#Sleep inducing items

[onefite]

The Best Products for a Restful Sleep

The Best Products for a Restful Sleep Introduction Are you tossing and turning at night, struggling to drift off into a peaceful slumber? You’re not alone. A good night’s sleep can feel like a distant dream for many, but it doesn’t have to be this way. With the right tools at your disposal, you can transform your bedtime routine and welcome restful nights. From soothing gadgets to comfortable…

[colloquialcolors]

me, a fool who is subject to a bit of russian roulette every time i drink coffee as to whether or not a wave of anxiety will upend me and fuck me up for a bit, odds worsened if I'm already stressed: well, looks like itll be a late night trying to get something done for work before morning, im a litle tired, lets have some insta coffee! this will not backfire.

me, still a fool, 30 minutes later, vibrating slightly: hmmmmmmmmmmm i cant believe this may have backfired.

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[writers-potion]

Hi I really love all the writing tips you give! I'm a fanfic writer myself and your tips have helped me out so much with writing <3 I was wondering if you had any tips on how to write any kind of flashback scenes? Like ways to lead up to it or where a character is like having a headache and then BOOM they get a glimpse of a flashback or something. I struggle so much with this ;-;

Ideas for Flashback Scenes

Hey there! Thanks for the question! Since flashbacks are about reminding a character of a memory they haven't been thinking about, here are some ideas for triggering a memory!

Hinge on an Object/Person

Coming across an object or person from the past can call a dusty memory to the forefront. 

Maybe your character is going through the attic or clearing out an unused shelf. It can be a friend returning an item that they’d lost. 

Dreaming/Semi-Dreaming

A dream is a product of taking snippets from our actual life and putting them together in weird ways. A character may dream about something in the past, wake up, then recall the memory more clearly, using the dream snippet as the starting point.

Similarly, they may dream briefly as they doze off, then wake up to have a “fuller” flashback. 

Deja-Vu

A deja-vu would be most natural if the memory being recalled is set somewhere the character goes to on a day-to-day basis (like the supermarket or the cobbled walkway in front of their house, etc.)

A repeated action (cashier checking out items), a familiar scenery, or a familiar sound will trigger a similar memory, maybe even set in the same location. 

Mid-Conversation/Trigger Words 

Certain words or voices can be triggers of memory. You can have a moment where the character pauses for a moment to think, “wait, I think I’ve heard that phrase somewhere…” 

The other character asking them a question can also trigger a memory in the process of trying to come up with an answer. 

Trigger words can appear on road signs or on book covers, etc. You can try describing the font/color of the word and link it to a snapshot of the memory being recalled. 

The "Aha!" Moment 

This is where the character is doing essentially nothing (like standing in the shower, staring off into the ceiling, etc). It can even be when they’ve lied down trying to sleep, when something suddenly just jumps into mind. 

Provide some context through internal dialogue, where the character is either thinking about something that they’re worried about or an event that left an impression on them that day, etc. 

Being in Danger/Near-Death Moments

This is similar to how a character’s life plays out before their eyes right before they die. 

When a character is in danger, their brains will start firing in ways that it usually wouldn’t, triggering a flashback. 

A flashback can be induced by shock, a loud bang, explosion, etc. when the character goes momentarily numb. 

Flashback Under Intoxication

If your character is drunk, on drugs, or taking medication that impacts their cognitive abilities, they may start triggering memories that have long been buried. 

However, the flashback scene in this case will have some unusual aspects, and will be prone to being warped or even fabricated in some parts.

[ma1dita]

buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion. 

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs. 

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?” 

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?” 

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke. 

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind. 

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong. 

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…” 

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing. 

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

 I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,�� you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two. 

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[audacityinblack]

I Can't Sleep Because Everything Hurts and I Live In Satan's Sweaty Grundle Hair

A good number of my health problems affect and are affected by the quality of my sleep. Which, as of right now, is shit, partially because I live in the Deep South in a roach-motel apartment with no A/C while having hot flashes and SSRI-induced heat sensitivity, and partially because my musculoskeletal structure resembles an abstract mixed-media sculpture.

I am thus requesting aid on a quest to procure some items to assist with chronic pain and overheating at night.

I have a wishlist with items here:

I'll also be looking for what I can find locally, and as always I'll need funding for food and daily needs.

cshpp: $audacenoire vnm: @ audacenoire pypl: paypal.com/audacenoire kf: ko-fi.com/audacenoire

[chvoswxtch]

i had an idea for matt but idk if it was good but reader who is matt’s neighbor and she always drops stuff off for him like a new first aid kit and food because she knows he’s daredevil and matt has no idea who does it till he catches her one day

like super fluffy

hi nonnie!

I actually LOVED this idea and thought it was super cute, so thank you so much for requesting it! 💘

warning: slight angst, cavity inducing fluff word count: 2.7k

[part two]

care packages

The first time it happened, Matt hadn’t thought much of it. He simply thought he’d placed an order that he had forgotten about, tossed the package containing a first aid kit and other items into his bathroom, and called it a day. Ever since taking down Fisk, the caseload at Nelson and Murdock had nearly quadrupled, and all the remaining crime lords in Hell’s Kitchen were competing for the vacant throne. Needless to say, Matt hadn’t been sleeping more than usual, and if you asked him what day it was, he probably couldn’t even tell you.

But then it happened again. And again. And again. And again.

Every couple of weeks, a new package arrived at Matt’s door, and the contents varied with each box. Some of them contained first aid kits, bottles of ibuprofen, other over the counter medications, ice packs, epsom salts, and various other supplies. Other times there were carefully packaged homemade dishes and freshly baked treats. Foggy and Karen both swore it wasn’t them, and even inspected the packages on Matt’s behalf. There wasn’t ever a note left, or anything written on the boxes, so none of them could figure out where they were coming from. Foggy lit up like a child on Christmas morning every time Matt entered the office with a new batch of goodies, and Matt couldn’t deny how nice it was to have a break from all the takeout. Whoever was leaving the packages was an excellent cook, and an incredibly skilled baker, but not knowing who was leaving the packages or why was driving Matt absolutely insane. 

Between both of his hectic lives, he didn’t have much time to investigate where the packages were coming from. He had asked his neighbors on a whim if they had seen anything, but they didn’t have a clue either. On the rare occasion when Matt did have an off day, he camped out on his couch in anticipation, hoping the next care package would arrive while he was home. 

But it never did. 

Karen had suggested leaving his business card taped to his front door, making the argument that it had his name and phone number on it in case whoever it was felt brave enough to contact him. But Matt was hesitant, because he wasn’t sure if the person leaving the care packages was leaving them for him, or for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and the latter made him nervous. He had no idea if they had made the connection, and he didn’t want to make it for them. 

For two months, Matt drove himself completely crazy trying to solve the mystery. 

By some miracle, or the grace of God, Matt was home at a normal time one Thursday evening. He was in the kitchen loosening his tie and reaching for a beer in the fridge when he smelled it. A familiar scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that had been infused with cinnamon and nutmeg. The exact same chocolate chip cookies that had been left in front of his door four times in the past two months. The ones Foggy had dubbed, “crack cookies”. They were, in his defense, highly addictive.

Matt instantly froze, focusing solely on the sound of light footsteps approaching his door from the side of the hallway by the stairwell. The person’s heartbeat was steady, and they were humming softly to themselves as they bent down to place the package directly in front of Matt’s door. Matt abruptly slammed his fridge shut, racing towards his front door to fling it open like a madman, nearly tearing it off the hinges in the process and earning a shocked gasp from you as you were still knelt in front of his door.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, noting the sharp uptick in rhythm of your heart rate as you stared wide eyed up at him, fingers gripping tightly onto the sides of the container. For a moment, neither of you said anything, until the scent of cortisol creeping into your bloodstream snapped Matt back into focus.

“Are…are you the person that’s been leaving these?”

Letting out a shaky breath, you swallowed thickly as you gave a slight nod of your head.

“I…um…yeah.”

Your voice was timid and quiet as it came out, and there was something familiar about it. There was also something incredibly familiar about your scent, but Matt couldn’t quite place it. Your heart was thundering loudly in Matt’s ears, and he could hear the anxiety in every shuddering breath you took in. As his tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips, he slowly extended his hand out towards you.

“Do you…will you come in?”

Glancing between Matt’s outstretched hand and the dish in your own, you stared up at him silently for a moment. It suddenly occurred to him that his reaction might have made you more tense than the fact that you had been caught, and he pulled his lips into a gentle half smile.

“I’m not upset. I just…want to talk to you, if that’s alright?”

His words seem to put you at ease, and you carefully placed your hand into his own, allowing him to pull you up to your feet. Matt liked how soft your hand felt in his own, and he reluctantly let go to step back to grant you space, gesturing for you to come inside. After closing his door, he followed you cautiously into his living room, tuning all of his senses into you as you turned around to face him while still clutching the dish in your hands. There was something recognizable about you, but Matt for the life of him couldn’t place what it was.

“Um…I guess the obvious first question is…why you’re leaving all these care packages?”

Matt kept his voice even and gentle, not wanting you for a second to think that he was upset. As far as he could tell, you were leaving them with genuine intentions, and while that warmed his heart, he still wanted to know why. He caught the way you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth and tilted your head to stare down at the dish in your hands, taking in a deep, shaky breath before answering.

“Because you saved my life.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly in surprise, cocking his head to the side slightly as he took a step closer towards you and fixed his gaze in your direction with an expression of confusion. 

“I…I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve represented you-”

“You were wearing a different suit.”

Matt’s entire body instantly went rigid. You did know who he was. Panic started to rise in his chest, and his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with some kind of lie or excuse to protect his identity.

“I…I don’t…I t-think you must have me confused with someone else-”

“Those men didn’t just want to rob me. They wanted to hurt me. They followed me home from that bar and pulled me into that alley. If you…hadn’t shown up when you did, they probably would’ve killed me, or left me there after they did what they really wanted to. I…I’m honestly not sure which would’ve been worse.”

Matt stilled hearing the way your voice trembled, tasting the fear that built in the corners of your eyes as the memory sent a shiver cascading down your spine. Suddenly it all clicked into place. That’s why he remembered you. He recognized your voice because he remembered hearing your frenzied cries for help from the rooftop. He recalled the scent of you lingering beneath his nose while he held you comfortingly to his chest as you gripped onto his shoulders, begging him not to leave you alone in the dark. After taking care of the men that had attacked you, he’d waited with you until the cops came, doing his best to keep you calm and reassuring you that you were safe. 

Your name tumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

“Y/N.”

He remembers asking for it that night. He remembers repeating it back to you soothingly, enjoying the way it tasted on his tongue while wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. He remembers the sweet melody of your voice as you thanked him endlessly, and the way you struggled to let go of his hand once the police arrived and he had to disappear into the darkness.

He noted the way your lips tugged into the faintest of smiles as you nodded.

“You remembered.”

Matt had wanted to find you, as himself, to offer you legal representation if you wanted to build a case. But with things being so hectic lately, he never got the chance. Another wave of confusion settled over his features when he took another step forward towards you. 

“Wait, but how did you-”

“I live in this building. I saw you on the roof about a week later.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly at your words, giving a slight nod of his head to encourage you to continue. 

“I was up there kinda late one night. There was a lunar eclipse that was supposed to be visible at a certain time, and I wanted to see it. I saw you. You disappeared through that door on the roof, and I thought it just went to a stairwell, but none of the stairwells I found led to that same door. I kinda put it together that it only led to your apartment…and it wasn’t that hard to figure out which one was yours from there.”

“So…you didn’t…know that I was-”

“No. I didn’t know who you were, not really. I never saw you again after that. I just…you looked like you were hurt that night. I wanted to do something…something to help you. I felt like I owed you.”

Matt pursed his lips as he shook his head quickly, letting a dry chuckle escape his mouth.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you my life.”

Matt paused at the sincerity in your voice, noticing that it came out a lot firmer as you spoke those words. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides as you let out a soft sigh, turning around to place the dish of cookies on his coffee table.

“Look, I’m sorry if I…I freaked you out or anything. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to do something nice for you since you saved me. I figured you probably go through a lot of first aid kits and don’t have much time to cook with your busy night job.”

Matt chuckled softly as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, placing his hands on his hips as he followed your movements.

“That’s an understatement. Can I…can I ask…why you didn’t say anything? I mean, you never knock or leave a note or anything.”

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and shrugged lightly as you fiddled with a ring around your finger.

“I told you, I didn’t wanna freak you out. I’m sure you wear the mask for a reason. I…wanted to respect your privacy. Look, you don’t owe me anything, certainly not an explanation. You don’t have to tell me anything at all, and I would never tell anyone about this, I swear.”

The steady, strong rhythm of your heartbeat had Matt’s chest swelling with gratitude. He knew you were telling the truth. 

“I believe you.”

There was a faint smile pulling at your lips as you stared at him, and Matt desperately wanted to know what you saw, and what you were thinking. He didn’t think it was a coincidence someone like you had fallen into his lap. He didn’t believe in coincidences. But he did believe in divine intervention. What were the odds of him saving your life, being your neighbor, and the recipient of your unwavering kindness and genuine understanding? 

“I…I’m not a doctor, or a medical professional by any means, but I do know my way around a first aid kit. I’m also a horrible insomniac, so I’m usually awake at ungodly hours throughout the night. If you ever…need…or want any help, I just live a floor down. I’m in 5C.”

“I…thank you. And thank you for all of the care packages.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Matt felt his cheeks heat up at the candor in your voice. He didn’t get thanked often for what he did every night, not that the praise was his main motivator, but they were still two words he didn’t hear all that much. The people he took down certainly weren’t thanking him for sending them to prison, and sometimes the people he saved were in too much shock to speak, or he had to take off before he got caught by the cops. But something about the way the gentle inflection of your voice dripped into his ears like honey had warmth spreading throughout his entire body. He took another careful step towards you, extending his hand once again for you to take as his lips parted into a tender smile.

“Matthew. My name is Matthew.”

His heart started to beat a little faster feeling the way your mouth pulled into a smile of your own, reveling in the feeling of your soft hand slipping into his once again, fingers delicately curling around the bottom of his palm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew. Officially.”

Matt keened at the way his name sounded falling from your lips, and he gave your hand a faint squeeze.

“It’s nice to meet you officially as well, Y/N.”

He didn’t miss the way your heart jumped slightly when he repeated your name, or the fact that neither one of you seemed to want to let go of the other’s hand.

“You know, my partner is going to be beyond excited that I’ve finally found the person responsible for those amazing cookies.”

Matt’s chest expanded with pride feeling the rise in temperature across your cheeks, lips parting slightly as your soft giggle hit his ears.

“Nice of you to share, Matthew.”

A wider smile tugged across his lips hearing you say his name again. He lightly stroked his thumb across your knuckle as he shrugged.

“I thought at first one of them was doing it, but neither of them are as good of a cook or a baker. You’re a hit in our office, by the way.”

“I am?”

“They ask me everyday if I’ve gotten a new care package. Obviously the edible ones are their favorite.”

Another soft giggle slipped past your stretched lips, and Matt found himself inching closer to the sound as heat spread down your neck and across your chest.

“They…they know, too?”

“They do.”

“Well, then they’re just as deserving.”

Matt found himself completely in awe of you, wondering how he had managed to find an angel when he walked the path of the Devil. 

“Can I…can I take you to dinner? To say thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me-”

“I want to. You’ve provided me with a ton of dinners lately. I’d like to treat you to one.”

Matt angled his head to the side slightly as he listened to your heart’s tempo increase, enjoying the way you delicately tightened your hold on his hand as you took in a shaky breath.

“Well, how can I refuse my savior?”

“You can’t. It’s against the law actually.”

A large grin spread across your mouth at Matt’s playful tone, peering up at him with curiosity.

“Are you a lawyer, Matthew?”

“I am.”

An incredulous giggle escaped your mouth as your brows knit together in the center of your forehead.

“So, wait…lawyer by day, vigilante by night? How does that work, exactly?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

Matt chuckled softly as you giggled, resisting the urge to reach his hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear like he had done the first night he met you. 

“So, Friday night?”

“You know where to find me.”

“I do, now.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[servantofthefates]

Spell Ingredients in Traditional Witchcraft

As one would imagine, some of this is now illegal, considered barbaric, or relegated to myth. But others remain. For example, blood magic has stayed.

Human or Animal Fluids and Body Parts

Your blood proves your devotion and serves as your signature. Your target’s blood allows you to manipulate them. Similarly, your saliva, when consumed by another person or an animal, gives you considerable power over them.

Animal entrails are consulted for divination. Their organs are often used in healing balms and all sorts of potions. In curses, the animal that represents a person can serve as a living poppet.

Fruits, Herbs and Other Foodstuff

Then and now, these are staple ingredients. Leaves and eggs are used for divination. Plants, tree barks, grass, crops, and fruits are used in healing ointments, sleeping draughts, teas that induce miscarriage, and worn and edible amulets.

Perhaps lesser known is the use of poisonous mushrooms, flowers and seeds. Simply by being cooked or brewed, they can kill a target from a distance – if fed to an animal, that distance can extend beyond continents.

Religious and National Relics

This list includes the more generic garments of saints, crowns of kings and queens, and armors of warriors, as well as the very specific Holy Grail, Blood of Christ and the True Cross (fragments of the wood from the cross Jesus supposedly died on).

These relics are believed to hold immense power that can be harnessed to heal untreatable illnesses, grab or maintain power, increase beauty and wisdom, raise the dead, and attain immortality. As can be expected, rituals that require them are rarely executed, as these items are rather unusual.

Objects Obtained During a Quest

A common wildflower taken from the top of a specific mountain… A normal fish taken from a particular river… Your typical holy water taken from a faraway cathedral… Ordinary items made extraordinary through the method by which they were obtained.

The logic behind it is that the spellcaster proved the strength of his or her intentions, by overcoming any challenge that came with securing them. Such ingredients are incredibly potent.

Yes, traditional witchcraft can sound weird in this time and age. Click here to find out why.

[sausage-rolll]

I'm genuinely shocked that so many people were blindsided by the reveal that Miquella was a bit fucked up to the point that some even think that it's a recon. Because honestly there were always signs that something was a bit off with him.

-

First of all, and most obvious is that he took part in the shattering. Having Malenia go on a war path across the entirety of the lands between in his name. Even without the context of why this was done, it's still a pretty dubious thing to do.

There's also the fact that him and Malenia were the aggressors in the battle of Aionia. The fight happened just outside of Selia. Right outside of Radahn's home. She rocked up to the town he was protecting looking for a fight. A fight that, may I remind you, devastated Selia and other surrounding locations.

Miquella had done a copious amount of research into Malenia's affliction in search of a cure, I refuse to believe that he didn't have at least some sort of idea as to what could happen if she was pushed far enough. And he still allowed her to enter a battle to the death with radahn that ended up not only ruining both of them, but the entirety of Caelid too. All while he watched on from the sidelines.

-

Moving on to a much shorter point, his power to compel affection. A power similar to the bewitching branches, an item that he may have also directly developed, which allows one to override the will of another person to such an extent that they'll turn on their allies and fight by your side.

-

This point's something that I brought up in the past, and something that borderlines on headcanon but I think it's worth mentioning.

So, you know castle Sol. The castle in which Miquella attempted a ritual to revive Godwyn. The castle in which half of the key to his haligtree is guarded. The castle that watches directly over said haligtree. The castle in which Miquella definitely has very close ties to.

That castle Sol.

Did you ever notice that it contains a pretty sizeable albernuric torture chamber? One fitted with tools and contraptions that'd make Rykard proud, including the black dumpling.

Now there's no way to prove that Miquella had anything to do with this. He's been absent from castle Sol for decades. I just think it's notable that a castle so synonymous with him has a torture chamber full of the very people he's vowed to fight for.

-

Now that's not quite everything. There's also a few more points, like how he's dubbed as the most fearsome empyrean and even some stuff with St. Trina like her cult that developed sleep inducing weaponry to forcibly spread her teachings (though there's no proof she endorsed this), but I think I've made my point. Miquella's always been kind of off. There was just enough ambiguity surrounding him to give his actions the benefit of the doubt. But those actions were still there.

[sharksupermacy]

sweet love

sweet love-mina x 10th member! reader

synopsis: you love mina genre: fluff, cute little date, a 3DS????, making myself feel single

you love mina.

a statement you would stay by forever. even though the inventible might happen with her as such almost every such relationship hits you have come to exist to be happy with the now.

despite not being able to proudly claim that you were in a relationship with mina due to the stigma of two people in the same group. you were always able to show affection through gestures and hints when you were both together. linger touches far and definitely not few, giving random objects to each other, and missing items from each other closets???

safe to say miny/n stans were fed well almost 1000% of the time. even your members who supported you and mina relationship couldn't take the constant back hugging and hand-holding. all gagging (jokingly) at how much love you had for one another.

both yours and her favorite things to do with each other is to snuggle up and play a random game together. it didn't matter to either you or her that the game was well made or just really bad as long as you could both play it together.

this led to both of you agreeing to play the classic game Pokémon X and Y together on one 3DS in bed. It was nice mina back hugging you as you both booted up the screen together. you held the game in your hands as mina wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you on the cheek. both of you silently agreed you would trade anything in the world for another moment just like this.

you could hear the room almost in complete silence as a nice cozy feeling settled over the both of you in dim lighting. in the room over you could hear your members screaming playing mariokart on the switch you had just bought a month ago.

she silently watched as she saw you getting excited over the game letting the warm feeling take her over. with you playing a game as she felt just pure happiness in the moment.

"i love you," is what you said that broke the silence of the game and the quiet(ish) dorm. you tilted your head as you received no response back from the penguin. you were met with a passed-out mina from exhaustion from the schedule all of you had today.

you smiled as you got up from your place as silently as possible. saving the game progress so far, and turning off the lights in the room. smiling quietly at how much you loved her while putting the 3DS down on the drawer across the room. looking at the faint outlines of all the souvenirs, and memories you and her had made over the entire relationship.

"y/n where are you-" was slurred out from across the bedroom as you smiled to yourself more. (liking how mina called out for you.) "coming," was the word you replied back with as you made your way over bed. crashing into mina arms as both of you giggled at your antics. both of you laying in each other arms, as sleep washes over you.

"i love you," is the words that you had said to her as you felt yourself drifting off into dreamland.

a small fleeting response was said by the other, "i love you too." as both of you cuddled closer peacefully sleeping. realizing it didn't matter if you and mina had fights or even broke up in the future. you were content with just peacefully loving her in the present.

chaeyoung pov:

I was just entertaining chat where they brought up that they hadn’t seen mina and y/n in a while. I thought huh I haven’t either. “let’s go see them, shall we,” as I snatched the camera when the others were distracted by the rage-inducing game mariokart.

I made my way down the messy dorm hallway and stopped in front of the couple's door. knocked on the white door twice before calling out to the gamer couple if they were awake. no response. i knocked again and cracked open the door. where i was met a very snuggly penguin and y/n. “ew,’” I said while the camera faced me as. I turned the camera toward the love birds for a second as the comments went crazy.

twiceslaying: miny/n???? besties?????

hyofuturewife: MINY/N FTW!!! 

momodancemachine: MINY/N NATION WAKE UP! WE’VE BEEN FED AGAIN!!!!

I smiled at the comments of support as I closed the door behind me. making my way back down the hallway again lovingly complaining about how I have to put up with these two every day.

safe to say both you, mina, and miny/n was trending the next morning.

a/n: been a little bit a lot dead for the pass week or so but good news smau preps all finished! bro.. actually why is either way so good-(AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH)

[thornedrose44]

Lena Luthor: Random Crap Generator

Read on AO3

She liked to think it was a gift from her mother - her final wish or a blessing.

Or maybe even a bizarre recompense from a universe that believed the smallest smidge of magic made up for depriving a girl of her mother. (It was the equivalent of the sun going out and being given a match with the propensity to sputter and die or generate a light unable to cast further than three feet ahead.)

It was still magic - something tangible, individual and beyond understanding - and even in her childish heart, that was so overwhelmed with grief and loneliness, it provided a spark of giddiness and excitement. It made her feel special. 

What would it be today?

A lily so she had something to lay on her mother’s coffin.

An umbrella to shield her when she was caught in an unforecasted shower, sat on the curb by the police station waiting for the strange man in fancy clothes to pick her up and take her to her new home.

A chess piece - white knight - to replace the one that Lex had lost when they had moved the board from the living room to the garden for the day, it meant they could play and pretend to ignore the raised voices of Lionel and Lillian.

A pencil to replace the one that snapped in her first lesson on her first day at school.

It was impressive until Lena grew used to it. Learned that there were limitations. 

It was never anything substantive or of high value, it had to fit in her hand, had to be small and low value as if whatever this ability was could only pull items from a ninety-nine cent store. She got one item a day. It would be there in her hand when she woke up and then it would vanish when she fell asleep.

(She tested it out, working out what it was linked to - a time or the actual act of sleeping. She stayed up all night, holding tight to the sleep mask she’d had awoken that morning with to see when it would disappear. It remained resolute and real. It wasn’t until she fell asleep in the late morning, eye mask pulled on to block out the bright sunlight that it vanished at some point during her exhaustion-induced nap.)

It was during her teen years - particularly the angsty goth phase she leaned into - that she dubbed her power ‘The Random Crap Generator’ (unsurprisingly the name stuck).

The item didn’t tell her the future but gave some decent hints which, as Lena grew older, was more appreciated than the actual cheap item itself. 

The earplugs she woke up to in her hand on her first day at college let her know that the girl next door did not understand that the walls were thin, her moans were loud and pretending that her boyfriend was an effective lover did not actually make it so.

The roll of quarters pre-warned of the washing machine in the shared college house was broken before Jack and Sam yelled for her help in fixing it. 

(The condom was particularly embarrassing and made her acutely aware of the most likely outcome of the fancy date that Jack had planned for that evening).

The cuddly brown bear told Lena that Sam’s water would break two weeks earlier than expected.

Most of the time it was harmless or a helpful nudge.

Other times, though, it was a gut punch or an omen that left her on tenterhooks for the whole day.

Lena remembered waking to find bandages in her hand and small alcohol wipes. She’d had injuries before - fencing could get brutal and every engineer has their personal soldering story that keeps them vigilant for all future interactions. But this was different. It was different because she was set to wear a wire that day. It was different because she now knew what her brother was capable of. She couldn’t take the bandages with her, it would have undermined her role - the doting sister who could never imagine her brother causing her harm. She tucked them into her nightstand and later when she made her way home after hours at the police station - the officers already starting to sneer at her despite her crucial help - she’d come home and retrieved the morning supplied medical items and tended to the damage on her wrists from Lex’s too tight handcuffs.

Then there was the day she woke to something small and cold in her hand. She’d rolled it on her fingertips under the quilt, hoping that when she finally pulled it free and studied it that it wouldn’t be what she suspected it was. She kept the bullet with her, tucked into a hidden pocket of her suit. A single bullet without a gun doesn’t attract much attention. When she picked up the gun and found the chamber empty, she didn’t even bother to check that the bullet was the right type. She knew it would be. One shot was all she needed, and then Lex was bleeding out in front of her.

The days following that she awoke to a box of tissues and she worked away her way through them diligently - until she had no tears left to shed and her heart couldn’t break any further.

She ignored the small compact mirror that was in the palm of her hand every morning as she sought revenge and retribution. She threw it in the trash, out a window, ran over it with her car and even destroyed it with a controlled explosive. Regardless, the exact same mirror (cheesy pink casing and slightly chipped in the corner) would appear and Lena belligerently refused to study herself in it - aware of the unfamiliar darkness she would see brewing in her eyes.

(The day after she had reached out to Kara to repair their damaged relationship and return to the light, she awoke to a simple gold star sticker stuck to the palm of her hand - the exact gold star stickers her Mom had given for completing little chores and tasks. She had cried into the pillows until they were damp and her cheeks red and flushed.)

A red, blue and yellow friendship bracelet - fraying on the ends but clearly made with love and care - was clasped tight in a fist when she awoke every morning during Kara’s absence as if to serve as tether or connection until her return.

Xxx

Despite her Random Crap Generator (trademark pending), Lena had still struggled to believe in magic. 

(Mostly because if magic was real, what was the point of her entire career and scientific pursuits? If magic was real and could do so many amazing things, why did her mother walk into the sea? Why if there was so much wonder and things beyond what they could merely see, why wasn’t it enough for her mother? Why? Why? Why?)

She didn’t understand her power but she believed that there was an explanation that was simply yet to reveal itself - her main working theory was time travel. A version of herself in the future - who for some reason only had a bucket of bargain items on hand indicating a rather dramatic change in her financial circumstances - sent back ‘useful’ items for each day of her life in the hope to aid her without causing some dramatic paradox.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that all again…” Kara requested, crease between her brows so deep it almost looked endless.

“Which part exactly?” Lena frowned as they sat down for breakfast in Kara’s apartment.

“The part where you’ve been magical since a little girl and yet belligerently refused to believe in magic? Or the part where you're only telling me this now?” Kara spluttered, resisting even starting the stack of pancakes in front of her to instead question Lena, which told her this was a ‘serious’ matter.

“I just…” Lena waved a hand and shrugged, “didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Wha- I- you- Argh!” Kara aggressively stabbed her pancakes and shoved a chunk into her mouth chewing angrily.

Lena sighed, “Look it’s not like it’s…” She hesitated wondering if they were at a stage in their renewed friendship (post-reveal, post-revenge, post-apology, post-Lex, post-sharing-your-super-secret-with-the-whole-world) to nod back to it in a gentle way. “Cool superpowers. It’s a hairband when my one snapped the day before. It’s a chocolate bar when I have low blood sugar. It’s… it’s crap.”

Kara gasped in outrage at the descriptor. “It’s not crap!”

“Kara… Come on.” Lena rolled her eyes.

“My best friend’s magical abilities are not crap.” Kara declared, chin lifted with determination, reaching out with her free hand to squeeze Lena’s forearm - hand remaining there even once the comforting touch had been provided.

(They were doing that more often, reaching out and maintaining contact. It was simple and affectionate, and from afar it would be considered merely friendly but up close? Up close you could see how Lena’s cheeks became rose-tinted, how Kara’s breath caught and how they both snuck glances at one another, their smiles small yet greedy.)

“Regardless,” Lena continued clearing her throat, and trying to ignore the swoop in her stomach, as her voice softened to something apologetic and deeply sincere. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

She hadn’t even really told Kara either, her ability outed itself. She and Kara had had their twice weekly sleepover (Lena didn’t study the ramifications of them having their own drawer and closet space at each other’s places), and upon waking to Kara’s arm slung over her waist and face pressed to her back, Lena found a full pack of pancake mix in her hand which Kara had immediately queried. 

It sort of all came tumbling out from there.

“I appreciate that.” Kara acknowledged, lips shiny with syrup as she smiled at Lena. 

“Thank you.” Lena nodded.

“But seriously how could you not believe in magic with all that going on?”

Xxx

They started sleeping over at each other’s places more and more. Kara was curious about Lena’s power and had the child-like wonder with each new day’s offering that Lena had lost over the years. Even if Lena couldn’t help but indulge in Kara’s joy, there were other benefits to incentivise her.

Kara would hold her close in bed, pulling her back against her chest, nose sneaking through the locks of her hair to trace the nape of her neck. Lena would press yesterday’s item into Kara’s hand, who always held onto it with the vain hope that if she held it just right it wouldn’t vanish, whilst Lena would keep her right hand held out across the mattress so upon waking whatever had appeared would be instantly visible.

The first morning there was a bright red box with a handle; Lena had handed it over to Kara immediately who giddily turned the handle producing the shrill childish music before popping loudly to reveal a jack-in-the-box. 

Lena had never loved her ability more than she did in that moment.

xxx

“Ugh…” Alex groaned, sniffling loudly as she collapsed onto the stool next to Lena. 

“Everything okay?” Lena queried, flinching away when Alex sneezed violently into the crook of her arm.

“Sorry,” Alex mumbled, voice nasally, “Esme picked up a cold from school and it's taken me and Kelly out. I’m at least somewhat mobile so I took Tower duty.”

“Sounds like this is for you, then.” Lena said, without really thinking about it, handing over the cold and flu medicine she’d been granted that morning.

“Huh?” Alex frowned, accepting the medicine, “Thanks… did you just have this on you?”

Lena hesitated for a second, “You could say that.”

Alex’s gaze narrowed, “Did Kelly message you to pick this up for me?”

“No, I just had it to hand.” 

Alex blinked, “Wait is this… like yours?”

“Mine?” Lena repeated.

“You know…” Alex held out her hand and opened and closed it repeatedly. “Creation magic.”

“Temporary Random Crap Generator.” Lena corrected and confirmed.

“So, if I take this medicine and you go to sleep, would the drug just disappear from my bloodstream?” Alex questioned.

“Not sure, I think it would if I was given a different item upon waking but if I generated the same item, I don’t think so. That’s what happens when I’m ill, I keep getting the medicine until I’m better.” Lena explained.

“Hmph…” Alex replied, eyes watery and cheeks flushed enough to stop her from interrogating further, she shrugged and took her medicine as Lena returned to her work. “Hey… what… what is this branding?”

“Hmm?”

“This look like it's from the nineties?” Alex said, looking utterly perplexed, “Is it like retro or something?”

Lena glanced at the bright colours and blocky design that marked it as older than the sleeker and simpler designs of today. “Uhh… yeah, it must be.”

She’d never really considered the design, whenever she got sick she didn’t go to the pharmacy for over the counter medication, she always awoke with the simple medication she required - anything requiring a prescription was beyond her crap generator abilities. It had never really clicked that the medicine she received was exactly the brands her mother used to stock their medicine cabinet with. 

“Hey, I’m tired and for once there is no crime…” Alex began, glancing furtively around - it was just them and Brainy at the tower since Kara was training Nia to help her take point on missions, meaning Kara could step away from the cape for longer periods as required, and J’onn was having a much earned day off.

Lena raised an eyebrow waiting for the follow-up.

“Want to design some experiments for your RCG?” Alex suggested, a sparkle appearing in her eyes - scientific curiosity that wasn’t indulged as often anymore.

“RCG?” Lena questioned as Brainy popped his head into the room, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Did someone say design an experiment?”

“For Lena’s Random Crap Generator powers - RCG.” Alex explained.

Lena rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help but smile, “Sure, why not?”

“YES!” Brainy and Alex both yelled in excitement.

Xxx

They were all from home. 

As in her mother’s home. Or more generally from her childhood.

The tissues, the medicine, the sweet treats, the gold stars, even the bullet. (Her mother had kept a gun in the back of her closet, she didn’t think Lena knew but Lena had seen her cleaning it when she couldn’t sleep one night). All of it. 

It explained the low cost nature of it all, they’d lived very simply and shopped at the local stores which were always plentiful with their random items and knick-knacks. 

They’d spent the day tracing the items, looking up each one to confirm the hypothesis. Kara had come in and stuck close to Lena’s side, hand on the small of her back throughout it all. It wasn’t until they returned home (together as always) that Lena broke. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kara soothed, effortlessly picking her up and taking her straight to bed to lie down.

“I’m sorry, I don't know why I’m crying.” Lena sobbed, curling into Kara’s chest.

Kara kissed her forehead, “You don’t need to know why. You can just cry.”

Lena took the advice to heart and sobbed until her chest ached and her face felt puffy. She fell asleep cradled in Kara’s arms and when she awoke it was to the teddy she’d had when she was a child held close to her chest. 

“You knew I wasn’t okay before I did.” Lena breathed into the still morning air. She knew Kara was already awake - her breathing was an edge to light and her thumb was stroking back and forth on Lena’s stomach to soothe her. Lena turned around to face Kara, the teddy bear held tight in her arms as she met gentle blue eyes.

“Yes.” Kara confirmed, gaze flickering over Lena’s features.

“How?”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t miss it the next time.” Kara replied, volume low as if to create a private bubble that was just their own.

“Miss what?” Lena asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your sadness. Your hurt.” Kara whispered, “I don’t want you to ever face those things alone again.”

Lena inhaled a shaky breath, hand shyly reaching out to cup Kara’s face, “Kara…”

Kara turned her head and pressed a kiss to the palm of Lena’s hand, her eyes slipping closed as if to fully concentrate on absorbing the contact. 

“I didn’t have anything from Krypton for so long.” Kara revealed slowly, head turning back to look at Lena who took the opportunity to trace Kara’s features tenderly with her fingertips - keeping them linked and bound. “My Mother’s necklace was pretty much all I had. Kal-El kept the fortress to himself for a long time as he wanted me to assimilate and the DEO took my pod.

“I had nothing left but memories and they were shaky, and I would weep for every detail lost over time. A rhyme my friends would sing. The ingredient quantities for my Father’s favourite treat. The exact shade of my Mother’s favourite dress. I know material objects aren’t as important as the memories but they can provide comfort. Give solidity to the events. Evidence that they really happened and don’t just live in your head but were real and tangible too.”

“How could they have taken so much from you?” Lena murmured desperately - she was referring to the DEO, to Kal, to the universe. Why did it take, take, take and leave so little in return? Especially from someone like Kara who would give and give and give without thought for herself.

“They took from you too, Lena.” Kara soothed, reaching out to run a hand over the fuzzy fur of Lena’s bear (a bear that Lillian had snatched away from her a week after arriving at the mansion). “When I found my pod in the DEO…” Kara glanced away, jaw working, “I curled up inside it and cried myself to sleep. I never told anyone.”

Lena shuffled closer, noses near touching and air shared. “I didn’t recognise them, I didn’t… make the connection.”

“It was all you knew as a kid, it was normal, it’s only as time has gone by and the items have remained the same that… you could see it.” Kara explained patiently.

“I feel like I forgot her.” Lena admitted, choking back a sob.

“You didn’t.” Kara said.

Lena sniffled, “Do you think…”

“Do I think?” Kara encouraged when Lena broke off.

“Do you think it's my magic or my mother’s?” Lena asked, wanting Kara to make her believe in the impossible once more. To believe that love was more potent than anything in the universe.

“Does it matter?” Kara replied, “Your mother gave you a safe and happy childhood with the smallest of things, and whether she cast the spell or you did… she was the one that showed you how the tiniest of items can provide the greatest of joy. She did that and you’ve carried it on.”

xxx

“Lena, are you alright?” J’onn inquired kindly, slowly approaching her worktop. 

Lena looked up, shoulders slumped and a slight shake to her hands that prevented her from assisting with the sensitive work that she had been working on with Brainy to handle their villain of the week - an alien that secreted a burning chemical preventing Kara from getting close without receiving burns that took her an entire day to heal. Lena had been relegated to a computer supporting Alex in tracking the aliens movements.

“I…” Lena began, hands frozen over the keyboard before faltering.

“You need not tell me what is bothering you, I merely wish to make you aware that I am here if you require anything.” J’onn murmured. “Nia is looking out for Kara as well.”

“Is she okay?” Lena queried panickedly, remembering how tightly Kara had hugged her that morning and how she promised everything would work out.

“Of course.” J’onn reassured, “She was noted to be more withdrawn than usual and Nia is keeping watch on her demeanour.”

“Oh… good.” Lena sighed.

J’onn waited a beat, clearly allowing Lena to decide if his presence was still wanted.

“It was a box of tissues.” Lena confessed. 

“Your gift?” J’onn checked, moving to take the seat next to Lena - correctly identifying the revelation as an invitation.

Lena nodded.

“Does it always herald something bad?” 

Lena bit her lip and nodded once more.

“I see.” J’onn hummed. 

“What if something happens to Kara?” Lena asked, feeling small and so childish for even voicing the question.

But J’onn didn’t tsk or even reject the possibility, he merely considered this for a long moment.

“Then we handle it. Together.” J’onn said. It was the simplicity and definitiveness of it that helped, Alex had tried too hard to say everything would be okay, but J’onn accepted the possible future and didn’t turn away from it.

“I feel like I’m waiting for the end of the world.”

“Would you like to hold my hand?” J’onn offered, hand moving to rest on the worktop between them. “Until Kara comes back?”

Lena swallowed thickly before reaching out and clinging tightly to J’onn’s hand.

Later, when Brainy had stabilised the neutralising agent and the alien was safely locked away, not a single scratch on Kara in the fight, Lena was nervously waiting on the balcony for her return - J’onn squeezing her hand once more before leaving her to await Kara’s return.

There was a flash - a flicker in her vision - her hair sent wildly off in every direction and loose bits of clothing (her untucked blouse) billowing in the rush of wind.

“Are you okay? Has anything happened?” Kara questioned, warm hands cradling Lena’s face, blue eyes wide and frantic. 

“I-”

“I kept safe, I promise.” Kara rushed on, “I wasn’t stupid, I wouldn’t risk- I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“I know, Kara, I know.” Lena replied, hands reaching for Kara’s hips - needing to feel that she was really there with her own hands. 

“I won’t let anything terrible happen, okay?” Kara promised desperately.

“It’s okay, it’s okay if it does.” Lena said; Kara blinked jolting in place slightly. Lena’s hands slipped round Kara’s hips to the small of her back, pulling them closer together until there was no space between them. “Because we’ll face it together. El mayarah.”

“El mayarah.” Kara repeated, gaze dropped to Lena’s lips, studying how she said the words of her family intently. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Lena inhaled and then Kara’s lips were pressed to her own, warm and welcome in the cold night air. Kara’s hands moved from Lena’s face, one twisting through her hair guiding her this way and that, and the other to her waist pushing her against the nearest wall. Locking them in.

Kara kissed her with a level of confidence and certainty that revealed how deeply she’d thought about this, had choreographed it for nearly every scenario, adapting it to suit every little bit of knowledge Lena had given her about how she liked to be touched and treated. Her grip was strong but her lips gentle, and Lena couldn’t help but melt.

Every wall and emotional barrier swept away like melted ice with a single sweep of Kara’s tongue.

“Kara,” Lena choked out, needing air.

Kara pulled back immediately, her own lips red and wet, her golden curls tangled and practically debauched. “Lena.. you’re…”

Lena reached up to her cheeks and felt the tracks of the silent, jubilant tears. “Oh.”

“Happy tears?” Kara grinned.

“The happiest.” Lena beamed, arms wrapping around Kara’s neck to pull her back in.

xxx

“Darling, is everything okay?” 

“Swell!” Kara replied overly chirpy, her smile that edge too stiff to be one hundred percent true. 

“Swell?” Lena giggled, grabbing Kara’s hand on the table and squeezing comfortingly.

“I mean… Great! Good! Fantastic!” Kara corrected enthusiastically. “Does the food taste good?”

“Excellent.” Lena complimented, savouring the taste of the meal Kara had been working on and stressing over all afternoon for their one year anniversary. 

“Yeah?” Kara breathed out, the relief obvious in how her shoulders dropped a couple of inches from around her ears.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed leaning over the corner of the table to kiss her girlfriend sweetly. “Thank you so much for cooking. I love how much effort you put into this.” She paused before gathering her courage to add, “It makes me feel special.”

“You are special.” Kara affirmed immediately before sucking in a deep breath - chest expanding. “I was going to wait until dessert but I don’t think I can.”

Lena tilted her head to the side curiously, only to let out a gasp of delight as Kara slipped off her chair and kneeled next to Lena’s, holding Lena’s hand between both of her own.

“Lena,” Kara began, voice warming as she went on, “you are my best friend but you are also so much more than that. You help me to hope and believe when the days are darkest. You inspire me to never give up. You bring me laughter and happiness in thousands of ways I never thought possible for myself. You make everyday feel like a gift with endless possibilities. Best Friend and Girlfriend feel inadequate terms for how much of myself belongs to you, how much of myself wants to be yours. So, Lena Kieran Luthor, will you do me the greatest honour of my entire existence? Will you marry me?”

Lena was already nodding at the start of the speech and the second the question was asked, Lena pushed herself off her chair and into Kara’s arms.

“Yes, yes, yes!” 

Kara got to her feet, lifting Lena up in the process and twirling them round and round their shared home. She gently placed Lena back onto her own feet and reached into the pocket of the blazer she was wearing.

“Oh no…” Kara muttered, expression turning horror struck, “Oh Rao, no.”

“Kara? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find the ring.” Kara said, shucking off her jacket and turning it upside down as if it was merely tucked away somewhere inside it. “I was so sure it was in my pocket, it must be somewhere.” She dropped the item to the ground, head rotating left and right, x-ray vision inevitably sweeping the area in order to find it, “I’ll be right back, I-”

“Kara, it’s okay.” Lena interjected, laying a hand on her arm, keeping her (hopefully) fiancee in place with the lightest of touches.

Kara wrung her hands, looking utterly disheartened, “No, you should have a ring-”

“I do have one.” Lena replied, pulling a large mood ring off the index finger of her right hand.  “I think this is for you. It appeared this morning.”

Kara took it, brow furrowing in amazement, “You had this since this morning?”

“Mmhmm…” Lena hummed, holding out her left hand.

Kara carefully cradled her proffered hand and smoothly slipped the mood ring onto her ring finger. “Have I ever told you how useful your power is?”

Lena beamed, “Everyday.”

[ggumjjun]

# taehyun + night wear !!

tw. f!reader, perv!taehyun, clingy, cunnilingus, fantasizing, unprotected, fingering, dirty talk. minors dni + nsfw !!

a/n. part 3! sorry about the delays, wrote like 50% of this w one hand cooperating lol

mini series masterlist

##############################

tipping back your chair, you balance backwards, staring at the ceiling. you despised studying; I’d anything, you’d rather do anything instead of such a boring task. with how dumb you were, you thought, it wouldn’t make a difference between studying and not. sadly, you flop down on your bed, your phone dial tone jingling as you await a call. “hello?” “taehyun!” you squeak, excited by his response. “aren’t you studying?” he asks softly, knowing that it was rather unlikely. “i was, i swear!” “right.” “ok, maybe i wasn’t. still though, ill fail!” you whined, sadly acknowledging the truth. “i can tutor you,” taehyun offered, knowing that you’d need it. “really?” your excited response brought a smile to his face; it had been barely a day since you spent time together, but he knew how clingy you got when you were. “i can be there in 30 minutes?”

after exchanging brief farewells, you rolled out of bed, sitting in front of the mirror to fix your hair. before you even knew it, a knock at your door brought you to your feet, answering to taehyun’s gentle smile and armful of books. “taehyun!” you beamed, engulfing him a hug. prepared as always for your sudden clinginess, he easily maneuvers his textbooks into one hand to avoid hitting you, your head resting against his chest. “okay, okay.” with his small laugh and a pat to your back, your grip around his waist loosens, fingers finding their way to his wrist as you pull him into your bedroom, lying down on the floor as he sits beside you. “so, where did you leave off?” taehyun starts, knowing how likely this study session would go; you were already lying down, not to mention already lacing your fingers through his. he couldn’t help but feel a twinge in his heart at your cute actions; so sweet and clingy, always wanting his help and attention.

“when you do polynomials, you want to factor first, like this.” drawing numbers in parentheses, his thin, elegant fingers distracting your attention. the dark sky peeked in through your curtains, slowly making you sleepy as you attempted to pay attention. math always was sleep inducing, and it didn’t help that your insanely handsome boyfriend had a soothing, gentle voice. “are you paying attention, angel?” softly ruffling your hair, taehyun sighs affectionately. “it’s okay if you’re sleepy.” “sorry,” you pout, “can’t really focus.” “that’s okay, we can stop here if you want,” he offers. “no, want to change first and then continue?” blinking in surprise, a warm smile crosses his face as he nods, sitting against your bed frame and stretching his legs out as he waits for you to come back.

closing the door to your closet, you dig through your clothes. finding a cute set of night clothes, you slip them on, perking up at how they complimented your figure. usually you’d wear a comfortably large t-shirt, but why not dress up a little? the lower neckline accentuated your collarbones, short dress length exposing your pretty legs. “im back!” you cheerfully call, lying back down on the floor, a short break to change refreshing your mood. as you copy down the problems he’d circled for you, you fail to notice taehyun’s gaze land on your legs, particularly the hem of your night dress. teasingly close to showing your underwear, thin material lightly settling over your curves. something about how you would wear such a revealing item of clothing to bed sent blood rushing to his crotch, so delicate and cute but so delicately indecent.

imagining how it would ride up as you slept, clinging to your figure yet revealing your soft stomach and thighs. imagining how it would look bunched up, exposing your breasts and lacy underwear, as you looked up at him, so sweet and innocently—“taehyun?” your voice breaks his fantasy, twirling the pencil in your hand as you look expectantly at him, chin resting in your hand,. “sorry angel, did you say something?” he asks, blinking away the perverted images that flooded his mind. “you’re hard.” you reply, cocked head gazing directly at his very visible hard on.

“i—sorry love,” he starts, beginning to pull his shirt down to cover himself, before your small hand catches his midway. “why?” reaching to palm his crotch, on all fours over his legs, face to face with his flushed face. “you know you can do anything at all to me,” you whisper, licking your lips, “anything at all. after all, i owe you for tutoring me.” firmly gripping your hand over his crotch, “you have no idea what you do me,” taehyun breathes, before immediately scooping up your scantily clad figure, tossing you on your bed with ease as he follows you.

you giggle as he roughly shoves up your nightgown, your panties soaked at his desperate man handling. “such a tease.” taehyun pants, pressing two fingers against your clothed core, gently pushing smal circles into the wet spot formed, as you let out a high pitched moan, thighs clenching around his forearm. “you know better, love,” a stern but breathy voice sounding as your legs are abruptly forced apart, hands firmly pining them down as taehyun’s warm breath tickles your cunt. “push aside your panties for me, angel?” obeying, your small fingers reach down and slide your underwear aside, revealing your sopping pussy, whimpering with anticipation. licking a stripe up your cunt, cute mewls of pleasure filling the charged air as his tongue dips into your folds, savoring your juices.

“agh—taehyun—!” your sweet cries escaping your throat, hands clinging to the sheets as taehyun sucks your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with a flick of his tongue. your hips buck into his face as you whimper in arousal. “desperate slut, always acting so innocent but making such lewd sounds.” teeth bite into your soft thigh, trailing nips and kisses marking up your untouched skin. “t-taehyun, w-want to cum,” you squeak, feeling his tongue slide up your slit, a hand leaving your thigh in favor of inserting three fingers into your count. “ah—! t-too much!” needy cries break free as he curls his fingers in your cunt, lips pressed against your clit as he sucks lightly, sending pressure flooding to your core. “i-i’m—!” you mewl, the knot in your stomach releasing as you cum all over his tongue and fingers, hands clamping over your mouth in embarrassment at your loud cries. glancing down, your face burns with red as you see taehyun lick his lips covered in your juices. “such a spoiled angel,” he sighs, “tastes so sweet.”

“w-want your c-cock,” you whimper, gazing down at his hard bulge through his sweatpants, “h-have i been good?” “anything my angel wants,” taehyun smiles softly, gazing down at your wrecked figure as he pulls down his sweats and boxers. night dress bunched up above your breasts, legs splayed about with dark red kiss marks littering your inner thighs, pussy swollen and dripping in cum. so ruined, all by him. sliding a hand up your leg, taehyun pushes your knee to the side of your chest, panting softly as he slowly pushes the head of his cock in your abused folds, lips finding your breasts as he decorates them in bites, kiss marks bruising purple red and wet with saliva. “so sweet and pretty,” sighing affectionately as he sheathes himself in your plush walls, waiting for your small nod before thrusting in and out, gentle but deep. lips finding one another, controlled pushes as you bite his lip, his free hand reaching down to play with your sensitive, abused clit. swallowing each others erotic moans, hitting your sweet spot, delicate walls feeling every ridge and vein of his cock. your fingers trace up his arms, resting around his neck as he pushes deeper and deeper, velvety folds welcoming him as pressure climbs in your core. erratic, saliva coated kisses replace the gentle ones of before, tugs on your clit to push you towards your orgasm. gasping only for a breath, taehyun aggressively presses his lips against your swollen ones, climaxes reached simultaneously as your cunt milks his cock of his release, your cum coating his length as the pressure in your abdomen undoes itself.

dizzying kisses slow as taehyun pulls out, cradling your body in his as you lean into his chest, panting softly. “mm tired,” you sigh, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “stay over?” “of course, love,” he murmurs into your hair, threading his fingers with yours. “need to clean up,” taehyun nudges you, but you cling to his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso. “no, too tired.” you yawn, mumbling sleepily into his skin. “hmm?” he asks, unable to hear your soft whispers. “…sing?” you repeat, resting your ear against his chest, the strong beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. running his other hand through your hair, taehyun gazes down at your sleepy figure lovingly as he softly begins to him, finding a comforting tune to sing as he watches you rest.

##############################

pervy yeonjun’s next~ also kudos to the er nurse who saw jjun in my phone case and asked if he was my bf <3 i wish but impossible

[yanderemommabean]

I think for the Human Zoo concept you could do some more comfort for when the reader is more accustomed to the zoo? I really like it, by the way!!! It's a really good concept :)

I have some cute ideas for the enclosure set up!

Mostly it’s what they’ve seen in many different observations, such as-

Cute, Cozy bed designs, made to the humans need for back and neck support and well insulated to keep you warm in winter and cool in summer

A fridge for small snacks and treats. They often have to observe you when you eat actual meals but giving you small items like chips and cookies is seen as adorable to them as they watch you nibble away and pace around

A few gaming systems, and some replicated networks like YouTube and Hulu so you can watch and relax with whatever you choose! Plus it shows them what stimulates your brain!

If one caretaker takes a liking to you, it’s allowed for them to stay inside your sleeping quarters and examine you more closely such as when you shower or use the heated tub you requested!

It also means that the caretaker who has taking a liking to you can do a few higher level things such as testing you in certain scenarios, be they sexual or a bit stress inducing such as seeing what makes your adrenaline kick in

It’s just a few silly ideas, but I would love to hear the ones you beans have!!

-Mommabean

[bluewolfangel01]

How would the brothers act during an argument?? Have a good day btw :3

Thank you anon, hope you have a good day too

Brothers during an Arguement

I feel like there's 2 levels of how they'll act depending on what happened; the "I'm going to kill you" where they'll rough up each other like typical siblings, or the "I'm going to kill you" where they'll leave whichever brother offended them on death's door

We often see Mammon owing Levi either money or something else for example, that's a typical siblings quarrel, the result of which is either Mammon doing a favor for Levi, Levi choosing a punishment for Mammon, or if it gets to the point where it's disturbing everyone else in the HoL Lucifer is going to intervene and string them both up

Such other examples include: Beel eating all the food in the house, misfired prank devised by the Anti-Lucifer League, destorying/stealing a personal item, etc

Now Satan may be the avatar of wrath but when any of the brothers get truly pissed off, it's hard to tell who's the true avatar of wrath

They can get so beyond angry, so beyond pissed, their aura can and will become so fear inducing that even Mc can't help but be scared of their beloved demons if there's ever a "I'm going to kill you" type arguement

Of course one of them must have done something almost unforgivable for any of the brothers to get to that level of pure wrath, except for Satan of course, he's a ticking time bomb but he's ours :)

Lucifer: any arguement he's apart of (where he didn't have to intervene in the first place) is typically because one of his brothers didn't listen to him, a more destructive than typically Anti-Lucifer League prank is pulled, or his belongings are messed with

Mammon: ... it's Mammon, almost any arguement he's apart of is because of money to some form or another, if it doesn't involve money then the next likelihood is that he's had enough of being called a scumbag or some variation of degrading name

Levithan: the topic, most of the time, involves his otaku collection, whether he's being hindered from getting more stuff to add to the collection, it's been defaced to any capacity, or it's been sh!t talked to such an extent that Levi can't help but to defend it with all his might

Satan: everything and anything, it's Satan, though if you want to get a bit more specific the topics might typically be the brothers being loud, a Lucifer prank gone wrong, or his book was damaged

Asmodeus: he'll probably get into an arguement if one of the brothers messes with his room, his clothes, his makeup, his beauty/self care routine, his chance to get with a potential partner, stuff like that

Beelzebub: he's not one to get mad or into arguements easily but if he does it's because of something like one of the brothers ate something he had his name on, one of the brothers picking on Belphie (mainly when Belphie isn't in the mood/isn't doing okay) ... I'm going to be honest I can't think of much Beel would get into a fight about rn

Belphegor: He'll typically get into a fight because the brothers are being to loud for his liking, for some reason or another the brothers stop him from sleeping for an extended period, or he's to tired to deal with the brothers' schemes/shenanigans

Im dealing with a bit of writer's block so the ideas started to fizzle out towards the end there. Sorry for taking a bit to answer your ask

[thehighpriestess1]

August : 12

Summary : There is more to Gojo than that meets the eyes. Y/n allowed herself to feel loved and tries to keep an open mind.

Pairing : Gojo x y/n

Word count : 10k+

Warning : TW : mention of self harm and sui***e, 18+ only.

Masterlist : Previous

Ask box

Picking out clothes with Gojo was not as fun as you had expected. He wanted everything in every color. Everything was too cute to pass on to. His excitement was fair. You had been in a similar place a month ago. This was his time to be a father. You wondered as you watched him look at one overall after another, how excited he would have been if he was there when Keisuke was born. It hurt you that even if you chose to stay there was no photo of Keisuke and Gojo in the hospital. No family photo. In a month Keisuke would be 3 months old, maybe this was the right time to get one. There was still hesitation in your heart about Gojo. But you promised him one month. So for one month you would weaken the barrier just a little. Give Gojo a chance to prove himself. You didn’t know whether you wanted him as your husband though. It was still too soon to decide and there were wounds that would take years to heal. There were many unanswered questions but all of that could wait a month. You were not that oblivious, you could see the tiredness and lack of sleep on his face and you knew your son well enough to know that he does not adjust quickly to new environments. You didn’t bring it up and neither did Gojo which made you wonder that maybe he was a good father or at least meant to be one. But a good father is not always a good husband..right?

You walked over to him and put your arm on his shoulder, “You found anything?”. You asked and looked at the two cashmere sweaters in his hand. Gojo had quite an expensive taste when it came to clothing and it reflected in his choices. In the past two hours he had already bought three matching sets of coats for the three of you to wear. You had never seen this cheesy side of Gojo who wanted to wear matching clothes with his family, who wanted to buy every soft toy that he laid his eyes on. Some toys were even bigger than your son but that didn’t stop him.

“I can’t decide. I want both”. He looked at you helplessly. “Can we please get them both?”. He didn’t have to ask you, you thought. It was his money and he could do whatever he wanted but your heart melted a little every time he did.

You chuckled. “Fine. We can”. Gojo smiled widely and asked the sales associate to pack them both. You had lost count of how many clothes you had bought so far as all the shopping bags were sent straight to the car. Gojo was frivolous when it came to shopping but he was not careless. Each item of clothing was carefully examined. He had gotten a list of fabrics from the daddy and me blog that were best suitable for newborns and he would match the composition with that list. If there was even one material that wasn’t in the list, that item was discarded. Gojo had a whole document about color theory and avoided clothes that might induce anxiety in a two month old. You thought it was all a bit too much but Gojo was a bit too much. 

Of course you didn’t miss the heart eyes of every female associate that you came across. It didn’t bother you, Gojo was an attractive man. His frame stood out amongst the common people, with towering height and muscular frame he became the center of attraction wherever he went and at this point you were used to it. But today he looked especially handsome. He was clad in all black with black trenchcoat. His snowy white hair swayed with every head turn, his skin glowed with every curve of his smile and his lips had never looked this plump. You shook your head before you could get any further with your imagination. Of course it wasn’t a crime to admire your husband, the father of your child but you were hesitant to admit your attraction. 

“What else do we have on the list?”. You asked, looking at Gojo.  Somehow between making breakfast and taking care of Keisuke while you got ready, Gojo had made an elaborate list of things he needed to buy. You had painstakingly reminded him Keisuke did not need a mini car at 

this age. He could barely sit on his own.  

“Before that..”. Gojo trailed off and one of the men brought the same green juice you had this morning in a glass bottle. “..you need this”

You took the bottle in your hand and gave a confused look. “What is this?”.

“It’s good for your anemia. I spoke to Shoko and she suggested this”. 

“But..I had it this morning”. You reminded him.

Gojo nodded. “But we have been shopping for the past two hours so drink a little so you don’t get tired”. 

You stared at the bottle in your hand and then back at Gojo. He was serious. He was serious about this.You had no defense for this. You were tired and felt a little dizzy. You opened the metal cap and took a sip. It didn’t taste bad but it wasn't something you could drink all day. 

"I'm fine Gojo". You rolled your eyes..

"If you say so..Gojo". Gojo smiled and intertwined your hand.

Your breath hitched the moment his fingers locked in with yours. It was so easy. So easy for him to hold your hand like he was the only one who could reach through the walls around you whenever he wanted to. Like the barrier you spent a year building around yourself did not exist for him. 

But the reality was different. Much different. Gojo had been debating on reaching out for you the moment the two of you sat in the car. The fleeting touches on shoulder and arm were not enough for him. He had been itching to hold your hand. Sneaking glances between the two of you. He tried multiple times but you turned away to look at a onesie or a chair. Even now, he looked calm on the surface but on the inside he was going insane. He looked like he was staring into a distance but on the inside he was admiring the feeling of your hand in his. He had waited a year for this and now it felt worth all the pain. Your hand felt warm in his, he gave it a light squeeze and when you didn't pull away his knees almost gave up. He didn't want to let it go ever. He looked away from you to hide the red coating his cheeks. He bit his lip to control the smile on his face. He cleared his throat to stop his words from quivering. His body didn’ feel like his own anymore. Blood rushed to his head making him a little dizzy and his heart was thumping loudly. He wanted more..much more but for now he was content with your hand in his. 

"We should..umm". You spoke first to diffuse the tension. "...see the crib". 

"Right!". Gojo spoke almost immediately and turned towards the store that sold handcrafted cribs. Neither of you spoke on the way to the store. While you were debating your attraction to him, Gojo was going crazy over every single thing, the smell of your perfume, that one loose strand of hair falling across your cheeks, your lips, your eyes..everything was driving him insane. He smiled to himself, just a week ago he lived in a world without you, a colorless and painfull world, and now you were here. Even if you don’t let him near you, even if he has to live with holding just your hand for the rest of his life, he would live happily. 

You walked between rows of exquisite cribs. It was hard to decide on one. You looked at the price tags and before you could even count the zeroes Gojo was already onto the next one.

“This one is made from ebony and is lined with fine silk curtains. It comes with a built-in baby monitor. All handcrafted with gold inlay and one of the ten pieces available worldwide”. The associate beamned proudly.

You chewed your bottom lip and looked at the crib. It was beautiful and sturdy but something felt off.

“Do you like it?”. Gojo asked. He could read your face and knew that you were doubtful about this one.

“I don’t know. It’s beautiful but I can’t imagine Keisuke in this”. You looked up at him.

Gojo smiled. “Me neither. Let’s look at some more”.

You nodded and followed him.

The associate guided you towards another and then another but for some reason none of them seemed like the right one. You felt guilty about turning down and you could see the disappointment in the associate’s face each time you turned down a crib.

"This would be perfect for your baby. It's handmade in Italy and comes in with a built-in temperature sensor. It has a hidden camera in all four corners and the surface is coated with white gold to give a calming appearance". 

You looked at the crib, it was similar to the one you had in the village except that one was not coated with gold. You walked towards it and kept your hand on the railing, it felt strong and sturdy. 

The associate smiled and stood on the other side. "It also comes with a fine Muslin curtains on the inside for night time and it can withstand a total of 120 kg"

Gojo didn't pay attention to the associate. He stood next to you and kept his hand on yours over the railing. "Do you like it?". He asked, looking at you. He didn't care how fancy or hi-tech the crib was. Your opinion is all that mattered to him..as for security Gojo knew that he can take care of it.

You smiled and looked up at him. "I like this one. What about you?".

"I like it too". He smiled back and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. 

The sales associate visibly relaxed. "Then should we finalize this?".

Gojo nodded. "Yes". 

The car ride home was tiring. It was almost lunch time and you were getting drowsy. Unlike before, You and Gojo sat in the middle, holding hands. Gojo wasn’t doing any better. After the tiring night and busy morning, all he wanted to do now was hold you and sleep. He loved Keisuke, he truly did but at times like this he wished that he could have gotten more time with you. Just you and him. 

“Y/n..”. Gojo whispered.

“Yes?”. You turned towards him. 

“Should we…”. He hesitated.“…..Nevermind”. He turned away. 

“Satoru..what is it?”. You tried to read his face to understand what he wanted to say.  After everything that he has done, why would he hesitate now?

“Should we..I mean..Can we get a nanny for Keisuke?”. Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks.

You nodded your head and averted your gaze. “I can take care of him on my own. I know it’s a lot but you don’t have to help if you don’t want to”. You said, looking out now. 

Gojo immediately realized his mistake. He turned completely towards you and took both of your hands in his’. “No love. I didn’t mean it like that”.

You looked down at his hands and then up at him. “What did you mean then?”.

“I meant... A lot has happened y/n and I want us to spend some time together. I want to know everything that’s going on in your head other than Keisuke. I want to know about so many things”. Gojo gave your hand a light squeeze. 

You didn't expect this. What was he up to now? You gave him a short smile. “You can ask me whatever you want to know about”.

Gojo smiled and shook his head. At times it was adorable how clueless you could get. “I mean..I want to take you out to dinner and spend some time with you”. 

Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t know what to say. “I..I don’t think we need to spend any time together. After all, we are only together because of Keisuke right?”.  

Gojo stayed silent for a few seconds and then he smiled. “No. I told you that I want both you and Keisuke in my life. You mean more to me than just the mother of my child. You are my love y/n and I don’t want you to forget that..ever”. Your words had left an ache in his chest but he didn’t care. 

You pressed your lips together and looked down. “I..I’ll need time to think about it”.

“Take your time. I am not going anywhere”. Gojo smiled and sat back with a sad smile.

You turned away to look outside. You couldn’t face him. He sat back and faced the other side. He knew he deserved all your hatred but it still hurt so much. The pain spread from his chest to his arms and legs. His whole body felt numb. He looked at a couple walking outside and thought to himself, if only he had not left you ever, if only he would have shown up that night in the park, if only he would have stayed back that day, then maybe it could have been you and him. If the gods were to come down to ask him for all his wealth and power in return for a happy life with you, he would take it in a heartbeat. 

-X-

“Where is Satoru?!”. Yuri demanded as she stormed into the private wing of the mansion. 

“He has gone out”. Jerry replied and stood sternly in front of her, preventing her from proceeding any further.

Yuri scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “I need to get a file from his room”. 

“I am sorry but no one is allowed beyond this point”. Jerry smiled. It was true. No one other than Jerry and few other maids were allowed beyond the lobby in your and Gojo’s absence. 

“I am not just another person around the house Jerry. I am his family”. Yuri tried to reason.

Jerry gave a polite smile. It was not in his nature to be crass to people in the house and neither did he think he had ever hated anyone. But he hated Yuri with every fiber of his being. He was a gentleman, trained to be ready for every situation but somehow Yuri managed to find a way to get on his nerves. He wanted to remind her of her place and tell her that if she had really been his family then she would have the Gojo name but he didn’t say any of the witty insults. Instead he preferred to do it his way. “Mr.Gojo and...Mrs.Gojo would be back shortly, you can visit him then”. He gave another polite smile.

Yuri scoffed.“Jerry..do I need to remind you that until two days ago you were obeying me? Do I need to remind you what happens to those who disobey me?”. Yuri stepped closer to Jerry and pouted mockingly. “Only I can order you-”.

“What’s happening here?” Gojo’s voice rang in the hallway.

Yuri immediately stepped back and had her good girl mask back on. She turned around, smiling with doe eyes to see Gojo walked towards them. Her smile faltered a little when she saw you walking next to him. She wondered how can someone look so sad and angry all the time when they have a man like Gojo next to them?

You let go of Gojo’s hand the moment Yuri turned around but Gojo grabbed it again and held it tighter this time. Gojo didn’t understand why you let go and thought your hand must have slipped because he wasn’t holding it tight enough. Afterall underneath all this he was indeed a simple man who just wanted to hold hands with his wife. He didn’t see things for what they were.

“I just wanted to get the file I gave..y/n last night”. Yuri spoke and looked at you with feigned politeness. She looked in between the two of you and saw the way Gojo had intertwined his hands with yours. Were you that possessive that you had to hold his hand all the time? Or were you jealous of her? Either way, holding hands meant nothing to her.

“It’s in my office. You can take it from there”.

“I need to talk to you Satoru”. Yuri stepped towards Gojo and looked up at him through her lashes. 

You bit your lip in frustration. This was annoying. She was annoying. You hated her but you hated Gojo for letting her into his life. Was this your replacement? Just the thought that Gojo relied on someone while you were alone made your blood boil and skin crawl. 

Yuri stepped closer to Gojo and fiddled with the buttons of his coat and now there was hardly any distance between them. Gojo frowned and stepped back but she was quick enough to grab his free hand. She pouted, “I didn’t know that and Jerry said that I was not allowed to go to your room..anymore”. She said the last words looking at you through the corner of her eye and smirked a little when she saw your jaw tense. 

You yanked your hand away and stormed ahead without waiting for Gojo. You didn’t care how it made you look. You just wanted to be away from her. Your head was spinning and it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.

Gojo was surprised by your reaction. It happened suddenly. One moment Yuri was in front of him and the next you had waked out. Did he do something? Were you mad at him?Was this about the nanny ?He ignored everyone around him and ran after you. 

“Y/n! Wait!”. He called out but you didn’t stop walking.

Gojo jogged ahead and stood in front of you. He dismissed everyone around and looked down at you. You didn’t look up. Gojo cupped your face with both of his hands and titled it upwards. “What happened?”. Gojo was panicking on the inside. The last thing he wanted to do now was hurt you more than he already had.

You gritted your teeth. Did he really not know or was he playing dumb? You yanked his hand away, “Nothing”, you said sternly and walked away but Gojo followed you around. 

“Are you mad at me?”. Gojo asked with a frown on his face.

You stayed silent and turned around the corner to enter the bedroom.

“Y/n look at me!”. He pleaded.

You stayed silent and made your way to the bed where Keisuke was sleeping peacefully surrounded by his toys. The help in charge of looking after him bowed and took her leave leaving only you and Gojo in the room. You walked to the closet and Gojo followed you. “Is this about the nanny?”.

“No”. You took your coat off and tossed it on a bench. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves but nothing helped.

“What did I do?”. Gojo asked as he took his coat off too.

“Nothing”. You said and walked out with Gojo still following you around.

Keisuke was sleeping peacefully in the center of the bed, surrounded by pillows. You tucked the sides of the blanket. You caressed his cheeks softly and kissed his forehead.

Gojo couldn’t focus on anything. He felt like he was having another panic attack. He was growing restless. Why won’t you look at him? Why were you running away from him? What did he do? Were you going to leave him again? 

“Are you mad at me?”. He pleaded quietly. 

“Satoru, I am not mad at you”. You spoke softly and stood up to make your way to the bathroom.

Gojo followed you, “Yes you are. Did I do something? I..I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. If it's about the nanny then we don't have to get one”. Gojo frowned. His heart was beating rapidly. The sudden shift in your behavior worried him. Was it because he held your hand? Did he do too much or did he not do enough? He didn’t know. All he knew was that something happened and now you were upset. He stood behind you and looked at you through the mirror.

“Please…just..talk to me”.

You looked at his reflection in the mirror and your breath hitched when you saw the faint tears lining his lash line. Was he..was he crying? You were upset but you didn’t mean to hurt him. 

“Please…tell me what happened”. Gojo took a step towards you and now stood directly behind you. You could feel his coat brushing against the back of your arms.

Your gaze softened as you witnessed his fragility and it shook your walls. Maybe he wasn’t the big bad wolf you thought him to be.

“Don’t run away from me”. Gojo spoke with his eyes closed. “Yell at me or hit me, I don’t care but...never run away from me”. His voice quivered. His hands were trembling by your side. He was scared.

You were so angry that you wanted to cry. You were angry at yourself for feeling this way. If you didn’t love him then you shouldn’t be feeling this. If he loved you then how could he let another woman get near him? Did she mean more than you did? Why did you care about it so much? It was all too frustrating. You turned towards him but refused to look up at him. The distance or the lack of it, made your heart race and your thoughts made your head spin.

Gojo looked down at you. He knew you. He knew that when you were upset you refused to look at anyone. He knew that he had hurt you somehow. He kneeled in front of you and held both of your hands. 

You heat shot up and saw his teary eyes staring at you. “Satoru..”. You said bleakly. 

“What happened? What did I do?”. Gojo whispered. 

You took a deep breath. “I don’t want..”. You sighed. “I don’t know what your relationship is with Yuri but I don’t want her to be anywhere near me or Keisuke”.

Gojo frowned. Why were you talking about Yuri now? Did she do something? Did she say something? You and Keisuke? “There is no you and Keisuke…”. Gojo said, eyes scanning every inch of your face. 

You frowned.”What-”

“It’s us. You, me and Keisuke. Don’t..separate me…not yet at least”. Gojo cupped your cheeks. “I promise you, she will never come near us ever again”. 

Your heart skipped a beat. You could see that he meant every word he said.In that moment you felt the love seep through the cracks of the wall you spent a year building. You smiled and nodded your head. 

“Let’s go and wake up our baby now”. Gojo smiled sadly.

You followed him out but deep inside you felt guilty for telling him what to do when you weren’t even sure if you’ll be with him in a few weeks.

You nudged him to sit on the bed. He didn’t let go of your hand but leaned down to press a kiss on Keisuke’s cheeks. His cheeks jiggled when Gojo pulled away,making you chuckle. “How can someone be this adorable”. Gojo whispered.

You shrugged. “You know..”. You said looking at Keisuke. “I was so mad when he was born because he looked so much like you”. 

Gojo chuckled. “He does!. Doesn’t he? I didn’t want to brag about it but now I can”.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “I just hope he doesn’t get your personality”.

“What’s wrong with it?”. Gojo pouted.

“I can only deal with one clingy child!”. You laughed.

Gojo smiled. “Y/n….”

“Yeah?”.

Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks,”About Yuri…. She means nothing. If you don’t want her around then she won’t be around”. 

You smiled. It did feel better to know that even if you got together a day ago Gojo still prioritized your happiness and wants. “Thank You”. You gave his hand a squeeze.

Gojo pouted. “You insult me by saying that. So don’t do that”.

You giggled and shook your head. Keisuke cooed in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes. “Look who’s up! My baby woke up! You missed me?!”. Your eyes widened and you spoke in your baby voice. 

He looked at you with all the love in his eyes. You were smiling gently, a strand of your hair fell softly across your cheek but you didn’t notice it. Your gaze fixed on your baby. Gojo could feel his heart turn into a jelly. He could just stare at you being you all day. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn’t want to lose you. He would rather die in this moment than see you walk away from him. His life wasn’t his anymore, it was yours. His love was yours. His happiness was yours.

Yuri stood there for the longest time,paralyzed,frozen in the moment, stunned, everyone left one by one. Gojo didn’t bother stopping for a second to talk to her. She had never been treated like this before. Ever. It hurt her heart but it hurt her pride more. The look on your face was ingrained in her mind. She turned around to ask for someone but everyone had left. She sighed and made her way to Gojo’s office to take the file she needed. She smirked thinking how Gojo was playing the part of a doting husband but a Tiger never loses its stripes. Soon he would be bored of the redundant domestic life and would be back to his old self. But you, you had to be dealt with as soon as possible and Yuri knew just what to do.

-X-

You stood next to Gojo and watched the men set up the crib right next to your side of the bed. Both of you were unsure about letting Keisuke sleep alone in another room. There were many reasons behind your hesitation, safety, attachment but above all you weren’t sure if you could stay in the room with Gojo all alone. 

Though Gojo didn’t share your third problem he shared the first two. By now he was used to Keisuke’s sleep cycle and surprisingly woke up seconds before he did and rocked him back to sleep. He didn’t mind doing this at all. In fact he was proud of it. Everytime Keisuke fell asleep on his shoulder his heart healed a little. The little drool droplet staining his t-shirt reminded him that he was a father now. Gojo had spent countless sleepless nights the past year but these were the best kind. The kind that he wanted. He had learnt a lot in the past few days, like Keisuke needed Mr.Carrot everytime he was being fed. He did not like being held in his left arm. He loved playing with your locket or your hair. He liked his blue sock more than his red sock and his favorite jumper was the one that you had knitted for him. 

There were things that he picked up about you too. Somehow you could differentiate between a hungry cry and an irritated cry. You were still shy while feeding him, which Gojo didn’t understand. You always get tired after feeding him and at that time it’s best to let you sleep for a while. You had to take your medication twice a day at 11AM and 7PM. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes everytime he played with Keisuke. Your favorite word to call Keisuke was “munchkin” and Gojo knew, with all his heart, that you liked holding his hand even if you’d never initiate it. He looked over to you and then intertwined his left hand with yours. He could see the corner of your lips curl up and smiled to himself. 

“It’s done sir”. The manager that came along spoke with a wide smile.

Both you and Gojo walked over and inspected the newly built crib. It was sturdy and comfortable. You connected your  phone to the built-in camera and were quite satisfied with the security system. While Gojo thanked the men, you stared at the crib and couldn’t help but think about the empty one sitting in your old apartment. Amidst all this you had forgotten about that. 

“Everything okay?”. Gojo asked as he walked over to you.

You nodded your head but your eyes were fixed on the crib.

“If you don’t like it we can get another one”. Gojo said. Your face was hard to read at times like this. It scared him. 

You shook your head and smiled at him. “It’s nice. Bit too big for him but it’s perfect”.

Gojo smiled hesitantly. “It’s big enough for the two of you”. 

You chuckled. “For now let’s see if he likes it”. 

Gojo tried to put Keisuke down in the crib but Keisuke gripped his hair making Gojo wince a little. You walked over and tried to take Keisuke out of his hand but he wouldn’t let go of Gojo’s hair. 

“Let Satoru go, baby”. You took Keisuke in your arms but he refused to let go of Gojo’s hair so now Gojo stood next to you with his head bowed down as Keisuke giggled. “This tiny devil. Where does he get his strength from?”. You muttered as you tried to open his fist wrapped around Gojo’s hair. 

Gojo chuckled as he winced. He was having just as much fun with this as Keisuke. 

“Stop laughing Satoru!”. You warned but couldn’t control your own laughter as the father son duo bursted out laughing harder. “Stop! What do I do with the two of you?!”. You groaned but they started laughing harder. It was annoying knowing that even though you were stronger than Keisuke, he was a baby and no matter how hard  you try you could never show the full extent of your strength. You wondered how Gojo found this amusing given that he was now bent down to your height and you were sure his back hurt. 

Gojo’s neck hurt but Keisuke’s giggled mixed with your annoyed laugh was worth the pain. He stepped forward to make it easier for you to hold Keisuke and untangle his hand, unintentionally caging you between his body and the crib. His hands rested on the railing on either side and Keisuke was only pulling him closer. His heart was beating out of his chest. He was so close to you. He felt like a teenage boy being in close proximity to his crush.

Keisuke let go of his hair when you tickled him. Gojo stood up straight with a heavy sigh and your mouth hung open when you saw his flushed face. 

“Oh no”. You frowned. “Did it hurt a lot?”. You said and started rubbing the spot behind his ear where Keisuke had his death grip. “Ahh it must have hurt”.

“I’m fine, y/n”. Gojo smiled and bent down with his hands still by your side and smiled at you. “I am perfectly fine”.  He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.  

You bit your lip and turned around to face the crib and gently put Keisuke inside. Gojo pulled out his polaroid camera from the bedside drawer and stood next to you. He focused the camera on Keisuke and clicked his photo. “His first time in his new crib”.

Gojo had been taking pictures of you and Keisuke ever since your first day. You didn’t mind him doing that. It made him happy. You bit your lip nervously contemplating your intentions. But looking at Gojo smiling widely at the photo and then crouching down to show Keisuke his photo made all your doubts disappear.

“Satoru..”. You spoke and rested your hand on the railing.

“Yes?”. Gojo looked up at you and then stood up.

“Do you..”. You bit the inside of your cheek. “Do you want to see ..ummm..photos?”.

Gojo stared blankly at you. “Which photos?”.

“Mine and Keisuke’s..I mean when I was..you know..carrying him?”.

Gojo’s silence made you question everything you just said. But then he smiled, “Yes! Yes I do! Can we see them now?! Please”. Gojo couldn’t believe it. This was a win for him. You were letting him in your life. Heck yeah he wanted to see the photos!

You chuckled. “Didn’t you have that meeting?”. You remembered Jerry reminding Gojo about a seemingly important meeting he had in the afternoon. 

“It can wait!”. Gojo was getting too excited. You chuckled, he was already ready to head out for the meeting as soon as the crib was finished. Now his light blue shirt had a tiny dark blue spit stain on the right shoulder. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair disheveled. He looked more like he was returning from the meeting than heading to one.

“Alright, I’ll get the album”. You shook your head and turned to walk to the closet where you had kept the bag. You were still hesitant about using the clothes he had bought for you and relied on the ones you bought at the mall. It upset Gojo a little but he gave you your space and time.

“There is a whole album?!”. Gojo exclaimed as he followed you.

“Satoru calm down! Sit with Keisuke and I will get it”. You spoke without looking back but you knew Gojo stopped and sat on the bed obediently. 

When you walked out with the tiny baby blue album you saw Gojo sitting on the bed with his back resting against the soft backrest and his legs crossed in front, he had a small pout on his face but what made him even more adorable was the fact that he was playing with Mr.Giraffe.

You crawled on your side of the bed and sat next to him. “Ready?”? You asked, keeping the album on your lap.

“Yes!”. Gojo spoke excitedly.

You opened the album and the first photo was of your ultrasound. Gojo slid down and rested his head on your shoulder. You realized that this was the closest you had been with him but you didn’t move him. 

Gojo touched the photo and saw a glimpse of you in that room, looking at the screen. He could almost imagine himself to be sitting by your side, seeing your baby for the first time. “He looks like a bean”.

“Yeah he does”. You smiled.

“But I can already tell that he is as handsome as his father”. Gojo said smugly. It was something he would have said had he been there at the moment.

You chuckled and slipped the page. The next photo was of you in front of the mirror with the hem of your tank top lifted up to reveal the almost there baby bump. “This was in three months..almost three months”. 

Gojo hummed. You looked beautiful. Tired. Exhausted but beautiful. He could see your eyebags but he could also see your beautiful smile. “You look tired here. Why?”. He asked, staring at the photo.

“I had trouble sleeping those days”. You flipped the page.

Gojo didn’t need to ask why you had trouble sleeping. He knew. He knew very well.

You chuckled looking at the next photo. “Mrs.Itadori insisted that I have a maternity photoshoot. It was so awkward”. You smiled looking at the photos of you taken in the backyard with blue balloons and blue cake. 

Gojo smiled. It was adorable. He wished he was there standing behind you. His eyes welled up thinking that no matter how much he tried he could never be there. It was all in the past. He cannot go back in time and sit by your bed when you had the ultrasound, or feel the first kick, or deal with your cravings and morning sickness. He was never going to be there. As you flipped through the pages your belly grew and so did your smile. Gojo’s heart felt lighter knowing that you were happy. Some photos were taken candidly when you were working at the snack bar and others were taken against the light yellow wall of your living room. 

As you showed him the last photo of you holding Keisuke in your arms in the hospital, Gojo felt like he was witnessing it firsthand. He felt like he was the one standing behind the camera. But he knew that at that time, in that instant he was far away from you. He stared at the photo blanky and felt guilty, guilty for not being there to hold your hand, guilty for not being there to wipe the  sweat off your face, guilty for not sitting by your side and listening to every curse word you threw at him. 

You could sense his body tensing at each photo and you wondered if you had done the right thing. But sooner or later you had to show him these. 

"Are you okay?". You asked, looking sideways.

Gojo rested his chin on your shoulder and smiled widely. "You are a beautiful mother". 

"Don't you have a meeting to go to?". You asked.

Gojo held your eye contact and smirked. "I don't want to go". 

"Satoru..you should go".  You spoke softly. 

Gojo held your hand instead and pouted. It made you smile how similar this needy face was to the one in the crib. "Please don't make me go". 

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back". You raised an eyebrow and hoped that your reason falls on the smarter part of his brain.

"But if I don't go at all then-".

"Satoru!".

Gojo groaned and got out of the bed. He leaned over the crib and smiled at Keisuke. "Your mom is a meanie". He scrunched his nose and turned to walk towards the door where his coat hung neatly on the stand. 

You scoffed. "Ouch. Are you taking it to him now?". Your gaze followed him as he walked over to the stand. 

"Someone should listen to me". Gojo winked as he put on the coat. 

"Have a good time". 

Gojo chuckled and walked out of the bedroom. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over the crib. "I'm not a meanie". 

Keisuke blew a raspberry and you got your answer. He was your adorable munchkin but he was Gojo's little devil. 

-X-

Gojo walked through the marble hallway, adjusting his Gojo clan cufflinks. Everyone moved out of his way and he didn't notice how many doors opened for him. You were right, the sooner he is done with this the sooner he will get to go back to you. But every second away from you seemed like a wasted time. His heart was hardly at peace. He was also excited. Excited to finally sleep next to you. Maybe you'll let him hold you. He blushed slightly thinking about waking up tomorrow with you in his arms. Men stiffened when he walked past not knowing that once called as the ice Prince was now gushing on the inside.

He walked into his chamber. It was different from his formal office. It was made entirely out of white marble with black carpet covering every inch of the flood. Gojo's trusted men stood on either side of the room. These men were the ones who handled various aspects of his clan business. Some managed exports. Some managed casinos. Some managed real estate. They all reported to him twice a week. 

Today was going to be a long day. Gojo had to take care of many things which included administering justice over those who hurt his business. He walked over to his chair or as others referred to as his throne and sat down. His men sat in their respective chairs lined on either side of his'. 

"Start". Gojo said. His face, devoid of any expression or emotions.

"Sir". One of the men stood up and bowed down to him. "I will be sending my men to vacate the village for our new factory. It will be done by this weekend but I need more manpower".

Gojo started at the man. "Leave it. We don't need to make that factory anymore". 

"But sir we had promised Mr.Ian the partnership. He had invested 120 million and now he is asking about the work".

Gojo knew it was the same village where he had met you. If he goes ahead with the plan then it would crush your heart but moreover it would be unfair to people who take care of you. He wanted to thank them the best way possible and maybe this was his chance to do so.

Gojo's gaze sent a chill down the man's spine. "Pay him double and tell him that I changed my mind. If he creates any more problems then set up a meeting with me". 

The man smiled politely and bowed down. "Yes, Sir".

"Next". Gojo said, taking a sip of his tea. 

Yuta stood up and bowed down. But before he could speak the doors opened. Everyone turned towards the door and shifted slightly in their seats as Yuri walked in wearing a form fitting red dress with a slit so high that it almost reached her waist. The sweetheart neckline plunged deep enough that left little to imagination. Her heels clicked on the floor as she smiled sweetly looking at the only man she wore the dress for. 

"Hello, Satoru". He spoke softly as she bent down to kiss his ring. 

Gojo gulped harshly. He felt irritated in her presence. He felt like the closer she was to him the farther you'd go away from him and he didn't want that. "What are you doing here?". He asked coldly. 

Yuri's smile faltered. Gojo was never cold to her. Not this cold anyway..

"I came to attend the meeting". Yuri smiled. 

"You are not required here".

"Oh come on Satoru. Only because I am a little late that doesn't mean-".

Before Yuri could finish what she was saying, Gojo stood up, making her take a few steps back. All the men stood up immediately.

"Get out now!". Gojo warned. "Let me make it clear to everyone". Gojo spoke, looking straight at Yuri but his message was for everyone. "Yuri… is not allowed on this estate anymore. Her work is limited to the office. Am I clear?". 

Yuri scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. "Is this because of her? God I can't believe she could be so jealous! Did you forget that I was there with you when you thought that she was dead! God! That fucking bi-"

Yuri's words died down in her throat as her eyes focused on the gun pointed at her. "I dare you to finish that sentence". Gojo had a devilish grin on his face. His insanity reflecting in his eyes. He didn't care. He was insane, he knew that. He knew that he would pull the trigger without a second thought if Yuri, or anyone dared insult you.

Tears rolled down Yuri's cheeks. This was insulting…heartbreaking. "Sa..Satoru". 

"I asked, am I clear?!". Gojo yelled, loud enough for the security outside to hear.

The guards immediately marched in and stood around her. 

"Escort Ms.Yuri out and make sure she doesn't step foot in this estate again!". 

Yuri watched in horror as the guard stood between her and Gojo. She turned around without any resistance but held her head high as she walked out.

Gojo sat down and gulped down the glass of water kept on the table. He couldn't believe Yuri would do something like this when he had told her not to show up at the estate under any circumstances. She defied his orders and risked his marriage. What if you would have seen her here, dressed like that? Behaving like that? Gojo couldn't risk it. He immediately picked up his phone and opened the app which showed the video from his bedroom. He was glad he had gotten cameras installed in the bedroom the day the two of you went out. He smiled gently when he saw that you were playing with Keisuke. You were fine. There was no way you could have seen her.

He calmed himself down and took another sip of his tea.  

"Where were we?". He asked looking at Yuta and continued the work.

The meeting was going on for longer than he had thought. He was tired and exhausted. His head was hurting listening to his men argue over some petty thing. He knew that sometimes it was necessary to let men fight. But he was getting sick of the same he said-she said. 

"Enough!". He yelled. The men stopped arguing and shared a look of fear. "Now you..". Gojo pointed to the man on his right. "Pay him back the money you borrowed!". 

The man stepped forward with tears in his eyes and bowed down. "I can't. I need more time".

Gojo leaned back. "You promised him money in six weeks so you will pay him back".

"I can't. Sir, my wife just gave birth and both my daughter and wife are admitted in hospital. I need money for their bills. Just 6 more weeks and I promise I will pay him back". 

Gojo contemplated for a while. “I will pay him back on your behalf and you have 6 months to pay me back”. Gojo said calmly. 

The man had tears in his eyes and bowed down to thank him. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”.

Gojo smiled warmly. This was the last meeting of the day. He checked his watch, it was already 10 PM. He got up and dismissed everyone. He was tired and could feel his body giving up. He needed sleep. 

-X-

Groggily he made his way to his..your bedroom. He struggled to keep his eyes open and mind focused. All the work that he had kept aside for the past weeks hit him like a tidal wave. Even in the state of tiredness he still remembered the album you showed him. He smiled to himself. He didn’t tell you but a part of him broke at the thought of not being there when his son was born. Regardless, he had time now. Time to heal your wounds and save his life.

He entered the dim room and squinted his eyes to see clearly. Were you asleep already? He sighed and slowly made his way into the room. 

“Satoru?”. 

His head turned in the direction of your voice and saw you slowly get up from the bed. “Hey”.

You got off from the bed and made your way to where he was standing. 

“It’s alright. Please go back to sleep”. Gojo whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up”.

You chuckled as you subbed your eye. “It’s alright. I just put Keisuke to sleep”. You looked up and saw the pair of tired eyes looking down at you. “You look tired, Rough day?”. 

Gojo nodded, he held your hand and shook then gently. “Rough day”.

“Did you eat dinner?”. 

Gojo pondered over your words and then shook his head. “Too tired”. 

You sighed. On one hand you knew it was not right for him to skip dinner and on the other hand you could sense his body swaying and struggling to stand up. “Should I make something for you?”.

Gojo shook his head again. 

“Do you want to wash up first?”. 

Gojo shook his head again. 

You smiled to yourself. “Fine, let’s sleep then”. 

Gojo followed you back to bed but instead of getting on his side he made his way to the crib. “Did you guys have a good day?”. He asked before leaning down to press a kiss on Keisuke’s head. 

“Your son got into a fight with Mr.Giraffe”. You smiled and watched as Gojo walked over and got on his side of the bed. “You’re not going to change?”.

Gojo shook his head as he removed his cufflinks and belt and kept it on his bedside table. Maybe it was the tiredness or maybe it was the raw need to feel you close to him after a day like this but as soon as Gojo got inside the blankets he did not hesitate to pull you closer to him. HIs one hand draped over your waist and the other rested snugly under your head. 

You were shocked…surprised…scared…happy. Your mind went from adjusting to the proximity to how big his biceps felt. You were engulfed by his expensive cologne and you were sure you’d smell the same by morning and for some reason it made you happy. Hesitantly you put your arm over him and relaxed into the embrace. 

“So tell me, what did Mr.Giraffe do?”. Gojo asked as he rubbed slow circles on your back. 

You chuckled and looked at him. “How do you know it was Mr.Giraffe at fault?”.

“My son..our son..at fault? No chance”. Gojo smiled.

“You are going to spoil him, you know that right?”. You corked an eyebrow and whispered in the space between you two.

“I know”.

“Go to sleep Satoru”.

Gojo hummed. He was tired but he didn’t want this moment to end. He had never felt more alive. He had you in his arms. After years that felt like ages. He could feel the softness of your body, your curves, he could smell the sweet mixture of shampoo and bodywash, he could feel the softness of your hair, he could feel you breathing in his arms. He knew that things could take a turn for worse at any moment and he wanted to preserve every second of his moment. 

“Satoru?”. You called out again and Gojo snapped out of his thoughts.

“I don’t want to sleep just yet. Keep talking to me..please”. 

You smiled and began narrating your boring day to him. He listened intently about Keisuke’s fight with a stuffed giraffe and how he threw a fit when you bathed him and that’s how you got baby shampoo in your eyes. He listened to you rant about how Keisuke refused to wear the yellow onesie and only agreed to wear the red one. He smiled at your frustration with your son and your concern that Gojo's behavior was rubbing off on him. Somewhere between the evening walk in the park and dinner you fell asleep. 

Gojo smiled, he didn’t wake you up. He caressed your cheek softly and pressed a featherlight kiss on your cheek. “I love you..so much”. He whispered and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.He watched you breathe softly in his arms, to him you were the embodiment of purity and innocence. A ray of hope in his dark life. He thought how twisted his fate was, but maybe the gods were testing him. Maybe they wanted him to be a better man to deserve an angel like you. But he knew that even if never became the man the gods wanted him to be, he would still fight for you. The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was how you clutched his shirt in your sleep. He fell asleep with a smile on his face thinking how both you and Keisuke had this one trait in common.

When you opened your eyes the next morning you realized how tightly Gojo held on to you in his sleep. His shirt crumpled, hair disheveled, mouth agape, soft breaths. You tried to lift his arm but he only pulled you closer. He didn't seem awake at all and yet he didn't want to let you go. You relaxed into his embrace and watched the way his hands wrapped around your waist. You gently ran your finger over his pink and scarred knuckles. Your heart sank thinking how the hands that hold you so delicately and firmly are the same hands that have taken a life. Life of your friend…your mind went back to Hiro. It was still unclear what happened to him. Gojo denied killing him but he didn't give any further explanation. You knew Hiro was dead. You knew it in your heart but you needed to know who killed him..

"Good morning love". 

Gojo's raspy voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Good morning". You smiled softly.

"Slept well?". He asked, looking at you through half lidded eyes. 

"Mmhmm. You?".

Gojo didn't reply but smiled and nodded his head. 

"We should get up". You tried to get up but his strong arms brought you back to your place. 

"I don't want to". Gojo groaned. 

"Satoru!". 

Gojo groaned and huffed for a while before loosening his grip on you. 

-X-

You walked in the gardens of the estate with Keisuke in his stroller. Your mind had been stuck on the same question, Who killed Hiro? You wondered if you could take Gojo’s word for it and move on with your life. He has been a good father and great husband to you. You knew you loved and believed him when he told you that he loves you. You knew that he loved Keisuke more than his own life. You knew that nothing could ever harm the two of you as long as you were with Gojo and yet…you wanted to know one thing you didn’t know. Who killed Hiro? The one month mark was closing in on you and so far you had no reason to leave Gojo. You had asked about his character to maids and other workers and they all had good things to say. He helped people who worked for him without expecting anything in return, he wasn’t strict and uptight. He wasn’t cruel. You had no reason to leave him and it terrified you. It was scary to think that you had probably punished a good and innocent man. Took away so many things from him. 

You bit your lip nervously and shook your head. You were sure he had killed people. You were sure of that. But you knew he wasn’t like other ordinary men. Nothing about him was ordinary. He was born into this out of the ordinary world and he did what he had to do to survive. But did you have the right to punish him for that?

“Is everything alright Mrs.Gojo?”. 

You snapped out of your thoughts and turned back to see Jerry standing with a silver tray. “Oh! Hi Jerry. Yeah everything is fine”.

Jerry studied your face for a minute and then smiled. “Perhaps we should sit and have some tea, the sun is getting high now”.

You looked at the sky and scrunched your nose. Jerry was right. You had lost track of your time and now your morning walk was turning into a noon walk. You nodded and followed Jerry to the Gazebo on the shadier side of the garden. 

The two of you sat down and you checked to see that Keisuke had fallen asleep. 

“Is there anything bothering you?”. Jerry asked as he poured  iced tea in a crystal glass.

You pondered over his question for a bit and instead of answering it, you presented a question of your own. “Jerry, if I ask you something about Satoru, would you be honest with  me?”.

“Absolutely!”. Jerry sat down opposite you.

“Even if the answer is unpleasant?”.

Jerry smiled warmly revealing his experience in smile lines and wrinkles. “Especially if the answer is unpleasant. You are his wife and it is my duty to serve you with loyalty and honesty”. 

“Can you..I mean..I want to know what happened in the last year with Satoru”.

Jerry’s warm conduct was now shadowed by a dark cloud. It felt like he didn’t want to visit those memories in the past and yet he knew that he had promised you honesty.

“I didn’t know much about what happened whenMaster Gojo was away for those few days but when he returned, he was not the man I knew. For the first few weeks he refused to leave his room. He would barely eat or drink and would stay in his bed all day. Then it started…”. Jerry drifted off.

“What..started?”.You asked hesitantly.

“I think we can call it hallucinations…”. 

Gojo opened his phone to check up on you. It was about time for you to return from your morning walks. He frowned when he saw the bedroom empty. His heartbeat picked up and he refreshed the screen again and again. Nothing. He picked up the desk phone,

“Is she back from her walk?”. Gojo asked as soon as the head of security of the estate picked up.

Gojo cold rattling and shuffling. “Is she back or not?!”. He screamed on the phone.

“Np, sir”.

Gojo picked up his jacket and was about to walk out to search for you when he heard the man speak again, “She is in the garden”.

Gojo frowned and sat down. “At this time?”. 

“Ye sir, it seems she is having tea with Jerry”.

Gojo’s phone chimed and he picked it up to see a live feed from the gardens. He could feel his pulse slowly return to normal. He smiled at the screen, he could see the stroller and was sure that Keisuke was asleep. He locked the phone and leaned back against his chair. Everything was fine. You were safe.

“..so you’re telling me that he saw ghosts?”. You frowned. Everything that Jerry had told you shook you to the core. Gojo was traumatized. You did that to him. 

“Well you are right here so I am sure it was hallucinations”.

You nodded your head slowly, “Is he still seeing his therapist?”.

“No ma’am. He stopped a month before he met you”.

“Why is that?”. You leaned forward and twirled the glass in your hand. The honey coloured liquid inside danced along with the reflecting sunlight like it was enjoying listening to the misfortune of a man.

“His insomnia was in control and he hadn’t had any panic attacks in a while either”. 

You hummed and sipped the last of your drinks. 

“Ma’am, Mr.Gojo is not as strong as everyone believed him to be”.

“What do you mean?”.

Jerry sighed and gulped hard. “He ..has tried to do things”.

“What things?”. You had a bad feeling about this but you had to know. If it was about Gojo you had to know. 

Jerry looked up at you apologetically.

“Please, Jerry. I have to know. You know I do”.

Jerry averted his gaze and nodded his head. “Mr.Gojo, on more than one occasion had tried to take his own life”. 

The glass slipped from your hand and landed on the cool terracotta floor. You couldn’t hear the birds chirping or the window blowing. You couldn’t feel the sunlight on your skin and neither did you hear Jerry calling out to you. “Sa…satoru…why..why would he..?”. You looked up at Jerry with tears streaming down your cheek.  

"He really thought he had lost you. I have raised him ma'am. I have taken him to school and worked on his school homework. His father, may god rest his soul, was not a kind man. He was so hard on him. Physically and mentally. Master Gojo was so young, too young to understand what's right and wrong. He had made many wrong choices in his life but I had never seen him like that. He didn't shed a tear during his father's funeral but I have heard his cries from the other side of the door everyday for the past one year. His life looks good from the outside but I have seen his life. It's anything but picture perfect". 

You sat quietly and listened to Jerry. Everything seemed to make sense now. Gojo was not a perfect man but that doesn't mean he deserved what he got. You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. You wondered the strength it took for him to overcome all that. He didn't know what love was as a child and yet you have seen him give his all to Keisuke. 

"He is… truly something then". You chuckled. 

"Yes ma'am he is".

"Jerry, would you please take Keisuke back to room. I'd like to see Satoru". 

-X-

Gojo checked his watch, it was almost lunch time. He could either have lunch or go back to you early. His priorities were clear. Right now he sat opposite two ruling party leaders talking about the outcome of the coming elections. Elections cost money. Gojo had money. 

"Mr.Gojo, we understand that the Gojo group can not openly support us but your contribution matters a lot. We appreciate that our ideas align".

Gojo smiled diplomatically. Gojo hated both sides and he was funding both the parties. Regardless of who comes in power they were all puppets to him anyway. 

He thought he heard your voice outside but ignored it. Then he heard it again and now he was sure something was happening on the other side of the door.

He saw a guard walk towards him and raised an eyebrow. 

The guard bent down and whispered near his ear, "Mrs.Gojo is here to see you. Should I send her away?". 

Gojo smiled, "let her in".

Gojo rested his chin on his knuckles and watched the wooden doors open. The two politicians turned their heads in the direction of his gaze. 

You looked confused. Cute. Adorable. Gojo bit his lip looking at your doe eyes trying to take it all in. You looked out of place in this room in your white floral dress and messy bun. You gave him a short smile as you walked with your hands clasped at the front. Gojo smiled back, Letting you know that you were okay.

You bowed at the politicians and now cursed yourself for interrupting his meeting. You looked at him, smiling at you, like everything that happened with him never happened at all. Now you could see the scarred and broken man behind the sweet smile. 

"Hi". You spoke and gave Gojo a short wave.

Gojo chuckled. "Hi, how can I help you love?".

"I…". You looked at the two men staring at you wide eyed. "...I can come back later. I don't -".

"Leave". Gojo cut you off. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You pressed your lips together and nodded. You were about to turn around when Gojo stopped you.

"Not you love". He spoke softly. He glared at the two men.."you two, leave". 

Your mouth hung open as you watched the two men, whom you were sure you had seen on TV scurry out of the room.

Gojo walked around the table and sat on the edge of the table with his hand crossed. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having my wife visit me at work". He spoke in a tone that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You stepped closer to him, hesitantly. "I..I was thinking about what you said. I think we should get a nanny". 

Gojo's eyes widened and that surprised you. "It's not that I can't take care of him. I-". 

Before you could finish your nervous rant Gojo pulled you closer to him. His hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of the dress. 

"We'll get a nanny". 

You smiled. He looked just as he did years ago in the office but something was missing.. "You don't wear a tie anymore?". You asked suddenly. 

Gojo's smile dropped. "Yeah…I don't feel like wearing it anymore". 

You understood the reason and felt stupid for bringing it up. To lighten the mood you resolved to teasing, "Be honest Satoru, is it because you still can't tie it properly?". 

Gojo looked at you and then burst out laughing. He pulled closer and now had you standing between his legs. He groaned thinking that you'd leave now and he'd have to go another five hours without you. 

"Don't go". Gojo pleaded. 

"I live on the other end of the house". 

Gojo rested his forehead on your shoulder and gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "Too far". 

You chuckled. "I have to go and deal with another clingy baby".

Gojo looked up at the wall clock, "he must be asleep now and he will probably sleep for another 30 minutes".

You were surprised. "Satoru! That's…accurate". 

Gojo beamed produly. "I'm a good father right?".

You looked at him, even though his eyes had a hint of sarcasm you knew that deep down he wanted the affirmation. "Yes you are. You're the best dad". 

Gojo's smile after hearing your words could only be described as one of a kind. 

"The nanny will be here by tomorrow morning. You can meet her before letting her see Keisuke".

You nodded your head. "Satoru…". You asked, absentmindedly playing with the buttons of his shirt. 

"Yes, love?". 

"I think we should get a family photo. Keisuke is still quite young so it's the right time". 

Gojo smiled a wide…devilish smile. 

"Nothing too extravagant!!". You protested before Gojo could even say anything.

He laughed at your response. "Alright alright. Tell me what kind you want and we'll get it". 

"Good! Now I gotta go to my other baby". You scrunched up your nose and tried to pull away but Gojo won't let you. 

"Satoru!". You widened your eyes to warn him.

"I didn't do anything". Gojo shrugged. 

"Let me go!". You tried to break free but he didn't budge. 

"I'm not stopping you". He said nonchalantly. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed. "Do you really want our son to murder Mr.giraffe?".

Gojo hummed. "We can't have that happening". 

"Exactly we can't. So let me-".

"But on the other hand-".

"Gojo Satoru!". You warned. 

Gojo let you go and gave a 90 degree bow. You chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Focus on your work! I'll see you for dinner!".

"Yes ma'am!". Gojo straightened up with a smirk. 

You walked out of the office smiling like you haven't smiled in years. 

Gojo turned around as the door closed and got back to his work. But he was not the same person he was moments before. He still wanted to rush through work and run to see you on the other side of the house but before everything, he ordered 30 ties. Truth be told Gojo has been tying his tie since he was five.

@hiqhkey @chemtrails-club @simplyrosesxr @foggyperfectiondragon @sofi786 @vesta-ro @kimvmarvel @mykyoon @shintin @attackonsimpp @pyschopotatomeme @lilith412426 @shuxjodie @sagejin @cloudsinthecosmos @hecateria @froggylust @lightblueexorcist @watyousayin @creolequeen11210 @s13nnnna @shartnart1 @the-crane-wives @musababy @loquia @ackerstain @allofffmypeaches @regalillegal @erintaro @commandertorinshepard @gojo-sunglasses @tspice283 @iam-mia9 @screwyou3 @denypipa @smolkazumi @winter-bearv @mc-reborn @pangolynnn @sindela @daintyazra @purpleguk @iam-mia9 @sammyiguess @ritsatoru @5seos

Thank you guys for supporting the story so far 💖

I love you 💖

[nametakensff]

I like you too (S/teddie)

So after fucking forever I have finally finished the ~getting together~ fic of my mutual fetish AU 💕 Anyone who is still interested after like a year of teasing this shit, I hope you enjoy 17.8k of these idiots 🥲❤️

Following his embarrassing allergy attack at S/teve's house the night prior, having figured out S/teve may actually have the same interests, E/ddie starts up on his plan to drive S/teve crazy with his allergies - hopefully to the point of drawing a confession out of him. What could possibly go wrong?

(Carrying on directly from this fic, but you don't need to re-read it!)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, pre-relationship then getting together, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, hay fever sneezes, sneezing from manual inducing, sneezing from fragrance, sneezing from direct exposure to flowers, inducing someone else, spray, handkerchiefs, lots of making out lol, masturbation, teasing, exhibitionism/voyeurism, hand jobs, frotting, dirty talk, teasing, sneezing on each other

CW: Internalised homophobia, threats of physical violence, shame towards the fetish, E/ddie really pushes S/teve's boundaries and they get ANGSTY, did I mention angst, miscommunication and jealousy, S/teve is a messy airhead who sneezes all over items in public and does not clean it up, they have a brief bad time before a good one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“…-ddie. Hey, Eddie.”

“..mmmn?”

Eddie felt the welcome cocoon of sleep receding at the sensation of a finger jabbing persistently into his ribs. He snorted unhappily, attempting to roll away from the unwelcome prods but merely earning himself an even harder prod between his shoulder blades. Willing himself to pass back out wasn’t working. He grumbled and peered blearily over his shoulder through a mess of curls. Max’s placid face hovered over him. He blinked dumbly up at her, momentarily unaware of what Mayfield was doing in his bedroom. Then he heard a giggle - another girl. His eyes swivelled to El, lingering behind Max, a cheeky grin on her face as she took in the sight of his hazy confusion.

“Wha..?”

“Steve told us to wake you up and ask you what you wanted for breakfast.”

“…Steve?”

And just like that, he remembered everything. Hanging out at Steve’s place. His insane allergic reaction in front of everybody. And Steve…Steve had come to reassure him in the bathroom. And he’d –

“Well, fuck.” Eddie blurted out and snorted a little in amusement, making the two girls jump.

Steve had fucking liked that shit. He was convinced of it. God. He closed his eyes and grinned, a sudden, childish giddiness overwhelming him.

“Um…Okay…?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open. The girls. Right.

“Shit, yeah – sorry, Red. I’m fine with whatever – cereal, toast, you know – whatever he’s offering.”

He shifted and pulled himself into an upright sitting position, about to swing his legs over the side of – Steve’s? Definitely Steve’s – bed, when he suddenly realised that he was very naked, aside from his boxers. Max took one glance at the bare torso he struggled to shield with two scrambling palms and seemed to pick up on his dilemma – super smart kid – before pulling El by the wrist towards the door.

“Cereal. Toast. Got it.” She droned, not bothering to look back. El pulled the door shut behind them, and Eddie heard the pair of them giggle as they made their way downstairs.

Now that he was alone, he sighed heavily and took the time to glance around. Yep, it was Steve’s room, all right. As neat and empty as his own was chaotic. He remembered that last night he’d taken more allergy meds and all but passed out in the living room while the movie viewing had commenced. It kind of sucked that he’d been unconscious for it, but it beat sneezing his head off uncontrollably for a captive audience any more than he already had. He blushed a little, still embarrassed by the whole thing despite the litany of reassurances and concern everyone had directed his way the second he reemerged from his shameful little sanctuary in the bathroom. He’d made a scene, passed out and – maybe, somehow, woken up long enough to get to Steve’s room and strip down before climbing into his bed? He blinked. Total blackout.

He noticed an inflatable mattress with a discarded blanket sprawled across it lying on the floor next to the bed. Presumably, Steve had slept there. Eddie felt both relieved and disappointed – sharing a bed with Steve was pure fantasy fodder, but to be so drugged up he couldn’t remember it would have been weird and more than a little depressing. Especially now that he knew Steve’s little secret. Their little secret. He smirked, couldn’t help it, almost vibrating with excitement at what he knew he had to do. Operation: tease Steve with his allergies until something fucking gives.

It was a ridiculous and somewhat risky plan – or so he would have thought, if he hadn’t seen in Steve a mirror image of his own fetishistic arousal, clear as day. He felt emboldened, convinced that this was the perfect little way to segue into a relationship of some kind with the former jock. His allergies were as good an ice-breaker as any. Speaking of…

Eddie’s nostrils began to flare, that oh-so familiar buzzing irritation creeping its way through his sinuses. It wasn’t nearly as bad as yesterday when he’d effectively sneezed himself awake, thank god – maybe that double dose of meds he’d taken had a lingering effect? Either way, he was going to have to sneeze, a regular part of his morning routine this time of year. He allowed himself to settle back against the headboard, steeling himself as his breath hitched up and up, eyes scrunching closed as the tingling itch morphed into a sharper, more definitive tickle. It may not have been as demanding as the morning prior, but it was teasing, leaving him trapped in what felt like a never-ending buildup. He found himself waving a hand in front of his face, eyelashes damp with allergic tears. He hoped the desperate gesture would hasten the tickle along – if not, it felt relieving to have something to do whilst otherwise incapacitated.

Finally, after a couple of embarrassingly dramatic false starts that both amused and aroused him as they echoed out in the (thankfully) empty room, the tickle reached its apex. His shoulders shook with three rapid hitches of breath, mouth gaping open and pink tongue cupping itself against his bottom teeth. At last he was curling forward with an intensely relieving fit.

"HehH'ENGxt'TSchieww!! IhH'TSHieww!! ESSHieww! Huh'ISSSHhuu!! Eh'Ngxtt'ieww!!"

He let them out unhindered, not wanting to sneeze directly into the fabric of the bed sheets, but for lack of any means to cover other than his hands, he decided he would rather save himself the mess. He sneezed openly and down towards his lap, sending a delicate aerosol of spray across Steve’s bedding. As he shook with each eruption, his mind couldn’t help but conjure up the image of Steve stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching him as he lost control, enjoying the way he was utterly helpless to the tickle in his itchy, pink nose.

"Hh-HH-!! Hah'ESHHhieww!! AESH'uuu!! Hh'IGSHH'uu!! ETCHH'iewww!! Hah!! HahH'DZZtt'Shieww!!

He was hard now, fantasies even more potent than usual. This revelation about Steve, that it was something in the realm of reality that he could – no, would – enjoy seeing him like this – it all but destroyed any means of control he had over his wandering thoughts. Through the rest of his fit he pictured the look of hunger he’d seen in Steve’s eyes the night prior – imagined Steve joining him on the bed, whispering blessings and assurances as he sneezed and dripped all over the two of them. He imagined Steve crawling into bed with him, under the sheets he had thoroughly sprayed with the result of his allergies. He even entertained the indulgent thought of Steve experiencing an unexpected (but welcome) allergic reaction of his own, returning the favour as they rutted against each other.

"hh-!! OHh, fuck! HAH!! DZZTTt'shiiewww!! IGSHH'Uuuu!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! hh-!! HAHGK'TSHHhieww!!"

His hand was on his cock, stroking and massaging in rhythm with each explosion that racked his slender frame. He shouldn’t be doing this, not while there were kids downstairs - jerking off to his own sneezes and thoughts of Steve in Steve’s bed whilst the man in question was busy making breakfast for him. Luckily, his fit was beginning to taper off, giving him enough reprieve to stand on shaky legs and manoeuvre himself over the air mattress and into Steve’s en-suite. He sneezed as he closed the door behind him, sneezed as he pulled his cock through the slit of his boxers, and sneezed as he jerked himself off into the porcelain basin of Steve’s immaculate sink.

~~~~~

Eddie stood in front of the mirror, scrunching his curls in his palms and up towards his scalp, tutting with dissatisfaction at his sub-par reflection. His unruly hair refused to cooperate, flattened in some places from sleeping awkwardly and miserably tangled in others. After he’d cum in several long streaks into the basin of the sink, moaning and steadying himself against the countertop with a shaky grip, his mind had been cleared enough to pull himself together.

Upon re-entering Steve’s room, he noticed his jeans and t-shirt, neatly folded and placed on Steve’s desk chair, as well as a little box of antihistamines and a glass of water on the bedside table. He’d dressed quickly and eagerly gulped down the water and meds, doing as best he could to untangle his mane (to little avail). He’d also taken the opportunity to clear out any residual tickles from his itchy nose into a handful of blissfully soft tissues; he was sensitive enough that just a few swipes of the delicate material against the arches of his nostrils pulled several shuddering sneezes out of him. Blowing his nose into them felt great, too. He picked up the box and turned it round in his hands, the brand name unrecognisable to him. He thought for a moment he should ask Steve where the fuck he was finding tissues like these, because it certainly wasn’t any local store he’d been privy to. It was ridiculous that the thought of doing so, discussing tissues with Steve, threatened to make him hard again. Maybe he needed a cold shower. Or a regular warm one, where he could…work through these thoughts, cock in hand.

The sound of raucous laughter from downstairs – Dustin, and then El – had him shaking his head and laughing in near-disbelief at his own uncontrollably dirty ruminations. Holy fuck, he had to pull himself together. He did just that, making his way downstairs at last, heart beating just a little bit faster at the thought of seeing Steve.

~~~~~

Gingerly walking into the kitchen, Eddie was greeted with several enthusiastic shouts from both Dustin and Robin, the former sitting at the kitchen table with El and Max, whilst Robin sat haphazardly on the kitchen counter next to the stove at which Steve was cooking some (heavenly smelling) eggs. Scrambled, by the looks of it. Eddie felt his stomach give a little growl. He was altogether starving. He brought his gaze up from the pan and locked eyes with Steve; for a split second, it felt to Eddie like they were frozen in time, something palpable and electric in the air. The hair-raising sensation vanished as quickly as it had come on, however, Steve nodding to him with a tender (if slightly nervous looking) smile and turning his attention back to the food. Eddie blinked. A little less…enthusiastic than he had hoped. Deciding not to dwell on the matter, he pulled up a chair next to Dustin, who promptly patted him on the arm.

“You okay, man?” He asked, looking up at Eddie with a look so patronisingly pitying that he barked a laugh back at him almost immediately. Dustin promptly pulled back his hand and stared at Max and El in precocious disbelief, gesturing back towards Eddie.

“Wow, you try to be there for a guy, and he laughs in your face!” the teen started dramatically, throwing his arms up. He’d clearly expected a more clandestine and grateful response from the metalhead. It was cute – he was as an obnoxious, chatty little shit, and Eddie was incredibly fond of him.

“Yeah, Dustin, ‘m’fine. I’m just busting your chops, okay?” He said as he ruffled Dustin’s hair, pulling him into a one armed hug. After a brief scuffle and a relatively painless noogie delivered via Eddie’s (ringless…mostly) right hand, the older man let go and slapped him reassuringly on the back a couple of times.

“Why do boys do – that?” El asked Max, having observed the entire affair in shocked silence.

“What – physically assault each other? It’s just how boys express love. Like men.” Max offered, rolling her eyes in a way that made El giggle in appreciation. They were definitely a cute little pair of trouble-makers, Eddie had to admit. He could take the jab. Boys were pretty dumb – as one (or, he guessed, an ex-boy – he was all man now, baby) he could definitely vouch for that. He just grinned at them as Dustin engaged Max in a squabble. It was endearing enough that he let himself get lost in listening to them bicker; the pair of them could sure go toe to toe with brutal sarcasm. It was so entertaining that he didn’t notice Steve approaching him until he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

“Hey, man.” Steve started once Eddie turned to look up at him. He stood a little awkwardly – tentatively resting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder like the older man was a delicate structure, a house of cards ready to go down with even the slightest disturbance. It irked Eddie. He wanted to cut through all the awkwardness and jump straight to the part where they had each other’s cocks in hand. Or at least each other’s tongues in their mouths.

Remember the children, Munson. It wouldn’t do to try anything quite so forward right now. Robin was watching the placement of Steve’s hand on his shoulder from her perch on the kitchen counter. And Buckley, too. Steve’s…well, definitely not his girlfriend, that much was clear. He didn’t want to overthink whatever the fuck they had going on – it didn’t seem romantic, least of all because they’d emphatically reinforced the fact with the whole ‘platonic with a capital P’ shtick. Either way, it would probably be best to work his way up to things gradually and without company.

“Hey, yourself.” He smiled his most winning smile up at Steve and was delighted to receive a brilliantly open smile in return. Whatever Steve had been worried about, it seemed to dissipate with just that small gesture.

“How are you feeling? Got breakfast for you, if you’re hungry.” Steve gestured to the stove. Robin contributed by throwing jazz hands in the general direction of the food and smiling warmly at him.

“I’m good. I could sure eat.”

Steve nodded, then hesitated for a moment. His eyes darted over Eddie’s face, making eye contact for a moment then drifting away again. Eddie cocked his head to the side a little but didn’t look away. It was clear Steve had something else he wanted to say, but it was like he was having trouble finding the words. He spoke a moment later, and Eddie listened in rapt concentration – the anxious energy emanating from Steve was doing nothing to calm his own overactive nervous system.

“I left some…meds, on the dresser for you. Did you…?”

Steve faltered, the question dying in his throat. If Eddie had previously been 99% sure Steve was an enthusiast of the same sexual persuasion, he was now 99.9%. He had to fight, actually dig his nails into his palm and bite on the inside of his cheek, to stop from grinning what he was sure would be an entirely predatory and immensely unnerving smile of smug satisfaction.

“Yeah, thanks man. Took some not too long ago.” He managed, voice stable and welcoming. He was so giddy he wanted to cackle.

“That’s – that’s good.” Steve managed. Eddie bit down harder. “Didn’t want you to suffer.”

Eddie did smile then. He absolutely wanted me to suffer, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. Eddie had to imagine that yes, whilst Steve was a great guy, despite previous assholery, the antihistamines were likely more than a kind gesture. Eddie imagined how he would feel in Steve’s shoes. If Steve was in his trailer, sneezing up a goddamn storm whilst he had company present, the majority of which was comprised of children? Yeah, he’d probably want to put a damper on that too. It was strategic. He could fuck with that.

“Yeah, they’re a real lifesaver. I mean, recently, they hardly make a difference, but still.”

His heart was pounding in his chest. This was a lot harder than he imagined it would be, if only because in trying to provoke a reaction out of Steve, he was turning himself on to no end. But he had to keep pushing. He was a man possessed.

“These days I basically just sneeze myself awake. And I just have to wait it out. Sometimes it takes like, what, fifteen minutes? It’s like my nose saved all my sneezes overnight and the second I’m conscious they just fucking overwhelm me, man.”

Steve was reacting so obviously that Eddie wondered if he wanted to be exposed. Knowing that that wasn’t the case, and that Steve simply couldn’t help practically swooning whilst he discussed his allergic struggles with him was giving him butterflies. He was torturing them both, but it was such sweet torture. Steve’s eyes were darting around, focusing anywhere other than Eddie’s face – the older man waited patiently for his response, but Robin beat him to it.

“God, that sounds like such a drag. I’m so glad I don’t have allergies. God – not to like, brag and rub it in or anything, sorry - !”

Buckley was a sweetheart. As much as Eddie wished she hadn’t interrupted and given Steve an out – said jock was now plating up a mountain of food for him, back turned – he could work with this.

“All good, Birdie. Better me than you. I’ve got fucking years of experience under my belt.”

“Still, that fucking sucks that you, like – sneeze yourself awake? I’ve never sneezed that much in my life. Except for one time Rosie Carver was wearing that insanely strong perfume – I’m talking bonkers amount of artificial lavender – to band practice, and it was awful.”

Eddie hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt, having opened the Pandora’s box that was Robin’s unmatched ability to ramble on and on. The upside to this turn of events, however, was that Steve looked almost pained with embarrassment as he placed Eddie’s plate in front of him.

“Thanks, Harrington.” He smiled and winked up at Steve, who flashed him a goofy little smile that looked more like a grimace as he continued to visibly cringe.

Steve pulled up the chair next to him and fidgeted awkwardly with the tablecloth as Eddie started to eat. He only seemed to relax a little when Max and Dustin pulled both him and Robin into their intense debate on what qualified as a man hug vs a hug from a man.

Everyone seemed appropriately distracted enough that Eddie, feeling absolutely giddy about what he was about to do, reached for the pepper shaker and started shaking it over his food as subtly as he could manage. Confident that nobody was watching, he shook a little pile of the tickly black seasoning into his hand and inhaled it quietly, rounding off the motion with a gentle rub to his nostrils that he hoped looked natural.

It burned almost instantly. He fought off a few little coughs and reached across the table for a napkin. Now Steve was watching him in that way that people do when they’re trying really hard to look like they aren’t. Eddie knew the feeling exactly, had been in this position more times than he could count. He would have smiled had the tickle not overwhelmed him in seconds, barely giving him any warning before he was sneezing desperately into the napkin.

"Hht'Tchiew! 'TSshieww!! hH'Ngxtt!! 'NGXT'TSChiew!! Oh my god, bless me.”

He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He’d been an impulsive, thrill-seeking bastard for most of his life, but this? It was insane. It was intoxicating. He blushed behind the covering of the tissue paper, working his snuffling, damp nostrils round in an attempt to assuage the itch, and thankfully it worked. He thanked Robin and the kids as they offered a round of blessings before reengaging with the extremely heated debate that had El giggling beside them. Noticing the absence of a blessing from his left – the only one he’d been seeking - Eddie’s eyes tentatively swivelled in Steve’s direction.

Steve was sat ramrod straight up in his seat, looking for all the world like he’d been stupefied. Eddie supposed he had, and was grateful for the napkin to hide his toothy grin of excitement behind, though he was sure his eyes, scrunched up in amusement, gave him away all the same. He sniffled, a wet, obtrusive sound, and this seemed to be the cue Steve’s brain needed to remind him to act like a human being again. He slumped back down into his seat, blushing fiercely and chewing at the lose skin beside his thumb nail. Eddie had to fight desperately for his own gentle blush to recede as Steve peered up at him from behind long, almost bovine eyelashes and uttered the softest, shyest little “Bless you” he had ever heard.

He lowered the napkin with shaking hands, muttering his own tiny “Thank you” in response and shovelling down the rest of his meal, tasting nothing and miles away in his mind. That had been…god, that had been so intimate. If they’d been alone, he would have kissed Steve immediately – he knew that for a fact. There was no fucking way he was misreading the desire that had saturated that interaction. He felt heavy and drugged whilst simultaneously wired enough to run a marathon. He had to breach this topic, he just didn’t know when, or how. So he would continue to be a tease until either he or Steve exploded out of sheer repressed lustiness.  

What a fucking wonderful mess he’d gotten himself into.

~~~~~

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah, man, I’m great.”

Eddie smiled reassuringly at Steve as the younger man lingered in the open doorway. Max was already halfway to Eddie’s van, having said her goodbyes and determined to get back to her room for some peace and quiet. Steve would be delivering the other kids to their respective parents, then he and Robin would do whatever it was they did, joined at the hip as usual. Eddie was only a tiny bit jealous, but he honestly wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet himself - if only so that he could rub his own dick raw thinking about the past 24 hours.

“…Okay.”

Steve sounded entirely unconvinced, and terrible at hiding it.

“I’m not going to crash, Steve.” He smiled wickedly. “I’m an expert at driving whilst sneezing my ever-loving brains out. I could win awards for it.”

Steve shifted his weight from one leg to another, eyes darting to anywhere but Eddie’s face as he offered a stilted little laugh. Eddie hoped he was fidgeting to offset the pressure of his jean’s seams on an inopportune erection. He hoped his words teased just right.

“Sure, man, whatever you say.”

Steve managed to smile at him then. It was Eddie’s cue to leave before he got sucked back into those pretty eyes all over again and lost the ability to form complete sentences.

“Well. See you soon, big boy.”

He turned around, raising a hand in goodbye. He smiled as a chorus of ‘Bye, Eddie!’ rang out from inside the house, shouting back a louder ‘farewell’ in response. Steve watched him from the doorway, and Eddie realised he was planning to wait to go inside until after he’d left. He turned around one last time, halfway into the driver’s seat and yelled:

“If my van ends up wrapped round some tree somewhere, you get my guitar, man!”

“Shut up and go home!” Steve shouted back, looking embarrassed and pleased all at once.

Eddie grinned and stuck out his tongue, ignoring Max’s groan of disgust as he settled into the driver’s seat.

~~~~~

Eddie pulled up to his trailer – or swerved up to it, depending on who you asked. Max was one of the most tolerable passengers he had ever had the pleasure of escorting, saying nothing of his questionable steering. He drove like he did almost everything else – impatiently, erratically and far too fucking fast.

Having known Max a mere matter of months, he’d quickly begun to think of her as a little sister of sorts. She hated the trailer park, and he didn’t much blame her. He felt it was his responsibility to help her out as much as he could - even if that just meant letting her into his trailer when her mom was passed out drunk, sitting next to her on the sofa watching some shitty horror movie and cracking stupid jokes in the face of her silence. She didn’t have to say anything, she just had to know that he was there if she needed him. When she’d asked him a couple of weeks ago if he would teach her some guitar basics, he had jumped at the chance. She didn’t have one of her own yet, so he sat with his acoustic whilst she balanced his flashy Warlock on her lap and awkwardly worked her way through each chord.

The metal they had been blasting came to an abrupt stop when he killed the engine. He jumped out and circled the van to open her door for her, reaching out to take her by the hand.

“Home at last, m’lady.”

She ignored his waiting hand, casting him a trademark withering stare with those huge blue eyes and hopped down from the van. He chuckled and closed the door behind her.

“You’re extra gross today.” She offered, looking at him with what Eddie gathered was a healthy dose of suspicion.

He clasped a hand to his heart, playing up the dramatics and gasping in faux distress.

“You wound me, Mayfield!”

She rolled her eyes at him, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. He laughed gregariously, knowing the raucous nature of it would embarrass her. She shoved him softly in response, then grabbed his arm when he started to genuinely keel over. Which only made him laugh harder.

“You’re insane.”

“But you like me anyway.”

“Whatever.” She turned and started to walk over to her trailer. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was halfway up the front steps of his trailer when he noticed her lingering.

“You good, Red?”

“Yeah. Just wondering if later you could maybe show me some more chords? I want to practice.”

He beamed at her, twirling his door keys round an extended index finger.

“Sure, I can do that. What time?”

“Depends on you.” She said. “Depends on if you’re going to be on the phone with Steve all night. Again.”

His brief moment of hesitation – and the resultant pause that had his keys spinning to the ground at maximum velocity – made her blue eyes twinkle. Damn smart kid. He scrambled for the keys, bouncing back and hoping she would brush off his temporary malfunction even as he knew without a doubt she had him all figured out. She didn’t look mean, though – she just looked smug.

“I believe,” he started as he turned the keys in the lock, “Harrington is otherwise occupied this fine evening. Unlike me. I’ll see you at 7, maybe?”

“Sure. 7 works.”

And with that, she was turning heel and pacing away. Eddie tried not to have a minor heart attack as he closed the trailer door behind him.

So what if Max had seen right through him, he thought as he dropped his backpack unceremoniously in the living room. She wasn’t going to say anything – she wasn’t a blabbermouth like any of the boys. She might – she might say something to El, though. He cringed at the thought of it. Shit. Maybe he would have to lay low on the overt flirting unless he was completely alone with Steve. He’d really fucking pushed it today, and now Max knew about his stupid, dumb feelings for Steve. Who else knew? Did Steve know? He wanted him to know. But not because the kids or whoever else sniffed it out first.

He collapsed face down on his bed and exhaled into his pillowcase. Whether it was Pavlovian conditioning or otherwise, his erection was back in an instant. He pushed aside the lingering anxiety, the overthinking, and rolled onto his back, shimmying his jeans down his hips.

The first squeeze around his cock felt incredible, and he bucked up into his own teasing grasp. This wouldn’t take long. His entire body felt like a live wire. He lost himself in the hedonistic joy of fucking into his own fist, reaching up with one hand to play with his nipples. He groaned, imagining Steve was right there with him – he was the one touching him with his big, strong hands, he was the one teasing him. His nose tingled, a sure sign that the antihistamines were already starting to wear off. Just that thought, just the thought of sneezing, of Steve watching him, Steve sneezing too –

Eddie bit his lip hard, trying and failing not to whimper as he orgasmed to thoughts of Steve for the second time that morning, knowing he was just getting started.

~~~~~

Max was only half-right about his phone calls to Steve. They were never longer than a few hours – and that had only happened a couple of times. Thirty minutes seemed to be their average. He spent way longer on the phone with Gareth, at any rate, and he wasn’t trying to get into his pants, fuck no. Guy friends could talk on the phone daily without it necessarily meaning anything. The fact that he was irrepressibly attracted to Steve and knew that Steve wanted him back – at least, as far as his allergies were concerned – was neither here nor there.

Wayne said nothing as Eddie stretched the phone cord into his bedroom and closed his door just so. There were many things to love about Wayne, but his leaving Eddie to his own business was something he was forever grateful for – even if he was much warier about doing so these days, understandably so.

They were 20 minutes into an amicable conversation and Eddie had already sneezed four times, relishing in the blessings Steve had offered. Steve was a lot more confident over the phone – probably due to the fact that his ability to disguise his body language fucking sucked, and this way he had the advantage of being unseen. It was sweet that he was possibly thinking just because Eddie couldn’t see him, he wasn’t able to picture in perfect clarity the way Steve would be blushing and squirming all the same.

“So yeah, Robin wanted to drive a little out of town – there’s this huge homeware depot out in the middle of fucking nowhere with all kinds of crap. It’s fun. You should come with us.”

Eddie wanted to, knew he wouldn’t turn the invitation down. But damn, what was the fucking deal with those two? It was so confusing. He was almost 95% sure they weren’t together, but they were like Velcro. Eddie treasured these phone calls because it was one of the few times he could talk to Steve one on one – and even then, Robin would sometimes be lounging around at his house, omnipresent in the background of their conversations.

He was jealous, plain and simple. He wanted to lounge around in Steve’s huge house and spend every waking moment with him, following him round like a little puppy dog. It sucked to be jealous of Robin – she was great, a total joy, and it wasn’t like she was the sole instigator of her and Steve’s mutual clinginess. Sometimes it felt to Eddie like they almost operated as emotional service animals to one another.

He scrunched his eyes shut, hard. Idiot. They’re just the best of friends.

“Sure, I’m down. I was in the market for some new doilies anyway.”

Steve laughed, and Eddie resisted the urge to kick his feet and twirl his hair round his finger.

“They have way more than that, dude. I’m talking bathmats, spice racks, tiny little porcelain dogs – and that’s just a preview.”

“Ooh, porcelain dogs. Midwestern Grandma chic.”

“Yeah, thought you might like the little knick-knacks.”

Eddie could hear Steve’s fond smile over the phone, and this time couldn’t help it as his hand made its way up to his curls and – yep, there he went. Spinning the locks round his finger like a fucking cheerleader or some shit.

They made solid plans and said their goodbyes. Eddie hung the phone back in its cradle and cast a weary glance at Wayne. Still awake. He would have to be quiet when he blew his post-phone-call load.

~~~~~

Steve had picked Eddie up that morning with Robin already riding shotgun. She offered to get in the back the moment she saw Eddie, which was concerning. His disappointment at the seating arrangement (which he knew had had no right in feeling, considering he was technically the third wheel on this little outing that was literally Robin’s idea in the first place) must have been plain on his face. He perhaps overdid it when he flung himself in the back before she had a chance to do so herself, the cheesy double thumbs up he flashed them as they peered at him in all his pell-mell glory looking awkward and stilted even to him. It was mercifully brushed over, and he cringed at himself for only a couple of seconds before Steve was engaging him in some stupid conversation about what porcelain animals they should buy.

The store – or rather, the industrial-sized warehouse operating as a store – was an impressive sight to behold out in the middle of nowhere. Almost everything was out in the middle of nowhere in rural Indiana, but the sheer size of the outlet was unique. Robin was practically vibrating with excitement as she got out of Steve’s car.

Eddie was in good spirits himself. He’d been sneezing a lot that morning, but not enough to make him truly miserable. His medication seemed to have calmed the reaction a little, but not entirely. Not enough to prevent his nostrils from tingling and flaring at that first hit of pollen-laden forest air. He sniffled, inviting the sensation to crest into a small, flurried little fit of sneezes he caught in his bandana.

"Hh'Ngxtt! NGXtt! ngxt'tshu! Hh! TShh-Dd'TZshh-TZzsch'iew!! Ahh…"

Those had felt so nice to indulge in, like a salve to soothe the itch. He scrubbed at his nostrils through the fabric, glancing up in time to see Steve glancing away, caught in the act of staring – just as Eddie had hoped. Robin, having run ahead several paces, didn’t seem to notice, and called out to them to hurry up. Steve practically sprinted after her, and Eddie swallowed the brief disappointment at the absence of a blessing, or any acknowledgement from the object of his desire. Saved by the fucking bell, he figured. It was no problem. He didn’t plan on giving up Operation: Drive Steve Crazy just yet. He had gumption and hard-assery on his side. He snuffled one last time into the bandana before pocketing it and catching up with them at revolving door entrance.

~~~~~

If the warehouse looked big from the outside, it was even bigger inside – and packed, relatively speaking. Mostly by middle-aged women, with some reluctant husbands scattered about here or there. There were some younger people too – a few oddball looking teens laughing at some of the tackier slogans adorning magnets and placards, and a couple of pretty college girls fussing over fuzzy cushions.

“Wow, Birdie. Where the fuck do you even start?” Eddie whistled, tipping his head back to peer up at the looming ceiling.

“Huh. I actually have no clue. This place is a monster, right?” She grinned at the pair of them.

“Seriously, Robs, no game plan?” Steve said, stood behind the shopping cart Robin had assigned to him. He had lost rock paper scissors and was only a little bitter about it.

“You make this sound like an army operation.” She rolled her eyes at them, and rolled them again when they both uttered, in perfect synchronisation, “Isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna do a quick – well, relatively quick – scan of the premises, then you can follow me with the cart. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Brave the terrain for us first.” Eddie smiled at her, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being left alone with Steve.

“See you in three hours!” Steve called sarcastically after her, and she stuck out her tongue and flipped the bird in response.

“Crazy geek.” Steve muttered, smiling. He shrugged his shoulders at Eddie. “Well – shall we secure the immediate area?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Eddie clicked his heels together and saluted, feeling like a total dork and delighting in the way it made Steve grin.

Another round of laughter pulled their attention over to the teens, who were at last walking away from the shelves of feel-good signage. Eddie tipped his head towards the display.

“Could start over there, see if there’s anything worth hanging over Wayne’s front door.”

Steve nodded, and the pair of them made their way over.

~~~~~

The signs were as predictably awful as either of them had expected; it was easy to understand why the teens had taken such amusement in them. Some were relatively innocuous, like ‘If you were home, you’d be here’ – others much more heinous, like ‘I must get up – my coffee needs me’ (Steve’s personal favourite) and simply ‘Fart Zone’ (Eddie’s personal favourite). Laughing with Steve over dumb shit was surely becoming one of Eddie’s favourite things to do, and if these goofy signs facilitated that, he was happy to read out loud every single one of them.

The novelty soon ran its course and prompted by a disapproving huff from a nearby older lady, the pair of them giggled like kids and retreated. Eddie dragged Steve away by the elbow, as encumbered with the empty cart as the younger man was.

“Oh man, Robin needs to see that shit. She’d be on the floor right now.” Steve laughed.

Eddie smiled, burying the mounting wave of jealousy like swallowing the most bitter of pills. They’re best friends, he reminded himself. Of course he wants her to see this shit too.

They wandered aimlessly for a little while, sticking to the very front of the store so that Robin would be able to find them. There wasn’t much more to engage with – Eddie and Steve prodded at the cushions they’d seen the girls take interest in, giving up quickly as they failed to provide any real source of amusement.

As they turned to the final unexplored aisle in the vicinity, Eddie’s nose wrinkled at a sudden, overwhelming wave of artificial scents. He stopped and peered down at the rows and rows of shelves, all stacked full of aromatic candles.

Oh fuck. His lips curled into a smile he hoped didn’t make him look like a conniving supervillain. This was the perfect opportunity to fuck with Steve, just the two of him. They hadn’t even proceeded down the aisle and his nostrils already tickled terribly. He reached up to rub them for a moment, squinting his eyes shut.

“…You okay?” Steve asked, stopping a couple of paces in front of him once he realised Eddie had paused. His eyes kept darting from Eddie’s eyes, to his flaring nostrils, right back up to his eyes again. So nervous, so obviously transparent.

“I’m good, yeah.” Eddie sniffled, walking forward. “Never seen so many fucking candles in my life. They stink.”

“Hmm.” Steve swallowed. Eddie watched his Adam’s apple bob. “You sure you want to brave it? With your…hay fever, and all?”

Oh, that had been so hard for him to say, but he’d wanted so very much to come across as a normal human being and not somebody who popped a boner every time Eddie’s nostrils did so much as twitch. Eddie almost felt bad for the sweet torture he was about to put him through.

“Luckily for me, Harrington – candles, unlike plants, don’t tend to release seasonal fuck-dust into the atmosphere.” He squeezed Steve’s arm briefly, encouraging him to keep walking beside him.

“That’s not – okay.”

Steve was flustered, almost to the point of blushing. 'Almost' wasn’t good enough. Eddie had to ramp things up.

His eyes scanned the shelves for the perfect candle to sniff, though any would probably do. It was crazy how much the entire area reeked of them, the hundreds of different scents accumulating into a maddening cloud of itchiness that almost set his eyes watering.

At last, he located a scent he knew would probably set him off in an instant – ‘Spring Meadow.’ He reached for it, heart lurching in his chest. The candle was heavy, sealed in a cylindrical glass jar. Luckily for him, it had no plastic wrapping he needed to rip through to lift the lid and get a proper noseful of the stuff. Even a foot away from his face with the lid still on, the scent was overwhelming.

“Does Birdie like candles?” He asked Steve, rotating his wrist to get a proper look at the object in question – or to feign interest in it, to make what he was about to do look a little less insane.

“Uh, sure? I think her parents have a few round the house, but I’ve never seen them lit. The ones in Robin’s room aren’t scented…”

He was watching the candle intently, like it was a bomb about to detonate. Eddie supposed that was fair enough – he’d be sweating too, at the prospect of Steve sneezing his head off, willingly, right there in front of him. The detonation Steve ought to be worrying about was him, really.

“Huh. Maybe we can test some out for her?” He peered at Steve from under his eyelashes. The younger man’s eyes did not leave the candle, knuckles almost white as they gripped the handlebars of the shopping cart. “There’re so many different scents here – might help to narrow it down for her, yeah?”

Steve said nothing. He seemed stupefied. Eddie almost felt bad, again – but he felt compelled to continue, like he was operating on a motor. He desperately wanted to sneeze, and he wanted Steve to watch every second of it. He didn’t bother waiting for any response Steve could eventually muster, twisting the glass lid free and lifting the candle to his face. It only took one tentative little sniff and he was undone, nostrils flaring to capacity. He sneezed too quickly to even draw a definitive gasp to fuel the reaction, seizing with the effort.

“HAhgK'TISHHH!! TIShhh-TSSCh-TSHH-TSH'Uu!!”

Each sneeze tore its way through him with no small amount of violence. The eponymous ‘Spring Meadow’ sure fucking smelled the part – it was like sticking his face into a patch of wildflowers and huffing them, hard. The ever-looming presence of his hay fever and the underlying sensitivity it caused seemed not to care that the fragrance was artificial – it tickled as much as any real flower ever could, maybe even more so out of sheer concentration of scent.

Hands occupied by both the candle and the lid, he merely sneezed right out in front of him – and towards Steve. He wanted him to take in every detail – and from experience, and the sensation of moisture on his own lips, that would include a healthy dose of spray with each expulsion. His eyes were screwed shut, it tickled so terribly – he couldn’t open them at all, the sneezes rapid enough he could only surrender to them as they hunched him forward, shoulders jumping and curls bouncing.

"Hahdt'DZZCHhh-DDT'shh-TZShhiew-TSschtt!!....hHAHH'IGXKSH'SHiiewww!!! Oh m’by god…"

He took the opportunity of the pause before that final sneeze to pop the lid back into place, shaking and almost dropping the candle as he suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. What a fucking rush that had been. His tongue flicked out to lick his damp lips. Shivering slightly in post-sneeze pleasure, he placed the candle back on the shelf before allowing himself to look over at Steve.

It was everything he had hoped for – Steve was a total, lust-stricken mess. The eyes he was flashing at Eddie were bedroom eyes, plain and simple. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted as he breathed softly but frantically, like he was winding down from a morning run. The cart was an immovable object in front of him, blocking his crotch from Eddie’s view, but from the awkwardly hunched stance he had adopted and overall wild-eyed appearance, a boner was practically guaranteed.

It was so intoxicating, looking at Steve like this, that Eddie forgot for a moment he wasn’t supposed to lose his composure alongside him. His own pants were impossibly tight, and it took all the restraint he could muster to not push Steve down on the hard, concrete floor and dry hump them both to nirvana.

“Ha…not such a great idea after all. ‘Scuse me.” He offered lamely, reaching for his bandana with a shaky hand. This had been a stupid idea – his brain was mush and he felt himself trembling in equal parts embarrassment and arousal, unable to maintain control of his own devious operation.

“Fuck, man…bless you.” Steve offered after a beat. He looked utterly mortified as his voice broke on the blessing, but it also seemed to galvanise him. He cleared his throat and stood a little taller.

“Bless you.” He offered again, and this time he didn’t so much as stutter. Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered, and despite his best efforts, he started to blush behind his bandana.

“Thank you.”

God, fuck, shit. This was so hot. He wanted Steve so badly. He wasn’t misreading things right now – couldn’t be. The way Steve was looking at him…he knew he never looked at Robin like that. This was significant, he was right on the money, and the longer he played this little game the more certain he became.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked softly as he blew his nose into the handkerchief. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Yes, Eddie thought. I need you to get on your knees and suck my cock ‘til I come gallons. I need you to sneeze all over every square inch of my body, and then I need to do the exact same to you.

“No,” Eddie said, storing the bandana back in his pocket. “I just think I should get away from these candles.” He sniffled again, wrinkling his nose and flaring his nostrils. Steve watched every motion. “Tickles.”

Steve shuddered rather perceptibly, despite his obvious efforts to mask it. He was probably trying to play it cool, now, ‘fake it til you make it’ style. Eddie was fine with that – he’d teased them both to their limits. When he inevitably came later tonight thinking about this exchange, it was going to feel amazing.

“Yeah, we should – we should go.” Steve nodded, turning the cart round (still conveniently blocking his crotch) and Eddie was happy to follow.

They were almost out of the aisle when Steve paused, quite abruptly.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, watching Steve stare down a nearby candle.

“How bad can they be?” He thought he heard Steve mutter, and, to Eddie’s dismay and pleasure both, the younger man reached out and grabbed the candle in his large, tan hand.

Eddie’s mouth was dry; his stomach flipped and he felt like he might pass out a little. He gripped the side of the cart for support, cock throbbing in his pants, as Steve removed the lid and lifted the candle to his perfectly pointed nose. His nostrils flared gently as he inhaled, experimentally, before taking another sniff almost strong enough to be audible. Eddie waited.

“Yeah, that’s not- hh’OhHH!! HUH!!”

Eddie blinked owlishly, felt his body burning up as if in fever. Was he actually asleep? Was this another of his increasingly regular wet dreams about Steve? It fucking felt like it, for sure – stood mere feet away from the jock as he willingly teased a mounting sneeze out of himself, expression crumpling and twisting in unmatched desperation. It seemed to be happening in slow motion; Steve’s head was tipping back, mouth falling open, eyebrows raising up, up, up. The picture-perfect image of a man on the precipice of a most impressive sneeze – or several.

Steve tensed, held in that pre-sneeze purgatory for what was surely no longer than a second but felt like an eternity to Eddie, and then he was sneezing so violently, so loudly that Eddie was sure Robin must have heard it from the other side of the warehouse.

“HUHHHH'RISHHHHHUUUUU!!! HAGKT'TISHHHHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

Eddie watched, dumb with arousal, as Steve sneezed directly onto the candle he held in his grasp. Whether he was unable to move away, or whether he simply didn’t care, Eddie wasn’t sure. Either way, it was about the hottest thing he had ever seen. Steve’s sneezes were huge, and ridiculously wet – each burst forth with a visible cloud of thick spray, baptising the candle as well as Steve’s hand and wrist, before dispersing into the air around his immediate vicinity in a glitter of aerosol. Eddie knew he was awake and not dreaming when the soft kiss of that spray dusted over his knuckles as they gripped at the cart. His cock throbbed, drooling precum into his underwear.

Steve’s head reeled back one last time with a gasp so intense it almost sounded painful – his chest puffed out with the effort. He didn’t move the candle – just went through the cycle all over again with one final, gargantuan sneeze that was impossibly wetter than either of its predecessors.

"AHHHH'YISSSSSSHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

The resultant spray hung around for several seconds before dispersing, glittering under the artificial lighting. Eddie’s eyes flickered down from Steve’s slackening, post-sneeze expression to the candle in his grip. It had been thoroughly sneezed on – there was really no other way to put it. It made Eddie feel even weaker to notice the droplets of moisture starting to slide down the side of the glass, actually dripping in the aftermath. He had never been so jealous of an inanimate object in all his life.

“Fuck,” Steve choked out, trembling a little and sounding a fraction as ruined as Eddie felt. “Well, that was – that was something.”

You can fucking say that again, you stupid, sexy bastard.

“Yeah. Um. Fuck, man. Bless you.” Eddie breathed out, trying to will at least a little blood into the rest of his body from where it had stubbornly pooled between his legs. “Are you okay?”

Steve looked down at the candle, then up at Eddie. Whatever he saw in Eddie’s eyes, he froze – they just looked at each other, silent for what felt like forever, before Eddie couldn’t take it anymore and glanced away. Fuck. He was just as transparent as Steve. When he looked back, whatever fire had been burning behind his eyes had vanished – almost as if nothing had transpired at all.

“I’m okay. Jesus. I think we should definitely give the candles a miss – spare Robin the disappointment.”

He was smiling softly, and it was enough to help Eddie ease up, just a little. He smiled back, said nothing as Steve replaced the lid and placed the worse-for-wear looking candle back on the shelf, spray and all.

“Yep. No complaints here. Let’s get back to the soap dishes?”

“Perfect.”

They walked awkwardly for a while. Eddie tried his best not to think about Steve’s own rock-hard cock as he willed his own back down. He was blessedly soft just in time for Robin to return fifteen minutes later.

~~~~~

Ever since his stunt with the candles, Eddie had been restless. Every time he spent time with Steve, or spoke to him on the phone, he felt the irrepressible urge to spill the fucking beans. To let him know that he knows, knows that Steve likes his sneezes, and he likes Steve and his sneezes, so maybe Steve might also like him and they should do something about it? But every time he built up the courage, felt like it was all gonna gush out of him in an endless stream of confession, it was like the words got caught in his throat and died there. No matter how much he willed it, he just didn’t seem to be bold enough. Which was hilarious, given the way he was actively teasing Steve with his tickly nose every chance he got.

They had agreed to have a movie night together, the evening before whilst on the phone. Eddie had been tickling his nose lazily with a clothing tag throughout, making sure to irritate himself just enough that the sneezing was near constant. Steve sounded breathless, and Eddie knew he had to be just as hard as him. They settled the plans quickly, then Eddie hung up and made himself cum three times before falling asleep, physically satiated but mentally tortured.

The day was a blur – another Saturday spent aimlessly playing guitar, smoking up and playing with his dick. He chain-smoked cigarettes inside his bedroom, which he regretted almost the second he started, both for the damage to his throat and the stink. He greedily drank half a carton of juice from the fridge to soothe his raspy throat, which he also regretted, feeling guilty about the prospect of eating and drinking Wayne out of house and home. Lots of overthinking and regrets as the day dragged on and on, hurtling him towards an evening alone with Steve.

There had been no marked change to his allergies – as active as ever, but manageable if he took his meds and stayed inside. So, naturally, he chose to forgo medication that day. He wanted to drive Steve crazy, even as the thought of doing so was driving him to the brink of insanity. The fantastical image of Steve, sporting an undisguisable erection as Eddie snuggled into the crook of his neck and purged the persistent tickle out all over his tan skin, and the thought of him blessing him and pinning him to the couch in return…Eddie jerked off again, feeling possessed, deranged. He shuddered as he came, then lit another cigarette and smoked nervously in bed. He was only pulled yelping out of his thoughts when cigarette ashes fell on his naked chest.

~~~~~

“Hey, man.”

Steve smiled welcomingly at him as he opened the door for Eddie. Eddie smiled back, bashfully, wondering if he would ever get over the feeling of nervous anticipation after he rang the doorbell and waited for that pretty face to greet him.

“I come bearing gifts.” Eddie lifted the bag in his hand, packed with chips and cookies and other tooth-rotting junk.

“Nice, nice.” Steve nodded approvingly. “You still want pizza?”

“Is the pope a catholic?” Eddie said, untying the laces of his sneakers and trying not to fall on his ass as a result of his impatient speediness.

“Cool – I’ll give ‘em a call in a sec, wanted to make sure before I did.”

For a moment, Eddie thought they were going to hug. He was about to initiate it when Steve reached out to take the bag of snacks from him with one hand, then held out the other for Eddie to bump. He did, a crooked smile cast Steve’s way that he hoped disguised his disappointment.

They made their way to the living room, where Steve let Eddie settle in and removed the snacks from the bag. He seemed full of nervous energy – they both did. The tension between them was so palpable that Eddie could almost taste it on his tongue – electric, like ozone.

“I’m glad you’re here, man.” Steve offered, one hand on the back of his neck. It was so adorable Eddie had to fight the blush rising to his cheeks. This kind of energy was contagious.

“Same here, dude. Excited to watch you piss your pants in fear.” Eddie smirked at him, tilting his head towards the pile of horror movie Steve had ‘borrowed’ from Family Video, claiming employee perks even when they both knew there was no such thing.

“Pervert. Maybe you’ll piss your pants.”

“Maybe I will, just for the fun of it.” Eddie stuck out his tongue, feeling as high as he always did when they joked around like this.

“Exactly – pervert.” Steve said - perhaps a little more fondly than he had intended, if the way he coughed into his fist a beat later was any indication. “Gonna order us pizza now, be back in a sec.”

Eddie waved him off, trying to relax into the sofa cushions and calm down the rapid beating of his heart. Steve’s sudden absence seemed to remind his nose to start tickling anew – he’d managed to steel himself for the walk up to Steve’s house, parked outside and recovering from the sneezing fit that had overwhelmed him on the short drive over. It had been desperate and uncovered, and he’d blushed to see the sheer amount of glittering spray left twinkling on his dashboard when the sneezes finally tapered off.

Remembering this event was the final straw – his nostrils twitched lustily, wanting that same relief all over again. He scrambled for his bandana, not wanting to spray openly, at least while Steve was out of the room. Leaning forward on the couch, he allowed his expression to loosen, panting expectantly as the sneezes built. With one outstretched finger he bullied the tip of his nose from side to side, gasping suddenly as the motion finally allowed the tickle to peak.

“Hh'EhhHT'TChiew!! 'Tisshh! HaHDT'Tshh!! ISSH'uu! Hh'NGxtshieww!! Eh'NGXtt!-NGXT'TCHIEW!! Fuck, shit. HEH'ISHH!! ISSH'IEWW! EH'Tschh-TScch-Tshtt!!”

He caught each one in the bandana, rocking forward into his own hand, gripping the couch cushion with the other. The tail end of the fit had been so vicious his leg kicked up off the ground a few times. He hoped Steve had heard him, but he hadn’t been able to make out any change to that pleasing voice as he ordered their food over the phone.

Eddie scrubbed at his tickly nostrils a couple of times, allowing himself in Steve’s absence to physically scratch them internally with his fingers through the fabric. It felt amazing, to literally scratch the itch, causing even more tears to spring forth and cling to his damp eyelashes. When he was done, he lazily half-shoved the fabric into his pocket and resettled himself. By the time Steve sauntered back into the room, he was comfortably nestled into the couch, the only evidence of his struggle a nose slightly pinker than two minutes prior.

“All good?” He asked, noting that his voice sounded a little stuffier than before. Good.

“Yep, ETA thirty minutes on the pizza.”

Rather than settling down on the couch, Steve walked towards the pile of videos on the floor. Eddie got up and started sifting through them with him. A short debate ensued, where the pair bickered over the kind of movie they should start their marathon with – in Eddie’s mind, shockingly reminiscent of the way the kids had argued the night he had clocked onto Steve’s secret interest. Steve didn’t want to be too scared, and Eddie could understand – but he didn’t want to be bored, above all else, and some of these B movies were...not great. They eventually settled for ‘Fright Night’ – which Eddie had seen before but didn’t mind rewatching. He was more interested in edging his way ever closer to Steve.

They settled down next to each other on the couch as the movie started - not an excessively macho distance apart, but not close enough for Eddie’s liking. It wasn’t long before their nervous shifting brought them closer together, like a dance neither of them knew they were doing. Even when Eddie stifled three little sneezes against an outstretched finger, barely audible, Steve didn’t tense up and flee the way Eddie had expected. He offered a soft little ‘bless you’ that went straight to Eddie’s dick and pressed his knee against his.

Eddie could hardly breathe. He watched the movie but took in nothing. The weight and heat of Steve’s leg against his own was the centre of his world.

Both of them jumped when the doorbell went – Eddie suspected for different reasons. The horror was starting to amp up, and Steve was practically chewing his own fingers off. He jumped almost a foot in the air, laughed, then assured Eddie he would get the door. They ate the pizza in companionable silence when he returned, laughing through mouthfuls of cheese as the movie became laughably camp.

~~~~~

Eddie managed to eat about half the pizza he could usually wolf down. The anxiety, the excitement of being so close to Steve was driving him crazy – and he hadn’t even enacted the latest tease he had devised as part of Operation: Drive Steve Crazy. The little daisy he had plucked outside his trailer seemed to burn through his other pocket, wrapped in another of his bandanas.

The plan had been to switch it up with his regular bandana, then keep the daisy concealed as he lifted the fabric to his nose. Steve would be clueless to his mischief as the little flower teased him into sneeze after sneeze.

For this to work seamlessly, he needed to sneeze again. That way, when he reached for the bandana, Steve wouldn’t so easily put two and two together that the fabric enclosed around the flower was an active source of irritation for him, ultimately operating as the cause of many more sneezes to come.

Eddie glanced subtly over at Steve – he seemed suitably engrossed in the movie. Eddie was glad he was enjoying it, perhaps a little regretful that he would soon be distracting Steve enough that he would be entirely unable to focus on it any longer. It was a fun movie. He raised a hand to his nose and started to wriggle the tip back and forth, scratching a fingernail round the rim of one sensitive, flaring nostril, and then the other. It was a maddening sensation, and it was just enough to work.

"EhHT'TSChiew! TSsiew!! Hah'TCHiew! ESHH'uu!! Ahh. ‘Scuse me.”

He sniffled, pressing a finger gently to his philtrum to avoid further outbursts for the moment. To his absolute pleasure, Steve blessed him softly, reaching out to squeeze his knee for just a moment. He didn’t turn to face Eddie – whether he was really that into the movie or was simply too embarrassed to look at him the metalhead couldn’t be sure. He muttered a small thanks, and with a shaking hand, reached into his pocket for the handkerchief – and the daisy concealed within.

This was crazy. He knew it was crazy – it made him feel almost physically ill with a heady mixture of anxiety and desire – but he was doing it all the same. Steve wasn’t looking at him as he gently unfolded the bandana, peeking inside to locate the little flower. He found it, his heart beating as he saw the smears of yellow pollen it had left against the black material from being smushed inside. He pinched the daisy stem between the fabric, holding it securely just out of sight, and lifted the bandana up to his nose.

It took barely the slightest sniff for the gentle flare of his nostrils to expand to capacity; the pollen tickled him mercilessly. He sniffed again, even softer, but that was all he needed before a dramatic gasp tore its way out of him, making Steve jump slightly in his peripheral vision. He had no time to apologise before his watery eyes slammed shut, mouth yawning open, and then he was convulsing repeatedly into the cloth clutched between shaking hands.

"Heh'ENGXT'TSSieww!! 'TSShHhieww!! Ah'ISHH'uuu! Haht'TChiew!! EHdtt'TChieww!! Ehh'NGxt'TSsschh!!"

“Fuck, Eddie – are you okay??” Steve asked, but Eddie couldn’t respond. His head ducked down over and over again, the sneezes growing in intensity as he lost all ability to hold them back.

"DDzZZT'TSsHIEwww!! haHH'AGKk'KShieww!! hh-HH! EHHDT'TSCchieww!! HIGK'TSSHhh!! 'TZZSHiewww!!"

Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. The daisy and all of its residual pollen was pressed up against his face, teasing his nostrils even as they fought valiantly to purge themselves of the tickle. And god, did it tickle. His eyes were streaming down his cheeks, fat tears of irritation rolling down as he continued to sneeze. Steve started rubbing a broad palm up and down his back, gripping his knee with another hand. Eddie’s cock was incredibly happy with the current turn of events, and he was grateful not for the first time for his preference of dark clothing.

"HuHHPT'TSSHhhh!! TISHH'Iewww!! Hh'IGSHHHH!! ESHH'IEWW!! hahH'AEGK'TSHieww!!...Hh-H-HH-!! EHDT'TISHH'IEWWW!!

That last sneeze ended on such a high-pitched and desperate vocalisation he would have mistaken himself for a girl. And fucking hell, that was embarrassing and arousing all at once. Steve exhaled, a broken sound that made Eddie want to go off in his pants. He absolutely could not let that happen, though – he had to put an end to this, at least cut off the source of immediate irritation. He lowered the bandana into his lap, exposing his dripping face to Steve as his face contorted in a tortured mask of anticipation.

A couple of really big, uncovered sneezes would probably put an end to this – at least he hoped. He couldn’t switch out bandanas right now without risking exposure – both of the daisy and of his erection, which Steve was bound to notice if he looked down at Eddie scrambling in his pockets. He let the ticklish, allergic sensation build, gasping dramatically and wishing he had some way of watching Steve watch him.

He gasped once, twice, then allowed his entire body to be thrown forward with the force of the resulting sneezes he caught loosely with one upraised palm – or that he, more accurately, merely aimed the sneezes towards.

"HAHHH!! HAHh'ESHHH'IEWWww!! Hh-HHH!! IIEESHHHH'IEWWW!!! Ohh my god…hh, fuckk…Bless me.”

“Fuck, Eddie. Bless you. Holy shit.”

He snuffled into his hand, feeling floaty and over-sensitised. Bleary eyed, he looked over at Steve, taking in that familiar expression; bedroom eyes, slightly parted lips as his breathing deepened, the flushing of his gorgeous tan cheeks. He looked a little longer, blinking away tears, and then he looked pointedly down. Steve pressed his legs together and shifted his hips in a pitiful attempt to shield his erection, but Eddie had seen it. He swallowed against a sudden deluge of saliva at the sight.

His eyes slowly made their way back to Steve’s face. As they did so, Steve pulled his hands away from Eddie’s back and knee. The sudden absence made Eddie shiver and long for that touch again, a burning need that made him feel almost feverish with desire. The movie continued in the background, and Steve turned unfocused eyes back to the screen, his posture rigid and awkward.

Eddie wiped his palm clean on the bandana, staring at Steve. He knew Steve knew he was watching him, but stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Eddie felt like screaming. He wanted Steve to throw himself at him, kiss him until they were both breathless. Why wasn’t he doing that? What more prompting could he possibly want??

Fuck it, Eddie thought. If Steve needs direct, direct is what he’ll get.

“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asked, pressing his knee against Steve’s, forcing himself back into his space. Steve visibly flinched. He still didn’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a good movie.” He mumbled, sounding reedy and desperate in a way Eddie had never heard before.

“We both know I’m not talking about the movie, big boy.”

Eddie brought the bandana back up to his face, just for a second, just enough that the daisy pushed him over the edge for an encore.

“EhhTT'CHIeww!! TIShh'ieww! hh'NGXTsshh!! DTSCH'Uuu!! Fucking hell….”

Steve shivered and scrunched his eyes shut. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck tight and tense. To Eddie’s sadistic delight, his face was blooming an impressive shade of red.

“Bless you,” He breathed. He remained facing the TV like a lifeline, like looking at Eddie might actually kill him. “I…don’t know what you mean.”

Eddie frowned. He was getting irritated and short-tempered. All of the games he had been playing, the weeks of endless sexual frustration – the end was so near he could almost taste victory. But Steve was stubborn, stalwart - clinging to denial even as Eddie caught him red-handed.

“Harrington. Look at me.” No movement. “Steve. Please.”

It made no difference. In a display of uncharacteristic strength, Eddie yanked Steve by the bicep, ignoring his yelp of shock as he turned towards him, finally looking him in the face.

“Come on,” Eddie purred, lowering his voice the way he would when he was playing a seductive character in a D&D campaign, praying it was efficacious enough that Steve would listen. The younger man sat rapt, frozen like a deer in headlights. Eddie swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a moment let his courage crest, and then –

Steve’s eyes were round, wider than Eddie had ever seen them, completely zoned in on the daisy he raised up between them. He twirled it between his fingers, displaying the tiny little flower that pulled so many desperate sneezes from him. It still wasn’t enough. He still had to say it.

“You like it when I sneeze, Steve.”

~~~~~

The silence stretched between them for long enough that Eddie thought for a moment Steve hadn't heard him. He was about to repeat himself when Steve tore his eyes aware from the daisy and up to Eddie’s face.

It was like being sucker punched in the gut. Whatever Eddie had been expecting – arousal, acceptance, embarrassment, admission – it hadn’t been this. Steve looked at him with sheer anger and contempt. He was looking at him like he was a bug he wanted to squish underfoot. Eddie gawked like an idiot, finding himself as wordless as Steve had been moments earlier.

His eyes silently followed Steve as the younger man stood up, towering over him. Eddie could barely breathe.

“Get out.” Steve spat, glaring down at him. Eddie could only sit and stare back up at him like an idiot.

“Get. Out.” Steve repeated, his voice a little louder and dripping with emotion. Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, like a kind of stupid, catatonic goldfish. Any and all confidence he’d been exuding mere moments ago had vanished, leaving him cowering with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

“Steve. What??” He managed, sounding raspy and miles away. The way Steve was looking at him made his chest feel like it had caved in. His skin was prickly and he felt uncomfortable all over.

Steve’s fists were clenched tight, and they clenched even tighter when Eddie spoke. Eddie swallowed, his mind conjuring up the awful image of Steve beating him to a pulp.

No. This wasn’t what he’d planned. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be more wrong. He needed to do something, to fix it before his entire world imploded. His mouth opened, but he was voiceless, again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s; they had him pinned like a butterfly to board.

“…Is that why you’ve been getting closer to me?” Steve said suddenly. The sounds from the TV swelled in the background, a cheesy pop number playing as the protagonists found themselves in a nightclub. It barely registered to either of them.

“To humiliate me? To play some fucking elaborate joke on me?” Steve went on, voice shaking, staring and staring. Eddie shook his head frantically, panic swelling in his chest.

“No. No. Steve, listen to me –“

“You should get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass."

Hurt. Hurt exploded in his chest and spread through his extremities in an overwhelming wave that made Eddie feel like he was dying. Sickly goosebumps broke out on his arms. No. This wasn’t happening.

“Steve. Please. Just give me a minute. I can explain, I can explain everything.”

At last, Steve’s eyes swivelled away, and with their gaze their paralysing effect. Eddie jumped to his feet, hands raised cautiously in front of himself as he eyed Steve’s balled fists. Steve’s brow was furrowed, his teeth clenched tight. Eddie realised in another sickening rush that he was trying to hold back tears. His own eyes prickled in response.

“I don’t want to hear it, man. Just go away.”

Steve’s voice was thick with emotion. It was agonising to hear. Eddie was no stranger to self-hatred, but everything before seemed to pale in the face of his latest fuck-up. His own voice trembled as he opened his mouth.

“Steve. Please. I need you to listen to me. Please look at me. You’re my friend, man. I don’t want to humiliate you. What the fuck. I’m freaking out, Steve, please look at me.”

He rambled, sounding like a fucking maniac - like the way he'd spoken moments after he’d had Steve pinned to the wall of the boathouse, relaying what horrors he’d seen that night in his trailer. Completely and utterly lost, like the world was caving in around him. Steve must have recognised that desperation because he did turn to look at Eddie, eyes shiny and wet but marginally less hostile. Now he just looked pained.

“Then what is this, Eddie? What the fuck are you doing to me?”

Eddie floundered for a moment, licking his lips nervously, fingers twitching. It was okay. Steve wasn’t going to punch him out. He probably hated him, but he didn’t want to kill him. Progress.

“I’ve been. I’ve been flirting with you. Fuck.” When Steve merely looked at him, he carried on. “I figured out you like it when I sneeze, so I just. Kept doing it around you. As often as I could.”

From a purely clinical standpoint, Eddie could admit it was fascinating watching Steve’s face shift through so many expressions and colours in a matter of seconds, taking in what Eddie was saying. He looked almost blue when he muttered a strained little ‘When,’ under his breath.

“Steve, dude, you need to sit down.” Eddie reached out nervously, his hand hovering next to Steve as the younger man looked about five seconds away from passing out. Steve shook his head.

“When,” He repeated, words almost slurring together, “Did you figure it out?”

“…The night I came round for the movies with all the kids and had a real bad allergy attack.”

Steve groaned, sitting down at last and cradling his face in his palms. Shaking, Eddie lowered himself down beside him, crouching on the very edge of the cushion. He touched a gentle hand to Steve’s shoulder.

“Please don’t.” Steve moaned, and Eddie pulled his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove.

“Steve…It’s okay.” Eddie started, leg bouncing up and down and shaking the couch with it, but finding himself unable to stop. He felt sick with anxiety. He watched as Steve shook his head, face still buried in his hands.

“You don’t understand.” Steve rasped. “This is mortifying for me. It’s not normal. I’m not normal.”

Eddie shook his head, clenching his eyes shut, even though Steve couldn’t see.

“No, man. It’s really okay. I know how you feel – “ Steve scoffed, shoulders jumping, but Eddie ignored him. “I do. I understand you.”

Steve swallowed, hissing a breath between his teeth as he shook his head again, even harder. He was pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“No, Munson. You don’t. I’m fucking sick. You know. You know I am. Fuck. I am humiliated.” He was openly crying now, hiccupping soft little breaths like he was moments away from a panic attack, which didn’t seem like an impossibility.

Eddie looked at his shaking shoulders, then turned his gaze up at the ceiling. A wave of defeat seemed to pass over him, like a thick shroud that numbed his anxiety and filled him with a sense of sudden, otherworldly calm. It was extraordinary, quite how much he had fucked this up. Steve, instead of jumping into his arms and ravaging him, was now having an emotional breakdown right beside him. He’d made Steve cry. Instead of bringing them together, he had pushed them apart. No further than a foot away from each other, they may as well have been on other continents in that moment.

With the calm and the defeat came the benevolent thought, like a heavenly doctrine from above: Fuck It.

“No, Steve. I really understand. I’m exactly the same as you. I get off to sneezing too. If you’re sick, then so am I.”

His delivery was flat and felt anticlimactic, but it was out there. He’d admitted it out loud, for the first time in all his twenty years. The relief he’d been expecting by confessing was entirely numbed by the bitter self-hatred, by Steve’s gentle crying beside him. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he sat still for long enough, he’d simply cease to exist.

“You really need to fuck off if you’re going to mock me.” Steve moaned into his hands.

“You don’t need to believe me. It doesn’t stop it from being true.”

Eddie sat there, stoic as a statue, entirely focused on his new mission of vanishing into the ether. He didn’t notice when Steve stopped crying, so when Steve placed a hand on his thigh, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus-!”

“Are you serious?”

Eddie willed his soul back into his body, looking at Steve’s face – his poor blotchy face, eyes swollen and damp with salty tears – and felt himself smile, weakly, despite himself.

“Yeah, man. Is it really that surprising?”

He felt like crying too. He was utterly exhausted, and he’d done it all to himself. Him and his grand plans. At least Steve was no longer looking at him with hatred or pain. Now he wore a look of cautious inquisitiveness. He tried to focus on the sensation of Steve’s warm hand through his jeans, like a tether to the material world.

“Will you tell me more?” Steve asked, softly, like he was abashed at his own overreaction, and like Eddie was a delicate flower to be handled with care. Maybe his destructive meditation had started to work. Perhaps he was turning translucent right now, and Steve was trying to coax him back to total opacity. He laughed, a forced, reedy little sound.

“What do you want to know?” He smiled down at his knees. “That I’ve been teasing you in the hopes that you’d figure out I was the same? That I thought you would confess to me, that you might actually want to do something about it?”

He grit his teeth as tears of self-directed anger started to form, blurring the image of his knees and the back of Steve’s hand in his periphery. He breathed out shakily.

“That I’ve been driving myself mad with stupid fantasies and touching myself to the thought of you, Steve Harrington, actually being with me? Wanting me back in the same fucked up way?”

Steve’s hand gently tensed on his thigh. He carried on, unable to stop, letting the tears gently roll down his cheeks.

“I’m the one who’s mortified. I’m humiliated. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, man. I never fucking think, I just do. I do stupid things all the time. I fucked up. I’ve made a fool of myself, and I made you fucking cry in the process, and I really fucking wish the ground would open up and swallow me right about now.”

He exhaled. That was the catharsis he had been looking for. He was bitterly angry with himself, but he felt lighter than he had in – well. An exceedingly long time.

Steve said nothing, and Eddie didn’t bother looking up. They had both stopped crying. The movie suddenly seemed too loud, penetrating their bubble. Eddie listened as Steve reached for the remote and turned the TV off entirely. His hand never left his thigh.

“Do you still want me to go?” Eddie asked, so low it was almost a whisper.

“…No. Don’t go.”

Eddie looked up in disbelief. Steve was looking at him with huge, sad eyes. Where there had once been icy hostility, there was now only warmth. Eddie swallowed, eyes flicking back and forth between each of Steve’s.

“I don’t disgust you? For what I did, and everything I just said?”

Steve shook his head.

“No. Not one bit.” Steve swallowed. “I just…can’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know you liked guys?”

Eddie flashed him a wobbly smile.

“Neither did I. Not until you.”

Steve’s hand squeezed his thigh again, and despite everything, Eddie felt his cock hardening under the attention.

“So…” Steve said. “Do you – are you saying you like me, then?”

Eddie giggled at that, letting his head tip backwards until he was leaning back into the couch and laughing for real. When it didn’t stop, he pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. He peered at Steve under damp eyelashes, relieved to find him waiting patiently and decidedly not about to take a swing at him.

“Harrington…” He managed at last, “I just told you I jerked off thinking about you in the weirdest possible way. I told you I’ve been flirting with you. We talk on the phone almost every night. I think it’s safe to say that uhh, yeah, dude – I fucking like you a lot.”

Steve nodded, fucking nodded his head in response. He looked pensive, like Eddie had explained some kind of scientific theory to him and he was really chewing it over.

“Good. Good.” He nodded some more. Then he started to crawl up the couch until he was pressed right up against Eddie’s side.

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around the younger man’s shoulders as he positioned himself over him, thighs outside Eddie’s, sandwiching him in.

“I like you too. I think I just finally figured it out. I like you.” Steve seemed further emboldened with each word, like speaking it aloud had been the final push he needed to open up to the previously unimaginable.

Eddie’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he may be dying for the third time in as many minutes, but this time he found he didn’t care.

“Steve,” He sighed again, unable to say anything else, hoping it was enough to convey everything. His cock was an exclamation between his legs. Steve hummed in response, pressing their bodies together and cupping Eddie’s jaw in one hand. When their clothed erections rubbed against each other, they both shivered and moaned as though electrocuted. Steve held his face close to Eddie’s, eyes like molten liquid as he gazed at Eddie under hooded lids. Eddie’s breath puffed out against his lips.

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” He murmured, so close Eddie could feel the words take form.

~~~~~

Eddie lunged forward in response, pressing their lips together and pulling a tiny sound of surprise out of Steve. Their teeth clacked together a little painfully, and Eddie would have cringed away if Steve hadn’t reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm moments later. It was a heated mess, but then they found their rhythm and everything felt fucking electric. They writhed against each other, moaning into each other’s mouths with every nip and suck.

Clawing at Steve’s shoulders, feeling like he was going insane with desire, Eddie sucked Steve’s tongue, hard. The rumbling of Steve’s reciprocal moan made Eddie’s hands tingle where they rested on his back, the reverberations sending chills down his arms. When Steve returned the favour, then pulled away with a filthy popping sound and starting nibbling at Eddie’s bottom lip, he made such a girly sound of appreciation it took him a moment to realise the sound was coming from him.

Steve’s hand continued to cup his face, his other hand supporting his position over Eddie against the back of the couch. The metalhead marvelled at how he could feel like such a soft puddle of nerves whilst being the hardest he had possibly ever been in his life – an oxymoronic existence. His cock was straining in his pants, honestly starting to hurt a little. He wanted to do more than just suck and moan and buck into Steve as he clung to him like a lifeline, but the kissing was so captivating he couldn’t bear to stop.

He didn’t really get much of a say in the matter, however, as moments later his nose began to prickle ominously. The tickle clearly didn’t like being ignored, especially after all the direct exposure to pollen fuelling its voracity. It was as if it had waited for his crisis to end and the kissing to start before rearing its head once more. Each time Steve’s nose nudged against his own, the tickle blossomed relentlessly. He groaned deeply, feeling lightheaded as his brain - slow and semi-functional, bereft of blood as it was - suddenly acknowledged what was about to transpire.

He pulled back with an awkward popping sound, Steve chasing him immediately and stopping only when Eddie turned his face away entirely.

“Hey,” Steve gasped, sounding immediately concerned. “Are you okay? Wanna stop?”

“N-no-” Eddie managed, stuttering as the tickle ground against his sinuses, leaving itchy tears to prickle at the corners of his eyes. He turned back to Steve. “I just – I have’to-!!”

He pulled in one final, lung-filling gasp, teetering on the edge for a moment before he felt Steve press his face into the crook of his neck and kiss at his heated skin. The pleasant surprise of it pushed him over the edge, buckling forward and sneezing violently over Steve’s shoulder and down the back of his T-shirt.

"EHhT'TSHhieww!! ISHHH'UU! Hah'EnGXT'TSchieww!! TIShhh!! HIG'TChieww! HAH'ESHHHhhh!! Ohh, fuck…"

Steve moaned into his neck, the vibrations sending further chills of pleasure through Eddie and raising even more goosebumps up and down his arms. He sniffled, feeling dazed and dreamlike, and then he was gasping again, albeit for a different reason as Steve started to suck a hickey onto the side of his throat. He didn’t believe the myth jocks liked to espouse that they were de facto sex gods, bragging about the pussy they got and the way they made girls cream the second they touched them – but Steve? He believed it now. His toes curled at the pleasure-pain of that sucking, just the right amount of teeth and pressure to leave him writhing.

“Fuckkk, Steve-!”

Steve pulled away at last, licking the sensitive skin and blowing on it, making Eddie shudder again. He kissed up Eddie’s jaw, all the way to his mouth.

“Bless you, Munson. You’re driving me crazy.” He murmured before kissing Eddie again.

“Mmm,” was all Eddie could manage for another moment, then he was kissing back harder.

“Did that…did it feel good?” Steve muttered against his lips when they reached a natural lull in the kissing. Eddie’s face heated, because yes, it had felt fucking incredible. His cock throbbed and throbbed in his jeans.

“Yeah, fuck. Feels so good to sneeze, Steve.”

Steve sighed in pleasure, laughing a little and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Well, I guess your allergies aren’t such a bad thing.”

“You have no idea,” Eddie gasped, lips feeling swollen as they kissed each other stupid, “How good they feel for me.”

“Then tell me, please.” Steve said, making it impossible for Eddie to do so as they kissed for another two minutes straight.

Breaking away with a moan, Eddie gripped at Steve’s shoulders, putting to the back of his mind that his iron grip was probably stretching the tight fabric beyond repair.

“It turns me on. Not just other people, but me…I like it when I sneeze, too.” His eyes were screwed shut as he confessed, but the way Steve’s breath hitched as he started to rock his hips against his own urged him forward.

“I have to jerk myself off most mornings, when the pollen count is stupidly high. I wake up sneezing, and sneezing, and it takes me so long to stop. I just have to let it happen. And it feels amazing.”

Steve swore, burying his face into Eddie’s neck again and starting to grind against him even harder. Eddie moaned and carried on.

“Sometimes it’s so much I can’t even get out of bed and take my meds before it starts. It’s like the pollen’s been teasing me all night long but there was nothing my nose could do until I woke up, and then it doesn’t stop. I have to touch myself,”

He let his hands travel down Steve’s spine, emboldened with every word.

“And I make myself cum. The sneezes make my whole body feel so good, it never takes me long. Sometimes I think about – hah! People watching me.”

He gasped mid-sentence as Steve started to suck another hickey, this time right near his jawline.

“I think about – about other people touching me, and holding me while I do it. Fuck it, Steve, I think about you. I think about your hand on my cock, making me cum, letting me sneeze all over you-!"

“Fuck, Eddie!” Steve reached down between them, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. He hesitated for a moment before standing up, shucking them off entirely, then his t-shirt, until he was standing in front of Eddie in just his boxer briefs.

“God, Harrington. You’re – wow.” Eddie murmured, wishing he could do more than gape like a moron as he took in the sight of him. For what it was worth Steve seemed elated by the response, smirking and moving effortlessly now that he was in his element.

“You gonna join me?” Steve prompted after a moment longer of Eddie drooling at him.

“Oh! Yeah, fuck, hold on.”

Eddie all but yanked his band shirt over his head, swearing as his guitar pick necklace managed to get tangled in his hair in the process. He reached for the tangle, shooting Steve an apologetic glance but receiving a look of pure hunger at the sight of his shirtless torso, so intense that he felt like swooning. Steve reached down and unbuckled his pants for him, wordlessly pulling them down as Eddie shifted his hips up, letting him do so. At last he managed to free the traitorous necklace, yanking Steve down on top of him again. It felt even better like this, skin on skin, Steve’s chest hair tickling his pecs as they pressed together.

“You’re so hot, Eddie,” Steve said, sounding like he really meant it - sounding, if possible, even more enthusiastic than he had in any of Eddie’s fantasies.

“Look who’s talking.” Eddie smiled shyly back at him.

Steve lined their hips up for a moment, sighing happily as their cocks pressed together. To Eddie, it somehow felt like the thin fabric of their underwear alone was even more torturous than when they had had the additional barrier of their jeans. He rocked up against Steve, moaning against his collar bone and clutching at his waist. Steve kissed into his hair, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Have you ever thought about me?” Eddie panted out, with great effort, as Steve shuffled out of his boxers and started to help Eddie out of his own.

Steve’s cock, as expected, was unfairly large and gorgeous. It was hard to miss through the outline of his jeans even totally flaccid – seeing it at full potential had Eddie’s mouth watering, but also making his own junk feel entirely insufficient in comparison. His cock, though not small and what he would personally describe as on the bigger side of average, seemed to cower for a moment. He immediately shut down that unwelcome train of thought, refusing to feel emasculated and jealous like a fucking loser when Steve was right fucking there in front of him, his huge dick hard for him. What the fuck.

Steve reached down and took Eddie’s cock in his warm, broad palm, cradling him for a moment. Eddie twitched immediately, drooling precum down Steve’s knuckles.

“Shit,” He whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s waist.

Steve pulled back his hand, spat into it, then started to pump him in earnest. Eddie’s head tipped back with one long, closed mouth groan. Fuck, that felt good.

“I have – thought about you.” Steve confirmed after a moment. “Is this okay?” He asked, stroking and squeezing a little harder as Eddie moaned his affirmation.

“I’ve thought about you a couple of times, but I didn’t – I tried not to think about it afterwards. I felt too – you know. Ashamed, I guess. We’re both guys and I was thinking about us together, and how you – aghh. You know what I mean.”

Steve was shy, Eddie realised. He was naked, sprawled on top of Eddie and pumping his cock like a pro, even rolling his balls in his sack with his other hand – and he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘sneeze’. Eddie felt a sudden wave of mischievous energy embolden him.

“Thought about me sneezing, Steve?” He looked up at him, eyes hooded and bright. When Steve blushed, all pretty and flustered, Eddie’s cock lurched in his fist. He clenched his teeth, feeling his orgasm approaching at an embarrassing pace.

“Need to back it up, Harrington – fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, god.”

Steve sped up.

“That’s kind of the point, Munson. We’re having sex.”

“Smart-ass,” Eddie whined, toes curling as Steve stroked him mercilessly. “I haven’t even touched you yet, fuck.”

“Then touch me.” Steve sighed, bringing Eddie’s hand from his waist and urging it to his cock.

Eddie spat in his hand before touching him, but Steve was already so wet at the tip, he noticed with no small amount of pride, that he barely needed the extra lubrication. It was like masturbating in reverse, on a bigger, thicker cock than he was used to, but so familiar he took to it in no time. The sounds that Steve was making, the look on his face as Eddie pulled at him – it was so incredible that his own pleasure seemed to fade into the background. All he could focus on was Steve, on making him sigh and moan and whisper his name. He liked the way Steve’s hips thrust uncontrollably whenever he teased at his frenulum, so he did it again and again.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, urging their cocks together and rocking his hips. It was a little awkward as they jerked each other off, and their knuckles kept bumping together, so Eddie reached up and pawed at Steve’s hairy chest and stomach instead, pinching and teasing at his nipples as Steve took over rubbing them both. When he reached behind and grabbed at Steve’s round, muscular ass, Steve all but growled, speeding up his efforts and causing both of them to gasp.

“Fuck, this feels so good. Why does this feel so good?” He sighed against Eddie’s mouth. Eddie didn’t know what to say, because he himself was having a hard time remembering his own name. He kissed Steve’s neck furiously, nuzzling into the hair at the nape of his neck, inhaling his scent as deeply as possible. He smelled so good, like sweat and hairspray and cologne and something uniquely Steve. When Eddie’s nostrils prickled ever so slightly in response, he thought of the little daisy, wrapped in his bandana beside them on the couch.

“Stevie,” He muttered against Steve’s mouth. “Do you want me to sneeze for you?”

Steve’s cock throbbed so powerfully in response Eddie was sure he was about to shoot right then and there. His red face and immediate extraction of his masturbating hand seemed to signify that that had very much been the case. He managed to hold back through sheer willpower. Their cocks bobbed against each other in the sudden absence of his grip.

“Fuck, yes, yes.” Steve panted.

Eddie smiled, reaching for his bandana. He twirled the little daisy between his fingers, and sat back.

“You ready?” He asked, shooting a crooked smile at Steve, who was staring at him with a look of total adoration.

“Yeah,” He sighed out, taking their cocks back into his grip and pumping them again.

“Do you mind if I sneeze on you?” Eddie asked, heart pounding in his chest. Steve’s cock throbbed against his own.

“Oh! N-No. I mean yes, please. On me, don’t turn away.” Steve managed, his whole chest flushing beneath the thick hair there.

Eddie’s cock throbbed as he brought the daisy up to his nose, feeling so excited he could hardly stand it. He inhaled the sweet scent of it, gently enough that the tickle built gradually, teasing both himself and Steve, prolonging the pleasure. At last, his nostrils gave a decisive twitch, flaring to capacity as the allergic tickle swelled beyond breaking point.

“Ohh, gonna sneeze! Fuck, yeah, mm’gonna-!”

Dropping the daisy and reaching up to grip Steve’s shoulders, Eddie let the tickly, teasing pollen overwhelm him.

"Hah'ETSCHH'Ieww!! ISHH'Ieww!! IESHHTTt!! Hah'ESHHH!! IGXSHtt-ISHhh-ISHh'iewww!!"

Like Steve requested, he didn’t turn away, more than happy to shower him with his sneezes as he had done in an embarrassing number of his personal fantasies. It always felt good to sneeze with his own hand on his cock – it felt even better in Steve’s grip, rubbing up against his solid prick. He didn’t particularly aim the sneezes anywhere, just let them do as they would – but he suspected they were going just about everywhere. Steve’s chest, neck, stomach – and most importantly, his cock. That last one he could confirm, his own cock throbbing each time he felt the aerosol of his sneezes rain down in a gentle mist.

Whether Steve had willingly timed his orgasm with the end of Eddie’s fit, or whether he simply couldn’t hold out anymore, the moment the last sneeze burst out of Eddie and onto his waiting skin he came with a shuddering moan. Eddie raked his fingernails down Steve’s back, gasping as he shuddered and pulsed against him, spurting in several long convulsions all over Eddie’s torso, some of his pleasure reaching far enough to paint white stripes over the metalhead’s chest. It looked – and sounded – like Steve was having an absolutely mind-breakingly good time, and Eddie’s own toes curled in response as his own climax lurched suddenly closer.

“Fuckkkk, Oh my god, Eddie,” Steve was moaning, trembling slightly as he came down from the heights of his high. Eddie squeezed his shoulders tightly in response.

“Steve, fuck me, I’m gonna cum!”

He was thrusting erratically, the extra lubrication of Steve’s orgasm facilitating the approach of his own, images of Steve’s face as he came, the sounds he made, the feeling of him shuddering against him all too much, his eyes screwing shut, and –

“Nooo, Steve, no!” He whined as Steve released both of their cocks, his own starting to soften post-orgasm.

Eddie swore, retracting his own hand from Steve’s back and reaching between his legs, only for Steve to pull it away by the wrist. He grunted in displeasure, looking up at Steve with accusatory eyes.

“Why’d you stop, man? I was right fuckin’ there.”

If a dick could frown, his would be doing so at that very moment. At least Steve had the decency to look apologetic, even as the afterglow of his own orgasm softened his eyes in naked satisfaction.

“Sorry, I just – I just thought you might want me to. Um. Return the favour? Since we’re,” Steve gestured with his hand, back and forth between them. “The same.”

It took Eddie a second, and then the realisation made his sensitive cock throb so violently he grunted with it.

“You’re offering to sneeze for me?” He asked, light-headed with anticipation.

“Yeah, if that’s something you’d want.”

Steve looked so shy, so fucking vulnerable, but his soft brown eyes were burning as they peered at Eddie, flicking this way and that, waiting for his confirmation.

“Steve, holy fuck –“ Eddie gripped him by the waist, squeezing him firmly. “That is something I want, like, 24/7, man. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life, fucking shit.” He babbled.

Reassured, and laughing a little breathlessly, Steve stood up, walking the few paces to the coffee table and reaching for a box of tissues. Eddie stared openly at his flagging cock, still half-hard and hanging in front of him. He needed to cum so badly it was agonising.

Steve repositioned himself over Eddie, straddling him in a way that was starting to feel to Eddie like one of the most natural things in the world. His hands reached instinctively for Steve’s waist, then wandered down to squeeze at his ass.

He watched, swallowing hard as Steve extracted a tissue and started to twist a corner of it into a long, tapered point. It didn’t take long for Eddie to understand the functionality. He smirked up at Steve, feeling a new kind of excitement rush over him; the evidence of the practiced way the younger man had shaped the tissue to no doubt tickle himself made it seem real, concrete that they really were into the same, crazy shit.

Steve smiled back at him, looking pleased with Eddie’s reaction but embarrassed all the same. Eddie would fix that. He would make it his mission to chase away that anxiety.

“I sometimes use this when I can’t – you know. Or when I just want to. When I’m alone.”

“God, Steve. You’re perfect.” Eddie sighed out, bringing Steve into a bear hug and letting the sudden feelings of immense fondness for Steve blend together with his arousal, an intoxicating combination that made his chest tight and his cock even harder than before.

Steve pulled back after a moment, kissing Eddie’s cheek sweetly. He held the tissue up in front of them.

“You want to do it for me? I’ll jerk you off.” He said, sounding excited enough it was as though he hadn’t cum his brains out moments ago.

“Yeah. Holy fuck, yeah.”

Steve reached down without hesitation, and Eddie had to fight from letting his eyes roll back in his head and cum the second those long fingers returned to his length. The skin of his cock felt tight, like it was going to split. Steve hesitated, then tilted his head back, just a little, so that he was presenting his nostrils to Eddie. The older man wasted no time in cupping Steve’s jaw with one hand and inserting the tissue with the other.

“Do I just, like – wiggle it around a little?” He asked, eyelashes fluttering as Steve started to pick up the pace on his cock. God, this would not take long.

“Yeah,” Steve said, “Or sort of – thrust it. It tickles more when you – HH-HAH!! Y-yeah, like that.”

Eddie swore, biting his lip as his cock pulsed, drooling over Steve’s hand in a pre-emptive spasm. He was tickling Steve’s nose – he was actively about to make Steve sneeze. He continued to move the tissue back and forth, gently prodding and watching Steve’s nostrils twitch and flare in response. To Steve’s credit, he was doing a wonderful job of squeezing and stroking Eddie throughout the tickling and teasing.

His chest started to jump with sporadic gasps, every single one threatening to push Eddie over the edge. It felt like he was burning up from the inside, like the intensity of his oncoming orgasm was simply too much for his body to handle and he would actually burst into flame. Steve’s nostrils flared, slackened, flared again as the tickle played with him. When Eddie prodded the tool as deeply as he could, that seemed to be the final straw for Steve. He gasped, a ruined, desperate sound of defeat as at last the tickle crested.

The sound of that final inhalation paired with the desperate look on Steve’s face and the expert stroking of his cock was too much. Eddie felt a wave of heat wash over him, holding him rigid for a moment, and then he was coming, so pleasurable he could barely make sense of it. He desperately wanted to watch Steve sneeze, up close and personal, just for him, but his head was tipping back in a silent scream as he convulsed against the couch. He trembled helplessly, unable to do anything other than fuck gently into Steve’s fist and grip the couch cushions beside him.

He heard Steve’s sneezes seconds later as they tore their way through him – as loud and desperate as he’d ever heard them – his whole body singing in pleasure as he continued to cum.

“HUHHH'RISSSHHHH'UUUU!! HAGKT'TISHHHHH!! AEESSSHHHHHUUUU!!!"

Each sneeze sprayed across his chest and stomach in a rush of warm air and cool aerosol, and the sensation was so erotic he felt his orgasm intensify when it should have been starting to dim. He reeled with it, spilling over Steve’s fist and his own skin, throbs of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. And then it was over, and he was melting into the cushions, no longer a person but molten liquid in the shape of one.

“Ohhh...Oh my god.” He managed after a little while, staring up at the ceiling. Steve’s face leaned into his line of vision, stupidly handsome as he smiled down at him.

“That good, huh?”

Eddie huffed a small laugh out at him, then squeezed his eyes shut as the endorphins overwhelmed him, threatening to make him cry. He felt Steve lean forward, pressing up against him and nuzzling into him. His shaky arms enclosed Steve in a hug. God, but he’d felt that nut right down to his fingertips. He felt like he’d jizzed himself into another existence. His body felt clean, detoxified.

“Eddie.” Steve muttered, face buried in his curls.

“Mm?”

“We’re both covered in cum.”

“Nice.”

“I’m getting a towel.”

“Too late.” Eddie giggled, feeling loopy and stoned.

“A damp one, to clean us up, dumbass.” Steve laughed, shakily standing up and batting Eddie jokingly across the top of his head.

“Oww.” Eddie said, even though he’d barely felt the whisper of the touch, and giggled again.

“Be right back,” Steve was saying as he walked out of the room, wobbling as though drunk, and Eddie waved him off.

He sat there, still staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe. His body and mind were completely blissed out; every nerve was singing happily as he luxuriated in the afterglow, letting himself slowly acknowledge what the fuck had just happened to him. What the fuck he and Steve had just done, willingly, enthusiastically, even after he had fucked up so hugely.

He didn’t realise he’d dozed off until he felt the cool touch of a damp towel on his stomach.

“Here.” Steve smiled at him, urging Eddie to wipe his torso off as he did the same. Eddie managed it mechanically, still feeling more liquid than human.

Steve sighed and collapsed next to him on the couch, leaning his own head back and joining Eddie in looking up at the ceiling.

“We should shower, really.”

“We should.” Eddie agreed, but they both just sat there.

When Steve reached out and slipped his hand into Eddie’s, Eddie gripped him back, sliding his fingers between the younger man’s and squeezing softly.

“Hey.” Eddie said, rolling his head to the side and looking at Steve.

“Hey.” Steve looked back at him, glancing pointedly at his mouth, and then they were both kissing again.

“Go out with me?” Steve asked as they leaned their foreheads together, panting breathlessly.

“Yes.” Eddie breathed out, and Steve’s hands covered him all over again, and everything was electric.

~~~FIN~~~

And with that, Steddie are finally together 🥳

For anyone who is interested, this is the night club scene that is playing in the background whilst Eddie and Steve start having that awful little fight. Such inconvenient timing, honestly