#i don't know how we managed this but i do find it amusing

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Could you do the Diamond sisters spilling Cater’s embarrassing childhood stories to his friends (either the other Heartslabyuls or the Pop Music Club)? I like to imagine the first thing they would do is wreak havoc on Cater’s carefully crafted persona, intentional or not.

Decided to combine these all and do headcanons instead of an interaction due to the high number of characters (Heartslabyul + Lilia and Kalim, Cater's clubmates)!

Please note that we don't know exactly how old Cater's sisters are, but here I'm headcanoning them as being only a few years older than Cater.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Oh, the Diamond sisters LOVE Riddle. They hang all over him and squeal about how cute he is, much to his dismay. He’s not used to this much… open affection. It makes him feel weird!

He clears his throat several times and tries to remind them that he is not a boy, he is a young man, and he would appreciate it if they treated him as such. It’s a useless effort anyway—his words fall on deaf ears.

The Diamond sisters love it even more when he gets all red in the face. “Aw, he’s like a little strawberry,” they gush, not realizing that Riddle is this close to snapping and flying into a rage-filled frenzy. (His dorm members marvel at him actually exercising his limited patience; they placed bets with one another to see how long Riddle's temper can hold out for.)

He doesn’t much care for hearing stories from the Diamonds, finding them very frivolous. What’s with this family’s obsession with aesthetics? Riddle wonders. Why don’t they dedicate their time to more worthwhile pursuits like academics? And yet… why does his chest thud with a dull pain when he thinks about Cater in a large, empty house, packing up his life away into cardboard boxes?

The Diamond sisters are all over Trey too—but for completely different reasons than they were with Riddle. They drone on and on about how Trey is “husband material” and needlessly feel up his (beefy) arms, cooing and fluttering their lashes at him.

Trey awkwardly laughs off their jokes and shies away from their touch as politely as he can, making it clear he isn’t interested. He tries to deflect by changing the subject or offering tea and cakes and, if worse comes to worse, asks Cater for a save. (… Unfortunately, this makes the Diamond sisters think he’s playing “hard to get”.)

Trey actually likes hearing stories about Cater’s childhood; clearly, Cater won’t be this open with others himself, so getting this lore from his sisters is Trey’s second best option. Back then, Cater seemed so real and so vulnerable. Mask entirely off. Trey only wishes that Cater could be this unguarded with him in present day.

He has to admit, it’s amusing how flustered Cater gets trying to act unfazed or to play off his most embarrassing moments. Little by little, Trey feels as though the Diamond sisters are whittling away at his peer’s facade. He can’t help but be a little mean about it, taking this opportunity to join the Diamond sisters in teasing Cater. “So that’s what you were like, huh…”

He thinks he’s hot stuff, he could toootally bag Cater’s sisters—just watch him! … And so Ace slicks back his hair and tries his darndest to flirt with them, but to no avail. (The mob students make fun of him for having no rizz, but he defends himself by going, “L-Like you guys could do any better!!”) Man, he’s so jealous of Trey! How come he’s such a chick magnet even though he’s not even actively trying?!

The Diamond sisters wrinkle their noses at him and whisper to one another about how Ace is sooo annoying and cringefail. Think like… mean girls gossiping about you to your face. Real blow to Ace’s ego here.

Though the flirting doesn’t work out, Ace did initially manage to dazzle the girls with a few of his card tricks. The Diamond sisters clap their hands and demand that he “do it again” or tell them how the trick is done. He’d just cheekily wink and say, “Sorry, ladies! I never give away my secrets.”

There’s tea about Cater-senpai’s childhood? Ace is one of the first in line to hear about it!! He’ll memorize the stories and reenact them (including a falsetto voice for young Cater) for the entire dorm later, earning him Cater’s ire. “Ne, Ace-chan~ Don’t you think you’re bullying poor old Cay-kun too hard?”

As the man of the household, Deuce is usually helping out his mom or the other older ladies in the neighborhood, so he thinks it’s only appropriate to maintain that formal, upright behavior when addressing Cater’s sisters! This leads to Deuce calling both of them “ma’am” very loudly, which attracts stares from everyone 💀

The Diamond sisters wail about the whole “ma’am” thing. Like, just what is Deuce insinuating about their ages?! Do they look that old to him?! Is he saying he think they’re hags?! He hurriedly assures them he doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s meant to be respectful (but in the process, he accidentally calls them “ma’am” again and reignites their shrieking).

Appalled by Ace's attempts to flirt with the Diamond sisters, insisting that Ace should "be more of a gentleman, like Clover-senpai!" (He's dense and not fully aware of how uncomfortable Trey is with the circumstances.)

Deuce profusely apologizes to Cater for “hearing something he shouldn’t have” (ie his embarrassing childhood stories). He promises that he’ll act like he didn’t hear anything at all! He wears it on his life!! (This doesn't reassure Cater in the slightest. "Eeeeh, the more Deuce-chan says it, the more concerned I get!")

If there's one thing the Diamond sisters love as much as cute things, it's clout! They fawn over Kalim--well, more specifically, his family's wealth and status. (Some might even call it ass kissing.) Kalim's pretty oblivious to it, though. He thinks Cater's sisters are just being friendly with him, so he's friendly right back to them!

The Diamond sisters start to chatter about all these luxurious items they've been ogling. Designer shoes, haute couture dresses, jewelry heavy with gemstones... Kalim very nearly indulges the Diamond sisters by offering to buy those things for them (as "gifts to commemorate their new friendship"), but Cater cuts in to stop him!! "K-Kalim-kun, put away your wallet! The last thing I need right now is Jamil-kun after my neck!"

Kalim's just as bad as the Diamond sisters when it comes to spilling the beans on Cater. While the Diamond sisters yammer on about little baby Cater's missteps, Kalim tells them about the dumb stuff he and Cater get up to in club! They take turns trading stories and dunking on the poor guy...

But the difference between the Diamond sisters and Kalim? Kalim actually puts a positive spin on many of his tales. No matter how bad a show goes or how big the screw up... "All that matters is that we were in it together and had fun doing it. Cater's great at coming up with creative ideas. It makes me really happy to be able to call him my friend and band mate!"

The complete opposite of Riddle. Lilia adores being told he's cute. In fact, he encourages the Diamond sisters to "keep the compliments coming", because adorable things should be seen and adored! (Riddle huffs; Lilia is so shameless about all of this, especially as an upperclassman!)

He gets super into talking with the Diamond sisters about fashion, hair, and even nail polish colors. Lilia mentions some of his favorite and goes on a long spiel about how fashion trends have evolved over the years, and even gets into giving tips and tricks to the Diamonds. Cater's impressed with how smoothly Lilia's handling his sisters!

Lilia listens attentively as the Diamond sisters share their best (worst) stories about little Cater. He coos and chuckles at how cute Cater was "as a wee lad" and pitches in with stories about his own child, phrasing it as though Silver was someone he babysat frequently rather than his own son to avoid confusing the sisters. They murmur approvingly--not only is Lilia inventive and fashion-forward, but he's also great with children!

The Diamond sisters decide that Lilia is their new bestie and exchange numbers with him. He later lets his online buddy, Gloomurai, know about how he got the numbers of two hot women, which Gloomurai pops off about. "gg man ur rizz is INSANE." (Idia can't believe that a single father like Crimson Muscle still has mad game like this!)

BONUS: Some of the Diamond sisters' stories!

(P.S. If you like Cater + Cinderella stuff, you should check out this Cinderella retelling featuring Twst characters ;9)

Apparently, Cater used to talk to the rats and birds before he got a phone (not that he understood them at that age). After moving around so much as a kid, it became difficult for him to make friends with the local children so he'd practice his personas on the vermin in the community.

Once, they were playing dress-up together using their mother's wardrobe and makeup drawer... but they started fighting over some things that Cater was wearing, and his sisters ended up tearing the dress they wanted into rags, as well as snapping many pieces of jewelry. Everyone got scolded and punished that day, even little Cater, who hadn't done anything wrong.

He didn't like lentils as a kid so he'd pretend to trip and fall, spilling them into the ashes in the fireplace. Cater would have to pick all of them out by hand, but the chore was honestly preferable to eating them.

They used to play a game where they'd try to balance various stuff on their heads while walking. Normally it was various numbers of books--seeing who could stack the most--but once Cater tried a tray with a teapot and cups on it. That... didn't go so well.

Cater liked to pretend he was a celebrity! He'd bounce around singing with his hairbrush as a microphone or act like he was MCing for a ball. He would sing a lot as he scrubbed the floors too, popping soap bubbles as he did so.

[grinsgrimmy]

Hi! This is my first time ever requesting anything so sorry if this is bad. 😣😣

Can you do a Izek van omertà from how to win my husband over? (I love him so much 😭) Like we’re Ruby’s younger sister, we go to visit her, and while we’re there we get to know Izek. Can this also be platonic? Please and thank you! I love your work as well! ☺️

Ｌ Ｉ Ｔ Ｔ Ｌ Ｅ Ｓ Ｉ Ｓ Ｔ Ｅ Ｒ .

ㅤᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖨𝖲𝖪𝖤 𝖵𝖠𝖭 𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖱𝖳𝖠 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖠𝖥𝖠𝖡!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

HOW TO GET MY HUSBAND ON MY SIDE

๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 drabble . (1013 words)

sum. ruby's little sister decided to visit her one day, only to judge iske platonic

note : thank you for the request and nice words, anonie!! my first platonic fic, so idk if i did well but i tried! i also tried my best to write beyond just meeting iske so im REALLY REALLY sorry for changing the prompt. i wish i can write more but this is suppose to be a drabble, so i had to shorten the ending...

drabble request slots

ㅤ⪩⪨ m.list

“ruby, i don't like him.”

you muttered under your breath almost immediately after stepping out of your carriage, greeted by your sister and her imposing husband.

it had not been a minute, but you were absolutely certain that you did not like duke iske van omerta.

ruby's eyes widened, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flashing across her face as she glanced at iske, who stood baffled by your blunt words, but his expression remained unreadable (much to your annoyance).

ruby let out a nervous laugh, pulling you to her to give a quick hug. “you little—! you just got here,” she whispered sharply, her wobbly, embarrassed smile betraying her amusement. “you haven't even talked to him, and you already decided that he's the bad guy.”

“he looks mean.” you glanced up at the towering man with an icy glare of your own as you furrowed your brows, “and kind of ugly.” you could hear the screech of disbelief from ruby when those words left your mouth.

you yelped as ruby pulled you to her, as she covered your mouth with her hand. ruby gave a nervous and apologetic grin to iske, “she doesn't mean it! she's just tired from the journey—”

you struggled, attempting to protest against ruby's words, “no i'm not he's— mmph!” ruby's grip on your mouth tightened, keeping her stilling grin.

“she doesn't mean it!”

iske's eyes narrowed slightly, his bewilderment shifting to something more unreadable. iske did not know whether to be offended or stunned by the audacity of ruby's sister. 

he could not exactly be angry since, well, you are ruby's sister.

iske was quite confident about himself as a duke and commander, who often instilled fear and rumors— however, being called mean and ugly by his wife's teenage sister was certainly a humbling experience.

though he did not show it, he was genuinely bothered by it.

iske raised a brow, folding his arms across his chest. “does she always introduce herself like this?” ruby let out another nervous laugh, still holding your mouth shut, “oh, she's usually much, much worse.”

“am not!” you managed to squeak out as you wriggled free from her grasps. as you stumbled on your steps, you quickly jabbed a finger to iske, “i'm being honest! you look scary! why does ruby always sing praises about yo— ow! ruby!”

despite iske's stoic demeanour while watching the exchange between ruby and her sister, something about your words seemed to pierce through iske's unshakeable confidence. his stature had stiffened since you called him ugly, and so did his sharp gaze.

when hearing that you were visiting ruby, iske actually put in a whole lot of effort to look neat, tidy, and sophisticated to have your approval after ruby said that you were a cranky teen that did not really like people.

ruby managed to calm you down from your crankiness of disliking iske, she turned her head back to iske—

only to find him leaning against a pillar of the manor, as if sulking. well, ruby assumed he was sulking, judging by his faltered shoulders and contemplating expression. 

if anything, he looked troubled. 

ruby could barely hear the mumbles coming from him

ruby paled to see iske having an existential crisis. she shot you a warning glare before walking to iske, trying to comfort him, “iske, don't let my sister's words get into your head! you're fine the way you are!”  

iske is a duke, a commander, a man accustomed to respect and feared by many.

yet here he was, troubled by the blunt opinion of a teenager.

his wife's little sister.

it made him extra bothered when you really liked iske's sister, but not him.

during the duration of your stay, iske tried to appeal to you. somehow, that was. he always struck up conversations with you whenever you were around, which you found completely awkward and weird of him, unfortunately.

then he tried to appeal to your taste palette. he made sure that every meal from breakfast to dinner had meals that you were fond of, which ruby thankfully told him what you did like. that still did not make you like him at all.

iske had also attempted to give you tiny gifts. this was a strategy that ruby herself had told iske to try since you were quite fond of gifts. 

he had started to look like a kicked puppy due to not having ruby's little sister's approval.

“this isn't actually bad.” you admitted to ruby as you raised the toy plush of an animal you were fond of, gazing at it with satisfaction. “see, he's not that bad, right?” ruby mused with a strange sympathy for her husband, who's been in turmoil for two days due to you.

you gave her a look before sighing, “i'm surprised he's doing all of this. the attempts to talk to me, the food, and now the gifts. he's a real weirdo.” you huffed out.

you returned your eyes back to the plush. after a long while of thinking, you pouted, “ugh, fine... he's not that bad. i guess he's better than the rest of the other choices father had for you.” you grumbled out, embarrassed to admit that iske is actually a good man for your sister.

as you prepared to leave, you decided to apologise to iske about your behaviour. despite your irritation and resistance (and probably protectiveness over your sister), you could not ignore that iske had genuinely tried. 

you also had seen the way he looked at ruby. genuine love and care.

he was unlike those disgusting men.

you only gave a curt apology to iske. there was no need for grand gestures or for it to be lengthy before hopping into your carriage.

when you glanced out at the window, you noticed that iske's eyes brightened, like a dog. he looked at ruby with disbelief and pride. iske finally got your approval after three days of trying.

you could not help but feel a quiet sense of happiness, knowing that your sister will be fine with that weirdo.

・❥ want a hc / oneshot? please consider commissioning in ko-fi !

[fandoms-in-law]

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.”

[kitchensinkchronicles]

literally these were my results

THE FIRST TWO OPTIONS ARE EXACTLY THE SAME AND SHOW RESULTS IS 69%?!? this is too funny

okay hard launch this hard launch that i have a serious question for everyone. freak with me.

whatever you pick is real and canon btw and is true to life <- i am lying but consider this for your own fun

[edge-oftheworld]

see, a lot of me really wishes we WERE a closed, safe, trusted community in which getting updates of lua was normal behaviour like the early days of instagram when you'd share photos of whatever life updates you had with your mum, best friend, and 5 cousins. part of me wants to believe we can become that. I do like seeing her, I enjoy the snippets of their domestic life and Parent Michael and how he just steps into that naturally. it's authentic and he's absolutely in his element! the guitar concert and the baby video game controller and everything. this is Peak Parent Michael and I feel so blessed to see it

then also I'm fairly certain that if luke and sierra had a kid we would hear nothing of it til luke blurts it out by accident in some concert or interview. we might get an artsy blurry family photo or a professional Liz Hemmings Photography family portrait exactly once to confirm and then you know that child wouldn't even know the internet exists til they're 18 or so

[dutybcrne]

Looking back through the HIdden Strife stuff and I have to wonder

In A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting (VII), Kaeya tells Diluc 'The Grand Master has assigned the Cavalry Company to this mission. As such, I will be paying you a visit in three days.' And I can't help laughing my ass off at how SALTY Kaeya is to be left without an actual Cavalry Company

[tetsvya]

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."

[envy-of-the-apple]

The Monster You Know

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you.

Word Count: 6.9k

(Warnings: implied masturbation, implied nsfw, implied noncon recording, death of a minor character.....im pretty sure i missed a warning so lemme know any pls)

Instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself on the floor.

It's not a comfortable spot to sleep in. The carpet is clean, but it's odd because you don't have this type of carpet in your room. Actually, this isn't your room at all. 

But the panic doesn't really set in until you realize your arms are bound. 

You don't notice him until he speaks. You're too busy yanking on the metal, pulling your hand as hard as you could. The cuffs don't even budge. 

"If you keep yanking your arms like that, you might break 'em." 

He's tall, rivaling the door he just walked through. He looks a couple of years older than you, but his white hair can't be natural, not at his age. His blue eyes are lax. The worst part is how relaxed he looks. He has an eased posture and a pretty smile. He's amused, watching you like you’re a pesky mouse trapped in a bucket. 

You don’t know him. You’re stuck in an unfamiliar room, chained to the floor, and you don’t know this man. 

Escape isn’t possible. So you resort to the next best thing: you plead. 

“Who are you?” Your voice is light and wavers on every syllable. “Where-Where am I? Did you bring me here? Please don’t-“

”You always this talkative in the morning?” He dodges your question with a lax grin. “Anyway, uh, sorry about this-“ he gestures to your tied-up form “-I would've used a talisman, but those won’t work on you for obvious reasons. The handcuffs aren’t too tight, are they?” 

He steps closer, and you scream. It’s shrill, filled with a type of fear that makes your blood freeze because you don’t know this man, you don’t know where you are, and he’s getting closer. 

“Okay okay, I get it!” He manages to say over your pleas for help, but he steps back, and it’s enough to quiet your fear. “Obviously, you need some more time alone, so I’m gonna give you a couple more hours. Feel free to take a mint!” He cheerily points to the nightstand. 

He leaves as quickly as he enters. The door shuts but doesn’t lock. You’d be relieved if you weren’t still incapacitated. 

You look around the room. Nothing of value, nothing that you could reach and grab. Apart from a chair, the only other pieces of furniture were a heavy-looking bed and a bolted-down nightstand. Your kidnapper was certainly meticulous. 

The restraints have just enough slack for you to lean over. You peer at the nightstand. A plastic bowl, too flimsy to be made into a weapon. It contains wrapped-white candies. You gingerly pick one up. 

They’re sugar-free. 

He returns to the mints scattered all over the floor. 

“Okay.” He notes, gracefully stepping over the mess. “Clearly, you aren’t a fan of peppermint. 'you a wintergreen kinda’ person?” 

You don’t look at him. You’ve been in the same position you had been in for hours, sitting curled on the floor. By then, your desperation was starting to show through. 

“Please just let me go.” You mutter, your voice so low, it’s a miracle he can hear you. “I don’t have any money. I have nothing to offer.”

”Well, that’s good because I don’t want your money.” He says. “I know this looks pretty bad, but this is for your sake more than mine.”

You look at him just as he squats down to your height. You shift away. he smiles.

”Do you know what sorcerer's are?” 

You blink. 

“It’s fine if you don’t; we all start somewhere, right? A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate cursed energy. I’m a sorcerer! I don’t wanna brag too much, but I’m pretty good at it.” 

He laughs like he’s telling a joke, and you suddenly realize that you were kidnapped by someone who believes he’s a wizard. 

“Guess you’re still lost, huh? How about I just show you instead?” He points to an ironed-out shirt hanging on a rack. You follow his finger. 

He didn't move. There was no machinery. The shirt just crinkled by itself before it dropped to the floor. 

You gape. The man grins. 

"Pretty amazing, right? That's cursed energy, or, my power if you wanna be less technical." 

"Cursed energy." You whisper, a repetition of his words rather than any actual understanding. He beams regardless. 

"Yeah! Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but let's just start with the basics for now. Baby steps." 

Your dread doesn't fade. Earlier, you feared what a man could do to you, tied and defenseless. Now, you wondered what this man wouldn't do to you. 

"Okay, then....why?" You warily ask him. "Why tell me any of this? What's the point?" 

"An excellent question!" He commends you, as though he were your teacher and not your jailor. "See, cursed energy is a bit complicated, but it's extremely effective. In almost every case, it's the solution. Except for you." 

You shrink back. 

"What-what does that mean?"

His grin turns feline. He's enjoying this; seeing you shake, waver beneath his eyes. 

"Exactly what I said: you aren't affected by cursed energy. A sorcerer could use their technique on you, and there won't even be a scratch on your body. You're basically the Eraserhead of the Jujutsu World." 

You stare at him. He hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh. 

"I'm not great at explanations. How about we just have a hands-on experience?" 

He extends his hands. A purple orb crackles to life, slowly gaining mass. 

"Not too big," he says, though it's clear he isn't speaking to you, "don't wanna wreck the room." 

He adjusts his angle so it's facing you. Your eyes widen, and the desperation to wrangle yourself out of the handcuffs grows stronger. 

"Wait, stop!" You pleads fall on deaf ears. "Okay okay. I believe you. I believe you-" He flicks his fingers. You close your eyes just before impact. 

You expected something. Electricity, a shock. Pain. Your body being eviscerated in milliseconds. 

Nothing. Not even a gust of wind. 

When your eyes open, he's grinning at you. 

"See?" He says, "Not even a scratch." 

He's right. Your clothes aren't even rustled, but the evidence is there. The carpet below you is shaved and cleaned off. And the wall closest to you has cracks on it.

You look back up at him. 

"I said I believed you." 

He shrugs. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we're on the same page." His smile is starting to look less scary and more annoying. 

Your mind still struggles to keep up with all the information you've been given. The typhoon of anxiety is coursing through you. 

"So, then....why this?" You mention to the handcuffs. 

"Just a little confirmation you won't go crazy and destroy the place." He supplies happily. "If jujutsu doesn't work on you, then bindings and talismans definitely won't do a thing. Looking back, abduction probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world. I would've figured something else out, but time wasn't on our side in this case. Especially if we wanted you alive." 

You pale at that. He notices. 

"What, you thought I'd be the only person who noticed you? You're an anomaly. In our world, that's dangerous. Also, the bounty on your head is a pretty nice incentive for people to get the job done." 

"A bounty?"

He grins, and the number he gives makes your mouth hang open. 

"Yup, pretty crazy, right? Anyway, until everything settles down, you and I are roomies!" He claps. "Isn't that exciting!?" 

You glance at him. Then, in the room. Then, at your cuffs. Everything was going so fast. The only constant was him. 

"So, I'm not really a prisoner?" You ask. "I could just...leave, right?" 

"Sure you could. If you hear all that and still wanna go, I won't stop you. Promise." He nods. "But you'd be dead as soon as you step out of the apartment." 

It's not a threat. It's a promise. And not from him. That makes it worse. 

This is insane. All of this is insane; who'd believe any of it? But his powers....that can't be faked. As well as everything that he told you. Why would he lie? What reason could he have to deceive you? 

"Okay," you say hesitantly, "just one more thing." 

The man leans in. 

"What's your name?" 

He smiles. 

Becoming Gojo's roommate was an easy transition. 

You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow. Becoming someone's consenting captive isn't a struggle once you get used to it. A few days in and you and your 'captor' have fallen into an easy rhythm. It's easy to grow trusting of him, especially when there are others who can vouch for him. 

"You should be arrested." Ieiri mumbles, checking your wrists. 

"What? I can't believe you're upset with me." Gojo responds though he doesn't sound very panicked. "I was desperate!" 

Ieiri shakes her head, continuing wrapping your wrists. Amid your panic during the first few hours in Gojo's apartment, you managed to sprain your wrists, trying to yank yourself out of the handcuffs. You wince when she presses on your bruised skin. 

"Sorry," she says, voice flat. You smile anyway. 

Ieiri was also a sorcerer, but she had a different technique. Instead of Gojo's destruction, hers revolved around healing. You've never really seen it in action ("My technique won't work on you; even then, it's a sprained wrist. You'll live."), but it sounded pretty powerful. 

"I'm not upset." Ieiri continues. "But I'm surprised you're going along with all this." That sentence is directed at you. 

You shrug while trying to keep still for her. "He was pretty convincing." 

Ieiri raises a brow, before ultimately deciding she doesn't care. 

"Again, I'm very sorry about all this." Ijichi pipes up. Ever since he entered Gojo's flat, he's been doing nothing but begging for your forgiveness for Gojo's abrupt actions. Apologetic, but not very shocked. You're assuming this isn't the first time Gojo has done something like this. 

Gojo's allies were very different from each other, you ultimately decided. 

“We thought we’d have more time to approach you,” he continues with a nervous smile, “we never expected the clans to move so quickly.” 

“Clans?” You ask, “What clans?” 

Ijichi gives Gojo a look. Gojo looks away, whistling. Eventually, Ijichi’s shoulders drop. 

“Some minor clans with dwindling jujitsu sorcerers.” He gives. “And then the bounty happened and well…” he trails off. 

You nod. “So, when will everything go back to normal?”

Gojo grins. Ieiri sighs. It’s Ijichi who gives the most concrete response. 

You look at the three of them. “Or will things ever go back to normal?”

”It’s hard to say,” Ijichi says, “news travels fast in the jujutsu world, but it’s not improbable. Miyashiro will let us know eventually.” 

"Miyashiro?” 

To answer your question, Ijichi pulls out his phone. You stare at a picture of yourself. But you know you’ve never been in that restaurant before. 

“It’s his technique.” Ijichi tells you. “Flesh manipulation. For the time being, Miyashiro will pose as you and can hopefully air out any potential bounty hunters. He’s the perfect man for the job.” 

You nod, a bit skeptical. “Isn’t this a bit dangerous? Aren’t people trying to kill me?” 

Ijichi tucks away his phone. “Miyashiro is one our best. He'll be fine.” He assures. 

Satisfied with your answers, you nod. Ieiri pulls away after she finishes wrapping your hand. Gojo claps his hands together. 

“See, roomie? You’re in great hands!” He chirps. You nod, if only to seem compliant. 

Apart from Gojo himself, Ieiri and Ijichi are the only ones who know about your predicament, his most trusted people. The rest of the world is unaware that there's someone posing as you, nor that you've gone into hiding. Not your friends. Not even your family. ("It's for the best," Ijichi explained when you voiced your worries, "but we promise, once the bounty is down, we'll return you back to your life. It'll be like nothing ever happened.").

Settling in barely takes a week. Gojo's nice enough to lend you his room, more than happy to set up in the living room. Despite how you two 'met', he's quickly proven to be a nice guy. 

Nice. Just nice. 

To be honest, you don't know all that much about Gojo. He's letting you stay in his home, but you don't see him all that much. Gojo is gone pretty much all day. Sometimes, he's gone for days on end. The apartment feels more like yours than his. 

"I'm the strongest." He told you when you asked. You don't know what he means by that, so you didn't pry. 

Despite the awkwardness, you don't mind the distant relationship. The man probably has his day packed with hunting down demons and this school he talked about. 

The change doesn't happen until two weeks after you move in. 

You weren't allowed to have a phone, nor any internet access, so you mostly spent your time doing hobbies. You've always wanted to learn to crochet, and now you finally had time to actually learn. Drawing also took some hours out of your day. And eventually, you moved onto cooking. 

Ijichi was more than happy to grab you the grocery items when you asked. When you insisted on paying him back, he declined profusely. He was actually the one who organized getting your things and really moving you in. You have another thing you owe these people. 

Cooking was a steep learning curve. Before, you'd only made simple sandwiches and curries, so the food starting out wasn't the best. But you enjoyed the journey more, rather than the end result. Pretty soon, you became pretty good at it. 

Gojo wasn't home often these days, so you jump when the front door clicks open. He takes off that blindfold he's always wearing, blinking a couple times before his blue gaze settles on you in the kitchen. 

"What's all this?" He cocks his head. He isn't smiling. 

Oh no. You remembered getting permission to use his kitchen, but maybe he hadn't expected you to go this far? The kitchen is a mess. There's flour everywhere. You still hadn't washed the cutting board, nor the knives. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I can clean up and-" 

He waves his hand. "It's fine. I'm not mad, I just..." He drifts off. 

You suddenly have a feeling that you might've misread this entire situation. 

"Would you like some?" You ask. "I think I made too much." 

"I could eat," he says.

You smile. 

A few moments later, the two of you are settled on the table. Gojo's never been so quiet before. In the short time you've known him, he's always been boisterous and playful. Now, he's silent. Staring at the food. 

You hold your breath when he takes his first bite. 

"It's good." He says, his mouth full. It's cute. "Really, really good. Damn." 

You laugh out of nerves. 

"You think so? I'm glad! It was my first time trying out this recipe and I wasn't sure if it'd turn out well and..." you're rambling, you know that. You can't help yourself. 

"No, it's good. Real good," he says. It's silent again, but not as uncomfortable this time. The only thing you hear is the clanking of silverware and the hum of the lights. Outside the window, the city lights twinkle. 

You're on your last bite when he speaks again. 

"'been a while since I've had a homecooked meal." He starts with a slight laugh. "Kinda' forgot what it's like." 

You think of the fridge. How it was only ever stacked with protein shakes and instant meals. Gojo was a sorcerer. The strongest. You think you get what that means now. 

"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," you say. 

He looks at you with the prettiest blue you've ever seen. The color of a bright cloudless sky. 

"I think I'd like that." 

Who ever said the phrase 'the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was onto something. Your friendship with Gojo bloomed after that night. On the seldom nights he came home, dinner was made and sitting on the table. It took a few days for the two of you to warm up enough to talk to each other. Once Gojo got going, it was a lot harder to shut him up. He talked about his school, his work as a teacher for other jujutsu sorcerers. You liked the way he talked about his students. Nothing but pride and affection .

On the nights he didn't come home, you'd save the leftovers in the fridge. They were usually gone by the morning. 

He was around a lot more after that night. Not that you minded, it was his house. You just didn't get a few things about him. For example, that blindfold of his. Why wear it when it was clear he couldn't see with it on? 

You decide to bring it up the third time he nearly runs you over.

"It's part of my technique." He explains. "The six eyes. They're basically cursed energy x-rays. The blindfold just limits their strength." 

You were lounged on the sofa watching TV while he was plopped right next to you. He's switched his blindfold for his glasses. 

"Oh," you say when it clicks, "and since I block people's abilities you..." 

"Yup! Can't see you at all!" Gojo happily fills in. "It doesn't help that you're so quiet. Maybe I should put a bell on you." 

You laugh, but it doesn't sound like he was joking. 

"What's it like?" You ask, turning to him, "Seeing the way, you see? What-what do you see?"

"Everything." Gojo shrugs. 

You frown. "That's not very descriptive." 

He laughs. "Here, wanna try?" He takes off his glasses, handing them over. "These things are real popular with the ladies." 

He's avoiding the question, but you don't bother chasing him for it. Instead, you grab the lenses, pulling them over your eyes. You expect to see the secrets of the universe. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Though, that might be the point.  

"Everything, hm?" You ask, when you take them off. "That sounds exhausting." 

He takes them back with a grin. "It is! My eyes hurt so so much! You should pity me and make matcha tiramisu." 

You laugh, drawing back. "That's what this is about? To guilt trip me into making dessert for you?" 

"Did it work?" 

You think for a moment.

"Get me the ingredients, and I'll see." 

He cheers but doesn't fully answer your question until the episode ends when you've bid him goodnight and are about to return to the bedroom. 

"You're blurry from far away." 

When you look at him, his glasses are gone, tucked under his collar. It's night, but the sky still stares down at you. His usual smile is gone, stretched into a line you can't place. 

"I can see down to molecules, atoms. Not you." 

You look at him, his eyes. The beautiful curse they are. 

You force yourself to take the first step. Then another. Then another. When you're right in front of him, when he's towering over you, you open to your mouth. 

"What do you see, Gojo?" 

"Everything." He honestly replies. 

Everything. Not just cursed energy. Down to cells, molecules, atoms. You can't fathom how much that is, the essence of everything. What's that like? Being able to see the universe so much that it hurts? So much so that it makes him want to wear a blindfold and never see anything again. 

But you're blurry. Gojo can't see you the way he sees others. 

You reach your hands up slowly like you're approaching a wild animal. In some ways, maybe that's what Gojo is: unpredictable, able to wield the power of space—power that's useless against you. 

You cover his eyes. He doesn't stop you. 

"What do you see, Satoru?" 

He doesn't speak, and you're afraid he's forgotten how. 

"Nothing." Quiet, barely more than a whisper.

He slouches ever so slightly, leaning into your hands like some weight's been lifted. It makes you smile. 

When you try to pull your hands away, his wrap around your wrist, keeping you there. So you stay—for as long as he wants. 

It starts something of a tradition between the two of you. Not every night, not even most nights, but every so often, Satoru would grow quiet, shift in a particular way. You hoped it was therapeutic for him, a break rather than a glimpse of what could have been. You hoped you were helping. 

And, if you were torturing him, hopefully, you won't be for long. 

"How much longer do you think I have to do this?" You ask. 

He hums, clearly not paying attention. You two were in the kitchen, making some sweet he saw trending on the internet. Well, you were doing all the work. Satoru kept trying to steal the batter. 

"You know. Sleeping under your roof, eating all your food, stealing you bed." You urge, while whisking. 

"You're acting like I've been keeping you in the attic, roomie." Satoru pouts. "C'mon, I haven't been that bad, have I?" 

"I'm asking for your sake rather than mine," you tell him. "I'm sure you'll be thrilled to have your house back, and your bed. When will everything settle down?" 

His blindfold is on, as it usually is. To help him out, you've taken to wearing squeaky slippers around the house. He'd offered to buy you one of those cat collars with bells. You declined. 

He's looking in your direction. You know he can't see you, but you can still feel his eyes on you. It's a strange feeling. 

"There's talks of taking down the bounty," Satoru finally says, losing his playful tone, "just rumors, nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to relocate you somewhere overseas." 

Yeah, you were worried about that. Leaving everything behind, your home, your friends, your family, because your life was in danger. You hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. 

"We have a couple of options, though," Satoru says, "negotiations, for one." 

You perk up at that. "Negotiations?" You ask. 

He nods. "Right now, you're under my protection. Unofficially. I could pull some strings, get those old geezers at the academy to take you in as some special assistant." 

You tilt your head. "Like at the school that you teach, right?" 

He nods. "We have a case like yours attending the school, too. I think you and him would get along." 

"Your ability could be pretty useful to us. You might even get out in the field every so often." Satoru continues. "A special technique like that would be wasted down here." 

Special. He's said that before. You can't remember when, but you know he's right. You're an anomaly, but you can use your abilities for good. But could you really do that? Risk your life every day? Lose pieces of yourself like that?

"I don't really feel special," you say, "I don't want to be special either." You glance at him. "Is that a bad thing?" 

Even blindfolded, somehow, his eyes find yours. 

"No," he says, no judgment in his voice, "it just makes you human." 

Relief. You can feel it sinking through your veins. Part of you feels guilty. Satoru is right; you could do a lot. But you...you don't want to end up like him. 

That makes you feel even worse, but then you catch something in his tone. 

"You sound like you're not very human," you say back. You're teasing, but it falls flat. 

He hums. It's not quite the response you were looking for. It takes a second for him to start up again. 

"When I was younger, people used to call me creepy." 

You stare at him. 

"What?." 

He grins, but it's not his usual one. 

"It's true." He shrugs. "Mostly, it was 'cause of my eyes. They called them unnerving. Monstrous. My folks were always a creative bunch." He says it so casually, but you can hear the bite on his voice. It's phrased as a joke, but it isn't.

You put down your whisk, giving him your full attention. 

"That's not true," you respond, "you know that, right? You aren't a monster. Monsters aren't as kind as you are." 

"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Maybe I'm using my kindness as a lure to trap you. Guess you just fell for it, roomie. 'thought you were smarter than that." You roll your eyes. 

"Okay, fine, I yield. You're a monster. But out of all the monsters in the world, I'd pick you." 

For a moment, there's silence in the kitchen. Then- 

"So cheesy!" Satoru laughs. He reaches over, roughly pinching your cheek. "Who knew you could say such cute things, roomie." 

You slap his hands away, now extremely annoyed. 

"Nevermind. I take it back," you retort. "I'd run away as far as I could from you." 

"Good, you should," he replies. "I won't stop you." 

You scoff. 

"Maybe that's why everyone thought you were creepy." You go back to your whisking. "It's not your eyes, you just say a lot of ominous shit." 

Despite how peaceful it is, making desert, cooking, and acting domestic, it can't last forever. The world was still hunting for you, and it had no problems reminding you of that. 

One night, you wake up to the sounds of hushed talking. 

It's coming from the living room. Multiple voices. Quiet but urgent. You're used to the noise. Satoru has this habit of blasting terrible soap operas at 2 am. You don't think that man sleeps. Over time, you've gotten used to at least one disturbance. 

But this feels different. It's enough to rub the sleep out of your eyes, making you pad over to the hall. 

They hear you before they see you. Satoru's apartment has creaky floorboards. Ijichi tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. Ieiri just looks away. Satoru is leaning back against the couch, legs crossed. He's frowning. That's how you know something isn't right. 

"Is everything okay?" You ask anyway. 

Ijichi gives a tight grin. 

"Everything's fine." He's quick to console. "We-we were just-" 

"Stop." Satoru immediately cuts in. He's wearing his blindfold. You can't tell what he's thinking. 

"We're not hiding it. Everyone involved should know." 

Ijichi deflates. You think Ieiri sneers. 

Satoru beckons you closer with long fingers. You step forward. They're sitting around a computer. You peek at the screen.

Instantly, you wish you hadn't. 

There were pictures of you. Dead. Your body parts were strewn across the floor. Your hands were broken in every other way. Your legs were in pieces. Your head snapped clean off, blood oozing from your appendages like you were just a packet of liquid. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The other was crushed. But it wasn't you, it was- 

"Miyashiro. At least, what's left of him." Satoru gives.  

The doppelganger, the guy who was covering for you. He was supposed to be one of their best; what happened to him? 

What was going to happen to you? 

They're talking again. At least, you think they are. Their words are muffled, filtered through water. You can't make out what anyone is saying. Your heart's beating too fast. It's pounding through your ears. You can only stare at the picture, what was left of him. Someone's touching you. A hand on your back. 

"Roomie, hey," Satoru's voice comes.

The pounding stops. You look up at him. 

Angelic. It's the only word you could think of. His snow-white hair was pretty, falling elegantly down his face. He'd taken his blindfold off. Blue eyes, sparkling, cleansing. Purifying, like the Ganges river. 

How could anyone think a beautiful sight like this was monstrous? 

He calls your name, your real name, and you break. 

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. And you're sobbing, tears of everything flowing down your face. 

Hands, hesitant, unsure, rest on your back. And then Satoru's holding you as tightly as he can.

He's warm. It's all you can think as you shake in his hold. 

He's warm. 

"I won't have to worry about that if I just gave in, hm?" You ask. 

It was a couple of days later from your episode. Satoru had convinced you to give one of his soap operas a shot. On-screen, a woman slapped her cheating husband. 

Satoru was lounging beside you, feet propped up on the coffee table. You want to tell him off, but it's his house. 

"If you went to the school, you mean?" He asks. "Probably. You'd be a lot freer. Won't have to sit in a cramped apartment all day. 'sides, jujutsu tech is always on the lookout for fresh talent. The higher-ups would be ecstatic to have someone like you under their thumb." 

"But I'd have to become a sorcerer." You say the unspoken. 

Gojo nods. "Yeah, you would." 

And you don't want that. To face curses, to face death every day. You know you can't handle that. You aren't strong, like Satoru. 

"I'm sorry," you say. 

He laughs. "For what?" 

You shrug as the on-screen couple makes up again. "For being...a coward, I guess."

He thinks for a moment. 

"It's not about bravery," he says in the end, "being a sorcerer is just...that. A sorcerer. It's a job. A title. Only a special few can do it. The crazy ones." 

His tone gets a bit playful. 

"No offense, roomie, but I don't think you got enough crazy in you." 

"That's a compliment, actually." You correct. He ignores you. 

"'sides, I like you staying here." Satoru declares, stretching his arms out on the couch. "Who'd feed me? It'd be horrible to go back to ramen again." 

You roll your eyes. "Right. Who else will wake at 2 am because of your whining to make wagashi?" 

"See! You get it!" Satoru grins. You can't force the smile off your face. 

The husband's mistress has entered the set. The wife is confident that her husband will choose her. She's left heartbroken all over again. You don't get how she couldn't see it. The red flags were all there, and still, she was left blindsided. Never saw it coming. She trusts too easily, you decided. 

"Also, I like having you here," Satoru says. 

You glance at him. He's watching the screen. 

"It's...nice." He admits after a bit. "To have company like this. It reminds me of back when I was younger. When the two of us lived in the dorms." 

When he was a student? Who was he talking about? You don't pry. It's clear he isn't talking to you. 

"I'm glad you're here," Satoru says. 

Lightly, you bump shoulders with him. Infinity doesn't stop you. 

"You're a sweet monster." You tell him. 

He gives a secret grin. 

Every once in a while, Gojo peeks into the bedroom while you're sleeping. 

He's subtle about it, doesn't make too much noise. You're a light sleeper, so it takes little to nothing to wake you up. 

He doesn't do anything. He stands there, shuffles here and there, hovering by the foot of the bed. You just pretend to be asleep in those cases, evening out your breaths, closing your eyes. It's always the same. He loiters around for a minute, and then he's shutting the door behind him. 

It's strange, but you try not to think too much of it. He was probably looking for something. It's his room after all. 

It's just...strange. 

You find it when you're looking through his book shelf. 

He doesn't have anything interesting to read. It's mainly just historical novels. You're perusing through one before a photograph falls out of the pages. 

It's tiny, barely larger than your palm. It only takes a second to realize what you're looking at. 

"Found your baby pictures." You gleefully tell Satoru when he comes back. 

"What?" He tilts his head; you wave the photo in front of him. When he tries to take it, you pull back. 

"Tiny Satoru!" You squeal. "Who knew you were once so small? I always thought you were born six feet over." 

It's a simple photograph, a little aged, but still clear. Satoru looks about eight, standing between a man and a woman. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. He isn't wearing sunglasses or a blindfold. Doll-like blue eyes. You don't feel like you're looking at a child. He's too-

"Are those your parents?" You ask, letting him take the photograph from you. 

"No," he says, "my caretakers." 

Caretakers. Not nannies, or anything else. It felt so clinical. You lean against his shoulder, still staring at the photograph. 

"You look cute." You finally say. When you peak over, a hint of a smile is twitching on his face. "But I totally agree with everyone. You look creepy. Like one of those children from the exorcist. Climbing over the walls." 

"I never grew out of that phase." Satoru ponders. You laugh. 

"What was it like?" You ask. "You said you're from a clan, right?" 

"Exhausting." Satoru groans. "Never a break from training. I should go back and sue my folks for child abuse. I could get millions." 

"I could help you with that." You pipe in. "I've never gone to law school, but I feel like I'd make a great lawyer." 

"I'll keep that in mind." He promises teasingly before his smile fades. 

"But that's the norm for most kids in jujutsu." He sighs. "Gotta' be perfect. Gotta' be the best, right from the beginning. There's a student I know who had a rough start, but she's the best in her class. Her clan didn't care about her potential. Those kids are all scary talented, they just need a bit of nurturing, that's all." 

You stare at him. He catches you. 

"What?" He asks, before his eyes widen. "Do I have a pimple?" 

You shake your head. "For some reason, I feel like that's impossible for you." You tease.

"I'm just admiring you, I think. For being such a kind person." 

"I thought we agreed I was a monster." Satoru points out. 

This again. You roll your eyes. 

"Fine, a good monster." You correct. "A monster, I know." 

"The monster you know." He repeats

You want to ask him why he's so insistent on that. For some reason, you hold your voice. 

Satoru's apartment had two bathrooms. Lately, the one in the bedroom has had some issues. 

It's been awkward lately trying to share the only working bathroom. Satoru and you shower at around the same time, so you've opted to hold back your morning routine a little later. You still manage to catch each other. The amount of times you've accidentally caught him walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist would be too mortifying to admit. 

But, so far, it's working. And you can't complain since you at least have one working bathroom. It's the little things. 

Tonight, you wake up to your bladder urging you to move. And yet, your body still wants to sleep. You check the time. It's nearly 2 in the morning.

It takes a while to pull yourself up, unraveling yourself from the covers before you're trudging out the bedroom. Satoru's apartment is so dark. It's a completely different look compared to daytime. You feel your way with the walls, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. When you peek over at the living room, Satoru isn't there. He must not be coming home tonight. 

The bathroom is shut, but there's a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Fuck, you did not shut the lights off last time. You need to be less careless. 

At first, you think Satoru's hurt. 

He looks hurt. He's hunched over, shaking shoulders, harsh breathing. You can only see his back, but he looks like he's in agony. You're about to step forward, ask what happened, and then you catch a glimpse of what he's clutching. 

Pretty, blue, laced panties. 

Your panties. 

And you're close enough to hear his voice whispering your name. Over and over again. 

"Fuck, fuck, baby, need you, just lemme-just lemme, all mine, all mine-"

He doubles over, tightening his grip on the edge of the sink. Your panties are damp. 

You flinch, and in your moment of panic, you step back. Creaky floorboards. 

Satoru looks up in the mirror. You don't move. 

He takes his time. Placing his phone down. Adjusting his pants, washing his hands. You can only stand there, frozen. Staring. Staring until he's in front of you, looking right back. 

You might have forgiven him if he had fumbled, laughed it off, became bashful. A human reaction. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. His eyes mirror that photograph. Doll-like, absolutely empty. 

Monstrous. 

Your eyes water. He turns blurry for a second. 

Satoru steps aside. You wordlessly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't bother locking. 

You don't know how long you stay there, quiet, shaking, your mind trying to piece together what you just saw. You stay there for hours. You stay there for seconds. Time stretches on like infinity itself, yet even then, it's too short. 

You're alone with him. It's a thought you never even had until now. You're alone with him. 

Satoru is outside. You don't look at him, staring at the floor, looking at the carpet, counting each strand. You keep your head down when you return to the bedroom. 

He follows. You say nothing. You don't look. You don't look, even when the covers shift and he gets into bed behind you. You don't look, even when there's a hand on your shoulder. You don't look, even when there's a chest pressed against your back. 

You shiver, you shake. You don't look. He says nothing, even when you break down completely. 

You wake up alone the next morning. 

You don't waste a second. You're stumbling through the room, picking up your clothes, packing everything that you need. You're so panicked that you manage to knock over an alarm clock. 

It's habit to reach down and pick it up. Learned politeness to scrutinize it to make sure it isn't broken. 

A black dot stares back at you. 

A camera. 

Horrible memories of last night come back. He was watching something on his phone. 

You feel nauseous, about to give all over the floor. You need to go. You needed to get out of there. 

The apartment is silent, like it always is when Satoru isn't here. You just hadn't noticed how cold it was, lifeless. It makes the pit on your stomach gap. You expect the windows to be bolted shut. They aren't. Sunlight streams through the glass. The front door is unbarred too. 

It's easy to leave. 

You stop anyway. One question. 

Where would you go? 

You can't go back home. Miyashiro's body still haunts you. His soul in your body, torn apart with such hatred and vitriol. Those people were still looking for you. The only reason you were still alive was because Miyashiro took your death bed. 

You'd die if you went back home. 

You can't go to jujutsu tech. You'd be expected to lay down your life, serve a maskless force that pretended to do good. You'd certainly die. Ripped apart by curses. 

You'd be slaughtered if you went to the school.

Every route is treacherous, nearly impossible, full of dangers and unknowns. 

At least, you know what Satoru wants. 

He's made it clear since the beginning. You were just willfully ignorant. Oblivious on purpose. More than happy to ignore the red flags because you knew he was a kind person to his students, ignoring the dichotomy of his actions. 

Two things can be right at once. 

Satoru won't stop you if you run. He told you that himself. You could leave if you wanted, and he won't follow. But every other path is filled with an intangible value, and Satoru is the monster you know. 

Your hand falls away from the doorknob. 

You get started on dinner.

You're still there when Satoru comes back. You say nothing. Neither does he. Dinner is a quiet affair. He doesn't talk about his day, he doesn't talk about his students. When you wash the plates, he's quietly standing behind you. When you get out of the shower, he's waiting outside the bathroom. 

You can't bring yourself to look at him until you get into bed. Your eyes trail up, past his legs, his shoulders, his neck. Looking into Satoru's crystal blue eyes. 

Blank. Numb. Empty. 

You think of the cameras. You think of your stolen underwear. 

You think of how much his eyes must hurt right then. 

You raise one hand out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt. It's barely a tug, but the monster follows like he's weightless, crawling into bed. He's too big to hold properly, but he sinks into your body anyway. His forehead rests against your chest. His eyes close. You don't feel that ice anymore. 

“What do you see, Satoru?” 

“Nothing.” A pause. A stilted breath. 

“Nothing but you.” 

He was right in the end. Satoru is a monster. There's no other word that can describe him. Inhuman, far above humanity itself. But he's the monster you'd pick, every single time.

[hoshifighting]

hey since requests are open could you do a Seventeen reaction to s/o crying while having sex, something where they haven’t figured out the reason for her cry and are confused?

(spoiler alert, her being deliciously split in half is the reason 😫?)

Seventeen reacting to you crying during sex (bc you're being deliciously split in a half)

Seungcheol

hates seeing people cry, especially you. he immediately stops, his face full of concern. "hey, babe! babe! what's wrong?" when you finally manage to tell him that it's because he’s making you feel so good, a cocky grin spreads across his face. "Is that so?" he says, resuming his movements with newfound confidence.

Jeonghan

his eyes widen, and he stops everything, his worry evident and kind of adorable. "shit, are you okay? darling did I do something?" You find his concern cute, and when you finally explain, he relaxes, a sly smile forming on his lips. "oh, really?" he says with a newfound vigor. "let’s see if I can make you cry even harder." he resumes with more intensity, determined to see u cumming with tear streaming your face.

Joshua

his reaction is tender. he immediately caresses your cheeks, his voice soft and soothing. "babe, it’s okay. what’s wrong? tell me.." even after you assure him it’s because of the pleasure, he tries to distract you, his fingers playing with your clit to heighten your experience. "let’s make you feel even better, yeah?"

Junhui

goes completely still, his eyes wide with concern. you manage to choke out that it feels so good, and a slow smile spreads across his face. "oh, I see," he murmurs, resuming his motions. "I’ll keep going, then."

Hoshi

is immediately worried and slides off you, his face a picture of concern. "Y/N-nie did I do something wrong?" when you beg him to be inside you again, his worry turns into amusement. "alright, but you asked for it," he says, thrusting deep and sharp, finding your pleasured tears a fucking tease.

Wonwoo

goes still too, "what did I do wrong babe?" he needs a few moments to process when you explain it’s because of the pleasure. "oh," he says softly, starting to move again. "I didn’t realize you felt that good."

Woozi

holds your hands, his eyes wide with confusion. "why are you crying?" he never thought seeing you cry in this moment would turn him on so much. when you tell him it’s because it feels amazing, he bites his lip, clearly affected.

Minghao

immediately soothes you, his voice calm and gentle. "darling, hey, look at me, what happened?" when you explain, he lets out a relieved breath, resuming his hips, cock stretching your wet pussy. "good to know, baby" he says with a smirk.

Mingyu

looks like a worried puppy, thinking he hurt you. "oh my god, baby, we should stop–" when you grind on him, urging him to continue, he relaxes a bit. "okay, if you say so," he murmurs, resuming his movements still a little concerned.

Seokmin

is surprised at how pretty you look while crying. he never knew he’d find it so arousing. "hm, babe? are you crying? why?" when you tell him it’s because of the pleasure, he grins. "the more you cry, the harder I’ll go," he says, and you cry enen harder, just to feel his cock splitting you open.

Seungkwan

almost panics at first, thinking he’s hurting you. "oh my God, are you okay?" "babe don't stop! please!" you beg and he coos at you, his worry melting away. "hm? it's that good baby? huh?," he whispers, resuming his movements as you roll your eyes at the back of your skull.

Vernon

is the most confused from all of them. "why are you crying?" even though you tell him it’s because it feels good, he resumes with uncertainty. "babe? are you sure? it's not hurting you... it is?" he says, watching you closely until he gets used to seeing your pleasured tears.

Chan

stops immediately, his concern evident. "what’s wrong? should I...stop?" when you squirm and tell him to continue, he resumes, determined to make you cum around his sore cock. "I’ll keep going," he says, his voice soft. "but I’m going to make sure you’re okay." he dries your tears during it, his movements precise and caring.

[suiana]

(yandere! alien x gn! reader)

the human spirit is indomitable. that much was obvious, especially with how you were still fighting against him even though there was clearly no escape. or at least that's what he thought.

"why do you still fight against me..."

the alien mumbles, voice cracking as he tries to move under the rubble you trapped him under. shit, this was not ideal at all. he can't believe you actually manage to drug him and then trapped him under the broken ceiling you shattered when he was chasing after you.

he still didn't know how you did it. he was faster, stronger, smarter... you shouldn't have been able to trick him like this. yet, his overconfidence might've been a reason as to why you got a one-up over him.

"you know there's no escape right? my spaceship has yet to dock at a port and we are light years away from earth."

the otherworldly creature tries reasoning with you, staring at your shaking figure as you tug at the collar he made you wear. it was a pretty thing, made of the finest jewels he got from another planet he visited a few years back.

he thought it would look good on you, and it did. so his heart aches when you destroyed it, allowing the jewels to scatter all over his once pristine floors.

no matter, he can just fix it again.

"darling, you should stop resisting. you will just tire yourself out."

the alien sighs, not finding your actions amusing as he shakes his head.

he doesn't get humans at all. why do you try so hard even when there's clearly no intelligent way to win this? perhaps that's why your civilization is still heaps below others, like his.

that was, until, he saw you dig out the microchip tracker he implanted into your neck with your bare hands.

his eyes widen in horror, jaw going slack as he screams, body shaking as he desperately tries moving under the rubble only for you to step on his face and throw the chip at him.

"fucking alien... don't you know? adrenaline is one hell of a drug."

he hears your laughter resounding through the hallways, your footsteps growing softer and softer as he tries to recover from your painful stomp.

his eyes shake, his features in undeniable pain as he feels his body giving up on him.

no, no, no!

he tries wiggling more, but unfortunately, his species had not adapted to recover from situations like this. so all he could do as he laid in pain under the rubble was to shout at you, desperation in his tone as he sees you touching and entering something into the emergency escape pod he had on his spaceship.

"darling don't you dare leave!"

he screams, looking absolutely pathetic as his eyes widen in both fear and anger. no! you weren't supposed to leave! you were supposed to be just some human who would give up escape and love him! you were supposed to accept him as your mate the second he kidnapped you because of how obsessed he had become after observing you for weeks in his spaceship!

you weren't supposed to leave him under the rubble like this!

you're clearly weaker, more stupid... and definitely an inferior species! why couldn't you just love him?! why couldn't you just give up and accept his affections?!

"darling! i'm warning you! if you leave i will find you and i will be very angry!"

the alien tries threatening, wincing in pain as the effects of your face stomping still lingered. but of course, he knew you wouldn't listen to him. not when you so eagerly pointed your middle finger at him (a sign he came to see as disrespect in human customs) before leaving in the space shuttle.

he lets out a strangled scream, completely still under the rubble as his frustration and anger reaches it's peak. god damn it! now he has to wait for god knows how long until the drug wears off to finally be able to move and try to find you!

maybe he shouldn't have doubted humans so much. perhaps the rumors about the human spirit being indomitable were right. maybe the humans really were meant to conquer the stars.

[rene-darling]

Innocent scaramouce first time with dom fem reader?

Innocent little kabukimono

...yandere reader...red flag reader!...toxic relationships please do not imitate irl...I think.. I took way too much creative liberty with this..but-...im tired of seeing innocent readers x corrupted men. We need so corrupted yandere-ish readers!...

...kabukimono x yandereish reader...

Innocent little kabukimono who knows nothing of real life, and is just oh so naive. And you, this corrupted person who goes around doing whatever they please, leading on a man and then ditching him for good, a cruel harbinger who revels in the suffering of the innocent, and oh my is he innocent.

Kabukimono who doesn't know right from wrong, he doesn't even have life's most basic skills. The perfect man for you to corrupt.

Kabukimono who doesn't know that kisses are only meant to be shared by lovers and to be done in private, so you might be in the middle of talking to another harbinger when he approaches you and casually leaves a kiss on your lips.

The other harbinger and your underlings are left in a state of shock. He kissed you And he still has his head?? Kabukimono notices their weird stares and questions them "Hm? Do you not know? This is something friends do with each other!" he informs them proudly. He's your dearest friend.

Dear little kabukimono who gets scared when you come home drenched in blood, but you just smile at him and open your arms. He knows he can't deny you, you told him that denying your friend's hug is very rude!

So he hugs your bloody form, shivering a bit. You're so cold, like a corpse. It's okay. You reassure him, that you were just getting rid of some bad guys. Some real baddies who harm the innocent. This reassures him, wow, you're so cool! You help people by getting rid of bad guys right? Wow!

Innocent kabukimono who admires you so much. You're the coolest person out there, and he trusts you.

Pure little kabukimono who tries making you some yummy food, only to fail since for some reason it always turns out to sour, too hot, or just burnt. It was like someone was messing with him and doing it on purpose.

And when he tells you that he's messed up yet again and sees how your face falls, he can't deal with it. He's so dumb, so stupid, he can't help it! He can't do anything without you. So he starts crying, soft little hiccups turn into full-on sobs as globs of tears fall from his eyes.

Who hugs you and apologizes over and over, he's sorry he's such a dummy! He'll learn! He'll be more useful to you, he doesn't know where the dish went wrong! Please don't abandon him, he's sorry for being useless!

And it brings him so much comfort when you hug him back, holding his tiny waist as you almost feel bad for purposefully messing up his dish, not that you'll actually apologize and tell him.

When you're sitting on the couch and you pull him onto your lap, it startles him. He shifts around a bit uncomfortably, but it's fine, he'll manage. You tell him that this is what friends do! And since you both are such close friends he doesn't complain when you pull him into your lap, even in front of other people

Eventually, he gets used to it, when you assure him that, this is what friends do- and you're his dearest friend aren't you?

He's used to it. He's trained for it. He could simply be doing some work around the house but the second you pat your lap he drops whatever he's doing, crawling onto your lap like a cat.

He doesn't know any better, so while you're in important meetings with the harbingers he'll simply crawl onto your lap like it's his own personal bed. The other harbingers always stutter in their next words- they just never seem to get used to your little boytoy

Some of the harbingers find it rather amusing, questioning why you've kept him around this long. They've never seen you with one of your boy toys after the first 3 weeks. You simply shrug, perhaps it's his innocence, his naivety to the world..and people, around him. Whatever it is, he proves to be entertaining. Which is why you just can't get rid of him yet.

Cute little kabukimono who ignores any red flags. You following him around whenever you have some free time, or sending one of your henchmen after him whenever you aren't available. What do you mean that's weird? No- you just care for your friend, he's your dearest friend after all! You just wanna make sure nothing bad happens!

Innocent kabukimono who you've quickly learned has no idea of what intimacy is. He doesn't know the first thing about- love making.

Kabukimono who sits on your lap like another day, resting his head back onto your shoulder, you can hear his quiet breaths and whispers as he mumbles and rambles about his day thinking you were listening. You on the other hand were occupied by your own deranged thoughts, ...it's been long enough..hasn't it? You're sure he can handle you- fondling him further..right? You mean he should. You've done so much for him, and he can barely even cook a proper meal for you.

Biting down harshly on his neck while he was leaning it back on your shoulder eliciting gasps and whines from him. He tries grabbing your head, trying to push you away. It hurts! But you're too strong. So he sits there helpless tugging at your hair softly as he lets out little moans as you suck on his neck. He feels heat pool in between his legs... it's so weird..he doesn't like it.

Later that day he stares at himself in the mirror. Examining the big red purple-ish mark you left. Afterward, he questions you about it. Huffing as he asks the reason behind this strange good feeling mark you've left.

You reassure him, it's simply because he's your dearest friend. And you just want people to know that he's yours, he belongs to you. And no one else.

[luveline]

hot bombshell bau!reader flirting and winking at spencer every chance she gets and poor spencer just gets hot and bothered very flustered and blushing😋😋

i love you jade i read ur blog like it's the daily newspaper<33

I love you anon, thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"So," says a voice, low and syrupy as warmth spreads up Spencer's side, "how's my favourite agent?" 

Your perfume a subtle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla alike, sweetness that lingers —and Spencer knows, having thought of you every time he walks past the sugar ring donut stand by the Staples Mill Station for weeks— you put a hand on his shoulder and lean in for a one-armed hug. His skin erupts with goosebumps. 

"Y/N," he says, sounding much too much like a wimp for his own liking. He clears his throat. "When did you get back?" 

He's afraid to look at you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart skips a beat at the state of you, which is to say you look stunning in your dark clothes, a tight cut top that borders unprofessional and a pair of thigh hugging pants that pass the border completely. (He's kidding. Mostly. You're dressed fine. He's a loser, is all.) 

"This morning. They couldn't keep me from you if they tried, handsome. You look good." You disengage from his side. Spencer's relieved and regretful at once. "I love the haircut, they take a little more than you were expecting?" 

"Is it too short?" he asks unsurely. 

"It's perfect."

Spencer's taller than you but he never feels it until you're looking up at him, pretty eyes and quirked lips, permanent amusement in your gaze. "I missed you," you say.

"Y/N," Hotch says as he descends the steps to the bullpen. "We talked about this." 

"Pen and Morgan do it every day." Your eyebrows pinch together. 

Hotch doesn't say anything else, an empty coffee mug in hand as he passes. You don't baulk at his disapproving look, the opposite, sitting on the edge of Morgan's desk to kick your kitten heels gently, a slow back and forth that has Spencer's eyeline pulling down your legs. He shakes it off, but not before you've noticed. 

"You don't mind, do you, babe?" you ask. "My flirting?" 

It'll probably kill him sooner rather than later. "No. Don't mind." 

"'Cus I can stop, I promise. But you're the kind of boy that should be flirted with, you know? And the kind of smart that makes you crazy attractive, which is unfair. It's not like you needed help in that particular department." You lean back as you talk, scrounging around Morgan's things.

"Second shelf," Spencer says. 

You stop your searching to grin at him. Pleased, you reach down to the second drawer of Morgan's desk and find what you'd been looking for, a coveted, half-eaten pack of cherry twizzlers. 

"But we're not like Pen and Morgan," you say, bringing a twizzler to your mouth. 

"We're not?" Spencer asks, confused. He may not summon the necessary charisma to flirt back, but he likes what you have. 

"Nope." You take another bite, chew, leaving Spencer in anticipation. Finally, you swallow, lips curving into an even stickier smile. "'Cus Pen and Morgan are never gonna happen. They're better as friends…" 

You slip down off of Morgan's desk, leaving his twizzlers behind. Spencer has enough sense about him to anticipate your approach. He's proud of himself for the composure he maintains as your footsteps slow. He even takes a step back to follow you, to your abject delight. 

"But we're not just friends, are we?" you ask softly. You lift your chin. He can smell the cherry on you. 

"Y/N, enough," Hotch says from somewhere behind. You refuse to look away, and while Spencer fears his chief's tone, he manages to hold your gaze. "HR will mandate another presentation." 

"It's alright, Hotch," Spencer says. His cheeks are flushed and his palms are clammy, but his voice holds up. "I don't mind." 

"I'm sure you don't." 

"This could all be avoided if we took this somewhere a little more private," you murmur. 

"Enough. I won't tell you again, Y/N. Shouldn't you be helping Penelope with her ViCAP recalibration?" Hotch asks pointedly. 

Spencer takes it for what it is; an effort to separate you from each other before it goes too far. You know it too, rolling your eyes at Spencer like you've a shared secret —Can you believe this guy?— clasping his arm loosely in farewell.

"See you later, Spence." You call him handsome, babe, bub, even sweetheart, but Spence is the worst of all of them because of how you say it, your voice entrenched in pure honey. His heart pangs as you go.  

Hotch lingers by Spencer's side, coffee freshly filled and steaming in rings. "You know, you're getting better," he says sympathetically. 

Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose roughly. "Thanks." 

[fangswbenefits]

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 11th. blaise - mirror sex, body worship.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: writing this was detrimental to my health. blaise is a man. a MAN. you’re having a terrible day, your boyfriend knows what you need to make it better.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, teasing, begging, doggystyle, dirty talk, praise so much praise, body worship, soft dom blaise, pet names, the usual nasty shit you'll find this month.

"Yeah that's what I said...he didn't listen to me, though. Of course."

Parchment crinkled under the weight of your hand, quill scratching faintly as your boyfriends voice hummed in the background—an effortless drawl that filled the room like low music. You barely caught the words, caught up in the mechanical rhythm of  your writing—but that didn't stop him from droning on, stretched out like a relaxed cat on your bed—one leg bent, both hands tucked behind his head, his gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling's quiet expanse.

"And? What happened?" You asked, finally letting the quill drop, grimacing at the ink smudged across your fingers.

"Detention," he said, clearly amused, "cleaning rat barrels for a week."

You managed a smile, but it was small, fleeting—more like a shadow of the real thing. Blaise noticed, of course he did, but he let it linger undisturbed, as if waiting for the right moment to ask what was really wrong. His stories were always an offering, an attempt to pull you from the depths of a day that felt as heavy as the sky before a storm—which usually helped, but today, even he couldn't shake the weight entirely.

You rolled away from your desk, chair wheels creaking until you reached the mirror. There you were, reflected back at yourself—no makeup, hair half-tumbling from the ponytail you'd given up on hours ago, the lines under your eyes telling a story you didn't want to read. You sighed, lifting a hand to touch the flyaway strands, knowing it wouldn't help. You were a bloody disaster.

"What're you lookin' at, baby?" Blaise was behind you before you even realized it, his warmth filling the space behind your chair, his arms snaking around your waist with the same natural ease as breathing. "Did I tell you you look beautiful today?"

You exhaled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in the glass—

"Don't lie, Blaise," you muttered, the exhaustion making your voice heavier than it should've been. "I look a mess."

"Not a lie," he whispered back, his lips so close you could almost taste the mint on his tongue. His hand lifted, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down the side of your face like it was something sacred, like you weren't just a tired girl with too many thoughts. "You're always beautiful...so, so beautiful."

The heat from his words bloomed in your chest, a slow burn, even as the weight of the day pressed heavier. It felt as though the reflection was mocking you—this version of yourself you could barely recognize, worn down by everything that had gone wrong.

"I can tell when something's bothering you," he pressed on, his voice drawing you back, patient and unhurried. His fingers made soft circles on your stomach, waiting, coaxing. "Wanna tell me?"

"Nothing's bothering me...I just.." you shook your head, the words coming out on a breath, too small to carry the weight of what you meant. "I just had a bloody terrible day."

He hummed, thumb grazing your skin. "How terrible?"

"The kind that makes you feel like the universe is against you," you whispered, gaze falling, unable to look at him while your voice cracked. "I'm sorry—I know you wanted to go out tonight, but I just—"

"Shh—hey, don't do that," he interrupted, his fingers tilting your chin, forcing your eyes back to his in the mirror. "I don't care about going out. I care about you. We don't need to be anywhere else. I've got everything I need right here, baby. Okay?"

Merlin—your heart clenched, the ache reminding you just how easy it was to fall in love with him—and how you managed to do so, all over again, every single day. Blaise always had this way of making you feel like the center of the world, even on days when you felt like you were disappearing from it.

A small, trembling smile ghosted across your lips, and you nodded. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He nudged your chin gently, brushing more stray hair from your face—he never once took his fucking eyes off of you. "You're so fucking beautiful, babygirl...how are you all mine..."

A sigh escaped your lips as his fingers moved to massage your shoulders, his lips finding their way back to the curve of your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your skin. The tension in your body began to melt, replaced by something warmer, softer.

"Messy hair, no makeup...you're a fucking dream," he whispered. "Every morning I wake up...and I still can't believe..." his hands trailed down your arms, a slow blaze of fire, grazing over your belly before they curved up your chest. "...that all of this...is all for me..."

Your head tipped back, a soft whimper slipping from your lips as he pressed himself closer. One of his hands slid back up, fingers curling around the base of your throat, his thumb stroking the side of your neck. He groaned softly against your temple, other hand still pawing at your chest.

"Look at you," he rasped as his eyes met yours again in the mirror. You could feel his gaze tracing the outline of his hand wrapped around your throat. "Tell me you know you're beautiful."

Your heart was racing, breaths coming in shallow bursts as the intensity of his touch, his words, filled the room. He was crowding over you, pressed against the back of your chair, his hands insistent but not frantic, like he had all the time in the world—

"I know," you whispered. "You tell me every day..."

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. "Mhm…and I'll keep telling you…because I don't think you get it yet...just how truly beautiful you are…”

Your lashes fluttered, eyes heavy beneath the weight of his gaze as his fingers moved lower, the buttons of your shirt parting effortlessly, baring the delicate lace underneath.

His jaw clenched, hunger flickering behind his eyes, his touch roughening with it. “…and just how lucky I am... to get to touch you like this."

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, your back arched, baring yourself to him with a shivering sigh. His hand around your throat tightened, not too much, just enough to remind you he held you, that in this moment —this skin—belonged to him.

His other hand moved across your chest, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric, kneading, coaxing your heart to race under his palm.

"I'm a better man because of you," he whispered, lips ghosting over the pulse at your neck. “...because you make me want to be."

Your whimper came unbidden, warmth flooding your veins as his eyes never left yours—devouring you through the glass. This wasn't just about touch. It was something Blaise always made sure you felt in this relationship, the thing tethered between you—the fulfilment of a need to be seen and a need to be known.

"Look at you." His lips tilted in a breathy smile, dripping with reverence, with something sacred as his hand roved over your chest, taking his time. "Perfect. So fucking perfect."

Both big hands fell to massage your tits now and a small, broken sound escaped you—helpless against the onslaught, your body betraying your efforts at control. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to stem the flood, but it was useless. Blaise, like this, was unrelenting, determined to make you remember this moment, every whisper, every touch. His voice was an echo you'd hear in your dreams.

"Blaise..." his name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Gods.”

"Open those pretty eyes for me, babygirl..." he purred  as his teeth grazed the curve of your neck. You obeyed with a shiver—your reflection pure chaos — a mess of need and want, heat pooling low in your belly, an ache between your legs you couldn't ignore. Blaise hummed. "I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what I see."

His hands slid lower, skimming the curve of your hips and settling on your thighs. You watched as he moved with deliberation, savouring the way your skin shivered beneath his touch. He shifted your legs wider, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher until it bunched around your waist. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you weren't sure who was falling apart faster—him or you.

"Fuck," you moaned, barely holding onto the sound, feeling it slip past your lips like a breath. "Blaise.."

With a satisfied smile, his eyes flicked to yours and you noted the way his breathing shallowed—admired the way his fingers slipped along the insides of your thighs, tracing the soft skin without haste. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you bit down on your lip, fighting to keep your eyes open.

A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest as he pushed your skirt up further, exposing your underwear in the reflection.

"That's my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. "These thighs...mm, fuck...so soft.."

His fingers dragged back down, agonizingly slow, tracing your thighs again.

You shuddered. You knew just how needy you sounded but gods—"Blaise, please..."

Blaise knew too, and of course he just chuckled, lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, his teeth catching on the fabric there. The nip was gentle at first, but just enough to make you gasp, your hips jerking reflexively—and you watched his eyes flash, lashes fluttering—

"Fuck...these hips," now he was growling, his nails biting into your skin. "The way you roll them...torture, pure torture... just to make me give you what you want..."

Your breath hitched again. You were a squirming mess, now—each fucking word a slow burn that licked at every nerve.

"Is that so bad?" You whispered, though the words barely left your mouth before a soft moan interrupted them. "Making you…give me what I want...?"

His laugh was rougher this time, his breath searing hot against your ear. One hand moved again, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear—and you realized you were holding your fucking breath—meeting his gaze in the mirror, wide and wanting, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

"Not so bad...when I want to give it to you..." his fingers danced over your clothed cunt—light, taunting, threatening to give you everything you craved but holding just shy of it. Your hips rolled again, involuntarily. "But absolutely disastrous," his fingers traced higher, the ache of wanting made your pulse thunder. "...when I'm trying to make you wait."

You whimpered, snuffing a groan in your throat, and he smiled—watching the effect, his jaw falling open when he grazed over your clit through the fabric and you moaned loud—shameless.

"Gods—Blaise, please—" you were so fucking desperate now. Heat scorching your skin. Eyes squeezed shut. He was going to kill you, you were sure of it. “No more teasing—“

"Eyes open." He husked, bringing one hand back up to cup your jaw. "You close them and I'll stop. Keep being good for me, baby..."

You whinged—meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, lust blown pupils swallowing his irises. You watched yourself—his arms curled around you, strong and firm—long, slender fingers finally, fucking finally, giving you what you want—slipping under your underwear, fingertips kissing the sensitive lips of your throbbing cunt.

"Good girl...so good for me..." he muttered, slicking a single digit between your folds, grazing your clit. That did it—blinded with relief, you whinged, moaning deep in your chest. "Oh fuck, you're so wet...you need this, don't you, baby..."

"Yes—Gods—" you held his eyes in the mirror, hips jerking toward his touch. "Need it...need you..."

"So sensitive f'me..." he whispered in your ear, brushing the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. He kissed at your jaw. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that...that you need me..."

"Fuck—I do—always—" the words bled out, unfiltered. "Always need you."

Blaise shuddered, you could feel his hips rocking gently against the back of the chair as his fingers found your clit, indefinitely this time, and began drawing tight, frantic circles over it. Your back crested, your head falling back just slightly before you remembered what he said and returned your gaze to his in the mirror—he was watching you, body crowding yours like he was preparing a meal—and you spread your legs wider, noting the entire mess he'd made of you in minutes.

"Beautiful," he cooed, jaw tensing as you gripped his wrist—one hand shifting to grope your chest. "Messy girl...m'dying to get inside you..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Blaise—baby—please..."

Wetness soaked your thighs—coated his fingers as he dipped lower and pushed two inside you, crooking them deep. The reaction was involuntary—you cried out, ground your hips into his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, wanting—no, needing more. He groaned, squeezing your breast harder than you're sure he'd intended—teeth sinking into your shoulder in a futile attempt to compose himself.

"Fucking hell—that's it, baby—" his thumb twirled your clit, fingers driving deep—bliss burned your eyes, and you moaned. "Soaked and still so fucking tight...fuck.."

"M'gonna—I need you—" you were babbling, lost in sensation, coherent thoughts banished to the perimeters of your mind. "Inside—pleasepleaseplease—need you—"

"Cum first," his hand on your breast slipped up, tangling through your hair and nudging your face toward his—his lips found yours, soft and tender. "Wanna' make you feel good..."

Pleasure flooded you, muscles collapsing as you succumbed to it—Blaise kissed you again, holding you there, tongue delving into your mouth while he rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumped his fingers deeper.

"I...oh, Gods—already feel s'good..." you moaned into him, and he jerked you harder to his body, tongue massaging yours while his plush lips worked over your mouth. "Mm—fuck—s'good—"

He groaned. "Mhm—cum for me."

And then you did—every nerve in your body ignited at once. The obscene, wet sounds of him pumping his fingers into you filled the room, a rhythm that matched the frantic pulse in your ears. His mouth smothered the desperate cries of pleasure that fought to break free as your body convulsed, writhing against him. Your hips bucked, helplessly seeking more, fingers digging into his wrist like anchors as your entire world spun wildly out of control. He was both your rock and your undoing—keeping you tethered to earth while hurling you into the stars.

It felt like you were suspended in that ecstasy forever, the air leaving your lungs in shattered gasps, until, at last, your breathing found its rhythm again. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, his own breath shaky, eyes dark with hunger. He brought his slick-coated fingers to your lips, pressing them past, and you groaned as you took him in, suckling greedily.

"You like that?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against your spine. You moaned in response, your tongue swirling around his digits, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of yourself. His other hand moved, urgently, his belt coming undone and echoing through the room as he freed himself, groaning, "Fuck."

Blaise had lost his composure completely—you didn't need to look at him to know it. In an instant, you were on your feet, his hands pulling you up as he kicked your chair out of the way, rolling into the wall with a thud. You turned your head to look at it but his lips crashed into yours, both hands cradling your face as he sank to his knees, dragging you down with him. The hardwood floor beneath you was cold, but his touch—his touch was a wildfire, scorching every inch of your skin, setting your blood to boil.

You moved instinctively and gasped as your fingers found him, warm and hard in your palm, twitching at your touch. He growled low in his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you stroked him, kneeling together on the floor, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. The moment stretched, unbearably tense, until with a swift motion, he spun you around, turning you to face the mirror.

His hands were everywhere—on your hips, sliding down your thighs, grazing the curve of your waist—pulling your skirt higher as he met your eyes over your shoulder in the reflection—

"Look at yourself," his fingers tightened on your hips, guiding you back against him, his length slicking between your thighs, grazing against your heat. "See what you do to me."

You gasped, melting into him, tightening your thighs around his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Blaise exhaled, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

"Blaise—fuck—please..." your cunt clenched with anticipation, heat at your cheeks as you watched yourself in the mirror, desperately trying to tip your hips so he'd slide in. "Please, fuck me—"

Your voice was ruined. Music to his ears. Blaise could never deny that begging.

"Shit, baby..." he pressed in, leaning you forward until you were resting on your elbows in front of the mirror—seething as his girth stretched you open—splitting you wide in a way that made your eyes roll. He pulsed at your entrance, taking his time, letting you bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, his were lips parted, chest working with broken breath. "So goddamn tight..."

"Fuck," you moaned, unbridled, his hands bruising your hips as he picked up the pace. "Yes—mm—Gods, yes—"

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Blaise was the most patient man you'd ever met, until he wasn't. He groaned, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps—you were captivated, unable to think or speak or do anything other than watch—fire stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge—you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself before gracing your ass with a soft smack, piercing your cervix.

"Sexy little thing. All fucking mine." He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. "You like that, hm? Watching yourself get fucked?"

You whimpered, neck aching with the force of his grip, nails digging into your palms as he drilled you. The switch in his demeanour was dizzying. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide—you could hardly focus on his words—

"Yes!" You managed. "Fuck—yes—"

He groaned, fucking faster—his gaze ravaged you, wandering over every inch of your reflection before stopping at your jiggling chest. His hand slipped down from your hair to grasp a breast—squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in his huge palm, his other hand snaking down around your thigh to swirl over your clit, and you choked—a noise wrenched from your lungs far louder than you'd have liked.

"Fuck—fuck—" his hips moved erratically. He was getting close. So were you. "Tight—squeeze me s'good—"

You whinged. He swirled his fingers faster. "Blaise—m'gonna—cum—"

It descended upon you—the promise of oblivion—as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, entire body shaking with the pistoning of your boyfriends hips.

His eyes were still on yours, reverence inside them, worship.

He grunted. "Yes—fuck, cum on my cock, baby—let me feel you—"

It was a command that shattered all thought, a primal cry of ecstasy that ripped through you, overtaking every nerve, every vein, every muscle in your body. Your limbs trembled, thighs shaking as the pleasure coursed through you, molten, burning under your skin. You were less than halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth—barely picking up on your boyfriends groans and moans in your ear as you squeezed and milked his cock through your climax, fucking you deep until he couldn't take it anymore and erupted as well—pouring his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty.

Swallowing hard, you collapsed onto the floor, your chest heaving as he pulled out, leaving you breathless and trembling. His hands, still warm from the heat of your skin, gently held your arm as he sank down beside you. Without a word, he tugged you against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a calming rhythm against your back. His fingers threaded softly through your hair, untangling the remnants of tension as the two of you lay there, catching your breath.

After a few moments, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, the touch so tender it made you melt all over again. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving your lips, all the stress that had plagued you earlier dissipating into nothing.

"Maybe I should have bad days more often." You smiled through an exhale.

"If this is what it takes to fix them," he murmured with a smirk, his voice deep and gravelly from exertion, "then I'm more than willing to be your remedy, anytime."

You hummed, a huff of a laugh slipping out as you traced lazy shapes on his chest—inhaling his scent with each breath. You loved this man. Loved that he never failed to make you feel so goddamn beautiful, so special, so needed.

"Seriously though," you whispered after a while, your cheek pressed to his chest, "thank you. For this. For knowing exactly what I needed."

His fingers stilled in your hair, a quiet hum of understanding in his throat.

"I always know what you need, baby," he said, his voice soft, filled with something more than just desire, something warmer. "And I'll always be here to give it to you."

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 3)

When you woke up, it wasn't that much later. Maybe an hour later at most, which was normal for you. You weren't a heavy sleeper, but to be fair, hard to find any heavy sleepers in the foster system. You also hadn't moved an inch from your position during your light sleep. The bed almost looked like it was made, except for the small imprint of a person on top of the soft blankets.

The room was the same as it was before, the door was closed and the curtains drawn, none of the foster parents came into the room after they left you to unpack. Well, "unpack". You didn't really do that, you kept your clothes inside your backpack and the backpack safely tucked under the bed.

Just... precation.

The house was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you immediatly shuffled over to the door and opened to try and pin point where anyone could be. It wasn't hard, you could faintly hear low voices downstairs, where you think it's the kitchen. You don't really remember much from the tour.

You weren't sure what to do now, but you just closed the door behind you quietly as your feet, padded by only your socks since you left your sneakers by the bed, gently made their way back down stairs. The voices only got clearer as you made your way down, getting closer to the kitchen that smelled extremelly good, close enough, in fact, that you flinched for a second as soon as you heard a loud, booming laugh.

"Oi, ya prick!! Stop that!" The scottish guy, the werewolf, yelled, laughing.

"Shhhh, the chick...!" The harpy quickly reprimended, even tho he was also laughing, much quieter.

"Not a chick, are they, Garrick?" A low, low voice sounded it out, and due to process of elimination, it could only be the wraith. Simon, if you remeber correctly. He looked so serious when you first saw him, but his tone now sounded just amused.

"Oh, please, you get what i mean..." The harpy scoffs, sounding amused as well. "What do you call a human chick?"

"Not a chick, that's for sure." Johnny laughs.

"Isn't it just like, 'baby'?" John suggests, apperantly shrugging a bit.

"I'll call 'er pup!" The werewolf immediatly ignores John's words, only for them all to start laughing.

"Such a little fledgling..." Simon sighs after they all quiet down a little. "I'm not sure how to take care of a human..."

"Ey, big guy, we'll learn!" Johnny smiles easily, giving one of his mates a heavy pat on the back. "I mean... wee lass looks frail as hell, but... we had babies before. Be a bit more confident!"

"No, I get Simon. I'm worried we might overlook their needs accidentaly." The dragon sighs. "I think I got it, but it still worries me."

You fidget a little on the wall you were leaning against. You wish you could sooth their worries. You didn't really need anything special, humans were adaptive. Very adaptive. You'll fit in, one way or another.

"You heard the social worker." Simon grunts, the sound alerting you for a second. "Call if we need anything."

You can hear the loud scoff John lets out at that, and for a second, the smell of smoke reached your nose.

"I don't need help to take care of my hoard."

The growl made your body instinctively lock up, quiet breathing catching on your throat as your eyes widen for a second. It's only when Johnny and Kyle laugh that you manage to calm down a little.

"Daddy Price is not one to take advice from others, huh?" Kyle laughs quietly, smooth and gentle voice that only makes the provocation sounds worse.

"Bastard never was." Johnny laughs back, shaking his head in amusement.

"That's it, shut it, the both of you." John growls once again, quieter this time, not really mad, just annoyed at best. "Besides, apperantly, i do know better. That woman brought the hatchling here in this cold wearing only a fucking light jacket."

"Dinner is ready." Simon's heavy voice announces, interrupting the banter. "Who's gonna call the fledgling?"

"ME!"

"I can go."

Both Johnny and Kyle glared at eachother as they spoke at the same time, which only made Simon grunt.

"Kyle can go. Fucking mutt being all loud like this is gonna scare off the fledgling."

Another growl sounded out, this one, different from John's. This one was Johnny's, and made you terrifed all the same as you made your way to the living room on the other side of the stairs, your pace just a little bit desperate thanks to the growl and the fight.

Thanks to your human nature, you couldn't really tell it was more of a playful growl than an annoyed growl. (They were also not figthing, that's just the way they spoke with eachother, but you just got here, don't expect to know that yet).

Your eyes fell into the cozy living room. It looked... mostly like normal living rooms, but you could still see some kind of... nest thing to the side, close to the fireplace, with confortable pillows and blankets. The couches also had a lot of them. You didn't know they liked confort that much, but you suppose it's not... a bad thing.

"They're not-!"

You startle immediatly at the half-shout, turning around to make eye contact with a slightly desperate Kyle, giant wings opened in despair as his feathers perked up. As you both stare at eachother in alarm, his wings started to close behind him again, feathers still looking just a bit frazzled.

"Oh, hatchling, don't scare me like that..." He crooned softly, crooned, eyes going all gentle as he approached.

The croon caught you a bit off guard as you kept your guard up, eyes wide still looking at his direction. You didn't hear these weird noises often, even if you had basically only hybrid classmates at school. The croon sounded weird, but also... soft. Conforting, you could say.

"I though you had left." He murmur quietly, kneeling in front of you to try and get closer to your height. It didn't work very well, as he was still bigger even tho he was kneeling. If anything, it only made you more scared. "You're a quiet little thing, huh? Don't be scared, baby, i'm safe..." He crooned again, all soft and gooey.

Like he wasn't being all snarky and ironic with his mates just seconds ago.

Freaking... wolf in sheep clothing........... and he's not even the werewolf.

You finally managed to calm down a bit, as you breathed in quietly and nodded at him, curling just a little bit into your own body. You could see his wings shuffling at his sides, hands opening for a second before they were forced into fists quickly (before they could reach for you).

"We have dinner ready, sweetie. You'll like Si's food, he's a very good cook. Well, we all are." He smiles a bit, like he was boosting himself as a little joke. "It's cold, so we made stew. It's chicken noddle stew, do you like it, baby?"

The... baby voice, the very subtle baby voice was certainly... embarrassing. Tho, you still nodded quietly at his gentle and quiet tone, making him smile a bit bigger.

"Let's go eat then, uh?"

He murmured gently, giant hand with talons closing around your much smaller hand, so small it was completely enveloped by his warmth. You didn't really want to hold his hand, but he didn't give you much option, as he got up, still slightly bend down, and gently tugged you with him to the kitchen.

You followed.

[sadnymi]

Alibi.

Slytherin boys x reader ( platonic) , Theodore Nott x reader ( not so platonic)

Summary: Summary: You accidentally got yourself involved in some Slytherin boys' drama.

I was deep in the forest, kneeling on a bed of pine needles, my hands clasped in prayer. The air was still, the only sound was the whispering of leaves above. I was right in the middle of asking for some divine intervention in my life when, out of nowhere, something heavy crashed into me from behind.

I was flattened to the ground with a shriek, my thoughts of divinity abruptly replaced with panic. "Merlin's beard! What in the name of—" I twisted around, ready to fend off whatever forest creature had decided to tackle me.

But it wasn’t a creature. It was Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins. And he was bleeding. Profusely.

He groaned, clutching his side. "Sorry," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry? You're bleeding all over me!" I squealed, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy and I was too flustered.

"Calm down, will you?" he said, his voice surprisingly steady for someone who looked like they'd been in a fight with a hippogriff and lost. "It's just a little blood."

"A little blood?" I shrieked again. "It looks like you were stabbed! Wait, were you stabbed?"

He winced. "Yeah, probably. Can you stop screaming? You're making my head hurt."

"Stop screaming? You literally fell out of nowhere, bleeding to death on top of me! Of course, I'm screaming!" I finally managed to wriggle out from under him, kneeling beside him in the dirt. "Who did this to you?"

He groaned again, his face pale. "Don't know. Didn't exactly stop to ask."

I fumbled in my bag for my wand, hands shaking. "Okay, okay, just... just hold still. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding." I pointed my wand at his wound, but then my mind went blank. "Uh, what's the spell again?"

Theodore groaned, but this time it sounded more exasperated than pained. "Episkey. It's Episkey."

"Right, right," I muttered, feeling my face heat up. "Episkey!" The wound didn't heal completely, but at least the bleeding stopped.

Just then, we heard a rustling in the bushes. I turned, ready to scream again, and out stumbled none other than Mattheo Riddle, his face splattered with blood.

I let out another scream, louder this time. "What is it with Slytherins and blood today?"

Theodore winced. "Can you stop screaming? You're going to attract every creature in this forest."

Mattheo, looking a mix of annoyed and amused, glanced between us. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? Why are you screaming?"

"That's what I want to know!" I said, throwing my hands up. "First, he crashes into me, bleeding all over, and now you show up looking like you’ve been in a bloodbath."

Theodore groaned again, trying to sit up. "Mattheo, could you do us a favor and not kill her with another heart attack? She's already a mess."

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Calm down. This isn't my blood." He knelt beside Theodore, checking his wound. "How bad is it?"

Theodore waved him off. "Don't worry. The boy who did this is already dead. I killed him after he stabbed me."

My eyes went wide, and I started to hyperventilate. "You killed a boy? You actually killed someone? Oh my God, we're all going to Azkaban! I was just praying, and now I'm an accessory to murder! What if they find the body? What if they use Veritaserum on us? I can't go to Azkaban, I haven't even finished my O.W.L.s! Oh God, oh God, oh God—"

Theodore, clearly at the end of his patience, slapped his hand over my mouth. "Can you please stop talking for one minute? You're not helping."

I kept mumbling behind his hand, my eyes wide with panic. He glared at me. "Why can't you just shut up for once?" He looked at Mattheo. "A little help here?"

Mattheo smirked, watching the scene unfold. "You seem to have it under control, Theo."

"Seriously," Theodore grumbled, pulling his hand away. "We're in the middle of a forest, I'm bleeding, and she's having a meltdown about Azkaban. Can this day get any worse?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I was just praying for some divine intervention, not a bloody crime scene!"

"Well, you got it," Theodore said dryly. "Now help me up, and let's get out of here before something else happens."

As we struggled to get Theodore to his feet, I couldn't help but mutter a quick prayer under my breath. "Please, if anyone's listening, just get us out of this mess."

Theodore chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Just as we managed to get Theodore to his feet, the forest seemed to come alive with movement.

From the shadows emerged a group of masked men, all dressed in ominous black cloaks. My heart sank. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Theodore groaned. "What now?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed. "This day just keeps getting better."

I had a full-blown breakdown. "Who are they? What do they want? Why is this happening?" I shrieked, clutching Theodore's arm as the masked men closed in.

The leader of the group, his voice muffled by the mask, pointed at me. "Grab the girl!"

I promptly hid behind Theodore, using him as a human shield. "Why me? I don’t even know what’s going on! I was just praying! Praying! I didn't ask for this! Why would anyone want to grab me? I don't know anything! I'm not important! I was just trying to—"

The leader looked slightly puzzled. "You must be important if you're here."

"What?" I spluttered. "No, this is just some weird punishment because I sneaked out of Hogwarts! I was having a terrible week and needed some divine intervention, so I came to the forest to pray for guidance and peace and—"

"I don't give a fuck," the leader snapped, gesturing to his men. "Grab her!"

The masked men advanced, and Theodore stepped in front of me. "No one will touch her," he said, his wand raised despite his injury.

Mattheo mirrored his stance, wand also at the ready.

I peeked out from behind Theodore, still rambling. "Seriously, this is all a misunderstanding. I was just praying because I failed my Potions test, and Professor Snape looked like he wanted to turn me into a newt, and then my cat got sick, and I just needed some clarity in my life, so I thought, 'Why not go to the forest and pray?' But then Theo crashed into me, bleeding everywhere, and now you guys show up looking like Death Eaters on a budget! This is just a cosmic joke, right?"

The leader looked exasperated. "Shut her up."

One of the masked men tried to grab me, but Theodore and Mattheo both fired off stunning spells, sending the attacker flying back.

Theodore turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes serious. "You need to stop talking now."

I nodded, clamping my mouth shut, but my mind was still racing. "This has to be some kind of punishment," I whispered. "Why else would this be happening? Maybe I angered a forest spirit or something."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Or maybe it's just bad luck. Now, please, stay quiet and let us handle this."

The leader, looking frustrated, signaled for the rest of his men to attack. "Get them all!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying silently. "Please, let this be over soon. And if we survive, I promise I'll never sneak out of Hogwarts again. Or pray in the forest. Or—"

Before I could finish my desperate plea, a figure appeared from the shadows and stabbed the leader in the chest. The leader collapsed, revealing none other than Lorenzo Berkshire, better known as Enzo, looking out of breath and slightly bewildered.

"Sorry, guys," Enzo panted, wiping the dagger on his sleeve. "There was this dragon—well, maybe it was a big bird. Hard to tell in the dark.“

Mattheo and Theodore wasted no time, seizing the moment of confusion. They grabbed the nearest masked men and swiftly dispatched them with a combination of spells and physical blows. The remaining attackers fled into the darkness, clearly not eager to meet the same fate as their leader.

Enzo, looking around at the chaos, spotted me and raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. Is this Y/N from Charms class? What are you doing out here?"

Before I could launch into my explanation, Theodore sighed and muttered, "Here we go again."

"I was just praying," I began "Well, I had the worst week ever. First, I failed my Potions test, then my cat got sick, and I just thought maybe if I could get some peace in the forest—"

Theo turned looked me dead in the eyes then slapped his hand over my mouth, his expression one of exasperated patience. "I swear, if I hear one more word about praying or forest spirits... or Potions tests or your cat, I'm going to lose it."

I gazed up at him, ready to argue, but then something struck me. His eyes. They were a striking shade of blue, filled with intensity and a hint of something softer, something...beautiful. I blinked, momentarily speechless.

Enzo, clearly amused by the whole situation, leaned over to Mattheo. "Is she always like this?"

Mattheo smirked. "Pretty much."

Theodore, still holding his hand over my mouth, looked at me with a mix of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite place. I nodded slowly, my panic subsiding slightly as I got lost in those mesmerizing eyes.

Finally, Theodore removed his hand, and I took a deep breath, determined not to start rambling again. "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet."

"Thank Merlin," Theodore muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Enzo clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that we've got that sorted, how about we get out of this forest before any more dragons show up?"

As we started to move, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Enzo, there's no dragon out there, you idiot!"

Enzo turned to me. "And how do you know that?"

"Because dragons don't just wander around the Forbidden Forest chasing random students!" I snapped. "They’re kept in the Dragon Reserve, or did you sleep through that part of Care of Magical Creatures?"

Enzo raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what about that time Hagrid smuggled a baby dragon into his hut? Ever thought about that?"

I scoffed. "That was a one-time thing! And it wasn't even a fully-grown dragon, it was a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling! There's a huge difference!"

Enzo crossed his arms, a playful smirk on his face. "Well, maybe it was an escaped Ridgeback, then. You can't rule out the possibility."

I threw my hands up in frustration. "Escaped Ridgeback? Do you hear yourself? The chances of running into a dragon in the middle of the night are practically zero! You're more likely to find a Blast-Ended Skrewt out here than a dragon!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but Theodore swiftly grabbed me and pulled me away. I couldn't help but look at his strong, albeit bloody, hand on my waist, leaving a bloodstain on my skirt.

As I glanced from his hand up to his face, I couldn't resist commenting, "You've got a pretty good grip for someone who was just stabbed."

Enzo and Mattheo burst into laughter, and Theodore shot them a deadly look. They quieted down, though still wearing amused expressions.

Theodore leaned in close, his voice low and intense. "You will not say a word about what you saw tonight, understood?"

His proximity made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. Dirty thoughts flitted through my mind, and I mentally pleaded, Please, God, I didn't mean to have them. You shouldn't have made him that pretty if you didn't want me to have them.

"Y/N," Theodore said, his voice breaking through my reverie. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yes. No talking about tonight. Got it."

He brushed the dust from my shirt and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture sent a shiver down my spine.

"You two need a moment alone, or can we get moving now?" Mattheo said.

Theodore shot him another glare. "We're moving."

Enzo, called after us. "Hey, Y/N, if you see a dragon on the way back, be sure to let me know!"

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "If I see a dragon, I'll make sure it eats you first!"