#my guy is so grumpy he just needs to be tickled •~•

[kiri-mikua]

ah hello i saw you enjoy fe and i’m not into the fandom as much as i used to be but it’s still very dear to me and i was so excited when i saw that you’re a tickle blog that enjoys fe because they’re so rare and your art style is really cute ahhhh welcome to the community! may i request ephraim tickling innes or the other way around is good too or just any fe tickling in general aksnamsmsm pls and thank you

LEE INNES WHAT- OMG YES YES OFC (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

here some innephraim for u ^^

i hope you enjoy the drawings! ty so much for the request and the kind words • ᵕ •

also, i relate so much! that is actually the very reason why i started the blog xp there is so little content for fe tickles why :"3

im still aiming to make this a fire emblem tk blog xp w other fandoms appearing here n there, so im totally drawing more fire emblem in the near future ๑¯◡¯๑

[waldau]

the most handsome man in the world — seventeen | 1,165 words | fluff

i just needed to get this out of my system okay

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

premise: you tell your boyfriend you've seen a guy you consider to be the most handsome man in the world, wait for him to react, and then show him a picture of him that you took. you know, because he's the most handsome man in the world.

seungcheol

what do you mean you’ve seen a guy more handsome than him? isn’t he broad enough to fill up your entire line of vision? pouts at you cooing over said man on your phone till you hit a little nerve by saying the guy looks like he’d be so good to cuddle with that he immediately marches over to see who you’re giggling over. only to find his face staring back at him. immediately wipes off his frown and tickles you for having done something like that.

jeonghan

is aware that this has to be one of your traps where you want to draw a reaction out of him, so he holds out on giving any commentary for however long he can. it’s only when you roll over in bed, clutching your phone to your chest does he finally break, sneakily pulling you into himself so he can see who you’re talking about. it’s him, of course. had no doubt it would be him but he had to confirm. becomes the big spoon for the rest of the night.

joshua

you don’t ever bring up other people or their attractiveness in conversations, so joshua is mildly interested in hearing if you’re going to elaborate on this guy. doesn’t even consider said person to be a threat till you say something about this guy looking reliable enough to imagine a future with. his curiosity wins and he leans over to see his face lighting up your screen. gives you a kiss to remind you he’s going to fulfill that dream one day.

junhui

is torn between wanting to know who this person is and also not wanting to know because…do you actually find another guy more attractive than him? didn’t you say he’s the most handsome person you know? keeps to himself till you run up to him and show him your phone, only for him to see a picture he’d sent you when he’d been working out at the gym. makes sure to take some more photos for you.

soonyoung

laughs. oh, yeah? really? but then it turns out you’re not joking, because you’re blushing over someone he doesn’t even know? and you’re not telling him about it? chases you around the house to sneak a peek at your phone and collapses into a blushing mess when he realizes it’s him you’re talking about. gives you bear hugs and forces you to cuddle with him for a while to make up for the stress you caused him.

wonwoo

raises an eyebrow when he hears you talking about this really handsome guy you saw in the queue at the cafe today. gets curious the more you talk about him; how didn’t he notice this guy when you did? traps you in place against the wall to see who you’re talking about and can’t help but smirk when he sees it’s himself. gives you a smug kiss and tells you he wants to hear more about what you think of this guy.

jihoon

hears you, nods, focuses his attention back to the song he’s working on and wonders if it could use some more bass. it’s only when he’s about to finalize the song does he realize you were talking about…someone else? spins around to see you lounging on the couch and asks who you were talking about because he wants to jog his memory. feels slightly satisfied when he sees a picture of himself. so he did hear you right. he didn’t.

seokmin

he’s more curious about who you consider to be hot apart from him, more than the fact that this other guy could be a threat to him. indulges in you talking about this guy and theorizes about who it could be till you finally just show him who you were talking about because he apparently couldn’t get a hint. oh. it’s him. he blinks. almost squeals. peppers your face with kisses because his mind is all blank except for you.

mingyu

pouts. becomes a grumpy baby. even if you’ve seen someone more handsome than him (which is impossible, by the way), do you have to rub it in his face? feels more antsy the longer you talk to him about this guy. pulls the puppy face till you show him who you’re looking at. seeing his face on your screen is the last thing he expected, somehow. feels relieved for a few seconds before he makes you promise never to scare him again like that. takes payment in the form of cuddles.

minghao

another one who knows this is one of your ideas to get him to react some way. nods along and even says oh, really? when you tell him about how handsome this guy is, and how you feel kind of shy when you just think about him. doesn’t even need to look at your phone to know there’s no one else you’re talking about, so he tilts your chin to make you face him and presses a kiss to your lips, asking you if that’d help make you less shy.

seungkwan

you’re seriously talking about another guy? right now? stares at you in disbelief, at the fact that you’d do this after he spent his morning making you breakfast and cuddling with you because you seemed a bit exhausted. he’s sure he’s stared enough to burn a hole through your head. you roll over with a laugh and show him who you were looking at. it’s his own self bent over the stove, trying to figure out how to switch it on. pouts and doesn’t face you till you lure him with kisses.

vernon

overhears you talking on the phone with your friend about this handsome guy you saw while you were out on a walk today evening. you don’t stop talking about how he looked at you, how nice his smile was, and how good he looked against the setting sun. his brain runs in loops trying to figure out which guy looked at you like that while your hand was in his. opens his phone to see some pictures you’d taken of him, with the sun setting in the back. smiles and presses a kiss to your head when you’re done with your call.

chan

instantly competitive. him being drunk doesn’t change the fact that he’s the most handsome man in the world. struggles to pull himself out of your embrace to see who you’re talking about so he can give both of you a piece of his mind, only to find a picture of himself smiling goofily at the camera. that’s me, he says, mind a bit slow. where’s the guy you were talking about? turns out he’s the one you’re talking about. snuggles back into you like nothing was ever wrong.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

[aleenuhs]

Helping Arthur release some tension after his right arm got injured in a gunfight. He’s been grumpy and stuck at camp; he could use a helping hand. 🤭

ᯓ★ A Helping Hand

I love this little idea, thanks anon!

warnings & tags: smut (p in v), fluff, nudity, afab!reader/fem!reader, Arthur is a lil angry, mentions of injury, established relationship, pet names, gendered language (she/her, reference to reader)

word count: 1,157

Arthur was starting to get hysterical due to his current situation. He got injured on his right arm, which he used in everyday life, especially when it came to using his guns and crafting.

The more hours he stayed in camp, he wished to be out and doing what he does best. Not that he avoided camp, or maybe he did, but he was there because that's where you were.

"I said I'm fine," he demanded, looking up at you from where he lay on the cot, your eyes wandered to the wrap on his arm, just staring.

"Let me at least get you some coffee, please?" You spoke, and Arthur didn't protest, so you assumed that it was what he wanted. "Good." You grabbed the little mug from his side table. Soon you came back with the mug and some coffee in it. Arthur sat up and took the small mug from you.

"Thank you," he said in almost a murmur. "I ain't want ta ask you for much, sweetie. I know you have stuff that you have to do 'round here."

You frowned a bit, "I finished all my chores, and Ms. Grimshaw said it was fine, don't act like it's a burden, Arthur, when it's not. I love you okay?" You smiled again, sitting beside him, resting your head on his left shoulder, he used his injured arm to swipe a few hairs away from your face.

"A'right then, I love you too," He said to you.

"How does your arm feel?"

"Fine, I want to get back out there." He said with slight desperation in his voice, his eyes bored to the house's walls. You grin.

"Arthur, you need rest." You say placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Remember how I said I was fine? Yea' I meant it." He said, with a little sass in his tone, making you giggle.

"Go tell mister Dutch that," You replied in a murmur but an even sassier tone than his one previously.

"What'd you say?" He said, not catching whatever you just said.

"Nothing." His eyes snap to your expression, and the shrug that crept onto your shoulders. He placed the mug down on the side table.

"Don't do that now..." He looked at you, "what did you say?" You can only giggle at how he yearns to know what you said, suddenly you're right under him, he manhandled you under him and you're still laughing at him. "Guess I'm gonna have to get it outta you one way or the other." He began to tickle you, knowing exactly where to get you, your tummy.

"Hey!" You said suddenly, "No not this right now!"

"Tell me!" He persisted in tickling you, and you were trying to fight back without hurting his arm even more, but you weren't going to win this at all so you sighed heavily.

"I told you to go tell Mister Dutch what you'd said!" You uttered fast and Arthur let go of you, both of you breathing hard, the little tears in your eyes from how much you felt vulnerable while being tickled went away.

"Did'ya now?" He had a smug look on his face, "I just might." You nodded when he said that.

A minute of silence fell into the air between you two, his body on top of yours, careful not to squish you, he stares longingly into your eyes and smiles. "But I wanna stay here with my sweet girl." He kissed you before you could even respond, both of your guys' lips smashing together, he lays himself down next to you bringing you closer. The little squeaks of the bed as you two moved on it filled the air. Your body shifted on top of his, you smiled down at him and he chuckled.

"Whatcha gonna do?" he playfully chided, you looked a bit lost. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you brought your head down to kiss his neck. His warm hands slithered up your legs and stayed on your hips as he kissed you back, your skirt was riding up your thighs and Arthur smiled.

You got up and slid off your underwear and then got back onto the cot, unzipping his pants and taking his cock out. You balanced yourself above his hips, he stared up at you and smiled, your clit dragged against his tip, he groaned a bit, Arthur reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your wetness, making your hips falter a bit. He pushes his cock right into your entrance. A moan escaped your lips, hands finding his chest and applying a bit of pressure as you rode him. His cock stretched you out, and boy did it feel good. "Mhm, such a good girl fa' me..." He put his hands on your hips, slightly guiding them to move even faster.

The room was filled with the sounds of his grunts and your moans, the sounds of skin slapping together. "Fuck.." you moan when his cock hits your g-spot. Your knees already weak, he feels you starting to give up, he assists your efforts by bucking himself up into you. The only other time you've felt the burning sensation in your thighs is when you're riding your horse, but this felt good.

You lean down and kiss him some more, they were sloppy kisses but he took them gladly, you still rolled your hips.

"Takin me so well." He used his left hand to rub your clit, taking you completely over the edge, making you moan even louder. He needed you so bad, he was full of tension and pent up energy from everything. He'd been wanting to fuck you for a long time, a while, he watched you walk around camp talking to everyone as he was supposed to be resting and taking it easy, he would sit near the fire drinking, smoking or cleaning his guns.

He always thought of you, he needed you, what a man you'd made him.

Now, he started to rut faster into you, not taking it easy at all.

"Arthur--" You groaned out in pure pleasure, his rough hands caressed your soft skin, the hands that killed and strangled people, they were so soft to you, they pleasured you.

"Alright there, princess?" He checked on you and you nodded as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. Your cheeks were red and you could feel your cunt clench around him, you were both close, his hands brung you down even harder on him. "Y'gonna cum, girl?" He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him as you came. "Look at me." He demanded.

When your orgasm hit, you shook and moaned out his name. He came shortly after you.

"God-" You cried out in pleasure, "oh my..."

Arthur whimpered a bit, before he held onto you. grasping at your shoulders to keep himself grounded.

"Damn, you did so good for me..." he praised you.

"I did?" You smiled up at him as you laid there on top of his chest. \

"Sure did." He hugged you.

a/n if u liked this pls req more!

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen act with their black cat s/o

requested by anon : hi! can i request how seventeen would act with an s/o with a "black cat" personality? thank you! :>

notes: while writing this i realised i only Kind Of understand what a black cat personality is lmao. so, uh, just go w it u guys okay

masterlist

seungcheol

black labrador x black cat pairing all the way. when you're exhausted with no energy, he's being your protector. when he's upset and feeling terrible, you're his protector. mutual protecting, you know? but it also feels like the "i'm only my softest when i'm with you" feeling with seungcheol, like being in one another's presence allows you to truly and fully relax

jeonghan

he's still coddling and cooing over you no matter what. you could be the most tsundere, grumpy, annoyed person in the world at that moment but he's calling you adorable and asking you in a cute tone how your day was. it's a good thing that you're really really weak for him tbh, bc if anyone else was calling you a little kitten while pinching your cheeks then they are getting punched.

joshua

still as gentlemanly as ever. calls you extravagant nicknames like "my lord" or "my lady" bc he likes to tease that you having a grumpy nature is just bc you're a very picky person, like royalty. slides an arm around you and goes "is he bothering you queen/king?" whenever someone is talking to you who's obviously annoying you. when you're in a bad mood, he's attacking and tickling you until you fall into laughter again

junhui

tabby cat x black cat supremacy yeahhhh!! he's like the curious, innocent, playful cat to your black cat vibes. tsks when you emerge from your room wearing all black to go out somewhere, makes you go back inside and change one (1) piece of clothing into something with more colour. peppers your face with kisses and then demands kisses of his own too

hoshi

head over heels for you, but needs you to initiate everything. grab his hand while walking down the pavement, give him a kiss on the cheek at random times throughout the day. you don't need to tell him "i love you", though, because he knows that already. knows that you tolerating and even enjoying his hyper nature is an "i love you" enough

wonwoo

so basically, you're just two cats that don't go outside and amuse yourselves at home. it's not that you don't like going out, but when both of you are both content with staying indoors, what's the point? silent communication galore, having the ability to read each other's minds and simply knowing, without having to say anything, just how much you mean to each other

woozi

lowkey, he enjoys it because it means he gets to be the one to talk the most in the relationship. bro has a lot to say, okay, with the funniest opinions and adlibs and really does love talking. he's still a great listener ofc, and sometimes there are days where the both of you just sit in silence. which he finds absolutely brilliant, because he's actually found someone to sit in silence with who's just like him

minghao

the sassy duo. lowkey also the fashion duo, bc i can just imagine you two in matching sunglasses and matching fashion styles, sitting cross-legged and peering, unimpressed, over the rims of the glasses at whoever is being weird this time. the best thing ever is how you just Get each other's sense of humour, and i can imagine endless weird inside jokes between the two of you that make you grin over at each other during big gatherings

mingyu

golden retriever bf (1). bouncy and bumbling and excitable. thinks you're the brightest and loveliest angel in the world. sure, maybe you have your introverted moments and won't let him hug you but personal boundaries exist, right? he gets that. he's your Protector™ fr, even though he knows you're one badass mf that doesn't need protecting

dokyeom

golden retriever bf (2). loud asf. a ray of sunshine that would have blinded you if he wasn't also just adorably soft and sweet. the type to lean over and whisper "so, we don't like them?" when he catches sight of you glaring at someone while you're meeting up with friends. whines like a dejected puppy when you (jokingly) tell him to go away

seungkwan

is kinda sad that you're not all too keen on receiving his kisses and his hugs, but to make up for it he engages in all the other love languages instead until he finds the one that you adore the most. the most accommodating and attentive, bc you may not communicate your opinions that much, but don't worry because he's trained himself to be attentive to your every move

vernon

vernon is normally a listener, but like woozi, being with you allows him to talk more, and also allows you to laugh more. he has the craziest stories which make you smile after a hard day. he enjoys talking, when it's to you, who'll watch him attentively, humming and smiling and he enjoys that it's only him that you'll be so sweet and gentle with

chan

your Biggest Supporter Ever. you don't even need to be doing anything, he's just gonna support you no matter what. would fully believe you if you said that you were taking part in a secret space project to go to Mars. backs you up whenever someone is making you uncomfortable/annoyed/angry no matter the situation. you don't need to say the words "i love you" to him, don't worry, because he says it enough for the both of you.

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[cowgurrrl]

More domestic Joel Miller headcanons because I can’t stop thinking about him

When Tommy and Maria have their daughter, Joel absolutely falls in love with her. You two take turns helping the new parents out so they can get some sleep which means you get to watch Joel hold the tiny baby

He will bounce her around the dimly lit room, humming whatever song is stuck in his head, and his curls are a mess on top of his head and he looks so tired but he’s so happy

As she gets older, she clings to him and cannot get enough of him

One time you were walking through town together and you heard a very loud “UNCA JOE” coming from behind you

Joel lit up like a Christmas tree when he turned around and saw the little girl abandoning Maria to rush across the town square and into his arms

She and Ellie become fast friends and the two become little trouble makers despite their 14 year age gap

Speaking of trouble, Ellie constantly makes fun of how affectionate you and Joel are at home. On patrol, you keep it professional and barely even kiss each other goodbye. But, once you’re in the comfort of your own home, all bets are off

This man was so touch-starved for so many years but now that he has you, he is the clingiest man alive

Joel will come up behind you when you’re doing something and wrap his arms around you, kiss your neck, tickle you, whatever he needs to do to distract you

He LOOOVVVEEESSS laying his head in your lap and letting you run your fingers through his hair while you ramble about your day

Can’t fall asleep unless he’s touching some part of you

He has a horrible habit of smacking your ass any chance he gets (poor Ellie)

“You guys are gross,” she’s yelled across the room so many times you’ve lost count. Joel thinks it’s hilarious each time

“You’re gross,” he’ll accuse before letting go of you and turning to face her. “You don’t have to be so jealous. There’s enough Joel Miller to go around.” He teases before wrapping her in a big hug and spinning her around the room

Her squeals of laughter could power a whole city as she screams at him to put her down

Loves cooking even if it took him a long time to learn

You and Ellie grinned your way through some truly awful meals but he got better and now you actually look forward to when he cooks

Teaches Ellie how to cook even though she’s more impatient than he is

You manage to snap a Polaroid of the two of them at the stove with their backs to you and under it you wrote “Chefs Miller + Williams”

Oh my god the nicknames they would come up with for each other

Ellie Bellie was the first one and then it quickly divulged into Elle Belle, Bellie, Smellie, Smell, Elle, and so many more

At one point, you were each calling her Beleanor Roosevelt

Joel’s nicknames get cycled through pretty quickly: Joey, Jo Bro, Joel Bowl, Bowl, Grumpy McGrumps (curtesy of Ellie), Goel (Joel’s drunk alter-ego) and whatever else ends up sticking

Joel is one of the most intelligent men you have ever met and you would (and have) trusted him with your life but Jesus Christ is he oblivious when Ellie starts dating

Sarah wasn’t really interested in dating so Joel never had to talk to her about anything but with Ellie EVERYTHING is different

Ellie never really came out in the sense that she never sat you two down to have an emotional conversation. She just kinda came home with Cat and told you she was her girlfriend

You were being a typical protective figure for Ellie and asked Cat lots of questions but even then you weren’t sure if you thought Cat was right for Ellie. Joel, however, was surprisingly quick to welcome Cat and didn’t have any qualms about Ellie dating

When you asked him about it later, he shrugged and said, “I think it’s nice that Ellie has good girlfriends like her”

“No, Joel. Cat is Ellie’s girlfriend not a girlfriend”

“I’m lost”

Once you explain it to him, he goes into Ellie’s room and they talk for a long time about God knows what

Joel Miller may be from Texas but that man supports his daughter, no matter what

Neither of you ended up being a huge fan of Cat but once Ellie and Dina start dating, it’s over

Joel invites Dina over for dinner every chance he gets and embarrasses Ellie each time but Dina loves it

Subtly tries to teach Ellie love songs on the guitar

Ellie subtly lets him

You subtly fall deeper in love and the life you have built with them

In conclusion, Joel Miller would be the sweetest little domestic guy if given the chance.

Give me my last paragraph back or give me death 🍓🍓🍓

[abbeym28]

I Will

Second drabble! This one is more centered around the reader and Megumi's relationship as the reader raises him with Satoru. 1,408 words this time <3 It does end with Gojo getting sealed and there is some angst, and I promise that Gojo is actually in it lol! Again can be read as a stand alone fic or in a series, but how I'm writing them right now there really isn't an order to them.

Megumi snuggled closer into your side. You two were on a blanket looking up at the stars while Satoru was busy picking up Tsumiki from her after school clubs. They had run a little late, and with it being fall, the sun had left the sky and there were more things to look up at.

You know that Megumi really enjoys the night and the stars. He has told you about every other constellation and the history behind them on nights like this before, but tonight, he was just silent.

“What’s on your mind, sweet boy?” Megumi let one of your hands gently comb through the spikes of his hair. He hated when Satoru touched his hair, but he found it easy to trust you and let you mess it up.

“I… I’m really… glad you and Gojo got together. And that you are raising us.” A soft smile spread across your face without you knowing as you pulled him a bit closer.

“Oh Megumi. We are also so glad to have you with us. Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person in the whole world?” There was a small pout on his lips that made his cheeks chubbier as he lifted his head more so he could look at you.

Megumi didn’t ever really share things like this often, and it worried you a bit. Was something wrong? He slightly tugged on your sleeve, and you let him fiddle with it while you waited for him to say something else in response.

“Am I really your favorite person? Like, do you, like, love me more than Gojo? And Tsumiki?” You laughed a bit as you lifted the hand that wasn’t in his hair to his cheek as you stroked it softly. He leaned into your hand a bit, unconsciously. Your heart melted a bit.

Satoru did that too. They were a lot more alike than either of them would ever admit.

“Of course. Don’t tell either of them, but you are. Satoru and Tsumiki have each other, so that means you get to be my little boy.” he giggled slightly as you started pressing small kisses all over his face and when your hands started to gently tickle his sides. “You will always have me on your side, ‘k?” Megumi nodded as a rare look of joy was spread over his normally grumpy face.

“I will be on your side too. When you and Gojo get divorced, I’m going to live with you!” the sparkles in his eyes and smile on his face as he said that made you choke out a disbelieved laugh.

“Divorce? Sweety, we would need to be married first.” he just hummed in agreement as he again began to snuggle in closer to you. He must have been getting cold, so you grabbed your jacket that was laying next to you and set it over him. He curled up a bit more so that way he could get more warmth.

“Okay. Once you guy’s get married, I will take your last name, that way you really are my parent.” Scratch what you said earlier about him being quieter.

And where was he hearing all of this stuff?

“If we do get married, we don't all have to have the same last name. If that is okay with you and your sister, you guys could keep your own last name. And Satoru's clan would be upset if I married and didn't take the Gojo name. But if that is the case, you can’t call Satoru Gojo anymore. Otherwise, it will get confusing.”

Megumi’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Satoru had been trying for a solid year to get Megumi to call him anything other than Gojo (ie- his first name, dad, great protector, strongest one.)

The closest he’s come is the nicknames bitch and idiot.

(You suspect he got that from his school- you don’t like it but Gojo insists that it has a good educational system. You suppose that the only other school option you have is jujutsu high, but even with Megumi’s family lineage and cursed technique you have been doing your best to keep both of the kids away from that life. Besides, Satoru and Shoko both have dirty mouths that sometimes slip in front of the kids.)

“I don’t care for Satoru. I think we should kick him out.” That was a lie, and you both knew that it was. Despite his harsh words, Megumi cared for his “surrogate” dad even though he was still incredibly salty to him.

“I don’t think so. I still love him.” He let out a sigh that suggested he was both too tired and sick of this constant talk of your boyfriend.

The two of you lapsed back into silence.

That was until the front door was heard opening and you heard Satoru’s voice yell out, calling your names.

“Honey, I’m home!” You untangled yourself from Megumi as you both got up to greet the other two at the door.

“Hey.” you took bag the he was holding (Tsumiki’s school bag) as Satoru put Tsumiki on the ground after previously being on his shoulders. She ran into another room, most likely the kitchen, as Satoru got down knees and opened his arms.

You watched as he wiggled his eyebrows towards Megumi, who was standing on the sideline.

Megumi shook his head as a look of fear took over his features.

Satoru’s grin widened as he moved closer, close enough so that way he could sweep his feet off the floor as he pressed a flurry of wet kisses all over his kiss.

This was probably bad. Too much affection would probably stop the poor boy's heart. But soon enough both of their giggles filled up the space as Megumi called out uncle. He took a few seconds to catch his breath and readjust his clothes, but once he composed himself he sent a glare at Satoru.

“This is why I hate you. You are my least favorite person.” he then turned around and stalked off to his room. Satoru turned to you, his smile still very much on his face.

“I guess he’s reaching that age. Do you think it will get any easier once they are teenagers?"

“I do”

His eyes softened as he looked into yours, and one of his arms circled around your waist as he pulled you towards him.

He pulled in for a soft kiss, one that made you feel every gallon of he has for you and your small family of four, along for the future you all had together.

Once he pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours as he swayed back and forth a little.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” Those whispered words warmed your heart. It seemed like today was a day of sweet confessions.

You didn’t know how this had happened.

You held Megumi close to your chest as you felt his tears sink through your uniform.

Nanami was dead, Nobara’s condition was very unstable, some old curse had taken control of the body of an old friend, and your love had been sealed into a box.

Shibuya had gone wrong in all of the worst ways, in ways that led to you comforting your normally emotionless son as he weeped for a person he had spent his young years scheming against. Tears slipped past your eyes as you pressed a kiss on to the top of his head.

Itadori had eaten a lot of fingers, the Zenin clan had come to an end, Tsumiki was now in the culling games, and Principal Yaga had died at the hands of an unfair sentence.

“He’s the strongest. He’ll get out, right?” Megumi whispered the words, and they were almost too muffled for you to hear, but you heard them anyway.

The way he said sounded so hopeful, just as if he was back to being a boy who was scared by thunderstorms but who knew it would end soon.

“Of course he will, sweet boy. He will always come back to us.”

But even if your words let go of some of the tension from your son's shoulders, you almost found it hard to believe yourself. You didn’t doubt your husband, but this was a whole nother situation you had never thought of or prepared for.

This was not the future you had wanted for your family.

[the-traveling-poet]

We hit 400 followers!! Love you guys T-T 🤎

As promised, a scenario in which Levi has to continually put up with reader’s bratty teasing until he just cant take it anymore-

(trying out some light smut here for the first time :3 key word light, don’t judge)

One thing Levi Ackerman never expected to enjoy was what he would commonly refer to as ‘mushy sappy shit’.

And yet here he was, shooting you a look across the room from where you both sat; his brows drawn up and his lower lip slightly pouted as he gave you what you adoringly called his ‘needy eyes’.

“Y/N?” He tried again, wondering for the nth time if this was what it would take you to come across the room to him, if he dared to speak your name so softly.

“ ‘Y/N’…what?” You’d teasingly chuckle in response. Oh, how you loved to tease him so, if only to watch the way his usual scowl turned into a grumpy pout. He’d rather die than have anyone else see an exchange such as this one, but when it was just the two of you, he’d let your bratty behavior slide in favor of the warmth you would inevitably provide him after you tired of your game.

So he sat patiently, even scooting his chair slightly towards an angle, as though to silently make his pleas for contact more feasible in your eyes.

And goddamnit, how it worked nearly every time. But today, you decided you’d rather have him ask a little nicer before giving in.

“How am I to know just what it is you want, if you won’t directly ask it?” You tried again, biting your lip to hold back a giggle bubbling in your throat. Levi scowled, casting his eyes downward.

If he had to play dirty to get his way, then so be it.

“Y/N, baby…come sit on my lap, please?” He rasped out, shooting you his most convincing look through inky bangs.

It was uncharacteristic, the way he was behaving. But even more so was your reactions; thighs squeezing a little tighter together on the sofa and a soft breath caught in your throat in place of the giggle that had since been smothered out.

Feeling your face tingle with what you could only assume was an inevitable blush, you attempted to clear your throat.

“Sit…sit on your l-lap?” You nearly choked getting the words out of your suddenly dry mouth. In response he only loosed a tired breath before shoving back his chair from his desk to take a stand.

“Fine, have it your way.” He mumbled, stalking across the room towards you. As he approached, you subconsciously scooted back on the couch’s plush seat and held your breath.

“You’ve had your fun; an hour’s worth, as I recall. And I’ve had to sit there and just endure it. Do you know what that does to me?” He snorted a barley there chuckle, looking deeply into your eyes as he leaned against the couch towards your face.

“All I wanted was you to sit with me. Maybe get a kiss, if I were lucky. But I think enough is enough; don’t you, darling?” His tone dropped an octave, husky tone shaking you to the core.

“I-“

“No, sweetheart. You can be quiet now. You’ve won, after all. But…I’ll be taking the prize this time.”

His breathe tickled your neck, nudging your chin to the side with his forehead to allow him further access to the sensitive skin there. Your hands instinctively searched for his, but didn’t make the grasp in time before his slender fingers were already making their way up either side of your thighs towards the loosely tied string keeping your lounge pants up at the waist.

“Levi-“ You gasped out, finding your voice was all but gone.

He groaned softly, lips sucking tenderly at your pulse point.

“Hush, love,” He whispered against your throat, the need in his tone unmistakable.

“Just relax…relax for me.”

Loosening the cravat around his neck, he looses a shaky sigh as his breaths drew in shakier and his lips eagerly made the short journey from your neck towards your jaw, only stopping to worship it for a moment before continuing on.

Oh, how had the roles of your long played game suddenly turned on you. Now it was him, teasing you with barley there kisses along your cheeks, kissing antagonistically close to your lips but never touching. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help your thighs but to squirm against the feather light touches from the pads of his fingers. Before you knew it, the string had come undone from your waistline and fell across your thighs, shortly followed by the thin material of your lounge pant’s waistband.

A broken, shuddery gasp slipped past your lips unbidden, the moment those same tantalizing fingers ghosted over the even thinner material of your briefs, making your hips flinch against the pressure.

You were only briefly distracted by the dry chuckle resonating from Levi’s parted lips now hovering over your own, drawing your attention to the way he panted above your figure with barely contained desire.

“You’ve teased me for weeks. Now it’s my turn darling, so sit back and take it.”

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Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

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[kairiscorner]

looks like someone put a pause on the grumpiness ; )

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader pt. 2

(part 1)

surprisingly, you were quite calm for the past few days. you seldom got annoyed at everyone, in fact, you seemed a little nicer. everyone was more horrified of you being nicer than usual than the classic, snappy image of you that they were so used to seeing.

you had a smile on more often, it unsettled a lot of people, but when they found out you were genuinely happier, they couldn't have been any more relieved. they didn't know what changed in you that you were suddenly a more friendly, more approachable person than before, but they didn't need to know.

miguel, of course, was very aware of what changed; and he was falling for that version of you as each and every day passed by.

behind closed doors, you were a goofy, beautifully emotional mess in front of miguel. you would change your expression and demeanor on the dime when it was necessary, can't have everyone think you didn't care about work anymore; but you liked letting loose every once in a while, especially when it came to the man who, once feared you greatly, now loves you wholly.

you two tried to keep your little "companionship" under wraps, sometimes some random spider person would catch you two together and think that you two would snap each other's necks off, but no, you two would just talk. and smile at each other. that was a scarier sight, so they'd just walk or swing off and pretend they saw nothing, it wasn't their business, anyway.

"feels good being feared, huh?" miguel asked you with a chuckle as he looked into your eyes, taking in how breathtaking you look, right in front of him; flashing him the sweetest smile he'd ever be treated to in his entire life. "you like being respected like the scary little spider you are?" he teased as he ran a hand through your hair, his smile widening all the while as he heard you giggle.

"it is quite... fun to have them run away or straighten up when i enter the room. it used to be offensive, but i wear the impressions they have of me as badges of honor." you expressed with exaltation, kind of a little too proud that you were well respected, at least in your perspective, at HQ. you loved being a leader, you hated it when others griped or disobeyed your orders, let alone someone else tell you what to do; and you took no nonsense none of the time.

recently, you were more lenient with your leading style--you gave the spider people under your leadership some breathing room, gave them more breaks, you barked less orders at them. you always gave constructive criticism and proper advice on how to wrap up missions neatly; you just always struggled with delivery, you weren't exactly the best people person, but you had a big heart, even if you kept it hidden away from many eyes.

miguel sighed in contentment as he leaned closer towards you, a small pink hue dashing his cheeks. "i do seem to find myself a little attracted to someone who can keep up with my style of leadership. someone who knows what they want and won't back down until they get it just the way they want it." he muttered as you felt his breath hot against your face, your noses nearly brushing over each others, which sent a shock up your spine, causing you to sit up straighter, and to blush a deep red shade.

"i know you're smitten with me, o'hara, i just didn't think you'd be, what was the term? ah, masochi-" you were cut off as he put a finger on your lips, laughing to himself softly. "i'm just simply admiring a strong, capable, scary comrade." he said as he rubbed the tip of his finger over your soft lips.

you chuckled back. "that tickles." you commented as his finger rested on your lower lip. before either of you could do anything else, lyla appeared in between the two of you, looking smug and snarky as usual.

"hey lovebirds, anyway, stop being like a married couple for a minute and check this out." she said as she pulled up a slideshow of pictures of another universe your most recent team was sent to. they were tied up in their own webs and the villain was causing mass destruction, civilians running away every which way, it was utter madness.

miguel sighed and cursed under his breath in spanish as the your bottom eyelid twitched as you continued smiling as if nothing were wrong.

"this is what i get for being too nice, apparently." you grumble as you headed off to get your equipment. but before you could even go, miguel gently grabbed hold of your wrist, looking at you with soft eyes. "regardless of what trouble they get in, or how much destruction is out there... you're always a great leader. it wasn't your fault for being more lenient, they should've been more responsible and organized. okay? you're doing amazing already as you are, querida." he said as he tucked a lock of stray hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek as his palm found its way down your face.

you smiled at his comforting words, it took your anger away by a smidge and reassured you a whole lot more than you expected it to. "okay. thank you, miggy." you thanked him as you gave him a peck on the cheek and grinned as you walked off to get your equipment, leaving in your wake a flustered mess of miguel.

he leaned against his desk and grinned widely, lyla taking pictures of his astonished self as he takes in the softness of your lips, the sweetness and reality of your kiss on his cheek.

you gave your team a stern and firm talking-to about following protocol, the plan, and not straying away from the team to please their own ego. you did some screaming, but they weren't complaining; they didn't do as you said, and they got themselves tangled up in that mess.

but as you were chewing them out, miguel came by and petrified every single one of them with his signature, cold gaze. "think they learned their lesson?" he asked you with his hands on his hips as he peered at you. "i'm hoping they did." you said as you looked at him with your arms crossed on your chest.

after a few seconds of you two playing the angry parents card, you and miguel cracked into smiling faces and laughed a little at how scary you were both being in front of these guys. you dismissed them with a warning, and you sighed.

"you did a great job paralyzing them with your gaze, grumpy mcgrumpface." you teased miguel as he looked at you with a grin. "not as much as how you were raising your voice to get your point across, the scary grumpspider." he retorted playfully as he moved closer to you, facing you and taking in all your beauty.

"i love you." he mutters as you mutter an 'i love you, too' back at him. he closed the distance between you two with a soft kiss, it was simple, it was sweet, it was short; but he told you everything he felt, had ever felt, and will ever feel in that brief kiss he planted on your lovely lips.

"can't believe grumpy mcgrumpface has such good kissing skills." you remarked as you ran your finger over your lips. he chuckled as he cupped your face in his hands. "wanna see how far i can go with those skills, oh scary grumpspider?"

a/n: this was supposed to be angst, but this is your canon event with him <333

tags !! @miguelswifey04

[sweetainwen]

ᴜɴᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴsɪɢʜᴛ [WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE]

Summary: the creator just wanted to find the reason for that system error, but she had brought with her an unwanted insight into the game itself, causing a dangerous and unexpected collapse within him.

Pairings: yandere!Scaramouche/Wanderer x fem!OC (you can think of her as Y/N)

Genre: sagau, yandere!au, isekai!au, futuristic!au, sci-fi!au.

Warnings: jealous!wanderer, fluff, angst, d^aths (no blood tho), wanderer losing his mind, noncon kissing.

SUMERU ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE FONTAINE RELEASE, SO IT'S NOT PRESENT

THE WANDERER'S NAME IS THE ONE I CHOOSE (IT MEANS "LIGHT", "RADIANCE")

Word count: 12k+

A hand gently, lightly brushing his hair. The humming of a sweet, soothing tune tickling his ears. A smile, a face, a calm voice and muffled words.

His eyes struggled to focus.

Everything was blurry, but he could catch those details of the one who was tenderly lulling him.

She was moving her lips, she was talking. but he did not understand. He was still groggy. Nevertheless, he sensed it.

It was home.

“Here, your food.”

He snapped his eyes open, staring at the bowl in front of him before looking up at the arm holding the item and finally at the person sitting to his left on a medium tree trunk.

The Wanderer saw her give him a surprised look, blinking.

“Oh, sorry, did you fall asleep?”

He let out a grunt, almost snatching the bowl out of her hand and spilling out its contents, causing her to gasp slightly.

“My, how grumpy,” she snickered amusedly. “It seems like I'm putting you through torture. You can't call me a bad cook, big hat guy.”

He took the spoon between his fingers, sighing annoyed at the way he had been called for the thousandth time, “Quit with that name.”

“I would if I had a real name to call you by,” she shrugged with a smirk on her face, the spoon playing with the food in the bowl. “But since you won't tell me, I had to give you one. It suits you, doesn't it?”

Her eyes were fixed on his hat at that question, and the Wanderer preferred to ignore it, causing her to put on a feigned pout.

She took a bite of her lunch, "Is this how you treat your travel companion?"

“You are not.”

“But we are traveling together to Sumeru!”

“You have decided to join. Without my consent,” he reminded her, his gaze now on her.

“You didn't refuse though.”

This time her sullen face was genuine.

He stared at her without arguing back, the impulse to leave her there on the spot taking over. However it dissipated shortly after the lively gleam in her eyes struck him.

Again.

“Stop talking and eat up. We need to get back on the road.”

He brought his gaze back to the food, but he could feel the young woman's victorious smile.

She was truly a whirlwind in perpetual motion. She got into constant trouble between hilichurls, treasure hoarders, and even fatui.

It was better to call her a loose cannon.

That was just how he had met her several days before, though the hilarious part was that the hoarders were running away from her.

And he even ended up in the middle of their battle when those bandits had tried to use him as a shield.

It had been a scene comical enough to almost make him sneer.

And that was when she proclaimed herself as his travel companion, since they had to go the same way.

“Have you gone freaking nuts?” he blurted out with crossed arms.

She blinked before putting on a huge smile, “Why not?”

“I could kill you too.”

“You don't seem like a bad guy at all, hat guy," she shook her head, stretching her hand toward him and eyes twinkling like stars. “I'm Clara. No last name, just Clara. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

And he had let her come with him.

He felt a kind of force drawing him toward the young woman. He could not respond in any other way to her gestures and words than with indulgence.

And it irked him that it was no problem for him.

Those eyes on him now accentuated the annoyance he had been feeling for the past few days.

As a result, he put into action what he thought whenever he was stared at intensely by her before continuing on his journey.

A movement of his hand was enough to create a vortex that surrounded the young woman and carried her away from him.

The gasp of surprise and words of displeasure never failed to be heard.

But she always managed to return and take him wherever she wanted to go.

Such as booking a room at an inn for the night.

“Using your element to get rid of me is completely pointless. You are perfectly aware that I'd be back on my feet in no time,” Clara sneered at him, sitting on the windowsill with one leg toward her chest as he lay on the bed far from the open window.

“And you acknowledge the fact that I could harm you with that.”

She giggled in response, and he saw that particular glint in her eyes again that if he could lose his breath, it would have happened by now. The smile that followed it made the picture even more vivid.

“You would have already done what you had to do, Hikaru.”

He frowned, astonishment at hearing that name, “What?”

“Oh. Calling you big hat guy all the time doesn't seem appropriate, and since you won't tell me your name, I decided to give you a real one. Why?” She brought her arm on her knee before resting her chin on it. “You don't like it?”

“Why that name?”

This time, the smile she showed him was a sweet one, devoid of any malice.

“Because you remind me of how a person can emanate their own light, and head towards the end,” she explained in a soft voice, her face now turned up to the night sky. “Like a bright star high in the sky.”

Silence filled the room.

The Wanderer did not know what to answer, and he did not want to answer. The name said so lightly, but with meaning, was the same one the traveler had given him.

It was so strange.

“Although... these stars and this sky seem to have something wrong with them.”

The Wanderer sat on the edge of the bed, confused by the sudden change of subject, “Wrong how?”

He watched carefully as her expression became thoughtful, almost serious, absorbed in finding an explanation.

“It's as if ... you want to go one way, but you are pushed in another. Determined to follow that set thought of yours, but it gets diverted, and you don't know whether to continue or not. A false sense of control. A purpose-built hope.”

She went back to look at him. And the feeling he got from it was totally different.

She seemed to be observing him, seeking something deep within him. Like an astrologist reading your future.

“Well, it's probably just my mindless reasoning," she shrugged, her facial features softening. “I'm going to go to sleep now. Good night, Hikaru.”

And as she got up and headed for her bed, that feeling vanished along with her no longer being in his line of sight.

He lay back down again, confused for the umpteenth time by their interactions. There was definitely a double meaning in what she had said, and he even began to believe that it had some connection to the reason for her journey to Sumeru.

And at that point, after days and nights together, he was wondering: what was she looking for?

Everything was dark, he could see nothing. He could only hear murmurs and noises.

But then there was a gentle touch, his hair being tousled by her hand.

All went quiet, and a faint, sweet chuckle echoed in that darkness before making way for a soft, muffled voice.

He felt it. Deafening and overpowering. That strange feeling.

“You're such a good boy.”

Like it was home.

He snapped his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was Clara’s surprised and slightly worried face.

“Is everything all right?”

Disoriented, he tried to grasp the situation. One of her hands was at the side of his head, while the other was in his. He couldn’t blink.

And Clara, surely noticing his inquisitive look, was quick to explain.

“I saw you stirring in your sleep. I thought you were having a nightmare so I tried to wake you up, but you grabbed my hand,” she showed him their intertwined hands. “Then I tried to soothe you with caresses and reassuring words. And it worked.”

She gave him a smile, but he said nothing. He only stared at her.

Clara tilted her head slightly to the side at that reaction, not understanding what else he wanted to know. Or he probably didn't believe what she had told him.

She did not give it much thought.

When Clara felt his grip loosen, she gently freed her hand from his, standing up.

“I brought your breakfast. It’s on the bedside table. Eat with no rush, I’m going downstairs.”

And she walked on, closing the door behind her.

The Wanderer sat at the edge of the bed and sighed deeply, his eyes going to the tray with his breakfast mentioned by Clara.

He had been experiencing those moments for days now. It was beyond annoying.

Dreams that showed scenarios that then affected him emotionally and psychologically when he woke up. Not just any scenes, but of himself in situations that seemed familiar despite the fact that he had never actually experienced them.

Memories.

It was also strange and impossible. Because he was a puppet. He could not sleep, consequently neither could he dream. However, he was doing both, and he was unaware of how he was doing it.

What was he to expect now? That he would no longer have to pretend that he had to eat?

Of one thing he was sure though. It had all started after the arrival of the one he was now watching chatting and giggling with an inn employee outside the inn after leaving the room.

He sensed it. That greater force pushing him back toward her.

Uncontrollable and domineering.

And another emotion mixed with it. An emotion so strong that he wanted to rip off the head of that young man standing too much close to her.

Instead, he moved closer, catching their attention, and with a movement of his fingers, he made a vortex appear around the young woman that dragged her away from the guy, leaving both of them stunned and confused.

And after throwing a glance that made the unfortunate man shudder, he went behind the whirlwind with Clara rolling her eyes.

He just sneered, feeling a little better. Clara huffed after being released far from the inn, adjusting her disheveled clothes and walking toward the direction they had come from.

Knowing her intentions, he stepped in front of her and before she could even open her mouth to argue, he revealed the object of interest and threw it at her, watching as she tried hard not to drop it.

“Your bag,” he informed her, putting a hand on his hip.

She just shot him a glare, her eyes almost twitching.

“What am I surprised about? Your social skills certainly can't improve in a snap of the fingers,” she muttered displeased, fixing her shoulder bag over one shoulder and checking the contents for possible breakage. “Be more careful when holding other people’s things! And stop frightening people for no reason at all! Poor guy was praying that he wouldn't end up in pieces.”

He did not speak, resuming his walk as if he had heard nothing.

“Ignoring my words, are you?” she gave up, going after him.

“Just a little while and we will arrive at our destination,” was what he communicated instead.

He suddenly felt himself grabbed by the arm, almost causing him to lose his balance, and caught her radiant face a few inches away from his.

He could tell he had had a heart attack at this.

“Really?! Finally! Then we must hurry, I can’t wait to get there!”

He frowned, trying to break free from her grasp, but was taken aback by her sudden jerk forward before she started running and dragging him with her.

She was too enthusiastic for his liking, a child in an adult's body. Hopping here and there like a rabbit with a goofy smile and sparkling eyes through the streets of Sumeru.

He felt like a nanny and couldn't say he was pleased about it.

“Sumeru is just as it was portrayed to me. I love it!”

“Your elation over a city is quite childlike. I could swear I'm dealing with a child.”

She hopped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks and puffing out her cheeks, “And you’re too edgy and grumpy for my liking. Change your mood when you’re with me. I won’t tolerate a gloomy atmosphere.”

“You’re such a-“

“Cute, lovable, little person? I am, thanks for noticing that, Hikaru.”

She stuck out her tongue at him before a smile spread across her face, and he grimaced at what he called her antics. Realizing the presence of the god of wisdom coming toward them with her lips upward instead made him roll his eyes.

“I take great pleasure in seeing that you have finally found yourself a friend.”

That sweet, little voice made Clara turn around, and was taken aback as soon as she saw who was before her.

The Wanderer placed one hand on his hip, shaking his head at her words, “You shouldn’t.”

Nahida slightly giggled, shifting her focus on the young woman by his side, conscious of how she struggled to conceal her astonishment and nervousness in her presence.

“I’m- I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Dendro Archon! I’m… I’m Clara!”

“Very delighted to meet you, Clara.” She almost cooed at her reaction. “I’m hoping he’s not causing you any distress.”

She gesticulated, eyes wide open, “Oh! Of course, he isn’t! Our traveling proceeded smoothly! Not one person was the victim of his aggressive look or word!”

The Wanderer gave her a look and Clara pressed her lips together after the gaffe she had made.

The little Archon cocked her head to the side, entertained by their interaction. But the most interesting behavior was that of the former balladeer, somehow influenced by the young woman to be more calm and condescending.

“You seem to get along pretty well.”

The duo looked at her, baffled. Before they could comment, the clatter of rapidly approaching wheels against the ground alerted the young man.

His hand was quick to rest on her hip, bringing her closer to himself and thus preventing her from being run over by the wooden cart.

The man carrying it apologized several times under Hikaru’s grim gaze, and Clara and Nahida’s surprised eyes before going on his way.

Clara thanked him and, moving slightly away from him, turned to Nahida with a curious look, “There is a lot of movement around. Is there any celebration going on?”

“A festival. Would you like to partecipate?”

Her eyes sparkled, “Can I really?”

“There is no prohibition on this,” Nahida giggled. “Everyone is welcome. With Hikaru's company, it will be easier to integrate.”

“Excuse me?” his eyebrow shot up.

“She’s not familiar with Sumeru. Consequently, someone who is should be her guide.”

It wasn't the beaming face and the implied order of the Dendro Archon, it was Clara's eyes filled with expectation and eagerness to witness a common joy that dragged him through the stalls ― one of which she had almost ended up being scammed and if it hadn't been for her stopping him, he would have probably literally blown up every one of his pieces for sale and the seller himself ― and ultimately among the people moving to the beat of the music.

But he had stood on the sidelines, leaning against a tree and watching as she laughed and got involved with the locals. On her head the hat she had snatched from him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Her face that showed eyes like sparkling gems filled with life, red cheeks, and lips fully spread in a joyful smile.

She was some sort of flower in the midst of the desert. You found it strange that it was there and at the same time you thought it was wonderful to see it there.

It led you to get closer and stand there admiring it. To cup your hands at its sides and hide it from any intruder.

A sight that you wanted only yours to witness.

And the way he was thinking irked him.

His ears sensed a shift in the air, and Hikaru was able to quickly catch the hat Clara had thrown at him with one hand.

“Guess you’re not fond of festivals. Or should I say people in general?” she remarked, moving to his side and placing her elbow on his shoulder. “Oh, look! I can touch your shoulder even like this!” she added in mock surprise.

He didn't speak, but Clara saw him raise his arm slightly and form a small swirl of air from his hand. She stepped back just far enough not to be blown away with her hands in surrender ― although she didn't think he would really do that.

She tried not to laugh, but it was impossible.  

And it was in that instant that Hikaru saw all around her become blurred and overlaid by an environment all too familiar to him. Her clothes replaced by others and her laughter accentuated.

It echoed in his ears. Overbearing, piercing.

It mixed with the muffled music and chatter in the background of the festival.

A desperate cry broke in, words overlapping each other. Distorted and almost inaudible.

His head began to ache, his eyes squinted, and an annoying ringing thrummed in his ears.

And it became more and more unbearable.

He wanted it to stop. It fucking hurt.

“Please! Please, don’t leave me!”

“Are you all right?”

The suffering vanished as soon as her hands touched his cheeks, bringing him back to the present.

“It's better if you reach a quieter place. Or maybe go straight to bed. It's pretty late, I'd say.”

He didn’t utter a word, completely disoriented by this event. And with no hesitation, he agreed with her suggestion, leaving that chaotic place under Clara’s attentive eyes.

She crossed her arms pensively.

“I assume that your research is not bearing fruit, given the way the situation is somewhat out of control.”

Clara looked at the Dendro Archon beside her, blinking away the fear from her eyes and with a hand on her chest the near heart attack she had from her sudden arrival.

“Don’t ever do that again if you do not wish for my death!” She exhaled, “I cannot ask such questions without having at least a phase of knowledge and trust between us. It will just take a little longer because of his wariness. Nothing is out of control. What gave you this impression?”

Nahida didn’t look away from the crowd and Clara followed suit, “Is this the first time he has shown himself like that?”

Realizing that she was referring to how Hikaru had grabbed his head with one hand and his face had distorted in pain, Clara cocked her head to the side, not sure how to respond.

“I think it is. Although he had a pretty awful nightmare last night. He wouldn't stop squirming and at one point wouldn't even let go of my hand. The situation is indeed quite strange.” She shook her head, crossing her arms again, “He should not experience this kind of thing; he is a puppet. Still, seeing him trying to hide it is very amusing.”

She smiled, amused by the memory of him eating and sleeping like a normal human being.

Nahida hummed thoughtfully, “It may be a consequence of your closeness.”

Her gaze ended on her again, and Nahida did the same.

“You two share something deep,” she replied at her silent question. Something that both unites and changes you.”

“Like… a connection? Are you trying to say that because of this connection that we have,” she pointed at herself in a surprised manner. “I am instigating a change in him? He forgets everything if I get out of the game and then remember again if I go back in?”

“A deep connection. The more you feel, the more intriguing and dear is something or someone to you,” she clarified her hypothesis. “You must remember your effect on the people of this world. Your presence can be sensed by every single individual here. You are the creator. A powerful figure, more than us Archons. We are not fully aware of the influence of each of your actions. And I forewarned you of my inability to help you in such dangerous cases. What I see is total blackness; you are not part of this world. That’s why you have to be careful not to ruin the balance of Teyvat more than Dottore and Wanderer have discovered. Do it for the sake of all of us.”

Clara let out a sigh, and nodded.

Her voice was sweet and gentle, but the weight of the words spoken was not light.

The things that were taking form in this game were not supposed to occur. Having real interactions with people here was not an expected possibility, because it was a game.

A game that she herself had given shape to and was having huge success.

She was living in an era where technology was overdeveloped, it could very well be compared to a sci-fi movie. Time travel had been discovered, even flowing into parallel universes. Computers were no longer cumbersome but a small device that showed you in hologram what you wanted, like the keyboard and the mouse itself.

Being a video game producer, she had in mind a game that would bring back the old days, a gacha style of gaming that had gone out of fashion long centuries before, leaving only complete games to continue through time.

Thus, she had shared with her co-founders this idea of hers, which was accepted with some misgivings.

She did not have many expectations either, nevertheless people had liked it, taking her by surprise. Probably because this generation had never seen any, except in documentaries or such, and wanted to experience what it was like to live in an earlier era.

Some time after the game was released, she had thought of creating a more realistic alternative of it using VR headsets to engage even those who had felt no interest.

However, something had gone wrong, because she had experienced firsthand one of the scenes she had intended to include in the game that was still far from being added: the Tatarasuna Mistery. In which a mysterious disease had infected, killed many locals and scarred Hikaru to the core.

She hadn’t been an exception.

The crying, suffering, screams, desperation.

It had been too much to watch and had nearly given her a panic attack.

And she had done the only thing she believed was right: use her VR headset to get out of there. When she did, she was wearing the clothes of that world and had some small wounds on her feet from running on the ground barefoot in terror.

It was then that she realized she had created a parallel universe of that game. The game codes had been mixed up and incorporated by the three-dimensional-capable machine she had used as a technical test, bringing to life the scenarios that were still being designed.

This discovery was too dangerous to share; in fact, they decided never to talk about it again. The fright and concern her co-founders had felt after seeing her in that state had been enough to agree to keep quiet about the matter.

Unfortunately, a problem occurred when an event came out further on, in which Scaramouche, the sixth fatui harbinger, made his first appearance.

Some of the scenes were not what they were supposed to be. They had changed. Scaramouche should not have said that the sky was fake, a hoax. But they had let it go; it gave a sense of mystery and decided to go with the flow.

After that, Il Dottore said the same words. It was not a simple concidence. Her game had a reality on its own and was writing its own story. Even their employees were beginning to detect strange things.

She wanted to solve the issue, but she did not know whether destroying that universe would bring consequences in the game and be discovered by the S.T.C.C.O., the Spatio-Temporal Continuum Control Organization.

Wandering between worlds must be authorized by them to prevent ill-intentioned people from changing parts of history for selfish purposes, and if they did not show permission they could shut the company down.

Risking a life of progress was out of the question, consequently the only option was to look for a foothold in that same world and figure out how to fix it against the disagreement of her co-founder friends.

The only way she believed possible was to ask for help from the one who had wisdom and knowledge on her side, The Dendro Archon Lesser Lord Kusanali.

She smiled. Kind, welcoming. And a small movement of her head in a reverent greeting.

“Welcome, outsider.”

She was petrified of Nahida’s awareness of her. It showed her skill as the ruler of a region, but it was all the same frightening how her identity could be so easily discovered.

She found out later that not everyone could do that, only the archons, so she had breathed a sigh of relief, hoping, however, that she would not one day end up buried alive for all the pain they had felt because of her.

Her explanation of the events, where she came from and who she was, had left Nahida speechless. She had understood she was a foreigner, but not the significance of her presence there.

Everything about the young woman had some kind of wall blocking any outside access, and the reason she could not was precisely her provenance.

The Dendro Archon had then taken her to Hikaru while he was still Scaramouche, and the sight of him lying unconscious after the battle with the traveler had made quite an impression on her.

Everything here was real; you could talk to them, joke with them, touch them.

Remorse had made its way into her, and unconsciously she had approached and reassured him of his rebirth.

He was now Hikaru, the Wanderer.

She still had to find out what made him think everything was fake before releasing another region and archon quests, though it was proving quite difficult to do so.

She just had to try several times in different ways until he gave in.

That was why she had asked Nahida to send him on a trip and have them meet in the least forced way.

It would have taken her longer, but since in this universe time seemed to pass as it did in his game and unlike his world, she didn't mind.

The same could not be said of her indecision about whether or not to knock on the door of the room where Hikaru had decided to rest.

She could feel tension in the air. It was strange. And… intimidating.

Especially after talking to Nahida.

“Are you coming in or not? Don’t have any hands to open the door?”

She almost let out a scream at this sudden voice, a hand on her chest.

The way both of them made her almost die of a heart attack from a fright was really impressive.

Opening the door slightly, she let only her head pop out, almost shy, "I just wanted to know if you're feeling better."

“What do you think?” He articulated sharply, not even glancing at her.

“Well…” She entered the room, walking towards the bed where he was sitting and standing a short distance from him, “Is it a headache? Do you want me to fetch some medicine?”

“It’s not necessary. It will go away on its own.”

“Oh, good.”

Silence built between them.

Perhaps it had not been a good idea to visit him now, he was definitely not in the mood for small talk or anything else ― as he always was ― but she could not leave him alone.

“What’s your purpose here?”

After the initial moment of stupor, with a blink of her eyes, she could only say, “What?”

He looked at her, and almost took a step back because of how dull his eyes were.

“Sumeru probably has something to do with your traveling. What is it that you’re looking for?”

That was totally unexpected.

She thought she would have to work her way up to simply have a reply from him without creating suspicions. Even though it didn’t look like there wasn’t any from his intense gaze.

“Answers.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slight hint of amusement in his hollow eyes at her short response, “Answers. To what? The bright star high in the sky and the feeling of being controlled?”

He was definitely mocking her and the metaphor she used to express her opinion.

“Precisely that one.” She tilted her head to the side, “What do you think about it?”

“Everyone is controlled by someone one way or another. Willingly or unwillingly.”

“That makes sense. But how are you aware of that control? What signs do you see to come to that conclusion?”

“I don't know. Your instincts?”

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again, sighing slightly.

It was too good to be true. It was Hikaru they were talking about. The personality could not change.

She had a pang in her heart. She had given him that personality, like every character in the game. She had caused trauma and tragic experiences.

And that struck even deeper.

Everything in the palm of her hand, but as soon as something was out of control she wanted to fix it right away.

It was also a logical consequence of her work environment; she could leave nothing to chance.

The guilt still consumed her from the inside.

She realized only now how they had remained silent and with their eyes on each other.

He seemed to want to peer deep into her. To look for behavioral changes, for a weakness, to give certainty to doubts.

Or perhaps she was influenced by her own guilt.

It was suffocating.

Her hand moved, slowly, giving the puppet the choice to shrug it off, but he did not. It rested on his head and began to gently caress it.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a faint whisper, but a strange glint flashed through his eyes at it.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, just… I’m sorry.”

It had been spontaneous. She wanted to tell him, even though he did not understand the act.

And again, the same gaze as a few moments ago was on her. This time it was less oppressive and more… soft.

He reached for the arm of her hand still on his head and put it down, before pulling her close to him and resting his head on her stomach. His arms wrapping around her waist.

The word astonishment did not fully describe how she felt about this gesture.

It was completely out of character. Nonetheless, she had to remind herself that he was no longer a mere character in a game and that anyone who got an aloof, arrogant and conceited attitude could fall apart.

As a result, she encircled his head with her arms, attempting to convey comfort and reassurance.

She felt his grip on her waist tighten slightly, but was completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him… and the sudden change in his eyes hidden from her sight.

Thus, when he was standing at her heels the following days, it had her somewhat confused.

Scratch that. It was really confusing how calm and kind he had become to her.

It was likely due to that moment they shared together a few nights before, but the shift was…

Well, at least he had not completely changed; that would have been unsettling.

But she did not expect that he would even lie beside her on the grass, on a small slanted ledge of a hill, to watch the sunset together.

A bird flew in front of her and, following it with her eyes, she saw how it landed on Hikaru's head.

He sighed but did nothing to get it off.

It wasn't the first time this had happened; even if he tried to make it leave, he wouldn't succeed like he did with the others, and that made her laugh.

“They love you, huh?”

He didn't look at her, “Shut up.”

 “Never.”

He raised his hand, ready to make her fly faster than a bird, but she surrendered by shaking hers.

“Oh, my! You should calm your horses! There's beautiful nature here contributing to a breathtaking view and you want to sweep it away? That's so cruel!”

“I eliminate possible contamination.”

She blinked, “Wait. Me?”

With his eyes now on her, he cocked an eyebrow matter-of-factly, “Who else? The bird? Is your brain a decoration by any chance?”

She snorted, sitting down on the grass, “Then you should avoid associating with a person who has her brain as a decoration. That way you can avoid becoming dumb yourself.”

She was about to get up, but Hikaru's hand putting her back down blocked her from doing so.

And without saying anything, she smiled, bringing her arms under her head again and closing her eyes. A slight smile took up the young man's lips; she would not find out though, for it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

And after he did not know how long, heavy breathing of a sleeping person could be heard instead, and when he looked to his left, Clara was completely in dreamland.

Hikaru let out a small snort of disbelief at the scene.

The sound of stepping on grass behind him caught his attention.

“You like her company now, don't you?”

He sat up, watching the bird finally fly away, “She is bearable.”

Nahida giggled, “So bearable to follow her around, right?”

He reimaned silent as he got up and brushed off his clothes from the dirt, but didn't miss to give her a side-eye.

The little Dendro Archon observed as a small wind began to rise with a movement of his hand, lifting Clara into the air and carrying her directly into his arms; one below the crook of her knees and the other wrapping around her back. Her head drooping before resting on his chest.

With a nod toward her as a sign of goodbye, he jumped up into the air and flew away, leaving her alone.

Along with her worries.

She sighed slightly, “Seriously, I hope nothing happens.”

It could not be said that something was not wrong, as doubts had crept into Hikaru's mind anyway.

Such an answer as Clara's would have pleased no one; it was too vague.

That was why he had changed his attitude a bit, to get more informations.

Laying her on her bed, he took the bag off her shoulder without waking her and sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze drawn as always to her face.

He had a gut feeling of her being involved in those chaotic and confusing fragments of situations he was recalling, although there was a certain confidence ― which by now had wavered ― that he had never experienced them.

Getting closer was the best method to piece together those called fragments, but the more he did, the harder it was to detach and stay focused.

She was the one distracting him.

A few strands of her hair had fallen across her face, and his hand reached out to move them aside. After that he heaved a sigh, realizing that he had been staring at her for he did not know how long before he recovered from that strange state of daze.

He was definitely losing his mind.

He stood up and walked over to the chair placed by the door to put Clara's bag, which he still had in his hand, on it.

Before he could open the door a sudden noise stopped him. It had echoed in his mind, like a jingle.

Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Another forgotten memory.

Looking behind him, he spotted the bag upturned on the ground with something out of it. It almost seemed to shimmer under the moonlight coming in through the open window.

And as soon as he took the fallen object in his hands his brows furrowed.

It was big, almost as big as half his head, and black. There was some kind of rope tied to the ends of it and eyes in the center of that small bizarre thing.

He recalled Clara’s exaggerated care for her bag, figuring now that it was most likely for this item and its possible fragility.

The more he stared at it, the more there was something tickling his mind.

And it turned into a deafening ringing that caused him to blink several times before he heard a muffled voice and saw blurred images of that same object and a young woman showing how to use it.

“Bring this to the back of your head, then this to the front.”

Like a puppet, he led that rope behind his head and the large part in front of his eyes. It fit like a glove.

“And press the button on the left side.”

He skimmed lightly for a prominent spot until he found it.

Through that device, a spiral of colors appeared before his eyes as the ground beneath his feet seemed to disappear into thin air before he felt it again.

Now he could only see white, and he quickly took that thing off, finding himself in a completely white and empy small room. A sliding metal door opened ahead of him and he hesitantly stepped out.

What he saw left him totally shocked.

There were pictures and drawings of a lot of people posted on the walls, but the ones he recognized immediately were Lesser Lord Kusanali, the Raiden Shogun, the traveler, their fellow flying being.

And himself. In all his forms.

To his left was a chair that had small wheels instead of feet and a kind of desk with another strange invention on it; there were almost transparent windows in which one showed a picture of flowers and writing in a small square while the other showed letters and symbols.

They were not part of the alphabet of the Teyvat language, so he could not tell which letters they were.

Next to them was yet another one with an almost mouse-like shape.

Attracted, he tried to press the arrow symbol pointing to the left located in the middle of that rectangular window, and a female voice suddenly boomed in the room.

She had used a welcoming tone, however, he did not understand what she had said except for a few words.

Xu Shi Han.

He was sure it was a name.

It was then that his gaze landed on a frame. A picture frame where Clara was smiling together with other people.

What was a picture of her doing here? Was he going insane?

Where the heck was he?

Raising his head, he looked out of that large window that gave a view of huge, long, light-filled buildings and the dark sky.

This made him come to a realization.

He was in another world.

He looked at the picture frame again.

Clara’s world.

She had gotten to Teyvat with that same machine that had taken him here.

He clutches on it still in his hand, overwhelmed by that discovery.

Then who was Xu Shi Han? A friend of hers? A workmate? Both?

Or was this all a hallucination?

Sudden sequences occupied his mind, almost causing him to lose his balance and grunt from the incessant pounding in his head.

He cast a glance at the device in his hand and decided to go back and ask the young woman for an explanation.

It was better to be direct this time, she might even have a solution for those headaches and disconnected memories.

It was beginning to irritate him.

However, as soon as he entered that white room again, put the object on and pressed the button, he had to grit his teeth and hold his head.

It felt like it was being hammered. Repeatedly and relentlessly.

A searing burning melting his brain until it reached his legs, which gave way under the weight of the pain.

There were voices.

It was unbearable!

Voices. Images.

He wanted it to stop!

Giggles. Cries. Screams.

Stop! Enough! No!

Please!

He inhaled deeply and his eyes were drawn to someone standing in front of him with their back to him.

Trees, plants and bushes began to dip into scenery.

Tilting his head to the side, curiosity crept in at the sight of that person dressed in clothes he had never seen before.

She had also removed something black and large from her head and was looking around. He could only see half of her face but wonder and excitement were visible on it despite standing slightly away from him.

Adjusting the basket full of harvested fruit on his hip, he moved a foot forward but found a small tree branch under it, alerting the young woman who spun around at the noise.

It was like being struck by a lightining. She was really beautiful.

“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” he exclaimed in a soft voice, shaking his head. Confusion was visible in her features, and his fingers began to play with part of the rim of the basket, feeling shy, “Are you lost, by any chance?”

She let out a sigh, “I… think so. Am I on a island?”

Even her voice was melodious.

“You are. Kannazuka, more specifically in Tatarasuna.”

He saw her eyes widen and look at him intently, almost as if she wanted to see through him.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Kabukimono, pleased to meet you!” he smiled, enthusiastic about making new acquaintances. “And you are?”

She seemed to have relaxed a little, smiling back at him, “Shi Han. The pleasure is all mine, Kabukimono.”

Technically it was not a lie, yet she was puzzled by the situation because it was not supposed to start that way.

Had she gotten the main settings wrong? A reversed scenario loading? She recalled checking several times before putting the machine into operation.

Glancing one more time at the trees, the bushes, with the chirping of the birds around and the sound of their shoes against the ground, the feeling of experiencing such a realistic sensory stimulus never ceased to charm her.

Her gaze fell on the puppet leading the way to the village after telling her that she could stay with them as long as she wanted. The shy but lively way he interacted with her turned the corner of her lips upward.

“We’re here!” he informed her, quickening his pace.

Chatter and laughter reached her ears, and she stepped out of the way in time to avoid being bumped by two children chasing each other.

She followed Kabukimono with her eyes as he walked over to this familiar young man with a red lock of hair to show him the basket of fruits, being repaid with a smile and probably words of praise.

After that, his attention switched to her, thus bringing the other to look at her as well, and she decided to approach for introductions. She then understood why he looked familiar; he was Niwa Hisahide, the one she would blame for the island tragedy in the game.

They appeared like real people. Having them face her really did have a strange effect.

She certainly could not say that they were fictitious characters and was trying out the game in virtual reality to attract more players, so she had opted for a simpler and quite believable explanation: she was traveling but had gotten lost and her possessions had been stolen.

She had also immediately found a bag to put her VR headset in to avoid curious questions.

Kabukimono had already thrown a quizzical look at it, which was not supposed to happen, since it was not meant to be exposed to the eyes of the characters.

Even if there were inventions here, explaining the use of a VR headset could have involved complications in the game which she was not inclined to have.

Everything had to go smoothly, and her intent had been achieved.

She wore the local clothes, got along well with the villagers, and helped with whatever errands were available.

Still, Kabukimono's reluctant behavior around her had not escaped her notice.

Conversations were brief ― almost nonexistent ― and he would run off, yet he had been so friendly during the first meeting.

These interactions were odd; she did not remember including them as options. Actually, nothing was as she recollected setting them up.

As he was now with the elderly women who spoke to him as he smiled and listened eagerly.

“Don't worry. He had these reactions with us at first too,” Niwa's voice caught her attention as the young man walked up beside her with a hand on his hip. "He just needs some time, you'll see how he won't pull away again."

"But it's been days," she sighed. "And I'm not doing who knows what action to deserve this attitude again. I'm approaching in a gentle way."

He hummed thoughfully, “You are right about that. But... it may be that you are different.”

“Different?”

He smiled, “Sometimes we have different impressions of some people. Honestly speaking, yours leaves its mark, Shi Han. You release positive energy that relaxes and makes one feel at home. Apparently, your energy has a powerful effect on him and that makes him shy and clumsy.” Niwa chuckled at the dumbfounded face she had while he was talking, and shoved the sheath with the sword inside into her hands. “Now take this and hand it to him. He lost his previous sword and had asked me to forge another.”

Awakening from her initial astonishment, she tried to speak but he was already on his way.

So she huffed out a laugh and the only thing she said to him was a "thank you!" to which he responded with a shake of his hand.

She hadn't really noticed that he had a sword in his other hand, caught up as she was in the Kabukimono dilemma.

Niwa's confession had left her speechless. So much for the fictional character!

If they had told her that she would hear such a thing from a nonexistent person, she would have laughed in their faces.

Glancing at Kabukimono, she caught him staring at her before returning his eyes to the women who were walking away after the talk ended. She almost chuckled as she walked toward him to fulfill her errand.

“Hi. Here, from Niwa,” she spoke kindly, showing him the weapon he then took from her hands. 

“Thank you,” it was almost a whisper.

“I heard you practice sword dance. It must be difficult.”

“Not very.”

“You put in a lot of effort, though”, she smiled. “This is not to be underestimated. Although I have never seen you dance, I know enough about this.”

He had not responded, he just looked at her. She seriously believed that she was hated at this point and that Niwa's words were just to reassure her.

"Would you like to... watch me?"

That caught her off guard, but she widened her smile, "I would love to!"

She hadn't really expected that! It was a really huge leap of progress!

It certainly had not been easy to ask her to see him dance, but she was really happy about it. And now that she was witnessing that dance, to say that he was talented was an understatement!

The smooth and accurate movements, the relaxed facial features, and the passion-filled eyes with which he performed the poses was nothing short of mesmerizing.

As a backdrop, the trees, the river and the light wind that had risen made it almost magical.

She couldn’t stop looking at him.

He was so immersed in it that he seemed to have forgotten her presence after ending his dance, so she applauded him, catching his attention.

"That was... magnificent. I don't know what else to say.”

His eyes drifted to the sword, playing with its hilt, “I’m honored to be complimented.”

Shi Han was completely taken hostage by the tenderness he had awakened in her, and without thinking about it she had mussed his long hair in an affectionate gesture.

Kabukimono had only blinked in surprise.

"Oh, forgive me!" she pulled away, raising her hands in surrender. "You were so sweet that I moved unintentionally. Please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? I would never!” he quickly shook his head, almost offended by that.

“Oh. I thought… you hated me.”

“Never! I’m just…” now he looked anywhere but at her, what was probably embarrassment invading him. “You are so beautiful and kind…”

She would have had an explosion of diabetes if he had not stopped!

How in the heck was he so, so sweet? He was a precious cinnamon roll!

“So it is not a disturbance if I request to see your dance again?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s a relief then. And… thank you for your compliments.”

The response she received was sparkling eyes and a toothy smile.

And the following days Kabukimono had left all shyness behind and kept staying close to her like a child trailing after his mother.

He would smile constantly, seek advice on even the smallest things, ask to pick fruits or just go for a walk together.

A total different character.

You could not look at him and not think of protecting him from any danger.

To think that he would change his personality after that tragic event that he would soon have to endure was really a shame, yet the story had to have footholds to continue.

Every action and reaction was calculated and giving them drastic plot changes could have consisted of inconsistencies in moving forward.

Messing up was not an option.

She was going to enjoy the course of events without a hitch.

And watching Kabukimono had become her favorite pastime; he was so adorable and innocent. Like now as he placed the firewood under the cauldron.

Surely he had noticed her fixed gaze on him, for she could see him playing with the sleeves of his robe.

“Asahi is late.”

She chuckled, “He wants to do it himself, as small as he is it will take him a while. He wants to be useful, like you.”

“He shouldn't tire himself though, since he's not very well.”

“I know, but let him do it. It's really cute to see him so hard-working.”

Asahi, the sick child who would add to Kabukimono's suffering when he would pass away.

He was already ill, that tragedy would take place sooner than later.

Another detail she did not remember at all was his name, because she had not given him one. He was just supposed to be an addition for the character that would become Scaramouche.

But if she dug her heels in over everything, she would start to get headaches, so it was best not to question and just comply.

“Water is here!” the small enthusiastic voice of Asahi caught their attention and they saw him almost trip and tip over the bucket full of water.

“That's too much water, Asahi!” Shi Han burst out laughing, helping him move closer to the fire.

“We still need it!”

“Yes, yes. Pour it slowly or you'll ruin the firewood.”

The teasing, the smiles, the chattering, the caresses. These heart-warming interactions had always fascinated Kabukimono.

Every human feeling and emotion captivated him.

There was something mysterious and inexplicable about the way they worked and manifested themselves.

However, the one who attracted him like a moth to a candle was Shi Han.

The manifestation of her emotions was a subtle but strong trait; the change of them could be sudden or slow.

He often found himself staring at her more than he should, completely invaded by a strange feeling that a puppet should not experience.

He had no heart; it was impossible.

Could it perhaps have been her aura? It was not to be ruled out. The villagers also felt at ease with her and almost considered her family.

“Is something wrong?” Shi Han's gentle voice and her face so close to his made him pull back a little from the sudden entry into his view. “I called you several times. Do you feel strange?”

“Oh, no. It’s just… You seem to feel so much happiness…”

“Are you not happy?” Asahi asked confused.

“I could, if I didn’t have…” Unconsciously, his hand went to his chest. “… a void here.”

“You mean, you wish you had a heart?” He nodded and heard Shi Han sigh, sitting next to him. “Mmh, have you ever heard this story before?” the question gained their attention as the child placed the bowl of food on the floor, “There once was a puppet soldier whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever. But the soldier didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feeling came from. One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina.” He smiled, ”The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”

He exhaled, sadness filling his voice, “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart, but that’s not a real heart.”

“Maybe. But what if…” He tilted his head to the side, “… hearts can be born from ashes?”

That would have changed things, but he was not sure.

“You don’t need a heart,” Shi Han spoke, grabbing his hand and slight sparks orerran his body. “The fact that you worry about being empty and that you might not reciprocate in the same way shows that you feel something.” A tender smile played on her lips, eyes looking at him with affection, “You are able to express emotions without it. You are more human that most people. Am I right, Asahi?”

“She is!” he had almost shouted it while nodding firmly.

Her face lit up, as if he had remembered something, “Oh! Asahi! Your handmade gift!”

The child made the same expression, got up and ran to a wooden box, pulling out a doll.

Kabukimono was quite confused.

After the child had gotten closer, he noticed the details of the object better. It was him. Its hair and clothing were the same as his, and it had what looked like a small tear under its eye.

“I'm aware that it didn't turn out that well, but I still wanted to give you a gift.”

He was at loss of words. He had a knot in his throat and his eyes were stinging.

He grabbed the doll and stared at it, a smile forming on his lips.

“Look, you’re smiling,” Shi Han rubbed his shoulder in a comforting way. “You’re happy, Mono.”

“Mono?”

She sucked the air through her teeth before grinning, “Kabukimono is too long. Mono is better.”

He smiled back, feeling shy again but with a tingling sensation.

He heard Asahi giggling, but a coughing fit struck him, bringing Shi Han to stroke his back and him to look at him worriedly.

“Everything is fine, just coughing.”

“You should still get back into bed. I’ll accompany you.”

He followed them with his gaze until they vanished into the other room and went back with his eyes on the doll. He touched its hair, its trim and stitching.

A gift made with affection.

A goal he did not think he could achieve. He thought people would not consider him; lacking a heart he might not feel empathy, or understand certain actions dictated by certain feelings. Consequently, causing estrangements on their part.

Yet they were friendly, loving, and hospitable. They treated him like a son, an older or younger brother, a friend. He felt loved and always wanted to be loved.

And very much loved by Shi Han.

It had become a permanent fixture. He did not want to do anything that could lead her to be bothered by his presence; he wanted to be praised.

More and more.

She had become the first person he spoke to as soon as the sun came out. A strong force continually pushed him toward her. And he did not mind.

Just being near her gave him warmth and love. He could sense it.

Like now, as the sound of the flowing river was heard, sitting at its bank and looking at the night sky.

It was better to say that he was watching her admire the stars.

“I love this view. I've never seen so many stars light up the night.”

“Where you come from there aren't many?”

She shook her head, “No. Let's just say they've… dimmed over time.”

“You will see them often by staying here then.”

She had opened her mouth, but had not spoken. This jolted him slightly and he began to feel a squeeze in his chest at that nonverbal response.

“Are you… leaving?”

Shi Han had definitely noticed the sudden change in mood, because she was hesitating, but she eventually nodded.

“I’m traveling, so… I’m moving all the time.” He turned his head to the other side and pulled his knees to his chest. “I also have to stay with my family. They definitely miss me. But this doesn’t me- wait, what’s wrong? Are you crying?”

Hearing her concerned voice gave him a sense of victory.

First she would sneak in and then decide to leave without thinking about what she had left behind? Without thinking about how he would feel? Was she really going to leave him? Why?

He didn't want to!

Her hand moved his shoulder slightly so she could look at him, but he resisted. He heard her calling him, but he did not answer.

He felt betrayed.

“Mono, please, listen to me!”

“I am.”

“You aren’t. You didn't hear a word I said because you’re still like this.”

He stood up abruptly and looked at her, taking steps back before halting and showing her bag in his hand.

Shi Han had widened her eyes, taken aback and confused by his action.

“Speak the truth. It has to do with that object you always carry in here with you, doesn't it? The way you take care of that thing has always intrigued me. You never show it to anyone, you keep it hidden and you seem obsessed with it.”

She let out a long sigh with her eyes closed, sensing the situation getting out of hand.

She was probably thinking that she would never have thought of such an overreaction on his part and that she didn't even know how they had gotten to this point.

He didn't know either. All he knew was that a trigger had been set off.

“It is because it’s an important object for me. It has an emotional value. It’s a gift.” She explained in a soft voice and stretched out her hands, “Come here, I’ll show you.”

He kept looking at her, stalling for a while until he gave up.

Shi Han reached into the bag and pulled out the object.

"Bring this behind your head," she had lifted that thing above her head and brought with one hand what looked like a strange rope behind it. “Then this to the front,” the large part went in front of her eyes. “And press the button on the left side,” her finger stayed on that specified spot but didn’t press down. “That’s it. But since I break a lot of things, and you know that, I don't use it much to avoid breaking it.” She took it off and smiled at him before putting that thing back in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Sorry if I startled you. I was going to talk to everybody about it these days. And I was telling you earlier that I would come back to visit anyway, and we may as well write to each other.”

He lowered his head, distress overtaking him.

Of course there were these options, but they were not like having her by his side all the time.

It was different.

“But I will not see you every day.” his voice had come out hoarse, as if he were tearing up.

“You can travel with me. And we can take Asahi with us, too. If you want, we can ask Niwa as well. I don't know if he would agree to travel, but it doesn't hurt to try.” He raised his head, stunned by the proposal. Shi Han cupped his cheeks, her fingers wiping away tears he did not know were coming out, “There, there, stop crying. Have you calmed down? Do you like my idea? No more sadness?”

He nodded, inhaling a deep breath to cool down.

This myriad of emotions were making him dizzy. And what she did next almost caused him to lose strength in his legs.

She giggled, tousled his hair and rested her lips on his forehead. After that, she hugged him. His face leaning against the crook of her neck, warm and soft skin touching.

“You’re such a good boy.”

Her fingers run through his hair, stroking gently and slowly.

He couldn’t think straight. He was over the moon.

He hugged back, tightening his grip as much as he could without hurting her.

It was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, comfort and fondness. Safe from any danger, feeling special, and have no negative thoughts.

She was the last piece to complete his wish.

Like it was your home.

It felt like home.

He had attained peace. A feeling so wonderful that he wished it would last for eternity.

But against his every thought and will, that newly completed paradise was gone.

Black smoke had begun to surround them, and the villagers began to get sick. They were getting worse and worse, and no one knew how the heck to stop the disease.

And they were dying. They were dying and dying one by one. A chain reaction that had spread terror and despair. And the helplessness about the situation didn’t help.

Hence, he decided to ask for help from the one who had created him, the Electro Archon herself.

He did not want to leave Shi Han, Asahi and Niwa alone, but he had to do something.

When he arrived in Inazuma, no one would let him in to have an audience with the Archon. With tears in his eyes and desperation clouding his senses, he did not for a single moment stop asking about his creator, displaying the golden feather around his neck, left by her in his hands.

Even though Yae Miko appeared in Ei's place, he begged to save the villagers, on his knees, his hands grasping her clothes. Shepromised help, and he believed her.

After returning to Tatarasuna, he saw Shi Han standing outside the house in the distance.

“Shi Han! The shogunate will come here! Let’s inform Niwa and-“

Now close by, he could notice Shi Han's dull eyes and bare feet. A bad omen took hold of him and he ran toward Asahi's bedroom.

When he saw him, Asahi seemed to be asleep.

Deeply asleep.

He had a lump in his throat, his hands began to shake.

That was a joke, wasn’t it? Asahi was definitely joking. It was not the best moment to do that, but he was playing around.

For sure.

“Asahi, it’s not good time to play. You need to wake up. The… The shogunate is coming and…”

One touch and he suddenly pulled his hand away, as if electrocuted.

Asahi was cold to the touch. Too cold.

No. No! No! No! Please, no!

Why? Why was all this happening? What had they done wrong to undergo such a thing?

The child’s words crossed his mind and he smiled through the tears.

He was here. Asahi was still here. His heart was still here.

And without a second thought, the flames enveloped both him and the house. He waited, waited until he could see it, but there was nothing there.

No heart from the ashes but anger and sadness made an appearance.

He clenched his hands into fists, tears that would not stop falling, “How dare you die like this, and break your promise to me?” He sneered, “What a joke… It’s just ashes, nothing left but ashes.”

He lifted his head up, a deep sigh leaving him. He stayed like that for a while before walking out.

He still had his Shi Han. He needed her hugs and sweet words.

He needer her.

However, he did not expect to see her with that black object on her head, her hands still on each side of it.

Hesitantly, he spoke, “Shi Han?”

Their eyes met, and what hers conveyed made him even more desperate.

“What… are you doing?”

Shi Han gulped, lips quivering and voice shaking, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

It was too much.

Tragedy was to come, but she did not imagine it so suddenly. She had not even had time to breathe. It was all going too fast, and witnessing it firsthand had never been in her plans. To see the life of someone you spend time with vanish before her eyes without being able to do anything to stop it was the most deplorable torture there was.

Waking up from the catatonic state with the smell of smoke from the flames Kabukimono had started burning the house in which she had memories was another pain.

She could not take it.

It was all too realistic; she did not even believe she was in her own game anymore. Maybe she was and there had been mistakes during the data transfer.

She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to get the fuck out.

If she had entered in the game with the VR, she could as well come out of it.

Fear was dominating her and she didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody else. She couldn’t.

She was doing what was right for her sanity. And she also felt so bad for that.

“What are you saying? I… I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Wait, wait! What do you mean? What are you trying to say? Where are you going? Where-“

Adjusting her VR, she pressed the button and everything was reduced into a spiral of colors. Seeing the familiar white room again, she collapsed on the floor, relief taking over her senses. Hearing her friends' and co-fonders’ voice put a definite end to that long moment.

But for Kabukomono had been an istant. A light and then nothing. She was gone.

His Shi Han was gone.

Where? Where had she gone? What had she done to make herself disappear? And why? So was it a lie? She did want to leave him?!

His head hammered incessantly, it felt like needles penetrating and pushing deep. His pupils constricted, a silent scream leaving his body, his hands clutching his head to try to stop the pain.

It hurt. It was unberable.

“Shi Han! Shi Han!” he sobbed. “Don’t go! Come back! Why are you doing this?! Please! Please, don’t leave me! Shi Han, please! Don’t leave me!”

Shi Han exhaled, almost running out of air. After regaining oxygen, she sat on the edge of the bed and a sigh of relief left her lips.

She was in her room, probably after she fell asleep and was brought in.

That was terrifying.

Dreaming of those events was not really something she expected. She had had nightmares after returning from here, but they had faded after a few months.

Guilt was kicking in again.

She needed a glass of fresh water for her dry throat.

Movements alerted her and she got up, spotting Hikaru under the moonbeams picking up her bag and placing it on the chair.

“Oh, it’s you. Was it you who brought me here?”

“Did you think it was someone else?”

“I… never thought you would do that,” she giggled. “but thank you.”

He just hummed, “Your bag fell and this thing slipped,” he lifted one of his hand to show her VR, the other one on his hip. “Nothing broken, you can rest assured.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Ah, thank God- Archons. It’s a precious item for me.”

She walked over, checking that nothing was really broken, and put it back in the bag, then holding the latter to herself and returning to the bed to place it on the nightstand.

She wanted to hit herself because she had almost made a stupid mistake. Here they were not thanking God but the Archons.

It had never happened before, but the air was imbued with something strange.

It was heavy, tense.

“Is something wrong? You look nervous, Shi Han.”

“Oh, it’s al-“

Her heart skipped a beat, turning pale. She turned around to look at him, searching for something in his eyes that suggested she had heard wrong.

She had certainly heard him wrong. A trick of her ears. He didn’t know her real name.

“What…?” it was almost inaudible and she saw him tilt his head to the side. “Oh, sorry, Hikaru. I thought- nothing, don’t worry,” she shook her head and gesticulated with her hands. “I really should sleep.”

“Hikaru was the best name you could have chosen. I really had an enlightenment in my life.” One step forward, one more, another, as he continued, “But giving it to me through the Traveler was not necessary. I would rather you had given it to me in person.”

He was there, close to her. Too close. She was petrified.

His irises seemed to glow in the dark. Threatening, smothering.

She did not know how or when, but she felt pressure on her arm, was pulled to the side, and the sound of something being broken echoed the room.

Her eyes settled on the nightstand, where her bag was no longer. Her lips began to tremble, her face to distort with fear, and her breathing became labored.

His foot was still on top of it, the VR inside shredded.

He knew. He knew her real name, about her.

Fuck! Fuck!

How was this possibile? How did he find out?! Did her presence really lead to this? She had been careful, avoiding anything that might spoil the plan. Really!

Realization kicked in and she stared at him, while his eyes had never left her and had watched her every facial change.

“You used my VR!”

“Is that what it is called? It is certainly a wonderful invention.” With his hand still holding her arm, he drew her to him, chests touching and faces a short distan apart. “It made me see your world. Our past.” She could feel his breath against her lips. “You don't know... how painful it was after you left me. Asahi, Niwa, you. I saw the darkness, and called your names. Yours especially.” His other arm went around her waist, pressing their bodies together as tightly as he could, ”I wanted your hugs, your caresses, your reassuring words. You were my support, my fixed thought. But after a while, I began to forget you, only you. Probably because you are connected to my world and can manipulate a few things. And I bet the stars and the sky are part of it, aren't they?”

She gulped, trying to push him away, but she couldn’t.

It was happening too fast, she couldn’t react. Her head was spinning, her pupils shaking.

“But I’m also aware of how what happened has worn you down. You tried to make things better, giving me a new rebirth.” He gave her a knowing lopsided smile, a sinister glint in his eyes, “Everything is okay, honey. Your suffering is coming to an end. You will be reborn with a new you. I promise.”

A flashback of her stroking his hair and humming a melody while he was in a coma popped into her mind. He had recited the same words she had said.

He had heard it all.

“I'm sure you didn't do it all by yourself. Someone helped you. But even knowing the current situation, Lesser Lord Kusanali did not act on it. I assume that no one can do anything if you are involved.” His hand left her arm, which fell dead weight, and moved towards her chin, cupping it, “Am I right, Clara?”

She coudn’t breathe.

Demanding, controlling, out of his mind.

“Am I right?”

She breathed out, “Yes.”

“It means no one can meddle between us. Is that correct again?”

“... Yes.”

His face lit up, a smile making her skin crawl.

He giggled, caressing her cheek. He placed his lips on her forehead, before cupping her cheeks and kissing her.

She was squeezing her eyes, paralyzed.

He nipped at her lip, causing her to flinch and taking advantage of this, he swept his tongue between her lips, tangling and tinkling their tongues together.   

He broke the kiss, staring at her with eyes filled with confirmed madness.

And hugged her. Her face against the crook of his neck.

“You’re such a good girl.”

The paradox was paralytic and finding a way out erased.

She realized that she had taken Nahida's words lightly.

But what could she have known? How could she have known that he would behave this way? These were not excuses! She could not have foreseen this!

But unconsciously she had believed that she would not arouse suspicion. Foolishly she had gotten too close.

And she had brought disaster with her.

Memories had surfaced that should not be there.

An unwanted insight into something that should not have been there.

He was so attached to her that his affection had transcended time and space, outclassing that betrayal and seeing the positive side of her redemption toward him that would also be projected onto her game, having a close connection between parallel and video game realities.

But she was the culprit. She had decided to test the waters by prolonging her stay in a place that was beginning to seem strange to her.

And she was paying the consequences. Willy-nilly.

[words-in-starless-skies]

Inspired by the promo: Captain Gerrard shows up at the ceremony. Tommy is not okay. Evan is worried - and angry. (Tw for homophobic language)

He’s here. 

He’s here, sitting on a chair, staring at them with barely hidden scorn and disgust and - 

Tommy feels lightheaded. The smile on his face freezes. His medal feels too heavy.

He stares at Captain Gerrard, a ghost from his past, and suddenly he’s scared again. He’s his anxious younger self, trying to hide a secret and playing a role he doesn’t want to play, just so he’s not going to be outcasted. Just so he’s not going to be completely alone again, because the Captain and his colleagues are the only people he has and -

Evan suddenly leans over to him and whispers, “Are you ok?”, his warm breath tickling Tommy’s neck.

Tommy flinches. Of course, his always-attentive boyfriend had to notice the change in his mood. “Yeah,” he says quickly, trying to pull that stony smile further up.

Evan frowns, raising a brow. He follows Tommy’s gaze, his frown deepening when he takes in Gerrard’s scowl. “You know that grumpy guy?”

Tommy swallows. Nope. He can’t do this. “I … I need fresh air.”

He flees. There’s no other word for it. He flees and everyone’s staring at him, probably wondering what has gotten into him. It’s a celebration after all and he’s behaving like an idiot. Too many eyes. They burn holes into his back and Tommy is relieved when he’s finally outside. He takes a few deep breaths and thinks about what he can say to the others …

Of course, though, the door opens and Evan steps outside, worry in his eyes. “You’re so not okay,” he states. “What’s going on, Tommy?”

He could say that he’s just feeling a bit nauseous. That he thinks he might have caught a cold or the flu. That he just has to go home and lay down for a while. But this is Evan. And he looks at Tommy with those wide open caring eyes. Tommy can’t lie to him.

“That grumpy guy? That’s Captain Gerrard. He was Captain of the 118 before Bobby. He … He was my Captain. And Howard’s and Hen’s. He’s a racist, misogynistic, homophobic asshole. As soon as Howard and Hen joined the station, he was harassing and belittling them all the time, trying to scare them away. He didn’t want them in our team. And I … I didn’t try to stop him. Quite the contrary. I played along. I was an asshole too. Because I was scared, Evan. I didn’t want to lose what I thought I had: a family. It wasn’t one. Not back then. But … it was all I had.”

Evan looks at him and the worry is slowly replaced by understanding and sadness. And … anger. “So that’s why he’s looking like that. He hates that Hen and Chim are getting medals.”

Tommy sighs. "Yeah. Guess so. And … he doesn’t know I’m gay. I didn’t dare to come out as long as he was Captain. He … liked me. He looked at me a certain way. He always said he was proud of me. And that I was one of the people he could trust. I was so stupid, drinking up his words like they meant something… Howard and Hen opened my eyes. I really admired Hen for being herself and for being proud and for standing up to those assholes. I … I filed some complaints about Gerrard.” He laughs bitterly. “A pathetic attempt to make amends, I guess. Anyway, I continued to be a coward. As long as he was there, I didn’t dare to come out.”

Evan swallows. “That must have been such a horrible time,” he says quietly. 

“It was,” Tommy says, shrugging. “But I gave other people a horrible time too. I was an idiot.”

“You changed,” Evan points out softly.

Too late , Tommy thinks. I should have done something sooner … Before he can say anything else though, the door opens again, and he freezes. Gerrard walks towards them, his expression grim as usual. He just shoots Evan a mildly interested look but invades Tommy’s space and pats his shoulder. “I’m glad to see you, son. I thought all that’s left here are diversity hires. And now they’re giving out medals to them like candy. This station managed to get even worse. Men like you really are our only hope now.”

Tommy grits his teeth. He can see a scowl forming on Evan’s face. Not this time, Tommy thinks. I have to stop being scared.

He takes a step backwards, away from his ghost.

Gerrard frowns, pulling his hand back.

“I’m really glad to see you too, Captain,” Tommy says coldly. “Because I wanted you to meet my boyfriend, Evan Buckley.”

And without further hesitation, he cups Evan’s face and pulls his boyfriend into a passionate kiss. He can feel Evan smiling into it and giving it all he got. He can also hear Gerrard gasp like he’s been shot. When they part, he looks at the Captain, who stands there, frozen and glaring, a hand curled into a fist. He seems at a loss for words.

Good, Tommy thinks grimly. “And I also wanted you to know that I put in the complaints about you. A lot of them.”

Gerrard snarls. “So all this time, you’ve been a fag. Should have known when I heard you whimpering and whining like a little girl in your sleep. They probably turned you in the army, when you were alone, crying for Mommy and reaching for any touch you could get, like the pathetic little princess you are, you -”

He doesn’t get any further.

Evan punches him straight in the face.

Gerrard goes down with a strangled cry. He bends over, holding his nose, blood dripping on the pavement. On his knees like that, he looks very small, Tommy thinks, wondering why he was so scared at all. Then he looks at Evan and his breath hitches. His boyfriend looks like a giant compared to Gerrard. His eyes are blazing and he’s baring his teeth. And, oh, Tommy feels a bit lightheaded again, because of an entirely different reason.

“You’re never going to talk to Tommy again,” Evan hisses, looking down at the gasping Captain, his hands curled into fists. “You’re going to stand up and go away, or I am going to call for Sergeant Grant. I’m going to tell her how you insulted my boyfriend. I’m going to tell her in front of everyone inside, so everyone’s gonna know what an asshole you are, you hear me?!”

Gerrard glares up at Evan and Tommy with open hatred in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He scrambles to get back on his feet, still holding on to his bleeding nose, then walks away fast.

Evan is still breathing heavily, his anger palpable in the air. But when he looks at Tommy, his eyes soften. “You’re okay?” “I’m really turned on right now,” Tommy admits. 

Evan grins, his hands uncurling. He cocks his head. “I fear we still have to endure a bit of celebration before we can go home. And cake.”

“Hm. I think I can suffer through that,” Tommy says, smiling. “As long as you are there too. You are aware that you just punched a Captain?" Evan shrugs. "I don't even care. That guy is anything but a Captain." He wraps his arms around Tommy. It’s one of those hearty Evan-hugs that make Tommy feel safe and loved in a way he hasn’t felt for many years. “I’m glad you stood up to him,” Evan says. “And we are going to make sure you never have to see him again. He has no right to be here. He has no right to talk to you or to Chim and Hen. He’s nothing. Just a ghost from the past, driven by hatred. He might want to, but he will never destroy our family or poison our happiness.”

Tommy feels the prick of tears. “Thank you, Evan,” he breathes. And he finds that he’s not scared anymore. He has a real family now. 

He’s loved.

Find it on AO3

[transmascaraa]

bf!cyno headcannons!

your "oh-so-funny" boyfriend wants to tell you every single joke he knows until you finally find at least one of them funny...

bf!cyno x gn!reader

authors note: this just came to mind randomly so like why not do it??? also tysm guys for so many likes/notes ily all sm😭💗

"so... did i finally make you laugh?"

-sitting together on the shared bed in your guys' bedroom. cyno made a bet with you.

-"if i can make you laugh with one of my jokes, i get to take up more space on the bed. deal?"

-"deal." you were so ready. so, so ready. you were sure you'd win cuz his jokes SUCK.

-and just like that, you two started.

-"why can't you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom?"

-"why." you were ready to make the blankest face everrr...

-"because the "p" is silent." he tried to say normally, but he ended up laughing really hard. and you just looked at him unfazed

-"that's more horrible, rather than funny." you had an annoyed expression on your face

-"b-but... h-how???" bro was so confused but saw that you didn't care.

-plan b is in action.

-"what did the triangle say to the circle?"

-"what."

-"you're pointless."

-"that's not funny, cy." you said as this bitch laughed his ass off

-soon enough, he calmed down, and started to say more jokes.

-none were funny to you.

-so many more jokes to which he died laughing, but your face expression was a mix of annoyance and confusion.

-finally, he thought of something. (i'm sorry if you don't find the joke funny but i did and you can just imagine another one if you don't feel the same lol)

-"why do cows wear bells?" he sounded so hopeful like his life depended on it. he needed more space on the bed.

-you sighed. not having any hope for him by now. just waiting for the answer

-"because their horns don't work." he chuckled, keeping back a huge laugh.

-you looked at him for a second, and then started laughing.

-no, like genuinely laughing.

-he looked at you shocked, but also confused. were you laughing at him, or the actual joke?

-"cy-cyno... that-... that was actually funny, i have to admit..." you were still giggling from the joke and he just smiled in pure bliss.

-he smiled like a kindergartener who got candy for halloween from the grumpy neighbor.

-"YES! I WIN!" he laughed proudly and started tickling you to make you laugh even more

-"cyno! fucking- idiot! hahah...!" you were laughing hard while trying to defend yourself by tickling him in return(sweet revenge)

-and like that, the two of you were laughing for a while more, and cyno felt like a king for the rest of the month.

-no, year.

-actually, for the rest of his life.

-he made you laugh.

-he made you laugh.

-he will remember the joke until the end of his life and always remind you that you, out of all people, laughed at one of his terrible jokes.

~~~~~

this was so fun to make i swear

i used the google for the jokes

i'm sorry if they're not funny but imagine that they are

thank you for reading :))

[mad4turtles]

Can I get some Uncle Tello- Baby/Toddler Casey Jones Jr bonding fluff? Their bond is just so cute and funny to me & I just keep thinking about Donatello "I don't like kids, but if anyone even breathes wrong in Casey Jr's direction I will not hesitate to take someone out" Hamato aka 'the grumpy, protective uncle who grows to love his nephew very much but would never willingly admit it outloud (especially to his twin. Too bad for him Leo most likely already knows. again. twins lol ). Cause I can imagine poor guy had a hard time coping with the fact that CJ can destroy anyone's "emotionally unavailable bad-boy" image with little effort if you give him the time. And Donnie learned the hard way 😂

I am SO sorry this took so long! This prompt is golden and I love it, here you go!

--

Donatello tolerates children. He doesn't hate them because, believe it or not, there is a difference between the two.

He understands from a logistical standpoint that children function differently from adults. They're still navigating the world, cry when a need isn't met, laugh when you tickle them or someone falls on their face, and put everything and anything within reach in their mouth to figure out what it is and if they can eat it. Most of the time, the answer is no. 

Donnie understands that, so he tolerates children. And as the world caves in and he's forced to intermingle with more humans and Yokai than he'll ever see (the numbers dwindle daily, but who's counting?), his tolerance builds. Though his position in the Resistance—Keeping Everyone Alive Under Six Feet of Earth and Limited Oxygen—keeps him cooped up in his lab and limits his interaction with people in general, on the odd days he's not locked in there with a sign that reads 'Keep Out or Get Bit', he'd say he does a decent job. Take that, autism.

It's on one of these odd days Cassandra Jones kicks the door of the mess hall down with enough force to send it flying, holds up a dirty bundle with a squirming thing inside and screeches. “I have acquired a child!”

And that was that.

Well, not really; there was a lot of screeching, demanding, explaining and even more frantic demanding involved. But Donnie barely remembers most of it. He'd been busy staring at the little pink face peeking out from the ragged cloth wrapped hastily around a tiny body, wondering how and why anyone would abandon him.

Logically, he knew why. Babies smell, they're defenceless, needy and loud. All recipes for disaster—death—in the alien apocalypse. Logically, he knew it was better to cut your losses and ditch, lighten the load, ease the burden and raise your chances of survival. 

Emotionally, irrationally, he wanted to find the blood mother and kill her himself.

Regardless, Cassandra had claimed him, named him—Casey Jones Jr, of course—and the Hamato's had a new family member. 

Cass was a mother, and Donnie was suddenly an uncle.

Cassandra, despite herself, is a great mother. She feeds, clothes, bathes and teaches Jr with the ferocity and vigour she's always had in spades but dipped in a new warmth and love Donnie never would have associated with her. It's unexpected, but Cass wouldn't be Cass if she weren't screwing Donnie's perception of reality in her every waking moment.

April and Raph dote on him something awful with baby voices and whatever toys they find or have donated to them by other understanding and indulgent parents. Mikey cries when he takes his first steps. Draxum gifts him a Yokai necklace made from dragon teeth and scales.

(“He can eat them once his feeble infant teeth fall out,” he explains while stoically cradling the giggling infant on one clawed palm, outwardly indifferent yet impossibly gentle. “They will harden his skin and strengthen his bones to iron. No Krang would dare stand in his way.”

“We are not,” April says, “feeding dragon teeth to my nephew, Draxum.”

“As his grandfather, I should have some say in his dietary requirements. Cassandra agrees with me!”

“I will bury you, Draxum,” April growls in a tone that promises unspeakable violence. “I will bury you deep.”

“... understood.”)

Leo lets him chew on his mask tails while rocking him to sleep. He also cries like a bitch when the little pink thing looks him in the eye, drool dribbling down his chin and his gummy smile miles and miles wide and says—“Weo!”

(Donnie thinks Splinter would have loved him just as much. Shared with him the stories and legacy of their clan, sang to him the same old Japanese lullabies, enthralled him with the tales of Lou Jitsu, everything he'd wanted to do should he ever become a grandfather.)

Donnie doesn't see Casey much. Not by choice, but he's a busy freaking turtle and one-year-olds are notoriously for being loud, distracting little things that Donnie cannot afford, now more than ever.

He knows their chances of winning the war are slim at best and impossible at worst. Hope can only take you so far, crazy mystic powers or not. They've already lost so much of their world. They've already lost Dad.

So Donnie needs to focus, work and keep working so they won't lose anyone else. Anything less than the best possible outcome is not a thread of logic he is willing to follow.

Then there's a knock at his door.

Without turning from his multiple screens, mystic or otherwise, Donnie grunts, “It had better be good—”

Cassandra bursts through the door, blazes across the room, dumps something on Donnie's lap—“HOLD THIS I WILL RETURN SHORTLY SHUT UP AND THANK YOU FAREWELL!”—and slams the door behind her on her way out.

Donnie sits bamboozled in his chair in the aftermath of her whirlwind. He stares at the scorch marks her feet left on the floor, the angle his door sits at after she'd slammed it near off its hinges—

“Ba!”

—and at the one-year-old pink thing she'd left to drool on his lap.

“Oh hell no, hell no—Cassandra Bernid Jones!” he hollers to no reply.

How in the shit could she do this to him?! Why in the shit?!

Junior giggles at Donnie's misery, kicking his bare feet madly and clapping damp hands. He must've had his fingers in his mouth. Joy.

“Cassandra, come back for your child or I will feed you to the nearest Krang Hound!” Donnie shouts. Unsurprisingly, his only answer is more of Junior's incessant giggling. Pudgy fingers reach for Donnie's face and Donnie lifts him higher, further away. Junior shrieks with joy.

Growling, Donnie activates the mechanical arms in his shell to carefully lift the child off his lap as he stands, holding him at a fair distance. The child is delighted by this and kicks harder, screaming with unbridled joy and having the time of his life. Donnie stares, fighting a scowl and a flinch because dear god how can something so small be so ungodly loud?

Donnie wants to smash something. Ironically, the indirect source of his ire keeps that desire at bay, but it doesn't stop him from grinding his teeth.

He's busy running updates on their freaking security system, the only thing keeping the Krang from finding them and killing everything that breathes. Cassandra knows this, everyone knows this, he'd sent them an email about it! So why, in the ever-loving shit, would Cassandra literally drop her child off with the one person who has a history of only tolerating children? Sure it's his adopted nephew, but he can only last so much in the presence of his own blood relatives for Christ—

He doesn't realize he's hissing, a low guttural thing rivalled only by Raphael at his angriest, until Junior stops laughing.

As much as they postured and played with fashion, aesthetics and trends as teenagers, Donnie and his brothers are mutants, and by (non-freaky)human standards, they are not conventionally 'pretty'. And according to many honest human comrades, April included, they can be downright unnerving sometimes. Mostly when they're pissed off, their animal roots seeping through the cracks of the humanity instilled in them by a loving father. They growl, hiss, click and roar, bearing their teeth and snarling like beasts. It's worse for Donnie and Raph, the carnivores of the family and most prone to biting; Raph's size doesn't help, and Donnie has easily frightened some of their biggest and strongest Yokai allies with a flash of fangs or a warning hiss.

It's not something he likes about himself these days. It never bothered him until they were forced to interact more and more with humans who had no qualms pointing shit like that out, even now with literal aliens prowling their ruined world. Still, he's learned to roll with it like he does with everything else.

But Casey Junior looks at him—his peeled lips revealing sharp fangs grit tight in a snarl and a hiss he can't curb fast enough—and he starts crying.

Oh shit.

“Oh shit,” Donnie says, flapping his hands, ire forgotten as panic takes over. “Oh shit, the child is crying and I am the cause. Cassandra will kill me, then Draxum will bring me back as a zombie so Raph can kill me again.”

What the hell does he do? Make funny faces? Pretend to trip over and fall flat on his snoot? Kids love physical comedy, pain is always funny! Or maybe he—or—oh who is he kidding, he's screwed. And the baby is still crying, kicking his feet and red in the face. Donnie lowers but doesn't touch him, biting his lip as his thoughts race. Not even five minutes and he's proven he cannot handle a child. How does Raph do this? How did Dad put up with this for seventeen years—

Oh wait, there's an idea. What did Dad do?

Trick question: Donnie knows exactly what Dad did when they were younger, and eight times out of ten it worked. The problem lies with Donnie and his intense aversion to all things stinky and gross and loud, all of which Casey Jr is.

But Donnie has seen and lived with worse even before the world went to shit. He lived with Leo and Mikey as his little brothers; they piss him off like it's their personal mission, but he loves them so fiercely it's painful. He'd look death in the eye and double-dog dare it to do its worst for them.

This is his baby nephew. He's not been around nearly as long but surely, surely, Donnie can get over himself for him, too.

(Even if he is a busy turtle working his ass off at the end of the world. But family is different. Family trumps everything.)

So Donnie swallows, takes a deep breath, takes Casey from the mechanical arms before dismissing them into his shell—“I'm doing it, I'm freaking doing it—” and pulls Casey into his arms, holding him tight against his chest.

The crying doesn't magically cease as Donnie had hoped, but it dies down into kitten-like sniffles that do—something to Donnie's heart, squeezing and twisting it in a way he hasn't felt since Mikey was this small, maybe smaller. Whatever it is, it compels him to cup the back of Casey's ebony head and press his (grossgrossgross) face into the exposed crook of Donnie's neck.

“Um... there there,” he says clumsily, patting Casey's back with his other hand. “Cease your crying. It's making my knees hurt and my chest do weird, fuzzy things I don't have time for.”

Casey turns his head at Donnie's voice, frighteningly alert. 

Hm.

With a claw from his battle shell, he pulls his purple hood up, shielding Casey from the neon glare of his computer screens and LED lights around the lab. 

“I apologize for scaring you,” he says a decibel softer. Casey turns his head again in response, still sniffling but significantly calmer. “I am angry, yes, but I am not angry at you. It was unfair of me to show my ire that way, especially in front of you, child who is easily frightened by loud noises and yet is scarily perceptive of the moods of the people around you...”

Casey lays his head against Donnie's shoulder, blinking up at him with big watery eyes. Donnie blinks back.

This is... not awful. It's progress. Progress is good. This is good.

He tears his gaze from Jr's—as deadly a weapon as Mikey's eyes for sure—and sways from side to side the way he used to do for Leo when they were young and scared. He hums a tune under his breath, one from that Ghibli movie about little people; he can't remember the film's name but the song at the end was cute and catchy as it was corny. Even years later, he remembers the words—

“I'm 14 years old, I am pretty. I'm a teen tiny girl, a little lady. I live under the kitchen floor. Right here, not so far from you.” 

The sniffles die off, Casey's pudgy fingers grasping Donnie's torn hood, tiny nose buried against cool scales. Donnie keeps going, softly rubbing Casey's back the way Dad would rub his shell during Donnie's worse days. The memory brings tears to his eyes, so he shuts them before they can fall.

“Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes I feel blue. In my dreams O I wish I could... Feel my hair blowing in the wind, see the sky and the summer rain, pick a flower from the garden for you. Beyond the lane there's another world, butterflies floating in the air. But is there someone out there for me?”

By the end, Donnie looks down to see Casey fast asleep, sucking his thumb and drooling on Donnie's shoulder. For a breathless moment that lasts an eternity, Donnie is spellbound, staring at the little pink thing—a biological miracle someone had so quickly discarded on the barren streets of a dying world, a little life that had persevered despite every odd stacked against it, Cassandra's son, Donnie's little infant nephew—he cradles in his arms. For the first time he doesn't care for the slimy drool coating his shoulder, the bacteria or anything his body and brain would outright reject.

Donnie stares at Casey Jones Jr and finally pins a name to the fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Oh.

“Oh,” he says. Jr snuffles in his sleep.

---

When Leo turns a corner to find Mikey, Raph, April and Cassandra huddled outside Donnie's lab doors, he almost turns around to avoid the oncoming storm of Donnie's short temper. The gossip in him wins out in the end as he squeezes between Raph and Cassandra to peer through the crack in the door.

What he sees has him gaping like a fish.

Donatello Hamato—the Resistance's resident genius and hermit—sits languidly at his desk surrounded by screens, one hand tapping away at holographic screens, breezing through emails. The other arm curls around a babbling Casey Jr, grubby hands clenched tight on one of Donnie's old rubber fidget toys as he gnaws on it like a dog with a bone.

“The shipment from Asia's remaining base in Hong Kong should be arriving at the port between noon and sixteen hundred hours tomorrow,” Donnie rambles, eyes scanning a long wall of encrypted mystic text.

“Ba!” Casey cries around the toy, kicking his legs.

Donnie nods with a hum, scratching his chin. “Yes, I agree. Krang activity has intensified alarmingly at the Old Port since the refugee extraction six months ago, but there's no time to plan a safer route...”

“Ba dee ba!” Casey blows a messy raspberry. Not missing a beat, a mechanical arm pops from Donnie's shell to wipe the baby's mouth with a cloth before discarding it.

“You're right, Jr. I suppose there's no helping the matter. We must brief the teams as soon as possible to discuss the matter, rally what factions we have at our disposal—”

“Eeeee!” Casey screeches before bursting into giggles.

Donnie brightens. “Of course! We could send the drones! They're stealthier and won't incur a needless massacre at the hands of psychopathic aliens. If anything, we shall be doing the massacring once I've outfitted the drones with my newest Genius Built trademark mystic weaponry! Excellent idea Casey Jones Jr, what would I do without your added brilliance.”

“Don-NEE!” Casey cries.

“Yes yes, I'll send the email and hopefully one of those dumb dumbs will actually read—wait, what did you say?” Donnie drops the screens and plucks Casey off his lap to stare him in the face with wide eyes. “Did—Did you just—did you just say—?”

“Don!” Casey giggles, wiggling in Donnie's grip. “Don don don don don! Don-NEE!”

Donnie stares and stares and stares. A stupidly happy grin splits his face in two. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” Mikey breathes with a matching grin.

“Would'ja look at that,” Raph chuckles, his smile a proud, fond thing.

“Knew he had it in him,” April nods.

“Which means Leonardo owes me fifty bucks!” Cassandra quietly whoops.

Tearing his eyes away from the horrendously cute picture of his twin and nephew, Leo aims a sly grin at Cassandra. “I would if we still used actual money as a source of income or trade.” Cassandra's grin drops like a stone, and Leo fights an evil cackle that would make Draxum proud. “Cash hasn't been a thing in years, Cassandra dear. Get dunked on.”

“Bite my ass, you di—!”

The door abruptly slides open the rest of the way and they tumble to the floor in a heap. Above them, Donatello stands unimpressed, brow raised and one hand on his hip. Curled in his other arm, Jr babbles happily and reaches for Cassandra.

“Evening all,” Donnie drones as they clambered guiltily to their feet. “To what do I owe this displeasure.”

“Nothing at all!” Cassandra said, shooting Leo a poisonous glare before opening her arms to receive her son. “Thank you for looking after my child, I will take him back now and relinquish you from your—”

“A-bub-bub-bub!” Donnie turns slightly, putting Jr out of her reach. “I have decided that Jr may stay a few hours longer while I run the regular diagnostics and schedule that meeting you no doubt heard about while you were unceremoniously eavesdropping at my still broken door—thank you for that Cassandra, by the way—he is no trouble presently and makes an excellent rubber duck to bounce ideas off. Don't you agree, Jr?”

Jr snaps his head up to beam at Donnie. “Ah!” he says. Donnie's impassive face melts into a rare smile that Leo aches to see. He's not smiled like that since before Dad...

Cassandra's arms flop to her sides. April, Mikey and Raph stare, rendered speechless until April lifts a finger. “... er, Don, are you sure—?”

“Quite sure, Commander O'Neil,” the impassive mask returns, but Donnie's fooling no one. “Now if you don't mind, Jr and I are very busy bees and must get back to work, so begone. And while you're at it, please issue this new warning to the rest of the base: 'I have only had Casey Jones Jr for five hours, but if anything happens to him, I will kill everyone in this base and then myself.' Good day.”

“Goo' 'ay!” Casey chimes and Leo has a front-row seat to Donnie's delighted crooked smirk right before he slams the door shut in their faces.

There's a beat of silence.

Then Raph claps his hands. “So,” he draws out with a strained smile, “who saw that coming?”

“Me,” Leo sings.

“You bet against him!” Cassandra booms. “With non-existent money!”

Leo shrugs, motioning them to follow him down the hall. “Only on principle. I knew he had it in him. Jr is family and Donnie loves attention and family. It was bound to happen.”

“Aaand it was stupidly cute!” Mikey chimes, floating by them with his hands tucked under his chin.

Leo thinks of the tingle he'd felt in his chest hours ago when Cassandra first ditched—ahem—dropped Jr off with Donnie, of the familiar tune from an old, corny yet hopeful film from their childhood humming from the fringes of their Mind Meld, of the glee and soft, new, helpless love bleeding from Donnie's gaze, his smile, as Jr babbled his name.

Leo smiles. “Yeah. Stupidly cute.”

---

Reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to drop more requests! For those of you still waiting, thank you for your patience I will get to them soon! :3 <3

[marinasmarvel]

Old man

Summary: When Natasha calls Steve old one too many times, he decides to teach his girlfriend a lesson.

Warnings: Tickling and fluff

A/N: I’m a sap, what can I say.

-

Steve Rogers is pretty sure he fell in love with Natasha Romanoff the moment they kissed on that escalator.

It made his body heat up in a way he can’t even comprehend.

But, they were on the run. There was no time for feelings.

Then, Natasha had something going on with Banner. He hid it well, but seeing them together made his body flare up with jealousy.

After the accords and being on the run, he never bothered to confess. Despite the way he nearly fell over when he saw her with short blonde hair.

God, she looked so fucking good.

But everything changed.

They lost.

Sam, Bucky, T’Challa, Wanda, and billions of others were dusted. Gone in seconds.

Tony had chewed him out pretty good. Steve supposed he deserved that.

Five years passed.

And then there was hope.

And then Natasha died. Sacrificing herself for the soul stone.

Steve stifled his sobs, buried his heartbreak. But he quietly excused himself, going to a private room to sob so heavily it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

After the final battle, Steve was tasked with returning the stones.

And something happened he never expected.

Natasha was back. Returning the soul stone to Schmidt somehow made him able to return her.

And Steve had never felt happier.

-

Steve brushes Natasha’s hair out of her face, making her nose scrunch up adorably in her sleep.

She’s curled into his chest, his strong arms holding her close. At any moment, Yelena will come knocking on the door, telling Natasha to hurry up so they can spar. She used to just barge in, but quickly learned her lesson when she caught the two of them in a…compromising position so to speak.

But, Steve likes her. She’s a sweet kid, despite her tough exterior and incessant teasing. He’s always willing to let Yelena snuggle with her during movie nights, choosing to sit with Bucky and Sam instead.

He knows that Natasha loves her sister, and he never wants to get in the way of that.

A loud knock at the door brings Steve out of his thoughts. Natasha jolts awake, glaring at the door.

“Get up poser!! We need to spar!”

Yelena’s Russian accent rings throughout the room.

Natasha groans. “Morning, old man.” She quips, pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips. He pulls back with a small glare.

Natasha has been calling him old man for weeks now. Disregarding his time in the ice, Steve is only 40. But, technically, he’s 106.

Natasha smirks at him, getting out of bed and sauntering over to their on suite to relieve herself. She quickly changes into workout clothes, giving Steve one last peck before leaving their room.

“Love you, old man.”

Steve groans.

-

One thing about Natasha, is that she loves to tease.

Whenever Steve has trouble with some modern technology, or really for any reason, she will call him ‘old man’ with her signature grin.

He tolerates it, knowing that she’s just poking fun. But seriously, can she cut a guy some slack?

Steve glares at Natasha, who is trying and failing to hold her laughter in.

She had to come to his rescue when he couldn’t figure out how to switch the HDMI on the tv. And now, she’s laughing at his expense.

“You know doll, I don’t appreciate my girlfriend laughing at my very real struggles.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

She smiles at him lovingly. “Don’t be so grumpy, old man. I think your struggles are cute. Endearing, even.” She pecks his cheek, which instantly puts a smile on his face.

He can’t help himself. It’s impossible to stay annoyed at her for very long.

She’s just too cute.

-

Steve grunts, falling face first into the mats.

His bare feet struggle to find a grip as Natasha continues to pin him.

Despite being stronger and faster, Natasha is much more skilled in hand to hand combat and general fighting skill. It’s a rarity for anyone except Yelena to come close to beating her. Maybe Bucky, but he usually holds back when sparring.

He feels Natasha’s foot on his back, holding him down as her toes dig into his spine. Her hand has a firm grip on his wrist, holding his right arm up behind his back.

Steve taps his left hand on the mat, tapping out. Natasha smirks triumphantly, releasing his arm and removing her foot from his back.

“Are you having a hard time keeping up, old man?” She teases, sitting down on the mats next to him.

Something ignites in Steve. Before she can react, he wraps his arms around her waist, wrestling her on the ground. He’s not really fighting her, it’s all playful.

Natasha laughs as Steve tackles her, trying to squirm from his grasp. Playful wrestling is a very common bonding technique between avengers.

“Are you going to stop calling me old?” Steve questions, his breath hot on her ear. “Come on, babe. It’s true. You are old.”

With those words, Natasha seals her fate. Steve digs his fingers into her ribs, which makes her squeal with high pitched giggles.

“Steheheheve! Nohohohoho!” She protests, but her boyfriend doesn’t let up. He flips them over, pinning Natasha down on the ground, sitting on her waist. He holds her arms above her head. “Still think I’m old?”

Natasha debates saying no, but she’s feeling cheeky. “What do you think, old man?” She snarks.

Steve shoves his fingers under her arms, making her scream with laughter. He honestly finds it adorable how ticklish she is. Yelena had informed him that Natasha’s armpits are her weak spot.

“What’s the matter, Nat? What’s so funny? I didn’t tell a joke.” He teases, leaning down and pressing ticklish kisses to her neck. Natasha squeals at the new sensation, scrunching up her neck.

“Stohohohop! Nohohohoho!” Natasha’s protests fall on deaf ears. Steve knows Natasha doesn’t truly mind this. She loves to play.

When tears form in Natasha’s eyes, Steve lets up. She giggles breathlessly, trying to regain her composure. “That was unnecessary.” She pants.

Steve chuckles, lying down next to her and hugging her tight. “I love you, doll.”

Natasha smirks.

“I love you too, old man.”

-

A/N: Hope you guys like this one! Thank you for reading!

[nametakensff]

Steve and Eddie- 💦🤬⛈

Thank you for the prompt, anon! ❤️ Here's just over 6k of these dumb guys being in love

E/ddie is in a grumpy mood and hoping that his date with S/teve will cheer him up - but a sudden rainstorm and bout of insecurity might get in the way of that

(I kind of based this after this fic and before all my others where they've been together for a while - I still need to write a fic about them getting together in this sort of AU I've gradually created - but you don't need to read anything else though, it's ultimately just snz porn 😅)

~~~~~~

Content: M/M, Established (but relatively new) relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, pollen allergies, a LOT of mess (not too graphic but just in case!), blow jobs, cumming in pants, little bit of humiliation, just guys being dudes

CW: Just in case, characters feeling insecure about the fetish momentarily

NSFW, minors dni etc etc etc

“Heh-ENGXtchh!! NGXtchhh!! IGXT’chieww!! Ehdt’TCHIEWW!! FUCK, man…”

Eddie swiped under his nose for what felt like the fiftieth time since the start of this latest Corroded Coffin jam session. Gareth had closed the garage door for him in an attempt to fend off the offending pollen, but the damage had already been done – long before he’d even arrived, if he was being honest. These fucking allergies.

He pointedly ignored the somewhat wary round of blessings his bandmates offered. He was embarrassed as hell, normally able to stifle his hay fever into submission quite successfully if need be. He didn’t care so much about Gareth seeing him this way, not when he’d seen much, much worse over the years – but he didn’t feel like having a full-on allergy attack in front of anyone who wasn’t Steve right now, and even that was debatable. He cleared his throat and stood tall.

“Okay, second chorus, from the top!”

His voice broke slightly mid-sentence and he almost ground his teeth in frustration. This was a bad fucking allergy day. Normally he would have called band practice off with some half-assed excuse to avoid the aggravation. He should have learned about trying to suppress his sneezing for too long, especially after the recent humiliating debacle where he had what could only be described as a semi-nuclear allergic reaction at Steve’s house, in front of all his new friends. That everyone had been super cool about it, and that the discovery of his and Steve’s mutual fetish from that night had urged him to pursue the younger man, was irrelevant. He liked attention, craved it, but only if it was the kind that he cultivated willingly for himself.

Luckily, the sheer grumpiness he was experiencing today was somewhat working to curtail the inconvenient physiological response he was prone to after a consistent bout of sneezing. His cock was cowering away from him, not unlike the rest of Corroded Coffin, for which he was entirely grateful. Being in a bad mood still sucked - he took no pleasure in this moodiness. Tyranny was only fun if he was in complete control of his own emotions.

Gareth counted them in and they started up again. For about twenty minutes Eddie was able to forget his allergies and play for all he was worth. He’d been working on his vocals, trying his best to project from his diaphragm rather than screaming his throat sore, and he was thrilled to find that it was actually making a difference. He didn’t have that long to appreciate it, however, spinning away from his friends mid-song with a sudden wrenching gasp, falling into a fit of violent sneezes.

“IGT’TCHiewww!! Ehh’NGXTT’Chieww!! DZZ’Shieww!! HAGT’TCHieww!!”

They tickled so much his eyes swam with tears. They were also, to his chagrin, particularly high-pitched and desperate sounding. His cock twitched minutely for a moment in his pants and he blushed, hiding in his hair as much as he was able whilst his body spasmed under the assault. This was no good, no good at all. He reared back for the definitive sneeze of the fit, massive inhale stretching his chest to capacity.

“HEHH-ENGXTCHH’tsiewww!!!”

Holy fuck, that had been big. Not only that, it had been messy. He clapped a hand to his face to conceal the productive results, blush burning his cheeks. Still angled away from his bandmates, he fumbled for his bandana, cursing when he came up empty. Just his fucking luck. He sniffled reflexively, cringing at the thick crackling sound of it.

“Gross, dude…”

He span round immediately, anger and humiliation pulsing through him in waves.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Tim!” He spat, trying his best to look intimidating behind the hand clamped to his face.

“Oookay, guys, let’s take five, yeah?” Jeff sighed, placing his guitar neatly up against an amp before making his way into Gareth’s house. He slapped Tim on the shoulder, urging him to follow. Tim gave Eddie one last pointed glare before taking the hint and skulking off through the garage door. Eddie watched him leave, snuffling into his hand.

Gareth, who had silently watched the whole thing unfold from behind his drum kit, made his way over to a stack of shelves in the corner, retrieving a half empty box of tissues. He would never tell Eddie that he’d left it there specifically for him and that nobody had used it before or since the last time he’d been suffering with nasal difficulties at his house. He walked back over to his friend, punching him gently on the arm and pushing the box of tissues into his free hand.

“If I say ‘god bless you’, will you bite my head off?”

Eddie grumbled something that Gareth didn’t quite catch before turning around, balancing the box on his guitar and yanking a bundle of tissues out as best he could with one hand. The drummer gave him some privacy, mindlessly tinkering with the cymbals of his kit and trying his best not to wince at the incredibly thick nose blows that pierced the otherwise companionable silence.

The older man finished clearing out his sinuses as best he could and groaned. He hated losing his temper like that. Tim was right, of course – this was objectively gross, even if he would subjectively love to see Steve in the same state he was currently in. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, willing himself to lighten up.

“Bad allergy day?”

Eddie cracked open an eye and peered at Gareth, who was smiling with faux innocence back at him.

“Whadt tipped you off, Nandcy Drew?” He sniped, cringing only slightly at the additional Ds his swollen sinuses sprinkled into the sentence.

Gareth put his hands up in wordless surrender, smiling softly and deciding to leave it. Eddie was aware he was being handled like a recalcitrant beast with a thorn in its paw, and if it had been anyone other than the drummer he would have lashed out in response to the overcautious mollycoddling. But it was Gareth, so he merely closed his eyes again and listened as the drummer fucked around with various drum fills. He muffled another fit of itchy sneezes into a tissue, acknowledging the blessing from his friend with a nod.

“You seeing Steve today?” He heard Gareth ask after a beat.

“…Yeah. Unfortunately. I mean – because I’m – y’know.” Eddie gestured at his face.

“It’s no big deal, dude. He doesn’t seem like the type to care.”

Eddie knew that was an understatement. Steve fucking loved seeing him like this, and normally the metalhead would welcome the undivided attention and subsequent orgasms. But they were still so new, the pair of them – neither had been with a guy before (not that Eddie had really had much more experience with girls than a few drunken hand jobs at the senior parties he used to crash), and they were trying to take things slow. They hadn’t even formally named their relationship out loud, though it was obvious to the both of them this was far more than a mutual crush.

It wasn’t so much that Eddie wished they didn’t have this – shared interest, in sneezing. It was that he was painfully aware of how distracting he was being when he hung out with Steve. Sometimes he wanted to carry out a full conversation without sneezing himself breathless and leaving the younger man with a raging boner, driving himself wild in the process. Not that he could blame him – he’d just about lost his mind the first time Steve had sneezed against his neck, coming into the younger man’s hand in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

This allergy season had been so much worse than any other he could remember, and wondered if it had something to do with his stint in the upside down. It would be just his luck if all those nasty spores and particles had exacerbated his already impressive reactions to pollen. Even if it had been the catalyst to hooking up with Steve, even if he combusted with pleasure every time it earned him a blessing from the object of his desire, it was getting old, fast.

“Yeah, I know. But Tim is right, man – I’m gross. Sick of it.”

“Kid’s, like, not all there. I love the guy but he’s more than a little direct. You can’t take it to heart, man.”

Eddie nodded. He knew he was right. Tim was a socially awkward weirdo, the reason why they had all basically become friends in the first place. He was blunt, that was just the fact of the matter.

“Thanks, Gare. I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t. I’ve seen the way Harrington looks at you – now that’s fucking gross. You googly eyed bastards eye-fucking each other, constantly. Yeah, don’t worry, he’s going nowhere.”

Eddie hurled a balled-up wad of tissues at him, laughing as he managed to hit the younger man square in the forehead and earning himself a disgusted shriek in response. He loved this stupid kid – he always seemed to know just what to say to cheer him up. He resolved to keep his temper for the rest of their jam sesh, nervously counting down the time to his date with Steve.

~~~~

He had to admit his low mood had at least been temporarily assuaged by the sight of Steve opening his door, a radiant smile on his face and visibly excited to see Eddie standing there. He drove the two of them out into a particularly scenic clearing he’d found in the woods – nobody else went out there anymore – and nervously laid out a ratty old picnic blanket and the food he brought with him. He felt pretty unoriginal, maybe kind of predictable, but Steve seemed thrilled all the same. Eddie’s cheeks hurt from smiling more in the past couple of months getting to know the younger man than he could remember ever before in his life. Maybe Gareth was right – they were googly eyed bastards. But no one else was around to see, so Eddie happily let Steve lay him down on the blanketed ground and suck a pattern of hickeys onto the column of his neck.

So far, his allergies were giving him minimal trouble. In the couple of hours after he’d woken up at noon (band practice was only at 1pm, so sue him), he’d been at his worst and taken a second round of allergy medication – probably just under the amount it would take him to get loopy off of the stuff. It had worked though, to a certain extent. He was still having little semi-regular fits of four or five, much to Steve’s appreciation, but it was just enough that he didn’t feel like a total mess.

He moaned as Steve sucked particularly hard at the junction of his neck and shoulder, vaguely aware of a creeping tickle lurking just beneath the surface. He sniffled and gripped harder at the fabric stretched over Steve’s muscular back, pressing his hips up against the thigh the younger man had lodged firmly between his legs. He continued to lean into the pleasure until the tickle proved too much –  it felt even stronger than before, buzzing insistently and with malicious intent. Fuck, yeah, he was definitely going to –

“S-Steve, mm’gonna-!! HDDZ’tschh!! Higxtt!! Heh’ENGXTCH’ieww! ‘Tssieww!!”

He rocked upwards with the force of them, attempting to suppress them as much as he was able. He aimed them over Steve’s shoulder, delicate clouds of spray misting the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His cock throbbed against the younger man’s thigh as his own legs reflexively squeezed around it, forcing a gasp out of him. Steve tensed before moaning against him, redoubling his efforts and sucking even harder.

“Bless you, Eds. You’re so allergic.”

Eddie felt his face pinken. It was everything he’d been fantasising about months – being with Steve, Steve getting off on him, getting off to his sneezes – but somehow, in this moment, he felt more insecure than he had since his gnarly allergic meltdown months prior. It was so stupid – that whole thing had more than proven to him that Steve didn’t find him disgusting, that he could actually be perceived as attractive even at his absolute worst. He should be fine. Why wasn’t he fine?

The confusion and discomfort brought back his sour mood in an instant, and he gently pushed at Steve. To his credit, the younger man immediately backed off, helping Eddie sit up, a broad hand supporting his back.

“What’s wrong, dude? I didn’t – I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no, you’re good. It’s just-“

“Allergies bothering you?”

Eddie looked at Steve, saw the genuine concern on his face, but also the way his eyes lit up over the mention of his allergies. His stomach flipped. God, what was wrong with him?

“It’s – it’s not that. I mean, yes, but it’s – it’s-“

He groaned in frustration, gripping his head in hands and leaning forward so that his long tresses fell over his face. Steve sat back, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. Eddie could practically feel the anxious energy radiating off of him in waves. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let Steve think he was the problem. But god, was he? He opened his mouth to speak, not knowing quite what would come out but willing to give it a try.

“I feel like – and this is gonna sound so strange – but like – maybe you like my – my sneezing, more than you like me? And don’t get me wrong, I get it, man, I’m into the same shit – fuck, you know that. I just – can’t be sure, when I’m having these – reactions, that you’re, you know, with me because you actually like – well, me. Umm…”

He trailed off, letting the meaning of his well-intentioned rambling sink in. It sounded ridiculous, and he cringed waiting for Steve’s reprobation. Instead, he felt Steve gently tilting his head towards his own, forcing him to look into his eyes. He looked painfully sad. Eddie opened and closed his mouth, his vocal tenacity leaving him as quickly as it had come.

“Do I really make you feel that way?” Steve asked in a small voice.

He looked so crestfallen that Eddie had the distinct realisation that this must be what it felt like to kick a puppy.

“Steve, I’m sorry – just ignore what I said, man, it’s cool.”

He watched as the younger man shook his head.

“No. I can’t ignore it. Oh, man,”

Eddie watched him run a hand through his perfect hair, a distinctly anxious gesture.

“I’m not good at this, dude. I’m not good at making people happy. I’m always fucking up but I’m never sure why, and then it blindsides me.”

Eddie shook his head. He opened his mouth, wanting to reassure Steve that he made him happier than anyone he’d ever met before, but paused when the younger man raised a hand softly, signalling to let him finish.

“I try my best to do what I think I should be doing, but no matter what, I’m always waaay off the mark. I know how to hook up with people, but actually getting them to stay is something I just seem to be incapable of.”

He looked at Eddie and smiled. It looked so weary that his heart skipped a beat.

“If I came across, like, overly enthusiastic about the f-fetish stuff,” He faltered slightly, starting to blush. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never been in this position before, and I thought since you liked it too, I didn’t need to hold back. What I mean to say is – I’m good with sex, that’s what I know best. But clearly I’ve done a terrible job of making you realise how much I like you. Because I do like you, man – haven’t felt this way since anyone but Nance, and even then – this is just – it’s a lot.”

Eddie nodded, watching him intently. Steve ran his hand through his hair again.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry. For making you feel like I was using you just for sex or to scratch some perverted itch. I’m not very smart. I mean, everyone knows that.”

“Steve.”

“And I’m not sure how to make you see that I’m pretty much crazy about you. I thought maybe if I just – showed you in the way I know best-“

“Steve.”

Eddie reached out for him and pulled him into a fierce hug. Steve practically melted in his arms, the emotional spiral Eddie had sensed building up blessedly abating under his touch.

“I like you too. A stupid amount. And I don’t think I did a very good job of letting you know, either.”

He pulled back to look Steve in the eyes.

“I mean, what gives, man? It sounded like you thought I wanted to stop seeing you, or something.”

When Steve gave an awkward shrug, Eddie’s jaw dropped open.

“Harrington, you cannot be serious. Tell me you didn’t genuinely think I wanted to end things with you over that pathetic little monologue of mine?”

“Like I said, man. I’m dumb.”

“Ughh, Steve, you need to stop with this low self-esteem shit, honey,” The pet name slipped out before he could help it, but it didn’t seem to bother the younger man, who snuggled even closer to him.

“How about this? I stop ragging on myself when you actually let yourself believe that I want to be with you for more than a gratuitous lay, alright?” Steve said, jabbing him in the chest with an outstretched finger.

“Ooh, big word.”

“Fuck off!”

Steve wrestled him to the ground, pinning Eddie onto his back whilst the metalhead laughed with raucous abandon. Steve silenced him with a kiss.

“I’m serious, Munson. Wanna be with you. And I’ll back off with the – the sneezing stuff, if you want.”

Eddie smirked up at him.

“Jesus, you’re cute when you’re flustered. And god no, please don’t stop! You’ve convinced me. You like me, I like you, grass is green. We’re both not very good at this. I think we should kiss over it.”

Steve smiled down at him and leaned in to resume their making out when Eddie felt the familiar plip of a droplet of moisture bursting against his cheek. He thought Steve might have actually drooled on him for a split second, when there was another small splash against his forehead. And another. And another.

He craned his neck back to peer up at the sky. Clear and serenely blue only minutes earlier, it was now brimming with chubby, grey rainclouds.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”

And with that, the heavens opened up.

~~~~

Eddie was pissed. No, that was an understatement – he was livid. He hadn’t had the foresight to expect rain – a summer storm, a typical occurrence in Hawkins, and yet. He’d been so set on taking Steve on a traditional, normal date that he had effectively mentally eliminated any alternative outcomes to their outing other than a romantic little picnic in the afternoon sun, followed by cuddling and sex. Maybe escalating beyond the hand jobs they’d been trading, if they were feeling a little braver.

“God DAMMIT-!” He cursed as the rain seemed to pound down even harder. Luckily, they’d been able to locate a sheltered area on the edge of the clearing and duck into it before it really started to pour, escaping with minimal dampness. And it was warm, so at least they wouldn’t freeze. However, they’d abandoned the blanket and food in their single-minded urgency, realising only after they’d scurried well out of sight from them. His irritation at this mindless fuck up was only further stoked by the physical discomfort he was currently enduring. The way his wet bangs clung to his forehead felt disgusting; his sneakers were damp and his jeans clung to ankles. Alone, these sensations and gripes were inconsequential – but combined, they were a lethal mood killer.

He felt Steve reach out and squeeze his shoulder in consolation. When Eddie didn’t respond, staring moodily down at his own knees as he sat hugging them to his chest, Steve reached out and pulled him into a clumsy side-hug. The older man grunted, not thrilled about feeling even more wet fabric pressed up against his own sopping clothes, but enjoying the physical closeness nonetheless.

“You’re such a grump. A cute little grump.”

Steve murmured in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Eddie knew he could feel the responsive trembling, lips curling into a smile against the shell of his ear.

“Come on, Eds. Compared to what we’ve both been through? This is nothing.”

Eddie sighed, finding that although his bitterness persisted, Steve’s presence was a welcoming distraction.

“Somehow, Stevie, that doesn’t really make me feel any better.”

“Want me to sing you a song? I do a really good Phil Collins.”

The metalhead snorted and butted Steve’s cheek gently with his own.

“You do not. I was present for that Karaoke fiasco, Harrington. Leave it to the professionals.” He jabbed at his own chest with a thumb.

“Whatever, man. You liiiked it.” Steve sing-songed against his jawline.

Eddie meant to respond, but was stopped dead in his tracks by the familiar but daunting sensation of an intensely allergic tickle beginning to culminate. He moaned, reaching up with a fist and roughly mashing his nose around, hoping to bully the urge into submission, but no cigar. He could hear the damp squishing noise his sinuses made, worrying his nostrils pink with the effort. He had forgotten temporarily that if anything seemed to aggravate his allergies even more, it was rain.

He glanced at Steve, already feeling his eyelids fluttering in preparation for the release.

“Hh-Hh!! Steve, really gonnnnaa-hah..!! Hh, Start sneezing in a minute, fuck….”

He took in the hungry expression on Steve’s face, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He managed a little smirk at the way Steve’s eyes flitted about his face, taking in his flaring nostrils one moment, his furrowed brow the next. He sniffled, more to watch how Steve would react, but then realising he was a lot stuffier than he had originally thought.

“Ugh, I’m probably gonna….make a hh-HH!! Hahh mess….”

He heard the soft sound the younger man made in the back of his throat, felt the way the arm slung around his shoulders pulled him incrementally closer.

“That’s ok, Eds. I don’t mind.”

“Mmm, I’m sure you don’t, big boy…Hh!!”

Steve blushed and shot him a bashful little smile. It was probably one of the cutest things Eddie had ever seen, and he suddenly felt just as shy as Steve looked.

“Can I…keep holding you? While you sneeze? Is that ok?”

Eddie pressed a pair of fingers under his flaring nostrils, temporarily abating the building tickle just enough to respond.

“M-more than okaayyy-HH!! Wanted that f-for-! Months, now!! Ohhh, Steve, Mm’gonna-!! Need’ta-!!”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

Eddie’s head swam at the sudden pet name, feeling as if he’d hurtled over the peak of the world’s tallest roller coaster. For a moment, the butterflies and giddiness threatened to overwhelm the need to sneeze, but as always, the tickle in his nose reigned supreme. He sucked in one final choppy breath before he was sent sprawling forward, helpless as the pollen teased him breathless.

“Hh-HHDT!! DZZSSHH’IEWW!! H’ENGXT’TCHIEEWW!! IGSSCH!! GXXT’Shieww!!”

He felt Steve pulling him closer, turning him effortlessly towards him so that he was halfway into his lap and sneezing towards his chest. Each sneeze felt as if they only exacerbated the tickle, leaving him gasping, tears starting to spill down his cheeks.

“HIGG’Shiewww!! EhhHDT’Tchieww!! IGXXT’tsieww!! HHhohh my godddDXXSH’Ieww!! Hahh!”

Everywhere Steve touched him, he burned in exquisite agony. His nostrils flared in and out as the tickle toyed with him, breath hitching dramatically. He knew he was making a scene; knowing that Steve was hanging on to his every gasp and sigh made the experience all the more pleasurable. His cock throbbed in his jeans.

“EHH’GXXTT’SHIieww!! HGSHHH!! GSHHH’ieww!! EHH’NGXTTtchhh!!”

His nose was running down to his top lip now, dangerously close to overflowing. He reached up with a shaky hand, intending to cover, but felt Steve grasp him by the wrist and gently lower it again. By this point, the younger man had shifted him to sit completely in his lap, and as Eddie hitched towards another round of impossibly tickly sneezes, Steve gently pressed his head down to lean against his shoulder. Eddie gripped frantically at the cotton of Steve’s shirt, grounding himself, before sneezing violently down and across the younger man’s chest. He could hear Steve mumbling reassuringly to him throughout.

“Holy shit, Munson, Bless you – Bless you! So tickly…It’s okay, I’ve got you. You sound so good, Eds. So hot. Fuckkk….Bless you, bless you!”

Eddie’s face was burning, both with the effort of the overwhelming reaction to the pollen and the intoxicating pleasure his own sneezes sent pulsing through his body. He would rather someone else sneeze, but damn if his own didn’t get him going when they rendered him a helpless mess like this. His cock twitched with every expulsion, the releases that burst out of him sending pleasant shivers rippling from the base of his skull to the tips of his fingers and toes. Steve’s breathless encouragement only intensified the experience for him.

“hh-HH-HDDT-!! HIGGG’TSHHIEWW!! TSSHIEWW!! EHHSHHH’IEWww!! ENGGXTCHHH!!!”

He felt mess burst from his flared nostrils with that last body-crunching sneeze, sending twin tendrils hanging over his lips. He felt Steve wipe most of it away with his bare fingers, and the kinkiness of the gesture made his hips buck. And still he sneezed.

“GGGSSHH’IIEWW!! Hh, HEH!! Heh’EGXTT’SHieww!! HNGXTCHH!! GXXXTT’Shiewww!!”

Finally, it felt like the tickle was cresting into a definitive, final explosion. He moaned, not sure if he could handle something of the magnitude the building sensation promised, but all the same he was gasping, head jogging against Steve’s shoulder, back expanding within Steve’s embrace. He hitched once, twice, three times before the sneeze held him on the edge in a silent grimace – and then he was lurching forward, almost sending the pair of them sprawling backwards onto the forest floor with the force of it.

“HEEEIHHHH’DZZZTSHHIEWWW!!! Hahhh-!”

He panted, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s shoulder and wrapping his arms round his waist. Dizzy and exhausted, he slumped against the solid weight of the younger man, luxuriating in the aftermath of that all-encompassing fit. He was painfully hard now. He felt Steve stroking his hair and rubbing his back with broad, open-palmed strokes. He opened his bleary eyes for the first time since his fit had begun, previously unable to do so under the persistent assault.

“Jesus Christ…”

He muttered under his breath, taking in the extent of the damage he’d caused. Steve’s baby blue shirt was almost transparent where it clung to his chest, saturated with the result of Eddie’s impressive allergies as it was. There was further mess dripping slowly downwards, gluing the shirt to his abdomen as it sunk into the fabric. He tentatively looked up at Steve, not quite knowing if he had crossed over the delicate line of sexy to disgusting. One quick glance at the former jock’s ruined expression was all it took to reassure him that he was still very much securely in the sexy camp. He smiled coyly.

“Told you I’d make a mess.” He sniffled for emphasis and rubbed his runny nose against Steve’s shoulder until it sported twin damp patches.

Steve kissed into his hair, and Eddie noticed that he was panting too.

“That was – amazing. Holy shit. I mean – wow!!”

Eddie laughed fondly at how winded the other man sounded, more than a little pleased with himself. It felt so good to sneeze as hard as his body desired, and to know that he was turning King Steve on by being a sloppy, allergic mess was more than a little erotic. He felt like he’d come with just a few brisk jerks of his cock.

“Mm’glad you liked it.” He giggled shyly, a little loopy in the aftermath of it all.

Steve lifted his head up gently by the chin, scanning his face with eyes full of emotion.

“Are you okay?? Fuck, that was so intense. Your allergies, man….”

Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I mean, you heard me – before, at your place. It can get a little – ridiculous, if I’m not on top of medication. Or when I’m outside in the elements. Or when it rains – god, especially when it rains!”

Steve laughed.               

“Yeah, man, I see that now.” He reached down to touch the slick fabric of his shirt. Eddie didn’t miss the way his breath caught as his fingers slipped over it.

Emboldened, he wiped his nose roughly along the back of his hand and a little further up his arm, grateful to be wearing a sleeveless shirt, before gripping Steve by the collar and pulling his head close.

“Want me to get you off, Harrington? Want me to make you come all over the forest floor?” He murmured against Steve’s lips.

Eddie was expecting a moan of some kind, but not the half-strangled groan that Steve emitted, reaching up to cover his burning face with a broad, tan hand. Confused, the metalhead reached down to grip Steve’s erection – finding a distinctly soft cock and a huge wet patch spread across the mouth-wateringly tight Levi’s that the younger man favoured. He gaped, eyes round in surprise, and stared at Steve in a look of silent amazement. Steve peered at him through the protective cage of his fingers and moaned again.

“I – it’s because – you were so-! And I-!”

As Steve flailed and spluttered, a grin spread wider and wider across Eddie’s face. Holy shit. He had made Steve motherfucking Harrington come in has pants, untouched. He had done that. Holy shit.

“Stevie, did you jizz in your pants for little old me?” He drawled, delighting in the deepening blush that spread all the way to the tips of the younger man’s ears. He leaned forward and gently bit one, feeling the heat of the blood radiating from the delicate skin.

“…Yes. I did. I swear, I’m not-! This hasn’t happened before. You’re just…so hot,” Steve admitted, leaning into the tiny kisses that Eddie pressed along the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks.

“So sensitive, Stevie. I like that.”

He kissed Steve firmly on the mouth, both of them moaning at the sensation of Eddie’s slick nostrils and cupid’s bow pressing up against Steve’s own nose. The older man gasped at the sudden grip of Steve’s palm cupping him through his jeans, thrusting into it instinctively. He was about several pumps away from coming into his pants himself when Steve released his hold. Eddie whined, his hips chasing the receding hand in vain. He looked up at the younger man impatiently.

“Can I suck you off?”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. He hadn���t been expecting that. But the answer was an absolute, resounding yes.

“Please,” he whined against Steve’s mouth, feeling the younger man smile before starting to push him back onto the soft grass and up against the roots of a tree. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but the desire he felt for Steve eclipsed the minor discomfort. He watched as Steve eagerly unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, pumping it softly but firmly enough that Eddie’s head knocked back against the tree trunk with a gentle thunk. Steve paused for a moment.

“I should, uh, say – neither of us have been with guys before, so – this is my first time giving head. Sucking cock, I mean. I’m sorry if I’m not all that good after talking such a big game about sex before.”

Eddie let him finish, nodding his head.

“Well, Steve, rest assured that no matter what you do to me, you and your mouth have the unprecedented honour of taking my oral virginity. So go wild, honey.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Really?! You’ve never gotten a blow job before, not even once?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Now I know it may come as a total shocker to the likes of you, pretty boy, but being the leader of the Hellfire Club and resident freak didn’t exactly leave me swimming in pussy. You’re my first almost everything, basically – or the only person that ever mattered.”

Steve started to jerk him off again.

“Aww, Eds…”

“Don’t patronise me, Harrington, I swear to god.”

“Sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

And with that, Steve took his cock into his mouth and sucked hard. Eddie groaned, reaching forward to grip gently at Steve’s hair but stopping just short, hands hovering in question. Steve peered up at him before guiding his hands to rest on his scalp.

“Just don’t pull hard, okay?”

“ohhh-kayy-ee!!” Eddie whimpered as Steve began to suck and lick him in a punishing rhythm, using one hand to jerk the rest of his cock he couldn’t fit in his mouth. The older man’s eyes rolled back into his head, once again thunking gently against the tree. Steve was a god damn natural. It felt just as good to have a mouth round his cock as he had imagined, moreso, even.

He panted, expression twisted in ecstasy, and looked down the length of his body to watch Steve work. They locked eyes, Eddie unable to look away as Steve’s head bobbed rhythmically, looking prettier than anyone had any right to as their cheek bulged with cock. He wouldn’t last – it was so good, too good, and he was already so on edge.

“God, Stevie, think you're gonna make me come already…! Oh god, oh fuck-!!”

Steve moaned, the vibrations travelling down Eddie’s cock and wrenching a keening wail from him. His eyes scrunched shut, mind replaying the intense sensations of his sneezing fit, the way Steve had held him, the way Steve had actually come in his pants over Eddie spraying him with snot – these pleasurable thoughts combined with a particularly strong suck against the head of his cock pushed him over the edge, coming with a wordless groan. The pleasure was intense, his strongest orgasm in a while, leaving his toes curling in his sneakers. When it finally subsided, he could only moan stupidly, fingers flexing in Steve’s hair.

He felt Steve pulling off of him, and watched as he spat a mouthful of cum onto the ground beside them. Eddie grinned goofily at him, endorphins overloading his system and making this sight far funnier than it should otherwise be.

“You’ll let me snot all over your chest, but you won’t swallow my cum?”

Steve shot him an overly dramatic look of disgust.

“You need to work on your diet.”

Eddie kicked at him feebly. Steve gently tucked him back into his pants and zipped them up.

“So…was I any good?” He grinned in a way that showed he knew just how well he’d done.

“You know you were, asshole. Are you sure that’s the first cock you sucked?”

“Well….I managed to reach the tip of my own with my tongue, one time.” Steve said nonchalantly, pulling Eddie upwards into a sitting position.

“Ha! Better than I managed. Almost threw my back out, and for what?” They both laughed at that.

“Hey, rain’s stopped!” Steve blurted out so suddenly Eddie nearly jumped.

“Shit, finally!”

Eddie made his way to his feet, shaking slightly as his legs were still a little wobbly in the aftermath of his first blow job ever. Steve stood up beside him and slapped him on the back in that distinctive fashion that all jocks and former jocks would continue to do for the rest of their lives.

“Let’s go find the stuff and then we can head to m-my place…Hh!!”

Eddie’s ears perked up immediately. He spun round and watched in delight as Steve barrelled forward with a sudden harsh triple, aimed haphazardly into an upraised elbow.

“HARRESSSHHIEWW!! AESSSHHHUU!! HHRRRSHHH’UU!! Ugh, god…’scuse me.” He sniffled and gently swiped under his nose with a crooked finger.

Even though he was still practically reeling in the aftermath of the orgasm he’d had not minutes earlier, Eddie’s spent cock gave an appreciative little twitch at the spraying sound of those powerful sneezes.

“Bless you, Stevie. Your timing is a little off, but I’ll take it.”

Steve laughed and nudged him gently with his shoulder, looking even more pleased with himself.

“The damp’s getting to me a little. Come home with me? It’s warm and we can…clean up.” He gestured towards his ruined t-shirt.

“Yeah. I’d like that. And Steve?” Eddie said as they made their way towards the clearing.

“Mmhm?”

“I think I want you to come in my mouth next.”

Steve yanked him forward by the wrist, breaking out into a half-run and slipping haphazardly on the wet grass, and Eddie laughed until tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.

~~~~~~

(Idk why I always write Steve cumming in his pants lmao.....he just looks like he would to me😤)

[imaginefan]

The New Baby *Part 3*

Jeremy Gilbert X Son!Character

Word Count: 506

Requested: @emaz-0225

Request: Original Request

*Part 2*

Jeremy waved you off with Asher, you were going on a date, after everything that happened they all figured you needed some time to yourself. Katherine had recently stopped by to tell you that Klaus was expecting a baby in New Orleans, something he had neglected to tell you before leaving, it was only a couple of days later that someone asked you on a date, even with the knowledge that you had twins at home so you were excited to give him a chance, however Asher had been grumpy all day and you almost decided to call it off but Jeremy promised you that they would be fine.

Jay had gone on a trip with Damon and Stefan so it was just Asher and Jeremy, while he had been well behaved he wasn’t himself, they had watched all the movies that he wanted to and eaten, it was now time for bed, he had sent Asher upstairs while he got his blood ready “never thought this was something that I would be doing for my child.” He mumbled as he held up the sippy cup of blood, he shrugged before heading up the stairs. Jeremy walked into Asher's bedroom, he smiled at the decoration, a forest themed room with glow in the dark stars on the ceiling “alright big guy you going to tell me what’s going on?” He asked. “What if mum leaves, you do all the time.” Asher said, Jeremy walked over handing him the cup before picking him up. “She’s not going to leave you kid, I can promise you that, she loves you just like the rest of us, I only leave because I live with Auntie Elena and Ric.” Jeremy explained. “I think Damon would kill me if I lived here.” “Why?” Asher asked. “Never mind about that, come on, it's time for bed.” He said. “I’m not tired.” Asher mumbled. “How are you not tired, I’m exhausted.” Jeremy complained. “That’s because you're old.” He mumbled. “Oh really well then if that is how we’re going to behave then I’ll have to call Damon and tell him what you said and then he’ll keep your present all for himself and Klaus will have to talk to Santa about taking you off the nice list.” Jeremy teased as he tickled his side, he laughed as he climbed back into bed “remember Asher I’m always just a phone call away, you can just ask Mummy to call me and I’ll come see or talk to you I promise.” “Okay thank Dad.” He said as Jeremy turned off the light and headed back downstairs, he sat on the sofa as he thought about what his life and led to, with two 2 year old Tribrid twins and how scary that was, he then realised that he wasn’t even the one that looked after them the most and his thought shifted to you. The girl who took on everything and just kept going you were brave, braver than anyone would give you credit for.

*Part 4*

Requests and general question!

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey~! :D

Idk when or if you're releasing another fic for TMNT 2012 anytime soon, buuuuuut can I ask for some headcanons in the meantime~? 😇

If you have any to share that is. :3

Ofc you can my fellow Anon! (Funny you mention TMNT 2012- I’m literally working on a fanfic for it rn but shhhhh- didn’t hear it from me…)

~ TMNT 2012 Tickle Headcanons (pt.1) ~

Look at my children 💞✨💖💞💕🫶🏾🫶🏾- absolute angels who wouldn’t hurt a fly /j

I’m glad the fandom just…universally agreed that Leo is the most ticklish out of his brothers

It just makes sense

Mr. I’m-so-serious-and-I-have-to-set-an-example-for-my-younger-brother’s is ticklish???

Who would’ve known!

Definitely not Leo that’s for sure-

Was taken aback just by how ticklish he was and how much he liked it

I feel like Raph can say the t-word as if it’s just an everyday thing

Like to him, it’s just an everyday word. Sure, tickling itself is embarrassing, but the word? Meh. Not really.

Uses that advantage ALL THE DAMN TIME while talking

Saying shit like: “The adults or just having a tickle fight. It’s fine, you guys.” or “That tickled my fancy!”

As he just evily watches his siblings crumble at the mention of the word

He’s such an asshole ISTG /aff

Master Splinter knows his sons enjoy tickling so he always tickles them but uses excuses like “You need to be able to sense where I’m coming from, my son.”

As he’s just brutally tickling the hell out of one of them

He’s the tickle monster they all agree to never ever EVER cross paths with

(They love they’re Dad with all they’re hearts but he can be one hell of a tickle monster)

Mikey is the kind of person who will tickle his brothers with every single chance he gets

Leo’s meditating and he’s ignoring him? Tickles.

Raph is whining and bitching about Mikey’s awesome cooking skills? Tickles.

Donnie is being grumpy? Tickles.

He will take every moment in the day to tickle his older brothers

Which is simultaneously his downfall but he really doesn’t mind

He absolutely loves hearing his brothers laughter- it’s his favorite thing in the world

Ever since Leo got thrown through that window (R.I.P. buddy) and was in the tub healing, there were scars and cuts on his shell

He’s extremely self conscious about it and frequently tried to hide the back of his shell sometimes- thinking that his shell looked utterly disgusting and he shouldn’t have to let his family see it

Donnie, being the medic of the family, would always remind Leo that he shouldn’t be ashamed of his scars- that they loved him- scars and all

And sometimes (all the time), Donnie he will lightly trace over Leo’s shell scars, playfully scolding Leo about how he shouldn’t be ashamed of himself or anything about himself and that he should love himself for the way he is because he’s perfect

And Leo’s just all embarrassed and giggly whenever Donnie does that; squirming and blushing like a tomato, not being able to do anything but just take it

(I put a pt.1 to this bc most likely I will be adding on to these. I have so many HC’s for these dumbass turtles it’s honestly concerning. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!)

@itzystopkiddingmenowloco @skye-minecraftyt-blog @tickleebug @vxlepop @mythica0 @someone1348 @snugglyfluffle @prettychillbrainfreeze @td-obsessive-therapist-friend @charismakat

My fellow TMNT 2012 enjoyers 💖💞💖✨💕