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pascalpvnk · 7 months

Text

take it from me

pairing: bilingual!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing.

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes.

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly.

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: take it from me

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inkspiredwriting · 25 days

Text

The Day of Swapped Powers

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

In the dimly lit basement of the Umbrella Academy, Five Hargreeves and his wife Y/n were elbow-deep in an experimental project. Y/n, with her ability to read minds, and Five, the seasoned time traveler, were working on a device designed to enhance their powers temporarily. It was supposed to be a simple test, but, as with most things involving the Hargreeves family, things quickly spiraled out of control.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Y/n asked, eyeing the array of wires and glowing components skeptically.

Five, ever confident, waved her concern away. "Of course, it’s safe. I’ve triple-checked everything. What could possibly go wrong?"

Those words hung ominously in the air as they activated the device. There was a blinding flash, a strange crackling noise, and then silence.

When the smoke cleared, Y/n and Five blinked at each other in confusion.

"Did it work?" Y/n asked, touching her temples.

Five glanced at his watch, which now displayed an array of random dates and times instead of the usual readings. "I’m not sure. I don’t feel any different."

Just then, Five’s head buzzed with an overwhelming wave of thoughts—Y/n’s thoughts. "Did he forget our anniversary? What if this messes up our abilities permanently? Why does he always have to be so reckless?"

Five’s eyes widened. “Y/n, I can hear your thoughts!”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes widening in shock. “Wait, what? I can’t hear yours anymore!”

Five glanced at the mess of equipment, realization dawning on him. “I think we’ve swapped powers.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open as she processed this. “You mean I can time travel now?”

Five nodded, grimacing. “And I get to hear everyone’s innermost thoughts. Fantastic.”

The next few hours were a comedy of errors as Five and Y/n bumbled through their new abilities.

Y/n stood in the middle of the living room, attempting to blink across the room. She scrunched up her face in concentration, only to find herself standing on top of the coffee table, much to the dismay of Pogo, who was quietly sipping tea.

“Try focusing on where you want to go!” Five shouted from the other side of the room, nursing a headache from the mental chatter of his siblings.

“I’m trying!” Y/n replied, a mix of frustration and determination on her face.

With a deep breath, she managed to blink to the other side of the room—right into a wall. She slid down with a groan, rubbing her nose. “I think I broke something,” she muttered.

Five winced sympathetically, while also struggling to keep Klaus’s incessant mental babble out of his head. "I wonder if I left my sandwich in the fridge or if Luther ate it. Maybe we should have a séance later. Ooh, what’s Five doing?"

Five squeezed his eyes shut. “Klaus, could you please shut up?”

Klaus, lounging on the couch, raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything!”

“I heard you thinking,” Five snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I don’t care about your sandwich.”

Klaus blinked. “Whoa, you’re reading my mind now? That’s… actually kind of creepy. Cool, but creepy.”

The rest of the day was no less chaotic. Five, now unable to block out people’s thoughts, found himself avoiding crowded rooms and anyone remotely agitated. He fled from Luther’s worries about him being a bad Leader, Diego’s brooding thoughts about his love life, and Allison’s musings about her career.

Y/n, meanwhile, was discovering that time travel was far more complicated than it looked. She tried jumping back to the living room, only to end up in her parents' bedroom. Her Mother's screams could be heard throughout the neighborhood

She reappeared in the living room, panting and wide-eyed. “You didn’t tell me there were so many things to consider when jumping!”

Five, who had taken refuge in the kitchen with a pair of noise-canceling headphones, looked at her sympathetically. “Welcome to my world.”

By evening, they had gathered in the living room with the rest of the family for dinner. Five was trying to block out the cacophony of thoughts, while Y/n was gingerly sipping on a glass of wine, hoping to steady her nerves.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked, noticing Five’s pained expression.

“Just fine,” Five lied through gritted teeth. "When will this dinner end? If I hear one more thought about mashed potatoes, I’m going to scream."

Y/n shot him a sympathetic look. “We need to figure out how to reverse this,” she murmured.

“Agreed,” Five said, wincing as Klaus’s thoughts about unicorns and rainbows floated into his mind.

After dinner, they returned to the basement to work on the device. Y/n, with a newfound appreciation for the complexities of time travel, meticulously followed Five’s instructions. Five, on the other hand, tried not to get distracted by Y/n’s focused thoughts and their shared determination to fix the mess.

“Okay, try activating it now,” Five instructed, holding his breath.

Y/n flipped the switch, and the device whirred to life. There was another blinding flash, and then everything went silent.

They blinked at each other again. Five tentatively tried to blink across the room and succeeded without ending up in a wall. Y/n reached out with her mind, relieved that she could hear the thoughts of the people she loved.

“We’re back to normal,” Y/n said, exhaling in relief.

“Thank God,” Five muttered, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know how you deal with all that mental noise.”

Y/n laughed, stepping forward to hug him. “It’s not easy, but now I understand how much you handle with time travel. I’m impressed.”

Five returned the hug, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have a newfound respect for your abilities too.”

The next day, as Five and Y/n lounged on the couch recovering from their ordeal, Klaus sauntered in, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, how was your day in each other’s shoes?” he teased, plopping down next to them.

Five rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say, never again.”

Y/n chuckled, squeezing Five’s hand. “It was definitely an experience.”

Klaus’s grin widened. “Maybe next time you can swap bodies instead. That would be hilarious.”

Five and Y/n exchanged horrified looks before bursting into laughter. No matter how crazy things got, they knew they could always count on each other, even if their powers were temporarily on the fritz.

As they cuddled together on the couch, exhausted but happy, Five realized that their love and partnership could withstand any challenge—even a day of swapped powers.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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hederasgarden · 6 months

Text

Sweet Surrender

Summary: Jake’s given and taken orders a hundred times throughout his career but nothing compares to the moment he realizes you liked it. Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1K Rating: 18+ only. Sexual content. Authority and sir kink, praise kink and Hangman being a cocky asshole. A/N: Thank you @wildbornsiren and @whatblogisthis216 for beta'ing and @blue-aconite for the beautiful graphic. In the future I may write part 2 if my muses cooperate. Reblogs and comments feed the muse.

Masterlist ♡ Top Gun Masterlist

Jake doesn’t pay much attention when you’re first introduced with the rest of the eggheads from the Office of Naval Research. Another one of many civilian engineers working on the new plane he’s been assigned to test. You keep things professional and polite although he can tell you find him attractive. It’s written all over your face and demeanor. You’re not the only one, several of the other engineers can’t seem to string together a full sentence around him.

You’re pretty, he can admit that much to himself, but a sweet face has never been enough on its own to hold his interest. Especially when he’s here to do a job, one he takes very seriously. The chance to be the first to fly the latest prototype jet isn’t an opportunity that comes up often. He volunteered immediately for the assignment when it came up, beating out most of his Top Gun class for the honor.

What he doesn’t bank on is having to sit through mind numbingly boring briefings and listen to the engineers argue anytime the tiniest adjustment is made. Most of his exposure to you is during these meetings but the first time you talk to him one on one is four weeks into the project.

That’s when he notices your particular….quirk. You’re following him out after the morning briefing, yammering away about the new wing design specs. He’s read your report in detail and already familiarized himself with the changes.

All Jake wants is a moment of silence to mentally prepare himself for today's test but you keep talking. It doesn’t help that he’s got the beginning of a headache forming behind his eyes and you’re oblivious to his attempts to cut the conversation short.

“I got it. I know how to fly a plane,” he tells you.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” you start but he cuts you off with a look.

“I’ve read your briefing packet, top to bottom. It was extremely thorough. If I have questions you’ll be the first person I ask. Scout’s honor,” he adds, giving you a sloppy half salute that seems to confuse you for a moment before you start talking again.

“I just want to make sure-“ you begin and Jake sighs, annoyed.

“I got it. Now go sit down,” he tells you curtly.

You step back back, brows raised. Jake almost misses the way your pupils dilate and your lips part just so.

"I'm sorry, Sir," you reply. "I..."You stammer and tug at the hem of your shirt before hurrying to take a seat.

You watch him from behind the computer bank as he climbs into the cockpit and fiddles with the controls. He can feel you watching him as he puts his helmet on. It’s clear to him that you want his approval, even if you don’t realize it.

Fuck, that paired with the ‘sir’ and the delicious little waver in your voice spikes his interest. He waits until you’re practically squirming in your chair before he gives you a nod. Your response is immediate, shoulders dropping and the tense lines on your face easing.

It’s not just that he makes you nervous, he’s seen that plenty of times before. No, this is different. Special. You liked it when he barked an order at you.

–

Over the next few weeks, he watches you closely, taking note of your responses to everyone you interact with. It’s clear you crave praise from others, perking up under any compliment you receive and deflating under criticism. However, it’s your response to authority that interests him most. You’ve got a natural inclination to listen to orders but as far as Jake can tell he’s the only one who elicits that type of reaction from you.

Each encounter he has with you is a chance to test the theory he has. He catalogs the difference in your responses; when he’s softer in his requests versus an outright order. Jake sees how quickly you obey a demand to sit next to him at the next briefing, just so he can be close to you. The speed you produce a new report just for him is a powerful thing. He especially loves the way you blossom under his praise when he compliments changes you've made to improve performance.

You’re smart, undeterred when the men in the room try to speak over you. Even though you’re quiet-natured, you’re no pushover either. He respects your determination and hard work.

The most telling moment is one afternoon when you’re loitering on the edge of the hanger as he finishes up his conversation with the flight chief. It’s clear you need to speak to him. The fact that you won’t interrupt him is just a bonus– something he knows from experience will translate well in the bedroom.

“Come here,” he commands, crooking a finger at you. He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to have you scurrying to him. You touch your chest and fiddle with the locket you wear, twisting the thin gold chair around your index finger. Jake’s not sure if he’s just gotten better at clocking your reactions or you’re extra affected today but whatever the reason, he’s enjoying the show.

“What do you need?” He asks.

“For you to sign the report,” you tell him, opening the folder and pointing to the highlighted portion.

When he takes the pen from you he makes sure to drag his fingertips over the back of your hand, watching for your reaction behind his aviators. The soft sound that passes your lips doesn't disappoint him. He thinks about what other sounds he could drag out of you. How he could get you desperate enough to beg him to fuck you. The way you’d sigh his name and -

“Sir?” Your soft voice snaps him out of his little daydream. You’re staring up at him expectantly. “I need my pen back, please.”

When he hands it back, you smile. It makes him long to pull you against him and kiss you breathless. To test out the limits of how well you’d listen to him but he knows he has to wait until the project is over. He’s not about to jeopardize either of your careers though as the weeks drag on he certainly finds himself fantasizing about that.

You’ve caught him staring at during the morning briefings once or twice, his chin resting on steepled fingers. It’s always the same response from you, the double blink and glance away. Sometimes you’ll bite your lips and fiddle with the pencil, tapping it in rapid succession against the table. He can feel your eyes on him too and he has to repress a smirk. These morning briefings are starting to become his favorite part of the day.

—

Two torturous months pass before the admiral visits and the project gets wrapped up. He has some innocent fun with you during that time, nothing overly mean, just enough to get you flustered and stoke the flame. His favorite form of foreplay.

The team celebrates at the Hard Deck. Alcohol flows freely and spirits are high. It turns out engineers partied harder than pilots. You only have a drink which bodes well for Jake. He needs you sober for this and wants a clear head of his own, nursing a single beer most of the night.

While he waits for an opportunity to get you alone he formulates how he wants to approach this. He doesn’t doubt his assessment. He’s rarely wrong about these things but it’s always possible you’re not completely aware of your quirk. If he embarrassed or frightened you all his waiting would be for nothing.

After another hour or so he senses his chance. You head outside to take a quick call and Jake follows. He waits at a safe distance to give you some privacy but once you slide the phone back into your jacket he makes his presence known.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” you greet. You look surprised to see him but pleased too.

“It’s Jake,” he corrects, stepping toward you.

When he presses into your space you take a half step back and then another, letting him herd you into a little alcove out of sight. You watch him curiously, maybe even a little confused. You’re not scared to be alone with him —you trust him.

“What’s up?” You’re trying for casual but failing adorably.

Jake’s close enough to touch you, but refrains from it. He won’t until he has your permission and understanding. He smirks and tits his head. A direct approach might be quicker but he’s curious if you’ll figure it out on your own.

“I know your secret, sweetheart,” he whispers.

That gets you going. You don’t seem to know where to put your hands. Nervous laughter comes next but Jake stays quiet, letting you squirm a little longer.

“My secret?” You question.

“It’s compatible with mine,” he hints.

You frown, forehead wrinkling. He recognizes the expression from countless morning briefings when you were contemplating a problem. It’s cute watching your brain work in real-time to put the pieces together. A full minute passes before your eyes dart back to his face, surprised.

He nods encouragingly and then very hesitantly you say, “Is that so, sir?”

There’s a heavy emphasis on the last word.

“Smart girl,” he praises.

You grin and rock back on your heels. “Well, I did design the aircraft you’ve been flying the last four months,” you shoot back.

He can see the struggle it is for you not to smile. You’re proud of your work and should be but he can’t have you mouthing off already.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he warns playfully, loving the way you immediately duck your head.

“Sorry, sir.”

You sound appropriately contrite and he smirks.

“Look at me.” Two fingers under your chin encourage you to meet his gaze. “I want you to be honest,” he begins, watching carefully for any sign you’re not on the same page as him. “Do you want to do this?”

“Do you mean…you mean sex, right?” You ask, looking a little unsure.

You’re so sweet that Jake slips character briefly to give you the soft smile you deserve. “Sex and more,” he confirms. “I can help you explore this side of yourself.”

“Yeah. I want that,” you tell him shyly.

“That’s good to hear, but that’s not how you talk to me, and I think you know it.”

“I want you to teach me, sir,” you respond.

“Better,” he praises.

He slides a hand up your jaw to grasp the back of your neck and angle your face upward so he can crush his lips against yours. He closes the distance between your bodies, pressing you back into the wall with a groan. You make a desperate little sound that goes right to his dick and grasp his biceps tightly.

You part your lips and fuck, he’s finally tasting you fully like he’s been imagining. He loves how soft and warm you are in his arms and the way his lips slide against yours. All of his pent-up desire is out now. The hand at your hip slides down the curve of your ass to grasp your thigh so he can grind shamelessly against you. You whimper, nails pressing into his skin. He rocks his half-hard cock into the warmest part of you, needing more friction. He wants to hear you make that little sound again too.

“Oh, please,” you gasp when you finally part.

You sound wrecked and he thinks you look it too.The skin of your face is warm to the touch and your eyes are a little glassy. Jake's half convinced you might let him have you here and for a moment he actually considers it. He knows how good that kind of messy, quick fuck can be but tonight he wants to see all of you. To spend his time taking you apart until you’re incoherent and at his mercy. He can’t do that here.

“Easy,” Jake whispers, running a hand down your back. “Look at me,” he instructs, smiling when you do. You’re trembling all over and he rubs his thumb over your swollen lips as he gazes down at you. “Catch your breath.”

Once you’re calm he lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. You’re watching him, waiting to be told what to do. “Go inside, say goodbye to your friends. Then I want you to meet me out front. Got it?”

You nod and he surges forward to kiss you one more time before stepping back to let you past him.

Fuck, tonight is going to be good he thought.

♡

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#jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader

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amongemeraldclouds · 5 months

Text

But Daddy I Love Him

Mattheo and the Slytherin boys rescue you from your father who held you captive one day before your wedding.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader ft. The Slytherin Boys

Warning: fluff, one use of y/n, cursing, the boys being chaotic. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title.

✿ Masterlist | 872 words

“Can’t this bloody car go any faster?” Mattheo asked gripping the leather seat, straining against his seatbelt as if he could steer the car faster out of sheer will.

Draco scoffed, “it’s the latest model of flying cars, of course it can. The car is not the problem.” He was insulted that Mattheo would even question the calibre of cars they kept at the Malfoy Manor. They borrowed it from his father without asking, but he didn’t think he would mind.

“We already went over this,” Theo grit his teeth, trying to hold on to the last dregs of his patience. He drove the car over the roofs of buildings and clouds blurred past them. He was going as fast as he could without compromising their safety. “If we let you behind the wheel, you will drive us all straight to a tree. You can’t have a wedding if your corpse is busy rotting in a tree, huh?”

“I’m not some foolish Gryffindor who would do that!” Mattheo argued.

Blaise sucked in his breath, tired of having to play peacekeeper. “Arguing would not get us to her any faster, okay Matty? When has Theo ever let you down?”

Lorenzo chimed in, also eager to diffuse the tension. “What’s next, mate? You just roused us all out of bed to rescue your girl the night before your wedding, what happens when we get there?”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, “I only roused Theo then Draco offered his father’s car when he overheard us. The rest of you tossers invited yourselves.”

“That’s besides the point,” Enzo continued knowing Mattheo would do the same for any of them if they ever needed help. “What’s your genius plan?”

“When we’re close enough to the estate, I’ll signal y/n. She says she has a plan to escape and we’ll swoop in as the getaway driver.”

“Sounds simple enough when you say it like that,” Enzo mused.

“But daddy I love him!” You declared, losing track of how many times you’ve had to defend your fiancé to your father.

“He’s the Dark Lord’s son-” he begins, his favorite line whenever he tried another argument to dissuade you from you marriage plans.

“Father, I’m having his baby!” You spat out, tired of his same old lines. That shut his mouth.

Your news drained the color from his face as he opened his mouth again to say something and closed it. This was going to bring shame to the family name. He was too stunned to speak.

You tried to hold it in, but burst out laughing. Your father was a man hardened by business and the ways of the world. He was not easily shaken so this reaction was priceless.

“Oh father!” You held your stomach to control your laughter. “You should see your face! I was just joking! See, there are worse things that could happen? Father, I promise this is not as bad as you think. He is nothing like the Dark Lord. He’s doing his best to be better than him.”

Your father mumbled incoherently as if holding back a string of curses. “Dear child, you will send me to my funeral! These white hairs will turn even whiter than snow.”

“Please,” you approached him, holding his hand. Trying to appeal to his affections, the way you did when you asked for a pony when you were younger. “He’s the one I want, if you could just give him a chance and get to know him.” “What about our family name? It will put us to ruin, think about us,” he responds coldly.

“I’m taking his last name, father. You won’t have to worry about that. My name is mine to do with as I please.” You were losing hope, nothing was getting through to him. You just needed to wait for the signal.

As if you summoned it by your thoughts, you saw a light flash three times and you grabbed your wand from a hidden compartment in your dress. That’s on your father for underestimating you, he couldn’t just lock you in - you were no longer his little girl. You saw the car approach the window and withdrew the wand.

“Well father, I wish you would come around. Come to the wedding tomorrow in peace, the cake is fantastic,” you bid him goodbye with those words and you cast an explosion with your wand, bricks flying and dust spraying through the air. You took one last look at your father as he stood to catch you, but you moved faster.

From the clearing that once formed the east wing of your father’s mansion, you grinned at Mattheo and your friends.

“That’s your escape plan?” Blaise broke through the silence when the car was near enough.

At the same time, Mattheo cheered, “that’s my girl!”

You shrugged, running towards them and taking Mattheo’s hand. You sat on his lap in the front seat of the car as there was no other vacant seat. But you could hardly complain at the chance to snuggle with him.

“It worked, didn’t it?” You simply said as Theo drove you away from the mansion.

Theo just chuckled and shook his head, “you two are really meant for each other.”

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I was listening to TTPD when this whole scene came to mind. It’s the fastest I've written and uploaded a fic so far.

#mattheo riddle fluff #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #amongemeraldcloudswrites #theodore nott #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #blaise zabini #ttpd #ts ttpd

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heavenlyvision · 8 months

Note

Bi-Han and a belly budge Bi-Han and a belly budge Bi-Han and a belly budge-

I have answered !! It is only minor mention of belly bulge but it is there !!! I swear :3 Bi-Han is needy and little bit mean, the horny yelled at me last night and I had to get this out of my system or I fear I might actually die,,,,, it is nothing overwhelmingly special, mostly my nonsensical horniness for my baby girl but..... ENJOY <33

Tease

Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!reader

Wc: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, belly bulge, grinding, minor edging, littlest bit of sub-zero, p in v penetration, squirting, no use of pronouns or y/n, that's all !!! <3

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

This is a unique position for the two of you, in that, Bi-Han does not usually give you control just because you asked very nicely but tonight he was feeling benevolent and when you asked him with pretty eyes if you could, he agreed… albeit begrudgingly.

Though you think he may be regretting his choice now, if his clenched jaw and general strained manner is anything to go by. His hands are held in tight fists by his sides, trying very hard to not touch you like you asked.

He’s being very well behaved, considering by now he usually would’ve lost his mind and taken you how he pleased. You think his sanity may be wearing thin though, you’ve been teasing him, edging him. His back is flat to the bed, you’re on top, straddling him. You kept your panties on just to torture him, though at this point they are completely soaked.

Your clothed cunt runs along his cock, he grits out strained groans under you, his hands struggling to not grab at you, instead tangling in the sheets and pulling at them. You’ve already eased two orgasms out of yourself like this, panties completely drenched in your slick and cum, Bi-Han’s precum smeared all over the cloth, your lower halves are messy, wet.

The friction is driving Bi-Han up a wall, every time he gets close to finishing you stop and watch his cock twitch under you, his groans frustrated and his eyes angry. He’s not going to beg you, and you don’t want him to, you just want to see how much he’s willing to put up with before he loses control. He seems patient tonight, more than usual anyway.

His dick leaks onto his stomach, you move your fingers to spread it around his tip, your hand splaying on his stomach, his skin sticky. His chest stutters under your touch, his eyes fighting the urge to roll back in his head.

He growls at you, “You’re being cruel.”

“An somehow still nicer than you,” you muse, beginning to drag your pussy along his cock again.

He huffs at you, “I disagree.”

You hum back, “Mmmm, you’re free to think what you want –hah–”

Your cunt throbs for him, soft sighs fall from your lips, your hand reaches to pull your panties to the side, your folds hugging his length. The loss of the barrier between your skin has you both moaning, your grinds becoming quicker, your wetness gushes on him completely, your underwear not in the way to catch it.

Bi-Han’s hands grip your hips, he can’t help himself, his head rolled back on the pillows, lost in the feeling.

“Not –hah– meant to –ah– touch me,” you whine out to him.

“Don’t care,” he grunts back, “Keep fuckin moving.”

You want to but now you’re feeling spiteful, your hips stop, he keeps moving you but you won’t assist, the pleasure not enough for him. He groans at you, exasperated, wound up beyond belief. You smile brightly at him and shoo his hands away; he scowls at you but relents and moves his hands back.

You lean down to him and press a kiss to his lips, you pull back and he goes to chase your lips, when he realises you aren’t going to kiss him again, he gets frustrated. Noises of displeasure leaving him, he grabs the back of your neck and presses his lips to yours harshly, his tongue immediately in your mouth, his lips are domineering. He groans into this kiss; his dick jumps against you.

He parts from you to say, “I’ve had enough.”

You don’t get to say anything, he’s rolling you both over so he’s on top, already positioning his cock at your entrance. He’s forceful, slipping himself inside despite the resistance, your cunt clamps down on him tightly and he falls forward, growls leaving him, his dick twitching violently. All the edging has made him cum just from half his length slipping inside your tight, wet, heat.

“Look what you’ve fuckin done to me,” his tone is angry and strained when he talks into your ear, genuinely annoyed that you had him finishing so soon. He’s so pent up, his dick stays hard and he fucks the rest of it into you, “Got me cumming just from your pussy being wrapped round me.”

You smile at him, proud of yourself for turning him into a sensitive mess.

He grabs the side of your face, “Shouldn’t be smiling, I’m not fuckin happy,” he grunts out before kissing you deeply, taking your breath away with his lips, your mind foggy because of him.

His hips start thrusting, the heavy drag of his fat dick fucking into you is pulling whines from your chest, his mouth leaves you, and he groans at the smug smile on your face. You’re elated at the turn of events and it’s pissing Bi-Han off.

“Stop being so damn happy bout this,” he frowns at you.

“I wan –hah– see how much more sensitive I could –ah– make you,” your legs tangle behind his back, “Maybe nex time –mmph– I tie you up –hah? So, you can keep your hands –nghh– to yourself?”

His lips twitch with annoyance but his cock jumps with excitement, “In your fuckin dreams.” His hips slam into yours harder and your eyes roll back in your head, neck lulling onto the pillows. “Just got my dick in you and you already look fucked out,” he chuckles darkly.

He leans back and rests on his knees, his hands hold your hips to him, his thrusts forceful, harsh, desperate. He’s humping into you, cock barely leaving your cunt before he’s stuffing it back in. His hand presses into your stomach and pushes down, the two of you moan at it, his dick hitting parts of you that only he touches.

“Fucken, look at that,” he groans at you. Your eyes fight to stay open and he grabs your hand, placing it under his on your stomach, “Can you feel me moving inside you –fuck–”

You hum in agreement, not capable of much else right now, “Mhm.”

His cock is bulging under your skin, moving inside you, Bi-Han keeps his eyes on it, mind fucked out and cloudy. His second release so fucking close to him, his hand presses down into your stomach harder, the sensation mind numbing, your cunt clenches on him, your whines broken and borderline sobs, tears slip from your eyes.

He’s smiling to himself, ecstatic at how tight you grip him, at how close you are, especially since he knows just how hard you’re gonna cum for him. Your pussy already creaming on him, the mess you’ve both made obscene, the wet noises of him fucking into you lewd.

“Need you to finish –nghff– need to fuckin feel it,” his voice is tense, frantic, his need is overwhelming him. He’s never fucked into you so desperately before; your edging had set his skin alight.

He humps and grinds into you a few more times before you’re cumming hard on him, thighs completely drenched with your cum, Bi-Han moans deeply at how you squirt for him, his eyes delighted. The moaned sounds you make as you cum get caught in your throat, you’re choking on sobs, cheeks tear stained.

The way you grip Bi-Han has him cumming not long after, he presses his hips tight to yours and grinds his length into you, dumping all his cum inside your cunt, his hips stutter and his moans strain.

“Pretty little thing, taking all my cum so well,” he murmurs out to you, though you’re not really present right now.

He collapses down onto you, turning you both onto your sides so he doesn’t crush you under his weight. You press a small kiss to his skin, “You should let me be in control more.”

“If I’ve learnt anything from this, it’s to not let you have any kind of control again,” he grumbles.

“Admit you liked it,” you look up at him and smile.

He does not budge, “How about next time, you let me tie you up?”

“Only if I get to tie you up first,” you counter.

He scowls at you but doesn’t disagree, too tempted by the idea of tying you up.

“Deal then,” you tease, nuzzling into his chest, this is something he has some leeway for, lucky you.

𝜗𝜚

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED, THANK YOU FOR READING <33 ILY

#ask vision #mk1 smut #smut #bi han x reader #bi han x you #bi han x reader smut #bi han x you smut #subzero x reader smut #subzero x reader #subzero smut #bi han smut #subzero x you #subzero x you smut

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chaoticbardlady99 · 9 months

Text

I Wondered if I Could Come Home? (Astarion x Pregnant F! Reader) MDNI 18+ Part 2

CW: Smut, insecurities, pregnancy sex, PIV

Tag-list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @starstruck-mj-writings @divineknightmare

Part 1 is on my Masterlist :)

This is unedited because I’m tired 😂💜

Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr

“These are all truly terrible options, Darling,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “I feel like putting anyone in this should be considered abuse.”

You try and fail to suppress the laughter- covering your mouth with your hand when another woman shoots you a glare. You should regret dragging Astarion in here, but you don’t. He’s right- this place has absolutely nothing adorable and you hate shopping here. You are very happy he shares the same sentiment.

This was an unplanned stop in the grand scheme of the evening. Astarion had insisted on taking you on a date the moment you woke up this morning. When you went to protest and say, “I look like a beached whale, no”- you were thoroughly kicked by Eowyn.

You picked the name Eowyn together a little over a month after Astarion first arrived. It’s almost month 7 now and although Astarion missed out for a few months- your daughter and him are already peas in a pod.

You disagree with Astarion? Kick. If you pick a book that doesn’t interest him? Kick. You get hormonal, angry, and Astarion sounds even slightly sad? You bet you are gonna be running to the bathroom to throw up. She’s a spiteful fucking kid and you cannot catch a break. You are the one carrying her and yet!

You suppose you can’t blame her though. You don’t want to give him any reason to leave anymore than she does. You know Astarion won’t leave again, but that worry is also silently there.

“Darling,” Astarion whispers, “come look at this atrocity.”

Astarion scrunches up his nose and picks up one of the other baby outfits. He looks at you with a “really?” and shows you a piece of fabric fashioned into a onesie with “Selune Loves Me”. You don’t even bother to suppress your snort of laughter.

“I have a horrible feeling that Shadowheart will be buying that for Eowyn,” you sigh.

“Oh no- not if I can help it!” Astarion puts the onesie back (he even folds it), “our kid is going to be a raging atheist and I will have it no other way!”

“And if she decides to be a cleric or a paladin?”

Astarion grumbles a “well that’s different” under his breath. He opens the door for you and bows dramatically as you walk through it. Astarion’s smile is brighter than the sun when you giggle.

“I’m glad you are willing to support all possible life paths, Star,” you tease.

“I will eventually convince her to change her mind,” he muses, “we’ll begin putting swords and instruments in front of her and hope she turns out better than Volo.”

You huff at him and roll your eyes. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you continued the rest of your date.

***************************

You are laying in your bed- remaining absolutely still. Astarion seems like he is still sleeping?

Whatever sick fuck keeps adding spice into your life, has gifted you an incredibley real sex dream with Astarion. Again.

You told yourself you were going to behave- certainly not because you want to. It’s out of respect for Astarion and his boundaries. You don’t know what he’s been up to or if he would even want to while you look like this.

Oh wonderful- tears.

The hardest part of this whole pregnancy nonsense is that you don’t feel good about yourself or how you look. You didn’t necessarily have the best self esteem to start with, but your body changing in front of you almost every day wasn’t helping. You know your hips have gotten slightly wider and your breasts have gotten bigger. You try to be active as much as possible so you feel some control and you eat as healthy as you possibly can without lacking nutrients, but none of it felt like enough. You feel disgusting.

Your silent tears fall down your cheeks as you suppress your pitiful sniffling. If you close your eyes, you’ll eventually fall asleep. That’s what you usually do and that’s what you did when Astarion was gone. Sleep heals everything.

Maybe your body has finally had enough of pushing all of the discomfort back. All those feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and not like yourself are ripping you apart at the seams as they rush to your eyes.

You begin to move away from Astarion- deciding it would be better for you to sit in your little rocking chair and read for a bit. There is no reason to make yourself upset over something you can’t change. Your pregnancy will be over soon enough anyhow.

“Darling?”

Astarion’s voice pierces the silence and his fingers are clinging to your shirt as if to keep you there.

You clear your throat, “yes my Star?”

“Where are you going?”

Astarion sounds incredibly worried. It’s been hard for him to see you when you are sick or when you are obviously picking yourself apart in the mirror. Astarion is constantly worrying about your vertigo and you walking around without him or Shadowheart to catch you.

You told him that his worry isn’t necessary and that you would let him know if you were feeling dizzy or like you were going to pass out. You don’t want to bring harm to yourself or your child.

“I know you know your body, Darling,” Astarion says with his shoulders slumped and a slight frown on his lips, “I have no right to tell you what you can or cannot do, but please, my Love. I just found you again. I can’t even fathom the idea of-“

Astarion had broken down sobbing, then you began to cry, and then Eowyn was kicking so you caved and promised to let him know if you were leaving the room.

You roll over to look at him and his eyebrows raise in alarm. You hastily run the tears away and smile.

“I was just going to sit on the rocking chair.”

Astarion just squints at you and you avoid his gaze- looking up out the window.

“The moon is very pret-“

“Tav, why were you crying?”

Dammit. It’s the “I’m serious” Astarion voice.

“Oh uh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “I just had an interesting dream and it led to interesting thoughts- then TADA pregnancy hormones.”

Astarion flashes you a teasing smile before ghosting his lips over yours.

“Oh I am very aware of these ‘interesting’ dreams of yours, Darling. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me to re-enact a few.”

Your heart stops momentarily and you blink a couple times. There is no way you heard that correctly. You begin to tear up and Astarion’s brows furrow in concern.

“You don’t want that,” you say in a low voice, a stray tear rolls down your cheek, “I look disgusting.”

His lips are on yours in an instance- a whimper leaves your lips as you feel a warm stirring between your legs. It’s almost embarrassing how desperately your body wants him- craves him. Being kissed like this by him again is a blessing.

“I wish you would stop trying to guess what I want when it comes to you,” he sighs against your lips, “and I wish you could see how beautiful you are- all the time.”

“My body has just changed so much- to me anyway,” you whisper, “I worry that I’m not attractive to you anymore.”

Astarion grabs your hand with his and guides you down to the front of his underwear- opening your hand so that you palm against his erection. You blush furiously when he forces your eyes to meet his with his other hand. His pupils are blown wide with lust.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you anymore?”

“No,” you whisper shyly.

“I want you desperately,” he places a chaste kiss on your lips, “As I always have.”

You feel embarrassed by the sigh of relief that leaves your mouth upon his confession. You want to be with him this way so badly it hurts. You hesitantly wrap your leg around his hip and you pull him in for a kiss.

Astarion’s lips are soft against yours. You keep a slow pace- unsure of how far he would be willing to go.

You find out pretty quickly when you feel his hands find your underwear- tearing away the fabric completely. You pout against his lips playfully.

“I liked those.”

“I’ll buy you a thousand more pairs, my Love.”

“But-“

The breath leaves your body when you feel his fingers begin to play with your clit. Astarion roughly presses the pads of his fingers against your clit- the additional friction making you keen in pleasure.

Astarion starts to pull away and your hands find purchase in his hair- pulling him back to you. Your desperation spurs him on and your lips are crashing against each other at a fast pace.

You feel him pull you back by your hair, making you look at him- you open your mouth to protest, but then you feel one of his fingers slide into you. Astarion pushes himself all the way into you with his finger until his palm is teasing your already sensitive clit. He must realize how ready you are for him because he enters a second finger and then a third shortly after.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you are intoxicating and the way he is looking at you is even more so. Your moans are on display for him to see- Astarion’s hand in your hair has yet to loosen as he finger fucks you relentlessly.

“So good, so perfect,” he says, “and I’m the only one who will ever have the pleasure of breeding you.”

Astarion’s words rip something inside of you open- you begin to clench around his fingers hard as your climax sinks into your body. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

It probably is- if you are being entirely honest to yourself. Astarion looks ethereal under the moonlight that floods the room. His curls are mussed up a bit from sleep, his lips turned upward and slightly parted as he watched you be overtaken with pleasure.

Astarion leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and moves your hair out of your face. He sits up and pulls you onto his lap and traces the veins in your neck down to your collarbones. His hands meet in the middle to unlace your shirt all while making eye contact the entire time.

“Gods,” Astarion whispers as he kisses down your chest, “you are exquisite, my Love.”

You must have forgotten what it was like to be under Astarion’s lustful hands and loving gaze. Your dreams were nowhere like this.

You whine at the skin contact and you feel yourself clench around nothing. The feeling of his cold fingers running along your skin- how they tease and pinch your sensitive nipples. Astarion’s word of praise alone are enough to get you off.

“So needy.”

Astarion takes one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth- sucking and grazing it with his fangs. His other hand begins to trail downward as grinds his erection up into your unclothed, soaking folds.

“Have you missed me, Darling?” Astarion coos, “has no one else been able to make you feel this way since I’ve been gone?”

You know exactly what he is asking.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, “because my hands are nowhere as skilled as yours.”

Astarion’s laughter fills the air and your body with joy. His hand moves to release his erection from his underwear. You gasp at the sight and your hand immediately goes downwards- you feel him growl against your breast when you swipe your finger through some of his precum.

You look down and his eyes are on yours as you put your finger between your lips, licking it clean.

Astarion moves his attention from your breasts- pulling you by your hair down to his mouth so he can taste himself on you. The other hand lines him up with your entrance before pulling you down by your hips at the same time he thrusts upward.

You see stars as Astarion grazes that perfect spot inside of you. His hands had untangled from your hair a while ago, both of his hands guiding your hips down so that you continue to take his full length.

“Astar- I’m going to- fuck,” you cry out as his fingers find your clit again.

“You are going to what, my Dear? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he says teasingly, his thrusts getting sloppier as you clench harder and harder.

“I- I,” your eyes roll in the back of your head as you pitch forward, putting your face in the crook of his neck. Your moans reverberate through the room- your voice is almost guttural from the intense amount of pleasure you are experiencing.

Astarion’s orgasm followed yours quickly- his moans coming out ragged and incoherent as he fills you to the brim with his seed.

You kiss his cheek, along his cheek bone, and then back until you are in the crook of his neck again.

“You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on,” Astarion says fondly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Star,” your blissfully fucked body relaxes against his.

You don’t remember when you began to fall asleep or when Astarion repositioned you so that you were spooning. The only thing you can recall is Astarion kissing your shoulder, neck, and behind your ear while whispering his gratitude and love for you into your skin.

#astarion x female reader #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #karlach #pregnancy #Astarion x pregnant reader #astarion x f!tav #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x f! reader #astar

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mykoreanlove · 3 months

Text

🚢

Felix nibbled on the plastic straw of his iced vanilla americano, fully absentminded to what was happening around him.

His mind was clouded with thoughts of you. No matter how hard he tried to think of something else, he always found himself wondering about you.

A couple of days ago he snuck out of the dorms and took a bus to another city - one that he used to visit often when he was younger.

He just wanted to escape, get a break from his life for once in a while.

After aimlessly wandering around the city he ended up in a crowded bar. People were heavily drinking and dancing, flirting and restricting themselves - Korean society was peculiar in that sense.

Felix grabbed a beer and stood next to the dance floor, swaying from side to side while taking it all in. He hadn’t felt this freedom for quite a while.

It didn’t take him long to see you in a crowd full of ghosts. You were dressed in a sexy red dress, your hair tied up to a loose bun with some strands framing your face. You had to be a foreigner, but he didn’t mind.

In fact, he loved your soft features and big eyes, plush lips and full curves.

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips, not wanting to get caught staring at you. Felix was a very attractive guy, which made it fairly easy to hookup or date. A glance was all it took to win a girl’s heart over.

„Hi“, he heard you say out of the blue. He was too caught up in his thoughts to notice how you had come up to him, approaching him shyly.

„Hi“, he coyly answered.

„Do you speak English?“

Felix grinned contently - you had no idea who he was.

„Yeah, I do.“

Your smile grew wider as you conversed with him, topics ranging from traveling to music. Felix enjoyed the conversation a lot, in fact he needed more of it.

„Hey, do you want to go outside?“

You nodded and followed him through the crowd.

„So“, he shyly run his fingers through his dark hair as he kept smiling at you.

„Sooo…“, you answered expectedly.

„Let’s go for a walk?“

Felix chuckled as he thought back to that night. He wouldn’t have dared to imagine meeting someone like you. Beautiful, smart, witty - and totally unaware of who he was, actually liking him for him.

„Lix, mate, what are you chuckling about?“

„It’s y/n…“, he confessed.

„Oh, still replaying your sexy one night stand?“, Chan grinned in amusement.

Felix blushed and hid his face, unable to hide his excitement.

„It’s just.. I met her and we talked. And then we talked some more. And then we went back to the club and I just couldn’t help myself. I kept staring into her beautiful eyes and every cell just screamed at me. Kiss her. Kiss her, you idiot. Now! So I did that. And then she kissed me back and then we left and went to her place and you know…“

„No, I wasn’t there. I don’t know. Please enlighten me, Felix“, Chan teased him.

„Ah, it’s just.. I can’t stop thinking about her body. Her beautifully shaped body. And her hips. How I loved grabbing her hips. And her ass. Oh god, Channie, I slapped her ass every chance I could get“, he confessed shyly.

„I’m proud of you“, Minho commented from the back of the room.

Felix turned around quickly, even more embarrassed now.

„Since when are you here?“, he asked quickly.

„Just entered. Heard about y/n’s ass. Perfect timing, I’d say“, he mused.

Felix hid his face in his hands, unable to continue his story.

„Lix, it’s alright. Nothing to be ashamed of. Continue. What’s so special about her?“

„I kind of lost myself in her. I had no control of my body anymore. My lips were either glued to her boobs, or lips. My dick fell in love with her pussy. And my hands were roaming her body. I couldn’t think about anything else, all I wanted was to make her feel good.“

„Well, did you?“

Felix nodded, cheeks slightly red.

„And I really wanted to talk to her more and get to know her. But I was so tired, so I fell asleep. While holding her. The whole night. Spooning, cuddling, kissing, sucking - oh god that was probably the best restless sleep I ever got.“

Minho chuckled in amusement, it was a long time since he heard Felix speak about a woman like that. His hookups were usually just that, hooking up.

„And when we woke up the next day, we kind of continued where we had stopped. And it was even better. This had to be the best sex I ever had. And the funny thing is, she even didn’t do that much. Just her being her made me go feral. I can’t imagine what would happen if she actually took the lead..“, Felix daydreamed.

„Huh? Was she just laying there like a starfish?“, Minho interrogated.

Felix shook his head quickly.

„No, of course not.“

„What did she do, then?“

Felix sighed deeply, not knowing if he should really share all of this.

„Min, I think he’s uncomfortable sharing. So, just drop it“, Chan intervened.

Minho had another idea, though.

„Was she playing with your hair? Was she telling you how handsome you are? Was she sucking your dick? Was she massaging your balls?“

He paused after every question, observing Felix’ cheeks turning redder and redder.

„Was she riding you? Deliciously circling her hips while gazing at you? Was she sucking on your neck? Biting your lips with every other kiss?“

His cheeks, once blush, turned rosé.

„Was she playing with your nipples? Groping your little tushy? Moaning into your ears, as you slid deeper and deeper into her? Was she wrapping her legs tightly around your hips?“

Dark red. Bingo.

„Sounds like she did a lot, Lix“, he laughed manically.

Once again, he was confronted with flashbacks from that night. He shifted in his chair, growing uncomfortable while thinking about you like that.

„So, what happened after? You just said goodbye?“

Felix nodded sadly.

„I had to go back. She is still in the country for some time but I don’t know if I should contact her again.“

„You haven’t?“, Chan asked surprised.

Felix shook his head ashamed, head facing down.

„She reacted to a story of mine and I answered her briefly, but that was it. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to contact her again.“

„Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?“

He looked up with doe-eyes.

„I could fall in love?“

Minho cracked up behind him, holding his belly from laughing so hard.

Felix turned around and looked at him puzzled.

„Fall in love? I’m sorry but don’t you think that ship has already sailed?“

Felix swallowed hardly while thinking about this.

Has it?

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garoujo · 1 year

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✩ ˛˚ . GEPARD LANDAU ; — secret makeout sessions with the silvermane captain are a good way to pass the time when you miss him.

warnings: f!reader, rly just makeout sessions. note: don’t mind the characterisation rn i just wanted to write something short to give it a try ! i wanna write more for star rail tho snifle <3 maybe some dan heng / blade / jing yuan next :<

“i’m..” gepard begins before its cut off again as he swallows your next dreamy exhale, his brows furrow and he can feel the sting of his own deep blush — the impact you have on him far too severe for him to even consider trying to swallow it down. “..i’m on duty.”

his words are fumbled when he finally manages to push them out but they’re barely audible with the way his mouth still moves messily with yours, pushed into some darkened alley after he’d coincidentally came across you shopping in the city.

“but you said you’d walk me home, captain~” the title is a slow drawl that makes gepard almost whimper when it’s accompanied with the saccharine press of your chest against his broad one. as much as he can’t feel the press of your skin against his own, he remembers it — and that makes him yearn for it even more as his hands wrap around your waist with the next languid lav of his tongue along your own.

“it is my responsibility when you’re looking so..” breathtaking, is what he means to say but the clouded, starry-eyed look you send him as you pull away to breathe only has him pulling you back in for more. so he lets his hands, his movements — say what he needs and he knows you understand when he feels your arms wrap around his armoured shoulders, caging him against the brick wall behind you both as he grabs steadily at your hips.

you’re intoxicating, embarrassingly so that the silvermane captain can’t focus on anything else except the way you kiss him. your fingers smooth just under the hem of gepard’s jacket, enough to graze teasingly along the skin of his abdomen and he wants nothing more than to chase more of your touch as he exhales against your lips.

he did have a small break before his next assignment, one that he knows he’d love to spend wrapped in you when he feels you lick into his mouth needily — pushing your name between his lips even though it’s always on his mind and suddenly he feels too warm underneath his armour, even in the eternal freeze he’s sure you’d have him overheating.

gepard’s hand squeezes at your waist, making you pull away to blink up at him and your gaze is hypnotising despite the way it makes him want to look away — flushed to his chest with his usual pristine uniform mused by your hands. but he can’t help the way his lips part to growl immediately when he feels you lean back into press cute kisses along his jawline, trailing down the sensitive spots you’ve mapped out on his neck as he tries so hard to retain his self control that seems to drain away with every press of your lips.

the city is just to his left but you’re in his arms and he can’t find it in himself to care despite the position he’s in right now, the captain of the silvermane guards turning to putty for his sweet little girlfriend in some random ally. but it’s too tempting when your kisses trail back to his lips and it’s almost instinct the way he so easily switches your positions, his need making his ears ring as he presses you into the hard surface he occupied a few moments ago — kissing you so deeply you have to rely on his to keep you upright, because you know he always will.

“it—uggh, it shouldn’t be too much trouble for me to pick up my duties later.. i have something else to see through first.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#gepard x reader #gepard x you #gepard fluff #gepard landau x reader #gepard landau x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fluff #star rail x reader

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cloudwhisper23 · 10 months

Text

BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!

Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!

Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.

But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?

Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.

It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.

“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.

“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”

“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”

“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“

“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”

“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”

“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”

“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.

Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“They just hurt. All the time.”

“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.

“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he…” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”

“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”

“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.

Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.

“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.

Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”

“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”

“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.

Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”

“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.

Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”

Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”

“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.

“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.

“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”

“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”

“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”

“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.

“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.

Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”

It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.

But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.

“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.

Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”

“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”

“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.

“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.

Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“

“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.

Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.

“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.

Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.

“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”

Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.

“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.

Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.

“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.

Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.

“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”

“It’s okay, Mike-“

Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.

“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.

“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.

A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.

“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.

Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.

“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”

“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.

“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”

That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”

Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’

“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.

“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.

It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.

Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”

“Maybe your uncle could help?”

“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.

Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.

“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.

“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”

Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”

“Help me up?” Michael asked.

Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.

“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.

“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.

“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”

Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”

“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”

Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”

“The blood.”

“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”

“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.

Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”

“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”

“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”

“Such as?”

“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”

“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.

He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”

Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”

“It seems as though I failed…”

“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.

Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.

“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.

Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.

“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.

“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”

Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”

“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.

“It’s no big deal…”

“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”

Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”

“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.

Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.

Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”

Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.

Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.

“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”

Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”

“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”

“Still…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”

“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.

Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”

“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.

“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”

“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”

“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.

“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”

No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.

Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”

“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”

“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”

“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“

“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”

“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”

“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”

“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”

Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.

Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.

Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.

“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”

“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”

“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”

“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.

“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.

Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.

“Gregory-“

But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.

Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”

“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.

“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”

“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.

Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”

Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”

“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”

The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”

Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.

Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”

Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”

“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.

“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.

Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.

“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.

Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.

“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”

Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.

“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.

“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”

Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.

“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”

Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.

He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.

“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”

“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.

Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.

Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”

“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”

Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”

I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.

It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.

Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”

“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”

Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”

“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.

Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.

Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”

Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”

Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.

Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.

Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.

His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.

He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.

Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.

“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”

Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”

“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”

“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”

“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.

The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”

A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”

Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.

“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”

Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”

Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”

“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.

Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.

“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.

Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”

“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”

“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”

“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”

“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”

“Your motorcycle is cool though.”

Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”

“Can you take me on it sometime?”

The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”

“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“

“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”

“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”

Gregory flinched at that. “I…”

“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”

Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”

“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”

“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”

“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.

Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”

“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”

“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”

“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”

“It’s better than I remember.”

Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”

“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”

Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”

“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“

“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”

Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”

“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”

Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”

“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“

“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”

“A task?” Gregory asked.

“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”

“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”

“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”

“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“

“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”

“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.

“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.

“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”

“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”

Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.

“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”

He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”

“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”

“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.

When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.

“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“

“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”

“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”

“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”

Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”

“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”

“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.

What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.

When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”

“Better than a dry brush.”

Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.

Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.

“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.

“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.

Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”

“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”

“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”

Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.

Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.

Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.

“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.

“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.

“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.

Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”

“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”

“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”

“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.

Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.

“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”

“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”

“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”

“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”

“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”

“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.

“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.

Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“

“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”

Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”

“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.

“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.

“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.

“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”

“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”

“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.

“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”

“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”

“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”

“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.

“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”

Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.

“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.

“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly. “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”

“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.

“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”

“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”

“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.

“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.

“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.

“Oh, shut up.”

Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”

“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”

“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”

Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”

“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”

“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”

“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”

Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.

“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”

“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”

“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.

Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.

Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”

“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”

Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.

Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”

“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”

“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”

Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”

Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”

“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”

Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.

They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.

“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.

Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”

“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.

“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”

“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”

Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”

Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.

“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.

He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.

“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”

Evan grinned, and so, the game began.

Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.

It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.

“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”

Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.

“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.

“Eight feels thicker than seven.”

“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.

“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”

“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.

“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”

“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”

“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”

They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.

Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.

The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.

“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.

Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.

“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.

“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”

“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.

“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”

“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.

“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”

He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.

“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.

“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”

“But why?”

“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”

“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”

“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.

“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.

“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”

“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.

Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.

“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”

“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”

“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”

Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”

Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.

Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”

“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”

“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.

“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”

“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.

“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.

“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.

“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”

“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”

“Yes please.”

“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.

“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”

“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”

Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”

All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”

“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.

Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”

Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.

“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.

“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”

Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.

“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.

Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”

Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”

The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.

Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.

He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.

It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.

Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.

“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.

“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.

“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.

Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”

Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”

The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.

Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.

Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.

Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.

“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.

“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.

“I can help him with it,” Michael said.

“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“

“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.

Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.

“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.

Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”

Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.

“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.

“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.

Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”

“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”

“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”

Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.

That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”

Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.

Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”

Henry frowned but he said nothing.

Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”

“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.

“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.

“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”

“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”

“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”

“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”

“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”

Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“

“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”

“I have?”

Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.

A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.

He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.

When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”

“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.

Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”

“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.

Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.

450 notes · View notes

bloody-peach · 8 months

Text

Eat Me, Drink Me (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x F!Reader smut fic)

(Gif made by me, original image found on google images)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution, Marilyn Manson - Blood Honey

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, drugs (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, drinking, dom Vox, bottom Y/N, vanilla stuff around the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

A/N: Yep, had to make some smut with Vox now, didn't I? Welp, here ya go! I would recommend listening to the recommended songs while reading this, to get into the atmosphere. Headphones required, just for added experience. ENJOY!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk

~~~♡♡♡~~~

You left the Hotel, exhausted. You had to deal with Niffty trying to kill new guests, Angel Dust’s bullshit with Cherri Bomb, and Husk drinking his life away on top of all the other duties you had there. But the worst of the worst was Alastor, he always loved to torment you and make you suffer or feel scared. Even now as you walk further away from the building, you could still hear his laugh deep in your mind. At least you were able to leave for the night, but you always felt like someone was watching you. Someone....much more powerful than you.

Vox, the TV Demon, has had his eye on you for some time, ever since he caught you on the hotel’s TV commercial. He remembers pausing the clip when it froze on you and he’d jack off, just imagining of what he could do to you. He was obsessed. And he decided that tonight was the night.

You kept walking when you heard electricity buzzing. You looked and it was just a broken neon sign, but it still left you uncomfortable. You kept walking, but the buzzing came back. You started to quicken your pace to try to escape the noise or the potential source of it, but it just kept following you, even when you started to run. You then run into a brick wall, realizing you must’ve turned a wrong way while you ran. You just turned with your back against the wall, unable to escape. You saw a glowing blue square in the dark along with small blue zaps of electricity spreading through the area. Soon, the thing came closer to reveal it was Vox, the overlord that controlled the masses through the visual media. You had never met him before, but you felt a sense of dread, thinking this was another guy just like Alastor. Once he came close to you, he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin'.” You sigh in mild annoyance and say, “Look, I just...Alastor already torments me. If you just want to make my life a living hell like he does, then don’t bother. I don’t need another demon doing it too.” You didn’t have anything against him in particular, you were just too stressed out to deal with another demon who wanted to watch you suffer.

Vox’s red eyes flickered with a mix of confusion, then it turned to deep-seated rage. “Alastor...” he snarled. He controlled himself and then looked at you, with a slightly annoyed look in his face. “Is that why you were running? Because of that radio trash?” He put his hands behind his back, and said, “You know I’m not like him, right? I ain’t the type to get off to torturing folks. Well, not much at least. But you’re different.” He smiled as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “I don’t want to see you suffer, Y/N. I...well, i’m not entirely sure what I want with you.” He looked a little sheepish, an emotion you didn’t expect from him, but he quickly fixed himself and played with a strand of your hair. “But I do know I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

You wondered why he knew your name, but then another thought came to mind. “Wait...you know Alastor?” He then chuckled, saying, “Do I know him? I wish I didn’t. That motherfucker and I go way back. Can’t stand him, frankly. He’s all about radio and all that outdated shit, but me? I’m all for anything new, as you can see.” He then petted your head. “Has he been giving you a hard time? Of course he would, he always enjoys that kind of shit. You poor thing.” His gaze softened as you put your head down, your expression full of fear and sadness, due to those traumatic memories. Vox gently grabbed your chin and brought your head up to look at him, saying with an unusual tenderness, “I promise you, Y/N, I ain’t like that. I can be...different. If you’d let me.”

You got the sense that he seemed to care for your struggles, but you’ve been in Hell for a long time. Very rarely have you encountered a person who actually cared about anyone. The only ones you knew of were Charlie and Vaggie, and out of all of Hell, that’s saying something. How can you trust what this man was saying? How can you be sure he isn’t out to hurt you or take advantage of you?

You look away from him, your face still holding that sad expression. “I want to believe you, but...how do I know you’re not just manipulating me? This is Hell, after all. Hard to find a genuine soul around here.” Vox sighed, the sound of static echoing through the alleyway. His eyes held a look of understanding, a flash of empathy. “Can’t say I blame ya for thinkin’ that way,” he admitted. “This place isn’t exactly known for its honesty.” He petted your head again, this time almost touching his forehead on yours, his voice going soft. “I don't know if I can promise you heaven, Y/N. But what I can promise you is that I ain’t here to make your life more miserable than it already is.” He then extended his hand, a smile on his face, “How about we try something? No tricks, no manipulation. Just you and I. See where it goes.”

You think about it. Well, he did seem pretty convincing, and whatever he had to offer had to be much better than what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

You sigh and say as you shake his hand, “Ok.” Vox’s screen lit up with a cheerful grin as he felt your hand in his, the cool electricity sparking between your fingers. “That’s more like it, Y/N!” He said as he shook your hand. He let go of your hand and stepped back with a flourish. “Now let’s get outta this dump. If we’re gonna be...whatever we are, we might as well do it in style.” He then had an idea, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How about we head to my place? The entertainment district ain’t much, but it beats this shithole any day.” His usual cocky smile returned, the light of his screen casting a glow around the alley. “Besides, I’ve got the best view in Hell. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.” You smile, liking the idea. “Ok, that sounds real nice.”

You end up following him to his place and you’re amazed at how luxurious it was. Expensive furniture, so clean you could eat off of the floor, and a couch in front of a large window, showing the hellish night sky. You look out the window and he could see your eyes sparkle with delight as you marveled his abode. “Wow...you can see all of Hell from up here!” He chuckled as he crossed his arms, finding your joy adorable. He could get used to making you this happy. “Told ya, didn’t I? Best view in Hell.” He strode over to join you by the window, his eyes looking down at the fiery grounds below. “You get a good look at this place, you realize it ain’t all that bad. Got its charms, don’t it?” You turn to him and you nod. He turns to look at you, a genuine smile lighting up his screen. “Glad you like it, Y/N. Hopefully it makes your whole...situation a bit more bearable.” His gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer before he turned away to the bar, his screen showing an unclear emotion. “Now, how ‘bout a drink? I got a stash of the finest bourbon in all of Hell. Helps take the edge off.” “A drink sounds great. Thanks.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that you were slowly starting to warm up to him. “One helluva drink, coming right up!” As he grabs the bottle of bourbon, he then had a thought. He sat the bourbon down and dug out a small vial from the inside of his tux. It was a bottle of Valentino and Velvette’s ‘Love Potion’, an aphrodisiac they were collaborating on. Val gave him a bottle as a gift, but he never thought of using it. But knowing what Y/N had been going though day by day, dealing with that radio fucker’s bullshit all the time, he figured that maybe you needed a little something to help you relax, to feel pleasure and bliss instead of pain and fear. It’s not a betrayal of your trust if there’s good intentions behind it, right?

He pours the potion into the bourbon and mixed it, making sure Y/N wasn’t looking. “This stuff’s got a kick like a mule, but it’s smooth. Just like me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and he hears her giggle along with it. Oh, how he adored that laugh and how he hoped that once his plan worked, he would hear more of it, along with other lovely sounds. Once he poured a glass for himself, he brought the glasses to the couch, giving you the tainted drink and offering you to sit on the couch with him. You couldn’t help but blush a tiny bit from how he looked, the way he was sitting, offering you to join him in a moment to yourselves. You sat next to him, a bit shy, but soon relaxing in the couch. Vox raised his glass, the light from his screen reflecting from the swirling liquor. “To new beginnings, Y/N. May they be as interesting as the journey here.” With that, you both clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing through the room as you both take a long sip, his eyes never leaving you. Luckily, you didn’t notice his gaze as you downed the drink completely.

You could handle bourbon pretty well, that’s pretty much what Husk served at the bar usually, but never as high quality as this. “Man, this stuff is really good. Sweeter than any other bourbon I’ve had.” ‘Yeah, that’s the love potion that’s doing that,’ Vox thought in his head. He smirks, watching you enjoy the drink. His heart pounded in his chest, light flicks of static on his screen due to anticipation. “Glad ya like it, Y/N. It’s a special brand, adds a bit of sweetness to the usual burn. Perfect for those wanting to unwind.” He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, seeing you this relaxed and comfortable in his presence, even if it was artificially manufactured. He knew it must’ve been a rare sight, one he’d yearned to see for a while now.

He finishes his drink, sitting his empty glass on the coffee table. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” He asks, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. As he asked that, you started to feel a change in your body. You started to feel way more relaxed, your mind beginning to feel a bit hazy. You weren’t sure why; maybe the bourbon was that good. Your body started to feel hot and you could feel a throbbing feeling between your legs. “I...I’m not sure...I...I feel kinda funny...” you say, your voice slightly slurred. Vox’s smirk widened, his eyes glowing with a devilish delight. “Oh, it’s just the effects of the bourbon, darlin’. Besides, you’ve been so stressed out, you haven’t had any time to just sit and relax.” He moved closer, his hand lightly tracing a line up your arm, causing you to shiver. “Just relax and enjoy the ride, Y/N. I promise it’ll be one hell of a time.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?” You feel your face grow even warmer as he started to pull you closer to him, his face so close to yours. “I..I guess so... You are a lot nicer than Alastor..” Vox chuckled, the sound low and rich in his throat. “Well, that’s the highest praise i’ve ever heard.” His hand rested on the small of your back, his fingers tracing small circles against your shirt. “I told ya, didn’t I? I ain’t like him. Not one bit.” He tilted his screen down, his glowing eyes meeting your slightly dilated ones. “Just relax, my dear. Let ol’ Vox take care of ya. You won’t regret it.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips against your forehead softly, something you were confused on how that worked, but that thought flew away like all the others. “Just trust me, Y/N. I won’t let ya down.”

In what your mind could come up with, as you stared at him and as he spoke with you, the thought of letting him take the wheel was starting to sound really good and you figured that it was better to trust him than anyone else in Hell. At least for now. “Ok..” Vox’s screen lit up with a triumphant grin, his red eyes glowing with delight. “That’s my girl,” he purred, his hand tightening around your waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He whispered against your lips, “You're so cute, Y/N. Just keep relaxing. There’s no need to fight it.” His other hand started explore, trailing down your body to rest on your thigh. His fingers squeezed gently, a small spark of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to moan. He knew your body was growing more sensitive by the minute. He pulled back, his screen displaying a smug smirk. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy the good feelings. Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’ll take good care of you.”

His hand continued its exploration, trailing up your thigh to rest on your hip. He dug his fingers into your flesh, pulling you even closer against him. His screen returned to your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so responsive, sweetheart. It’s...intoxicating.” He leans in to your ear, his screen barely touching it. “I’m here. There’s no need to be scared.” His touch felt so good, all you wanted in that moment was for him to touch you more. “Ok,” you said. Vox chuckled, his eyes glowing with anticipation. “That’s what I like to hear, Y/N.” His hand slid up from your hip, tracing a path up your side and under your shirt. His fingers curled around your breast, squeezing gently, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. “You’re so sensitive, darlin’. It’s so sweet.” His other hand slid down, resting on your thigh once more. He pulls your leg around him, positioning himself between your legs. He then starts to slowly strip you of your clothes. You were getting really hot, so it was a relief to get all those clothes off. Soon, you were completely nude before him, on full display. Vox’s eyes roamed your naked form, a low buzz rumbing from his chest. “Damn, Y/N. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” His hands traced over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He savored every moan and gasp, his touch sparking bits of static wherever he touched. He leaned in, his lips against your neck. “I'll make you feel all kinds of good, baby...”

His hand slid down, tracing a path down your body to rest between your thighs. His fingers teased your folds, a spark of static making you gasp. “That’s it, Y/N, just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. He then moved his face to you and kissed you deeply. You kissed back just as deep, moaning in his mouth as you felt his fingers slowly slip into your pussy. Vox groaned into the kiss, his fingers going deeper into you. He savored your moans, the taste of you on his screen intoxicating. He pulled back, a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me.” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp. His other hand was busy teasing your nipple, pinching and twisting it until you were writhing in his arms. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you...”

With that, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervor that left you breathless. You moaned more, the pleasure growing in intensity, “Ahh..mm..ohh..” Vox grinned and moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The combination of him working on your pussy and playing with your breast had you crying out, your body trembling in his arms. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Go ahead and cum for me, baby girl.” It’s not too long until you cum, covering his hand in your juices as your body tensed up.

Vox growled, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he felt you release all over his hand. His fingers slowed, gently stroking you through your orgasm. He slowly removed his hand and marveled at the wetness on it, licking it up until his hand was clean. “You taste so good, darlin’. So good..” His hand moved up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “You alright, Y/N?” You were there, still somewhat dazed from your orgasm. But there was one thought going through your head. “I...I...more...I need more...please...” Vox chuckled, “Needy little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from done with ya.” With that, he gently laid you down on the couch, his screen and his body hovering over you. “You ready for more, Y/N?” “Yes...please...I need it...” Vox’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Good girl, ” he purred. You see him take his jacket and pants off, revealing his hard and erect cock. You just sat there, amazed by its size. Could an overlord have a cock that big? Vox smiled, saying, “You like what you see?” He gave his cock a few strokes, pre-cum leaking from the tip. “It’s all for you, baby girl.”

With that, he lined himself up with your entrance, his hands holding your thighs gently. He slowly pushed himself inside you, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. “Fuuck...that’s it, baby... take it in deep..” Once he was fully inside you, he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. You gasp and moan in pleasure as he thrusts into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the pleasure consume you. Vox felt a wave of pleasure hit him as he felt your arms go around him. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out.” His thrusts picked up in pace, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you. His hand moved down, his fingers slowly rubbing your clit. “You’re so tight, darlin’. So fucking good..” With that, he picked up the pace, his cock pumping in and out of you. “Ahh..ohh..V..Vox...i..it feels so good...” you moaned, causing Vox to grin. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” He continued his assault on your pussy, pounding into you so much that you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how many times you came, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Vox to keep fucking you.

“Gahh, fuck yeah...gotta get even deeper...” He then stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, flipped you onto your belly, and grabbed your hips. “Hold on tight, Y/N. It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He lined himself up with your entrance once more, pushing inside you with a single thrust. He quickly sped up his thrusts, making you a moaning mess. “Ahh..oohh..yes...yes..I...I love it... I love your cock...!” Vox grinned a prideful smile, proud of the fact he was causing you to lose yourself just from his dick. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby. I fucking love it.” It’s not too long til he could feel his climax coming, and he felt your walls flutter, meaning yours was coming too. “Cum for me again, Y/N. Let it out.” “Ahh..mm..V..Vox..! Please cum in me..! Please..! Fill me up with your cum! I can’t take it anymore..!” Vox growled, your pleas of ecstasy driving him further over the edge. “You ready, baby girl? Ready for me to fill you up? I’ll do it, but only on one condition. You belong to me from now on. You like that?” “I..I’ll do it! I’ll only belong to you, Vox! Please, fuck me!” Vox smiled, thrusting even more. “Alright, darlin’. Here it comes...!” With one final, powerful thrust, Vox released inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. “That’s it, baby..Take it...take it all..” You cum at the same time he does, feeling his cum filling up your womb. You cry out in pure pleasure, your body riddled with pleasure. It was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Vox kept thrusting, but he started to slow down, letting you both ride your orgasms for as long as possible.

Once everything was done, he pulled out of you and marveled at the cum-covered mess your pussy had become. He smiled, and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You did amazing, baby.” He brushed a strand of hair away and he looked at you, a bit concerned since you were so quiet, “You okay, Y/N? Do you need anything?” You turned to him and he was amazed at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes looked so full of joy and bliss, and your smile was so warm and genuine. You could almost cry if you saw it for yourself. He felt his heart flutter when he saw that. Yeah, he made the right choice.

You hug him and rest your head on his chest. “I love you so much...”

Time stood still for a moment for Vox when he heard those words. He hoped that he would hear those words come out of your lips towards him, and seeing and hearing it now, it filled his heart with joy. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He let out a quiet chuckle, his screen pressing against the top of your head. “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I feel exactly the same, baby girl.” He gently waves his hand and summons a wisp of smoke around your neck and along his hand, it soon turning into a collar with a chain leash, him gently gripping onto the chain. You now belonged to him, permanently. And he wasn’t gonna let just anyone touch you like he just did.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing rhythm. “Just rest now, Y/N. Vox has got you.” You let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms, forgetting about the world and any worries you had. Vox cleaned you up and carried you to his bed, laying you on it then entering it himself. He pulls you close, letting the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart lull him to sleep.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

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