the hell happened?”

     The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers. 

     Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs. 

     “You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?” 

     Both men looked away and avoided your gaze. 

     “You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

     “Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

     “Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!” 

     You turned to your father with pleading eyes. 

     “Where are they, Tony?”

     “Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

     “Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?” 

     You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them. 

     Just when things were alright.

-

     “(Y/n)?” 

     “What M.I.A?”

     You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

     “There’s a package for you.” 

     Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room. 

     Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone. 

     Hey sweetheart.

     It was Natasha’s handwriting.

     I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now. 

     I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me. 

     I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart. 

     But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will. 

     I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call. 

     You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand. 

     You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Permanent Taglist

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@littlegasps​, @leahnicole1219​, @thebadassass, @legendarymcnuggies, @big-galaxy-chaos​, @believinghurts​, @play-morezeppelin​, @vavilip​, @coollemonsaresour​, @ximaginx​, @xx-narcissa​

Marvel Taglist

@hateinthemorning​, @mylove4life​, @badbitchyonjii, @blueposthings​

[tomhardysteeth]

Use Your Imagination

[ao3]

2.9k Eddie Brock/Venom Based entirely on the Venom: Let There Be Carnage trailer

Eddie woke up to the feel of his body tugging indiscriminately out from his back. He sighed and reached behind himself, easily finding a tentacle and tickling it until it retreated back inside him.

Wake up, Eddie, Venom said cheerily, running a slimy three-pronged tendril across his face delicately. We’re hungry.

“Ugh, can’t you just bring me something in here?” Eddie replied grumpily, burying his face in his pillow.

No. Venom took control of his legs and lifted him up and onto the floor, and Eddie momentarily lost his balance before a tentacle righted him.

Eddie groaned and stretched his back, cracking it. He headed to the bathroom and took a piss while a tentacle brushed his teeth.

He was exhausted, because he and Venom had finally tracked down all the guys harassing Mrs. Chen and had spent half the night running—literally running—them down. But Venom was even more chaotically energetic than usual because it had gotten to eat three people.

And Eddie couldn’t drink caffeine anymore—Venom hated it—so he was resigned to his orange juice and to spending the entirety of the morning just trying to wake up. 

“Babe, what the hell are you making?” Eddie asked as his body shifted minutely with the extension of several tentacles all over the kitchen. 

Breakfast, Venom replied as it knocked several things out of the fridge and onto the floor.

“You can’t possibly be hungry.”

No, but you are. 

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how their digestive systems worked, but he knew his body didn't even notice when they ate people, and his appetite was completely different than it used to be and also completely different from humans in general. He had to eat big, disgusting meals at least three times a day, and despite Venom assuring him that they both needed the sustenance to survive, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that he had gained weight.

Not that he could get on a scale. He broke his bathroom scale when he tried, presumably because a massively dense alien inhabited his body. That being said, his belly stuck out farther than it used to and his jeans were too tight.

Venom was making a mess and singing along (terribly) to the radio, so Eddie took a seat at the kitchen table and tried to dig his phone out of the pocket of his robe with his hand, but a tentacle got to it first and handed it to him.

He scrolled for a few minutes, ignoring the crashing sounds and the fire that he could see in his peripheral vision. Venom would clean it all up eventually, so it was fine. 

“Don’t forget to feed the chickens,” Eddie said distractedly, still looking at his phone.

Don’t forget to feed the chickens, Venom mocked in a nagging voice. 

They always had a few chickens in their apartment that Eddie got from a local farmer so Venom could eat live meat whenever it needed it. Except for the one chicken Venom had apparently imprinted on and was actually just their pet. Venom had named her Popsicle.

Ta-da, Venom said as it dropped two plates stacked high with who knows what underneath the waffles. 

“Thanks, Vee. Looks great,” Eddie lied. 

Venom swirled the end of a tentacle across his face, and Eddie reached up a hand to hold it steady so he could kiss it. 

Venom always helped with eating, because despite Eddie’s weird appetites, he still found it difficult to actually put food to mouth without gagging a bit. He also hated how long it took to eat enough to make him full, so Venom took to mindlessly feeding him, quicker than Eddie could feed himself, while he checked his emails and read the news.

What do you want to do this weekend? Venom asked as it put a fork to Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing,” Eddie mumbled around the food.

Oooh, spicing it up a bit from last weekend when we did nothing.

Eddie huffed a laugh and reached for a limb, tangling his fingers through the threads of Venom’s biomass. 

After breakfast, Eddie got caught up in reading on his phone, so Venom took over control of his body and moved him onto the couch. It laid him on his back and propped pillows behind his head and under his arm, then it produced several tentacles out of the center of his chest and took to cleaning the mess it had made.

Eddie couldn’t see his phone past the tentacles, so a smaller tendril emerged and held it for him. His hands free, he stuck his right down the front of his boxers and lazily played with himself. 

Venom ignored him, too busy humming along to the radio to notice that Eddie was getting hard. After about five minutes, Eddie got bored and stopped his hand, resting it palm down inside the waistband of his boxers. His neglected boner softened.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Anne’s voice shouting at them to turn off the music. 

Eddie jumped and reflexively sucked a couple tentacles back into his body. Another limb caught his phone before it fell to the floor, then even more tentacles came out of his back and pushed him upright and closed his robe for him. 

Venom had cleaned much of the mess in the kitchen, but there was still cereal all over the counter, dishes piled precariously in the sink and on the stove, bullet holes in the fridge door, a tire swing hanging by the kitchen table, gaping holes in the ceiling, a four-foot stack of various bones from different creatures in the corner—hacked up by Venom during digestion.

“The chickens—grab the fucking chickens,” Eddie whisper-shouted as he walked to the door, Popsicle under his arm. 

Venom grabbed the other three chickens and held them out of sight of the cracked door. 

“Hey, Annie,” Eddie greeted. 

She tried to peer through the door, but Eddie had a tight grip on it, only revealing a sliver of his body to her. 

“You didn’t text me last night,” she said.

Eddie closed his eyes. “Right. Sorry. We got home really fucking late, and it just slipped my mind.” 

“Eddie, I have to know you’re OK.” Anne tilted her head and moved her eyes like if she looked hard enough then the door would magically swing open. 

“We’re fine, Annie. We took care of things.” Eddie avoided telling Anne details of his and Venom's vigilantism, but he always tried to text her to let her know they were safe. 

“Eddie.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you holding a chicken?”

As Eddie looked down at the chicken under his arm, Anne shoulder-tackled him and the door simultaneously and made a break for it into his apartment. Venom immediately encased her in tentacles and tossed her back into the hallway and slammed the door shut in her face.

I HAVEN’T FINISHED CLEANING UP IN HERE, ANNIE, AND I’D LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, Venom shouted.

Several neighbors yelled and banged on the walls, demanding that Venom shut the fuck up. 

“HEY!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs. He grabbed a broom with his hand and a mop with a tentacle and aggressively hit the ends of them against the ceiling and walls. “NEED I REMIND YOU FREELOADERS WHO TOOK CARE OF CRAIG?” 

Craig was their (missing for 35 days and counting) landlord. 

Anne pounded on the door. “Eddie, open this fucking door, I swear to god!”

Eddie forcefully cracked the door, only enough for Anne to see one of his narrowed eyes. “You’re not allowed to judge how we live.”

She pushed on the door, and he allowed her to come inside. A solid minute passed in which Anne stood in the middle of the apartment with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room without saying anything. Then, in an even tone:

“Alright. First question. Tire swing?”

Venom continued cleaning. Eddie stood next to Anne.

“Do you want the real answer or the PG answer?”

Anne’s whole body revolted. “Ew, oh my god. Gross, gross, gross—”

No, Annie, look, it’s just for this, Venom said, extending a head out of Eddie’s shoulder and snaking several tentacles around the tire. It spun the tire as fast as possible in one direction and then unraveled itself in a gooey mess as the tire spun in the other direction. 

“Oh,” Anne said. “Is that really what you use it for?”

Venom’s head was in the middle of the tire with limbs extending out to swing itself back and forth. No, I suspend Eddie in it and fuck him until he cries.

Anne cursed and threw her hands up in the air. Eddie and Venom laughed.

“Alright, next question.” Anne said after she had recovered. “Are the chickens for eating?”

“Yeah, except for Popsicle.” Eddie pointed across the room at where Popsicle was pecking at unidentified detritus on the floor.

“How the hell do you know which one Popsicle is?” 

“What do you mean? She’s that one.” He pointed again.

“They all look the same, Eddie.”

No. Popsicle looks like that. Venom pointed a tendril toward Popsicle. And the food looks like that. Another tendril split off into three prongs to point at the other chickens. 

Anne dropped her head and put her fingers to her temples, rubbing in circles. 

The toaster oven exploded. 

“Jesus, Vee, what did I tell you about—”

WELL maybe if SOMEONE would let me steal an oven then we could—

“Where the hell are we gonna put an oven in here? You gonna steal it from one of our neighbors?”

They continued arguing with each other while a tentacle grabbed a fire extinguisher from their stash of fire extinguishers in the coat closet and put the toaster oven out. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna get your deposit back, Eddie,” Anne said, still looking around his apartment. Her eyes stopped on the wicker basket full of dildos by the TV, but she didn't comment on it. 

A rock hit Eddie’s window. Venom opened it and stuck a tentacle out, and the neighborhood kids down on the street cheered and asked if it had time to play. 

“Go ahead, babe,” Eddie said.

It always felt a little strange when Venom removed so much of itself from inside Eddie’s body. It of course had to leave some still inside him, but just one tiny thread connected them together as Venom fanned out on the outside of the apartment building and juggled as many mundane objects as the children had in their power to throw up at it. Rocks, old toys, dolls, basketballs, baseball bats, a lawn chair, a pan of broccoli casserole, a cat. 

“How the hell do you live like this, Eddie?” Anne asked. 

Eddie cleared a space on the kitchen counter by shoving cereal onto the floor, then he grabbed two mugs off the sink pile and dug the coffeemaker out from the back of an extremely disorganized cabinet. The coffee itself was hidden from Venom in a plastic bag duct taped to the wall behind the fridge, so Eddie easily nudged the fridge to the side to retrieve it. He figured if Venom played with the kids long enough, he could get a little bit of caffeine in his body without it noticing. 

He said to Anne, “I’m in a relationship with an alien. What do you expect?”

Anne looked at the fridge then at Eddie, clearly confused by his inhuman strength. “I don’t know? For you to still act like an adult human?” 

Eddie internally tugged at the strands of Venom still inside him and found just enough biomass to make thick black veins pop out all over his face. “How ‘bout now? Do I still look like an adult human?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie pulled the veins back in. “Stop worrying about us, Annie. I know it looks like a disaster in here, but that’s because our life is a disaster. It works for us.”

A child shrieked in a loud laugh. Eddie could just barely see through the window that Venom was juggling the 5-year-old twin girls that lived in the apartment below them. 

“Babe!” Eddie yelled. “Put the girls down before somebody calls the fucking cops!”

The girls aww’d their disappointment as Venom carefully lowered them to the ground. 

“Eddie.”

He turned his attention back to Anne and waited for her to continue.

“Are you, um, safe? Like, what are the logistics of your...sex life?”

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, Annie, Vee is made up of a whole bunch of malleable tentacles, so I’d say use your imagination.”

Venom slithered its way back in, so Eddie tried to gulp down his coffee but didn’t finish before a tentacle wrenched it out of his hand and slung it into the sink.

“How do you know you’re not, like, subjecting yourself to some kind of alien STDs?” Anne asked. “Or, like, what if it’s changed your body composition so much that you guys are, like, capable of reproducing?”

Venom and Eddie both gasped and smiled at each other, Venom’s head floating just a couple feet away from Eddie’s. 

Eddie said, “Oh, that would be so cute if we had a little—” at the same time that Venom said Aww imagine if it had your good looks and my complexion—

“Fucking Christ, you guys are intolerable,” Anne interrupted. “Can you not be weird for, like, two seconds?”

Venom pouted at her and moved its head over to Eddie’s shoulders, nudging at his face and bumping against him like a needy cat. It wrapped two big tentacles around his waist like arms, and Eddie dropped his hands over them and squeezed affectionately. 

“What else did you come over here for, Annie?” Eddie asked.

She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you and Venom would like to come over to my apartment sometime to have dinner with me and Dan.”

Venom’s head popped up from where it was resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Dan is finally ready to hang out with me?!

“Yes, but he’s still a little delicate since—”

I tried to stick my tongue in his mouth when you were kissing him goodbye before going to rescue Eddie from Riot, yeah, I get that.

“You what?” Eddie asked.

“So if you could just try to temper yourselves a tiny bit, maybe leave the chickens at home and don’t talk about fucking each other,” Anne concluded. 

“He knows that we’re fucking each other, though, right?”

“Yes, but knowing it and being confronted with it are two totally different things.”

Hey, Annie, tell Dan I think he’s boring.

“Hey, be nice,” Eddie chastised, reaching a hand up to pat Venom’s face. 

Anne told them she would let them know a date and time, then she headed for the door with Eddie close on her heels. She turned and hugged him on her way out and didn’t flinch when a couple tentacles clung to her, too. 

They’re not going to feed us enough, Venom said after she was gone. 

“Yeah, we’ll have to pre-game.”

Eddie went back to his lazy spot on the couch and Venom went back to tidying up. This time, when Eddie’s hand inevitably found its way into his boxers, Venom took notice right away and teased a small tendril out of his thigh to join in on the fun. 

ALEXA, PLAY “LET’S GET IT ON” BY MARVIN GAYE.

“You broke the Alexa yesterday, babe.”

Right, I’ll just have to sing it myself.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned his head back, stroking himself slowly. “Please don’t.”

Venom rumbled a complaint through Eddie’s entire body, but then it snaked two tentacles over his shoulders and down his chest and pulled his boxers off completely. Two more tentacles pushed out of Eddie’s back and hammocked him in, folding underneath him and then turning up toward the ceiling to grip the holes.

When they started having sex, it wasn’t really so much of a monumental decision as it was Venom participating in literally every single other aspect of Eddie’s life that it just didn’t make sense for it not to be involved in the most fun bit. After Venom had been with Eddie for a week or so, Eddie couldn’t avoid his sex drive anymore and tried to quietly jerk off. Venom, having already stuck its tentacles into everything else Eddie did, simply wrapped a limb around Eddie’s hand and helped him out. And Eddie, stupid and horny, had immediately asked the alien to fuck him with its tongue. 

So, here they were.

With Eddie suspended, Venom moved its head under him and licked its way around his rim. There was still only one small tendril helping his hand pump his cock, but they had plenty of time to—

“Eddie, I forgot my—oh my god, oh my fucking god, oh my fucking—”

Eddie dropped back down on the couch, biomass encasing his nakedness in a safe little cocoon, but Anne had already rushed out the door and slammed it shut. 

He sighed. “I guess she doesn’t have to use her imagination.”

[birdiefw]

Love Me Like You Do | Sam Winchester [18 +]

Summary: You decide to make breakfast for you and Sam in the bunker a few weeks after you get married only to burn your hand. But, thankfully Sam was there to take care of you in more ways than one.

Warnings: Fluff, getting burnt while cooking, hurt/comfort, swearing, teasing, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, and protected sex.

A/N: I just like Sam a lot. What can I say? It’s been edited, but there could still be some errors here and there. Please feel free to send me some requests :)

It had been three days since you and the winchesters had found yourselves inside the Men of Letters Bunker that Henry Winchester had told you three about before he died. You hadn’t been entirely sure about staying there when you didn’t know what kinds of things could’ve been stored inside or if there were any traps set up in case someone decided to snoop around, but once you laid down on a bed in one of the bedrooms, you officially found yourself quickly liking the bunker. You had a feeling Sam and Dean weren’t so sure about settling in either, but you could certainly tell Dean enjoyed having a room all to himself instead of having to constantly share with you and Sam. You brought your bags in and placed them in the rooms, but you had decided against unpacking and storing your clothes in the dressers in the bedroom.

You knew better than to get your hopes up.

You tiredly rubbed at your eyes as you stood in the kitchen━the kitchen that wasn’t part of a living room or only had a 50 year old coffee pot and small refrigerator━while you cooked some breakfast. There had been a coffee pot there, but it was absolutely disgusting━along with a smelly toaster that had moldy bread still stuck inside it━and both of them had been thrown out; and knowing how much coffee the three of you consumed on a daily basis, you had decided to buy a nice coffee pot as well as a toaster━and if you ended up leaving the bunker, you could just take them both with with you.

You twisted your lips, shaking your head as you flipped some pieces of bacon, using a fork as you did so. There were some hash browns cooking in the pan beside the bacon, a toaster off to the side with a loaf of bread placed beside it for when you were ready to put some in. You shifted your weight to one foot, adjusting one of the sleeves of Sam’s flannel you wore, some sleep shorts hidden underneath them as your slippers kept your bare feet warm. Sam had surprisingly still been sleeping when you woke, and you’d decided to cook him some breakfast━with the “fake bacon” as Dean had called it since Dean had left the day before to check on Kevin and his mother and wouldn’t be there complain about it.

You stole a glance down at your hand, a grin starting to appear on your lips as you gazed down at your left hand where you wore your wedding ring. It was still so strange to see it, but it also felt so right. You weren't exactly sure how to describe it, but it sent a warmth through your entire body as you looked down at it. You looked away after a few moments and moved to the side, trying to find another plate to set the cooked bacon on as the pieces started to crispen up. You were still trying to figure your way through the kitchen, having taken a little longer to get the pans out when you couldn’t find them at first. But eventually, you found some more plates. However, a frown appeared on your face when seeing they were on the tallest shelf of the metal rack right in front of the fridge; your fingers were barely able to touch the plates.

“Need some help, Mrs. Winchester?”

Your head instantly turned towards the entryway, a playful grin appearing on your lips as you saw your husband smugly leaning against the doorway with an amused smirk evident on his lips.

You lowered your arm, tilting your head towards him. “How’d you guess, Mr. Winchester?” you asked, seeing him head towards you.

“How many you need?” he asked, stealing a glance down at you as he reached the top shelf with ease.

“Uh, one,” you answered, but then you quickly shook your head. “No, wait━just give me two. I might need them.”

“As you wish,” Sam said, grabbing two plates and handing them to you. You cheekily beamed as he did so, quickly returning to the stove after setting the plates on the counter in front of the oven. Sam’s smile still remained on his lips as his eyes followed you, moving to stand at the edge of the counter. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve helped.”

You took some bacon from the pan and set them on one of the plates, placing some more in the pan. “You looked too cute to disturb,” you answered with a giggle. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of making breakfast by myself.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” Sam said, leaning against the counter as he sent you a warm smile. “We’re a team, remember?”

You suddenly frowned, turning to him as you adjusted the hash browns around the sizzling pan. “No,” you said, giving him a coy look. “When did we agree on that?”

Sam faked a laugh, playfully rolling his eyes as he started to move behind you and towards the toaster while you giggled. He briefly leaned down, pecking the top of your head as he brushed past, making your smile widen. His gaze fell on the bacon, doing a double take before his eyes flickered towards you. “Wait,” he said, causing your to look over in his direction, “Is this━I thought Dean didn’t buy any.”

“He didn’t,” you said, softly smiling towards Sam. “But I did.”

Sam’s face lit up, lovingly gazing down at you. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

You hummed in thought, furrowing your brows as you looked to the side as if in deep concentration. “Not since we went to bed like nine hours ago, so, not soon enough.”

“Well, I love you, Y/N,” Sam told you, leaning over.

You did so too, sweetly connecting your lips with Sam. You pulled away a few seconds later with a cheerful grin adorning your face. “I love you, too, Sammy.” Then you let out a content sigh as Sam put some toast in the toaster. “Can you get the avocado spread for me please?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered, maneuvering past you once again.

You smiled to yourself, watching him head towards the fridge. You eyes watched him carefully, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared at his tall frame off to the side as he searched for the spread.

You shifted your feet, moving your hand to adjust the pan with the hash browns, but suddenly you gasped, quickly pulling your hand away as you accidentally touched the hot stove. “Oh, fuck!”

Sam’s head instantly snapped to the side, eyes widening as his attention fell on you. “Baby?” he asked, a frown appearing on his face when he saw you cradling your hand with a pained expression on your face. He quickly closed the fridge and hurried over to your side. “What happened?”

You merely groaned, gritting your teeth as you tried to breath through the pain. “Oh, nothing,” you said with a pant, starting to turn away. “I’m-I’m fine.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m really gonna believe that,” Sam said as he reached over, giving you a look as gently grabbed your wrist to pull your arm closer.

You deeply frowned, stealing a glance up at him as he examined your slightly reddened hand. “My first time cookin’ breakfast here and I burn my hand,” you grumbled.

Sam frowned as well, not liking the sight of you being in pain. “C’mere,” he said, nudging his head towards the sink.

“But the food━”

“You’re more important than the food, Y/N,” Sam said.

“Bu-we need to at least turn it off,” you stated.

Sam sighed but reached over as you headed towards the sink, making sure to turn off the burners before returning to your side. You turned on the sink, cool water running from the faucet. Sam stood beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “There’s gotta be some bandages around here somewhere,” he said, gazing down at you.

“Sam, it’s fine, really━”

“Baby, just let me take care of you,” Sam said. “It’s my job.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, turning off the sink. “I think I have some in my bag.”

“Alright, I’ll go━”

“Remember how long it took you to find my phone the last time I had you look in my bag?” you asked, giving Sam a pointed look. Sam sighed, faintly nodding his head. you smiled and held your good hand out to him. “C’mon, Sammy.”

Sam smiled and took your hand in his, letting you lead him down the hall towards the room they’d been staying in for the time being. you headed in first, careful not to use your hand as you picked up your bag and placed it on the bed. Sat on the edge of the bed, trying to unzip it with just one hand, but it was proving to be a bit of a struggle. You sourly twisted your lips, sheepishly looking towards Sam who was standing on the other side of the bed. “Need a hand?” he asked, a cheeky grin spread across his lips.

You huffed, shooting him a glare as you puyoud the bag towards him. “Shut up, Moose.”

Sam returned your glare for the nickname, but he didn’t say anything as he grabbed the bag and unzipped it for your, giving your a look when seeing what was all inside it. “What━are you trying to become a hoarder of Y/F/C?”

You scoffed, grabbing your bag and pulling it closer to your so it was out of his reach. “You have your hobbies and I have mine,” you meekly defended.

“But why do you have so many━”

“They’re good!” you said, nonchalantly shrugging as one of your hands rummaged through your bag, eyes pinned to Sam.

Sam watched your, furrowing his brows. “How’re you gonna find━” his lips suddenly smacked closed, a surprised expression appearing on his face when he saw you pull out a first aid kit.

“You were saying?” you hummed, smugly gazing up at Sam.

Sam playfully rolled his eyes and sat on the bed, holding his hand out for you. You shifted on the bed, crossing your legs as you sat in front of him, your hand resting on his leg as he pulled out some things from the first aid kit.

Sam smiled and gently picked up your hand to put some ointment on it. You suddenly hissed at the touch, making Sam frown. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered.

“Guess this place doesn’t like us,” you chuckled.

Sam chuckled, grabbing a bandage to wrap on your hand. “It’ll just take some time to get used to it.”

“Yeah?” you asked. “Does that mean you won’t mind staying here for a while?”

Sam let out a sigh, securing the bandage on the side of your hand. “I. . .I think it can work for a while.”

You smiled as Sam closed the kit, standing up to place it on top of one of the dressers. You glanced down at your hand, warmily smiling up at your husband. He sat back down on the bed, a soft grin tugging on his lips. “You know I love you, right?”

You playfully huffed, leaning back on the bed while your legs dangled over the edge. You just hummed, momentarily closing your eyes. You felt the bed move, hearing some rustling before Sam laid down beside you.

“Have you heard from Dean yet?” you asked, doing a double take when you opened your eyes and found Sam gazing down at your with a cheeky grin. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“What? I can’t just admire your beautiful face?” Sam innocently replied.

You suspiciously narrowed your eyes. “What do you want?”

Sam breathed out a laugh, looking rather offended as he continued to gaze down at you. “Why do you think I want something?”

You chuckled, faintly shrugging. “I don’t know, but I just have a feeling you do.”

Sam huffed, playfully rolling his eyes. “I don’t want anything,” he said, briefly glancing down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. “It’s just. . .this is our first time really having a place to ourselves. . .”

You immediately smiled, biting your lip. “Well, we’ve had motel rooms to ourselves. . .”

“But this one’s different,” Sam replied. You shifted, rolling onto your stomach and cheekily resting your head on one of your hands. “It. . .”

“It feels. . .not like home, but━”

“But something that works for now,” Sam said.

The corner of your lips tweaked upwards, noticing Sam’s eyes had darkened a few shades while his eyes remained locked on your features. “Do you have something in mind that we can do while Dean’s gone?”

One of Sam’s hands moved, reaching up to gingerly touch your jaw. “I can think of a few things,” he softly replied.

You grinned, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Care to enlighten me?”

Sam smirked and leaned towards you, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. you were slightly surprised with how gentle it was, having been expecting Sam to be more needier with the lack of intimacy you’ve had lately. But, his lips were so soft against yours, gliding across your own with ease. You felt Sam shift beside you, moving closer as his other hand carefully nudged you to lay on your back. You easily did so, pulling away as Sam moved so he was on top of you, one of his legs settled between your own.

You let out a ragged breath, your lust-blown eyes lovingly gazing up at Sam. “Was this your plan all along?” you wondered.

“What? Getting you to burn your hand so I’d have to patch you up and then seduce you?” Sam laughed.

“Maybe,” you giggled along, nodding your head as you reached your hand up to gently touch his face. Sam leaned into your touch, an adoring smile on his lips as he gazed down at you.

Rather than responding, Sam simply leaned down again to reconnect your lips. Your hand traveled to his hair, pulling his face even closer while your other hand carefully trailed down his back. Sam’s breath fanned your face as he broke away from the kiss, looking at you. “Careful with your hand,” he told you, sincere concern etched in his voice.

“I’ll be fine,” you told him, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist and tug his body closer. You smirked up at Sam, running your fingers through his soft hair, hearing him sigh with content. “And if something happens, I have you to take care of me.”

Sam’s smile widened. “Can’t argue with that.”

You pulled him closer again and reconnected your lips, this one more rough than the last. Sam’s hand cupped the side of your face, his other one keeping him propped up over your so he wasn’t completely laying on top of you. He tilted his head some more, smirking into the kiss when you parted your lips. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, hearing you suck in a sharp breath as you grabbed some of his hair.

He could tell you were becoming needier, moaning into your mouth when he felt you move your hips against him. He moved his lips, kissing his way down your neck. “Fuck. . .Sam,” you breathed out, arching your back slightly. You squeaked out another moan when Sam rutted his hips against yours, grunting against your hot skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sam murmured against your skin, feeling his sweatpants start to tighten as you continued to move your hips against his. “Shit. . .”

“Sam please,” you softly begged, tugging on Sam’s hair.

“Please what?” Sam huskily asked, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

You softly sighed, moving your hand from his hair and to his hand that was trailing circles along your exposed flesh just above the waistline of your pajama bottoms. You let out a breathy huff at the smugness that was evident on Sam’s face, but you also felt your body grow more excited from it. “Do something━fuck, anything!”

“Like what?” Sam teased, his fingers nail trailing along the skin right about your bottoms, his smirk widening when you fidgeted under his intoxicating touch.

You sucked in a sharp breath, sitting up on your elbows with your brows raised up at him. “Whatever you want,” you softly said, hungrily licking your lips. “You’re the one who said you had a few ideas in mind.”

“True, but I’m sure you have a few, too,” Sam replied. “You don’t need to be shy about it━I am your husband after all.”

You smiled, tracing your fingers along his hand that was just barely trailing along your lower stomach. You leaned forward, your lips meshing together with Sam’s. Your sore hand softly traveled down his toned back, your fingers slipping under the fabric to touch his hot skin. Your other hand grabbed his, guiding his fingers past the hem.

Sam smiled into the kiss, momentarily pulling away to brush some of your hair to the side. “See, was that so hard?” he taunted.

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “Just take your shirt off and kiss me.”

“As you wish, baby,” Sam said. He leaned back on his knees, swiftly tugging his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. Then he crawled back on top of you, lips attacking your neck with sloppy kisses as his hand slipped into your pajama shorts.

You let out a content sigh, your hands tracing his back muscles as he nipped at your neck. “God,” you whispered, lips parting as his fingers slipped into your underwear and through your slick folds.

“Happy I’m awake now?” Sam grunted, kisses making their way towards your lips.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, bucking your hips to match the increasing movement of his hand. Your hand slipped back into his hair, your nails scratching against the back of his head and making him moan in your ear. Your lips crashed together again, this one more sloppy as their teeths clayoud against one another, tongues battling for dominance. Your brows furrowed and you leaned your head back as a loud moan passed your lips, giving Sam more access to your neck.

He increased the movement of his slender fingers, grunting against your flesh as you continued to tug his hair and run your hand up and down his back.

“Sam!” you needily whimpered, body shuddering as you got closer and closer to release.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Sam murmured, lowering his body some as he adjusted himself above you, becoming more rough. “You want my mouth?”

Your response was a sweet little cry that was like music to Sam’s ears. He shifted his position and moved, his hand slipping from your pants as he eagerly tugged down your shorts and underwear while you lifted your body to make it easier. You watched with excitement as Sam hastily settled himself between your legs.

“Fuck, please b━” you sucked in a sharp breath as Sam flicked his tongue against you, his fingers returning and setting your entire body on fire. “God, Sam! Right there!”

Sam hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the pleasure you felt. You tossed your head back as one of your hands returned to his hair, the fingers starting to unbutton the flannel you wore that was starting to feel like it was too much as you tugged it up some. “Yes! S-SAM!” you desperately cried out, coming against Sam’s mouth moments later.

He continued to work you through your orgasm, your hips settling on the mattress as you felt your heart rate begin to relax, but you weren’t finished just yet.

“C’mere,” you panted as you sat up, eager to continue. You hand went to the back of Sam’s neck, tugging him closer. He climbed back on top of you with a smirk, a desperate sound suddenly escaping from the back of his throat as you palmed him through his pants.

“Fuck Y/N,” he panted, eyes flicking up to meet yours as he lifted his head. If you kept going at the rate that you were, he’d be coming undone in seconds. He pulled away slightly, his hand going on top of yours to make your pause. “Where’s━”

“The top drawer,” you hastily answered as you pointed to the nightstand on what seemed to be more “Sam’s side”.

Sam raised his brows at you, seeing your sheepishly shrug and smile. “Well, you never know what’ll happen and you gotta be prepared. . .and it’s kinda like we’re having a honeymoon since we━”

“The best honeymoon ever,” Sam smiled, giving you a quick kiss. You smiled, biting your lip as Sam climbed off the bed and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. He quickly got rid of his pants and underwear while you managed to slip the flannel off and toss it somewhere else as you weren’t exactly paying attention to anything besides Sam.

You wiggled your brows at him as he climbed back on the bed, making a chuckle escape his lips as he moved above your once more. you let out a breath, your eyes raking over him before your eyes locked with his. “I love you,” you softly said.

“I love you, too, baby,” Sam murmured, bending down to give you a sweet kiss. Yoi shifted slightly to get in a more comfortable position, moving your legs and wrapping both of your legs around Sam’s waist. “You ready?”

You nodded, giddily grinning. “Yeah.”

Sam passionately kissed your as he entered you, moaning into your mouth at the feeling. You gasped and your eyes fluttered closed, tightening your legs around your husband. “Shit, baby,” Sam whispered, nuzzling his nose against your as he waited a moment. You tilted your head, resting a hand on one of his broad shoulders, catching his gaze. “You okay?”

You nodded, your hand moving to his jaw, finger swiping over his bottom lip. “Always when I’m with you.”

Sam brightly smiled, his dimples poking out of his cheeks.

Then he started to move, starting out slow to make sure you got to enjoy it, too. Sam clenched his eyes shut as he moved his hips, bending down so your bodies were closer together while he held himself up with one of his arms, the other one traveling back down between your legs. You craned your neck, nails scratching against Sam’s back as your hands moved up and down his frame. Sam let out an unrestrained moan, starting to pick up the pace.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, lips moving against his neck, nipping and sucking wherever you could while Sam rubbed at your clit, slipping in and out of your with ease. You mewled with approval, smirking against Sam’s neck when he panted out your name over and over.

“Fuck me,” Sam whispered, moving at a faster, more rough pace.

You smirked, catching his eye. “I thought I already was.”

Sam breathed out a laugh, dipping his head down. Your head fell back on one of the pillows, gasping as Sam kissed along your jaw, going further down and towards your chest. “Holy shit, Sam,” you moaned, tugging on his hair and making him grunt. “Baby, I-I━”

“I know, I know. Me too,” Sam panted, his hand keeping him propped up moving to touch the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing and lips falling open to create one of the most attractive expression’s Sam had ever seen on your face. Sam panted, watching you as he felt your clench around him, coming again. “Fuck, Y/N!”

Sam came moments later, head dropping as he let out a loud groan. He continued to slowly move and work you both through their orgasms, stopping after a few seconds. He picked his head back up, offering you a dazed smile as you gazed up at him with a tired grin. “Bet none of those old Men of Letters had this kind of fun on one of these beds,” you cheekily said, giggling as Sam chuckled on top of you.

“I doubt it,” Sam said in agreement, sitting up on his knees and slipping out of you. You let out a content sigh as Sam then stood up, removing the condom to throw it away before slipping his underwear back on. You turned your head and looked over at the floor in search of Sam’s flannel you’d stolen that morning, but all you spotted was your underwear and the shirt Sam had been wearing. You sat up from the bed and picked them up, carefully slipping on the shirt and then your underwear.

You sat on the edge of the bed, glancing over your shoulder to find Sam softly smiling at you. “What?” you asked with a soft laugh.

“Nothin’,” Sam happily answered. “I just, uh. . .I love you.”

You beamed and moved, crawling over the bed towards him where he was standing. You sat up on your knees, wrapping both of your arms around his shoulders as you gazed at him. “I love you too,” you said, pecking his lips. “Now, what do you say we finish breakfast?”

“I already had my breakfast,” Sam cheekily replied.

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes. “Very funny, Sam” you said, unraveling your arms from him to climb off the bed so you were standing in front of him. “I’m serious, though. I was kinda looking forward to some toast.”

Sam chuckled, faintly nodding his head. “All right, all right,” he said, starting to head for the dinner. “I still think my breakfast was better than toast.”

[kiki-shortsnout]

Hm, 11. sharing secrets for the intimacy prompts? With Tony and Stephen? Because I'm so curious what you'd make out of that. 🤍

‘So, this is normal then? The bunch of you hanging out like teenagers?’ Stephen asked after shutting the fridge door, pulling the cap off his beer with a spell.

‘Yeah, just a normal Saturday night….when we’re not fighting doom bots or trying to stop someone take over the world, kinda makes a change doesn’t it?’ Tony nudged him with an elbow, yanking out a bowl from the cupboard next to him to put the snacks into.

‘I have to say, when I used to think of the word Avengers, the lot of you hanging out in the tower talking about the best shade to paint your nails wasn’t what sprung to mind,’ Stephen spoke down to his bottle of beer.

Crumpling the chip packet up and tossing it towards the bin, Tony sighed as it hit the edge and bounced off onto the floor, frowning as it levitated by itself into the bin.

‘That’s cheating,’ Tony scoffed.

Stephen shrugged, smiling at him as he drank his beer.

Tony allowed himself to look, if only for a moment. Stephen Strange’s smiles were fleeting, rarely seen, and he treasured each of them, especially the ones that made the skin near his eyes wrinkle, dimples appearing in his cheeks.

Breathtaking.

‘Anyway,’ Tony shattered the thoughts by talking, waving away any of the fantasies he’d been having. ‘You forget that most of them didn’t have the chance to actually be a teenager. Steve was fighting in a World War, Clint was learning tricks at the circus, and don’t even get me started on what Nat’s been through,’ Tony rambled, shoving the bowl of chips into Stephen’s free hand.

‘And Thor?’

‘He’s an alien, asshole, he’s got no idea about Earth customs.’

Stephen made a noise of agreement, not moving even with the snacks in hand.

‘Go on through, I’ll be there in a minute.’ Tony tried to wave him away, still looking around for the Pop-Tarts.

‘I’ll wait,’ Stephen told him, the words said innocently enough, but the shuffling of his feet gave away his uncharacteristic shyness.

‘Do you want a Pop-Tart before Thor eats them all? I’ve got two different flavors, if I could find them,’ Tony muttered, trying to remember where he’d hidden them from the giant.

‘How long before they start playing truth or dare? or never have I ever?’ Stephen asked him, placing the bowl of chips down on the pristine ebony kitchen counter and grabbing a handful.

‘Don’t mention it to Nat, that’s like one of her go to games…I don’t want to hear about anything Clint’s done in his life again,’ Tony shuddered. ‘FRIDAY, where did I hide the Pop-Tarts?’

‘You hid them beneath the sink, behind the cleaning products. However, as Thor found those and ate them, I took the liberty of ordering some more. Miss Potts hid them inside the oven.’

‘Inside the oven?’ Stephen asked, munching on his handful of chips, orange cheese dust staining his long crooked fingers.

‘None of us ever cook,’ Tony rolled his eyes, waving his thanks to FRIDAY.

Stephen chuckled under his breath, the sound rich and melodic, making Tony stop and consider. Why would Stephen be hanging out here in the kitchen with him when everyone else was out in the living room? Why at all these social bonding events did Stephen stay close to him? It wasn’t as if Stephen was a timid wallflower, he spoke to the Avengers, joked with them, but it was Tony’s company he sought out.

‘Never have I ever painted my nails,’ Tony said hesitantly, keeping his back to Stephen.

‘I have once, lime green, wasn’t the most fetching of colors. Never have I ever cheated on a test,’ Stephen took up the conversation.

‘I’ve not cheated, but I once wrote down all the wrong answers to fail a test. Wanted to piss my dad off,’ Tony answered, opening the oven door and pulling the box of chocolate Pop-Tarts out. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, playing this with Stephen, but he loved the little slice of intimacy they’d created in the kitchen, a brief moment just for the two of them before they had to join in with the ruckus of the Avengers.

‘Never have I ever…’ He had to really think about it, not wanting to scare Stephen away, and trying to keep him interested at the same time. ‘Never have I ever hitchhiked,’ Tony decided on, moving around Stephen to grab the toaster, feeling the heat of the taller man radiating out through his thin shirt, his cologne. Stephen didn’t move, making Tony reach around him, deliberately brushing against each other.

‘I have, once to get out of Nebraska, my hometown.’

‘You’re from Nebraska?’ How had he not known that?

‘Hmm,’ Stephen agreed deep in his throat, watching as Tony wandered back over to his side of the kitchen to plug the toaster in. He could feel Stephen’s gaze on his back, feel it wander over his skin.

‘Never have I ever had feelings for someone in the other room,’ Stephen said cryptically.

‘Alright, I had a small crush on Thor and his bulging biceps. Come on, look at him,’ Tony laughed, shoving the Pop-Tarts in the toaster, finally turning to look at Stephen. ‘You said other room…not the tower.’

‘It’s your turn,’ Stephen told him, taking another mouthful of his beer and leaving the bottle on the side.

‘Never have I ever kissed someone called Stephen,’ Tony took the chance, careful with his choice of words, knowing he could fall back on the excuse that he hadn’t kissed Steve. They both had the same name after all.

‘Is that something you want to rectify?’ Stephen asked, his voice exquisitely sinful.

‘Dunno, should I go ask Steve?’ Tony countered, biting on the inside of his cheek at the sudden irritation on Stephen’s face.

‘Never have I ever had feelings for someone else before…’ Stephen whispered and Tony felt his heart stutter to a stop inside his chest, scared he’d made the wrong move, that he’d come on too strong.

‘Until now,’ Stephen finished his sentence, holding Tony’s gaze.

‘Never have I ever been a good boyfriend,’ Tony blurted, trying to take a step backwards despite the kitchen counter digging into his hips.

‘I don’t believe that,’ Stephen murmured, crossing the distance between them. ‘Never have I ever not meant something I’ve said,’ he told Tony once he was standing before him.

‘Stephen…I…never have I ever wanted to kiss someone more than right now.’

‘Good,’ Stephen told him, leaning down and pressing his lips gently to Tony’s. ‘Never have I ever been in love before,’ he whispered against Tony’s lips after he’d pulled away.

‘Whoo! Finally!’ Clint catcalled from the living room.

‘Thor you owe me twenty bucks!’ Nat crowed, clapping her hands.

‘I did not doubt their feelings for each other, but I did not think either would make a move for weeks to come,’ Thor grumbled.

Tony ignored them, still looking up at Stephen who was beginning to go pink in the cheeks from all the noise of the team.

‘Until now?’ he asked instead, referring to Stephen’s earlier never have I ever question.

‘Until now,’ Stephen agreed, closing his eyes to kiss Tony again.

[collectivefandomstuff]

Title: A Hindering Hand Type: Fanfic, crossposted to AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27270097) Status: Complete. Chapter: 1/1. Fandom: DC/Batman Rating: T Warnings: Language. Beta: No beta we die like Jason Todd and also Damian Pairings: None. Word Count: 4k+ Genre: Humour/Comedy Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne. Summary: When Dick is refused the opportunity to coddle Damian, he decides to lavish his other siblings with his questionably helpful assistance. They are palpably ungrateful.

Excerpt: Damian didn’t answer the first time, so Jason made use of his annoying gene(s) and called him over and over until he picked up. “Todd,” Damian snarled, “I am at school. I realise that you were incapable of finishing your formal education but-” “Your fucking Dick of a brother broke into my apartment and re-decorated my living room.” Jason informed him. 

”You have got to be kidding me.”

Jason stared at what used to be his perfectly clean kitchen; now a hollowed out shell of its former self. Cabinet doors were thrown open, his carefully organised supplies haphazardly shuffled around. Every single counter and parts of the floor was covered in flour, cocoa, and something wet and heretofore unidentified. He didn’t even want to look closer at the stove or the sink, both filled with sticky, clearly misused, pots and pans. There was a smell hanging in the air, the same one that had set his inner alarm bells off when he entered the apartment: burnt sugar and something that smelled suspiciously like rotten fruit. Jason took a deep breath to stop himself from just whipping out his guns and shooting at the mess. It would be cathartic, but ultimately unhelpful. Instead, he fished his phone out of his front pocket and thumbed through his contacts.

He got through two rings before the line opened.

“He got you too?” Tim said on the other end. His tone reminded Jason of Bruce, which was usually a clear indication that Tim was fucking done.

“How can he be this useless?” Jason ground out.

“He was raised by Alfred.”

“So was I. And you.” “Fine. He was spoiled by Bruce.” “uh-huh,” Jason agreed, daring to move into his living room. Thankfully, the carnage hadn’t spread there, though there was an oven pan, placed strategically in the middle of his coffee table. The contains looked like what Jason imagined “dubious food” in Zelda looked like in real life. “I have to stop hanging out with you,” he told Tim. “Why?” “I just made a video game reference in my head.” “Which game?” “Not the point.” “I mean-” Tim began, but before he got any further into arguing why the specific game was “of import” to the discussion -fucking dweeb -Jason cut him off: “I’m going to kill him.” Tim was quiet for a moment. “What did he do exactly?” “Hi Little Wing,” Jason recited from the note that had been stuck underneath his brand new fucking oven pan Dick you bastard that was expensive. “I made you some brownies!” Jason stopped to look closer at the brown sludge that he was pretty sure was stuck to the bottom of his new pan. Martha herself recommended it, Dick goddammit. “I hope they turned out all right! Don’t work too much! D.” There was a pause. “Did they turn out all right?” asked Tim. “No,” Jason gritted his teeth, “No, they did not.” “He’s really on a spree this week.” “Yeah?” Jason muttered absently, poking at the sludge with his gloved finger. It jiggled. Somehow, that made everything so much worse. “Mm,” Tim said, and Jason could hear the tapping of computer keys in the background which meant that he had about 30% of Tim’s attention. “He hit Cass and Steph a few days ago. I guess since Cass is staying there when she’s in town he thought it was two for one. Tried to do their laundry.” “Why haven’t they killed him?” “They’re working on big drug bust. So, no time.” “Well I have time.” Jason groused, already trying to reorganize his plans for the evening. He would need at least three hours to repair the damage Dick had done to his kitchen. “Good,” Tim said, his voice cold, “because so do I.” Jason stopped trying to figure out how many new appliances he would need to buy to focus for a moment. “What did he do to you?” Tim was silent for a long while, then: “He tried to clean my apartment.” Jason shuddered. On one hand, he understood the compulsion. His replacement’s usual idea “clean” was “nothing hazardous is currently growing somewhere”. Still, the only thing worse than Dick trying to clean was Bruce trying to clean. Or cook. Or do laundry. Or vacuum. The Batman he may be, but Jason had never met a more incompetent homemaker in his life. Once, Bruce had tried to dust a little and they had to call the fire department. “And?” He prompted. “He moved everything,” Tim said, deceptively calm, “and threw out at least thirty-four irreplaceable things.” Oh shit. There was a reason why Jason stomped down the urge to clean Tim’s apartment. He once moved an old magazine when the younger boy wasn’t even there and the next day he got received three upset calls and a computer virus for his trouble. “He re-organised my desk. My cases. My clues.” Tim continued to rattle off. “And he didn’t even manage to clean properly. I’m pretty sure he tried to scrub my TV with vinegar.” Jason bit his lip to keep from laughing. Looks like Tim got it worse. “Shut up,” said Tim grouchily. “I didn’t say anything.” “You were laughing at me.” How- Jason’s hand clenched around the phone. “I told you to stop putting cameras in my apartment.” Tim snorted. “So find them and take them down. Think of it as practice,” he said, lilting the word “practice” in the same way Bruce usually did. “You’re such a creeper.” “Says the murderous crime lord.” “At least I’m not a stalker.” “Have you checked your bottom cabinets yet?” Jason stilled at the sudden change of subject. “Why?” “Looks like the re-organising urge lived on.” Oh, he had better fucking not. Jason stepped back into his kitchen and, with the care of someone opening a bomb case, edged open the door to his pots- and pans cabinet. He came face to face with his toaster, nestled between a pasta drainer and three boxes of cereal that he had not owned this morning. It was the sugary shit too. “Son of a-” “I think he put your spatulas in the fridge,” Tim said cheerily. Jason was going to wring his little neck. Right after he had stomped on Dick until the unbridled rage in his chest went away. “This is why I don’t want any contact with this family for-” “You know why he’s doing this right?” Tim queried lightly. Jason frowned. “I don’t keep track of the family gossip, pretender. I have better things to do with my time.” Tim made an offended noise at being called “pretender”. “Fine. Then why don’t you try to make him stop and call me when he’s tried to clean your guns?” Jason rolled his eyes. The dramatics, honestly. Bruce 2.0. “Why is he doing this, Tim?” He asked reluctantly. Tim sniffed. “Damian told Dick that he wasn’t needed at the moment, which was the little brat’s way of trying to get Dick to take some time to de-stress, but obviously Dick took this to mean that Damian has cast him aside and considers him a bad parental figure.” Jason spent a good few seconds rethinking the whole “moving back to Gotham” idea. He could just… leave and never talk to this insane family ever again. It was entirely doable. Just, one little call to Roy and hasta la vista you absolute nutjobs. He sighed. “So we have to talk to the demon child?” He asked tiredly. “Yeah pretty much.” “I still think my first plan was better.” “If you kill Dick, the family will never leave you alone.” That was a surprisingly good point. Dammit. “Can I punch him a little?” “I’d encourage it.” “Hey,” said Jason suspiciously, “just what are you planning to do him exactly?” “Honestly?” Tim replied. “I’m going to send a false tip to the department of Agriculture, fabricate evidence, and make them recall his favourite cereal.” Jesus fucking Christ this family was a pizza bagel of crazy with a sociopath topping.

-

It took them a while to track down Robin during patrol, and when they managed to find him they were met with immediate resistance. Which, taking into consideration who they were, wasn’t all that surprising. “Calm down.” Red Hood said placatingly while he jumped out of range from Robin’s swords. “We just wanted to talk to you about N-” He dodged a batarang that was clearly aimed at his throat. Add psychopath topping to that pizza bagel. “Would you knock it off,” Red Robin snarled, spinning out of the way when Robin spun to aim a kick at his stomach. Hood seized the opportunity and darted in to restrain the tiny beast that, let’s be real, was absolute proof that Bruce should not be allowed to procreate. Robin thrashed in his hold for a good three minutes before he finally settled down, glaring murderously at Red. “What do you want?” Robin spat. Even when Hood could feel him literally vibrating with supressed rage, he still kept perfect syntax. No abbreviations here. Little freak. “We need you to call N,” Red said. He looked a little ruffled and more than a little miffed. “I will do no such thing,” Robin sniffed. “Think again,” Hood said in his ear, letting his voice drop into a menacing tone. “Look,” Red Robin said. His hair was sticking up at the back after the struggle and he looked real fed up with this. Hood could relate. “N is running himself ragged trying to prove he’s a good parent or something and you need to make him quit before he injures himself.” Robin stilled. “What would Grayson be doing that would cause him such stress?” “He’s cooking,” Hood drawled. “And cleaning,” Red added. Robin’s whole body tensed. “I will take care of it.” He declared imperiously. Hood looked at Red, who shrugged. Yeah, good enough, I guess.

-

It was not good enough, he guessed, Jason realised as he took in what used to be his living room, but was now a cut out of a living room no one would ever willingly ”live” in from Garishly Tasteless Designs Magazine. He had his phone up and dialling before his eyes had even swept up the full length of the dirt-yellow curtains. It took a while to get the full effect of them, because he kept getting distracted by the frills and the suspiciously Nightwing-esque pattern. “Yeah?” Tim answered on the other end of the line. His voice said he was knee deep in something and wasn’t really paying attention. Probably his revenge plan, which Jason was seeing in a whole new light right now. “He redecorated.” Jason’s voice was so low it was almost a growl. There was a pause. “It didn’t stop?” Tim sounded much more alert and aware this time. “No it did I just went out and bought this lime green couch myself from Blind, Bath and Beyond,” Jason snapped. He heard Tim groan into the receiver. “But we even talked to Damian,” his replacement whined. Like he had anything to complain about. His living room didn’t have- was that a fucking Billy the Bass? Jason was going to shove his guns so far- “I’m calling the brat,” Jason ground out before hanging up and redialling. Damian didn’t answer the first time, so Jason made use of his annoying gene(s) and called him over and over until he picked up. “Todd,” Damian snarled, “I am at school. I realise that you were incapable of finishing your formal education but-” “Your fucking Dick of a brother broke into my apartment and re-decorated my living room.” Jason informed grimly. “He- you must be mistaken.” “Look, kid, there aren’t a lot of things I know, what with my not completing my formal education and all, but if there is one thing I will never unlearn it’s how to spot Dick Grayson’s fucking taste in fabrics.” “I see.” No, you little shit. You don’t see. Jason was the one who was cursed with seeing this absolute monstrosity of a- was that crystal?! “You said you were handling it,” Jason reminded him, firmly putting his back to the living room. Looking at it was bad for his blood pressure. “I do not understand.” Damian said seriously. “I specifically told Grayson to stop bothering you and go back to Blüdhaven where he could be of use.” Oh. Oh Damian. Jason resisted the urge to smack the phone into his face. Sometimes Damian’s age and social inexperience really shone through. Jason took a deep breath to keep from screaming. “Listen, Damian.” Jason said carefully. “Dick is feeling a little neglected right now, and what he needs, what we asked you to do, was to start hanging out with him again.” “-tt-” Damian was probably rolling his eyes. Jason could have Tim check later, he was sure the little creep had cameras in every building in the city. “That is preposterous!” “No,” Jason said dangerously, “it’s not. So now would you just call him and tell him you need help with your homework or something?” It was truly a testament to Jason’s level of desperation that he was willing to be this nice and patient. “Grayson needs to rest-” “Just FUCKING CALL HIM!!” Ok, so there was a limit to that patience. Oh well, he was only human. Damian, however, apparently thought that this was one indignity too far because the call disconnected. Jason glanced behind him and immediately regretted it. Porcelain figurines. Oh, how he missed the days when he was a big-name villain, and the only thing Dick did was fight him. In the corner, a cuckoo clock struck seven and a tiny robin popped out and chirped at him. Jason’s vision blurred with sickly green for a moment. Yeah, he was staying in a safe house tonight.

-

It took for days of no progress and Tim having his entire coffee-stash replaced with decaf (“cheap decaf, Jason. Low-level, buy in bulk decaf.”) before they threw in the towel and went to the manor. The estate looked as menacing to him now as it had when Jason first saw it as a little kid from Crime Alley. It probably always would, no matter how many times he was back. If Tim was feeling apprehensive, it didn’t show. He just looked grumpy, like a particularly displeased cat. His replacement rapped his knuckles on the door and stepped back to cross his arms, frowning. He looked very intimidating. Like a squirrel with an anger management problem. The door swung open to reveal Steph, dressed in a t-shirt that Jason was pretty sure wasn’t supposed to be a splotchy pale blue. Her jeans looked new. “He’s not here,” Steph told them in a biting tone. “Who?” Tim asked. “Dick. Though for the record we have to come up with a new name for him because ‘Dick’ is going to be real ironic soon.” And whoa, Steph did know how to look properly intimidating. “What’d he do?” Jason asked her. Stephanie stepped back to let them inside. “There was an incident with a waffle iron,” she said icily. “He tried to cook?” Tim guessed, taking off his shoes. “He tried to laminate.” Steph corrected. Tim grimaced. “Is Damian here?” Steph snorted. “Damian is useless. We need to strike back.” She lowered her voice, her eyes cold. “And strike hard.” Damn, if this continued, Dick wouldn’t even be allowed back into Gotham. Actually, yeah he would. Only Batman could bar people from entering Gotham, apparently. Because Bruce was only one with any rights around here, that fucking- He was getting off subject. Also, not paying attention. “-alking to Dick,” Tim was saying, “trying to talk to him is a good way to make this worse.” “I wasn’t suggesting we talk to him.” Steph said, cracking her knuckles. Tim looked unimpressed, which frankly impressed Jason a little. Stephanie was scary. Not Batman scary but- Hang on. “Hang on,” Jason said, holding his hand up for emphasis, “Batman is the only one who can bar someone from coming to Gotham.” “What the hell is your point, zombie boy?” Steph asked, crossing her arms. “We don’t need to redirect Dickies attention back to Damian. We just need to redirect it. To someone.” Jason grinned at them and it probably only looked about 30% insane. “Someone with the power to stop him.” Understanding dawned on Stephanie and Tim’s faces. “Someone who deserves to have his clothes ruined,” Steph whispered reverently. “Someone who has time to redecorate because he doesn’t have a job,” Tim added gleefully, “someone who flounces into board meetings too late and does nothing.” “Exactly.”

-

Tracking down Nightwing turned out to be the easiest thing they’d had to do so far. He didn’t even try to avoid them. “Hey guys!” N smiled cheerily at them as if he hadn’t spent the last two weeks putting them through some kind of Donna Reed inspired psychological torture. “Nightwing.” Red Robin greeted coldly and, yeah, in costume the replacement could totally pull off intimidating. “Whoa, what’s with the murder faces?” Nightwing said, stepping off the ledge he’d been standing on and walking closer. Hood crossed his arms. “You’ve been busy lately,” he commented and even the helmet couldn’t filter away the unvoiced insult at the end. “I guess?” N replied. “Did you like the brownies?” Hood tried to remember that they weren’t here to beat him senseless. Based on Spoiler’s clenched fists it seemed like he wasn’t the only one struggling with that. “N,” Red Robin said with the calm voice he usually reserved for interrogating suspects, “we appreciate you trying to… help us.” On “help us” Red’s voice broke through the calm and straight into “I’m going to kill you and bury you in store-brand decaf coffee” territory. “But we really are doing fine on our own.” Nightwing pursed his lips. “You are all working so hard-” he started, but Red cut him off. “Yes, and that’s why we appreciate it. But we’re actually worried about someone else, who needs your help a lot more than we do.” Nightwing paused and Hood could almost see the gears in his head whirring. “Who? Damian?” “Not Damian,” Red said, because they all knew it wouldn’t work to say it was Damian, “B.” Nightwing crossed his arms. “You think B needs help?” And here was the fragile part of their plan. Hood cleared his throat. “B,” he said, trying to keep his tone civil, “works himself to the bone and he doesn’t accept help from any of us.” “He has Alfie though,” N argued. “Alfie is busy taking care of Damian, since you’re not helping him as much anymore.” Spoiler rebutted. And damn, blondie, good answer. “We struggle too,” Red said, “but we help each other, right guys?” “Uh-huh,” Spoiler agreed. “Right.” Hood lied, thankful that the helmet veiled his eyeroll. “You guys help each other out,” Nightwing said with obvious disbelief. “You.” “Red is always helping me with cases,” Spoiler said, “and studies and stuff too. And I help him with staying alive and acting like a human.” Red nodded. “And Red and I work together on cases,” Hood said truthfully. “And sometimes Hood makes sure I eat and stuff,” Red added, “and I help him with security.” “They also hang out and play video games and watch nerdy movies,” Spoiler revealed. The little snitch. “Really?” Nightwing said, looking between the three of them. “That’s great!” He shuffled around a little. “So, you guys don’t need me either, huh?” Oh god. Oh dear god it was the voice. The patented Richard Grayson sad-and-feeling-neglected voice. The voice that could inspire shame and guilt in the most hard boiled criminal. At least he was wearing the mask so he couldn’t give them the accompanying puppy eyes. “Well,” Spoiler said and Hood could see her wavering. She didn’t have the years of experience needed to withstand Dick’s manipulation. “But B does!” Tim exclaimed, dragging Spoiler to stand behind him. Good move. “And the little brat too, even though he doesn’t admit it.” Hood added. Nightwing bit his lip. “Look,” Red’s voice was genuine now, “we all really do appreciate it, but B and Dami need your help more. And frankly, the last time I saw B he looked dead on his feet. We’re all good. But he isn’t. He sleeps less than I do.” Maybe that was even true. Huh. Were they doing B a solid here? Wait, no. No they weren’t. It was recommended by Martha, Dick you absolute menace. “Ok, I hear you.” N said solemnly. “I just wanted to help out.” Martha. Think about Martha. “We know,” Red said, patting N on the back. It was really awkward. “Did I tell you B has started eating power bars for dinner?” “Wait, seriously?” Nightwing looked disturbed. “That’s so bad for you.” “Yeah,” Hood said as if he hadn’t watched Red do that at least three dozen times, “he’s really setting a bad example for li’l D, isn’t he?” He thought Red might have done the wave if he could have. Hood certainly wanted to give himself the wave for that stroke of genius. “Okay, I know you guys are manipulating me,” Nightwing told them drily. Shit. “But you have a point.” Oh thank Jesus. N stretched. “Well,” he said, “I’m going to make sure B doesn’t kill himself. And yes, I’ll stop helping you guys.” He shook his head. “You three should really open up more, you know?” They nodded, because at this point they would do anything to make him stop “helping out”. Red cleared his throat. “So, good luck, uhm...” Nightwing grinned. “I’ll stop, but you all have to give me a hug before I leave.” Fuck. N pounced on Red like a jaguar on a gazelle, completely ignoring the scandalised (and very undignified) “meep” Red let out. Hood turned around, ready to make a run for it. “If you leave before a hug I’ll make you dinner next time!” Nightwing called cheerfully, still holding onto Red Robin like he was a life vest. Triple fuck. Hood sighed. The things you do to not have your living room secretly re-decorated.

-

As awful as it was to get cuddled by Nightwing, it was all worth it about a week later, when Tim climbed in through his living room window for their bi-weekly movie night. This week: when the great go bad- The Godfather 3, X-Men: The Last Stand, and Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions. “I see you got rid of the ruffles,” Tim remarked. “You didn’t see that on your stalker cam?” “I’ve been busy watching Bruce lately.” “Oh?” Jason prompted, putting the pizza boxes on the coffee-table. “He tried to call me five times today,” Tim said. He walked over and got two beers out of the fridge. Jason sniggered. “It’s that bad?” “He’s only got one target now. B is about to break.” “Tell me more, tell me more,” Jason said, making himself comfortable on his new -fucking stylish thank you very much -couch. “Like, did he do something to his car?” “I can’t believe you just made a Grease reference, you absolute nerd,” Tim commented flatly. “Musicals are cool,” Jason told him. Because it was true and he would fight anyone who said otherwise. “Was Olivia Newton John your childhood crush or something?” “Who’s to say it wasn’t Travolta?” Tim gave him a deadpan stare. “Because,” he said drily, “unlike Dick, you actually have taste.” Jason mulled that over. “Touché." He shrugged. "Now tell me about B.” Tim looked up from where he was connecting his computer to the TV and grinned sharply. “You want to experience what the Germans call ‘Schadenfreude’?” “Hell yeah I do.” Tim hit a key on his laptop and the Cave flickered into view on Jason’s TV. At least, he thought it was the cave. “Is that?” “He re-decorated the cave.” Tim laughed. It was not a nice laugh. Jason approved. On the screen, Bruce had just entered through the door to the storage area and was making his way to the computer. Trailing after him with a plate of questionable looking sandwiches was Dick. Jason nabbed a beer from the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. “Oh we are so watching this tonight. Sofia can wait.” “I made a compilation of the past week,” Tim said smugly, picking up the other beer and folding himself into Jason’s new armchair. It was beige and, most importantly, neither pea-green nor suede. On screen Bruce collapsed into his new, avant-garde office chair and put his head in his hands while Dick chatted pleasantly in his ear. “You know,” Tim said thoughtfully while Dick re-arranged Bruce’s files, “sometimes I think he’s being purposefully bad at this.” “Why?” “Oh just,” Tim reached for the pizza and Jason handed him the box, “whenever he starts doing this, we all have to interact with each other to make him stop. Like how you and I only started hanging out to begin with because he kept breaking into our safe houses to make ‘breakfast’. Well, that and that time he gave you a haircut in you sleep.” Jason stilled with his beer halfway to his mouth. “He…” Oh god. “That’s totally what he’s doing isn’t it?” Tim looked at him over his slice of pepperoni. “Yeah, probably.” Jason slammed his bear down on the table. “THAT SNEAKY FUCKING BASTARD!” Jason glared at Tim, the proof of Dick's successful manipulation. He didn't even like the replacement. Why the hell was he hanging out with him? Stupid, meddling big brothers who ruin your life. "It's okay," Tim reached over and patted his hand, "I just confirmed that they're taking his cereal off the shelves this week." And yeah, that made it a little better, actually. "I still don't like you." He told Tim. "I know. Wanna watch Bruce find out that Dick redid his wardrobe?" "Yeah ok," Jason grumbled. Maybe, he admitted to himself only, the replacement wasn't all bad. The screen zoomed in on Bruce's expression as he came face to face with a sequined suit. Yeah, Jason thought, taking another sip of beer, not all bad.

[mourntheantagonist]

El goes over to Steve’s to get out of the cabin for a little bit and they have pizza and board games and stuff.. so Steve’s house is a little messy so Steve’s dad comes home earlier then expected he freaks bc he can’t see el here so he goes upstairs and puts her in his room and his dad is pissed at the mess so basically el overhears how much of an ass his dad is :,)

tear my heart in half why don’t you?

ok but seriously, could I have just written a short and sweet ficlet on this gorgeous headcanon? yeah. do I have self control? no.

that is why instead I present to you a 6.3k deep dive

also on ao3

****

It’s just a little thing the two of them have going for them. El hated being left alone in the empty cabin when Hopper was on duty and would often sneak out to the Wheeler’s for some company. Usually it was fine. Mike would let her in through the basement door and she’d always made sure to be back before Hop. Usually hitching a ride on the back of Mike’s bike. It was a pretty perfect system. Hopper never found out and she got to get away from the lonely woods for at least a couple hours.

Until one time they weren’t home and Mike wasn’t answering on the walkie. it was cold out and dark and she wasn’t prepared to make the long walk back to the cabin. But she did anyway. Shivering as she tried to forget that her powers still weren’t working quite right. Trying to forget the fact that she was defenseless.

That’s when Steve had pulled up beside her in the beemer. Headlights bright in her eyes, only recognizing him once the lights went out and she could see him through the windshield.

Steve was safe. One of the few people she was told she could trust, despite Mike showing his own disdain for the guy. But she was told that was only because he dated Nancy, and he didn’t like Jonathan either for that very reason. So she trusted Steve. Felt a wave of relief wash over her when he pulled up beside her from where she was walking on Randolph Way.

He rolled down his window with the crank and stuck his head outside. The quick change from hot to cold biting his nose, making it run.

“It’s past nine, El. What are you doing out here? How did you get out here?”

El shrugged her shoulders. Rubbing her hands against her arms to generate some heat to combat the cold from the Indiana night air. “Walked. Came to see Mike.” She said. The words coming out with a breath that was visualized by a misty cloud as vapor froze.

“He wasn’t home?”

She shook her head. Arms still crossed over her chest, hands now tightly gripping the flannel she stole from Hopper’s closet. A calming mechanism she’d use when she felt like she was in trouble. A way of protecting her palms from her sharp and jagged fingernails because she had a habit of biting them when she was scared, which came more often now that her powers were only functioning at a ten percent capacity.

Steve didn’t have to think for very long before telling her to get in, and that he’d take her home.

He turned the heat up to the highest setting, and pulled out a blanket he had stored underneath his seat. Handed it over to her because he could see her lips had begun to turn to a bluish color. Steve spared her the talk about how she needed to be more careful. He wasn’t her Dad or her babysitter, even though he kind of was at times. But she was just a teenager who wanted to see her boyfriend, he did the same thing when he was her age, and still does it now. He figured he could leave that conversation up to her Dad, even if he suspected it wouldn’t do much to curb said behavior.

Instead they said nothing to each other the whole drive to the cabin, aside from words of direction since he had never navigated the path in the dark before. El never talked much in most situations, so it wasn’t weird.

When he pulled up, he noticed Hopper’s Blazer was unmistakably missing from the premises, and there was no light indicating anyone lived there other than the singular bulb hanging from their front porch that looked to be only days away from burning out. He waited for El to get out of his car and head inside, but she didn’t. She just sat there in his passenger seat with the blanket pulled up high enough so it covered her nose and mouth. Still and unmoving, staring at the front door that was illuminated by the dying light source with a pained expression evident in her light brown eyes.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks, with hesitation clear in the way his voice cracks with a whispered tone. The dead silence of the empty forest creating an unnerving tension that made them both feel like just the sound of a pin dropping to the floor could set something off.

She heaved a sigh, the shakiness clear. “Could you stay? Until Hop gets home?”

She didn’t have to explain it to Steve. Just looking at the Cabin gave him the same feeling that looking at his own house did. Empty and abandoned and lonely. That’s why he was out driving that night. He had no destination other than anywhere but his house. He hated the way the floorboards creaked so loud in the silence and echoed around the house. Didn’t like the way he could hear the sounds of water droplets dripping from the bathroom sink from all the way upstairs. Didn’t like the solitary feeling of it all. Not even a ghostly presence to keep him company. Just him and his thoughts. Never a good combination.

So he agreed. Turning the key and shutting off the car, flipping off the headlights and following her inside. He liked El, and it was much better than going back to his vacant home on the outskirts of Hawkins.

He’d never been inside before. The only times he’d ever come by was to drop off Dustin and the rest of the party when El was still on probation from leaving the Cabin. For those he’d never leave the comfort of his drivers seat.

El flipped on the lights and he was greeted by a sight juxtaposed from the outside’s appearance. The outside looked abandoned. Rusted and worn. Moss growing on the roof, breaks in the wooden steps leading up to the porch, unmanicured ground covered in rotting leaves from the previous Fall. The inside, however, was lively. Sure, it still looked a little run down and had the rustic feel to it, but it looked like a home. Warm and cozy, messy with different books strewn across the floor, clothes hung on the backs of chairs, vinyl records stacked haphazardly next to the turntable. The sink was full of dishes that needed to be done, a laundry basket full of clothes that needed to be folded. It was clear that someone lived here. Like really lived here. Not like his house which was always kept clean and proper. Fancy decorations cluttered the halls, carpets were vacuumed and floors were swept. Steve never got behind on doing his dishes or laundry because there was never much for him to do with it only being the product of one person. And what else was he supposed to do to occupy his time? He preferred the sound of the running water or the rattle of the laundry machine or the loud hum of the vacuum cleaner as it picked up debris over the echoes of his own thoughts. He had to keep it clean anyway because his parents always came home without warning, and always expected the house to look just as pristine as they left it. So the house always looked more like a museum filled with expensive art and less like a home with dirty dishes and crumbs on the floor that indicated proper use.

He felt a warm feeling inside the cabin. Feeling the coziness radiate through him as he sat down on the couch. Rips in the upholstery, beer stained cushions. Comfortable. Like sitting on a cloud.

El was in the kitchen, rummaging through the freezer, he assumed she was just hungry. Maybe she had been expecting to eat at Mike’s house. He always did save her some leftovers just in case. He’d done so for all three hundred fifty two days she was “missing” and continued even after she was found.

He looked through the books that were scattered all over the floor as she did her thing. Noticing books his parents used to read him when he was little. Many of them by Dr. Suess. The Lorax, Green eggs and Ham. Some “I Can Read” books that looked to be well below her level, and several books he didn’t recognize at all like “Alexander the Magical Mouse”. She must have liked that one a lot considering the spine had been creased and torn and the edges were folding in.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden sound of the pop of the toaster oven. Hearing the slight sizzle of whatever had been cooking.

He turned around to see Eleven carrying two plates with Eggos on them. Already coated in butter and syrup, holding one out to him.

“I made you some.” It’s the first thing she’s said since they’d walked through the door. She wasn’t shy, she just didn’t talk a lot, having only ever been allowed to speak if she had something important to say, often going hours or even days without even having anyone to say those things to. It was no wonder she didn’t want to be alone in that cabin.

He took a seat with her at their little table. Big enough for just two people, perfect for just El and Hopper, and perfect for just the two of them now. He could tell the seat he was sitting in was typically the seat Hopper sat at. The table had cigarette burns on only that side, and he knew those didn’t come from El. Her side of the table had clear indication of someone who used a lot of syrup. Dried maple drops stuck to the wood. He dug into his waffles, which looked to have been cooked to perfection. Golden brown with a nice crunch as he cut off a piece with the side of his fork. She looked up at him and smiled before shoving a large bite into her mouth. Nearly half a waffle’s worth. Syrup escaped past her lips as she closed her mouth around the fork, sticking to the outside of her cheeks.

“You got a little.” He gestured to his own cheek, tapping it twice.

She stifled a laugh with her mouth full and wiped away at it with her sleeve.

It was nice seeing her laugh. El had a smile that brightened up a whole room. The one thing about her that not many people had, you know, aside from the whole ‘having powers’ thing, was that she said what she meant, and she meant what she said. You never had to worry about her faking a smile for your benefit, or worry about her lying to you. She was honest even if that sometimes got her into trouble. So when she smiled at him and laughed, he knew she was happy. Happy he was there, and so was he.

Before she stuffed a second bite into her mouth, still chewing the remnants of the first, they could hear the roar of a familiar engine. Headlights beginning to peek through the gaps in the curtains. El didn’t seem nearly as on edge as he was that Hopper was home. Steve was in his house. Uninvited. Okay he was invited by El, but not by Hopper and that’s what mattered more, right?

Steve wasn’t necessarily scared of Hopper per se. But he definitely tried to avoid being on his bad side at all costs.

But hey, it’s not like Steve had done anything wrong. On the contrary. He kind of rescued her, not that she really needed it. She survived months during Hawkins winter out on her own in the woods. But the point was, he should thank him.

At least Hopper should recognize Steve’s beemer out front so when he opens the door to his house Steve’s presence isn’t a total surprise. Like he won’t walk in guns blazing at the intruder who’s in his house with his daughter.

Okay should he be worried?

Luckily for Steve, Hopper walks through the door with his gun securely in his holster and sans a look of rage. More so a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here kid?”

El gives him a pointed look. Almost like she’s trying to use her mind powers on him. Get him to not tell Hopper that she was out by herself after nine at night in the cold… to see her boyfriend.

But here’s the thing. Steve likes El. He really does. But he’s far more terrified of what Hopper might do to him if he lies to his face about Eleven’s whereabouts.

He gives her a look back. An apologetic one.

“She was out wandering in the cold so I brought her back home. Decided to stay until you arrived.” Steve decided to leave out the part about her going to Mike’s house. Figured that’s better left unsaid.

Hopper pursed his lips. Nodding his head with his arms crossed, clearly trying to keep himself from yelling. He’s gotten better about that lately.

El is once again gripping the cloth of the flannel she is wearing tightly. Bowing her head and squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“Why did you go out El?” Hopper asks. His voice was a strained kind of calm. A calm that if you pushed slightly too far could easily go away.

“I don’t like being here alone. Not after everything.”

Oh yeah. Everything.

Everything being Starcourt. Those painful couple of days when she didn’t even know where he was while the rest of the world was falling apart in front of her. Those several hours before he finally emerged from under the Russian base below the mall. Hours without hearing from him, not even a confirmation that he was alive. And no way to confirm it for herself with her powers completely drained. All she could get was a black void. She couldn’t see anything at all.

Steve got a similar feeling. He’d experienced loneliness before. But nothing like when he was trapped in that room with those Russian guards. Beating the ever living shit out of him and no matter what he did or said, it wouldn’t stop until he was completely unconscious. The unconsciousness coming much later than he’d hoped it would. He could still sometimes feel his eye twitch with phantom pains from the damage done that night. He recognized it very distinctly from the memories of previous black eyes he’s received in the somehow two fights he’s lost. He also understands the feeling of dread that she felt when she didn’t know where Hopper was. He had that same feeling with Erica and Dustin. Not knowing whether they made it out alive. Had the same dread with Robin. Feeling her back pressed up against his as they were tied up in chairs and threatened with torture, knowing he was the one who brought her into all of this. Knowing that whatever happens to her is blood on his hands. That point where he had to make a quick decision and slam his car into the side of Billy.

Billy.

Feeling the shockwaves pass through him. His head jerk forward upon impact. Watching as the Camaro burst into flames in a blinding blaze. That moment of not knowing whether or not he survived the crash, not knowing if that was a good or bad thing, and not even having the time to even think about it before he’s piling into the back of the Wheeler’s station wagon and driving away from the mall.

So yeah, Steve got it.

Hopper’s face fell into a frown and he decided not to press the issue further.

“We’ll talk about it later. Finish up your waffles and get ready for bed. I’ll walk Steve out.” Hopper said. Wiping at his nose and taking off his hat and hanging it on the hook by the door.

El finished her waffles rather quickly. She practically inhaled the contents of her plate. Not sparing a moment of time before shoving another piece into her mouth. Messy enough making it clear that the syrup stains on the table were most definitely her doing. Steve finished up his own and promptly followed Hopper out onto the porch after putting his dirtied plate into the sink of dirty dishes.

“Thanks for bringing her home, son. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, chief.”

“You wanna smoke?” Hopper asks, pulling a pack and lighter out from his shirt pocket and pulling one out, offering it up for Steve to take.

This was definitely weird. Smoking with adults. Hopper nonetheless. Sure he was of age, but that didn’t make it any less weird.

He accepted the cigarette anyway, because it was cold and god he could really use one right about now. He let Hopper light it up for him and he took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs creating a burning sensation he grew to enjoy. It almost functioned as proof that he was a living human being. Feeling as the damage was done to his internal organs, reminder that he was alive. Not lost to the void he felt like he drifted into so often.

“So what are you doing right now? You graduated right?”

“Yup.” Steve replied. Popping the ‘p’. As if basically scraping by the G.P.A. decent enough to walk across that podium was something to celebrate. His father most certainly didn’t think so.

“College?”

And that was the reason why. He couldn’t get an acceptance letter from anywhere. Not even the schools that supposedly accepted everyone and didn’t even send out rejection letters. Steve was living breathing proof that they did.

“No. Working mornings at Family Video.” He tried to say it with at least a little pride. Like, hey, at least he wasn’t a total bum living off his parents dime. At least he was doing something with his life. Even if that something was a dead end job in a dead end town.

“It’s honest work, kid. Good for you. College ain’t for everyone. I most certainly wasn’t cut out for it.” Hopper tightly gripped his shoulder and shook him a bit. In a way that seemed fatherly while also being a way his own father never interacted with him.

And god that statement felt good to hear. That acknowledgment and validation that Steve wasn’t just wasting his life away at that job. Validation for his hard work and attempt at bettering himself. Felt good, especially coming from someone so accomplished as him. Steve could only smile, unable to come up with any worthy response to that.

“So mornings. What’s your availability like in the evenings?”

“Typically free. Sometimes I get called out to cover for the night shift, but that doesn’t happen often. Why?”

Hopper put out his cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the porch ledge.

“Well, it would be nice having someone watch El when I’m patrolling at night. I don’t like leaving her here alone, and now I know she doesn’t like it either. And I’d rather her spend that time with you than Mike.” The way he says the name like it’s a slur almost has Steve laughing.

Okay look. Steve didn’t really tell the whole truth right there. His house isn’t always empty. He’s not always free. But it’s best he didn’t divulge that information to a man with a gun in the middle of the woods.

Instead he said yes. Because he wasn’t her babysitter, but he might as well be.

And he also had no idea how to say no to Hopper. Another thing you wouldn’t want to say to a man with a gun in the middle of the woods.

That was how it started. Hopper randomly calling up his house and calling him over to the cabin. Sometimes just choosing to drop her off at his house instead because he didn’t have the time to circle back. Luckily those times he didn’t have the company of a very recognizable blue Camaro parked in his driveway. And eventually everything became routine. Figuring out the patterns of Hopper’s work schedule so he was better prepared for those surprise visits. Eventually telling Hop to just keep bringing her over to his because it was on the way to the station and safer for the rest of the kids to travel to for the occasional hangouts he begrudgingly chaperoned.

Hopper did eventually catch them red handed. Or more accurately, with his pants down. He didn’t hear the phone ring and it was instead the honk of his horn that pulled the two from their current distraction. No point in trying to hide what they were doing with an elaborate lie as soon as Hopper yelled from outside “Harrington. Hargrove. Pull your damn pants up and get out here!”

They couldn’t be that loud. Could they?

Steve didn’t even want to entertain that thought.

When they did the walk of shame out the front door, heads bowed and arms crossed over themselves, Hopper was standing there with his hands on his hips. A stance that looked almost ridiculous on him, but also struck enough fear in the two of them that it silenced their laughs.

“Sorry.” Is all Steve could say. Unable to even look him in the eyes. Focusing his attention on El who sat in the passenger seat of the Blazer. Looking entirely confused. Good. She should be.

“No. No. My fault. I should have called. Uh, you still up for watching El tonight?” Hopper’s eyes darted between the two boys. They were all very uncomfortable in this current situation, and they were all equally desperate for the conversation to come to an end.

Billy looked over at Steve, both faces matching with the same kind of confusion. Distinctly different confusion than the look that washed over El’s face.

“Uh. Yeah I can go home, he can watch her.” Billy said, already moving his feet to leave.

“You don’t have to go. Hell, it’d be nice having someone who has actually won a fight around her.”

“Hey! I’ve won a fight.” Steve interjects, earning a small chuckle out of Billy.

“I didn’t see it. Doesn’t count.” Steve scoffs at the reply. “Anyway, point is, he can stay if he wants. Just no funny business if you don’t mind.”

Billy and Steve both blush simultaneously and nod their heads a little too aggressively. “Yes sir.” Says Billy.

Hopper tips his hat at the boys who are both just standing there stunned and trying to figure out if they just had a near death experience or not. Not before long El is getting out of the car and Hopper’s pulling out of the driveway and suddenly his house feels 300% fuller.

Billy stays sometimes for her visits now, but they don’t make too much of a habit of it. Still concerned about how the nature of their relationship looks to have a young girl in their presence. It’s wrong and stupid, but most people were nowadays. Despite Hopper’s insistence on being okay with it, they couldn’t put that much trust in people.

Except for maybe El. That girl he would trust with his life. No questions asked.

It took awhile for her to actually get what was going on. Not that they were together in the first place, that part she deduced pretty quickly. It was more so the reason that they were so private about it that she didn’t get. She didn’t get why she couldn’t tell Max or the party or anyone else for that matter. They’d constantly brush it off with an “it’s complicated” because they didn’t find joy in telling this sweet and innocent girl how terrible the world could be. But to El it was perfectly simple. Billy and Steve love each other like El and Mike love each other. Easy, straightforward. When they finally explained it to her, how “stupid people don’t think two men should be able to love each other” they could see the anger clear on her face. Veins popping out on her forehead and a red tint forming beneath the skin on her face. They explained how people might go as far as to hurt them if they found out. Her face only got redder and the clench of her fists only grew tighter.

“Bad people.” She called them.

They would just nod their heads in agreement.

“Does that mean Max and Mike and everyone else are bad people? Because I can’t tell them?”

That was a hard question to answer. A question that they tried to avoid thinking about yet always seemed to be at the back of their minds. Because they might be. And that was scary to think about. Steve liked to think that Dustin wouldn’t look at him any differently, the same with Billy about Max. They thought highly enough of them that they never liked to entertain the thought that they could potentially be “bad people.” But there was always the potential that they could.

Still they answered with a no. Because even if they did end up being “bad people” they weren’t bad people. “I don’t think they are,” Steve started. “But the more people that find out, the higher the chance some really bad people might find out. It’s safer to keep the bubble small. Is that okay?”

El nodded in agreement, and the three of them quickly went back to what they were doing like they didn’t just have a really deep conversation. It was scrabble. Thought it might be a more fun way of teaching El new words instead of just shoving a book into her face. She seemed to enjoy it, and was able to come up with some surprisingly long words. A huge grin popped onto her face when she was able to spell out the word “compromise.”

“Hop taught me that one.”

Eighteen points.

Nobody expected it to be Billy who was trying to pass off made up words.

But for the most time, it was just Steve and El. No party get together’s. No Billy. Just the two of them, pizza delivery, board games and movies. And it was honestly a blast.

Steve never thought it would be so much fun to make a mess like this. Paper plates scattered across the floor along with loose puzzle pieces and an array of VHS tapes strewn in front of the TV so they were easier to look through. Usually when something was out of place, Steve felt an overwhelming need to put it back. To keep things clean, neat, and tidy. That’s how he was raised. Vases dusted, dishes cleaned, laundry folded and put away. But he was behind on laundry and the only reason his sink wasn’t full was because he’d been eating off disposables since El wandered into his every day. Which reminded him. The trash needed to be taken out yesterday.

Usually the chaos would have him losing his mind. Like the way it did when he first snuck into Billy’s bedroom and was met with dozens of beer cans everywhere the eye could see. Hamper piled high with dirty laundry, and that was just what made it into the basket. And god it reeked of smoke and teenage boy. Like the combination of a wrestling mat and a casino. He had actual car parts sitting in his closet that he’d stolen from the junkyard. His room was a junkyard. But he’d never tell him that. Just kindly suggest that perhaps he wipe down some surfaces with disinfecting wipes because there are definitely some eradicated diseases living freely underneath his bed where he could see a large collection of socks. Yeah. He knew what those were.

But this was a mess he could handle. It wasn’t a hotel for rats like Billy’s room was. It was more like how he described Hopper’s cabin. Lived in. Proof that there were people having a good time and living there. Finally getting the living room to live up to its title. When he looked out across the mess of food and games and the fallen down fort they attempted to build, the word home started to feel like an apt word to describe the place. It felt like it was his and not like just some place he slept at night or the place he parked his car and had his paycheck sent to.

He’d be regretting letting it get so messy when he heard the familiar purr of a car outside. Distinctly not the roar of the Camaro or the rumble of the Blazer. No it was the purr of his father’s Buick.

He looked out once again over the mess in his living room.

He was going to be pissed.

El noticed the way his face fell when the sound had echoed outside. And then Steve noticed El.

He couldn’t see her here. She was allowed to be out in public but it was still slow going as far as who she was and how she was the chief's daughter. He didn’t want to take any risks.

“El. I’m going to need you to hide in my room. My Dad can’t see you. He won’t go in there.” Steve’s trying to stay calm so he doesn’t alarm her, but reading people’s emotions is something she’s really good at. Not sure if it’s a feature of her powers or just her, but she can always tell if you’re faking a smile and she can feel the emotions that lurk beneath the surface like an empath. So naturally she started to grow fearful as well.

“What’s going on?” She’s still sitting on the floor but appears to at least be shifting her legs to raise herself up. But it’s like everything is moving through molasses but his father’s footsteps don’t seem to be slowing at all.

“My Dad’s home. Take the back steps upstairs and lock yourself in my room. I promise I won’t be long, okay?”

She nods her head, she can see the urgency in his voice so she takes no time at all before sprinting up the stairs and finding Steve’s bedroom.

When she walks inside she realizes she’s never actually been in there before. Only knowing of its location after seeing Steve walk in and out of it from the base of the stairs. It’s not quite what she was expecting.

It was boring. Flannel wallpaper with a perfectly made bed. Shelves organized containing nothing of significance upon them. It looked like one of those bedrooms she saw in furniture catalogs. Steve wasn’t boring. He had a fun and bright personality. He screamed bright blues and bright reds, not the dull greens, grays, and browns that decorated his room.

Then there was an unexpected noise coming from down the steps. The walls were thin, she could hear everything so clearly.

“What the hell is all of this, Steven?” The voice was low and thunderous. Resonating through the entire house. It kind of reminded her of Hopper’s voice, but the underlying tone was distinctly different. There was a condescension to it that she rarely heard out of him. Almost like he was talking down to him. “You’re expected to keep this house clean, and you can’t even do that? How did I get stuck with such a stupid fuck up for a son?” The swears and insults rolled off his tongue like second nature and it made El’s blood boil.

She pressed her ear to the door to get a clearer picture, Steve talked in a very quiet voice in comparison to the fortissimo of Mr. Harrington’s.

“I was just getting ready to clean it up. I had a couple of friends over and they just left. I didn’t know you’d be home, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t let you live under my roof for you to be throwing parties Steven! You should be spending that time actually making something of yourself so I don’t have to explain to my friends what an embarrassment you’ve become.”

“I work full time Dad!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me.” Steve had barely even gotten louder. “What? You think a career at Family Video is some kind of achievement?”

El could feel the tension in the room as it fell silent. She wanted to burst from that room and fling him through a wall. Break his arm.

Mouthbreather.

“Your mother will be home in a few hours, she stopped to see a friend. You will have this mess cleaned up before she gets home and you will help her with her luggage. Understand?”

“Understand.” Steve’s voice sounded broken. Cracking with an inconsistent tone.

“I’ll be in my office. Don’t disturb me.”

The only sounds that follow that line are the sounds of shuffling feet and a slam of a door downstairs. She’s startled when she hears the gentle knock against Steve’s bedroom door.

“You can unlock the door now.” He says.

She does so quietly. Slowly turning the lock so not to make sound that Mr. Harrington could potentially hear.

When she gets the door open she’s met with a Steve that she’s never seen before. He’s squeezing the bridge of his nose and his eyes are red and glossy. His cheeks are pink from wiping abrasively against tears that fell upon them.

“I need to get you home, okay? I can um… I can call Hop or someone to stay with you if you need. I’m sorry.”

El just doesn’t know what to say to him. Doesn’t know how to make things better without her powers.

So she just hugs him. Wraps her arms around his waist tight and lets her head rest where it meets his chest. Squeezing gently just waiting for him to return the gesture.

Which he does, albeit, hesitantly and guarded. Barely letting his own hands come in contact with her shoulders. She’s so small, and if he didn’t already know the strength she was capable of he’d be worried he could break her.

“Bad man.” She whispers.

Steve fights off the tears and squeezes her tighter.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Is all he can say.

The two of them quietly sneak out the front door. Steve knows his Dad wouldn’t care if he left so long as he did what he was asked. He’d picked up the mess and took the trash with him on the way out.

The two pile into the Beemer and Steve quickly turns on the music to distract himself from the words rattling around in his head. Letting the sounds of Metallica play over his speakers. Billy was always doing that. Shoving one of the tapes he made for Steve into the stereo when he wasn’t looking.

Look, a successful distraction!

But they barely made it a mile down the road before El was turning the knob to the left and the car quickly fell silent. She doesn’t look over at him when she says it. Just looks out the window at passing trees and street lights. Watching as power lines appear to move like ocean waves. Up and down, up and down. Fiddling with the cuffs of her shirt like she’s fearful of the words that were to come out of her mouth.

“Is your Dad like Papa?”

She wasn’t afraid of the question, but she was afraid of the answer. Steve knew who Papa was. They all did and were explicitly instructed to avoid that topic at all costs. But she was the one bringing him up.

“No he’s not like Papa.”

“But he’s a bad man.” She says matter of factly.

“Sometimes he is. Yes.”

“Is your Dad like Billy’s Dad?”

That one stung a little too sharply. Not at the premise of his father potentially being like that, but the reminder of Billy. That he was still there under that damn roof with that poor excuse of a man. And that he wouldn’t let Steve protect him no matter how hard he tried and how far he pushed.

That was another thing El knew that most people didn’t know. Another secret she was forced to keep. One she chose to keep on her own, recognizing it wouldn’t be fair to share the things she learned from entering into his mind without giving him a choice in the matter.

Steve was sometimes grateful for that. The fact that El respected Billy and showed him nothing but kindness. But so often he’d wish she’d just spill it all to Hopper. Do the thing Steve didn’t have the strength to do himself.

“No. He’s not like Billy’s Dad.”

“But that doesn’t make it okay.” She looks at him this time. Reaching over the center console to place a hand gently on top of one of his outstretched hands that tightly gripped the steering wheel.

He lets a tear fall. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

The rest of the drive is silent. The only sounds are the purr of the engine and the tires rolling over rough asphalt.

Pulling up to the cabin with El in the passenger seat felt a lot like that first time he took her home. That same painful silence and that same hesitation as they sat in front of the cabin from the comfort of the cabin. Staring out at the porch. The lightbulb that looked almost dead last time now replaced with a brand new one that shined bright and illuminated the whole front of the house.

He was half hoping she would ask for him to stay. Not wanting to go back to that house alone with his Dad. He wanted to go to Billy. Crawl in through his window and curl up next to him in his bed. Make himself feel safe by making Billy feel safe. He’d accept crashing on Hopper’s couch if that was all he could get.

But he knew he couldn’t. Knew he had to get home despite having every reason not to.

“Steve?” She said, grabbing his attention.

“Yeah?”

She opened the car door and stepped out, looking at him intensely through the open door.

“You’re not stupid.”

That right there made him smile much more than her asking him to stay ever would.