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goldfades · 2 days ago

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I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND───JOE BURROW

request: Can you write a joe burrow one shot about so high school 🥰🥰 Or if you’ve already done that, then the song dress

ev's notes: this was supposed to be a blurb. keyword: supposed to. i got a bit carried away, but how can you not when it comes to taylor? also, we all love LSU joe

The first time you saw Joe Burrow, he was standing on the edge of a practice field, helmet in hand, a picture of quiet confidence. His buzzcut was sharp enough to catch the late Louisiana sun, and you remember thinking he looked like the kind of guy who had his entire life planned out. It was almost intimidating how effortless he made everything seem—throwing perfect spirals, cracking jokes in the locker room, balancing the weight of a team on his shoulders. But then, somehow, you found yourself next to him during a random group project in Sports Management 201, and everything changed.

You didn’t become best friends overnight. Joe wasn’t exactly the “overshare everything in one go” type, and you, well, you had walls of your own. But there was an ease between you, the kind that turned study sessions into late-night deep dives about life and childhood and everything in between. By the time sophomore year rolled around, you were inseparable. You’d sit on the floor of his apartment during game weekends, surrounded by a haze of pizza boxes and team gear, and think, This is it. This is my person.

But somewhere along the way, the easy edges of your friendship began to blur. Maybe it was the way Joe looked at you during one of those low-stakes nights, his gaze lingering just a little too long. Or maybe it was the time you patched him up after a particularly brutal hit on the field—his voice low and rough as he muttered, “What would I do without you?” Either way, the shift was small but seismic, like an earthquake rumbling beneath your feet before you even realized it was happening.

You couldn’t pinpoint when you started noticing the details. The golden flecks in his otherwise blue eyes, the way his laugh hitched just slightly when he found something truly funny, or the way his voice softened when he said your name. You tried to ignore it at first, chalking it up to some misplaced admiration for your best friend, but the feelings were stubborn, refusing to be tucked away neatly. They buzzed under your skin, electric and impossible to ignore, leaving you breathless whenever he was near.

And then there was the dress. A stupid, impulsive decision born out of frustration and hope, hanging in your closet like a secret you weren’t ready to admit. You’d told yourself you bought it because you deserved something new, something fun. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You weren’t supposed to want him like this. You were supposed to be his confidante, his teammate, his best friend. But every lingering glance, every accidental brush of hands, every inside joke that felt too personal—it all built up, layering itself into something you couldn’t unravel even if you tried. And now, sitting in the dim glow of your shared favorite bar, watching him laugh at something trivial, you wonder if he feels it too.

If he notices the way you can’t quite meet his eyes for too long. If he knows that every smile he sends your way makes your chest tighten. If he realizes that every secret moment you’ve shared has carved itself into your memory like a golden tattoo you’ll never erase.

You don’t want him like a best friend. Not anymore.

The bass from the speakers thrums through the walls of the house, rattling the beer bottles on every flat surface. The air smells like spilled alcohol, cheap cologne, and too many bodies crammed into one space. It's chaos, but the best kind, the kind you’ve come to associate with game days at LSU—sweaty, celebratory, and electric. Tonight, the Tigers pulled off a win that had everyone on their feet, screaming until their voices cracked, and the party is nothing short of a victory lap.

You’re deep in a circle of friends, the buzz of alcohol warming your veins and making you laugh harder than you have in weeks. The strain of classes, late nights, and endless football schedules has melted away, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself relax. Someone hands you a drink—something neon and probably terrible—but you take it anyway, raising it in a toast to nothing and everything. It feels good to let loose, to drown out the noise in your head with the noise of the crowd.

And then you see him.

Joe is across the room, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like he owns the place. His LSU cap is turned backward, and his smile is as easy and devastating as ever. You can tell he’s in his element, surrounded by teammates and admirers, his laugh cutting through the din of the party. You feel it in your chest like a physical thing, a pull you’ve never been able to explain but have stopped trying to fight.

But it’s not just Joe that catches your attention. It’s the girl next to him.

She’s gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that turns heads and stops conversations. She’s leaning in close, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his arm, saying something that makes him laugh. Not just any laugh—the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes, the kind you thought was reserved for the two of you. Your stomach twists, sharp and sudden, like you’ve just swallowed something bitter.

You try to look away, to focus on anything else—the half-empty drinks in front of you, the sticky floor beneath your shoes, the laughter of your friends—but your gaze keeps drifting back, helplessly tethered to the sight of them. She’s laughing now, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and Joe’s watching her like she’s the only person in the room.

The nausea hits you like a wave. It’s not subtle, not something you can breathe through and ignore. It rises quickly, making your throat tighten and your head spin. You set your drink down on the nearest surface, ignoring the shouts of your friends as you mumble something about needing a break.

The hallway to the bathroom feels like a mile long, each step heavy and unsteady. The crowd thins as you move away from the main party, the noise dulling to a low hum. You push open the bathroom door and lock it behind you, gripping the sink to steady yourself. The fluorescent light overhead is harsh, making everything feel too bright, too real.

You glance up at the mirror, and there it is: the blue dress.

You bought it on a whim, a little too expensive for your budget but too perfect to leave behind. Joe had told you once, in passing, that blue was your color. It had been a throwaway comment, something he probably didn’t even remember, but it had stuck with you. When you saw the dress, you thought of him, of the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, of the way he said your name like it was something special. You’d wanted to impress him, to feel like you could belong in the world he so effortlessly ruled.

Now, staring at your reflection, the dress feels like a cruel joke. The silky fabric clings to you in all the right places, the color vibrant against your skin, but it doesn’t matter. Not when Joe is out there, smiling at someone else like she’s the only thing that matters.

Your hands grip the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white. The nausea is still there, but now it’s tangled with something else—anger, humiliation, heartbreak. It’s overwhelming, and for a moment, you think you might actually cry. But you don’t. You can’t. Not here, not now.

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to stand up straighter. The dress still looks good, you think, even if it feels tainted now. You smooth the fabric down with trembling hands, telling yourself that it doesn’t matter, that Joe doesn’t matter. But deep down, you know it’s a lie.

He’s always mattered.

You take another deep breath, the kind that feels like it’s dragging through every nerve in your body, and push yourself away from the sink. The girl in the mirror stares back at you, her lips pressed into a determined line, her eyes just a little glassy. Maybe from the drink. Maybe not. Either way, you’re done hiding in this bathroom like a cliché in some bad movie.

Joe can talk to whoever he wants. He’s not yours. He never has been. But you? You’re not going to let one moment ruin your night. Not when the music is still pumping, your friends are still laughing, and—let’s be honest—you’re in a frat house. There are plenty of boys here who would love to talk to a girl like you, especially in this dress.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, small but defiant, as you fix your hair and smooth your dress one last time. If Joe wants to waste his night with someone else, fine. You have no shortage of options.

The noise of the party hits you the moment you step back into the hallway, a tidal wave of music and laughter and the unmistakable sound of someone shouting “chug, chug, chug!” You weave your way through the crowd, ignoring the tightness in your chest when you pass the kitchen and see him still standing there, leaning closer to that girl. Instead, you head straight for the living room, where the crowd is thick, the lights are dim, and the music feels like it’s coming from inside your chest.

You position yourself near the edge of the dance floor, close enough to seem approachable but not so close that you’re desperate. It doesn’t take long. It never does at a frat party, especially when you’re wearing a dress like this one.

The first guy approaches within minutes. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and definitely a little drunk. His grin is lopsided as he leans in, yelling over the music. “Hey! You’re way too cute to be standing here by yourself. What’s your name?”

You force a smile, polite but not overly enthusiastic. “Thanks. I’m just waiting for my friends.”

He doesn’t take the hint. “Well, they’re not here right now, are they?” He takes a step closer, the smell of beer and sweat rolling off him in waves. “Lucky me.”

You laugh awkwardly, trying to keep some space between you. He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that, but there’s something about the way his eyes linger on you that makes your skin crawl. It’s like he’s not looking at you, but at the dress, the shape of your body, the idea of what you might let him get away with. It’s unsettling, and the longer he talks, the more you want to disappear.

“So,” he says, leaning in even closer, “you here with anyone? Or are you single tonight?”

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. Normally, you’d have brushed this guy off by now, forced a polite smile and ducked away before things got too awkward. But tonight isn’t normal. Tonight, you’re wearing this stupid blue dress for a boy who doesn’t even notice you’re alive, who’s too busy laughing with someone else to care that you’re here, trying not to drown in your feelings. And maybe it’s the alcohol humming in your veins, or maybe it’s the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, but you don’t brush him off.

Instead, you tilt your head and smile, the kind of smile you’ve never given to anyone but Joe. “Single.”

His grin widens, and he takes another step closer, his hand finding your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It feels wrong and right all at once—wrong because he’s not Joe, but right because at least someone is looking at you like you matter. His voice is low, almost a murmur now. “Lucky me.”

You laugh, a sound that feels foreign to your own ears, and let him guide you further into the crowd, where the music is loud enough to drown out your thoughts. His hands are confident but not pushy, and when he leans down, his lips brushing against yours, you don’t stop him.

You kiss him back. At first, it’s awkward, more about the motion than any real feeling, but as the seconds pass, you give in, letting the alcohol and the haze of the moment carry you. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you let him. You let him because it’s easier than admitting that the only person you really want to be kissing doesn’t want you back.

You’re not sure how long it lasts—minutes, maybe hours—but the world blurs into a mess of noise and heat, and you lose yourself in it. You don’t notice the weight of another gaze until it’s too late.

“[Your Name].”

Your name isn’t loud, but it cuts through everything like a knife. The music, the chatter, the blood pounding in your ears—all of it fades the second you hear his voice. Joe’s voice.

You pull back from the guy, your head spinning as you turn to find Joe standing a few feet away. His cap is gone now, his hair slightly mussed, and his expression is unreadable. But his eyes—those blue eyes you’ve memorized in a thousand different shades—are filled with something you can only describe as hurt. It hits you like a punch to the gut.

“Joe,” you manage, your voice shaky, but he doesn’t respond right away. He just looks at you, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You barely hear him. Your focus is locked on Joe, on the way his shoulders tense and his gaze flickers between you and the guy. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet but razor-sharp, like he’s trying to keep something dangerous from slipping out. “Didn’t realize you were… busy.”

The guy behind you shifts awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Uh, I didn’t—”

“She’s drunk,” Joe cuts him off, his tone flat but laced with something that feels too heavy, too sharp to be just irritation. His eyes don’t leave yours, even as he continues, his jaw tight. “You know that, right?”

The words hit you like a slap, and your stomach twists in both anger and embarrassment. You straighten up, the haze of alcohol doing little to dull the heat that creeps up your neck. “Joe, I’m fine. Don’t—”

“No, you’re not,” he snaps, his attention finally shifting to the guy, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “Get lost.”

“Hey, man, I didn’t mean any harm,” the guy says, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “She seemed into it.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not,” Joe bites back, taking a step forward. There’s a warning in his voice, low and simmering, and the guy takes the hint, backing away with a muttered excuse before disappearing into the crowd.

You whip around to face Joe, your chest heaving. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” His laugh is bitter, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “What are you even doing, [Your Name]? You’re drunk. And you’re letting some random guy—”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you interrupt, your voice rising to match his. The heat in your face isn’t just from the alcohol anymore; it’s from the way he’s looking at you, like you’re some reckless child who needs saving. “I’m not a kid, Joe. I don’t need you to swoop in and play hero.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to do next. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter but no less intense. “You don’t see it, do you? The way guys like that look at you. They don’t care about you, [Your Name]. They just see an easy target.”

You flinch at his words, the sting of them sharper than you expect. “You don’t get to decide what I do or who I talk to, Joe. You don’t own me.”

“Damn it, I’m trying to protect you!” His voice cracks slightly, the frustration and something else—something softer, almost desperate—breaking through. “Do you have any idea how bad this could’ve gone? What if I hadn’t been here?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me!” Your voice is shaking now, the emotion bubbling up faster than you can contain it. “You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is acting like you know better than I do.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the weight of the argument hanging heavy between you. Around you, the party continues, oblivious to the storm brewing in this corner of the room.

Joe runs a hand through his hair, his expression shifting into something you can’t quite read. Hurt? Anger? Both? “You don’t get it,” he says finally, his voice low. “You never get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” you shoot back, your own voice raw now. “Because all I see is you barging in and making me feel like some helpless idiot.”

His jaw clenches, his hands flexing like he’s holding back something volcanic. When he finally moves, it’s not to storm off—it’s to step closer, his hand wrapping around your arm with just enough pressure to make you pause, though not enough to hurt. His grip is warm and steady, grounding in a way that feels infuriating right now.

“That’s enough,” he says, his voice low but firm. There’s no anger in it, no edge, just a quiet certainty that only makes you bristle more. “You’ve had enough for tonight.”

You yank your arm back, but his hold doesn’t falter. “I’m fine, Joe,” you snap, your voice sharp and defensive. The alcohol in your veins has burned away just enough to leave you teetering on the edge of indignation. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes meeting yours with a calm intensity that only fuels your frustration. “Let me go,” you demand, your voice rising. “Seriously, Joe. You can’t just decide—”

“You’re drunk,” he cuts in quietly, his tone unshakable, almost maddeningly patient. “And this isn’t you.”

Your stomach twists, the words hitting a nerve you didn’t realize was exposed. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on me?” you fire back, your voice trembling slightly as you try to pull away again. “You don’t get to tell me who I am or what I can do. I’m not some little kid you need to take care of!”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t yell, doesn’t even argue. He just lets you rail against him, his expression remaining infuriatingly steady as he starts guiding you through the crowd, his hand never leaving your arm. You’re too angry to notice the way people glance your way, their conversations pausing as they watch Joe Burrow, the golden boy of LSU, calmly escort you out of the frat house like it’s a routine play he’s run a hundred times before.

“Joe, let me go!” you yell again, louder this time, but your voice bounces off the walls of the crowded room and fades into the noise of the party. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back.

By the time you’re outside, the cool night air hits you like a slap, the contrast between the crisp breeze and the stuffy warmth of the party jarring enough to momentarily stall your protests. Joe finally lets go of your arm but stands in front of you, his broad frame blocking the house and everyone in it from view.

You glare at him, crossing your arms as you try to steady your breathing. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” he echoes, his voice still calm, though there’s a hint of something sharper underneath. “My problem is watching you let some random guy take advantage of you because you’ve had too much to drink. My problem is knowing you’re going to regret this in the morning.”

“And you think dragging me out of there like I’m some damsel in distress is going to fix that?” you snap, your chest heaving with the force of your words. “You don’t get to control me, Joe!”

“I’m not trying to control you,” he says, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?” you demand, throwing your hands up. “From having fun? From making my own choices?”

“From getting hurt,” he says, and the words are so soft, so raw, that they stop you in your tracks. For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, the anger in your chest giving way to something heavier, something harder to ignore.

His eyes meet yours, and for the first time tonight, you see the cracks in his calm façade. There’s something unsteady in the way he’s looking at you, like he’s balancing on a knife’s edge, trying not to fall. “I care about you, okay? More than I probably should. So yeah, maybe I overstepped, but I’m not going to stand there and watch you make decisions that aren’t you, not when I know you’re going to hate yourself for it tomorrow.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Because for all your anger, all your frustration, there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. And it terrifies you.

Joe takes a step back, running a hand through his hair as he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to steady himself. “If you want to go back in there, I won’t stop you. But I had to try.”

He turns to leave, his shoulders tense, and for the first time tonight, you feel the weight of everything crashing down all at once.

You watch him for a second, the silence stretching between you, thick and tangled with everything unsaid. The words you want to say sit at the back of your throat, but they won’t come. Instead, you take a deep breath, the cold air doing little to cool the fire in your chest, and you follow him.

Joe’s footsteps are steady and purposeful, like he’s not even thinking about the fact that you’re trailing behind him, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Your anger dissipates in the quiet of the night, swallowed up by the calm that surrounds you both. The sounds of the party fade away as you walk down the street toward your apartment, the rhythmic tap of your heels on the sidewalk oddly soothing.

You keep your gaze fixed ahead, not meeting his eyes. For once, the noise in your head is quieter than the pounding of your heart, but still, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that something's missing.

You finally glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His face is shadowed in the streetlights, but you can still make out the tight line of his jaw, the furrow in his brow. He doesn’t look at you, his focus trained straight ahead, and for some reason, it makes your chest ache.

Neither of you speaks, the tension between you thick but not unbearable. It’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to shift, for someone to break. But you don’t. Not yet.

By the time you reach your apartment door, the quiet feels heavier than the air itself. You fumble with your keys for a moment, your fingers trembling just enough to make it harder than usual to find the right one.

"Here," Joe says, his voice low, and you glance up just in time to see him stepping forward, his hand brushing against yours as he takes the keys from you. He unlocks the door in a smooth motion, and before you can even think to thank him, he speaks again.

“I—”

“You looked good tonight,” he says, cutting you off softly. His voice is steady, but there’s something in it that makes your stomach flip, an edge of vulnerability you weren’t expecting. His eyes meet yours then, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “The dress. I liked it.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and it feels like the ground beneath you shifts, like the world tilts on its axis and sets you spinning. You stare at him, your heart beating too fast, and then—without warning—you’re smiling.

It’s not forced or awkward. It’s real, stretching across your face in a way that makes the weight in your chest lift just a little. And then he’s smiling too, that familiar grin that’s been burned into your memory for years, and suddenly, everything feels lighter.

“Thanks,” you manage, your voice quieter now, softer. You glance down at the fabric of your dress, smoothing it out as if to steady yourself. “I wasn’t sure if it was my color.”

“It is,” he says, and there’s no hesitation in his voice, just certainty. “Blue suits you.”

You blink, staring at him, at the way he’s looking at you now—open, earnest, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Something in his eyes shifts, like he’s trying to gauge whether you’ll believe him, whether you’ll understand the weight behind those words. And you do.

A smile spreads across your face before you can even stop it. It’s like all the pieces of this night fall into place, clicking together, and for the first time in hours, you feel lighter. The alcohol fades to a dull buzz in the back of your mind, replaced by a warmth that starts in your chest and spreads outward, filling you up from the inside.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you even think about them. You’re not even sure who you’re trying to convince. Maybe him. Maybe yourself.

He smiles back, that familiar, crooked grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. And just like that, you know.

The tension between you two, the hurt, the anger—it’s all still there, but it’s fading, slipping away with each breath you take, with each passing moment. The connection you’ve both been avoiding is right there, in the space between you, unspoken but understood.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you step forward. The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop them.

“Do you want to come in?”

For a second, he doesn’t answer. He just looks at you, his expression unreadable, like he’s trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not. But then the smile returns, a little softer, a little more vulnerable this time, and he steps closer, his hand brushing against yours again.

“I’d like that.”

You step aside, holding the door open for him, and as he crosses the threshold into your apartment, the world outside fades away. The weight of the night, the tension, the unspoken feelings—it all starts to fall away as you close the door behind him, the sound of it locking making everything feel a little more real.

And for the first time tonight, you feel like you might actually be able to breathe again.

Inside, the apartment feels cozy, a stark contrast to the cold night air outside. You toss your keys onto the counter, the clink of metal breaking the comfortable silence as Joe surveys the familiar space. He’s been here more times than you can count, so much that it’s almost like he lives here—except he doesn’t. He’s always just passing through, leaving behind traces of himself that linger far longer than he does.

“I’m gonna shower,” he says casually, already heading toward the bathroom like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is.

“Sure,” you reply, watching as he grabs a towel from the hall closet without missing a beat. “You know where everything is.”

He shoots you a grin over his shoulder. “Hard not to when half of it used to be mine.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can stop it. The tension from earlier feels miles away, replaced by an easy warmth that only Joe seems to bring. You head to the couch, plopping down and grabbing the remote while he disappears into the bathroom. The sound of water running fills the quiet, and you let yourself sink into the cushions, your body finally relaxing.

When Joe reappears twenty minutes later, his hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, he’s wearing a pair of sweats and an old LSU hoodie you distinctly remember stealing from him months ago. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, but you push the feeling down, focusing on the TV as he flops onto the couch beside you.

He stretches out, his long legs taking up most of the space, and gestures at his hoodie with a mock-serious expression. “You know, you could at least ask before raiding my closet.”

You glance at him, feigning innocence. “What can I say? Your clothes are comfortable. And they look better on me.”

He snorts, leaning back with a grin that’s all teasing charm. “Debatable.”

“Not even a little bit,” you counter, smirking. The playful banter feels so normal, so easy, that you almost forget the storm that brewed between you earlier.

Almost.

After a while, the two of you migrate to your bed, the comforter a welcoming cocoon as you prop up pillows and settle in with The Office playing softly in the background. Joe’s on one side, you’re on the other, the space between you wide enough to be friendly but not awkward. It feels... safe. Like every other time you’ve done this.

But tonight, something lingers in the air, something unspoken that buzzes just beneath the surface. You try to ignore it, to lose yourself in the familiar rhythm of Jim and Pam’s back-and-forth, but you can feel Joe shifting beside you, his presence impossible to ignore.

It’s almost halfway through an episode when he speaks, his voice cutting through the soft glow of the TV. “You know…” he starts, his tone so casual it catches you off guard. “It’s funny how everyone thinks we’re just friends.”

You turn to look at him, your brows knitting together. “Uh… because we are just friends?”

He shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the screen, his expression maddeningly nonchalant. “Sure, but like… doesn’t it ever feel like more than that sometimes? Like, not in a weird way, but…” He trails off, his lips curving into a small, almost amused smile. “I don’t know. Just thinking out loud.”

Your heart stutters, your breath catching as his words sink in. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way his arm brushes against yours, the warmth radiating from his body, the way his voice dips just enough to make you second-guess everything. But Joe doesn’t seem fazed. If anything, he looks like he’s just commented on the weather, like this vague, half-confession isn’t turning your entire world upside down.

“Joe…” You hesitate, unsure of what to say or how to even process what he just implied.

He finally looks at you, his gaze steady but soft, like he’s daring you to call him out. “What? I’m just saying. It’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You’re torn between laughing at how absurdly casual he’s being and screaming at him for dropping this bombshell like it’s nothing. Instead, you settle for staring at him, your mind racing as the silence stretches on.

And then, as if to hammer the final nail in your coffin, he adds, “I mean, you do look really good in that dress. I wasn’t lying about that.”

It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, and you’re not entirely sure if the warmth spreading through your chest is panic or something else entirely.

Joe doesn’t push. He just leans back against the pillows, his gaze flicking back to the TV like he didn’t just casually crack open the door to feelings you’ve spent way too long pretending don’t exist. But the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gives him away. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

And for the first time, you’re not sure if you want to close that door or walk straight through it.

Your brain short-circuits. There’s no other way to describe it. You sit there, staring at him, your mouth opening and closing like you’re a fish out of water, but no words come out. None. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your thoughts racing too fast for you to grab hold of even one.

Joe waits, his expression unreadable. His eyes flick to yours, searching, like he’s waiting for some kind of confirmation—or maybe a rejection. The seconds stretch into what feels like hours, and the weight of the moment settles heavily between you.

You want to say something, anything, but your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth, and all you can do is sit there like an idiot while your heart threatens to burst out of your chest.

And then, Joe decides he’s done waiting.

Without warning, he leans in, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face as his lips press softly against yours. It’s gentle, tentative, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. The moment his mouth touches yours, it’s like the world stops spinning.

When he pulls back, his gaze locks on yours, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it, and his voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

It takes a second for his words to register, but when they do, they snap you out of your daze. “I’m impossible?” you manage to croak, your voice barely above a whisper. “You just—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I did.”

You blink at him, still trying to process what just happened. But then the realization hits you like a freight train, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “I feel the same way.”

Joe’s smirk widens into a full-blown grin, and he leans back, his hand dropping to rest casually on your knee. “Took you long enough to say it,” he teases, his tone light but undeniably smug. “Thought I was gonna have to spell it out for you.”

Your cheeks burn, and you swat at his arm, unable to stop the small laugh that escapes you. “Oh, shut up.”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hoodie smells like fresh laundry and something distinctly Joe, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of him, your head resting against his chest.

For a while, neither of you say anything. The TV continues playing in the background, the familiar sounds of The Office filling the room, but neither of you are paying attention anymore. Joe’s fingers trace absent patterns on your arm, and every now and then, you catch him glancing down at you with a soft smile that makes your heart flutter all over again.

It’s quiet, easy, comfortable, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. And maybe, just maybe, it is.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nfl fic #nfl football #nfl lb #nfl imagine #joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #joeyb #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc

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theblockedtomb · 8 hours ago

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Has anyone here read Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett? (Or any other discworld tbh) It's a little difference as they're more explicitly comedic fantasy, and the parody nature of the world is explicit from the get-go, but it's still very much a fantasy world. There are dragons and wizards and triumphs and losses, and commentary on every aspect of society you can imagine. There's also the wizard with "Born to Rune" on his jacket, a band called We're Certainly Dwarves (a joke on They Might be Giants that took me years to get) a deaf leopard getting involved in the music industry somehow or other, and probably several dozen other pop-culture puns I missed

Hell, "Character says a line that barely makes sense even to them but is a reference readers laugh at" is really common in discworld books!

You could certainly argue that those references are less niche and more fitting, but honestly they're still a sharp reminder that this book is in conversation with the real world. It's a response to several aspects and themes of real culture that the author found interesting. Likewise, Tamsyn is writing about the real world, imagining if the last vestiges of Earth culture were preserved in a time close to now, by people (one person?) like us. Who care about streaming, and the imminent apocalypse, like we all do.

It always baffles me how Tamsyn Muir writes the locked tomb series as if it's a fanfic. It's such a weird feeling, but I don't in any way mean it as an insult.

When you're reading tlt series there's always this presence of the author that you don't often get on other published books. Like, she'll make in jokes and references as if she's part of the fandom. Right when you're getting immersed in the world she'll pull out a "That's what she said" or "Jail for mother!" and suddenly you remmember that this is a book, with an author, an author really fond of puns and internet memes.

Tamsyn Muir writes like she's writting fanfiction to a small, nieche fandom where all the authors all kinda know eachother, and they've already deviated from canon so much that the stories are their own thing now.

It used to bother me a lot on my first read but now I'm just fascinated by it. It feels like you're reading a work made by a peer. A peer who is really good at writting, but a peer no less.

Maybe it's just that I grew up and have written some stuff myself, and now I can see things I couldn't before. But idk, it just really interests me the way Tamsyn just fucking writes shit like she's just trying to amuse herself or her friends. I came to respect it a lot.

I'm not as good of a writter so there's no conclusion to this really. Just postulating to the void like I'm Palamedes Sextus.

#I'm not gonna get into my feelings about how the third book pivots the theme to something that's tangible to a real human alive today #(the earth is dying- what would you do to save her?)#But like. It's just not meant to be that far removed imo? It's not an impartial account of a far-off land. It's in our world #Its personal #Idk how coherent this is

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ahqkas · 2 hours ago

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Can you please write dumb/subtle/random/cute things batboys will do while they are crushing on reader?

♯ FEEL YOUR LIPS CRUSH . . .

— gn!reader, fluff

BRUCE WAYNE

becomes overly observant but awkwardly obvious

bruce wayne is a master of observation—trained to notice the smallest details in a room, a person, or a crime scene. but when it comes to you, this skill becomes more of a curse than a blessing. his crush transforms his usual precision into something downright awkward as he hyper-focuses on the tiniest parts of your life.

it starts innocently enough. you’ll be in the middle of a casual conversation when bruce interrupts, his deep voice breaking through your train of thought.

“you’ve switched your coffee order recently,” he says matter-of-factly, his piercing blue eyes locking on yours.

you blink, momentarily confused. “uh, yeah. i wanted to try something different.”

“it’s good,” he replies, his tone completely serious, as if your new preference for caramel flavored coffee over vanilla is a critical observation.

sometimes his comments catch you so off guard that you don’t even know how to respond. like the time you came into the room wearing a pair of old sneakers. bruce, who was leaning against the kitchen counter sipping his coffee, glanced down and said, “those laces are frayed. you should replace them.”

you laughed nervously, unsure if he was joking. “uh, thanks for the tip?”

but bruce wasn’t joking. “i’ll send alfred to pick up new ones. you don’t want them snapping mid-step.”

he tries to play it cool, he really does, but his constant streak of seemingly random observations only makes his feelings more obvious. one afternoon, you find him glancing at your notebook while you jot something down. without even looking at you, he says, “you press harder with the pen when you’re tired. your handwriting’s smaller today.”

you set your pen down, giving him a skeptical look. “do you . . . keep track of my handwriting, bruce?”

his face doesn’t change, though you swear his ears flush the faintest shade of pink. “no,” he says smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee. “it’s just. . . noticeable.”

it’s the way he says it—quiet and genuine—that sends your heart fluttering. he doesn’t realize how much he’s revealing, but his small, awkward comments and laser focus on the details of your life make it abundantly clear.

the funny thing is, you’re not the only one noticing. alfred, who’s known bruce wayne longer than anyone, often raises an eyebrow or hides a knowing smirk whenever bruce starts one of his “random” observations.

( “perhaps master wayne should focus on his own handwriting.” bruce glares at alfred, but his lack of a comment only makes the butler’s smirk grow wider. )

finds excuses to be helpful

bruce’s wealth is something he wields with the subtlety of a battering ram when he’s crushing on someone. his intentions are good—he genuinely wants to help—but it often comes off as over-the-top or hilariously unnecessary. for someone as logical and composed as the bat, using his money to make your life easier feels like a no-brainer, but he doesn’t realize just how obvious it makes his feelings.

it starts small at first. you might casually mention needing to replace something—your laptop is acting up or your phone is outdated. the next day, without fail, a box will mysteriously appear at your doorstep. inside, you’ll find not just a replacement but the absolute best version of the device, meticulously selected and clearly expensive.

“bruce,” you say, holding up the latest model of a WE laptop you can’t imagine ever affording on your own. “did you do this?”

he looks up from his work, his expression calm and unbothered. “it’s practical,” he says, as if that’s a reasonable excuse for gifting you a piece of technology worth more than your rent. “your old one was slow. it’s inefficient to struggle with outdated equipment.”

when you try to protest, he waves it off, as though spending thousands of dollars on you is no more different than buying a cup of coffee.

but it doesn’t stop there. one morning, you’re sitting in the kitchen with him, absently complaining about how your car keeps breaking down. it’s an offhanded comment, something you don’t think twice about, but bruce takes it as a challenge. by the time you’ve finished your coffee, he’s already pulled out his phone to make arrangements.

“wait,” you interrupt him, narrowing your eyes as you catch him murmuring something to alfred over the phone. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he replies too quickly, but later that day, you’re startled to find a sleek new car parked outside your home, the keys and a handwritten note from the butler sitting on your counter.

“bruce!” you exclaim, storming into the study to confront him.

he doesn’t even look up from his computer. “your old car was unreliable. this one is safer.”

“that’s not the point!”

“it’s just a car,” he says with a small shrug, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

despite his attitude, it’s clear he’s putting an incredible amount of thought into everything he does for you. his gestures are less about showing off his wealth and more about making sure you never have to struggle, even in the smallest ways. because to him, it’s just logical—he has the resources, so why wouldn’t he use them to make your life easier?

DICK GRAYSON

finds excuses to touch you

for someone as physically expressive as dick grayson, touch comes as naturally as breathing—but when he’s crushing on you, it’s a whole new level. he’s not even aware of how much he does it at first, but the moments start to add up. it’s little things at first: the way he always seems to find a reason to brush his hand against yours, the casual way his shoulder bumps into you when you’re walking side by side, or the way he’ll lean close when he’s explaining something, his hand ghosting over yours as he gestures.

but then, it becomes less about the accidental and more about the intentional. when you’re sitting on the couch together, he’ll sling an arm over the back of it, his fingers close enough to brush against your shoulder. he’ll offer his hand when you’re stepping out of a car or climbing over something, even if you don’t need it, the contact lingers just a second longer than necessary.

“careful,” he’ll say, his voice soft and teasing, even though the step you’re taking isn’t remotely precarious.

“you know i can walk, right?”

he grins, squeezing your hand briefly before letting it go. “just being chivalrous.”

and then, there are the moments when he gets so wrapped up in the conversation or your presence that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. like the time you were sitting together, and he absentmindedly started playing with the hem of your sleeve. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he looked down, startled, his ears turning pink as he quickly let go.

“sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “didn’t realize i was doing that.”

but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

for dick, touch is a way of expressing what words sometimes fail to say. every hand on your shoulder, every playful nudge, and every lingering hug is his way of saying, i like being near you. i like you. even if he hasn’t quite found the courage to say it out loud, his actions make it impossible to miss.

teases you relentlessly (but gets flustered when you tease him back)

teasing is how dick shows affection, how he keeps things light, and, more than anything, how he tries to get your attention. when he’s crushing on you, though, his teasing takes on a new level. every little thing you do seems to give him material to poke fun at, not in a mean way, but in a way that makes it clear he’s paying attention to everything about you.

if you trip over a word while talking, he’ll immediately smirk. “careful there, shakespeare,” he’ll quip. “do we need to enroll you in a public speaking class?” or if you drop something, he’s ready with a dramatic gasp. “wow, butterfingers, do you need me to carry everything for you? i could be your personal assistant, but i charge by the hour.”

it’s playful, yes, but it’s also consistent. he’s always looking for ways to make you laugh, even if it’s at your own expense. like the time you were struggling to open a stubborn jar of jam, and he swooped in, popping the lid off with ease.

“guess i’m just the stronger one here,” he said, flexing his biceps with an exaggerated grin. “it’s okay; not everyone can have these guns.”

but if you so much as raise an eyebrow or fire back with your own jab, the tables turn in an instant. one day, after he’d spent a full five minutes teasing you about your choice of coffee ( “a triple-shot vanilla latte with almond milk? fancy. are you sure you don’t need a royal escort to carry it for you?” ), you finally snapped back.

“oh, and i suppose you’re the coffee expert, mr. regular black coffee? real creative. i bet the baristas have your order memorized.”

the grin on his face faltered for a split second, his eyes widening just slightly. then came the blush—the faint pink hue creeping up his cheeks as he tried to recover, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“hey, black coffee is . . . classic,” he mumbled, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

and that’s the thing about dick grayson: as much as he loves dishing it out, he can’t always handle it when it’s directed at him. the moment you tease him back, especially if it’s about something he’s sensitive about (like his perfectly styled hair or his need to one-up everyone), he turns into an awkward, flustered mess.

“you spend how long on your hair every morning?” you asked him once, teasingly ruffling his carefully combed locks after he made fun of the mismatched socks you were wearing.

he froze, his hand shooting up to fix the damage. “it’s not that long,” he protested, his voice defensive but light.

“oh, come on! i bet you use at least three different products. don’t tell me you don’t have a favorite brand of gel.”

his cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered, “i—you know, it’s just . . . maintenance! can’t all of us roll out of bed looking flawless, okay?”

you laughed, and he groaned, muttering something under his breath about how you were “way too good at this.”

JASON TODD

acts nonchalant but is always nearby

jason todd is many things—brash, sarcastic, sometimes even reckless—but when it comes to feelings he doesn’t fully understand, he defaults to keeping his distance . . . or at least pretending he’s keeping his distance. the truth is, when he’s crushing on you, he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame, always finding an excuse to be wherever you are without making it obvious. or so he thinks.

take your quiet sunday afternoons, for instance. maybe you’ve settled on the couch with a book, enjoying the rare peace. jason walks in, all nonchalant, like he’s just passing through. he glances at you—just a quick flick of his eyes, like he’s making sure you’re still there—and then he settles in the chair across from you, a spot he never uses otherwise.

“what are you doing?” you ask, watching as he pulls out a book of his own, the same one he’s been pretending to read for weeks.

he doesn’t even look up. “reading.”

you roll your eyes but say nothing, knowing full well he’s barely getting through a page. you can feel his gaze on you every few minutes, like he’s trying to memorize the way your brow furrows in concentration or how you chew on the corner of your lip when you’re focused. and if you catch him? he quickly snaps his attention back to his book, pretending obliviousness.

“didn’t know you liked this spot so much,” you tease, gesturing to the chair.

a smirk plays on the edge of his lips, though there’s a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. “what, i can’t sit here now? thought it was a free country.”

it’s always like that—his attempts to mask how much he cares come with a side of sarcasm. but the truth slips through in the little details. like how he never actually leaves the room until you do. or how, even when you’re sitting in silence, he finds a reason to linger. maybe he’s scrolling through his phone, flipping through a magazine, or staring at the ceiling like he’s deep in thought. but really, he’s just soaking in your presence.

and then there are the times when he doesn’t even bother pretending. like when you’re sitting in the kitchen, finishing up some work, and he wordlessly sits down across from you, arms crossed and chin propped in his hand.

“what?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“nothing,” he replies, though the slight curve of his lips gives him away.

it’s not that jason is afraid to admit he likes you ( although there is a possibility he is but we don’t talk about that )—it’s just that he doesn’t know how. so instead, he hovers. he sticks close enough to feel like he’s part of your world but not so close that he risks giving himself away. so while he might act nonchalant, the truth is, he’s anything but. every glance, every lingering moment, every excuse to be near you is jason’s way of saying he cares—he just hasn’t found the words yet.

fixes things you didn’t even know were broken

jason’s way of showing he cares is a little unconventional, but it’s always in the small, unspoken ways. he’s the type to notice things that no one else would—things that have been lingering for ages in the background of your life, just waiting for someone to fix them. but because it’s jason, he’ll never bring it up. he’ll just do it, no questions asked, and then act like it never happened.

it starts with the little things. your chair in the living room? it’s been squeaking for months now, but it’s not something you’ve gotten around to fixing. it’s one of those annoyances you’ve learned to ignore, a piece of background noise that doesn’t really bother you enough to take action.

until one day, it suddenly stops.

you sit down in the chair, and for the first time in ages, it’s silent. your eyes narrow. you didn’t fix this—so who did?

“jason?” you ask, glancing toward him as he lounges on the couch, pretending to be deep in whatever he’s doing.

he doesn’t even look up. “what?”

“the chair. it’s. . . quiet now.”

he pauses for just a moment, but it’s enough to catch the shift in his demeanor. he shrugs, barely concealing the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “must’ve gotten lucky. or maybe it fixed itself.”

you know it didn’t. but before you can press him on it, he’s already back to whatever he was doing, like the whole thing is no big deal. it’s almost as if he’s trying to play it off, hoping you won’t notice that he’s been quietly fixing things in your life, one at a time.

the next thing happens a few days later. you walk into the kitchen, only to find that the light above the sink, the one that flickers every time you try to use it, is now working. perfectly.

you stop, standing in the doorway and just staring at it. there’s no way you fixed it. and it certainly wasn’t broken enough to need replacing. so once again, you turn your gaze to jason, who’s now sitting at the kitchen table, eating a snack and acting entirely uninterested in your investigation.

“jason, did you—?”

“no,” he interrupts and continues watching the video essay he turns on every time he eats.

“uh-huh,” you say, narrowing your eyes, walking toward the light and testing the switch again just to make sure you’re not imagining things. it stays steady, glowing without hesitation.

he’ll never say it out loud, but each fix—each thoughtful act—speaks louder than any words could. the broken things don’t matter, because jason is here, fixing them in his own way, piece by piece.

TIM DRAKE

gets shy when you’re too close

tim drake is usually the picture of composure. he’s calm, collected, and can handle himself in just about any situation, but when you’re too close, all that confidence seems to slip away. it starts small. you’re sitting beside him, maybe sharing a space while working on something, and without thinking, you slide just a little bit closer to him. maybe your arm brushes against his, or your knee nudges his under the table.

it’s enough to throw him off, just for a second. his heart rate picks up slightly, and he tries to hide it behind the screen of his laptop, pretending to focus harder than he really is. but he knows, deep down, that he’s hyperaware of you now—of the way you’re sitting, of the way your presence seems to fill the space between the two of you.

his eyes flicker toward you, but quickly dart away, like he’s afraid you caught him staring. it’s an involuntary reaction, the nervous little shift in his posture as he tries to seem as casual as possible. he clears his throat, his voice slightly quieter than usual. “uh, sorry, was just—just making sure the laptop was charging.”

it’s obvious to you that he’s not really talking about the laptop. he’s trying to act like it’s no big deal, but every time you’re too close to him, tim’s body betrays him. the way his leg shifts a little away from yours under the table, or how he tries to subtly angle his body so there’s just a little more space between you and him, even if he doesn’t want there to be.

you might not notice the subtle movements, but tim does. and every time you get close to him, whether it’s by accident or on purpose, he feels a flutter of nerves that he can’t quite explain. it’s not that he doesn’t want you near him—far from it—but the proximity messes with him in ways he doesn’t understand. his thoughts get jumbled, and his usual calmness slips, replaced by the flustered feeling he’s not used to.

if you ever catch him looking at you, his gaze quickly drops, and a soft blush creeps up his neck. “i—i didn’t mean to—uh, just making sure you’re not too cramped.” he mutters, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his laptop, anything to distract himself from the fact that he’s suddenly very aware of you being so close.

sometimes, when you get too near, tim will just freeze for a moment. it’s like his body can’t process the closeness, and the little awkward silence stretches between you two. it’s not uncomfortable—far from it—but it’s a vulnerable thing for tim, this closeness he doesn’t know how to handle.

but if you keep talking, or even just touch his arm gently when you lean over to look at something, tim’s composure slips even more. he shifts in his seat, trying to act like he’s calm, but his hand might twitch toward yours for just a second before he pulls it away like he’s afraid you’ll notice how he’s reacting.

follows you around during patrol

it’s late at night, the moon casting faint silver light across the streets, and the only sounds are the hum of city life and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. you’re out on a walk, maybe trying to clear your head or just enjoy the quiet, unaware that someone is watching you from the shadows. tim, clad in his suit, has been tailing you for a while now. it’s not that he’s trying to be creepy or intrusive, but rather, he’s just . . . concerned.

tim is the kind of person who can’t turn off his instincts, and tonight, for whatever reason, they’re telling him to stay close. he’s perched high above you on a rooftop, watching you walk along the street below, trying to remain unseen. his red robin suit blends into the darkness of the night, the shadows making him nearly invisible to anyone who might be looking.

he’s not sure why he’s doing it—it’s not like you’ve asked him to keep an eye on you—but there’s something about the quiet stillness of the night that has him on edge. maybe it’s because you’ve been a little distant lately, or maybe he’s just worried something might happen to you in the dark. either way, he’s got his eyes on you, and he won’t stop until you’re safely back where you belong.

he’s quick, agile, moving like a shadow himself. you might hear a faint creak of a fire escape ladder or the flurry of footsteps just out of your line of sight, but when you look, there’s nothing there—just the empty street, the soft glow of streetlights, and the ever-present hum of the city.

it’s when you stop for a moment, distracted by something—maybe you’re checking your phone or admiring a nearby storefront—that he’s closest. in that moment, tim takes a chance, moving closer to you, just a few feet away in the darkened alley. he’s not trying to startle you, but there’s something in his gut that tells him he can’t let you out of his sight, especially when it’s this late, and the streets feel a little emptier than usual.

he’ll hover just out of view, giving you space but never quite leaving you alone. if you keep walking, he follows, keeping his distance but staying close enough to ensure you’re safe. when you stop at a crosswalk or glance around, he’s already a few rooftops away, peering down at you from above, making sure you’re not being followed.

the closer you get to home, the more relaxed tim feels, but he never lets his guard down entirely. even when you reach the safety of your doorstep, he lingers just out of sight, making sure you get inside without any issues. he’ll remain in the shadows for a moment longer, watching as you lock the door behind you, ensuring you’re safe before finally letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

only then does he disappear into the night, his heart still racing, his mind replaying the images of your walk. he’ll retreat to his hidden vantage point, slipping into the dark corners of gotham once more, but the small weight of relief that you’re safe settles deep in his chest. even though he doesn’t want to admit it, there’s a part of him that feels content knowing you’re okay—even if you’ll never know how closely he’s watched over you.

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lost-romantique · 18 hours ago

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The Needs of Both these Messy Gays~

I just want to make a point and state that I'm not attacking or pitting both these guys against each other. They're dumbasses, the both of them.

Blitz is someone that is going to need constant reassurance when he's in a relationship.

Being told the words "I love you" scares the fuck out of him because he doesn't trust those words of love.

At the same time, romantic gestures don't work on him because he's always going to assume the worst.

"And then, he'll call me to see how my day was! And he'll pretend to care about me, and comment on my photos, and LAUGH AT MY JOKES—"

Blitz is someone that has used his body and sex as a way to get what he wants. But his relationship to sex is one of the reasons why he's unable to trust those romantic gestures.

Blitz constantly seeks reassurance, and he asks Stolas for that reassurance a LOT throughout Full Moon and Apology Tour...

"Am I not, like, fucking you good enough? Because I-I can always- I can always do better--"

Blitz immediately asks Stolas for reassurance that he's good enough, and that if he isn't good enough, he makes it a point to tell Stolas that he can do better.

Stolas responds to Blitz saying he cares very deeply for him, but being told he's cared about doesn't give him the reassurance he needs.

Blitz asks for reassurance twice from Stolas in Apology Tour...

"This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody?"

"Stolas, you are better off without me. 'Kay? You deserve so much... I don't even know why you would want to be with me."

Stolas never says anything really wrong in his responses to Blitz, and I think Blitz himself needed to here that. BUT if Stolas were to make one mistake, it would be that he states that he wants somebody / anybody.

Blitz doesn't reach out to Stolas because of his issues in intimacy, and because Blitz himself hasn’t been given the reassurance that he's the one Stolas wants.

Do you know who does give Blitz the reassurance that he's needed? Millie.

Millie is able to give concrete examples to Blitz on how he made an impact on her life.

In fact, Millie states that Blitz is the reason that everything she has in her life is thanks to him being unapologetically himself.

"He gave me so much: a career, a husband, a future, and now... he's my best friend."

The moment Millie gives Blitz the example of how much she values him as a person and as a friend, Blitz immediately asks for reassurance...

"You... you don’t hate me?"

And Millie automatically says, "Nah, never."

The moment Blitz is given the reassurance that he isn't hated by Millie, he opens up, he becomes vulnerable.

Blitz allows Millie to comfort him, and Blitz initiates that intimacy with Millie to which she obliges.

What's beautiful about this exchange is that there isn't anything remotely sexual about it. This is just one friend comforting another friend in need.

Blitz asks for reassurance again in the form of a question...

And the moment Millie reaffirms that sentiment, Blitz opens up and shows Millie the real him.

Not the fuckboy facade, not the mask he wears... this is the REAL Blitz...

Blitz also shows incredible growth by not deflecting to jokes like he usually does, but instead by being honest with Millie...

Blitz promises to Millie that he'll stop impeding on her marriage

Blitz states in the most subtle way that he has feelings for Stolas

Stolas needs to be told that he's cared for and that he's loved by someone.

He's also someone that seeks romantic affection in the form of compliments, and big and small romantic gestures mean the world to him as well.

Blitz unknowingly makes Stolas’s romantic fantasies come true...

A rogue assassin comes into his bedroom to "scale the walls" and he acts like he wants Stolas a lot.

This man is attractive, he is literally the protagonist of a romance novel. His boldness and confidence is alluring. He is a dream come true and he's here to take what's his.

This man just literally sweeps Stolas off his feet, and he still does this while giving you the most smug grin.

Blitz throws Stolas to the bed, and gives him ultimate rizz in the form of this shit eating grin.

And the moment Blitz bites his neck, Stolas is so fucking into it he creams himself.

Blitz is so good actually, extremely good in being bold, confident, and sexy. He knows how to unravel Stolas. *cough*

In fact, the moment Blitz catches him, Stolas is smitten and he is down bad.

To Stolas, this is a big romantic gesture. This is a motherfucking dream come true for Stolas because, "OMG THIS HOT ASS MAN JUST FUCKING SAVED ME!"

But Blitz isn't a romantic, he's not good at showing romantic affection in small ways, and that's what screws him over.

Stolas wants and actively seeks the smallest bit of reassurance and comfort that Blitz can provide, whether it be through text and or in other small ways.

This motherfucking birb, this dumbass Prince, even when he has every right to be angry at Blitz for the shit he said to him, still wants Blitz to hold him. In fact, he makes him hold him.

Stolas is so fucking cute, being all like, "I'm mad at you, but I still demand you hold me."

"You wanna know what I want? I want to know what it's like, to not be alone. I want to be someone's someone. I want to feel wanted. But like, in a romantic way, like I'm standing out in the rain at a train station and someone is shouting: “Harriet! Don’t get on that train, it’s going to London and I cannot be without you!”

Harriet the Train is a big romantic gesture. Stolas likes big romantic gestures, and Blitz is really good at doing actions that are big and bold.

Blitz has made Stolas feel wanted in The Circus and he makes him feel protected in Seeing Stars. Blitz knows how to be big.

Stolas doesn't need Blitz to perform Harriet the Train, but can he? Oh fuck yes he can.

"The point is, I just... want someone to care if I stay or go. I want someone to want... me! To want to see me. To hold me. To look at me and think "You're the only one I want!" [sheds tears] "I desire to hold you and talk to you, and never let you feel so..."

This is what Stolas wants from someone right now. He wants to feel wanted in the small ways, he wants to be held, he wants someone to talk to him, to make him feel not so alone.

Right now, at this very moment, Stolas needs the small stuff. He needs the small bits of intimacy that Blitz is not in the right headspace to provide in Apology Tour.

Do you know who gives Stolas what he needs at the moment? Better than Blitzo guy.

He's smooth and charming in a different way from Blitz. He doesn't even look at Blitz, actually, his eyes are only on Stolas.

"Great song earlier. You have great pipes."

He compliments Stolas on his singing, and Stolas is happy to be given a compliment.

BTB than asks Stolas to dance, and Stolas is both surprised and in disbelief.

Stolas is so happy and genuinely has an amazing time dancing with BTB, he even goes out of his way to use his wings to give Stolas a spin.

BTB even performs a big romantic gesture of pulling Stolas into a sloppy wet kiss, to which Stolas happily reciprocates.

I think both these idiots have the potential to be what the other really needs, and I honestly think with proper communication they can have the most beautiful relationship.

#helluva boss #blitzø #blitzo #helluva boss blitz #ro rambles #stolitz #helluva blitz #stolas #blitzo x stolas #stolas goetia #Helluva meta analysis

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koyagifs · 1 day ago

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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂 - 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮

pairing: poly!ateez x reader au: werewolf | camp counselors | the quarry genre: angst | horror | fluff (?) word count: 2.361 words summary: Welcome to Hackett Quarry camp counselors! We know the events that have unfolded back in 2021 was devastating but we’re happy to announce we’ll be opening for the summer of 2025! With new management and now even more tighter security, we can guarantee your children are safe. We'll love to introduce our new counselors this year! warning(s): Minors do not interact! All characters will be aged up! The boys are in a relationship with the reader but not with each other! They will all be in their early 20's, including the hyung line. This is a horror fic! There will be mention of blood and guns. Characters will curse frequently, make many lewd sexual remarks toward one another, and reference drugs and alcohol, even going as far as having a few drinks around a campfire. Minors do not interact! not edited.

23:50 | June 24th hongjoong & mingi

જ⁀➴ Hongjoong glanced over at Mingi, whose fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel in rhythm with the music. Mingi's hum was soft, almost like he was trying not to disrupt the quiet atmosphere in the car, and Hongjoong couldn't help but feel a little more at ease because of it. He shifted his gaze out the window, watching as the trees blur. Hongjoong looked down to his phone, the no signal bar causing him to groan in annoyance. Mingi took a glance before he let out a chuckle.

" what's wrong hyung?"

" no signal, and we look lost Mingi. Are you sure we're going the right way?" Hongjoong asked, looking at the blank GPS screen.

" well.. we kinda lost signal a couple of miles back but -"

" so we're lost," Hongjoong huffed.

Mingi laughed, a little too casually, keeping his eyes on the winding road. "Not lost, exactly. Just... taking the scenic route."

Hongjoong gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms. "The scenic route? Mingi, we’re in the middle of nowhere, and the GPS has no signal."

Mingi scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "Look, I may have missed a turn. But it’s all part of the adventure, right? No maps, no plans… just us and the open road."

Hongjoong let out a sigh, unable to hold back a small smile. "Only you would call being lost an adventure."

“Come on, hyung, where’s your sense of spontaneity?” Mingi teased, shooting him a playful look.

" yn and everyone else are going to be worried. We promise to keep them updated." Hongjoong grumbled, his eyes going back to the road.

Mingi sighed, " i know, especially since the place is going to be opening for the first time since -"

" since those murders in 2021, yeah i know. Speaking of, why did we agree to do this stupid summer camp?"

Mingi’s playful grin faded as he remembered. "Yeah… guess we didn’t think that part through, huh?"

Hongjoong nodded, his fingers drumming against his knee. "I still don’t know why we agreed. A summer camp at a place with a history like that? They probably think we're crazy."

"Maybe we are," Mingi joked, though there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. "But, hey, someone’s gotta do it, right? Plus, it’s supposed to be a fresh start for the place, a chance to move on."

Hongjoong sighed, still uneasy but trying to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were there to bring something positive. "Let’s just hope we aren’t the ones who need rescuing by the end of this.”

Mingi let out a soft hum, Hongjoong tapping his fingers to the music before something caught his eyes.

A flicker of movement just beyond the trees drew Hongjoong’s attention. He leaned forward, squinting as he tried to make out what he saw—a figure? Something that seemed out of place against the dense green backdrop.

“Mingi,” Hongjoong said, his voice low, his fingers pausing mid-tap. “Did you see that?”

Mingi glanced over, following Hongjoong’s gaze toward the trees. “See what?”

Hongjoong shook his head, still staring as the figure seemed to vanish into the shadows. “I don’t know… I thought I saw someone, just standing there. Watching us.”

Mingi chuckled nervously, trying to brush off the chill that crept into the car. “Probably just some animal, hyung. Or your imagination. It’s the middle of nowhere, remember?”

“Maybe,” Hongjoong muttered, though he couldn’t shake the image from his mind. He forced himself to look away, but the uneasy feeling lingered as they drove deeper into the forest.

Just as Hongjoong looked away, the two males let out a gasp as Mingi tried to swerve away from something that was hunched over on the road. Hongjoong

Hongjoong’s heart raced as he gripped the seat, eyes wide as Mingi jerked the wheel. The car swerved sharply, tires screeching as Mingi struggled to regain control. They both caught a glimpse of a hunched figure, shrouded in shadow, barely illuminated by the headlights before it disappeared from sight.

"Mingi, what was that?" Hongjoong’s voice trembled, his gaze fixed on the dark road ahead.

"I don’t know!" Mingi's knuckles were white against the wheel, his breathing uneven. "It looked… human, but it was— I couldn’t see its face. It just… appeared."

They sat in silence, hearts pounding, as the car rolled to a stop on the side of the road. Both of them were afraid to look back, the air thick with dread.

Hongjoong swallowed, trying to steady his voice. "Should we… check it out? Make sure we didn’t hit it?"

Mingi shook his head quickly, his voice barely a whisper. "Hyung… maybe we just keep going."

" what if it was a person? " Hongjoong asked, already taking his seatbelt off.

Mingi shook his head, " it looked like an animal. Come on, we're nearly there to the camp."

Hongjoong hesitated, his hand frozen on the seatbelt buckle as he looked out into the darkness. "I don’t know, Mingi… if it was a person, we can’t just leave them here."

Mingi swallowed, glancing back at the road nervously. "Hyung, I know how it looked, but… there’s no way that was human. The way it moved, hunched over like that—it wasn’t normal."

Hongjoong’s gaze shifted between Mingi and the empty road, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But something deep down told him that stopping wasn’t a good idea. They were close to the camp, and the thought of being stranded out here with something lurking unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

“Alright,” he finally conceded, slowly putting his seatbelt back on. “But if we hear anything or see it again, we’re checking.”

“Deal,” Mingi agreed, relief washing over him as he started the car. They drove forward, the unsettling encounter leaving a lingering tension in the air as the camp finally came into view through the trees.

00:26 June 25th Hongjoong & Mingi

જ⁀➴ Mingi and Hongjoong were banging on the door, goosebumps covering their body as they sighed in defeat. Mingi crossed his arms, annoyance plater on his face as he turned to Hongjoong.

" did you even talk to the new owner?" Mingi whined, nearly stomping his feet but stopped himself when Hongjoong glared at him.

" the owner didn't pick up, i left him a voicemail.." Hongjoong mumbled, looking away from his young lover.

“A voicemail?” Mingi repeated, exasperated. “You mean to tell me we drove all this way, past… whatever that thing was on the road… for a voicemail?”

“Yeah, because that was such a good call.” Mingi gestured toward the locked door. “Now we’re locked out here, freezing our butts off."

Hongjoong huffed, crossing his arms as he looked up at the old, dark building in front of them. The camp looked even more eerie than he’d expected—weathered wood, windows dark and lifeless, as though it hadn’t been touched in years.

“ you would think with new management they’ll keep the building tidy,” Mingi mumbled.

“ look, why don’t you go and wait in the car for me hm? i’ll take a look around before we look for a hotel nearby,” Hongjoong said, not looking at him.

Mingi nodded. “Alright, but don’t take too long. This place is giving me the creeps,” he muttered, casting a wary glance around.

“I won’t be long, I promise.”

He watched as Mingi shuffled back to the car before he turned to face the old building again, squaring his shoulders and approaching the front door. He knocked once more, the echo fading into the emptiness around him.

After a few moments of silence, Hongjoong sighed, muttering under his breath. “I swear, Yn, you’re in so much trouble when I see you tomorrow.”

He took a few cautious steps around the side of the building, his eyes scanning the windows and doors for any sign of life. The wind picked up, sending a shiver down his spine as he heard leaves rustling nearby. It was quiet, but every now and then, he felt a pair of unseen eyes on him, making his skin crawl.

Back at the car, Mingi waited, glancing at his phone, though it still showed no signal. He looked up as Hongjoong returned to his side, an uneasy expression on his face.

“Any luck?” Mingi asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Hongjoong shook his head. “No sign of anyone. And still no signal?”

Mingi shook his head, disappointed. “Nothing. You think we’ll have to find a hotel?”

Hongjoong nodded, but just as he was about to speak, a faint, eerie crunch echoed from the nearby trees, causing both of them to freeze. Hongjoong’s hand instinctively moved to Mingi’s shoulder.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his own voice barely steady. Whatever was out there, they both knew it was no simple animal.

Hongjoong’s eyes darted to the source of the sound, heart pounding as he scanned the dark treeline. The crunching grew louder, deliberate, like someone—or something—was circling them.

Mingi looked at Hongjoong in fear, "hyung… maybe it’s just an animal,” he whispered, though his voice betrayed his unease.

But Hongjoong shook his head, eyes narrowing as he listened. "That’s not just an animal, Mingi. It sounds… heavier.”

They stood side by side, barely daring to breathe as the footsteps grew closer, each crunch of leaves sending a wave of dread through them. The sound was heavy, calculated, like something stalking its prey.

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, holding Mingi a little closer. “Stay behind me,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving the shadowed trees. He could feel Mingi’s hand trembling on his arm, but he kept his own grip steady, bracing himself for whatever might emerge.

“Hyung…” Mingi’s voice was a shaky whisper, his wide eyes darting around, searching for a way out.

With the wind howling, the leaves shuffling and the full moon shining brightly down below them seemed such a scene out of a horror movie. The taller male clinging onto the shorter male as he held his phone, the light shinning as much as it could.

“ hyung, let’s just go back into the car and -“

The sudden animalistic growl cut Mingi off, Hongjoong shifting his light towards the sound. Mingi’s grip tightened on Hongjoong, making him hiss out in pain.

Hongjoong winced, trying to shake off the discomfort as he adjusted the light, its narrow beam barely cutting through the darkness around them. Mingi reluctantly loosened his grip but stayed close, his wide eyes fixed on the shadowed trees as another low growl echoed from deeper within the forest.

“Let’s… let’s just go back,” Mingi pleaded, his voice trembling. “We don’t need to know what that is, hyung. We really don’t.”

Hongjoong hesitated, glancing between the safety of the car and the darkened path in front of them. The logical part of him agreed with Mingi—every instinct screamed at him to turn back and drive far away. But another part of him felt rooted, as if something in the shadows was pulling him closer, demanding his attention.

Just as he was about to speak, the growl grew louder, more ferocious, reverberating through the trees. This time, it was accompanied by the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching, as if something large and powerful was moving toward them.

Hongjoong’s heart raced, and he gave Mingi a firm push toward the car. “Get in and lock the doors.”

“Hyung, I’m not leaving you here alone!” Mingi protested, panic flaring in his eyes.

Hongjoong shrugged the younger male off as he turned to him. A look so serious, Mingi knew that he is to take everything he says serious.

“ run to the car and don’t turn back. Go!” Hongjoong yelled, shoving Mingi away just as something tackled Hongjoong to the ground.

Mingi stumbled backward, his eyes wide with fear and hesitation as he watched Hongjoong struggle beneath the weight of the creature. It had lunged from the shadows so fast, like a blur of dark, twisted limbs, pinning Hongjoong to the ground before he could even react.

“Go!” Hongjoong shouted again, his voice strained as he fought to push the creature back.

But Mingi couldn’t move, rooted to the spot in terror. Every part of him wanted to run, to obey, but seeing Hongjoong on the ground, fighting for his life, kept him frozen.

“Damn it, Mingi, run!” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the haze, snapping him back to reality.

With a strangled gasp, Mingi finally turned, sprinting toward the car with his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His footsteps were loud against the ground, but the only thing he could hear was the sound of Hongjoong’s struggling breaths and the creature’s low, guttural growls. Tears pricked at Mingi’s eyes, guilt and fear clawing at him as he fumbled with the car door, throwing himself into the driver’s seat.

He glanced back, just in time to see Hongjoong shove the creature off, his face twisted in pain but his determination unwavering. But before Mingi could even think of helping, the creature lunged again, claws flashing in the dim light.

Desperation took over as Mingi turned the key in the ignition, praying the car would start. The engine sputtered, and he cursed, trying again. “Come on, come on…”

Mingi’s hands shook violently as he jammed the key into the ignition again, his heart racing faster with each failed attempt. Hongjoong’s cries echoed in his mind, fueling his desperation, and he felt the weight of panic press down on him like never before.

“Please, please, just start!” he muttered, voice thick with fear, gripping the wheel as if sheer force would make the engine turn over.

The engine gave one last sputter before roaring to life, the sudden sound almost a relief too great to bear. As Mingi’s hands gripped the steering wheel, a cold, vice-like grip suddenly yanked him from his seat, tearing him out of the car with terrifying strength. He barely had time to scream as he was dragged backward, his nails scratching against the ground in desperation. His terrified cries pierced the night, echoing through the dense forest, scattering the last few birds that had been resting in the trees.

“H-Hongjoong!”

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yaseraphine · 14 hours ago

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short-medium mercury observations bcuz I am feeling silly

A little silly astro obs until I am finished with the capricorn rising one. This post is just leo mercury non sense please don't mind me

I feel like a lot of water mercuries, especially scorpio mercuries, don’t talk much. They tend to observe, analyze and stay kind of out of the conversation. They only speak when it’s necessary. The opposite of a yapper basically

They also tend to have deep voices, both for men and women.

Capricorn mercuries can be a bit like this too. Really dry texters (as a leo mercury it gives me anxiety i feel like they hate me when they talk to me.. like if you hate me just tell me ☹️💔😭)

I genuinely don’t understand capricorns, and capricorn energy. Except when it’s in the ascendant or Venus, their energy is unreadable to me. Whenever I interact with a Capricorn, I feel like they hate me and don’t want to be there because they are not really expressive when they speak and are really direct and realists in their talking style. As a Leo mercury, I feel so judged 🫠😟Like if you hate me just say that💔😭😫

I am super expressive when I speak, kind of like a theater kid. Kind of like the voices in cartoons. Overtly excited when saying worldly stuff, like talking about the weather in the most dramatic way. When I speak, my tone goes up and down, it feels like you’re on a roller coaster when you interact with me. I have had people coming to me many times in the streets or the library telling me that I am too loud and that I should lower my voice to be respectful lol💀🤡💩 sorry😀

Aries and Leo mercuries, sometimes sag mercuries : we can’t shut the f up to save our lives lol the number of times i have been kicked out of class with my friends at school for being too loud, and laughing too much i can’t even count help-💀🤪🤠

Mercury in Sagittarius are so funny but at the same time so cringe my mom has it and she always makes corny dad jokes and she’s always the only one laughing at the diner table lmaoo

Mercuries in Gemini are so fucking smart, not in a genius way, but they can pick up on stuff so easily. Like understanding a text, or seeing the main points of a text without reading it in its entirety. They are really good at making connections between things, and connections that make sense. They are generally as logical as virgo mercuries, but they lack the meticulous side. They are pretty much to me a virgo mercury with ADHD on crack lol I'd say instead of being smart, they are more so perceptive, insightful or astute.

Some Mercury in Pisces sometimes speak so cryptically that it gets hard to understand, once they open their mouths, where they are going with what they’re trying to say. Their talking style is kind of surreal and romantic. They tend to create new words, and change up the grammar and verb conjugations. Their sensitivity and capacity to perceive things that cannot be seen by the naked eye is what makes them invent those words, because the already existing vocabulary isn’t enough to express this hyper specific thing or feeling they have.

Mercury in Pisces and Mercury in Virgo were placements that I found in the biggest readers I know. Both love reading and writing, and they have a thing for romance novels or fantasy books from what I've seen. Really delulu people in their own respective ways 🫡 but at the same time really talented 😁😍

the type of fiction virgo and pisces mercuries be writing on AO3 and Quotev instead of being productive members of society :

i just know a pisces mercury was behind this soul crushing poem 😞😔😿🫂

#astrology #astro community #astro notes #astro observations #tumblr memes #astro memes #astrology memes #feeling silly #channeled my 3rd house north node energy for this post #astro obs #astro posts #astronotes #astrology observations

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part-time-zombie · 1 day ago

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Okay I just had the idea ever:

Patton is moping about how Logan doesn't laugh at any of his jokes (or really anything else) and Roman says something about how he's "just too serious to laugh" and that he "probably doesn't even know how to", and Janus overhears this and proposes a wager that he'll be able to get Logan to laugh. The other sides all skeptically agree, even putting money on it because they really don't believe he'll pull this off.

Janus then walks up to Logan, who's been working on something in the kitchen and pointedly ignoring everyone in the living room, and whispers something in his ear. Before anyone can guess what he said, Logan just starts fucking CACKLING. Like, openly laughing loud enough for it to probably echo through the whole house. He's got one hand clutching his ribs like it hurts and the other holding him up against the kitchen table as he just keeps laughing, much to everyone's utter disbelief.

Janus makes his way around the living room, very smugly collecting the money he won from everyone and heading upstairs with a fistful of cash and a shit-eating grin.

The other sides sit in stunned silence, realizing all too belatedly that Logan has stopped laughing and is back to calmly continuing his work as if nothing had happened.

What did Janus tell him?

"I just bet each of those suckers twenty bucks that I'd be able to make you laugh. If you laugh like I just told you something funny, I'll use the money to buy you Crofters".

(we all know that Janus is not above bribery, and Logan will do anything for Crofters)

#sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #just a little idea #i thought it was funny #fic idea #maybe

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fandoms-in-law · 3 days ago

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A Demon's Safehouse

Summary: Steve isn't 'neglected' or 'abandoned', He's a child who got sold to a demon before ever being born. He knows why the demon isn't around just like he knows xir roar as he fights demobats off after being yanked into the upside down.

Everyone else involved in his life and the Upside Down do not know who/what this is or why they're getting deposited in a safehouse all together.

Author's note: If you want to read this in separate chapters, it's done like that on AO3, but honestly, I'm not making 11 posts and messing about linking them all today, so tumblr can have it all in one post. This is based on/ an expansion of an idea I shared august 2023 but as that scene is included in the fic, I don't think it needs linking either. Please enjoy.

/\/\

It wasn’t something Steve spoke about, finding it too complicated to explain for nobody to believe him. Then it felt too personal, or too much like Nancy’s gun would be trained back on him never moving, to share at all.

Then again, his friends finding out like this wasn’t much more preferable either.

Perhaps the Upside Down actually was connected to Hell for his owner’s roar to be echoing through the trees. Perhaps he wasn’t about to die at the hands of these bat-like creatures.

Steve had been trying to fight, had managed to get the bat choking him off once Nancy, Robin and Eddie appeared to help fight with him, but now he dropped, the roar ringing through him as he realised he demonic owner was aware he’d been, was being, attacked. The command to stay out of it didn’t need stating beyond that noise.

“Steve, get the fuck back up! Nancy demanded in a scream. “We have to keep-” Her words cut off as his owner threw her and Robin to the ground beside him, and Steve could see Eddie dropping similarly to how he had at the sight.

“Xe enforces orders if they aren’t immediately followed.” He explained, fairly sure that only gave his ex more questions.

“Xe?” Robin asks, wriggling to grab his hand. “Xe is a name for the thing eviscerating the bats? Xe gave no orders?”

Steve laughs, “Xir pronoun. You’ll get used to it and you wouldn’t have understood it.”

A low snarl had him laughing more as he sat up, “This is what sends you on the rampage? A few bat creatures? Forget Jonathan, the demogorgan, demodogs, mindflayer, Hargrove or the Russians, this is what makes you all possessive?”

“Are you making a joke? Why are two of those beginning demon?” There’s venom in xir voice and Steve huffs, dialling back his amusement before he got in trouble. It might not have happened before but if being made to follow orders was unpleasant he didn’t want to know what a punishment would mean.

“Nancy’s brother and his friends used their game to name things. Dorks and dragons.” He explained. “And should I mention thinking this place is a hive mind? Everything but us possibly connected and wanting us dead?”

Xe growled again, but snapped xir claw moving all of them out of the Upside Down, Steve hoped.

/\/\

Steve and the demon were the only ones to remain standing when they appeared in the safehouse and he looked around half curiously. He’d only been a few times in his life and knew the rooms changed by themselves so wanted to figure out if he’d been in their current room before.

“Stay here. I’ll get the rest then sort out whatever went on there.” Xe ordered, already turning to leave.

Steve chuckled, calling back “How would you expect us to leave?”

“How did you get there!” The exasperated call hadn’t finished when xe vanished.

Nancy had stood in the exchange and glared at him. “Who and what was that? Where are we, Steve?” She demanded.

“A safehouse.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, still a bit amused. “That was a demon, specifically xir my owner, something about a deal before I was born.”

“So the Upside Down is hell?” Robin asked, chipper as if that would distract Nancy from her annoyance.

Steve shrugged, “Maybe, don’t know. Wouldn’t have said so if xe hadn’t shown up.” Thinking about it made him snicker at the thought demons had been coming after him for years and xe hadn’t known until now.

Nancy’s eyes glinted as she started to ask something else but broke off at the sound of Erica Sinclair yelling in the next room.

“You don’t abduct kids! Put us back! This is – Steve?” Erica stopped at the sight of them, hurrying over to Steve and Robin to check they were okay.

Steve grinned, waving to Dustin, Lucas and Max too. “Hey, Xe isn’t much for introductions but in better news, I think xir going to sort this mess out for us.” Staying in the safehouse seemed like a lot more fun with his kids and Robin around. Eddie wasn’t a bad addition either and Nancy would have to calm down sooner or later, right?

“You got yanked into the lake and now we’ve been dragged here by god knows what. What’s going on?” Max asked, nearly demanding and looking around in concern but not fear after realising he was mostly relaxed.

“Demon got possessive over Steve.” Robin teased, leaning over his shoulder, “And has put us all in time out because of it.” Having the pressure on his back reminded Steve that he probably did still need some first aid, but he didn’t feel like bringing that to anyone’s attention. If it was anything like his first stay here then he’d soon be healed regardless.

Dustin’s eyes had lit up at the comment, staring at him with as many questions but at least a slightly less demanding expression than Nancy had. “Demons are real? What are they like? Do they really make deals? Why is one involved now? Is Vecna a demon?” He rattled off the questions all at once and Steve laughed.

“Yes, varied, yes, me and probably not. Does this have to be a constant interrogation?” He answered them all in order still laughing.

“Yes. You’ve hid a lot from us we definitely need to know now. Xe’s you’re parent?” Steve was surprised nobody was checking him for concussions simply because he’s laughing more at the repeated question. Nancy kept glaring as she waited for an answer though, and the kids seemed torn between looking around the house they’d all been deposited in and asking more of their own.

“Xir my owner. You know, demon deals, fairytale deals with witches, that kind of thing?” He stated.

Lucas frowned at him for a moment, “Owned like a pet or like a slave?”

“Same difference. I still have little choice over what I-” He broke off as more yelling broke out. He’d assumed only the kids in Hawkins were getting dragged to this safe house but given that was definitely Mike and Jonathan’s voices apparently he was wrong.

Steve led the others through rooms to the new arrivals just in time for Joyce, Murray, some guy yelling in Russian and Hopper? Somehow Hopper was also appearing.

Robin looked over them and back to Steve. “I know you said xe owns you but xir doing the impossible and raising the dead. Joyce, what deal did you make?”

A look of added confusion at the question told Steve enough. “Hey Hopper, by any chance were you captured by the Russians at Starcourt and tortured over the last year?”

“Yes but getting kidnapped while escaping was not my expectation.” Hopper agreed, scowling and looking around. “Especially not since it seems everyone else involved in the Upside Down has been too. What does that thing want from us?”

“Xir property to be safe and looked after. Pretty sure xe isn’t bothered beyond that.” Steve flippantly answered. “Honestly xir going further than I expected, so Jonathan, I’m very sorry for mentioning you when xe first turned up.”

Hopper leant back, glaring at him now, rather than around the room. “We’ve been kidnapped by what? Because of you how?”

“A demon I was sold to before I was born. We haven’t been kidnapped, just stored at a safehouse, I think while xe gets rid of the Upside Down entirely? Attacking a demons property isn’t a good idea if xe finds out.”

“Can I kill the Harrington’s? Is that actually the surname of your parents?” Steve had to laugh at Robin’s words, knowing that everyone’s focus was likely to stay on him for a while.

That was also when he properly registered the group around Mike and Jonathan had someone he didn’t know but also had a girl far quieter than he’d have expected. “El? You’re glaring at the wall, not reuniting with Hopper or anyone. Are you okay?” He asked, stepping over to her.

“No.” The reply was succinct but not helpful, and Hopper was moving towards her just as Steve was. “Your demon only put us all in the safehouse but other people helped me too.”

Steve frowned, “I think xe has only gathered people I view as family or who were with and helping people when xe located you all.”

“I was getting my powers back.” She said bluntly. “I need them.”

“Pretty sure you don’t.” Eddie called, waving with a grin when Hopper frowned over at him. “Guessing you’re the supergirl these guys kept mentioning and after seeing Steve’s demon in action, I don’t think you need to worry about fighting anything Upside Down any more.”

“But Jonathan hurt Steve once. I need to protect him.” El retorted.

Steve huffed a laugh out again. He knew his owner wouldn’t hurt him, or share xir name until xe decided he was old enough, but to most of the group xe was an unknown threat that had them captured before they’d got a chance to fight back. Then here was their group’s superhero being the only one to listen and connect what he’d said together. “You’re right. I can’t guarantee I can calm xim down if xe decides Jonathan needs punishing for a fight we had 3 years ago, but I will try to talk to xim first. I will do what I can to protect him, just as much as you will.” He reassured her, before blinking and glancing over to Eddie. “Also, yes Eddie, this is El or Jane as I think she’s legally called now. El, this is Eddie. He’s the DM of the boys club and witnessed the first death of this go around. We’ve been keeping him hidden as the town’s gone full witch hunt after him.”

“This go around?” Jonathan asked, trepidation breaking into his voice as everyone who hadn’t been in Hawkins froze, turning to whomever they were closest to that had stayed in Hawkins.

Robin snickered now, coming to lean over Steve’s shoulder. “Did you think this boy’s owner kidnapped us all for normal shit? Steve was trying to find out if there was a gate where the kid’s compasses pointed and got dragged through. Me, Wheeler and Munson dived in after just in time for xim to show up.”

/\/\

Steve had to get away from being the centre of attention for a while. He got it. Everyone had apparently been dealing with shit and being put in one place together wasn’t really a solution to any of it, but that didn’t mean he had any answers or knowledge beyond having been brought here once before.

After trying and failing to slip away a few times he just ignored the people calling him back, cutting through doors he remembered thinking were cupboards when he was twelve and trying to explore everywhere. He could only hope they’d believe the same now, or be too uncertain over exploring a demon’s home to try going through them.

“You doing okay?” Robin asked, coming through a different door a few minutes later. From the direction he bet she’d watched him leave and gone in the opposite direction out of the room most of the group was trying to stay gathered in. Xe must like her though, because finding him now meant the house had helped her pick the directions to try and find him in.

“Fine.” He muttered, slouching into the chair between bookshelves.

She didn’t reply, just came over to sit on the armrest, leaning over him.

“Slaves are owned by other humans and aren’t free. Children are effectively owned by their parents or guardians and have a time limit on when they should become free. I am owned by a demon and will never be free even in death. It hangs over me and I don’t know what xe wants, or expects from me other than that I’ll have to give it when asked.” He ranted, tugging at his hair in frustration. “When xe explained how to be popular I thought that was xir orders for me, but xe didn’t care when I stopped. Xe suggested I support myself. It wasn’t an order but I took it as one, and now we’re here?”

Robin’s hand brushed his back comfortingly. “You’re still worried about missing xir orders, aren’t you?”

“That growl was the clearest I’ve had in years. It was simple.” He looked at her, showing his fear and confusion. “I’m not free but xir not – I don’t know if I’m trapped either, beyond everyone temporarily being stuck here.”

“So we’re all expecting you to know what’s going on when you’re probably the most lost out of all of us.”

He sighed heavily. “The kids shouldn’t know what I’m going through. They’ve got good parents.”

Robin nodded, sliding into the chair so they were squished together. “Dustin’s trying to get Lucas and Mike to scheme with him over how to buy you from the demon even without knowing much.” She commented. “Will and Eddie meanwhile dodged out of the conversation claiming that they should try to find you after you left. I think they’re actually trying to figure each other out. Will’s upset with the other boys and on edge with Eddie while Eddie is so interested in Will. Apparently the kids apparently talk him up during Hellfire.”

“Ten bucks says one of the next campaigns covers breaking into a demon house.” Steve snorted. “This place treats people differently based on how much xe likes you.”

/\/\

“That boy cares for you and her and immeasurably for those kids. And you? You’re forever two steps from taking one of his kids away cause you never bothered getting to know him.” Xe was quiet, firm and Jonathan didn’t know what was going on.

The demon had come back to the safehouse, spoken to El, nodded through a door at Robin and tugged him through to a separate room. Xe was undeniably dangerous but the mind reading, if that’s what was happening, had him on edge more than any risk of harm.

Still he disagreed. “I know Harrington well enough.”

“Then tell me when he and Nancy broke up.” Xe stated. Something showed xe were annoyed but controlling xirself carefully and part of Jonathan wished he could identify what.

“Tina’s Halloween party in ‘84.”

“When Wheeler was black out drunk and went to seek him out the next day? Nope, they didn’t.”

“Well then that’s when.” It seemed like the logical assumption, but Jonathan stepped back as he realised he only had assumptions now, that Nancy had never said and he hadn’t thought to ask, even through Murray’s matchmaking conversation and that night.

“Still wrong. They were arguing but not breaking up. My boy got her flowers and was going to try talking it through later.” Xe stated and now what xe was saying grew clearer.

Arguably Jonathan was one of the first people involved with the Upside Down and one of the first to take steps to fight back against it, but in that moment he wondered just how much of the story he’d missed. It definitely showed that some of the interpersonal relationships had gone unnoticed or ignored because they focused on Steve Harrington and he hadn’t cared to know.

“I don’t read minds. I see the past and intentions or desires of people. You know nothing of my human. You are blinded by rumours and assumptions plus a bad day which your actions made worse. Lose them and get to know Steve.” Xe ordered. “Or I will ensure it’s him all the kids go to first for brotherly help and advice.”

With that the demon left and Jonathan froze, wanting to ask who Steve’s kids were despite already knowing. Xe could estrange Will to him if he didn’t listen and that terrified him more than any attack or threat of physical harm could.

/\/\

Nancy had watched the door since the demon took Jonathan through it and was already standing when xe walked straight past her. “Aren’t you going to drag me off too?”

She’d thought over what Steve had said more due to El’s worries and had reasoned xir mentioned protectiveness would mean xe had judgement for her too.

Xe looked at her like she was an irritating bug. “No. You’ve already realised how little you know of Steve and already seen how easily Michael can estrange or replace you. There’s nothing to say that wouldn’t waste breath.”

The dismissal almost hurt more than whatever she’d expected. It only made her feel smaller when xe went to kneel at Erica’s side, “Young Miss, you made a deal with my human we need to discuss.”

/\/\

Erica didn’t fear this demon. Xe might own Steve and use pronouns she’d never heard of but she had xir number: If xe expected them to believe Steve was just xir property xe shouldn’t have gathered everyone for him.

“So are you looking to renegotiate for Steve or tell me to let it go?” She asked, following xim in the direction Will and Eddie had gone exploring in.

Xe looked over xir shoulder at her, amused as xe reached into a cabinet of the kitchen they’d entered, “Neither. I’m giving you your due.”

“A bowl and a spoon?” She eyed the items sceptically. “We have plenty of those at home.”

“But can you state an ice cream flavour and have it appear in those?” There was a challenge in xir eyes that she met easily, deciding what to test the bowl with.

“One scoop lemon dream, 2 scoops chocolate brownie, topped with caramel sauce.” She glanced down after saying to see the ice cream she’d requested there. “This is staying with Steve for now. I don’t need my parents getting suspicious of it, but why?”

Xe watched her, assessing but not judgemental. “Steve misunderstood something I said. This is how I’ll help my boy for now.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, tempted to wait it out and try for more information but shrugged it off, realising that she shouldn’t push a demon too much. “Okay then. Are we safe now?”

Xe only said yes before xe was gone back towards the room everyone else was in.

/\/\

While xe had been with Erica, Nancy had vanished from the visitors room. Xe was certain she was trying to find Jonathan, and xe knew that some of the kids had gone into a neighbouring room when xe arrived to discuss freeing xir boy; a sweet sentiment.

The teens and kids remaining looked uncomfortable so xe offered, “If you want to explore, go ahead, kids. Steve will find you when you get lost.” Getting lost was assured for most of them and xe wasn’t going to lie about it.

The powerful girl hesitated, looking from xim to the adults. “He’s learning. Be nice.” She cautioned but corralled the other kids with her, claiming Jonathan would be nearby when the final older teen tried to remain.

“Smart kid, knows which battles to pick and yours is already lost.” Xe commented, turning to the emancipated man who’d jumped up. “Although your latest months have been punishment enough for that.”

“What’s lost?” Hopper demanded, glaring and moving closer. Xe found it daring but stupid, as if simply sending the kids to explore had been a threat xe needed attacking over.

Xe smiled coldly, the temperature of the room matching xir expression. “Any chance you or her can claim to care for my boy.”

“We do!” Joyce protested. “He’s a good-”

“Shield.” Xe interrupted. “That’s what you use him as. A body shield for the kids you leave in danger.”

Both humans bolstered and Hopper snapped, “That is not how we see him. He’s brilliant.”

“It is pretty much how he gets treated.” Murray said nonchalantly, still sitting and looking around at the exits to the room. “I mean, Joyce’s eldest and his girlfriend have already had their talking to, sorry for my part in that, I guess, but we’re the grown ups here. No kid should be left to protect others but that’s exactly what we’ve done twice and unknowingly a third time I’m gathering.”

Xe laughed. “This man, he argued against kids being involved at all the one time he was active in the fighting. Makes him the best parent of the lot of you after my boy. Steve accepts that they’re involved and will not stay out of it through any restriction less air tight than literally spiriting them away to a safe house they can’t leave.”

“My kids are my world.” Joyce protested.

“Who you abandoned with lies instead of an explanation when you decided to try saving him.” Xe countered, gaze darkening. “And who weren’t willing to share the bullying they’ve gone through or the fact one of them was apprehended for an assault before you left that she’s since been arrested for. The entire mess I’ve cleared up is the only reason she’s not in a cell still. Good parents don’t forget to look after their kids because of a ransom note.”

Neither Hopper or Joyce knew how to respond to that and even Murray was shifting uncomfortably

“I am involved and I will do what you failed to do.” Xe stated. “El believes you are learning but you had better learn quickly, because currently I will support my boy adopting any of those kids he thinks needs a safer or better home and support system. He’s proved himself in doing that already. You have not.”

/\/\

The demon was still there. Dustin had checked and kept listening on the conversation through the archway. Xe had been harsh on Hopper and Joyce from the bits he’d been able to make out clearly enough, but hadn’t left.

Actually Hopper and Joyce had been the ones to leave, storming out through the room Dustin had pulled Mike and Lucas through to and further into the house. Given how many people had gone through the 3 doors into these rooms, Dustin was beginning to suspect it shifted around them.

Either way, it gave them the chance to make their case. Murray wouldn’t stop them and whoever the new man was didn’t seem to understand English so couldn’t.

The demon looked amused as he pulled his friends through, leaning back in a chair, showing xir control of the situation better than any executive ever could. “You have a question?” Xe drawled meeting each of their eyes.

“We want Steve.” Dustin began but fell silent at xir dismissive laugh.

Xe waved a hand to one exit of the room, “He’s through there. I’m not keeping him trapped here. Once I know that area is completely gone, you’re all going back to Hawkins, my boy included.”

He stuttered for a moment, but hearing Mike’s argumentative noise tried again, “You can’t own people! We want Steve.”

“And you can?” Xe stood, looming over him for a moment, “That’s what you’re asking for, ownership transfer and frankly humans treat people they claim to own worse than any demon has treated anyone they’ve owned.”

“As if we believe that!” Mike snapped, coming to stand beside Dustin and cutting off any attempt to focus on what they’d give to have Steve. “You’re a demon. You lie.”

The demon scoffed now, gesturing vaguely around the exits to the two rooms, “Look at your girlfriend and best friend. Steve is my boy. That’s not changing.”

Both boys huffed, glancing back to Lucas who remained slightly behind them silently. Dustin only took a moment to think over the demon’s words before arguing, “He shouldn’t be owned by anyone. Let him go.” He was proud for a moment, thinking that changing the phrasing would explain what they wanted better.

“No. He won’t see it as giving him ownership of himself. He’ll see it as ownership transferral and you brats already push his boundaries and take advantage of everything he does for you. I will keep my boy and ensure he knows refusing you is okay, encouraged even when he needs a break.” Xe explained calmly now, but firm.

“We do not-” Mike began to argue.

Xe stepped to lean close to him, “Wheeler, you treat him the worst of your friends. Don’t test a demon of the treatment of their human. It won’t end well for you.” Xe stated quietly, straightening after. “Now, this attempt of yours has been sweet. Go explore now.”

Dustin’s shoulders drooped as he turned to try and plan some more arguments, but Lucas stepped forwards now. “Nobody should be a slave.”

“Entirely agree.” Xe smiled at him, “But is Steve a slave? Would you have thought that before learning of me?”

Lucas shook his head slowly, but still watched xim with narrowed eyes. “No, he seems to think so though.”

Xe was grinning now, turning to sit back down and nodding. “My boy has many thoughts of me and my ownership but they’re complex. Nothing as simple as slavery implies though. Your sister is more astute.”

“I’ll start paying closer attention then.” He confirmed, turning and tugging Mike with them away from the demon.

Dustin just heard a satisfied “Good” as they went to sit back in their plotting room.

/\/\

Steve didn’t know whether to be concerned or amused when he led Robin back to the room they’d been brought to originally only to find everyone except Murray, the Russian and the demon gone. “So we’re not going back to Hawkins soon then?”

“Give it a day or two. Removing offshoots is difficult, even more so with this much mortal influence in the creation of it.” Xe replied, “But I think it’s time you tell me just what those quips when I arrived meant.”

That was an order. It resonated in Steve and he tightened his grip on Robin’s hand at the unfamiliar sensation. “You mean the times I’ve fought over the last four years?”

“Yes.” Xir eyes narrowed, scanning over his form. “As well as why no-one has checked your injuries since I brought you here. That’s only healing because of the safehouse.”

“They had questions and I didn’t feel like combining an interrogation with getting first aid.” He replied, tugging Robin with him to sit down. “Let’s start with the Russians so I can explain why.”

Murray looked over at that, “Starcourt, right? Never got told why the kid could give directions. Can I listen in?”

“Sure.” Agreeing was easy, but even with Robin there beside him Steve didn’t know how to start.

The demon didn’t let him hesitate for long. “Do you have specific names for the people who hurt you in this Starcourt?”

“No, just Russians. If names were said between them it was after I was too concussed to remember them or said in Russian.” He answered, sighing. “I kept their attention, kept yelling before that, wasn’t going to let Robin get hurt if I could do anything to stop it. She might-” He drifted off, meeting Robin’s concerned gaze and knowing she didn’t know any names either.

She let out a small noise, squeezing his hand. “They had a base under the mall, trying to get through to the Upside Down, where you found us,” She paused, gesturing to xim. “Dustin intercepted their radio message so we investigated, managed to get in, even got Erica and Dustin out but we got captured. Steve tortured. I never knew why I wasn’t also. Thought they’d killed him when I was dragged into the same room as him after hours.”

Xe looked between them, reaching over to rest a claw softly on Steve’s knee. “How long did they have you for?”

The pair shared a glance, saying guesses at each other until Murray cleared his throat to get their attention. “Too long and let’s leave it there instead of guessing.”

“That wasn’t all they did.” The words, condemning missing information, made Steve’s shoulders slump in, almost curling protectively into Robin.

“Once we were together they left us alone for a bit, tied back to back. Long enough I woke up and Robin tried planning a beginning of an escape. Then they drugged us and were going to torture us again, removing finger nails or something. Said we were hurt but the doctor would help us when that was starting. Dustin and Erica came back then, used some overpowered taser rod thing to attack the doctor when the others had left. I think it killed him but Dustin can’t know that. He can’t have the trauma of knowing he might’ve killed someone when he was just trying to save me, save Robin.” Steve finished, words growing quieter as he ended that story.

Robin rested her head on top of his, arms coming around him too. “From there it was getting out, hiding in a movie, hiding again when we saw Russian guards checking the people leaving to try and find us, the other kids arriving in time for El to save us from those guards, adults coming in, crashing the car into Billy’s to save the kids, fighting the mindflayer, same old chaos everyone else could tell you about.”

The claw on his knee dug in for a moment, not enough to hurt, but enough he knew how tense xe was before xe shot up and stormed from the room. “Wait, I’ll do your first aid now. You two comfort each other we can talk about the other things you’ve mentioned later.”

It was an easy instruction for Steve to hear, already wrapped in Robin, but xir departure was paused by Murray. “Dmitri says he might know some of the names of people involved, or know where the records for that infiltration would be.”

“Write them down and I’ll review them later. My boy needs looking after first.” Xe grunted still leaving the room.

/\/\

It didn’t make sense to Robin.

Steve spoke of being owned and worrying over it but still talked back and seemed relaxed by the demon’s presence and the demon? Xe wasn’t parenting her friend but xe were close to it.

Xe was gentle with Steve, letting him hide and warning him of any actions xe did. When xe finished checking one side for injuries, Robin thought xe would just move him, and went to speak but instead xir grounded Steve with soft words and a hand heavy on his knee, waiting until he looked up to request, not order, the position change.

She couldn’t help wondering more and more why Steve worried in the way he’d just confided to her. This didn’t seem like an owner treating xir possession. If anything she thought xe was acting a little like a cat owner.

“Well I can see why Nancy asked me to set you two up.” Murray commented, watching them swap places around Steve. “Don’t think she’s right, though.”

Steve snorted and Robin pulled a face at him, “No thanks. We’re platonic and happy that way.”

“Soulmates actually. It’s almost as strong as mine over his soul.” The Demon remarked, glancing up before nudging Steve’s arm to reach a wound more easily.

“Platonic.” Steve used moving his arm as a chance to swat at xim.

Xe chuckled, catching his wrist and gently guiding it to Robin’s shoulder. “Didn’t argue with that. You two took never leaving each other more seriously than most marriages though. Was that because of the story you just shared, or something else?”

She glanced sharply at xim, ready to scold for asking questions when they’d all agreed to leave it while Steve’s injuries were treated, but xe was looking at her, same as Steve was.

“Yes.” She replied bluntly, set on not going into more detail until Steve was fully bandaged up.

“I’m glad my boy had you there then.” Xe stated, nodding genially.

/\/\

“This house is moving around us.” Will observed.

They’d turned back from their exploration a while ago, but neither he or Eddie could figure out how to return to the original rooms. Eddie laughed at the statement. “I’m sure we’ll be found if something’s going on, right now I’m just wondering how we could use this in a campaign. Give them an unmapped place, maybe offer the players the option to draw a map as they go and see how long it takes them to realise the rooms are changing.”

“Then it would be a case of how to provide them an escape.” Will mused. “Getting in would be easy, and finding conflicts or challenges in different rooms fun, hell if we worked together as joint DM’s we could swap for each room and pull an enemy or type of room out of the hat each time but there’d need to be a reason.”

“Or an ally outside of the area that could bring them back out of it if signalled.” Eddie suggested. “Maybe someone wanting a specific treasure.”

Will huffed a little, “As long as it isn’t a rescue the village mission. Never managed to make them focus on campaigns like that.”

“Hey Will, Eddie, You want to find my old room with me?” Steve appeared in the door they’d been approaching, tugging Robin along behind him.

“We were actually just-” Will began to say but paused when Eddie held his hand up.

Looking over the paid, Eddie was sure Steve was avoiding some emotional moment while Robin thought whatever had happened was incredibly awkward. “Sure Harrington, if you know the way cause this safehouse says we don’t.”

“His demon decides who finds each other. Xe isn’t going to let Steve get lost.” Robin chimed up, nudging Steve teasingly, “Just everyone else.”

“Useful. Also his demon? The ownership thing goes both ways?” The remark was laughed after, Will snickering a little too.

Steve just rolled his eyes. “No. But apparently just talking about someone using pronouns is too boring for Robin. Xe hasn’t told me xir name so I doubt anyone else is going to learn it. What’ve you two been up to?”

“Exploring and getting lost trying to get back to you all.” Will said, gesturing around, “Then figuring out how we can make this part of a campaign.”

“Great, another time getting put into your game.” Steve sarcastically cheered. “So you pair decided to be friends then?”

Will shook his head then, “Nope, I just decided not to blame Eddie for Mike’s lies or Dustin’s hero worship. Still trying to figure out why Lucas barely mentioned him though.”

“Did you blame me when Dustin and me started hanging out?” Steve blinked, wondering how often the kids had stayed in touch since that definitely suggested the closest friends of the group had shifted while the Byers were in California.

“Nope. You didn’t separate him from us. Mike’s the one who claimed to have a grudge over that, but we all think he’s just looking for reasons to be annoyed at you.” The answer was easily given, but with an expression that said an insult was either disguised in it or a word away.

All the older teens laughed anyway, before Steve narrowed his eyes on Eddie, “This is why you need to let the kids enjoy their own hobbies. Lucas not mentioning you to Will says just as much as your reaction to the Championship Game did. Sort that out.”

“Get me to Lucas and I’ll start the apologies now.” Eddie agreed, hand on his heart and exaggerating his sincerity by kneeling. “But I’d already pledged to welcome Sir Will the Wise into Hellfire from my sheepies reports of his skill. Mayhap even declaring him heir to the DM title, although I think Jeff will be annoyed to graduate with me and miss that chance.”

Robin huffs at him, gesturing in the direction Steve had started leading them, “Then let Jeff have a go while you still lead the club. Come on, I need to know if Steve’s room is as bad here as it is in that house of his.”

“What’s wrong with my room at home?” Steve protested. “It’s clean and spacious.”

“Devoid of personality and a plaid overload.” She countered, “Tell me, was that your choice, or xir choice?”

He pouted at her, moving to sit down as they entered a living room. “Not letting you see my room now. I like the pattern. I can graph things on it and they always vanish before I’m next in there.”

“Not sure what’s worse, that you draw on your walls, or that you want guide lines to help you draw on them. Did xe start that when you were a kid?” Robin retorted.

“To make graphs a bigger size, if you must know.” Steve snarked back.

/\/\

Will hadn’t expected this when he decided to introduce himself to Eddie. He’d meant to make a sarcastic comment about the other having magic to get Mike playing DnD again and explore on his own, but the other had insisted on knowing him.

Steve was on a rant about struggling with maths but learning as much as he could of geometry after a teacher explained how it impacts basketball. Honestly it bewildered Will a little to hear the generally accepted dumbest of the party going off about angles and throw heights and just how having plaid walls helped him understand it all. A glance at Eddie and Robin suggested they were having similar thoughts before Will had to exclaim, “You can do all this but refuse to play DnD because adding a small amount to the roll of a die is too difficult?”

“Nah, I’m just bitching at Dustin when I say that. He knows I’ve played when Erica needed cheering up.” He waved the words away, “Besides, He, Mike and Lucas all got into Hellfire and aside from the entire club having great reasons to hate ‘King Steve’, I’m not giving up work shifts or dates to join a high school club.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Eddie mumbles, getting the group looking at him curiously. It was the quietest that Will had heard him.

He scoffed, “Jonathan hated him for a while and I know he wasn’t really on Steve or Tommy’s radar before I went missing. Rumour has it you’re usually making yourself the target of bullies so who did you actually hate?”

“Billy.” Simple word, but Eddie laughed a little when Steve waved a hand to tell him to continue. “Steve didn’t pay attention. He was popular because he was good as sports and everyone wanted to figure out what actually went on in his head. Tommy was a jerk and a bully, but the King? He barely looked at us all in judgement. It did my head in but wasn’t enough to be hated for, especially when Billy joined the school just wanting to fight anyone. The amount of kids that learnt they could be great at track because that boy terrified them in his first months at Hawkins High could’ve tripled the size of the club.”

“Is that why Max says she only tolerates you?” Will asked. El had mentioned it after one of the few calls they’d managed to get since the move and he’d assumed it was something to do with Lucas earlier.

Eddie fell back, hand to his chest, “The insult so harshly given. I thought we were sisters in arms, bound by the good fight, and here I am betrayed?”

“No, it’s cause of Lucas being pushed out a little from dragons club for playing Basketball, don’t tell him, only a few poorly timed insults about Billy were heard and she’s heard them from most of the party now unfortunately. The tolerating is because Eddie and Wayne help out in the trailer sometimes, have done since they moved in.” Steve explained, swatting at him.

“Steve. I forgot to mention, tell your kids to be more careful when talking to demons.” The demon was suddenly in the room with them, and Will had to push himself further onto the couch to avoid falling off when he startled. “Three of them literally just tried to demand you off me.”

Steve stared at xim for a moment, blinking and looking over to Robin, “Mike got talked into that?”

“Emotionally he was only slightly less fervent in the appeal than Dustin. Lucas at least was somewhat cautious over it.” Xe replied.

“You told them no, right? Those shitheads are not getting into some mess with you in my place.” Will blinked at the confrontational tone in Steve’s voice. When they’d been talking about how he’s owned earlier Steve had seemed resigned, almost fearful of what he could be made to do on the demon’s will but now he was ready to fight xim.

Xe laughed, shaking xir head, “Of course I rejected the idea. Humans do not treat each other correctly if ownership is mentioned and I will not have you subjected to that no matter how good their original intentions.”

/\/\

Steve hesitated, turned to the door having declared he’d get the other kids together to sort out dinner and bedrooms. It felt wrong to walk away from his owner and friends, especially after hearing what some of his kids had tried.

“Perhaps we should talk first.” Xe offered, getting a warning glare from Robin as xe moved to follow him. “You’re more anxious than normal.”

He nodded, “And you’re acting oddly.” With that he led them into the next room, not worrying over his friends listening in as xe wouldn’t allow that.

“I’m looking after you as you’re allowing, the same as I always have.” Xe stated, sitting on the floor as Steve curled into a corner of the sofa there.

He shook his head at the words. “That’s not – Don’t lie. You’re my owner. I do what you want, not this, the reverse.”

“Yes, I do own you, but what does that mean to me?” Xe asked and he folded, arms trying to hug and protect him from the question.

“I can’t know your thoughts.” He mumbled, sure that even if he’d argued and bitched at the demon before this was a dangerous time to do so.

Xe still pushed xir question, “What do you think it means to me?”

There was the feeling of an order again and Steve hated realising it hadn’t been directed at him before. “I don’t know!” He repeated, springing up. “I thought you wanted someone popular, to get deals from my friends or something, but you didn’t care about that. I thought it might be to show off, like Tommy’s parents did over expensive things, but you never do that. I’m not a slave cause you never make me do anything and it’s not company cause I barely see you for months at a time. You own me and want nothing somehow. Everyone wants something and they say demons trick and are evil but you just don’t care.” The words felt like they exploded out of him and Steve grabbed a cushion as he fell back onto the sofa to hide.

“Demons aren’t humans.” Xe replied, moving to sit next to him, resting a paw on his back. “These are all very human views of ownership. Do you want me to tell you how I view owning anything?”

A sniffle and small nod was all the response he could give. It felt odd but natural to fear his owner a little after the day he’d had and the years where his religion classes and history lessons all taught him how dangerous it could be to be owned.

“I’d describe it as being the emergency contact.” Xe began. “At least if I’m putting it in human concepts. I own you because someone else values other things over a precious life so I need to take what was a flicker and let it grow. If that’s into a flame or a forest fire that transforms the world isn’t my choice. I’m just here to enable it to happen.”

Steve watched xim warily. “You said values. My genetic donors still don’t care, do they?”

“No and I could see this when I accepted the deal.” Xe agreed. “It used to be that demons would accept deals like yours to save families. That’s where the myths came from of magical beings taking first born children in deals and how evil demons are. Some people made the opposite deals, asking for children and putting them through horrible lives and still pay for it now in torture and pain from the demons they hurt the children of. We can see intentions but they can be hidden and we can’t take the living out of the human world. For you I tried another way.”

“Have any parents wanted the sold children back?” He asked.

“Sometimes, and I do, just like most demons, check in, have the chance to amend deals if that’s the case. Usually it’s for visitation rather than parents having their kids back.” Xe shifted, form adjusting to be more jelly. “Yours never have. They’re vain and barely remember Hawkins or the pregnancy. I know they’d intended to offer you to the lab if no demon appeared for them.”

Steve didn’t reply for a moment, letting everything xe shared settle into his brain as his eyes flickered over the room. “Robin’s my emergency contact.” He eventually said, “The hospital said your information was out of date and I didn’t know what to put instead.”

“Her claim on your soul is nearly as strong as mine.” Xir voice stayed calm, trying to soothe him. “But I will add details to be a secondary emergency contact again.”

/\/\

Recognising his safehouse ceiling made Steve breathe easier after a week jerking awake, wondering if Vecna had taken anyone else. The night before he’d insisted on all the rooms for Robin, Eddie and the kids to be on the same hallway as his, getting the demon to promise it would stay that way until he woke at a minimum.

Nancy and Jonathan hadn’t re-emerged from wherever in the house they’d gone to, and Argyle had been given directions to find them when Steve levelled a glare at his owner. He would have tried keeping them near him as well, but being fairly sure xe had spoken to them about their pasts he didn’t. It might’ve ended up in an emotional confrontation when he needed to talk with his kids about how serious demonic deals were.

The adults had also been shuffled away from him, although Hopper did manage to stay long enough to call a wellbeing check in over at him. Steve had found it odd, but went along with it easily enough.

“Steve? Please say your room hasn’t moved.” Robin called, knocking on his door.

“It’s not. Xe did promise it wouldn’t. Come in.” He replied, comfortable lounging in bed for now.

She didn’t, just opening the door enough to lean around it, “Just me, or are all of us allowed in?”

“Might as well have all of you. Come make it a slumber party.”

/\/\

Steve noticed he was being watched during breakfast. It wasn’t a new feeling when everyone was together but the expressions on Hopper and Joyce’s faces were unsettling for how difficult Steve found them to read.

In the past they’d scrutinise him, waiting for him to mess up or something, and occasionally try to move their kids away from him, but none of that was happening now. If anything they seemed to be getting frustrated at each other the longer the meal went on. He kept glancing over while making sure everyone had their choice of breakfast and answering a few more questions along the way.

“Nope.” He got utterly distracted from trying to figure their expressions out as he saw Erica’s choice of breakfast was ice cream. “Actual food first, ice cream after 9:30.” He stated, barely surprised when the bowl emptied itself to show the current time. “Of course xe gave you this.” He sighed, meeting the glare now levelled at him. “I said at least halfway healthy breakfasts, Erica.”

She huffed, glancing around the table. “So if I had cereal on my ice cream?”

“I’d want there to be more cereal than ice cream in the bowl. How about pancakes and bacon instead?” He suggested.

For a moment she glared some more, but eventually nodded. “I suppose that’s acceptable.”

“Can I have pancakes too?” Dustin called out, too loud for being a seat away from them and getting the other kids, except El, to start agreeing.

Steve just laughed, nodding at them and turning to the adults. “Murray, do you and Dimitri want including in the pancake orders? Joyce? Hopper?”

“Oh I can do that Steve.” Joyce offered, standing as Murray translated the question and seemingly a lot more for the Russian.

“No! Mum, no need. If Steve needs a hand cooking, we’ve got this, right?” Jonathan interceded before steve could react, tapping Will’s shoulder and getting an agreement from him too.

For a moment, Steve looked between the family, grinning at the out of place reactions. “Thanks for the offer, Joyce, but you’re our guests. I’m not making you cook and am happy to do it.”

‘And we want edible pancakes.’ Will mouthed, not visible to the adults further along the table.

“Looks like the kid has this, Joyce. I’ll have pancakes if that’s okay.” Hopper said, tugging Joyce’s arm to get her to sit down again. “If this is a shifting labyrinth of rooms, where’s the food coming from?”

Steve shrugged, already pulling ingredients out of the cupboards, “Xe buys it whenever we stay here. I usually get taken with xim, but I think xe went as we slept.” He explained. He hadn’t seen the demon yet that morning but knew xe had been around while he gathered the party together.

/\/\

After everyone separating to explore or talk the day before Xe was surprised that they were staying together through the morning. Xe was less surprised to see Steve surrounded by his kids, with Eddie and Robin pulled into the group as well.

“No one trying to escape today?” Xe asked, joining the group and looking around at everyone more spread through the room.

“We’re planning how to clear Eddie’s name from the accusations.” Dustin said, barely glancing up from a notebook they were using to plan.

Xe laughed, shaking xir head, “Not needed. He spent that night teaching Steve guitar and stayed over. Since then you brats have kept him busy stopping you from trying to do the police’s job. Given that bunch of monkey’s can’t prevent an angry mob from forming, it was for the best.”

Steve groaned, holding a hand out for the guitar he knew would appear, while the rest had to scramble out of the way of other instruments appearing. “I think I’d prefer orders over this.”

“You wouldn’t and I won’t use them.” Xe reaffirmed. “They aren’t going to expect you to play to prove his alibi.”

“Wish they weren’t idiotic enough that I can’t believe that.” He grumbled, but looked at Eddie curiously. “Are you alright doing this?”

Eddie had leant back, blinking, barely even adjusting how he sat when his own guitar appeared in his lap. Slowly he picked it up, looking Steve over. “Sure Big boy. I’ll have you shredding in no time.”

/\/\

With the guitar in his lap, Steve thought about taking off, insisting on learning without an audience but decided against it. When he’d led Robin, Will and Eddie back to the group the night before Mike and Dustin had complained about being replaced again and he wasn’t going to let feelings like that grow if learning around everyone could stop it.

He was just looking from Eddie to the guitar, wondering if he should ask something to start when Mike came to sit closer to him.

“Can I learn too?” Mike demanded more than asked. “I want to play good music though.”

Eddie and Steve exchanged a glance before Eddie turned to him, “What’s with the emphasis on good music, Little Wheeler? You’re not getting far enough to play any songs today, anyway.” He leant forwards, eyes focused and promising offence would be easily taken.

“Like you play, not Steve.” He stated, matching the look. “No whining singers, either.” Max scoffed from her seat a little ways off, but didn’t say anything.

Steve huffed, “Judgemental shit, glad you weren’t the one trying to save Hawkins. How about Eddie shows us how to hold the guitar, first?”

He got a nod in return, and immediately Eddie started instructing them, barely acknowledging when another guitar, acoustic this time, appeared beside Mike for him to use. There were still other instruments around the room, but nobody moved to use them, and only claimed one if they knew how to play it, like Robin claiming hers.

/\/\

Lucas sighed after a while of everyone watching the guitar lesson, “So how do you decide which hobbies are cool and which aren’t?”

“Go with the chillest and you’re on the right track.” Argyle called, leaning back with Jonathan nodding beside him.

Max shook her head. “It’s the rebellion, the energy about it.” She countered.

Steve rolled his eyes, moving the guitar to one side as the conversation distracted him. “You shouldn’t. All hobbies are both cool and nerdy depending on how interested we are. In high school, the ones most people are interested in, or pushed to be, become cool, like basketball. In this group, a lot of you mostly the weird kids at school, DnD becomes cool. It’s just a popularity contest for activities.”

“How much of that was Robin and how much your way to delude yourself you’re still cool?” Mike sneered, getting a sharp glance.

“Some of it was things I wanted to yell at half of you shitheads when I saw nobody but me there supporting Lucas in the championship game.” He snapped back. “What happened to not splitting the party and supporting each other, huh, Mike?”

Mike blustered and so did Dustin, “We tried to reschedule! To postpone or something. Eddie wouldn’t let us.”

“And I was wrong not to. I’d spent too many years in that melting pot taking on the bullies to shield others that I did the same thing the jocks do and tried to make Lucas give up something for our club.” Eddie spoke up before more of an argument could start. “Steve’s right, we should have supported him, “He turned to Lucas now, “And I’m sorry for my part in stopping that, as well as how I’ve treated you over the laundry baskets game.”

Lucas took the offered hand then, a cautiousness in his eyes, “In full apology you need to try shooting some hoops with me when we get back.”

Eddie laughed outright, “Damn it Sinclair, making me exercise, but your condition is agreed too.”

The exchange reminded Steve of a room he’d asked for on his last visit so he slipped off, waiting in the doorway when he saw Dustin had spotted and was trying to follow.

/\/\

“So where are we going?” Dustin asked after the third room they went through.

Steve smirked over his shoulder, “Basketball court. I asked for one the last time I was here.”

“Really? Actually how can basketball be nerdy? That makes no sense. It’s for the jocks.” Dustin was excited though Steve knew he had no enthusiasm for exercise.

“Ask Will. Apparently I complain over the math of DnD too much to have tried so hard to learn geometry for basketball.” He snickered

Dustin hesitated then, “You’re not mad at me over how I reacted when we got here, right?”

The question confused Steve for a moment, before he realised that he hadn’t actually had one on one time with Dustin since they’d arrived so of course he friend would be worrying. “Not at all. I knew you’d have questions. It was just a lot for me when everyone expected me to know the most and I really don’t.”

“Okay,” He nodded, “Now teach me this basketball math you somehow do.”

They laughed together when the next door did bring them to the court.

/\/\

They’d been in the safehouse for only two days when the Demon said xe could return them to Hawkins. The days had been filled with catching up, comforting each other over new and old traumas as well as everyone trying to learn more about Steve.

Steve had found himself having in depth conversations with everyone, which he’d expected for the kids. He hadn’t expected it so much with the adults and other teens near his age and assumed that his owner was the cause or inspiration for them all trying to actually know him. The oddest of the conversations had been Murray giving him advice over how little was noticed about relationships by people both outside and inside them, but it was a nice change compared to most of the group dismissing comments about that as useless gossip.

The relief of hearing they could return to Hawkins was cut through by Hopper asking, “Do you mean all of us are going back to Hawkins?” He’d looked from the Demon, to El, the Byers and Argyle.

Xe looked at him in amusement, “Would you prefer to be returned to where I took you from?”

“No.” A deep frown etched itself across Hoppers face, “But California to officially move back with the Byers would be more reasonable.”

“I want to go home again!” El protested, “It’s too hot there!”

A cacophony of requests and protests broke out then, everyone having some view of where they’d either be needed, wanted or expected to be, until Steve clapped twice, getting everyone’s attention.

“The kids coming back to Hawkins, I’ll look after, whether that’s telling frantic parents where you’ve been or having you stay with me, I’ll sort it out. Murray is best at sorting out the press from what I hear, so I want him to come back to Hawkins too. The rest of you are old enough to sort this out quietly! Without arguing. Discuss and decide.”

“Or I will drop Steve and the youngest at home and everyone else close to where I found them.” Xe agreed, serious in tone but Steve could see xe was teasing them all.

At those words, Joyce and Hopper moved to talk in a corner while Nancy left her argument with Mike to talk with Jonathan and Argyle.

“That invite to stay include me, Sunshine?” Eddie asked, nudging Steve with his elbow.

“Not sure I was planning to let you leave if you tried.” Steve replied. “Staying in murder houses isn’t fun.”

It looked like Eddie would ask more but Nancy called him over then, “Steve! How well can you sweet talk my parents.”

“Depends, are you about to make me explain your disappearance to Cali and Mike’s appearance back in Hawkins?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The trio gave him sheepish looks and he muttered under his breath while walking over. The stories he’d have to share would either get more complicated than a spiders web or need to basically just be reading parents into what they’d been dealing with for years.

/\/\

In the end, Murray and Dimitri joined Steve, Eddie, Robin and all the kids in going back to Hawkins, while Argyle, Jonathan, Nancy, Joyce and Hopper went to California. It made sense to ensure the California house was sorted and any issues there cleared up but Steve was now worried over how Dustin’s mum and the Sinclair’s parents were reacting since the kids had all been missing so far as they knew for days, right after murders had happened.

Erica was also thinking about that and tried to demand a lift home as soon as they were dropped back into Steve’s home.

“No. I’m calling everyone’s parents, and Eddie’s uncle to come here. One explanation for all of them.” He decided. “Get drinks, snacks, and Erica, find somewhere to stash that bowl of yours too.”

He did call the Sinclair’s first, knowing better than to argue with Erica’s glare too much.

Something in him withered when Mrs Sinclair answered the phone with “Lucas? Please say that’s you.” She sounded frantic.

“It’s Steve Harrington actually, but-” He hurried to continue hearing a sob, “Lucas and Erica are with me. I’ll explain everything if you come over. A couple of Lucas’s friends also need their parents calling so-”

“We’ll be right there!” She promised, cutting him off and hanging up, already yelling “Honey! Steve-”

The call to Claudia went similarly, but Steve was sure the last two would be odd. That was why he easily let Robin take the phone. Her call was quick and basically left her parents even more convinced they were dating than they had been. Steve shook his head when Dustin heard it and was clearly about to ask if they were together now. The Buckley’s were the only ones that belief was allowed for at Robin’s request.

Then he was being given the phone back and dialling the number Eddie had given him to put off talking to either Wheeler parent a little longer.

“Who’s this?” A gruff voice answered, “And why are you calling the factory?”

“This is Steve Harrington and I’m trying to get in touch with Mr Wayne Munson.” He put on the overly polite tone his mother used for staff in shops.

He got huffed at before hearing a yell away from the phone for Wayne. There was a thud as if the phone had been walked away from and Steve could only wait, hoping Wayne was where Eddie expected him to be.

“Hello, why was I told a Harrington is calling for me?” The question made him wince, knowing nothing good was likely said about him before.

Eddie shoved a note under his nose. “What?” Steve asked aloud before shaking his head and just reading it; “Letting you know the Garfield Mug will get repaired.”

“Eddie only just told you to say that, didn’t he?” Wayne sounded thoughtful, “Insisted on a code to say someone is safe but always forgets it.”

“Shoved the note in front of me without saying anything.” Steve grumbled. “But we’ve been helping him since, well since Spring break started. He’s gonna stay with me for a bit but I’ve got to explain everything to a few others soon if you want to come see him and learn what’s been going on.”

Wayne let out a noise, enough to know he’d been heard, and, Steve guessed, thought for a moment, “He’s got info about Eddie beyond the pigs backtracking. I’m taking off.” Wayne called, the volume of it startling Steve as the phone clearly wasn’t moved when he yelled. “You’re in the fancy district. Which car should I look for?”

“BMW.” Steve replied, amused that that was how Wayne planned to find his home.

“I’ll be there soon.”

Steve took a deep breath as he hung up, closing his eyes for a moment only to meet Mike’s expectant glare when he reopened them.

“Are you going to call my parents or not?”

He narrowed his eyes, “I could just make you call them, see how well you explain anything to Karen.”

“Like that’d be hard.” Mike huffed, getting Steve to turn back to the phone with a roll of his eyes.

Half dreading the call, Steve dialled and soon had the call answered, “Hello Wheeler household. This is Karen.”

“Hi Karen, how are you?” He began, trying to delay explaining the mess, given neither Wheeler kid wanted their family to know what was going on.

“Steve, I’m wondering where Nancy is. I know she was dating Jonathan Byers the last I was told but have you gotten back together and stolen her away?” Karen asked, half teasing as she clearly tried to bury her concern.

Steve laughed a little, “No, but she is with Jonathan, and that’s her location too. There’s been some drama with her relationship and Mike’s friend group so Mike has come back to Hawkins early, while Nancy has gone to talk with Jonathan something about college I think but I’m not sure.”

“She’s driven there? Are you sure she’s fine.” Karen sounded alarmed now, “And how did Mike get back?”

“One of my relatives helped them sort out travel and they’re both fine. I checked in with Nancy just over an hour ago and have Mike glaring at me currently. I’m returning him as soon as I’ve got some other stuff sorted, okay?”

Karen laughed lightly, “That’s fine, I know you’ll keep him safe, but tell him no more changing travel plans without telling me beforehand.”

“I will. See you later.” Steve hung up, leaning against the wall, amazed that had been so easy to do.

/\/\

In the end, nobodies parents were fully told about the Upside Down. Steve did start to, but the conversation got side tracked so the most Claudia and the Sinclairs knew was that the Lab had caused everything and the government was involved in them not being told. He almost felt guilty but Lucas and Dustin seemed happier with that happening.

Robin was still getting judgemental looks from Lucas after admitting she was the one to get Erica involved but let Steve shoulder the ice cream deal mostly. Both she and Steve were amused by that and definitely relaxed as those kids headed home.

Wayne had listened to the explanation but didn’t make any move to leave as the kids did, sharing a glance, Steve took Robin, El and Will with him to drop Mike off. “You tell him anything you want. Nobody has got involved here yet, so do it now.” Steve reassured, last one to leave the house deliberately so he could.

He only hoped Eddie did actually inform Wayne of it all, since they seemed really close.

/\/\

Since El had mentioned getting help to get her powers back, Steve had expected the government to get involved, even if he doubted Hawkins had really had enough happen to get that attention. What he didn’t expect was his owner to walk into Family Video halfway through his and Robin’s shift, looking every bit the business man Hawkins assumed his parents were, and plant himself behind the counter with him.

After that he wasn’t surprised to see the black cars of government officials coming in, or Doctor Owens coming into the store with someone else wearing a doctors coat beside him.

“Excuse me, people who torture children are not welcome in Hawkins.” Xe spoke before either worker could give their normal greeting.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Doctor Owens replied, “I’m just here to talk with Mr Harrington and Mrs Buckley about their absences over the last week.”

They both scoffed, “That would be Keith’s job and in his words, ‘Shutting the store for a mourning period was a great publicity move.’” Robin countered, “And Family Video has no need of Medical Doctor’s when we rent videos to people.”

“You’re not discussing anything with my son when I am here to represent and protect him.” Xe followed her words with an unmoving stare. “Now, Brennan, if you don’t wish to experience the tortures you’ve put others through yourself, you should leave Hawkins immediately. I’ve cleaned up the hell you tried bringing here and your favourite kid is dead. Henry Creel tried to steal part of hell and is paying for that forever more.”

Brennan tried to meet his glare and Steve could only assume this was El’s papa. After a moment of that he turned and left, waiting in the car as Doctor Owens was still there.

“I don’t know what your son has been telling you but-” Doctor Owens began to say, only to fall silent though his lips still moved.

Xe glanced back at Steve. “He told me nothing until I was charging through a land that definitely wasn’t Earth to save his life and that of his friends. What I’ve learned since then says you’ve been giving less than the bare minimum to everyone plagued by your failures and the governments inability to treat people humanely.”

“You want to negotiate?” Doctor Owens asked, clearly uncertain over what was happening.

The demon’s grin was like an alligator shining his teeth as xe nodded, “For everyone involved, from my boy, to the Munsons and even to the emancipated Chief soon moving back after being captured by Russians. You are going to compensate them all into wealth for the amount of trauma and pain you’ve heaped on them. Would you like the demands now, or after all of Hawkins knows what the abandoned lab used to do?”

He looked at xem in horror, never doubting the xe could manage that, then out through the doors. “Now, and I will do all I can to get them agreed to.”

“If you don’t, the world will know just how cruel America was before Russia even dreamt of it.” Xe vowed.

As the door closed behind Doctor Owens Steve and Robin started snickering, “Steve, your owner is brilliant.”

“Apparently!”

Xe smiled at them, shaking xir head, “Thank you. I’m keeping an eye on you for a while until I know this is as safe as it used to be again.” Xe informed them.

/\/\

“So, Demons! Can I ask more questions now?” Dustin had been holding a notebook even as he got into the car, watching Steve expectantly.

He shook his head, “Surprised it took you this long.” He admitted, before sharply looking over, “And if I ever hear of you trying to deal with demons even after I’ve answered whatever questions you’ve got, your ass is grass.” He pulled off, taking Dustin to the arcade where Eddie and Mike should be meeting them.

In the back of the car El and Will were sitting quietly, happy to just listen to them.

“Xe told you?” Dustin pouted for a moment before looking at his notebook, “So does xe only have that bipedal but with horns and claws form?”

“Xe changes and chooses xir form based on what’s happening and how xir feeling. No, I don’t know if all demons can do that.” Steve guessed the second question and decided to stop that possibly getting repeated a lot from the start. “I’ve not met any other demons so can’t say anything about them, just the one that owns me.”

Dustin nodded, crossing out a few questions and writing a note, presumably of that lack of knowledge. “Have you been to hell? Other than the Upside Down?”

Steve shrugged, glancing over as the road was quiet. “Again, I don’t know. Xe moved us to the safehouse so do you know where that is? But I don’t think so. Xe is pretty closed off about things that might risk me or just some information about xem.”

“Did xe know about everything else we’ve been through?” El asked, looking calm when Steve glanced in the rear-view mirror at her. He was just pulling up to the arcade now and wasn’t going to leave Max waiting for a ton more questions to get asked.

“No. Xe hasn’t shown up for the others and hadn’t realised what I’d gotten into. Apparently other humans xe owned had some bad injuries over their lives too.” He answered, “No more questions when you could be attempting to beat Max’s scores again.”

/\/\

They’d been back in Hawkins a day when they heard the roar again but Steve didn’t drop, ignoring the clear order and everything in him wanting to.

Jason and the rest of the current basketball team did stumble back however, staring in fear over his shoulder.

Lucas hadn’t faltered either, solidifying his stance and bringing his slingshot out of his pocket to aim at his teammates. “Eddie is innocent. No devil worship is done in a game. It’s done by hate-filled bastards like you, thinking you’re owed more than you’ve earnt.” He spat.

“Tell that to the demon you summoned.” Jason stuttered back, a shaking hand raising to point over their shoulders.

“Oh no, Xe’re here because you attacked me and xe’re keeping a closer watch currently.” Steve straightened from his defensive stance, rolling his eyes, even while sidestepping so the demon could pass. “It’s really dumb to attack a demon’s property, you know.”

Jason looked angrier for a moment, seeming to judge if he’d get past Steve, Lucas and the demon to Eddie again. “They already sold you! You call that innocent Sinclair?”

“My boy has been mine since the 60’s and you are already due for hell.” Xe growled out, startling Lucas as he moved past them with many limbs and spikes on xir current form. “I’ll escort you there.”

Steve couldn’t tell if it was xir words or xir lunge towards the boys that had them sprinting away, and didn’t care much, the fact he’d ignored the order weighing on him the further they went. “Sorry I didn’t drop out of the way but I wasn’t letting them past me.”

Xe huffed. “My roar doesn’t mean get down or drop. It means don’t block me.” Xe grumbled. “Go get your injuries checked.”

“Are you doing this so I can learn when something’s an order? ‘Cause I’ve got that figured out now.” Steve muttered, going to his car where the door was still open from him jumping out to help Lucas fighting the club back from Eddie.

Xe nodded, “Yes, you’ve torn yourself apart looking for them too much and I’m not getting Robin on my case again.”

“Why would Robin do that?” Lucas asked, giving Steve a chance to actually make the call on his walkie. He’d moved to help Eddie up who had dropped upon hearing the roar, though since he’d been the target Steve wasn’t sure if an injury from before he and Lucas had gotten the attention from him influenced that reaction.

“Very protective friend.” Xe answered, eyes narrowed as xe checked the area one more time. “Very protective and too ready to fight me.” As soon as Xe finished speaking Xe was gone.

Steve shook his car keys to get Eddie and Lucas’s attention from the now empty space. “Come on, Robs has the Family Video first aid kit waiting for us.”

/\/\

A month after their return had everyone back in Hawkins, even Steve’s owner hadn’t fully left yet. Most of Hawkins had accepted Eddie’s innocence now, although some of the basketball team still tried to start fights occasionally.

Steve was worried still, since he had expected the Demon to leave after dealing with the government, but xe hadn’t. “So are you just staying in Hawkins now?” He had to ask eventually.

Eddie and Wayne were in the kitchen but he’d wandered out to the pool, knowing xe would be there too. Xe knew when conversations were needed and Steve never bothered to ask how, perhaps one of the more curious or confrontational of the party had done, but that wasn’t his concern.

“No, I’m not staying for much longer.” Xe replied, but tugged him to sit beside xim.

“So what happens then? Do I just carry on with Robin as my emergency contact?” Steve had to ask. He’d learnt enough about his owner now that he doubted xir detachment; he just didn’t know how xe could remain updated with what happened around him now.

Xe looked through him for a moment. “Now you live. Carry on doing your best to look after this family you made and be happy.”

“And never seeing you unless you decide to visit?” He challenged. It had been nice letting someone else be in charge of his wellbeing even in the small ways xe did.

“That is an option, but there are others you might prefer.” Xir lap suddenly held a variety of objects, including a crystal ball, a plain notebook and a phone handset.

Steve looked over the items, brow furrowed for a moment, “Are you saying these are ways I could call you?”

“The notebook I’d need to refine and then anyone who wrote in it would be contacting me. The other two I can ensure are set up for you to contact me, the phone already is really since I am your secondary emergency contact once more.” Xe explained, handing the notebook over when Steve reached for it.

“Is that only for important stuff? Not just letting you know things happening.” He checked.

Xe shook xir head, “It’s for anything you want to tell me, but definitely if off shoots of hell are formed again.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked, stunnd that it was this easy to get a way to contact his demon. “Thank you. Um, Did I disappoint you? Doing all that stuff I thought you were telling me to?” The thought had grown since he’d heard how xe viewed this ownership situation, and if xe was talking candidly with him it seemed like a good time to ask.

“No, I understood it. This isn’t a situation humans can explain, even in their stories, so I knew there’d be some confusion as you grew up. I just didn’t think it would upset you so much otherwise I’d have spoken about it with you sooner.” Xe spoke gently, patting Steve’s shoulder. “Now you can go on living your life just getting in touch when you want to without worrying over orders it’s unlikely I’ll ever give you again.”

“Unless I’m in another life or death situation.” Steve finished wryly.

Xe laughed, “Unless that happens, yes.”

/\/\

After xe left, Steve found it easier to return to daily life than he had so far following Upside Down instances, easily accepting the Munson’s into his home while the investigation of Chrissy’s death was finished and their payouts sorted. Xe had told Steve xir demands of compensation so he would report back how much ended up being offered since that hadn’t yet been finalised.

“You really saved me, you know.” Eddie commented slouched on Steve’s sofa while Steve and Robin messed around in the kitchen supposedly sorting out dinner and drinks for their hang out. “This town would’ve killed me if it wasn’t for you and your demon.”

“Xe isn’t mine, just my owner.” Steve laughed, “And of course we were gonna help. Dustin alone would have been insufferable if we hadn’t.”

Robin laughed too, “Yeah, that boy can get Steve to do anything he wants, I swear. Have you seen their secret handshake yet?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Dustin put a stop to that before he started high school, apparently it’s too childish to keep doing.”

“Damn, sounds like it would’ve been revolutionary to see. King Steve doing a dorky handshake.” Eddie teased.

“As if the pats and slaps the basketball team does are any different. Dustin’s was just more fun.” Steve huffed, “Are we gossiping over how we got each other through that shit or going to watch a film?”

Eddie grinned at him, shaking his head, “I’ve got stuff to say first.”

Steve gestured around the room, “Then the floor is yours, what do you want to share.”

“My gratitude, yes to Robin as well, but mostly to you. You might not have been the most willing to help from the start but you did anyway, and you did everything you could to keep me feeling okay. You’re worlds better than I ever imagined you could be and then when you could have just dropped me off home you not only let me stay but got Wayne to as well. And it’s wonderful.” Eddie had stood and faced Steve as if he was actually making a speech or a toast at a wedding. “If I was better at cooking I’d offer to make you dinner every night, but instead, let me take you out to dinner soon, Enzo’s maybe, to thank you for all you’ve done.”

Robin gasped at the offer, hands shooting up to cover her mouth and Steve raised an eyebrow at that, before running Eddie’s words through his mind again.

“I’ll agree either way, but is that just a thank you dinner or is it a date, Munson?” He asked, watching Eddie’s expression carefully.

He flushed a little, hand going to tug his hair in front of his face, “So it’s okay for it to be a date? Really?”

“I’m saying now, I’ve never dated a guy before, but you are hot.” Steve cautioned, knowing from some of Robin’s rants that it was better to be honest about that, “So long as you don’t mind that I’ve got that shit to figure out still, then we can try a date.”

Eddie didn’t react for a moment, but Robin did, launching herself at him for a hug. “I’m not alone, Steve! Dingus! I’m not alone here!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Guess not,” He laughed, “And I still say you should do exactly what Eddie just did and ask Vickie out!”

“You said yes!” Eddie blinked back into the room, latching onto Steve’s other side. “I get to date you! I’ll make it a great evening!”

With that promise made, Steve grinned but nodded at their seats. “You do that, we can sort out when tomorrow, now, I need to get food out of the oven and you can get the movie put in.”

/\/\

Three months after Steve’s Demon had closed the Upside Down and got the government to given them far more than they’d need to live comfortably for the rest of their lives, the Party decided to have a celebratory dinner. Steve offered to host it since even with the payouts he had the biggest home still.

Hopper and Joyce had insisted on being the actual hosts despite the location and with Jonathan and Murray’s help managed to get the dinner made and dining room set for everyone to be able to fit in.

Before they began to eat, Hopper stood, “Yep, this is fake formal but seriously, lets toast to Steve’s Demon. Xe has better morals than too much of humanity and all of the government. Here’s to xem!”

Everyone laughed as they reached up and down the table trying to clink all their glasses together. “To Steve’s demon.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #demon owned steve harrington #demon deals #the party stranger things #erica sinclair

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