#sorry. you can ignore this my mouth likes to shoot off sometimes so some of the things here might not be accurate but i just. god i miss the

[autumnfangirler]

sedations not gonna work anymore somebody needs to kill me

[stevie-petey]

episode two: the mall rats

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.” “Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be. It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Summary: dreams are weird, billy is a hitchhiker, and hopper flirts with joyce in front of you (youre not sure which is scarier), somehow robin knows russian and has genius ears, you get caught in an awkward breakup showdown, and you shamefully are shocked when you discover that hawkins is anything but normal. you would think youd be a pro at this already, but at least steve is hot and really good at sneaking through windows.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, allusions to violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 13.2k

Before you swing in: hello !!! new chapter, i am so sorry for the wait :/ the end of the semester has been killer and ive been super busy with my lab job (i present at a conference friday ... pray for me). heres chapter 2, she somehow ended up being 13k words but lets ignore that for my own sanity !

-

There are dandelions all around you.

Their puffs of white surround you as the seeds dance in the air and settle atop of your head and tickle your cheek. They’re soft, reminiscent of the snow that encases you every winter in Hawkins and the days you used to chase Jonathan around in his backyard.

You’re barefoot in a field that you can’t quite place. The grass below you skims against your ankles as the dandelion seeds float towards the tops of the green. It’s a familiar landscape, something tells you that you’ve been here before, and the thought is almost reassuring to you.

The sun is warm against you and there’s someone in the distance. You open your mouth to call out to them, they feel as familiar as the landscape before you does, but when you try to speak, the dandelion seeds begin to swarm into your mouth. The puffs of white seem to turn into daggers in your throat as they cut your tongue and slice inside you as you struggle to breathe.

You try to scream, but nothing comes out. The dandelions now draw blood as they continue their malicious attack on you. You claw at your mouth and cower in the field, trying to flee from what’s attacking you, but the dandelions only follow as you try to call after the figure you saw in the distance.

Stumbling blindly through the grass, panic stricken and longing for the person who had once been at the top of the hill, your foot catches on a root and suddenly you’re falling. This time, you do scream, and the dandelion seeds spill from your mouth as you fall into an endless abyss.

“Y/N!” Your eyes fly open and your body shoots from your bed; you almost head butt Dustin in the process. He flinches back, startled by your violent reaction, and he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Geesh, I was just trying to wake you up.”

It takes you a few moments to process that you are, in fact, awake. Your heartbeat is still pounding rapidly in your throat. You can still feel the dandelion seeds on your tongue and the millions of little cuts they left behind.

Dustin stares at you with slight concern in his eyes and you clear your throat, trying to rid the memory of your dream. That’s all it was. A dream.

Clearing your throat again, you try to calm yourself down. “Why are you in my room?”

“Like I said, I was trying to wake you up.” Your brother says as if you’re an idiot.

“But why?”

“Did you bang your head or something last night?” He gives you an odd look and you glare at him. “Cerebro caught a Russian code, remember? You promised we’d see Steve today to talk about it!”

You rub your eyes, exhausted. It’s taking longer than usual for your mind to wake up and process everything. “I know, I know… What time is it?”

“Eight, now get up and go get pretty for Steve so we can discuss how to become American heroes.” Dustin crosses his arms, silently daring you to argue.

“There was so much wrong with that sentence,” you groan, but reluctantly throw your blankets off of you and start pulling out random shorts and a t-shirt to wear. “You’re lucky it’s the weekend and I don’t work today.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Dustin mocks you, tossing you a white t-shirt and removing the red one from your hands. “Steve likes you in white, now hurry up.”

Your mouth drops in shock, but your brother simply rolls his eyes at you and leaves your room so that you can get dressed.

“How does he even know that?” You whisper to yourself, now alone in your room.

–

Dustin bikes ahead of you as you make your way to Joyce’s store in Downtown Hawkins. He had complained when you told him that you needed to make a pitstop there before going to the mall.

“I haven’t seen Steve in a month!”

“And Mrs. Byers is close to losing her job at Melvald’s, so you can wait the extra five minute detour it takes to deliver her muffins to cheer her up.”

Your brother had tried to argue some more, but you simply shoved a fresh baked muffin in his mouth and began to bike away.

Now, as the two of you head towards Downtown, the early morning air fills your lungs and slowly wakes you up. It’s quiet, Hawkins isn’t quite awake yet in the early hour. Only the bees buzzing past your ear seem to be lively.

You watch Dustin up ahead and briefly marvel at how much bigger he seems to have gotten in the month he was away at camp. He looks older, more mature, no longer the baby brother your mom brought home fourteen years ago.

As you’re lost in your reminiscence, you almost miss the figure that stumbles along the side of the road.

“Dustin!” You yell at the boy, weary of whoever is up ahead. “Stop!”

He hears the fear in your voice and screeches his bike to a halt. Turning around, he checks to make sure you’re okay. “Did something happen?”

You stop next to him and discreetly point at the figure a few yards away. It seems to be a boy, maybe a teen your age, but he’s walking as if he’s in immense pain. “You see that?”

“Yeah,” Dustin squints and also seems unnerved by the person’s appearance. “Think it’s anything dangerous?”

“I don’t know…” Something feels familiar about the person. Their hair, the way it’s styled, reminds you of someone. You squint as well, your eyes catch on the person’s leather jacket and the expensive brand, there’s a faint outline of cigarettes in the pocket, and the sight fills your nose with the smoke that once choked you last winter. “I think it’s Billy.”

“Why is he walking on the side of the road?” Dustin makes a face. “I know he has a car, the bastard almost ran me and the party over on Halloween.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to understand why you feel this tug within you to get closer to the teen. Billy is cruel, he is horrible, and the bruises he left on your neck took weeks to fully fade away. Yet there’s a concern within you as you watch him stumble, as if in some daze, and it's this worry that solidifies your decision. “Stay here.”

“What–” Dustin turns and sees that you’ve gotten back on your bike and are now pedaling towards Billy. “Y/N! Are you insane?”

“Stay here!” You order, not really understanding why you’re doing this either. “Just… Wait for my signal!”

Dustin curses, not at all liking this plan, but he listens. He tightens his grip on his bike’s handlebar and makes sure you never leave his line of sight in case you need him for backup.

As you approach Billy, you make sure to circle widely around him so that he sees you coming, before finally facing in front of him. You brake a few feet away from him, incredibly nervous for how he may react. You haven’t spoken to him since last winter, he had kept his promise to Max to leave you alone.

Billy barely seems to register that you’re in front of him. He stops as if he’s in a trance and blinks slowly at you. You notice the cut on his forehead, how there’s still fresh blood dripping from it, and something within you wants to tend to the wound. Then you notice the grime that covers his face and his jacket, and you begin to worry even more.

As you’re eying his disheveled appearance, Billy opens his mouth, and the action looks as if it takes all the energy within him to do so. “S–sweetheart?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore the nickname he gave you that makes your skin crawl. You’re more worried about his appearance. He’s sweating like crazy, almost as if he’s on drugs, and he’s paler than normal. His California tan is gone, his eyes are glazed over, he looks as if he isn’t really here with you right now.

It scares you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“‘M fine,” Billy slurs. He seems… off. More drawn into himself now, less sure of himself. Scared, even. It’s a strange sight to see: Billy Hargrove, alone and frightened, in the early morning of June. “I… I’m fine.”

His slurred words aren’t reassuring, and a part of you wants to offer him a ride on your bike. You assume he’s heading to the local pool to lifeguard, you know it’s where he spends most of his days, but you have Dustin with you and you’re still nervous around Billy.

The wounds he gave you may have healed, but some nights, when the nightmares are really bad, you wake up to his hands around your throat.

It feels wrong just leaving Billy like this, though. He’s still human, Max has slowly opened up to you about her abusive stepdad and the way he punches her brother. You know that Billy’s actions come from his hurt, but you don’t think you’re ready yet to forgive him. Not now, at least.

Reluctantly, you sigh and wave your hand to indicate to Dustin that he’s fine to start biking over. Billy doesn’t seem like a threat right now in his current state. When you see your brother start to pedal closer, you look back at Billy. “Listen, I know we aren’t… friends.”

Billy stares blankly at you, and you really hope that he can understand what you’re saying right now.

“But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?” You tell him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm as you speak. However, when your skin makes contact with his, you flinch at how cold he is.

Before you can say anything else, Dustin finally catches up and brakes softly next to you. He looks nervously between you and Billy. “So… Uh. Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You pull away from Billy, your fingers almost numb from his cold skin, and spare him one last glance as you start to bike away. “Remember what I said, okay?”

Billy doesn’t say anything.

You and Dustin leave him stranded on the side of the road.

Neither one of you talk about this.

–

As usual, Downtown Hawkins is deserted when you and Dustin arrive at Melvald’s. The only two cars parked in front of the rundown store belong to Joyce and Hopper.

You hop off your bike and park it in the bike rack before carefully untying the container of muffins from the back. Dustin is slumped on top of his bike, silently complaining, and you wave a stern finger at him. “Wait here, okay? This will only take five minutes, I promise.”

“I’m telling Steve that you’re cheating on him with Mrs. Byers.”

“Not cheating if we aren’t together,” you quip, before opening the door to the store.

When you step inside the store, you’re greeted with Hopper obnoxiously yelling and jumping around as Joyce laughs and claps for him. Curious, you carefully side step the grown man and make your way over to the woman.

“Y/N!” Joyce lights up even more when she sees you, and then lets out a small cheer when she sees that you’re holding one of your signature baked goods containers. “Are those for me?”

“Always, Mrs. Byers.” You grin at her and set the container down. “They’re the muffins you really liked last week, thought I’d bake a special batch just for you.”

Hopper now joins you at the store’s counter in front of Joyce. He’s practically vibrating with his excited energy, so much so that he even smiles at you and claps a hand behind your back. “Kid, it’s like you knew we’d be celebrating a monumental occasion today.”

“What, did Jonathan finally wash his bedsheets?”

Joyce shakes her head and Hopper claps again, now grasping your shoulders and shakes you around. “No, even better! I got Mike out of my house!”

Through Joyce, you had learned all about Hopper’s utter disdain of Mike’s relationship with El. He has spent every day at their cabin since getting together, and even you have had to pry the girl away from Mike a few times to hang out with her. It’s hard bonding with El when Mike is breathing down your neck.

You’re all for young love, you think they’re adorable together, but christ. You understand Hopper’s frustration.

“Actually,” you’re still being shaken by the man. “That does sound better. How’d ya do it?”

Hearing your question, Hopper thankfully stops shaking your shoulders and now happily points at Joyce. “It was all her. I’m the puppet, she’s the master. Joyce gave me a brilliant script to say to the kid.”

“So you remembered everything?” Joyce asks, now unwrapping one of your muffins with glee.

“Yeah… well,” Hopper pauses. “I mean, I had to improvise a little bit, you know?”

You wince. “Oh, that’s never good.”

He glares at you but continues to explain. “It turns out that getting to Mike was the key.”

His words only make you wince again, and you look at Joyce. She meets your eye and the two of you silently agree that something doesn’t sound right here. She questions Hopper further. “And you didn’t yell at him?”

Hopper hesitates, which you expected. “I’ll… tell you everything over dinner.”

“Okay!” You step in between the adults and wave your arms out, preventing whatever else is about to be said. “I’m still here, let’s remember that.”

The chief glares at you again and narrows his eyes. “You’re right, you are still here. Why are you still here?”

“Because Mrs. Byers loves me and I baked her delicious muffins.” You deadpan, which Joyce chuckles at. “And while I’m sure whatever she told you to say to Mike was lovely, I have my doubts that you actually listened.”

“She’s got a point, Hop.” Joyce voices.

Hopper sighs at you both. “Okay, maybe I said some things, haven’t told El the whole truth, but what else was I supposed to do?”

“Not lie to kids?” Crossing your arms, you make a face at the man.

“Easy for you to say, little miss Hawkins’ sweetheart.” Hopper scoffs at you. “Got any better advice?”

You roll your eyes at his words. You understand that the man is still grappling with being a father again, he’s never been one to handle feelings any better, so you spare him some pity and try to be honest with him, say what he needs to hear. “Look, all I’m saying is that the best thing my deadbeat father ever did was teach me kindness, and it broke my heart when he was dishonest in the end. Just, don’t be that way with El, okay?”

Hopper is quiet as your words hang in the air.

Joyce is quiet as well, looking between you and the chief with a fondness in her eyes. It’s not often she sees someone render Hopper speechless, and she knows that it’s one of the many things she loves the most about your relationship with him. Though she would never tell you this, she thinks that Hopper secretly has his own fondness for you as well.

When the silence stretches for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you clear your throat and change the subject. “Well! This was fun, happy we did this.”

Hopper snorts, relieved you’re moving on as well. “Get lost, kid.”

“Gladly.” You turn back to Joyce and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Byers!”

Joyce says goodbye as well, and when you’ve left the store, she faces Hopper with a slight smirk. “She’s a good kid, Hop.”

“She is,” he agrees, looking down at his shoes. He will never admit this to anyone else, but to Joyce he knows his words are safe. “She’s the best of ‘em.”

–

When you finally get to the mall, Dustin basically dumps his bike in a spot next to a disgruntled older couple and runs before you can even slow down. He’s so lost in his excitement to see Steve as he runs towards Scoops and leaves you to deal with his bike and the couple alone, which you groan at.

“He acts like it’s been a year,” you grumble, finally hopping off your own bike to grab Dustin’s and secure them both to a nearby rack. After mumbling a quick apology to the couple your brother practically threw a bike at, you run after him inside.

By the time you catch up, Dustin has just entered Scoops and is talking to Robin. You approach, curious to see how this event will unfold. Robin hasn’t met your brother yet, and you have a feeling that his abrasive nature will either make her his biggest fan or absolutely hate him.

It’s the Henderson charm, really.

“I’m Dustin,” your brother introduces himself as you come to stand next to him. When he notices your arrival, he motions towards you and winks at Robin. “I’m sure Y/N has told you all about me.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at the kid, and you try to cover a giggle with a cough. “I’m Robin. I’m sure Y/N has told you a lot about me.”

“I probably have,” shrug, knowing you always talk about the people you love. When Robin and Dustin both look at you with confused faces, you quickly clarify, “I’ve talked about you both, I mean.”

“Can we cut the chit chat?” Dustin asks, now annoyed by how long this conversation is taking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Robin, but uh. Is he here?”

“Is who here?” Robin looks over at you for help, but before you can prepare her for the inevitable storm of Steve’s bizarre and endearing friendship with Dustin, the older teen’s body comes crashing through the backdoor and his sneakers squeak loudly against the tile.

“Hendersons!” Steve raises his arms in the air in greeting, an ecstatic smile on his face when he sees both you and Dustin standing in Scoops Ahoy. You and your brother start to laugh as Steve now dances around, cheering and gleeful. “You’re both here! Little Henderson is back!”

“I’m back!” Dustin cheers. “And you got the job!”

Steve is beaming and his smile is probably one of the happiest you’ve seen cross his pretty face. He had complained about missing Dustin the entire month he had been gone, moaning and groaning about how he was bored at your house now that he didn’t have Dustin to shoo away.

“I got the job!” Steve mimes playing the trumpet before he starts his intricate and dumb handshake with Dustin.

It’s a complicated process, with fist bumps and pretend lightsaber death. They had come up with it during a particularly boring snow day at your house. You watched as they thought up the handshake while you made cocoa for everyone, heart swelling as Steve was so patient with your brother and encouraged his nerdy little habits.

It had taken them almost the entire day to create what they deemed “the perfect handshake”, and as they go through it once more in Scoops Ahoy, you feel the same swelling in your chest as you did the very first time you saw them come up with the handshake.

While you gaze fondly at Dustin and Steve, Robin stands next to you and watches in horror. As Steve pretends to spew his guts everywhere, the girl leans over to you and says, “Is this what you deal with every day?”

“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile softly at the two boys. You missed seeing them together, more than you thought you had.

Robin sees the dreamy look in your eyes as you stare at Steve and she gags. Unhappy with how this day is looking, she turns to him. “How many children are you friends with?”

Steve’s smile falls and he sighs in defeat. Wordlessly he points at Robin as he looks at Dustin and raises his eyebrows in an exasperated manner. He’s had to deal with Robin’s teasing all summer, and Dustin seems to catch onto what he’s trying to tell him, so he quickly changes the subject. “Sorry we got here so late, man. Y/N insisted on gossiping with Mrs. Byers before coming here.”

“I spoke with her for five minutes.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, five minutes too long.”

“Your breath reeks.”

“You have a pimple on your chin.”

You gasp and quickly cover your face. “I do not–”

“This is fascinating,” Robin whispers as she looks between you and Dustin. “It’s like there’s two Y/Ns.”

Steve, having heard Robin, laughs. His smile had returned to his face as he watched you interact with your brother. “They’re reunited for one day and are already at each other’s throats.”

“Got a month of insults to catch up on,” you flick Steve, who winces and rubs his nose, offended.

Dustin suddenly straightens up. “Speaking of catching up…” He looks at you and tries to subtly motion over at Steve, mouthing “Russians!”, and being everything but discrete.

Steve frowns, unsure what’s happening, but you’re too busy worrying about revealing anything to Robin; she’s scarily good at reading people. Looking wearily at her, you clear your throat and tug at Dustin’s shirt. “C’mon, why don’t we get some ice cream and tell Steve about what you built at camp?”

Again Steve frowns. He had been hoping to share a sundae with you, not talk about boring science stuff with your brother. “Why do I wanna hear about some weird nerd tech–”

“Because you promised me free ice cream last night, when we called.” You interrupt, silently pleading with him to catch onto what you’re saying. “Remember?”

Something shifts within Steve’s eyes and his carefree expression now darkens. He remembers the fear in your voice last night over the phone, how you had asked him to tell you stories to fall asleep to. Clearing his throat, Steve nods and plays along. “Oh, how could I forget? Take Dustin to your booth and I’ll whip up some sundaes.”

You smile at him, thankful as always for how attuned to you he is, before you say a quick goodbye to Robin and tug your brother over to where you normally sit. Once you’re sure Robin isn’t listening, you yank at the boy. “Real subtle back there, doofus.”

“Oh, like Robin would know what Russians could mean.” Dustin grumbles as he slides into your designated booth. His hand catches on something in the seat and he tugs at it, pulling out an old Captain America comic. Holding it up, he narrows his eyes at you. “You really made a home here, huh?”

“Sure did,” you prop your feet up and dig out the Spider-Man comic you had been reading a few days ago. “The ice cream is surprisingly good here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the ice cream is the reason you’re always here.” Dustin doesn’t even want to imagine how many hours you’ve spent in this cheesy ice cream parlor ogling over Steve. Maybe it’s a good thing he was gone most of the summer.

You flip to the last page you left off on and ignore Dustin’s insinuation. “Hey, free ice cream is free ice cream.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Steve arrives and places down two giant sundaes onto the table. He slides next to you into the booth with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Dustin wastes no time digging into his ice cream, making obnoxious noises as he shoves the food into his mouth. You cringe, disgusted that you’re related to him, but Steve kisses your cheek when the kid isn’t looking, and you can’t help but smile. Sneaking your own kiss to his cheek, you thank him. “You’re getting really good at whipping up sundaes, Steve.”

He preens at your praise. “It’s all in the forearms, ya know?” He makes a show out of rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, which you giggle at with a slight flush on your face. Despite working inside all day, Steve has a nice sun kissed tan, which compliments how long his hair has gotten this summer.

Between his short Scoops Ahoy shorts and his hair streaked with sunlight, summer looks good on Steve.

In between bites of his ice cream, Dustin lifts his head up. “Quit talking about Steve’s arms and flirting in front of me, it’s gross.”

You fling a banana peel at him. “You’re the one too busy devouring his food to talk about anything else.”

“So you admit you’re flirting with me.” Steve teases, winking at you.

Dustin covers his eyes in disgust, forgetting about his ice cream entirely. “Seriously, stop it! You’re my sister, how would you feel if I flirted with Suzie in front of you?”

“I would–” You try to think of a response, but ultimately you deflate, unable to come up with anything. Frustratingly, you realize that the kid has a point; you’d be incredibly grossed out as well. “I would hate it.” You sigh, accepting defeat.

“Who’s Suzie?” Steve asks.

“Dustin’s girlfriend.” You say, popping a cherry into your mouth as you eagerly await the teen’s reaction to the girlfriend news.

As expected, Steve’s jaw drops and turns to your brother. No way the little twerp got a girlfriend before him this summer. “Girlfriend? Since when?”

“Met her at camp,” Dustin smirks at him, proud he’s surprised Steve. “She’s super hot, too. Hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence of referencing Suzie’s appearance, but Steve seems interested, although in disbelief as well. “No, no way. Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

“Why is Phoebe Cates the gold standard?” You ask, unsure when she became everyone’s dream woman. All things considered, she’s incredibly attractive, but it’s weird that every boy you’ve spoken to about this universally finds her attractive. Steve finds her attractive, which you’re choosing not to think about because you don’t look anything like her.

Steve hears the slight bitterness in your tone and shuffles closer to you in the booth. Meanwhile, Dustin takes another bite out of his sundae and nods at him. “Mhm, she’s brilliant, too. She doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in.”

“That’s great, Dustin!” You say, happy that your brother has found a girl who accepts him as he is. It’s sweet, really.

“I know, right?” He sits up straighter in the booth and smiles even wider. “She says kissing is better without teeth.”

You and Steve share a horrified look. Neither of you can believe what you’ve just heard, and you think a part of you died inside. Suddenly, the delicious sundae you’d been eating now turns to cement in your stomach at the thought of your little brother kissing a girl who enjoys his lack of teeth. “Oh, that’s… Yeah.”

“Wow!” Steve tries to mask his own horror and disgust, leaning even closer to you now to try and ground you as well. “Yeah, that’s… That’s great! Proud of you, man. That’s–That’s kinda romantic?”

Dustin basks in Steve’s praise and your disgust slowly melts away. Your brother genuinely seems happy to be with Suzie and even happier to tell Steve about it all. He won’t admit it, but you know he idolizes the teen. Steve’s word is like an oath to him, not even you have this much influence over the boy. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended and hurt, but seeing Steve flash Dustin a wink, you couldn’t have chosen anyone better for your brother to admire.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” Dustin motions towards his half-eaten sundae before turning to you. “How much ice cream have you had this summer?”

“A lot,” you shrug, taking another bite of your own sundae.

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”

“Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be.

It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Robin, from across the parlor, sees your sudden annoyance at Steve and calls out to him, “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

“Ignore her,” Steve groans, not having the energy to deal with Robin’s quips and your anger being directed at him. He turns to you and lowers his voice. “I was kidding, Y/N. You know that–”

“Robin seems cool,” Dustin interrupts, not at all wanting to witness a lover’s feud between you and Steve. He left you two alone for a month, he thought he’d come back to you guys being an old married couple. Instead, he still has to suffer through your weird in between chaos.

You jump at the chance to gush about Robin, all while avoiding Steve’s pleading eyes. “She’s amazing. Genuinely one of the coolest people I know.”

“She’s not.” Steve corrects you, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at him and flick his ear, but as your hand lowers, he catches it with his and intertwines your fingers with a practiced ease. The action makes you blush and look away, still not ready to forgive him just yet. Steve sees the blush and feels your fingers tighten around his and he feels as if he can breathe again. There’s hope, at least. “So, where are the other knuckleheads?”

Dustin sighs. “They ditched me yesterday.”

“No,” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Y/N, did they really?”

“They… Kinda did.” You wince, absentmindedly placing your other hand on top of the one Steve is holding. He smiles softly at the action, momentarily forgetting about what you've just told him.

“My first day back! Can you believe that shit?” Dustin’s hurt from last night returns, which only makes you feel worse.

Steve leans forward now, invested and equally as offended as the boy. “Seriously?”

“I swear to god,” Dustin pauses to take another bite of ice cream. “They’re gonna regret it, though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

You drop your head onto the table and groan. “Is this really how you’re going to segue into the Russian thing?”

“You’re my sister. Why would you expect anything less of me?”

“Touche.” You lift your head back up and continue eating your ice cream. It’s the only thing keeping you going right now. Steve has learned how to make your sundaes perfect, adding the peach ice cream you adore with just the right amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Steve has a confused look on his face as he looks between you and Dustin. “Glory? Russians? Did I miss something?”

Dustin smiles mischievously and lowers his voice as he slides closer to the teen. You roll your eyes at his antics, knowing that the conversation that’s about to unfold will only give you another headache. You missed Steve and Dustin being together, but you didn’t miss the way they seemed to double in stupidity when together.

Looking around to make sure he won’t be heard, Dustin begins to explain. “So, last night, as Y/N and I were trying to get in contact with Suzie…” He pauses, sees that Scoops Ahoy is now filling with more customers, and lowers his voice even more to an almost inaudible whisper and covers his mouth.

You and Steve both lean forward, unable to hear him. The teen asks Dustin to repeat himself while you sit there with slight amazement. You know what Dustin is trying to say, you’re more just surprised the kid can be so quiet. It’s a goddamn miracle, honestly.

Dustin inhales deeply and again tries to discreetly inform Steve of the Russian code, but his whispers are still too low to hear. Taking a final bite of your ice cream, you click your tongue at your brother. “You’re really killing it there, buddy.”

“Dude, just speak louder.” Steve’s curious interest is now more of an annoyance.

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin all but shouts, which causes you to practically throw yourself over the table to cover his mouth.

“Jesus fuck!” You look around and see everyone’s eyes on you, and with your hand still clamped firmly over your brother’s mouth, you clear your throat and laugh nervously. “I mean, haha. Pardon me.” The customers give you a weird look but turn away, though Robin continues to stare at you.

Steve gently removes your hand from Dustin’s mouth and once again intertwines his fingers with yours. “Jeez, okay. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said.”

“Did you have to yell?” You sneer at Dustin, still looking around nervously to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the three of you. While Hawkin’s Lab was overrun by Demodogs and every scientist within it died, you’re still terrified that they still have allies watching your every move.

Not that you think the Lab is responsible for Russians, but… Better safe than sorry.

Dustin rolls his eyes at you. “Your boyfriend is the one who couldn’t hear me.”

You’re about to correct him when Steve waves the boy off and goes back to the main topic. “What does any of that mean, though? The Russian code and whatever.”

“It means that we can never catch a break–”

“It means, Steve,” Dustin sends you a dirty look. “That we could be heroes. True American heroes.”

Steve seems into the idea and you want to scream. You hate the way Dustin is explaining all of this. “This could mean danger, guys.”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you and Steve smiles wearily. “I don’t know, Y/N. It doesn’t seem so bad, ya know? We’ve fought Demodogs, how bad could some Russians be?”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “The Demodogs were created by shifty government facilities. Why are we assuming Russia doesn’t have their own?”

“But… American heroes.” Steve looks heartbreakingly pathetic as he says this, and you realize now that his fixation on being seen as some hero stems from the hurt he still feels over his father. He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. You wish you could convince Steve that he’s more than what his father could ever expect him to be, but you know he wouldn’t listen.

With Steve’s pleading eyes looking at you, lost and hopeless, you can’t argue with him. Sighing, you accept that this is something he has to take part in, if only to rebuild his crumbling confidence. “Tell him what you’re thinking, Dustin.”

“Gladly.” Your brother wastes no time diving in, once more eager and excited to have the attention on him, and it’s only now that you realize he’s doing this for the same reason Steve is: they both feel abandoned and hurt. “We need your help.”

“With what?”

Dustin digs through his backpack and takes out the Russian dictionary he made you steal from work. He holds it up and shows it to Steve. “Translation.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs the book to inspect it. There’s a new spark in his eyes, one that died the day his father told him he wouldn’t attend his graduation. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you exhale and slump in your seat. There’s no going back now. “I just want you both to know that I hate this plan and your excitement over it, but if I don’t help then you guys will somehow end up in a Russian gulag, and that would just be on me.”

Steve shares a look with Dustin, whose sigh reflects your own. “Glad you have faith in us, Y/N.”

–

It’s Steve's idea to work on the translation in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, and neither you or Dustin argue. Technically, he’s the only one who has any real responsibilities today with work and all, so it makes sense to stay at Scoops and hide out there.

Dustin sits at the table next to you as he replays the tape recording over and over again. Steve paces the room and eats a banana, claiming he needed “brain food” to focus on the complex Russian language. You sit with your head in your hands, trying desperately to hold onto the bizarre language that floats around the room.

After his tenth time replaying the code, Dustin pauses the recording and looks at you and Steve. “So, what do you guys think?”

“It sounded familiar.” Steve shoves a piece of banana into his mouth. You cringe at the obscene amount of food he tries to chew at once. Seeing your disgust, Steve waves the banana in your face and asks with a mouthful of food, “Wan sum?”

“It’s like you want me to hate you today,” you slap the banana away, which he chuckles at.

Dustin gets both of your attention again with slight annoyance. He didn’t miss the weird flirting between the two of you at all. “Guys, focus. What do you mean the recording sounds familiar?”

“The music,” Steve still speaks with his mouth full. “The music right there at the end.”

“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin exclaims, exasperated.

As your brother berates Steve for his lack of Russian translating, you sit up in your seat processing what he’s just previously said. While you hadn’t thought much of it before, now that Steve has pointed it out, the music does sound familiar. You swear you’ve heard it somewhere before, but you can’t remember where or when. It’s a hazy memory, distant in your mind, yet right in front of you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

“I think Steve is onto something,” you say, but the two boys are too busy fighting to hear you.

“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but there’s music–”

Suddenly the back door swings open and Robin appears. She looks agitated after having to man the cash register all by herself while Steve hides out in the breakroom. “Alright, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” When she sees that you’ve erased her whiteboard and replaced her “you suck” columns with the Russian alphabet, her agitation only increases. “Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds.”

You get up from the table and walk up to the girl, feeling bad. While you aren’t sure what exactly her “you suck” column and tallies were for, it had been her creation that you had erased without thinking to ask. Plus, you really don’t want her seeing the Russian dictionary on the table. “I’m sorry, Robin–”

“Not you, Y/N. You’re not a shitbird,” she points over to Steve and Dustin. “Those two are shitbirds.”

“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin interjects, a smug look on his face that makes you want to scream. He isn’t at all helping the situation.

Robin begins to walk over to the boys and you reluctantly follow. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”

Dustin’s jaw drops and Steve almost chokes on his banana. Seeing their stunned reactions of Robin having figured out what you’ve been doing, you sigh in disappointment. They’re such idiots sometimes. They wrote Russian on the whiteboard, out in the open, and have been playing the recording out loud, full volume, on repeat.

Of course Robin caught onto what you were doing.

Which only makes your nervous body tense up even more. You hate that you have to lie to her, you’ve become really close with her during your visits to Scoops, but you don’t want to drag her into anything dangerous. You’re not sure what exactly any of this Russian code means, but Robin has been nothing but kind to you this summer, you truly care about her, and it would kill you if something were to happen because of you.

So, despite knowing how smart Robin is, you try to think of a cover story. “We were just interested in the language. Ya know, a summer hobby.”

“I can hear everything, Y/N.” Robin sees right through your lies. “Your idiotic brother and boyfriend are both extremely loud.”

“Steve isn’t my boyfriend–”

“You three think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do.”

You, Steve, and Dustin all look at one another in varying degrees of awe and despair.

Robin, seeing your stunned faces, smiles. “Sound about right?”

“How could you not know about the Russian alphabet, Y/N?” Dustin angrily whispers at you as if somehow it’s your responsibility to know the ins-and-outs of the language.

“Why would I–you know what, no.” You ignore your brother and turn to Robin, trying to alleviate the situation and prevent her from finding out anything else. She’s too fucking smart, it’s both admirable and aggravating. “Look, whatever you think you heard–”

Suddenly Robin lunges for the Russian dictionary on the table, but Steve’s quick reflexes enable him to grab the book before she can. “Woah! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna hear it.” She juts her chin out in defiance, though you see the slightly hurt expression she tries to mask. She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this.

You wish you could tell her the truth.

“Why?” You ask in unison alongside Steve and Dustin.

“Because maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, ya know.”

Dustin perks up, now more open to the idea of Robin’s involvement. “Russian?”

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”

Steve and Dustin gasp, believing that they’ve just heard Robin say something in Russian, but you know better. One summer, when the party had been especially nosy and insisted on following you and Jonathan around, the two of you had learned pig latin in order to communicate without the twerps eavesdropping.

Learning against the table, you smirk at Robin. “Osay ouyay owknay igpay atinlay.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin gasps and Steve almost falls over with how quickly he looks at you in shock. Both boys stare at you in awe and you almost feel bad for their tiny little brains.

Robin can’t help but smile at you, you somehow always manage to surprise her. “Impressive, Y/N. Didn’t think you knew pig latin either.”

“That was pig latin?” Steve scrunches his face and hits your brother with his banana peel. “Idiot.”

“Steve, please don’t hit my brother with banana peels,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s only noon and you’re already exhausted from today’s events. “But yes, that was pig latin.”

Dustin shoves Steve away from him and focuses on you again. “When did you learn pig latin?”

“The summer you and the party decided to stalk me and Jonathan.” You shrug, though you smile fondly at the memory. It had been a good summer, just the two of you holed up in your room as you quizzed each other on the bizarre language.

Steve, seeing your fondness at the memory, frowns. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable heat that he feels ignite within his stomach at the thought of you still being so fond over Jonathan. He trusts you, he trusts what you have, but he will never feel equal to him.

Robin notices Steve’s brewing insecurity and quickly changes the subject. She doesn’t have time for the usual hormonal drama between the two of you. All she wants right now is to decipher the Russian so that she can catch a break from Erica and her demanding need to try every free sample ever. “Back to the main point: I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

You bite your lip. Truthfully, Robin has the highest chance of unraveling whatever the hell is in the recording. You’re horrible with languages, high school Spanish had nearly killed you, and Steve and Dustin stand no better chance. “Robin…”

“Come on,” she begs. “It’s Steve's turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate.”

Steve and Dustin turn to you, unanimously agreeing that you’re the leader in this situation; whatever call you make, they’ll listen. Robin sees the conflict on your face and tries one last time. “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored and wanna hang out with you.”

Your head spins. Robin’s pleading eyes are hard to fight against and you realize that she already knows more than you’d want her to; she’s already a part of it all, whether you like it or not. Sighing, you give in. “Fine, but only if you promise not to ask any questions about whatever we may find.”

“What would I even question?” She asks, unsure why your tone is more foreboding than accepting.

You share a look with Steve and Dustin. The three of you know just how quickly something simple can spiral into chaos in Hawkins. “Just… promise me, okay?”

Robin extends her hand, just happy to finally have something better to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

After you shake her hand, she tosses her ice cream scoop to Steve and he hands her the Russian dictionary. Seeing the exchange sends a slight shiver down your spine. You don’t like how much it feels like you’ve just signed Robin’s life away.

–

True to her word, Robin’s ears are little geniuses.

With her helping, you and Dustin are able to speed through the translating as Steve works the register. You’re tasked with writing down the letters that Dustin calls from the whiteboard as Robin listens to the tape over and over again.

“Weird ‘r’ with a hook!” Your brother declares for the last letter.

You write it down and can’t help but frown at the message you’ve seemingly deciphered. Showing the writing to Robin, you ask what she thinks. “Are you sure it was that weird ‘r’ sound?”

“I’m positive,” she says. “C’mon, let’s go tell Steve.”

“Are we sure–” You try to ask her again, but Robin has already made her way to the sliding window and gets Steve’s attention.

“We’ve got our first sentence!”

You make your way over and lean against the window as well. Steve, holding two ice cream cones, seems excited by the news. “Oh, seriously?”

“It’s a hesitant first sentence.” You butt in, still unsure if it’s even correct.

Robin rolls her eyes at you. “Ignore her, I’m right.” Then, clearing her throat, she does an impressive Russian accent. “‘The week is long’.”

Steve’s shoulders slump, clearly having expected something better. “Well that’s thrilling.”

“Told you it was a hesitant first sentence.” Then you turn to Robin. “Nice accent, by the way.”

“Why thank you,” she tips her hat at you before focusing back on Steve. “And I know it isn’t thrilling, but it’s progress!”

And with that, Robin spins around and goes back to the table in the breakroom, eager to decipher more of the code. You’re about to kiss Steve’s cheek and say goodbye, but then your eyes land on a familiar red-haired girl and her friend standing in front of the register. You look down at the ice cream in Steve’s hands and note the familiar order you’ve come to memorize since the mall opened.

“Max? El?” You lean further out the window, pleasantly surprised to see them. “What are you guys doing here? Where’s the rest of the party?”

The girls wave at you and giggle, and you realize now that you’ve never actually seen them alone together before. Normally they’re with Lucas or MIke, so it’s a bit jarring to see them getting along so well without the boys. Jarring, but also very lovely.

“We don’t need those idiots.” Max responds, which makes El giggle even more.

Steve whistles, impressed by Max’s bluntness, and hands them their ice cream. They begin to eat the treat before a thought occurs to him. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?”

You walk through the breakroom and come out the main doors to join Steve at the register. While you’re happy to see Max and El getting along, Steve has a point. Why is El here in such a public space? When you had asked Hopper last month if you could take El to Steve’s graduation, it had taken a whole debate and a fresh batch of cookies in order to convince the old man to let her come.

El is still technically forbidden from being seen in public, and yet here she is: running around Starcourt with Max.

You put your hands on the counter and lean towards the girls. They take a few steps back, now knowing that you’re onto them. “Max, El, what are you up to?”

Their eyes widen while you narrow yours, daring them to lie. Then, quickly glancing at one another, they turn around and run out of Scoops Ahoy, leaving you alone with Steve. You both stand there, dumbfounded.

“I thought I only ever had to worry about the boys.” You whisper, horrified. “The girls were supposed to be the ones I could trust.”

Steve rubs your shoulders and kisses your cheek. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?”

You drop your head and sigh. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll tell Robin you had a babysitting emergency.” He presses a kiss to your neck now, which you shiver at, before gently shoving you out from behind the counter. “Good luck, angel.”

Steve’s kisses give you the energy you need to run after Max and El. They’re surprisingly fast as they giggle and trade ice cream cones to share. You call after them as you dodge random people in the mall, but your calls are in vain. They ignore you and continue to skip happily away from you.

“Guys!” When you finally catch up to them, they’re outside standing in front of the bike rack. “Why are you in front of the bikes–oh.”

You see Mike, Lucas, and Will unlocking their bikes from the rack as they bicker over something. Faintly you hear Mike and Lucas arguing about splitting money while Will is silent.

There’s a tension between the girls and boys that you now take note of. Normally El would have already been wrapped around Mike’s arms, but she remains by your side as Max approaches the boys. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”

When Mike sees El, he drops his bike in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping.” El says as she glares at the boy.

You’ve never seen her so cold towards someone. It’s kind of frightening, honestly. “Oh, Wheeler, what did you do?”

“What did I do? No, what did you do? You’re the one who is letting her walk around Starcourt where everyone can see her!” Mike shrieks, always finding ways to blame you for his own problems.

You scoff. “Hey, I’ve only known about this for like, a second longer than you have.”

“Sure, likely story.”

“Have you ever considered not pissing off your girlfriend?”

“Have you ever considered getting a better boyfriend than Harrington?”

“Okay–”

Max steps in between you and Mike, annoyed. “Both of you shut up!” She waves her hand over El’s outfit and tries to turn the conversation around. “This is El’s new style. What do you think?”

“I think she looks nice–”

Mike cuts you off. “What’s wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here.”

“What is she, your little pet?”

El clenches her jaw. “Yeah. Am I your pet?”

“What? No!” Mike denies, equally as confused as you are.

You’re not quite sure how you ended up in this situation.

“Then why do you treat me like garbage?” El questions the boy.

You frown at this and subtly step towards Lucas, desperately hoping for some clarification. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s a long story.” He sighs, and you now realize that Max must be angry with him, too.

El continues to interrogate Mike, and you almost feel bad for the boy. “You said Nana was sick.”

“She is! She is sick.” Mike lies through his teeth. You think about what Hopper told you earlier, how he had said some things to get Mike away from El, and you suppose now that it had involved some type of lie about the kid’s grandma.

Then Mike shoves at Lucas to get him to play along as well. Reluctantly he echoes his friend, though you know he’s aware that he’s only making this worse for himself. “She’s super sick, that’s why we’re here, actually.”

Mike is quick to follow along. “Yeah, we’re shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana.”

You catch Will’s eyes, who has remained silent this entire time, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. You look back at Mike and Lucas now, unamused. “Nana isn’t sick, is she?”

“She is! But…” Mike fumbles over his words now. “We’re also here to get a gift for El. We just–we couldn’t find anything that suited her and I only have like, $3.50, so it’s hard.”

“It’s expensive… Had we known you were at the mall we would’ve asked you for money.” Lucas mumbles, which you flick his forehead at. “Ow, Y/N!”

El looks between Lucas and Mike, her eyes showing her hurt. “You lie.” When neither boy says anything, her hurt only grows and her voice wavers with tears. “Why do you lie?”

Again, El’s words are met with silence. Mike looks down, too ashamed to meet her eyes, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling even worse for the kid. You hadn’t expected to witness an awkward relationship feud today, and it wasn’t all entirely his fault. You know that Hopper played a role in this.

Later, when you have the time, you’re definitely going to yell at the police chief about this.

As the silence drags on, the local bus that drives everyone in Hawkins to Starcourt now arrives in the parking lot. Hearing its brakes hiss, El looks behind her and seems to make up her mind about something. Her face is stony as she approaches Mike and her words are laced with venom. “I dump your ass.”

You and Max gasp, though yours is more from shock and Max is more from being impressed.

Mike’s face falls and El whips around and begins walking towards the bus. Max follows, waving goodbye to you, and you’re left to deal with the unfortunate outcome of this bizarre situation.

Laughing nervously, you awkwardly pat Mike’s back. “You’ll… Uh, fix this, right?”

Mike slaps your hand away and marches back towards his bike. His shoulders droop and he looks tired from all he’s had to deal with today. Lucas doesn’t look any better and silently follows after his friend. Will is the only one who remains, and he drops his head to your chest and groans. “I just wanted to play DnD today.”

“I know, little bee.” You scratch his head and try to console him. “But sometimes life gets in the way. Right now Mike and Lucas need you, do you think you could help them?”

Will looks up at you. “I don’t know… Maybe, I guess.”

“Do what you can,” you kiss his forehead, wishing you could do more for him. All he’s wanted to do all summer is be a kid again, but his peers are growing older and leaving him behind. It isn’t anyone’s fault. “I gotta go, buddy. But I promise you and I will do something this week, just the two of us, okay?”

He nods, content with this, and you ruffle his hair before heading back inside to Scoops.

–

Hours later, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin all uncover the rest of the Russian code.

You stand with your back against Steve’s chest as he has his arms draped loosely over you. Robin and Dustin stand to your left as you all face the whiteboard that has the message written on it, reading it out loud.

“‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west’.”

There’s a pause as you all take in the bizarre message. You’re extremely doubtful that it’s right. The order of the words is too abstract to possibly be purposeful. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“Are we sure this is right?” You ask the group, knowing no one else will utter the doubt that settles over the room. Steve tightens his arms around you and shrugs.

“It has to be.” Dustin mumbles, though even he looks unsure.

Robin sighs. “Well, whether or not we’re right, dingus and I have to close up shop.”

Steve groans but reluctantly lets go of you so that he can help Robin with closing. While the two teens wash the ice cream scoopers and put away the remaining ice cream, you sit with Dustin at one of the booths.

“Maybe it’s a code?”

“Dustin, we just translated a foreign language. Thinking it’s a code seems like a cop-out, honestly.” You rest your head in your hands and watch Steve count the money in the register. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and winks at you. Blushing, you look back at your brother. “We probably just translated it wrong.”

“My ears are right! We didn’t translate anything wrong!” Robin shouts from across the store.

Dustin perks up. “See? We have to assume we’re onto something.”

You bite your lip, still unsure, but leave the topic alone for now. There’s no point arguing with Dustin and Robin because it’s not like any of you can just ask a native Russian speaker who is correct. If it somehow ends up being a hidden code, then you’ll apologize to Robin’s ears later.

It’s quiet in the parlor after that, but when Steve and Robin have finished closing and he pulls the gate down to lock up the store before you all go home, Steve can’t help but bring the subject up again. “I mean–it’s just, it can’t be right.”

“It’s right.” Robin affirms once more, and Dustin nods at her appreciatively.

“Honesty, I think it’s great news.”

Steve walks next to you as the four of you slowly head towards the mall’s exit. It’s late, you’re tired from your long day of translating the Russian language, and you’re ready to go to bed. Then, as if somehow knowing the exhaustion that weighs upon you, you feel Steve slip his hand into yours. His fingers are warm and the touch soothes you as he gently guides the two of you.

“How is this great news?” Steve asks your brother. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”

“The goal isn’t to be American heroes, dummy.” You chide, tugging at your hands to make sure he looks at you and listens. “We aren’t still going to follow this, are we?”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you both. “It’s not nonsense, it’s too specific and obviously a code. And yes we’re going to keep following this. We’re onto something, I can feel it!”

“All I feel right now is a crippling migraine forming,” you groan, rubbing at your temples.

Steve kisses your head in concern, feeling bad that he’s kept you out so late. However, he also really, really would love to become someone important. Someone worthy of his dad’s favor, so he follows after Dustin, curious despite it all. “What do you mean a code?”

“Like a super secret spy code.”

“That’s a total stretch.”

You snort. “That’s what I said, but no. Why should we ever listen to Y/N? It’s not like she’s always right in the end.”

Robin winces, afraid to annoy you further, but she can’t help but agree with Dustin. “I don’t know, is it really a stretch?”

“No, please don’t tell me you believe my brother.” You’re betrayed, hurt even, that Robin would succumb to Dustin’s fantasies.

Normally you’re all for believing your brother, but Russians in Hawkins leaving a hidden code in a radio frequency that can be accessed by the public? You may have fought alternate dimension monsters and you may know a girl with mind control powers, but even this feels far fetched.

“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?” Robin raises her eyebrows at you.

“Well… no.” You slump your shoulders, knowing that she has a point. “But–”

“Just admit we’re right, Y/N.” Dustin says, annoyed.

Robin turns to you and almost groans when she sees your hand intertwined with Steve’s. Her voice falters for a moment at the sight, but she clears her throat and carries on with the conversation. “And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds’. Why would anyone talk like that unless they’re trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

Dustin is next to her now, hanging onto her every word as you and Steve lag behind. “Exactly!”

“It is a weird phrase,” you mumble under your breath, and Steve can’t help but chuckle at how endearing you are when you try to play the reasonable role. It’s never any use, you’re everything that hope and optimism embodies; it’s adorable.

Robin sees that you’re close to giving in and begins to ramble now. “Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Again Dustin agrees with everything she says and Steve shrugs his shoulders while all you do is sigh in defeat. Looking at your brother, Robin concludes, “Guess that confirms your suspicions.”

“Evil Russians.”

“Okay, no.” You step between them now. “What if they’re just, like, really shy Russians who want some privacy? Why do we always jump to the evil conclusion?”

Dustin shoulders you to get you to shut up, and you shove him back, starting a small spat between the two of you. He hits your shoulder, you hit his stomach, and Steve watches with amusement while Robin stares in horror.

“Do we stop them?” She asks the teen.

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve learned that it’s best to just let them fight it out. It’s been a month, they’re behind on their fist fighting schedule.”

“I heard that!” You quickly say to him before yanking Dustin’s shirt to get him off of your back.

Seeing your struggle, Robin forces your brother off of you and holds him by his arms so that he doesn’t jump on you again. Dustin complains, but quickly shuts up at what Robin says. “Focus! I’m trying to tell you that I agree with you, this is totally evil Russians.”

Dustin stops struggling against her, now elated at the idea of defeating evil foreigners. “So how do we crack it?”

You were scared that Robin and Dustin wouldn’t get along, but as you watch them bounce schemes off of one another and plan an evil Russian take down, you’re now terrified of the friendship brewing between them. It’s worse than Steve with Dustin; Robin is just as cunning as your brother is.

She thinks for a moment. “I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”

“Have we ever considered a game plan for after poking our noses where they don’t belong?” Dustin and Robin both glare at you and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Ignore her, Robin. She likes to pretend she’s the rational one in these types of situations.” Dustin whispers to her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve kisses your cheek as a way to console you as your brother continues to speak. “Anyways, maybe the ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?”

“Or a person.” Robin theorizes.

“Or a weapon.”

As the two of them come up with insane theories about what the code could mean, you notice that Steve is no longer by your side. Turning around, you find him stopped at one of the carousel horses meant for little kids. He’s bent over it, examining it. You frown, unsure what he’s doing, and walk over to him.

Resting a hand against his back, you lean down next to him. “Can I ask what we’re looking at here, honey?” He’s mumbling under his breath and digging through his pockets for something. Now you’re starting to get concerned. “Steve?”

“I need–do you have a quarter?”

“No?” You’re even more concerned now. Placing the back of your hand against his forehead, you check his temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin quips as she and Dustin now join.

“Quarter!” Steve demands, nearly falling over as he tries to catch the one that she tosses him. When he catches it he quickly pushes the coin into the machine’s slot, bringing it to life. Music begins to play as the horse moves back and forth. It’s ominous, almost, in the mall’s dim lighting with no one else around.

Steve listens intently to the music, his face concentrated as if trying to understand something. As the music continues to play, you can’t help but feel that it sounds familiar. It reminds you of something, maybe a distant memory that you can’t quite recall. Wanting to understand more, you lean in close to the machine as well and mirror Steve’s actions. “The music…”

“They’ve both lost it,” Dustin mumbles when he sees that you’re also now analyzing a stupid carousel horse.

“Y/N, you helping little Stevie up onto the ride?” Robin laughs at her own joke, but you swat at her to shush her.

As the song plays once more, it finally clicks. Your mind flashes back to your conversation with him earlier in the break room as you kept replaying the Russian recording over and over again. It’s the same song. With a gasp, you throw your arms around Steve’s neck and begin kissing his face over and over again. “You’re a genius!”

Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot. Though his heart is beating wildly, he clears his throat and shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “I have my moments.”

“Care to share with the class, dinguses?”

Robin’s voice startles you, having momentarily forgotten where you were. Blushing, you pull away from Steve and clear your throat as well and act as if you weren’t just drowning the boy in kisses. “Listen to the song, guys.”

The seriousness of your tone causes Dustin to finally listen to the music as well. It only takes him a few seconds to piece together what you and Steve already have. “Holy shit. The music.”

“The music.” You confirm with pride, still incredibly amazed that Steve managed to remember such a small yet crucial detail. Since coming to befriend him, you’ve come to admire just how perceptive he is. Sure, he may not be a math whiz, but his emotional and creative intelligence leaves you in awe every time you see it. He’s smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

You wish his father saw this intelligence within him. Honestly, you wish more people did.

Dustin yanks his backpack off of his shoulder and starts rustling through it as he searches for something. When he finds his tape recorder, he starts to play the Russian transmission again. Hearing the audio and carousel play simultaneously side by side, it only confirms what Steve has long since figured out: it’s the same song.

Not being able to help yourself, you again kiss Steve’s cheek, giddy and proud of him. “You’re brilliant.”

He preens while Robin scrunches her nose, unsure why you’re all over the guy because of some song. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s the exact same song on the recording.” Dustin explains to her.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”

You nod at her. “Maybe? We should look into who produces these machines, it could be our new lead.”

Steve shakes his head. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so.”

Something seems to shift within his voice and his face now twists with slight fear. He looks as if he’s realized something awful, and you feel your own joy from earlier vanish. A chill runs through you, the same awful feeling of dread that once overwhelmed you when Will originally disappeared now courses through you again.

“What is it?” You softly ask Steve, already bracing yourself for the worst.

He frowns at the apprehension in your voice and the worried crease between his brows makes you want to smooth away the concern. You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you. Seeing your unspoken permission, he sighs. “This code, it… didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”

You, Robin, and Dustin all look at one another. Fear settles over the group, you can feel its heavy weight like an old, familiar friend.

“Why does everything happen in Hawkins?” You say to no one in particular, still trying to process what this all means.

Dustin sighs and Steve drops his head.

Somehow, you always end up here.

–

Steve offers to drive you and Dustin home after seeing how shaken up you are by the latest Russian revelation. Tired and exhausted and terrified as usual, you accept.

It takes some trial and error, but eventually he and your brother manage to fit your bikes in the back of the BMW.

The drive to your house is filled with awkward banter between Steve and Dustin. You sit quietly in the passenger seat as the two boys try to make light of the situation, but not even their jokes can lessen the fear that creeps into the car; none of you are sure what to make of all of this.

When Steve pulls up to your house, all that you’ve managed to do the entire car ride is make a mental note to call Jonathan about everything later. It’s not your best plan, you wish that there was more you could do, but at the very least you know that he and Nancy can help.

Dustin scrambles out of the car, desperate to escape the tension within it. “See you tomorrow, Steve!” He calls behind him before slamming the car door shut.

You snort softly at your brother, finally moving to unbuckle your own seatbelt, before Steve places his hand on yours and stops you. He’s noticed how quiet you’ve been the entire car ride and the way your eyes have clouded over with fear. He hates it. “Do me a favor?”

“Yes?” You blink at him, unsure what he could want at this hour. It’s late and your mom expects you home soon.

“Leave your window unlocked for me.” He winks at you, trying to play coy, but you see the genuine concern for you hidden beneath his actions.

You can’t help but smile; it feels as if you can breathe again. “Steve Harrington, why should I leave my window unlocked for you?”

Your smile sends a warmth through Steve’s chest as relief washes over him. He’s doing something right. He’s gotten you to smile. “Because I’m planning on sneaking in after I park my car a few blocks down so your mom won’t see me.”

Though you know what he had been implying, hearing him say the words out loud causes a wild blush to burn across your cheeks and your stomach to swoop. Steve has never done this before, sneaking into your room like some lovestruck teenager late at night, it’s been the one boundary neither of you have crossed before.

“I suppose I can do that.” You say with an air of indifference, which Steve rolls his eyes at. “Strictly friendly, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

You giggle, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, and you exit the car after kissing the boy’s cheek. His face is warm against your lips and you’re coming to memorize the way your nose presses against the indent of his cheek bones.

When you get inside, your mom is knitting on the couch while Tews sits in her lap. She greets you with a smile and you compliment the scarf she’s making. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect for this winter, mom.”

She thanks you and wishes you a good night, noticing the bags underneath your eyes with slight concern. Inside your room, you quickly clear away the scattered pieces of paper on your desk and arrange your bedding so that it isn't strewn across the room. Steve has been in your room a million times now, and yet you can’t help but feel like tonight is different for some reason.

True to his word, within ten minutes Steve is knocking on your window. Hearing the quiet way his knuckles rap against the glass makes your heart jump in your stomach. Your body practically buzzes as you go to open the window, eager to have him close to you.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, opening the window wide enough for him to crawl through.

Steve pulls himself up with ease, his biceps strain against his Scoops Ahoy uniform, and you’ve never been more thankful for corporate policy. “Sorry, angel. Came here as fast as I could.”

You tug at his shirt and the two of you are falling into your bed. He lands on you with a soft thud and your body has long since become accustomed to his weight. As his body settles upon yours, it feels like coming home. You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.

Everything swirling violently within your head now stills. The constant onslaught of worries and doubts finally quiets, and you know that despite it all, at least you have Steve.

“We’ll figure it out, ya know.” Steve’s lips move against the skin of your neck as he speaks, making you shiver slightly at the sensation.

“I know,” you start to play with his hair, needing something to do with your hands as you speak. “But… How many times are we going to keep doing this? Be the only people in Hawkins aware of what’s going on?”

Steve is silent for a few moments, allowing your words to sink in. He rolls them around in his head, he knows that the question isn’t one that comes from doubt of what he and the others are capable of. You don’t lack faith, you lack the willingness to constantly place the ones you love at risk. It just isn’t in your nature.

“As many times as needed.” He pauses again, unsure how to express to you his certainty that you’re capable of so much with all the love within you. If there’s anyone in this shitty town who is a real American hero, it’s you. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through these last two years, measly Russians are no big deal. We’ve fought worse monsters than Communism.”

You laugh, he always somehow gets you to laugh, and the sound is as angelic to Steve as your eyes are to him. He tightens his arms around you and relishes in the way your body presses against his, how he can feel your body move with every inhale of your laugh.

Then, slowly, your laughter dies down. Reality settles upon you once more and you want to believe Steve, you do, and you try to reassure yourself that he’s right… but something feels off about this. You can’t exactly articulate what it is, but there's this haze of uncertainty that you’ve never quite felt before; a vulnerability that leaves you feeling cold in his arms.

Sensing your fear rising up again, Steve tries to distract you by changing the subject. “Speaking of monsters, I recruited the little heathens to help with your birthday gift.”

The change of subject works. You raise your head and look at the teen. “You mean the party? You got them to help with a gift for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Y/N.” Steve butts his head against your chin playfull. “I can make them listen to me… sometimes.”

You stare at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Go on, tell me all about how you got them to listen to you.”

He tries to hold your gaze, refusing to back down, but he cracks after only a few seconds. “Okay, fine. It took a lot of pleading and I now owe a bunch of pre-teens money.”

A loud, full body laugh escapes your lips, and Steve laughs with you. The two of you hold one another and feel each other laugh, chests rising with glee. For a moment you feel okay again, forgetting everything else for now. You’re carefree in this moment, feeling like a little kid again, something only Steve can do to you.

When your laughs die down, you and Steve quietly lay together. No other words manage to find their way in the dark of your room, all that needs to be said has been laid to rest. His warm breaths hit the base of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. While you feel safe in his arms, there’s still so much that needs to be said.

Staring at the ceiling of your room, you see faint threads and strings and lines that you thought you put to rest that night in Jonathan’s room this winter. Now, they’re back again, only this time it’s a different boy within your arms. Something akin to doubt creeps in.

Steve already has all of you, you told him you’d wait, but what if you’ve missed your chance again with him like you did with Jonathan? When June began, Steve promised that you had all summer together. He calls you angel and tells you stories to fall asleep to on the phone, and yet the threads that glow above you taunt you.

You love him, you do, but you’re terrified that whatever the two of you uncover with the Russians will somehow pry you apart.

Just like Will’s disappearance had pried Jonathan away from you two years ago.

July looms over you and summer is going by faster than you thought it would. The promise of summer, one that usually leaves the nostalgic taste of honey on your tongue, now threatens to choke you.

As if having a mind of their own, your arms tighten even more around Steve, almost as if somehow you can shield what the two of you have from the dangers within Hawkins.

You hope it’s enough.

-

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[alchemistc]

Couched In Metaphor

"You want a beer man?"

Eddie tilts a look over his shoulder, already halfway through the doorway to his kitchen, and Tommy shoots a glance at his watch. "Mmm, no can do. I'm meeting Evan in a bit."

"Is this my cue to act a fool for your attention?"

There's a moment where Tommy wants to double down on defense for Evan, but it's a joke, it's just a joke and if Evan were right next to him he'd definitely enjoy the gentle ribbing. He tries not to examine the immediate desire to defend him too closely. Too much, too soon, it's barely been a few months.

"And he's got jokes, ladies and gentlemen."

Eddie grins: wide, amused. It's what he came for - the chance to get Eddie out of his own head for a few hours. "You guys doing anything special?"

"We're on a mission to pick out a new couch, apparently."

When Eddie stills, Tommy swears it's like he's just been frozen in place; the beer in his hand raised halfway to his mouth, lips pursed, brows raised, a cartoon character stuck in time. He plays it off a moment later, hastily lowering the bottle, nodding. "Don't let him bring a clipboard."

It's Tommy's turn to wrinkle his brow.

"No good can come when that man's got a prioritized list, Tommy, I'm serious."

"So we're ignoring the fact that there's apparently something about tagging along for furniture shopping that just made you freeze frame?"

Eddie tilts his head, squints his eyes, takes a drag off his beer. "That's a Buck and Tommy conversation, not an Eddie and Tommy conversation. You wanna know more about the clipboard, though, I've got about thirty horror stories."

---

"I feel like maybe I've been bamboozled," Tommy says, three furniture stores in. The couch Evan is currently testing is -- just like every other couch they've looked at so far.

"None of them have been right."

He's got that look in his eyes like he's been knocking on doors in a structure fire for too long.

"Are we worried about aesthetics, here, or comfort, or whether or not they fit the space? Eddie warned me about Clipboard Buck but maybe you should pull up your notes app and make a pro con list."

Evan flushes. Darts a glance down at his feet, and his thumbs dig into the seams of his hoodie pocket. "I just thought I'd walk in and find what I was looking for. Sort of thought it'd just - call to me, or something."

"It's a couch Evan, not a lifetime commitment."

And Evan flushes deeper, cheeks pinking, lips twisting. Tommy, who's been hovering nearby while Evan tests out what feels like half a million identical couches, feels himself sigh, bending and twisting to settle next to him, one hand reaching out to squeeze at Evan's knee.

"So it seems like maybe there's a story here I'm not aware of."

It sort of tumbles out of Evan, then, a rush of half apologies and stumbling explanations, and Tommy thinks of the snatches of conversations they've had about their past partners, their admittedly not great parents.

"And - you know, I just thought. I mean. I figured." He gestures, vaguely, and then more pointedly, a glance from beneath his lashes to catch Tommy's gaze as he waggles a finger between the two of them.

Oh.

Tommy waits a beat. Sometimes it's better to let Evan work it out in his own head for a second.

Also, he's - sort of reeling, a bit. Too much, too soon, he'd thought, but here he was, unaware of the significance of being asked on this little errand until he suddenly wasn't, and -

"Sorry. That's - it's not like - anyway, I've clearly put way too much weight into the couch thing, you're right, it's just a couch."

He's been ignoring the urge to curl his fingers around Evan's for the better part of two hours, now. He doesn't question it, usually, but in this specific scenario it's felt too couple-y, too forward, too much like begging a sales associate to make some assumptions Evan wasn't prepared to deal with.

Evan's still twisting his hands together inside the pocket of his jacket, and Tommy makes the snap decision before he can talk himself out of it - two fingers tucking into the pocket, pressing into the meat of Evan's palm, pressing up and pulling without any real force, and it's like Evan deflates, a bit, hand immediately following the soft drag out of the fabric to curl four fingers around Tommy's palm.

"It doesn't have to be just a couch."

---

They have their first fight, navigating the stairwell up to Evan's floor, and situate it in the room in stony silence. Tommy considers leaving, once it's exactly as Evan wants it. He's good at that - jumping ship at the first sign of trouble, and he has to swallow the urge down while Evan glares a hole into the armrest.

He's just opening his mouth to speak when Evan's voice drifts over to him, quieter than he'd expected. "I really don't want it to just be a couch."

And Tommy's never -

He's dated plenty of people - cared for less, and loved very few, but he's never steeped shit in metaphor and he's also never gone from "attracted to the straight guy again" to "this inanimate object is a symbol of our relationship" in -- ever.

"Evan."

There's a flatness to his voice that only ever comes out when he's truly upset, and he hates it, hates that he can just shut it all off. He makes a conscious effort, unfurls the fists shoved into his pants pockets. Tries again.

"We're hiring someone if you ever wanna move that damn thing again."

Evan's smile splits across his face like the sun breaking over the horizon.

---

Christopher eyes the couch with suspicion.

"It's a lot bigger than your old ones," he finally manages, with a shifty glance between the two of them, and Tommy has to remind himself that Evan had gone down a rabbit hole of research trying to find the best way to clean leather once they'd finally gotten over themselves and proceeded with the making up part of their argument.

Eddie clocks the look running across his face, and makes a face at Evan. Evan tucks his tongue into his cheek, but he can't quite hide his grin, and Tommy tries not to imagine the next time they'll need to go furniture shopping.

---

"Can I admit something?" Evan asks, fingers shifting across the expanse of Tommy's chest, head tucked neatly beneath his chin.

Tommy hums, still half asleep, trying to ignore the crick in his neck and the wide expanse of his lower back that keeps sinking into the crack between the cushions.

Evan presses his lips lazily into the side of Tommy's neck. "I actually hate this couch. It's the worst."

Tommy laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more when Evan presses up on his elbow to pout straight into his face.

Tommy can't help but curl a palm around his jaw, ring and middle finger sliding up to cup his cheek, reaching for the marks at his brow. "Can we skip the torture of another horrendous shopping trip and just toss this one to the curb when I ask you to move in with me?"

He only stills for half a moment, eyes already bright and wide and happy before he nods. "When?" he repeats, all puppy enthusiasm as he buries his face back in Tommy's neck.

"Keep it to yourself, though, I haven't decided how I'm gonna ask. Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

Evan hums, fingers drifting down his arm, now - it's a familiar, teasing path that always drives Tommy a little wild, and - yep, they skate over his wrist, dancing right along the length of his fingers and down across his hip, little finger spreading wide towards his inseam.

---

Evan breaks his couch the first night all his things have been unpacked.

He makes a little pleased hum, low in his throat, when Tommy pulls up the same site he'd used to buy it, adds three to his cart, and passes the laptop off to Evan for opinions. Curls a warm hand around the back of Tommy's neck, presses his lips to the crown of Tommy's head. Tommy takes a moment to enjoy the feel of it.

"Pick one," he manages through gritted teeth when Evan nips at his earlobe.

"It's just a couch, babe, whichever one you want."

[despairots]

could you do a story where miles from earth-42 and our miles are twins and we cant decide which one we like better as we like both of them? you can write the story however you want to!

━━━━━━━━ if i were you, i’d do me.

earth1610! miles morales x gn! hacker! reader x earth42! miles morales. fluff and if you like squint really really hard you’ll find angst. 18 and above please dni, unless your my moot or something… i forgot to change my requests to open but u can send me requests (only abt atsv) just like be patient cuz im daydreaming and shit 🙏

pls ignore the title its nothing suggestive i was braindead and was listening to my saved audios on tiktok this was thw first one on my saved so el oh el 🤕 i gotta keep my writing grind up. keep in mind that earth 1610 miles will keep beinf spiderman and earth 42 will keep being prowler. if y dont know sliver wolf from hsr, switch her up cuz reader is heavily based off of her

this’ll be left on a cliffhanger cuz like idk i just dont wanna make another part and sometimes things are better off with cliffhangers since you guys have creative minds you can come up with your own scenarios

where in a dimension, earth42 and earth1610 miles morales are twins, may look the same but have completely different hairstyles and different personalities also another weird, interesting fact, you’re a sucker for twins, especially them.

interesting fact about you, specifically you, is that you almost got caught by the government when hacking into their system to steal some information.

and of course, them having connections to spiderman, told him to go after this hacker who causes a lot of trouble for the government.

miles morales obviously being under that mask and friends with this hacker who knew that you hated authority (yes, you’re an anarchist), didn’t bother doing anything, probably just telling you to stop messing with them.

on the other hand, his twin bother, myles morales, encourages this behaviour. polar opposites but two cuties, and you, who got roped into romance with them.

“[name], what’d i say about hacking the government?” miles scolded you as you chewed on bubblegum with your feet propped onto your desk, holographic screens in front of you.

“i don’t know, me forgot.” you nonchalantly shrugged, spinning your chair to go back to your screens and swiping left to play the weeknd.

miles spinning you back and placing his arms on your arm rests, too close to your liking.

you smirked with a light scoff, “your brother likes it.” miles rolls his eyes at the mention of him, “i don’t care what he likes.” he snapped back, obviously lying.

miles leaned back with a sigh, “god, what am i gonna do with you?” “maybe get off my ass.” you muttered, not knowing if miles heard that, to which he did.

“i’m sorry, what?”

you jumped at that, quickly shooting your arms up and trying to find excuses, opening your mouth like a fish.

your voice’s overlapped eachother, unable to hear his twin brother opening the door to your room, mask off and everything.

he looked at you who kept stumbling on words.

miles spider sense went off and looked at the entrance, seeing the one guy who encourages your behaviour, “what - what did you tell them?” myles smirked and shrugged.

“i didn’t say anything, bro.” he placed his claws on your bed and sat down on it, “i am not your bro.” miles chuckled and sat down on your bean bag.

“um actually-“

“shut up.”

“cope.” you playfully stuck your tongue out at miles who smiled and rolled his eyes, god you loved his smile. i mean, what?

you don’t love them, boo, you hate them.

“dude, tell [name] that if i don’t catch the ‘hacker’ i’m gonna get my ass kicked.” miles and his brother made eye contact, “i hope you do.” myles replied with a playful tone.

miles threw his hands up, “you guys are actually evil.” you laughed at his comment, “we’re actually vigilantes.” myles pointed out, patting his brother’s shoulder (the bean bag literally beside your bed).

you smiled at the two with light pigment on your cheeks, “i really wanna kiss you guys—“ you paused your sentence with embarrassment, realizing you were saying your thoughts out loud.

the two paused and looked at you, blinking, “eso es adorable, amor—“ “get out.”

“¿qué dijiste, amor?”

“i hate you guys. kill yourselves. espero que te resbales y te caigas en tu próxima misión.” you rolled your eyes and buried your face into your hands as the two twins looked at eachother.

“you don’t mean that, amor.” you groaned at the nickname the two labelled you. it made you want to giggle, twirl your hair and kick your feet like a schoolgirl.

you blushed when you felt an arm sneak around your neck, hugging you against your chair with their head beside your ear, “te gustamos los dos, ¿verdad, amor?”

god, you couldn’t choose between the two.

[name] when they keep getting teased and literally cannot deal with it.

[marauroon]

okay so i saw your requests were open and decided to shoot my shot. so i have oral fixation and i always have something in my mouth, like im either always chewing on the back of a pen or pencil (I've lost count on how many times I've eaten wood like that 💀), or biting my nails or just subconsciously clenching my jaw hard. or, (pls don't judge me) i bite people. not very hard, of course.

so my request was, can you do sirius black x reader with oral fixation like this? maybe you could, I donno know, make it fluff? im tired of seeing so much smut on here and i don't even read smut.

you could definitely ignore this if you're busy or don't want to write it, it's completely up to you and no pressure!! love your writing, btw!!

(sorry for the long request)

sirius black x reader | 0.6k | fluff | masterlist.

thank you for the request sweetheart 🫶

It was late at night in the Gryffindor common room, and the fire was dying down to embers. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes half-closed as you absentmindedly chewed on the end of your quill. You didn’t even realize how close you were to biting through it until Sirius Black, stretched out lazily next to you, nudged your shoulder.

“You’re going to gnaw right through that thing, you know, love,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

Startled, you looked down at the battered quill in your hand, a bit sheepish. “Can’t help it,” you murmured. “If it’s not the quill, it’s something else.”

Sirius’s smile grew wider, his fingers brushing your wrist as he leaned in a little closer. “I’ve noticed,” he said. “You’re always chewing on something, like a squirrel or a little…bitey thing,” His grin was teasing but kind. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling back, not denying it.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, popping the quill back in your mouth as you tried to focus on the parchment in front of you. Sirius, however, was not going to let it go so easily. He rested his arm on the back of the couch, leaning closer still, his shoulder pressing into yours.

“I mean, quills are one thing, but you’ve got a habit of nipping people, too.” He gave you a mock-serious look, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be on the lookout for a sneak attack?”

You felt your face heat up at his words, and you pretended to concentrate on your parchment, though you knew he wasn’t fooled. “I don’t bite hard,” you defended, laughing. “Just… sometimes I get this urge, and it’s just easier to…” You trailed off, hoping he’d drop it, but Sirius just looked more intrigued.

“Well, I think it’s adorable,” he said, surprising you. “And honestly, if you need something to sink your teeth into, you can always use me. I’m tough, I can take it,” he added with a wink.

You laughed, flustered. “What, you’re volunteering?”

“Of course,” he replied, shifting a bit closer and stretching his arm behind you. “I’m here to help with any of your needs,” he said, his tone light but with a glint of genuine affection in his eyes. “Especially the weird ones.”

You bit your lip, the urge to play along rising. “Okay, Sirius,” you said, leaning closer and pretending to inspect his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He chuckled, watching you with a mixture of amusement and warmth, his face inches from yours. And maybe it was the glow of the firelight or the way he was looking at you, but it felt natural to lean in and playfully bite against his nose, just a quick nip, before pulling back in satisfied.

Sirius let out a laugh, his eyes widening a little in surprise before he broke into a smile, beaming as if you’d given him some kind of prize. “Oh, so that’s what it feels like!” he joked, scrunching up his nose in faux pain before lurching forward to place a messy kiss against your mouth. “Worth it.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Love, oh love

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, September 2023 edition. Third time IS the charm, I guess.

Prompt: charm, 548 words

Rated: M

CW: some sexual innuendo, excessive use of British English

Notes: Bitches be like "OMG, you can't make Steve use British slang, it ruins the viiibe!!!" - Me: Watch me! 😘

The first time it happens, they're on the sofa at Harrington Manor - Robin cuddled into Steve’s left side, Eddie not-quite tucked into his right. Some action flick from Family Video is running, not that Eddie is watching. Too preoccupied with how the lights bounce off that handsome face.

Steve gets up, pauses the movie. Robin glares as she slips off his shoulder. 

"Sorry," Steve mumbles. "Need to go to the loo." 

And then he's gone and Eddie … stares. 

"Did he … just say loo?"

Robin catches some popcorn with her mouth.

"Oh yeah, it's something he does. His nanny was British. Just ignore it, he's kind of self-conscious about it." 

Eddie gulps, ears prickling with heat. 

"He's fucking adorable is what he is." 

Robin gags and slaps him, and none of them loses another word about it. 

*

Eddie tries to ignore it, it's just ... not that easy. 

The closer they get, the more he notices. How Steve will sometimes … slip. 

Tell Eddie to keep his hands off the dough while they're wrapped around each other in the kitchen, it's for the biscuits.

Stir while half asleep in Eddie’s arms, mumbling about popping by the store tomorrow, because they're out of chips. 

It always happens when Steve's guard is down, when he feels safe. Safe with him. The thought makes warmth bloom in Eddie’s chest. 

*

And then he can't ignore it anymore. 

They're at the quarry, just the two of them. Spread out in the grass, gazing up at the dusk-streaked sky, sun dipping behind the trees.

"Hey," Steve murmurs against Eddie's shoulder, breath tickling his skin. "Can you get my jumper from the boot? It's getting cold." 

Eddie swallows around the beat of his own heart in his throat. "Yeah, sure." 

As he makes to get up, Steve turns his head and presses a sloppy kiss to the edge of his mouth. 

"Thanks, love." 

Eddie freezes. Not only because of the way the word comes out - all soft and long on the v-sound, the vowel more u than o. Also because it's the first time. 

Steve sees his expression - and his face morphs from lazy bliss to horror. 

"Oh shit," He shoots upright, hides his face between hunched knees. "This is so embarrassing." 

"Hey," Eddie is next to him in an instant, disentangles his hands from his hair. "Stevie, what is it?" 

Steve groans, looks up at him, face flushed all the way down to the moles on his neck. 

"I slipped. Didn’t want you to know." 

Eddie can't help it, he snorts a laugh. "Yeah well, you've been doing it for a while." 

Steve's eyes go wide with disbelief. "And you … you don't think it's stupid or-" 

"I think," Eddie grins, and grabs Steve’s face in both hands so that he can kiss the bridge of his nose. "It's completely and utterly charming. In fact, I want you to say it again." 

"... Jumper?" 

"No, baby. The other one." 

Eddie nips at a pink bottom lip and the word rushes out on a breathy moan. 

"L- love?" 

"Exactly." He pushes Steve to the ground, kissing down his jaw and neck. "Now … how about you take off these trousers … and I make you say it some more?"

[cheegu3]

Hii! HAPPY NEW YEAR!🥳💗

Could I please request an Enha mafia reaction where someone drugs your drink

Hope you stay healthy & happy this year💛🧡

hii happy new year, ty, you too sweetheart 🥳🤍🤍 !! <3 & sorry for the late reply I had already fallen asleep before I got this

(ignore how hee & sunoo’s pics don’t match lol)

warnings; yandere/mafia themes, drugging, possessiveness, violence, murder, swearing, overprotectiveness, fighting, misogyny/predatory men, indications of attempted SA

mafia!enha - reaction to someone drugging your drink

Jungwon

He was angry but controlled, knowing that making a scene could have consequences for the future. Silently he managed to keep an eye on you while finishing the business deal in the crowded cubicle he was in; and when he saw your head starting to drop and your eyelids fluttering shut, he told his guards to carry you out to his car.

Calm and composed, he walked out after about an hour of socially drinking with his business partners, so as to not alert the others that something was wrong.

While home Jungwon tucked you in and shushed you when you woke up. With his sharp eyes, he noticed one of the nasty men eying you in the bar, so he knew exactly who it was.

'' Baby you need to be quiet, it's very late, '' he whispered and put a hand over your mouth.

His other hand patted the covers in a soothing manner.

'' Can you do that for me? ''

You nodded, but couldn't help the whine that slipped past your lips when he pulled away and stood up.

'' You're leaving? ''

Something glimmered in his eyes and he smirked. '' I have something to do. But it won't take long. ''

One more time, he came to the bed and kissed your forehead before leaving to take care of the guy. Since he was calculated and precise, he'd never be suspected, and the body? Never to be found.

Heeseung

He was visibly seething and threw the drink into a plant. You barely knew what was going on since you hadn’t caught the guy slipping by your table.

Heeseung took your hand and dragged you home without explaining himself. He shut you into a room, locked it, and set a timer.

With his leg bouncing anxiously he ignored your screams for him to let you out of the room.

When the timer went off he opened it and pulled you into his arms, sighing in relief.

“ What the fuck was that? “ you pulled away from him, eyes shooting daggers.

“ I wasn’t sure if you had already had some. “

“ Some what…alcohol? “

“ A guy drugged your drink. I didn’t see him until after, but my bodyguard did. “

Your mouth fell open, and for a moment you struggled to speak as shock overwhelmed you. Once you regained your consciousness, another question popped into your head.

“ Why did you lock me in though? “

“ I don’t- “ his forehead creased and he almost looked like thinking hurt his head, “ It just seemed the most logical, in case you’d try to leave. “

Sometimes you didn’t understand his reasoning at all. Every decision regarding you seemed to be done purely on paranoia or a ‘ hunch ‘ he couldn’t explain.

“ Now sweetheart, tell me - how do you want me to kill him? “

Jay

He was furious on the inside but it was hard to notice at first glance. It had all happened so quickly; Jay went to the bathroom and during those three minutes, a man had struck up a conversation with you while his friend sprinkled the drug in your glass.

From afar, he could spot the men and immediately grew angry with jealousy. The first thing he did when reaching the table was to grab the man hard by the arm and pull him up on his feet.

He spitefully spat out, '' Fuck you, '' under his breath.

The men's eyes widened when they recognized him and they scurried away. He had quite the reputation on the street. Possessive, crazy, psycho, madly in love - were all things he'd heard people say about him before.

'' Are you okay? ''

You hesitated, scared that he was angry at you too, and would accuse you of cheating on him. Jay picked up on your difficulty in forming words.

'' Did they hurt you? ''

Your tense shoulders relaxed. So he wasn't angry at you.

'' No, I'm okay. ''

You picked up the glass and sipped on it, still feeling a bit shaken up from the incident, but also feeling much better now that your boyfriend relaxed and had given you a warm smile.

After the pair of you had recovered, everyone at the table started talking again. You just sat back quietly while drinking shyly. Not being much of a talker meant you mostly just listened while Jay, who was incredibly charming, talked to anyone and everyone.

It got harder to focus on the conversation. Your head had started spinning and you cursed yourself for having the bad habit of drinking whenever you felt awkward in social settings.

It always lead to you getting drunk way too quickly.

When Jay felt you lean on him because your head was getting heavier and dizzier by the second, he got concerned. It had only been about five minutes since you started sipping on the drink.

He brought out the drink spike tester he forced you to carry around in your handbag just in case, being very grateful for it now.

Immediately it changed color, it was exactly as he had expected, your drink had been spiked. His usual stoic expression would reappear on his face while he processed the situation and tried to come up with a plan.

In the end, he decided to tell his men to ambush the building of another gang, since he recognized one of the men as a part of a rival gang.

They'd do some damage, but nothing too serious. It was well known that the quote ' an eye for an eye ' was held in high regard in the business. However, if he went too far, they'd return for revenge.

While his men left for their mission, Jay took you to a quieter part of the bar, where usually only V.I.P customers were allowed. There he laid your head in his lap and kept a close eye on you.

'' I'm so sorry, '' he mumbled, as guilt had started to take a hold of him.

Jake

Jake had never been that angry before. He was basically shaking with anger and his eyes darted from person to person.

“ Who the fuck was it? “

The bar fell silent. With bated breaths, everyone watched how his eyes zeroed in on an older guy sitting in the far corner. His heavy steps alerted the man that someone was approaching, but he didn't seem too alarmed. A small smile even played on his lips as he looked over his shoulder.

'' Was it you? ''

The man laughed mockingly. '' What? ''

'' Who drugged my girlfriend, you sick fuck! ''

'' If you didn't want her to be taken, you should've guarded her better. She was basically begging to be fucked, sitting there all alone while you paid her no attention, '' he shrugged.

Jake turned towards you. It stung that he had been too late. Your slumped-over form was the first thing he noticed when he went back to your table to give you a new drink.

He hadn't even been on a mission. It was the weekend and he just wanted to take his girlfriend out for some drinks since he'd been busy almost all week and barely seen her.

Clenching his teeth he turned back. Seeing you sleeping so soundly and innocently had convinced Jake. He kept thinking about what that man would do to you if he was alone with you.

So, overcome with emotion he swung his fist and hit the man right in the jaw. He screamed out and jumped back, causing him to fall off the bar stool.

Jake wasted no time in climbing on top of him and started delivering blow after blow, not even stopping after his knuckles were covered in blood.

He knew very well how much you hated when he used violence. Good thing you couldn't see him; that man would not be able to walk once he was done with him.

Sunghoon

You were the one who freaked out the most, not him. In fact, to you, he almost seemed too callous.

In a slow and monotone voice, he asked questions like he was a detective trying to solve a murder. At no point did he show much concern for your worsening state as the drug was causing you to feel sleepiness take over your body.

You sat down when it became very strong. Sunghoon just looked down at you and he ticked his tongue, telling you he was slightly irritated.

'' You didn't tell me who it was. ''

'' Is that really important now? '' you almost shouted.

He took a warning step in your direction to shut you up, which you did. Sometimes he upset you greatly by being too logical. He wasn't the type to comfort someone if they were crying. Instead, he'd want to solve whatever problem was causing them to be sad.

'' Tell me,'' he demanded.

You pointed to your friend group. Sunghoon had only been a few blocks away when you called him to say you thought your drink had been spiked. He came rushing over, cheeks flushed, and went straight to work.

As soon as your eyes met, you knew you didn't really want to tell him. In the past when someone had done something to you, you couldn't help but question if he used some dirty methods.

'' Which one? ''

His eyes scanned your friends. It had been the boyfriend of one of your friends, someone you hadn't met before. You bit on your lip, not wanting to cause any trouble.

'' The man with the hat, '' you quietly said, knowing that Sunghoon wouldn't give up until you told him.

'' Go wait with Heeseung. ''

'' What? Why? ''

'' I'm not gonna deal with your brattiness now. Go. ''

You walked to where you knew Sunghoon and his friends had hung out. The last thing you saw was your boyfriend approaching the group. You had a very bad feeling in your stomach.

Sunoo

He was panicking but tried to put on a strong front for you. His hand stroked the back of your head comfortingly.

'' It's okay. I'm here if you fall asleep. I won't let anyone hurt you. ''

His soft, lulling voice made your body relax and you started to lean against him. When he felt you fall asleep, his anxiety levels doubled.

He had no idea what to do. Should he be calm and try to construct a revenge plan later? Should he do it now? Or should he use an equally violent method to whoever had hurt his darling?

It was the bartender who had drugged your drink so he felt very awkward about confronting him. Instead, he discreetly called the cops and aided them in the investigation by giving statements and proof.

You slept through it all, only waking up when you'd been transported home. Immediately upon opening your eyes, you flinched away from Sunoo who was sitting on the bed watching over you.

It hadn't been long since he kidnapped you after falling in love at first sight while being out one night on a mission. You had never let your guard down around him, so knowing he had been around you as you slept, deeply unsettled you.

'' What did you do to me? You freak! '' you spat out and backed away.

He looked hurt. '' Nothing. I didn't drug you. ''

'' I was...drugged? ''

He nodded carefully and created some space between the two of you. At a loss for words with your brain being confused, he filled in the gaps for you.

'' I watched over you so no one would hurt you. ''

Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought.

Ni-ki

He quickly made a decision then and there as he was incredibly skilled at coming up with plans on the spot.

After checking on you, he was relieved to find out you hadn't drunk any of it. But that didn't stop him from burning up with rage on the inside.

On the outside, however, he was cool and controlled. Slowly he pieced together a plan and when it was done he went right into it, putting his best actor face on.

'' Did you just touch my girlfriend? '' his voice raised purposefully to catch the attention of the others.

The man looked confused and scared. He stammered as his eyes inspected his opponent.

'' What do you mean? I didn't do anything! ''

People had started whispering. It became impossible for the man to escape the dirty looks that were thrown his way. Knowing he was innocent of what he was accused of, the man grew panicked.

'' No, please! Don't believe him. He's lying. ''

Ni-ki held back the smirk he wanted to show him. He very quickly realized that to get revenge and ruin the man's reputation, he needed something stronger. Saying he drugged your drink when there was no proof and you hadn't even drunk it wasn't very smart.

You sat in the middle of the room, feeling like you were under a spotlight, even if no one paid any attention. Just like you, their eyes were glued to the two men.

Your face began to mirror the man's - horror, as it finally settled in what he was trying to do, and even more so at the fact that it was working.

People were getting louder, someone pressed a phone to their ear to presumably get help. But, most notably, the man had so quickly been seen as a virus. No one wanted to go close to him.

Satisfied, Ni-ki managed to slip out unnoticed and he pulled you up on your feet.

'' Didn't I do well, baby? '' he boasted devilishly.

[d34dg1rl5]

Hi! New follower here!

I don’t really know what you write for but I thought I’d ‘shoot my shot’! 😂

Do you think you could write ✨something✨ for a dbd? Like the killers (or at least Ghostface because I love him lol) meeting a new member who completely dominates the maps?

Like he/she/they/we know our way around the maps, know how to get away and even mess with the killers before getting away to safety.

(I’m basing this idea like a former player of the game just spawning into a game in the entity’s realm and just enjoying the whole experience, even if the occasional ✨hit✨ is unavoidable)

If not I completely understand, keep up the good work!! ❤️

Hello! I am so sorry for not seeing this earlier! Of course I can do this, I added some other killers to it too, I hope you like it!

Danny Johnson (Ghostface)

💀 You think you dominate the maps? Yeah, you might. But he knows them the best.

💀 You navigate through the maps, knowing them better than your own house. But suddenly Danny jumps out from around the corner.

💀 "Did you really think I didn't study those maps all these years I've been here? How cute!" He aims for your chest but you manage to dodge his attack, earning a cut across your arm.

💀 "Shit-" You run as fast as you can knowing your way around the MacMillan Estate. Now someone just needs to open that stupid exit gate, so you all can escape! Danny hasn't even killed one yet, what is up with him today?

💀 The siren blares and the timer starts to run down. Quickly you make your way across the map and finally reach the opened exit gate, the way to freedom - for now.

💀 Just as you want to get to the sweet exit gate, Danny suddenly jumps out from behind a bush, tackling you down. You're now laying on your back, Danny is sitting on your stomach.

💀 You can't see it but he is grinning behind his mask. "Not so snarky now, are we?" He puts his knife to your cheek, slowly digging the sharp blade to it, drawing blood.

💀 "Goodbye, toots. You gotta study a little bit more if you want to handle me!" With that, he plunges his knife into your chest multiple times. Just before everything goes black he lifts his mask a little above his mouth, pressing a little kiss to your cheek. "See you!~"

Frank Morrison (Legion)

🎭 Frank gets tired after a few minutes of chasing you around the Yamaoka Estate. How the hell are you even that good?!

🎭 He gives up and just lets you run away. But this made you turn and look at him. "What? Are you tired?" You giggle waiting for his reaction.

🎭 Frank angrily turns towards you, gripping his knife tightly in his hand. "Shut the fuck up, you asshole! Just fucking get lost! You should be grateful that I'm not killing you on the spot!"

🎭 You shake your head. "I'm just too good at looping you. You're too slow."

🎭 Frank grunts and suddenly goes into frenzy mode. He lunges forward but you quickly loop him again, making him yell in frustration.

🎭 "I will fucking get you next time, twat!" He angrily walks off, not bother to chase you again for the remaining trial.

Max Thompson Jr. (Hillbilly)

⚒️ Max is angry. And sad. And frustrated. And doubts his abilities as a killer. Just because of you!

⚒️ As soon as he sees you're in a trial with him, he ignores you completely. He won't give in to the annoying clicking sounds of your flashlight or to you hopping in and out of a locker to make him come to you.

⚒️ You know your way around every map imaginable. Even when he's tunneling you it's a rare occasion when he actually lands a hit.

⚒️ Like I said, he starts to ignore you. He doesn't care if he displeases the Entity by not sacrificing you. He'd rather be punished than to put up with you looping him the whole time and dropping pallets on his head (his head already hurts!).

⚒️ If he sees you at the exit gates, he SOMETIMES tries a chainsaw attack but you dodge it as always.

⚒️ He's trying his best, but you're just way too good.

Me re-reading this realizing it's so bad because I didn't write a fanfiction in AGES:

Also. I am now part of the CoD community. Ghost and König got my heart. And Soap too. Oh my god, did y'all know how König is austrian?? It's so funny because I'm austrian too?? Like whaaaaaat. Anyways, feel free to send asks, inbox is open! Love youuuu ❤️✨

[yanderecrazysie]

I read the nsfw alphabet of Asmodeus, can you do that with Lucifer? Thx<3

Sure thing!

Note: I’m doing headcanons, alphabets, and profiles much, much quicker than my oneshots, if you’d prefer to send them in, they’ll be done quickly.

WARNINGS: yandere themes, very NSFW, mentions of non-con

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Lucifer is not good at aftercare. He tries to put his arm around you, but that’s about it. He does his best to ignore your sniffles and tears because they make him feel guilty.

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Lucifer likes his hair because he secretly likes when you pull on it or, best of all, card your fingers through it.

On you, he finds his eyes drifting down to your breasts on many occasions. It’s just something his eyes always seem to look at.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Lucifer eats healthy, so his cum is fairly nice tasting. He has an average amount of cum, but it seems to stick to you more that normal.

D: Dirty Secret

Lucifer likes to be in control, yes, but he has had the occasional vision of you being in control. However his pride would never, ever allow that.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Barely experienced. He’s a handsome man, but he turns people down most of the time. He has too much pride for a one night stand and he hasn’t had any serious relationships before you.

F: Favorite Position

Doggy style- he wants to be in complete control. He also loves the way your breasts swing back and forth in that position.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

Lucifer is deadly serious. Not a single joke will ever leave his mouth.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Lucifer keeps himself very well-trimmed. Sometimes he shaves all of it off. And yes, the pubic hair is black.

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Lucifer isn’t very romantic, but he loves to hold your hands in his during sex. He always hopes that’s enough comfort for you, since he’s not sure what else to do.

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Lucifer is not really one to masturbate. He’s tries it sometimes, but it doesn’t match up to the real thing at all.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucifer loves seeing you in lingerie so he can rip it apart to get to your sexy body. He can be a sadist sometimes too, but not too bad.

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He prefers in a bed at his home. He’s not into public sex.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

While you in general get him going, seeing you partially or entirely naked makes him absolutely feral (on the inside)

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s too prideful to let you take control and he doesn’t like eating you out, sorry.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Very much receiving. He doesn’t like to lower himself to giving, but he absolutely loves seeing you on your knees with his cock hitting the back of your throat.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

He’s fast, but not too rough. Occasionally he’ll grind against your cervix before resuming his quick thrusts.

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

He doesn’t mind them, but he’d prefer a long, drawn out session.

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) 

Lucifer is fine with trying most things, as long as he’s dominant. He’d especially like to try some BDSM stuff.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Lucifer can go about 3 rounds most of the time, though he might be shooting blanks. He doesn’t mind just going once, but he does have a lot of stamina.

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No toys, sorry! He’s sure he knows how to make you horny with just his fingers. Plus he’s, you know, prideful, and toys doing better than him is a no-no.

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease, he does what he wants and does it well.

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Lucifer is pretty quiet, with the occasional grunt. When he cums, he lets out a quiet groan.

W: With or without consent (Non-con or consensual?)

Lucifer doesn’t care whether you’re willing or not. If he wants you, he gets you.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Lucifer isn’t very girthy, but his length makes up for that. His dick is a pretty pale color, with a tip that gets darker when it starts to leak precum. It has a few small veins on it.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Lucifer has a low sex drive, but when he wants you, he needs to get his hands on you.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Lucifer falls asleep after you because he wants to make sure you’re alright before he drifts off.

[bruciemilf]

#like - ill be very transparent. sometimes i write fem bruce solely for harvey or clark eating pussy content KSKSKS #but thats very much achievable with trans bruce so

!!!!! ohhhh pleasepleaseplease give us a few headcanons/some content!! there's not enough trans!bruce out there esp. with harv and clark!

OH MANNN. MAN. MAN. so!! I don't know If you had a set preference between nsfw or sfw and/or harv an clark hcs,, so I think it'll be a mix for both!

Warnings/tags: Degradation, housewife kink, dirty talk, name calling, breeding kink, daddy kink mention, size kink

Transitioned early; Martha, Thomas, and Alfred were as discreet as a star family gets in Gotham City, where the media's eyes never shuts. Which is never enough.

They couldn't pay rich people, media people to ignore the Bruce before the Real Bruce. But if you cared about your life even a little bit, and you didn't want to die under Thomas' scalpel, you kept your mouth shut.

Bruce got in a stage where he was cis passing enough that people didn't think twice to call him a man; I feel like he grew up around healthy examples of masculinity, but when you're in college? You try to make up for your lacks.

There's a subgenre of sexism among men tbh, that its like, specifically To them; It's like, misogyny in the open, but they victimise eachother about it.

Bruce can't quite understand why drinking and hooking up and getting blasted without even worrying there's a pill in your drink is necessarily masculine. It's certainly a privilege, thought, and he's a bit (a lot) bitter abt it

Also most def carries testosterone shots on his batman belt that he accidentally injects instead of adrenaline like, all the time.

Oh, and testosterone and estrogen? Free in Gotham. Courtesy to Wayne Enterprises

Bruce not giving a wet fuck about gender norms in the slightest bit; He'll rock a coral pink tennis skirt and shiny, peach perfumed lip gloss.

He'll rock divine silk dresses. He'll look angelic with motor oil smudged on his cheek from breaking into the autoshop.

And he doesn't really care who has what to say about it, because Harvey Dent? Can't peel his eyes off of him, and that's enough of an achievement for Bruce.

(Nsfw HCs ahead!!!)

Harvey always always worries he might say the wrong thing; the wrong name, (they have a very soft spot for Princess and Baby)

Harvey calls him Baby Girl while Bruce worked him hard with his hand and mouth, dragging holy noises out of him with just a few tugs, and Harvey apologizes profusely

" My masculinity won't shrivel up and die because of a name, Harv. Even I'm not that fragile. "

Bruce is a big time virgin but no surprise there; Have you seen that man. He falls apart at a few words and gets wet so easily it's ridiculous.

Batman riding Harvey's thigh while he's supposed to interrogate him? It's more likely than you think

That being said, he's big on degradation; Harvey calls him a perfect little slut and Bruce's brain goes fuzzy and dim. I'm sorry, but Battinson has huge " pls just break me and take care of me after" energy I am PROFITING

With Clark it's almost the same, because personally? Mean Clark. Mean Clark who'll grip Bruce's diamond sharp jaw and make those strawberry lips pucker. Just to watch those pretty eyes roll back. " Aww. Are you that needy, darlin '?"

HARVEY AND CLARK AND BRUCE? biggest housewife kinks. I'm sorry, don't shoot the messenger, they SPECIFICALLY told me to tell YOU that they love Bruce in a pink apron, legs spread open on the kitchen counter while they're " having dinner"

THE BREEDING KINK???? Bruce rides the hell out Harvey/Clark, making an absolute mess on their laps, whining, squirming, sobbing up a storm because he DEF cries during sex, and he's begging so sweetly

" please-- please, can - can I have a baby? Please? Pretty please? For me, daddy? For daddy's little wife?"

He's very persuasive when he wants to be

And as the tags mentioned; Bruce has his legs spread open wide more often than not.

If he's not laying on his back, getting the soul slurped and licked and milked out of him, he's most definetly riding Clark's or Harvey's faces and I'll die on that hill.

Harvey/Clark love how fucking Big they are compared to him. They love Bruce is small enough to move around, but big amd strong enough to grope and manhandle. Praise kink is on Heavily. " That's a good boy. "

This man's pussy makes Harvey/Clark CRY. They're completely addicted to him. Bruce is all day everyday getting spread on princess pink sheets, lingerie shredded, heels digging in his partner's back and getting SERVICED like he deserves

Pillow princess 100%%%

He likes hard stuff, but he's Very fragile in the after-care process. He's ashamed of ask for it because he's affectionate, or starves for it anyway, and doesn't expect to receive it because he didn't until Then

But it's all so soft, after. Gentle kisses. Harvey/Clark carrying him around everywhere, not minding clingy arms or sharp nails squeezing their shoulders. They're happy to hold that big baby for hours

Gets the baby he wants but like. Of course it's conceived in the dirtiest baby making sex you'll ever hear of. RIP Harvey's old DA office/car and Clark's family barn

That's all folks!!!

[averagewriter777]

ghost/tall masked reader?

Oh gosh this was so much fun. Sorry it took so long!

For those who don't know, a corporal is a higher rank than both a captain and lieutenant. And sometimes, with wars raging, you have to go around and help where you can. Oh- and not everything is knowledgable to the military... in this case at least. There is also no gender for this reader :)

You hated hearing it. The same sentence every time you enter a room or a new situation. Your reaction was the same each time too: a big eye roll and a rough ‘thanks’ or ‘fuck off’. It was either being in line or out of line for this.

“Jesus Christ, Price. You didn’t tell us we’d be having a fucking skyscraper on our team.” You didn’t really like Sergeant MacTavish, for several reasons. He acted too loosely around serious matters, even in missions, apparently. And in your specific line of work, you’d like to take everything seriously.

Price pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Soap. Shut up. You’re supposed to make them feel welcome.” He turned to you, shooting an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, Corporal Riley. It’ll get better. Usually around here, rank is ignored in situations as such.” 

That didn’t make you feel any better, especially considering how you looked. You stood at a whopping 6’11” and weren’t afraid to show the muscles on your skin. A metal skull mask covered the bottom half of your face, where nasty scars littered across your chin and lips. Heavy bags were painted under your (e/c) eyes too. Long story short, you scared several teams… Laswell said you’d do good on this one, because someone by the name of ‘Ghost’ did roughly the same thing you did… scare people, that is.

You’d seen him around, but hadn’t gotten the chance to personally speak with him. By the looks of it, Ghost was a private guy and didn’t like to be bothered. You weren’t about to poke the bear with him until he came to you first, even though you should be going around introducing yourself.

Currently, you were speaking with Price about some training exercises to go through. Some stuff from old teams- unlike what they’d been doing here. “This course has improved efficiency within men in the past. I understand Task 141 contains the best of the best, but there’s nothing wrong with challenging them.” You were showing him a much more complicated version of the weapons training course. “But you call the shots here, it’s your team.”

Price set his cigar between his fingers and out of his mouth, about to speak- but the door to the office opened without a knock. You frowned under your mask while Price simply let out a sigh. “Ghost, you need to learn to knock now. The Corporal and I could’ve been having a serious conversation.”

“Sorry,” Ghost apologized quietly. His eyes bore into yours, narrowing and widening for a second, then he looked at Price. “Sir, I need to speak with the Corporal for a second. I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet either.” 

The Captain brought the cigar to his lips again, looking at you. You shrugged. “I’ll give you a chance to look over, consider everything. I’ll be back, John.” You set down the paper you’d been showing him and followed Ghost out of the room. He led you to a small corner that was out of ear shot from everything. “Right then, Ghost. I’ve been here three days, why the sudden meet-up?”

Ghost looked around, which meant moving his head around your body, to make sure the coast was completely clear. He took off his gloves, shoving them into his pockets. On his left hand, revealed a tattoo’d ring on his ring finger. Your eyes slowly widened as his mask came off next. “(Y/n), I’d first like to say I’m sorry for not telling you--”

Your hands went to his cheeks as you smiled under your mask. “A skull mask… I couldn’t recognize you when you had it on. Even with your pretty blue eyes…” The tension in Simon’s shoulders slowly released as you spoke. “They didn’t tell me you’d be here, but this is nice. It’s good to see my husband still alive after not seeing him for five months.”

Two years into your marriage and the longest Simon had ever been gone was a couple weeks. But after everything with Shepard, his time of deployment increased. You’d had a heavy heart about it, especially considering how lucky you’d been as well with your own assignments. Simon, or Ghost in this case, hadn’t gotten the chance to call, email or write to you at all. The 141 was on their toes all of the time.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, darling.” He removed your hands from his face, reaching for yours. Usually, you’d flinch if someone touched the metal mask- but he’d always been different. “You can see how busy we’ve all been. I would’ve loved to contact you in any way…”

You stopped his hands from unattaching the mask. You looked down at him, sad he couldn’t see the large grin that had crossed your lips. “You didn’t scare me, love. Just worried. Why don’t we go catch up? My room is just down the corridor.”

Simon blinked a few times. “Sure, the mask is coming off, right?” He looked up at you as he put on his own. The familiar glint in your eyes gave him the answer. “Fuck.”

“Indeed.” You grabbed his left hand and rushed both of you as quickly as possible to your room. The new training exercises could wait.

[vodika-vibes]

I‘m sorry for requesting yet again buuuuut I find myself in desperate need for some spicy Mereel content after the wonderful things you wrote for him, I think at this point your single-handedly fueling my obession with him 😅 sooo to get to the point, maybe Mereel is always teasing the reader and making spicy innuendos and at one point the reader just snaps and tells him to put his money where his mouth is and then he does? If this makes you uncomfortable or anything feel free to ignore this 🙈

thank you 🥰🥰

Challenge

Summary: Mereel is able to talk a good game, but you want him to prove that he can actually follow through on his promises.

Pairing: Mereel Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 1156

Warnings: Smut. ish. Smut Adjacent?

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: Feel free to request as much as you like! I'll always get to it eventually! And I suppose someone has to write the Skirata boys, so it might as well be me, lol.

Divider by Saradika

Mereel is always around you. Which is impressive seeing as the Republic is at war, and you’re pretty sure that he has a job to do. But no. It seems like he’s always there.

Sometimes he makes little quips that are just suggestive enough that you aren’t sure if he meant it like it sounds, or if you just have a filthy mind.

Other times he’s touching you. His hand on your shoulder, on your lower back, on your hip, on the back of your neck. Nothing inappropriate, and yet his touch burns like fire.

But you can ignore it. You have ignored it. For months now.

Ironically, if you hadn’t ignored it, you likely wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

It starts innocently enough. Or, well, as innocently as Mereel could be.

He makes a comment, something just slightly suggestive and slightly off color, and instead of ignoring it, like you normally do, you shoot back a quip that is just as suggestive.

And then the conversation turns, his voice lowers and his gaze becomes heated, and you’re helpless to do anything but match his intensity. So he moves closer to you, until his leg is pressed against yours and he’s whispering his jokes into your ear.

It is, frankly, overwhelming. 

But you’ve always been stubborn, so you dig your heels in and you give as good as you get, even if your face is burning.

And then he drags his gaze down your body, as though he’s mentally undressing you. And you decide enough is enough. It’s time for Mereel to put his money where his mouth is, so to speak.

So you flash him a flirty little smile, and pretend not to notice the way his gaze locks on your lips or the way lust flares in his eyes, “You spend so much time flirting with me,” You coo as you lean in so your lips are brushing his ear, “You’ve proven you can talk the talk, but can you walk the walk, darling?”

You drag your lips down his jaw to his neck, and press a slow, lingering, kiss against his pulse point. And Mereel releases a shaky exhale and you notice his fingers flexing against the rough material of the couch.

You move your lips back to his ear, “I’m going to my room now, you have…oh…an hour. If you don’t show up in that time, then I’m going to assume you’re not interested, and I’ll just have to take care of myself.”

His breath hitches, and you smile and press a hot kiss just beneath his ear, and then you pull away and saunter your way out of the room.

20 minutes. You give him 20 minutes to realize that the offer is serious. 20 minutes to get himself into gear. 20 minutes to get himself into your room. Time enough for you to get ready.

After all, there’s no doubt in your mind that Mereel will take you up on your offer.

You mistime things just a little, as 15 minutes after you shut your bedroom door, and just after you pull on your shimmersilk robe and tie it securely around your waist, there’s a knock on the door.

You open the door and smile at Mereel. His gaze is heated, but he keeps his gaze locked with yours. “If your offer is serious, then I want to take you up on it.”

Your smile morphs into a smug little grin as you move to the side to allow him into your room. You manage to get the door shut, and locked, before he’s on you.

His kiss is hard and demanding, but his hands are gentle as they slide over your robe. Your back bumps into the door as he presses you firmly against it.

Mereel pulls away enough to untie your robe, and when it falls open, he stops, his jaw slightly slack.

The robe was part of a set. And the lingerie that came with it was a set you’ve never worn before, far too luxurious to justify wearing to work. It’s blue and silver, and is very strappy and left very little to the imagination.

Mereel reverently pushes your robe to the floor, his gaze locked on the lingerie. His fingers are feather light as they trail over the delicate silver stitching, “Cyare,” His voice is surprisingly rough, “You look…” He trails off for a moment as his fingers find your nipple and he lightly pinches it, pulling a quiet moan from you.

He roughly pulls you away from the door and pushes you back onto the bed, “Two questions, cyare.” Mereel murmurs as he strips off his top, “First, do you wear stuff like that under your clothes all the time, because if you do I’m never going to get any work done ever.”

You flash a coy smile, “Maybe I don’t wear anything until my uniform.”

Mereel stops and he groans low and deep, “Babe. Holy shit, why would you tell me that?”

You grin at him innocently as you try to sit up, only to get pushed back down by gentle fingers, “It seems like something you should know.” And then you pout at him, “Let me touch you.”

“In a bit.” Your pout becomes a little more pronounced, and his gaze is sharp as he looks over you, “If you don’t behave, cyare,” Mereel says slowly, as if testing the waters, “I’ll have to tie you up.”

Your lips part slightly, and your face flushes, “Oh.”

And a laugh slips from Mereel, “Holy fuck, baby. You want me to tie you up, don’t you?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, “Maybe next time. After we can talk about the important shit.”

“Next time?” You breathe out.

“Next time.” Mereel promises, “Right. My second question. How much does this set cost and do I need to be careful with it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You reply immediately.

He hums thoughtfully, “I’m going to make you cum with you still wearing that,” Mereel says slowly, as he crawls on the bed over you, catching you wrists in one large hand and pinning them over your head, “And then I’m going to undress you and I’ll make you cum again. And again.” His grin is sly, “How many orgasms is too many, do you think?”

“I…”

“Five? Six?”

You stare up at him, slightly breathless, “I don’t think you can do it,” You challenge, as you lift your chin defiantly.

“Oh,” Mereel coos, his eyes glittering with delight, “It’s a promise, baby.” He leans in and kisses you gently, “For now, we’re going to use colors. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.”

“Okay,” You whisper.

Mereel smiles at you then, soft and sweet, “What’s your color, cyare?”

“Green.” You whisper, “Very, very, very green.”

His soft smile becomes a grin, “Good. Because I’m about to ruin you, baby.”

[generaltrashshecox]

Anthony starts to have an anxiety/panic attack with filming, doesn’t tell anybody that’s what it is so he goes to his office to deal with it by himself. Even though Damien wasn’t told what was happening he’s got experience with attacks like it (whether it’s with him or he has friends who have had them is up to you) so he goes to Anthony’s office to make sure he doesn’t have to go through it alone. What happens after that is up to you.

Anthony felt the familiar tightness in his chest, the tingling throughout his body, the shortness of breath, the fear... Why? Nothing was happening why now? It hadn't happened in years what was triggering it? He didn't know what he did know is he wanted to be in his office before anyone noticed. He took some deep breaths trying to ignore the tremble in his hands as he asked if they were done with the shoot. Everyone nodded and he smiled before making a beeline to his office. He sat on the couch in there trying to take deep breaths.

"You're okay you're okay..." he quietly repeated to himself. Then there was a faint knock on his door.

"Anthony?" a voiced asked concerned. Damien? What was he doing here?

"Do you need something?" He hesitated.

"Well no I just... Wanted to check on you," the man said softly. "I saw you were shaking-" dammit "and I uh got worried. I'm sorry I know it's none of my business I just-"

"No no you're fine... You can come in if you want I'm fine," he said gently trying to keep his voice even. The door opened and Damien stepped in closing the door behind him. His eyes ran over him looking him over and Anthony tried supress the shake but the eyes seemed to make the tremble worse as well as the overall anxiety. He took a shaky breath.

"You don't look fine," Damien said bluntly before his eyes went wide and he covered his mouth. "Sorry I didn't mean to-"

"It's... It's fine," he said putting his head in his hands. "I'm not doing well I-" he swallowed thickly. "Panic attack. Haven't had one in years and yet-" he felt the sting behind his eyes. Damien fidgeted.

"Could I sit?" he asked gesturing to the couch beside him. Anthony nodded. "I just wanted to say sometimes things like this come out of nowhere. Maybe it's from everything new and changing. You're happy of course but it's a huge change and our bodies and brains are weird." He nodded. At least that was true. He was only a few weeks into owning Smosh again and things were still very new. But still why now? "Do you want to talk about something? Take your mind off of things?" he asked gently.

"Sure," he said needing anything to get his mind off the fear coursing through his body.

"So... Have you played anything new lately? I started the new Legend of Zelda and I've really been liking it. If you haven't started it you should. I know you and Ian are a bit of old heads about games but it's really good," he said hoping to help. Anthony smiled.

"No I've started it thankfully. It's really good I just haven't had much time with everything," he said truthfully. He didn't have much time for anything but he did try and squeeze a few hours of gaming in.

"Awesome! Then I won't spoil ya. We should play sometime ya know? Like at company game nights or something. I would definitely like to get to know my other boss better," he said looking at him, an excited smile on his face. That was right he'd started just as he was leaving just missing him as he was working on Games.

"I'd like that too. You seem like a caring person Damien... Hell you don't even really know me and yet you still came in to check on me," he said with and Damien shook his head.

"It's not much. I just understand what it feels like ya know? My mental health has always been meh and it wasn't until recently I found some other things... I never want people to feel alone so when I saw you I felt like I had to help... Sorry that was dumb," he said sheepishly. "Anyways anything new you've gotten into? I have a few new projects coming up that I'm excited for!"

"Tell me about them," he wasn't up for much talking but listening to Damien was definitely helping.

"Ooh well a lot of them are kept under wraps NDAs and all that but they're very exciting. Let's just say my resume is getting full. Though one I think I can talk about," he said giddily. "Just promise not to tell anyone please?" Anthony made a movement crossing his heart. "Okay good... I'm playing the love interest in a shojo. It's honestly fucking insane really I grew up watching anime and suddenly I'm playing a pretty anime boy? It feels like a dream honestly same with all the games I voiced in. A few I can't talk about but so many and it's exciting! Sorry I feel like I'm rambling..."

"No no I enjoy listening it's part of my job ya know? It's super exciting and I'm happy for you, really. I'm glad things are working out but I hope you stick around," he said jokingly.

"Don't worry I'm not leaving any time soon," he said with a smile. "Are you feeling a little better now?" Anthony froze from a moment. He still felt the tingling of the adrenaline as it wore away and could feel his heart race just a little faster but he was calming down thankfully.

"Yeah a little. Thanks really... That probably would've lasted longer if you didn't help me," he said chuckling darkly. He knew the feeling well...

"It's no problem dawg honestly. I just wanted to help and I'm glad I could." Anthony nodded again. He checked his watch and saw it was almost lunch time. He clapped a hand on Damien's shoulder.

"How about we get lunch? My treat as thanks for helping me," he said smiling. Damien looked a bit taken aback but he agreed.

"Uh sure. Thank you," he said softly.

"It's no problem really... Dawg." Damien rolled his eyes and laughed. "C'mon let's get going." He couldn't help but feel grateful for his company in the moment. He'd have to thank him properly at some point but lunch felt like a nice start.

[rosetheex-editor]

[Audio transcript start.]

[The transcript begins with the sound of crickets, someone can be heard walking back and forth as a phone starts ringing. The ringtone is identified as the song "Killer queen." the phone keeps ringing until there is a beep.]

?: Hello, hello hello?

[Voice identified: Ness.]

?: HEYYYY!!!

[Voice identified: Ophelia.]

[In the background of the other end, there seems to be slightly muffled club music, and someone crying. The crying person does not seem to be Ophelia.]

O: Ness! It’s been so long!

Ne: It's been like… A week and a half, plus I still contact you when I can… Just been busy with uh, a fucked up forearm.

O: Aw, yeah. Ignore the music, I’m out right now. I’m in the women's bathroom at a club! Where are you?

Ne: Apartment parking lot… Ok that's a lie. Cemetery… Definitely not the one in Philly.

O: Okay! I dunno what significance any of that has to you, but I remember killing a few people there once. Speaking of! Well, kinda, uh. Hm.

Ne: First. I come to the cemetery to clear my head sometimes… Talk to the graves, it's calming. And what's up?

[Ness takes a deep breath, preparing for the response.]

O: So! We got this call for a job… it’s a little ways out of Lostfield, and I need a bit of help, so…

Ne: You want me to help?

O: Exactly! You’re so smart girlie, that's why I called you! I have some details ready if you want ‘em!

Ne: Sure but first, do I still get one free murder job?

[Ness laughs, clearly joking.]

O: I’ll see what I can do! But anyway, the reason I need help with this one is because this jackass hired bodyguards. Fucking bodyguards! Talk about paranoid, amiright?

Ne: So what do you need me to do? Kill em? Suck the-

[Ness is cut off by the wind.]

O: That’s Cass’ thing, man.

Ne: I was… Joking. But ok.

O: Oh, well. Either way. You up for the task? Wait, I forgot to tell you what we were even doing! Sorry! I’ve had many drinks. This isn’t a hit! We’re grabbing the bitch and masking him.

Ne: C- christ… Can I get blackout drunk? I'll pay for my drinks just like… Being sad and in pain is a bitch so.

O: Mmm… sorry girl, but I can’t let ya do that. You’re underaged.

Ne: So killing and kidnapping is fine but you draw the line at underaged drinking?

O: Exactly! You catch on really fast! You can have… mayyyybe one drink. But that’s a big maybe. Got it?

Ne: Fine.

O: Another thing, uh. I think you’ll want to know who else is going.

Ne: If I'm helping… [Aside.] Hell this could be my first of many PR jobs. [Front.] Yeah I'd like to know.

O: Okay! [Clears throat.] So… Adelia, Becky, Naomi, Irene, Bianca… Um. Eden. And…

Ne: I thought that was all the girls? Cuz like… I'm assuming you also called me for girls night?

O: Haha… about that. Um. So we… uh.

[Ness sighs.]

Ne: Did Cassius get pissy because we ended up in the bahamas?

O: No, he thought that was funny as shit, uh. We don’t do jobs like these without him, I think you’ll find out why when we get there.

Ne: As long as he keeps Rose and Edgar's names out of his fucking mouth we'll be fine.

O: I can’t promise that. He enjoys riling you up.

Ne: Ophelia. I will bring my dads sawed off shotgun and shoot him in the fucking head. Or get blackout drunk to put up with him.

O: Girl, please don’t do either of those. I’ll… tell him that he needs to tone it down for friday.

Ne: Thank you… Genuinely thank you.

O: Bring a nice outfit, by the way! We can’t have you looking like a mess while the rest of us are dressed up!

Ne: I'll uh… Put on one of the dresses we bought. And uh… I'll buy makeup I guess.

O: OMG! Wait do you want one of us to help you with it?

Ne: Sure? I uh… Seeing as I've only ever worked at an auto mechanics and the pizzeria, not like I've ever had a chance to wear makeup.

O: EEEEEE! OMG I can’t wait! You’ll look amazing, Ness.

Ne: Thanks, I uh… Still don't fully trust you guys, but it's uh… Yeah, nice to have at least one other person to talk to that doesn't make fun of me.

O: Aw, they make fun of you? That’s so mean. You’re safe with us, girl. Maybe not Eden, but the rest of us.

Ne: No no… Just… Well… People I can talk to that kinda get me… After sarah and mari went missing, I've really only talked to. Henry, edgar, rose, Katherine. Yeah those are like… The only people I've talked to well enough. You seem to get me and not make fun of me for being… Weird, I've only had like… 3 female, technically 2 but I'm counting mari. Friends that match that.

O: Oh, well. Hm. That’s kinda new for me TBH. I haven’t seen Sarah or Mari at all, but I’ll let them both know that you miss them! And uh… on the topic of the m– Um. Edgar. I’m really sorry that happened, girl. I know what it’s like to lose a friend, that’s gotta be rough.

Ne: Oh trust me it is, waking up every morning lying to everyone that you're ok and that nothing is wrong hurts even more. Some nights I really just don't want to wake up!

O: Damn. I’ve felt like that once. Before PR. Uh. Maybe this’ll help you take your mind off of things?

Ne: Yeah… I should probably go.

O: So should I, I think I’m about to hashtag throw up right now!

Ne: Oh um… In that case see you friday, bye.

O: Bye, Ness!

[Ophelia hangs up.]

Ne: Fuckin' hell…

[Ness can be heard walking again, now with the sound of crying. This lasts for 15 minutes until the transcript ends.]

[End transcript.]

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

All was quiet in the house, even the doggies had gone to bed. But sometime during the night there was a shout and with a jump B was awake. His sunglasses were knocked off in his fright, as he looked around to see what it was. Or perhaps it was his imaginatio- Ah... Nope. It was Spike, Shaking, and scared of... something. Slowly he approached. "Babe?" In an effort to not spook him any more than he already was. {Spike}

my muse has just woken up in a panic, crying, shaking and unable to say a word… send me your muse’s reaction to finding them like this

Blood. Blood took over all of his senses. The metallic sent in the air and taste in his mouth. The color painting the walls, the lockers, the floor, even some on the ceiling. The platting sound everytime his sneakers took a step.

The steady trickle from wounds he tried to ignore.

He found himself wandering the halls of his... middle... no, high... Either way, a school he went to. Clutching an M16 close to himself.

The halls slowly gave way to a filthy alley way, the blood dried on the surfaces. The scent wasn't as strong, but the taste was still ever present.

He found a figure, crumpled up in a heap at the end of the alley way. For a moment, the only proof they were alive was the shivering. Before they looked up.

"H-How much they payin' ya? I'll- I'll double- No! Triple it! Just- Please- Don't-!"

"Sorry, pal..." his own voice responded, sounding a bit younger than he expected.

The weapon then pointed at them.

"As the [missus] [boss] says... 'S bad business to jus' not carry out th' job."

Suddenly, he was in the school halls again, and the pleading face staring back out him had one eye, tears streaming down it. The stink of urine overpowered the metallic scent for a moment before he pulled the trigger.

"... Pico...?"

A voice. A very familiar voice.

Her whirred around, consciously keeping the firearm downranged.

His... his boyfriend... staring through blood soaked [blue] [pink] [blond] bangs.

Seeing the bruises littering his arms and face, he rushed to the smaller. One hand released the weapon to reach for him.

"Babe! Oh my god, are you alri-"

A hand grabbed his wrist and forced his arm behind his back. Cold metal nipped his skin as handcuffs clicked into place. He realized he no long had the gun as the other was forced behind him.

"I-I didn't do this! I was just tryna fight back! I was tryna help everyone-!"

"You have the right to remain silent," a man recited as he shoved Pico towards a police cruiser, "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-"

His head whirred around and he was pushed to the back door of the car, looking for someone, anyone, to take his side!

His eyes locked with a girl's, sitting at the back of an ambulance. She simply stared back, empty.

A hollowness which was contagious as he was seated.

"I knew he was trouble..." a voice scoffed before the car door slammed shut.

He found himself looking out between bars, a boy shooting up at... something. He wasn't sure.

... The... resemblance between him and this kid... How strange...

The boy won, and he rushed over to the cage, shooting the locks off. The cage door swung open, and a grin formed on Pico's face.

"Nice work, bud-"

The boy suddenly swung a mace at him, Pico leaning back just barely avoiding it.

Back in school. This time the halls were even redder than before. The boy swung again. Pico rolled out of the way. He then turned, just in time to see the boy transform into a bear.

He was... in front of a house. For just a moment.

"I think I feel hate."

Large paws wound around his throat and lifted him up in the air.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn-

Suddenly the paws let go, and as he dropped, he saw Nene briefly run behind a corner. The bear followed her.

No!

He had to- had to stop him- Had to protect her-

So he ran, ran ran ran until he burst through the janitor's closet. An M 16, just on the table. He snatched it up before rushing back out, face to face with...

Cassandra...

They started arguing. It was too jumbled for him to understand. Her [red] [black] [gray] [auburn] hair somehow spiked up even more as she became more frustrated.

It was time to end it.

He rose his weapon.

Aimed at the Nene on top.

And pulled the trigger, sending the bullet flying to her [head] [shoulder]. And she was down.

He rushed over to the remaining Nene. And suddenly he was cradling her, the [bullet in her head] [bullet in her shoulder] [slit of her wrist] oozing blood.

"Nene! Nene, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Just-! Just hang on! Hang on until help..."

... He was surrounded. Surrounded by bodies.

Strangers. His classmates. His closest friends. His... his boyfriend...

Weakly... clutching his pant leg...

"I'm... sorry...! I... I [tried] [didn't mean to] [just wanted to help] [ messed up]...!"

The clutch on his pant leg tightened, as the corpse of his boyfriend pulled himself up. The others started crawling, drawing closer. Their voices were all a cacophony. A cacophony of why why why why why why why-

"I'm sorry...! I'm sorry!"

His apologies came out in a mantra as he curled in on himself tighter and tighter. A mantra that went unheeded as they all continued to advance on him, piling up on him, overwhelming him both literally and mentally as they continued to ask why why why why why why-

It was at that point he'd shot up in a seating position, clutching his own biceps in a vice grip as a cry ripped itself from his throat. His tears must have been much colder than he realized, because he couldn't stop shaking.

What- What the hell...!?

A voice. A voice could just barely be heard above the buzzing in his ears and the rattling of his own skull. His eyes slowly, hesitantly trailed, met with...

... B...

Another moment of hesitation before he reached over, brushing lightly at locks of hair.

Green hair.

His hair was always green...

[tower-of-erinyes]

Royal Demon's Gospel | Akihiro | Trial 2 | ATTN: Ruri

Akihiro was, admittedly, still kinda lost. He was happy to let people speak, especially now- he was still not good with dead bodies and murders. (Was he getting more used to it? Would he ever? He was lucky he managed to fall asleep at night, and often, it was a challenge to not wake up every thirty minutes in a sweat from nightmares).

And so he listened. The mention of the diary did make his heart jump in his chest- a sensation that was always kind of painful, but nothing he couldn't ignore- but ultimately, from how people were talking about it, it seemed all that was in there was just what came out at the party. Whilst he did shoot an icy glare at Dante, he did mostly shrug when it was brought up. He didn't need to say anything, did he? He'd learned sometimes silence paid off better than words. They already knew what that said about him and what he'd done. If he'd made peace with the fact was a different story altogether, but...

"Should probably mention, before you get any wrong ideas,I didn't kill Memory-san in revenge for my secret gettin' out or anything. If I wanted to do that, I'd have bashed that goddamn showoff influencer's head in or something. I mean, I was worried about what was on that notebook, but it's a bit too late for that now, is it?"

Sorry Dante. Well, he's not really sorry. You kind of had a comment like that coming.

Still. That does remind him. He will turn to Ruri next, and with an eyebrow raised- and a few coughs, hiding his mouth with the back of his hand- he will ask:

"Say, Ruri-chan. All this talk of the notebook, and one thing is still stickin' out to me. Has been for a while now. We actually also looked into the notebook, and now that I think about it, there were two oddities... right?"

He specifically looks to his investigation companions- Mika, Ruby, Lish and Raven- as he continues.

"One, there was a period of a few days that lacked any notes. I wonder if they might have been removed by someone? And, two... some research notes about the relationship between sleep and memory, an' some more stuff like that. It was all written very high-level-y, you know? Almost like..."

Here he once again faces Ruri, and does a dramatic pointer finger. You could swear you've seen a pose like this before, in a setting associated with a court like this one, and heck, was that character not a rockstar like Akihiro here?

Surely it is a coincidence.

"...Almost like somethin' a Somnologist would write, Ruri-chan! Although, for what reason, I am not sure..."

He shrugs with a bit of a smirk.

"Jus' thought, since we're talking about this notebook so much, I might as well bring it up. 'Course, I can't exactly disprove Memory-san might have been doing her own research in secret, but... It's interesting at least, don't you think?"

You could swear he's about to take a bow just to complete the act. Instead he starts coughing again, and just waves his hand to indicate that he's fine and someone else can go now, he's done speaking.