#i thought maybe for once things would work out nicely for me but clearly that was a bit of a reach

[kissforyouu]

I LOVE YOUR TITTIES BECAUSE THEY PROVE I CAN FOCUS ON TWO THINGS AT ONCE !

pairing : bf!jungkook x reader

genre : established relationship

warnings : boobs boobs boobs BOOBS !!! massive boob kink idk everything boobs :P

request : hii, can i ask for something like my bf wont stop touching me but instead of her butt make it her breast? only if ur up to it <3

note : I FINALLY POSTED A FIC R YALL HAPPY WOOO. hope u like dis :D

unedited.

bf!jungkook who's had some sort of a hyperfixation on your tits ever since you both had sex for the first time.

he would always take the chance if it meant he'd get to look or touch your tits.

you walk around your living room with your broom as you swept the floor. jungkook was comfortably seated on the sofa, manspreading as he consumed whatever that was on the tv. you sweep around the sofa, poking the broom under the sofa to check for any trash thats possibly left under it. deciding that that wasn't enough, the place the broom carefully so that it's laid against the sofa, you get down on your knees.

this action catches your boyfriend's attention, his eyes shifting from the tv to you in the matter of a second. you don't notice though. you sit properly on your knees, slightly raising your body up a little so that you could tie your hair up in a messy bun. jungkook licks his lips, fully infatuated by you. but the moment you bend forward to peep under the sofa, that's when he loses his mind. your tits were peaking out of your shirt oh so clearly. he could see the swell of your tits and the thin layer of sweat covering them.

your boyfriend smirks, "thanks for the nice view."

your boyfriend was a little perverted. okay, a lot maybe. only for you though. he always made you wear those see through lace tank tops at home. he'd buy all the cute tank tops to make your tits look pretty and squeezed against one another. not like you minded. you loooveeedddd getting spoiled. plus, free clothes. who would say no? he would always find a way to grope your tits at any moment. but not in public though. that was weird.

jungkook's back was resting against the headboard of the bed as he typed away on his computer. some work matters, you thought. you looked at your boyfriend who was so focused on whatever document he was typing. his eyebrows were furrowed and he was also doing that thing he did whenever he was frustrated--his tongue was poking his cheek.

you slide under the covers, scooting next to your boyfriend and gently lifting his arm up so that you could go under it and lay on his lap while his arm rested on your body while typing. you do just that, your head now resting on his lap while you stared at whatever he was typing on the computer.

minutes pass by, jungkook's hand was comfortably laying on top of your clothed tits. he tapped his fingers on the fat of your right breast, mindlessly pressing onto the flesh finger by finger in a pattern. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, index finger, middle finger, ring finger—

and of course you expected it, it didn't take him any longer before he slid his hand inside to pull out your right tit. jungkook's entire hand envelopes the fat, squeezing it tightly. his touch was very warm, you didn't mind. you squirm in your spot, shifting your position once jungkook switches to your other tit, pulling out the flesh out of your top.

he had no intentions of doing anything sexual after, just wanted to fondle with your tits. maybe he'll suck them if you behaved well. but you couldn't control the growing wetness in your pussy, already wetting your panties. you mewl a little once he twists your nipple in between his fingers, and that's when he notices.

"is my girl getting horny?"

before sleep, he always made sure to give your tits a few kisses. and sometimes (most of the time), they turned into a little more.

"ah...mh, mh, hm" you hum in utter satisfaction, eyes shut while enjoying the pure bliss you're getting from your boyfriend's skillful tongue.

he swirls his tongue around your nipple, eagerly lapping on the hardened bud. jungkook's eyes never left your tits as he made out with the hardened buds, making you feel sooooo good.

"please. don't stop." you whimper out while caressing your boyfriend's hair. his hair smelt exactly like yours, since he started using your godly vanilla shampoo. you just wanted to bury your face in his hair. you massaged his scalp good, had him moaning and groaning into your tits.

he pulled back for a moment to look at his little artwork. you had his saliva all over your tits, making them glisten under the dim light in the room. jungkook spits on your tits again, then spreads it around using the tip of his tongue. it was so nasty. he licks around your areola with the very tip of his tongue, then envelopes your nipple again. he teasingly bites it, causing you to let out a small yelp. he flicks your nipple with his tongue while it was inside of his mouth and pulls away to return back with another harsh suck.

"that feel good?", his fingertips were pressed onto your waist as he smothered his face all over your tits (literally). you could feel the tip of his tongue glide all over your chest and his cheeks pressing onto the flesh of your breath. it was nasty. the saliva on your chest was no longer just there but also on his face as he hungrily inhaled your breasts in and consumed them for the full extent. he was so so so erotic.

jungkook kisses you until you run out of breath while his fingers pinched your nipples hard, twisting them with intentions of causing you pain sexually. you wince. god, you feel your body twitching. your pussy's so wet. clenching on absolutely nothing. it was so evident. the wet patch on your panties. the way your panties hugged your pussy so tightly, the slick was coating the thin material so nicely. the way it hugged your pussy drove jungkook crazy. the material was so tight that it perfectly made out the shape of your chubby pussy.

he cups your breasts with both of his hands, squeezing them till the worlds end. this was supposed to be a comforting moment where he just fondled your breasts before sleep. but now you're grinding against eachother like horny freaks.

another thing that got him so riled up was the cute gold "J" necklace he got you that you would wear. he loved the way it sat on your cleavage, right in between your breasts. he liked it even better when the cute lace tops you got him squeezed your breasts together and the sparkly J initial sat in between the soft pillows. it drove him craaaazy, actually. jungkook always made you ride him when you looked like that.

"jus' like that, baby, hm", his head was slanted against the headboard of you guys' bed, eyes dazed, but still looking at your breasts. you rode his dick till dawn, up and down, up and down.

one of your tits were out of your tight, lace see-through bra and molded into jungkook's palm. he squeezed the flesh in his palm while you made circles on his dick. his tip was hitting the exact right spot that drove you crazy, and it had you twitching on spot.

your boyfriend leans in to lick your hardened clothed nipple of the neglected breast, tugging on the nipple and wetting the lace as well. it was just a big wet smudge on your right tit.

he was like an animal when it came to fucking you. he would pull up with the nastiest ways to have you. jungkook had no shame. his hips raise upwards as he thrusted from below, overtaking your slow ass pace.

"m—mm, hah! please, so fast...!", your tongue was out, panting, and so was his. instead his was licking a stripe from all the way from your stomach, up your cleavage to your lips. he kicked your messily, both of you exchanging saliva to one another in your mouths, passing it around like a football. he tugs on your nipple, harshly pulling it and twisting the bud.

that hurt, obviously.

jungkook pulls away from the kiss and rests his back against the headboard again, still thrusting into you though. at this point both of your tits were out of your bra, jumping up and down, putting on a show for his attention.

you notice the way he moans while eyeing your tits. his eyes travel to the gold necklace in between after, the J necklace that you treasure so much.

"looks so fuckin' hot between those pretty titties. you keep this on all the time, yeah? makes you look prettier when i fuck you, babydoll." he kisses your shoulder blade, trailing kisses to your neck. wrapped around your neck was the gold chain, and jungkook lolls his tongue out to trace the metal chain. he tugs on the chain with his teeth, pulling on it with a groan.

you were getting so tired from jumping on his dick. the more you rode him, the closer you got to your release. jungkook let go of your chain, but grab hold of it this time with his hand. his palm lands two loud slaps on your asscheek, making you moan. same time, he could feel you tighten around his cock. "liked that?" you nod your head repeatedly.

jungkook tugs on the chain, pulling it backwards and then twisting it around his knuckles, choking you with the chain.

fuck, fuck, fuck. so hot.

you crack out a laugh, tongue out, panting. you were so close. so so so close. you had your tits squeezed between eachother tightly, your hands squishing the flesh as you felt the orgasm take over you. your pussy was spasming around his dick as you moan out loud, body thrown over jungkook's chest, tits pressed against his. jungkook definitely loved that feeling.

soon after you cum around him and milk his cock, he does too. his cum slips out of your contracting pussyhole.

jungkook lets out a laugh, hand patting your back and smoothing it. then he looks down from above, enjoying the birds point of view of your squished up tits and necklace in between.

he might just get hard again.

aftercare with jungkook has always been simple. you + boobs + him .

"humph, kook." you groan once you feel your boyfriend's hands squeeze your tits one more time. "bit more." he tugs on your nipple with the tip of his fingers, wiggling on his spot to find a comfortable position in the crook of your neck.

"aah, 'm so sore, baby." your voice aches through with yet another groan. "it's okay. you know it's okay." jungkook reassures.

"how about i give you a massage?" he raises his head up to look at your passed out face. "that's just another excuse for you to touch my tits..."

your boyfriend laughs, "are you complaining, though?" you shake your head with a small smile and turning on your back so that you're laying on your stomach.

jungkook slaps the fat of your ass before he begins to massage around your shoulder area. he does it soooooooooooo good though. he makes sure to press onto your bones and tightly circle around, causing you to moan in satisfaction. you enjoy his massage well until he gropes your breasts from the back, giving both of them a tight squeeze. you yelp in surprised. well, not really, you knew this was coming anyway.

he squeezes your tits and massages them well and even makes sure to give both of them equal attention.

and you both fall asleep with his head nuzzled between your tits and your hand massaging his scalp.

whenever you sucked his cock, at the end, he would always ask "where do you want it?". stupid question. there was only one answer.

jungkook's tip twitches in your mouth and he loosens his grip on your hair, a cracked moan also escaping his lips. "f—fuck, baby. you're so pretty with your lips around my fucking dick."

you flutter your eyes open, bobbing your head up and down. you feel jungkook twitch in your mouth, again. "mhm, where do you- want it?"

there was always only one answer.

you were wearing this grey oversized shirt with the thinnest material. it showed your nipples so well. dare i say jungkook got off to that as well. to answer his question, you squeeze your breast through the material and moan, mouth still filled with dick. he gets the memo and pulls his dick out of your mouth.

you cough out but quickly dismiss yourself and pull the neckline of the shirt down to expose your tits, both coated with a layer of sweat. jungkook cusses at the reveal of your breasts, fastening the speed of his wrist before he spurts his cum onto your exposed boobs.

"haaaaa. oh my god, fuck". you moan out, watching the spurts of cum land all over your breasts, some on the shirt as well as your neck. the white liquid was all over your nipples. so you make sure to rub them with both your index fingers, coating them well before bringing them to your mouth at once to taste them. you lick yourself erotically just as you did to his dick just a few seconds ago and taste your boyfriend's cum in your mouth.

"you taste so so good, baby."

and it's like jungkook's hypnotised again.

[rotturn]

our cards keep declining when we try to book places to stay i think we’re officially fucked gang

[vivwritesfics]

She's The Devil

(In Disguise)

She was just a hooker and Fernando was just a man looking for directions. They were never meant to fall in love

3.7K

Warnings: reader is a sex worker, non descript smut, Lawrence stroll is an ass

Fernando Alonso was incredibly lost. All he wanted to do was got to The Crown Plaza Hotel and sleep after a long day on track.

But he was so lost. Looking around and trying to read street signs weren't helping at all.

So, Fernando kept going. He drove until he found a busy street and parked up on it. But, before Fernando opened the car door, a young lady, scantily clad, knocked on his window.

Fernando rolled it down. "Hey, big boy," she said. "You need some help?"

She was pretty, he thought as she leaned against the window. But she was clearly nervous. Something stirred within him.

Fernando nodded his head towards the passenger seat. She walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in. Almost immediately, she reached for his zipper, but Fernando placed her hands back in her lap. "Oh, so, do you want me to touch myself?"

"I want you to tell me where The Crown Plaza Hotel is," he said.

She sat up a little straighter. "This is still going to cost you," she said before she directed him to The Crown Plaza Hotel.

As soon as they reached The Crown Plaza Hotel, Fernando climbed out of the car abd gave his keys to the valet. She did the same and held her hand towards him, expectantly. "Pay up," she said.

Fernando looked towards the hotel. "The money is up in my room," he said and pulled the door to the lobby open for her.

With his hand on the small of her back, Fernando led her through the lobby. He didn't much care for the stairs he got as he walked her into the elevator and pressed the button for the floor he was staying on.

Even in the elevator, she was looking around, eyes full of wonder. "Nobody has ever taken me somewhere this fancy before," she whispered. Elevator music filled the silence between them as the elevator took them up and the doors once again slid open.

Just as he had in the lobby, Fernando had his hand on the small of her back as he led her to his room.

It was, without a doubt, the most impressive Hotel room she had ever been in. "Holy shit," she whispered as she looked around, taking in everything. There was a plush sofa with a television in front of it, a spread of food on the table against the door abd art work hanging all around the room. "Have a seat and something to eat, if you'd like," he said as he threw his jacket over the back of a chair.

She instantly went over to the table and grabbed an apple. Sinking her teeth into it, her too high heels clicked against the floor as she walked over to the sofa and sat down.

It was the comfiest thing she had sat on in weeks.

Fernando took his time to find the cash he had brought with him. Every time he walked past the door of his bedroom, he looked at her, watched as she got herself another apple. She looked so young, no older than twenty-five. She was too young for this life, he decided as he watched her.

Finally, Fernando found the money. He pulled out the desired amount and brought it to her. "This is a really nice room," she said as she turned on the television.

Fernando couldn't help but look at her. He had no doubts she'd go back out onto the streets or back to a cold, one bedroom apartment, and limited food.

He shoved the money back into his pocket. "How much for you to stay with me for the next three days?" He asked.

She raised her eyebrows at him. Three days, that was three days of no other client. She thought on it as she ate her second apple. "Why would you want me here for the next three days?"

Fernando sat on the sofa with her. He tucked himself into the corner of the sofa and she turned towards him. "I'm in an unfamiliar city," he answered. "Maybe I want some company."

She let out a snort. "And you want company from a sex worker? Are you at least going to have sex with me?"

"Not unless you want me to," he answered.

She grinned and began taking off her heels. "£500 a day, and you can get me dinner."

That Fernando was more than okay with. He picked up the phone already in his hotel room and ordered food for the both of them to the room.

While they waited for the food, Fernando let her choose a movie. As much as he wanted to make conversation, he stayed quiet, letting her grow comfortable.

Her feet were tucked beneath her legs as she watched the movie. But then she turned her attention towards Fernando. For a moment she watched him, pulling her legs up to her chest and pressed her cheek her to knee. "How does somebody afford the nicest room at The Crown Plaza and the services of a girl like me for three days?"

Fernando let out an uncomfortable laugh. "I am... a Formula One driver," he answered.

"Shut up," she called, sitting up straighter. "No way!"

"I am!" He insisted.

Grinning, she leaned back on the sofa and stretched her legs out so that they were almost touching him. "I know nothing about Formula One, but aren't you too old?"

Fernando let out a scoff. "I'm not that old," he replied with a polite grin as a knock came from the door. He stood up and opened the door, allowing the food to be brought into the room.

"Dig in," Fernando said as soon as the member of staff was out of the room.

She did just that. She ate until she was fully stuffed, not noticing that Fernando barely touched any of it.

After she had eaten her fill, she laid back on the sofa and continued to watch the movie. But she didn't last very long, not before her eyes were falling shut and a yawn was leaving her lips.

Fernando watched her. "You can take the bed, if you'd like," he said and she stood her head.

Standing, she stretched and grabbed her heels from the floor. "Can you take me home?" She asked somewhat quietly, sitting back down to pull the heels onto her feet.

"You could take the bedroom, the door has a lock," he said.

She looked towards the bedroom. It certainly looked comfier than the mattress on the floor she would be returning to.

She took him up on his offer and slept in the bedroom. The door remained locked through the night, while she slept in nothing but her underwear.

Fernando slept on the sofa. It wasn't entirely terrible, but his neck ached when he woke up.

He ordered breakfast two his room, two plates full of cooked food, a plate stacked high with toast and a collection of cereals.

By the time the food arrived, she was unlocking the door and walking out in his robe. "Good morning," Fernando called as he placed two pieces of buttered toast on the place he hadn't touched.

She sat opposite him and grabbed a glass of orange juice. "Hi," she said, crossing one leg over the other. (Fernando kept his gaze fixed firmly on her face as she did so).

He cleared his throat and slid an envelope towards her. "I want take you out for dinner tonight," he said as he took the envelope and looked inside. "Go and buy yourself some clothes. As many as you'd like."

She was silent as she counted through the bills. "You can't be serious," she said, putting the envelope of money back down. There was at least £300 in there, along with a keycard. "How do you know I won't just run off with it?"

"It's less than half of what you'll be getting paid on Sunday," he answered, pushing his half finished breakfast away. "I'm heading to the track today, I've written my number on the envelope," he said.

She pushed her eggs around in her plate. "I thought you didn't race until Sunday."

Fernando couldn't help but smile. "I thought you knew nothing about F1," he replied and she snorted. "It's practice today. Qualifying tomorrow, and then the race on Sunday," he informed her as he grabbed his jacket. "Do what you want in here, treat it like your own," he said as he walked out of the door.

She did just that. After finishing her breakfast and an extra slice of toast, she explored the only other room that she hadn't visited.

The bathroom was gorgeous, bigger than her entire apartment. The tub was huge, with enough room for at least four people. Sitting on the edge of it, she began to run the water. As it ran, she turned and looked in the mirror. For once, she actually looked well rested. She ran her hands through her hair, her gaze travelling down to the black bag of toiletries below the mirror. But she didn't look, didn't invade his privacy.

She'd never been somewhere this luxurious, she thought as she sank beneath the copious bubbles in her bath. She scrubbed her body and massaged the shampoo into her scalp.

Even when she was finished, she still just laid there, waiting for the water to grow cold, the bubbles around her to pop and for her skin to grow pruney.

It was only then that she climbed out. She took her time drying her hair, a towel wrapped around her body as she moved through the hotel room, picking up her clothes as she went.

Her hair was still somewhat damp when she left the hotel room and climbed into the elevator, humming along to the music as it took her down to the lobby.

Again as she walked through the lobby, she was stared at. Maybe it was because of the height of her heels or her lack of clothing, but she didn't care. She swayed her hips as she walked out of The Crown Plaza Hotel.

It was an area she rarely visited in her line of work. She had no idea where she was going as she strolled down the streets, looking for a clothes shop.

The first shop she found she went into. She walked around the sales racks, looking for a classy dress for her dinner with Fernando. But nothing in that shop caught her eye.

She moved onto the next one. This hate it all. Classy dresses, pretty shoes and cute purses. She took some more times looking through the racks, searching for the perfect dress.

It was black and form fitting. Skirt was long, down to her mid calf, and had a slit going up the left side. It was simply perfect. She found the perfect pair of black, open toed heels to go with it, paid, and kept going.

There was still a fair bit of money left in the envelope. And, why would Fernando give it to her if not to spend it.

She returned to the hotel maybe minutes before Fernando. When he walked in, she was holding her new clothes up to her body and swaying in front of the mirror. She clearly couldn't wait for dinner.

Fernando cleared his throat, announcing himself. She placed the dress on the bed and walked out of the bedroom, heading towards Fernando. "Hi," she said, stopping in front of him.

"You went shopping, then?" He asked her.

She nodded. "Got a dress for tonight as well as a couple of other things. I hope that was okay."

Fernando couldn't stop himself from smirking. But he couldn't think of her, wouldn't think of her like that while she was on his dime.

"Well, go and get ready," he said and she turned, returned to the bedroom.

Fernando followed her. As she dug around in one of the shopping bags for the makeup she had bought.

As she ran off to the bathroom to do her makeup, Fernando got dressed into a white shirt and a pair of jeans. She did her makeup in a new style, a prettier, softer smile. One that didn't automatically give her 'fuck me' eyes.

As Fernando waited on the sofa, she ran from the bathroom to the bedroom to get dressed. She pulled her shoes on and did them up before stepping into her dress and pulling it up over her body.

As soon as she pulled the straps up, she walked out of the bedroom and over to where Fernando was sitting. "Zip me up?" She asked as she turned around and pulled her hair out of the way of the zipper.

Fernando's breath hitched as he brushed away the hair she hadn't been able to gather up. His fingers were soft against her skin as he pulled the zip up and let her hair full back in place.

He took her out for dinner. Her arm was linked through his as he walked her through the lobby to his car. The car that she hadn't quite gotten a good look at the night before.

It really was something. Some sort of McLaren, she didn't know which. But it was gorgeous. Fernando opened the door for her and she carefully slid in, holding her dress in place.

Fernando drove, playing his music as he took her to their destination. Again, it was a restaurant she had never been to. One a couple of the few dates she had been on took her out to eat, but it was never anywhere like this.

"Are you sure you're okay being seen somewhere this fancy with someone like... me?" She asked as Fernando pulled up outside. Each dish was going to be a minimum of £25 each.

Fernando looked at her, really looked at her. "I don't know," he answered, placing his hand onto her knee. She didn't have a problem with it, but as soon as he put it there, he withdrew it. "But I want to know."

Taking her arm once again, he took her into the restaurant.

Fernando let her order whatever she wanted. While they waited for food, they spoke. He asked about her life and she asked about his. When Fernando asked how she got to this point in her life, she hesitated. It wasn't the easiest subject to talk about. "I haven't... uh... turned many tricks," she finally said. "My colleagues look after me. They make sure I'm picky with it. Your car looked fancy enough for them."

Fernando let out a chuckle, his hand stretching across the table towards her, revealing the tip of the tattoo on his arm. "I'm glad," he said, softly.

But she had already grabbed his wrist and pushed up his sleeve. "I had no idea you had a tattoo," she said as she traced her finger over it.

"I'll show you the one on my back after dinner," he said, unable to hide his smile.

She settled back down as their food was placed in front of them. "How long have you been in F1 for?"

"Over twenty years now," he answered and she immediately grinned.

"See," she began as she pushed her food around on her plate. It was incredibly fancy and she was craving a greasy, terrible for you, pizza. "Told you that you're old."

Again, Fernando grinned. Normally he had an issue with people calling him old, made a point to prove that he was still young, that he still had fight in him, but with her he didn't mind. "Won the championship in 2005 and 2006."

"That's impressive, I think," she replied as she took a bite of her food.

"It is."

She took a bite of her food and looked around the restaurant. It was far too high brow for a girl like her. She sunk in on herself and took another bite of food. "Nando, do you wanna get out of here?"

As soon as she said it, he was calling for the bill and having their food boxed up for them. Fernando kept her arm on his as he walked her back out to the car, the food balanced in his other hand.

Once they got to the car, she opened the door for him and Fernando slipped into his seat. "Do you want to get anything else to eat?" He asked as they drove.

"Aren't you on, like, a strict diet or something?" She asked in reply, keeping hold of the food.

Fernando shrugged his shoulders. "If you something, I'll get it."

There was only one thing she wad craving at that moment. "Pizza?"

"Of course."

They got pizza and returned to the hotel room.

Sitting on the sofa together they watched movies while eating pizza. Fernando only had some, letting her have the rest. Just like the previous night, she began falling asleep on the couch against him. Fernando moved her to the bed.

The next day, between free practice and qualifying, Fernando was Karting with Lance. It was for the Aston Martin social media, the two of them racing around the circuit.

After free practice, Fernando returned to the hotel room. "Come with me today," he said as she sat at the table, feet propped up as she ate a pastry.

"Really? You want me to be seen with me?" She asked as she let her feet drop from the table.

"I can make sure that there are no cameras on you."

He doesn't want to be seen with you, something inside of her said. But she was getting paid for this, so she went with it. "Sure, sounds fun," she said and walked into the bedroom to get dressed.

Leaving the door open, she dropped her robe and pulled the sundress she had bought the day before onto her body. He better have seen her, she thought as she pulled on a pair of sandals, which she had also bought the day before.

"You look..." Fernando breathed as she stepped out of the bedroom towards him.

She held her skirt and spun. "Is it too much?"

"It's perfect," he said and offered her his arm. He walked her out of the room and out to the car. For the entire journey to the track, Fernando gave her a rundown of the team.

"Most importantly, you're going to see I'm not that bad for an old guy."

She giggled and reached over to kiss his cheek. Fernando parked up and took her hand as they climbed out.

Hand in hand they walked to the track. It seemed like everybody was waiting for them when they arrived. Before he knew it, Fernando was leaving her standing with Lance's girlfriend as he suited up and pulled his helmet.

They raced, Fernando holding the lead. He really did prove that he wasn't so bad for an old timer.

As soon as they finished filming the video, Fernando pulled off his helmet and walked over to her. "Not bad for an old timer, I'd say," he said with a grin.

"Not bad at all," she replied, holding his helmet from him.

But when Lawrence Stroll called him over, Fernando went. He left his helmet with her and joined his boss.

"Where did you find that pretty young thing," he asked as they walked.

Suddenly Fernando didn't feel comfortable answering. But he swallowed down the fear he was feeling. "She gave me directions for The Crown Plaza. And then I kept her around," he answered.

Lawrence frowned. "Is she... is she a hooker?" He asked and Fernando nodded. "Well, she can't come to the race tomorrow," he said. "It wouldn't look good for Aston Martin."

As much as Fernando didn't like the sounds of that, he understood. He said goodbye to his boss and walked back over to her. "Come on," he said, taking his helmet from her. "I think I promised to show you my back tattoo.

He did what he needed to do before leaving the track and walked her back to the car. They climbed in and, with an hour and a half before Fernando needed to be back for qualifying, he took her back to the hotel.

Things were quiet when they walked in. Fernando kept a hold of her hand as he walked her to the bedroom. As soon as he was at the bed, he pulled off his shirt and laid down on the bed, revealing his back tattoo to her.

"Wow," she gasped. She climbed onto him, sitting on his back as she traced her fingers over the lines of his tattoo. "Did it hurt?" She asked, feeling his shoulders and his muscles.

Fernando didn't know. He kept a hold of her, rolled her over while keeping her on him. One look in his eyes and she was dipping down, kissing him like it was the last time.

He spent all of the time he had before qualifying making sweet love to her. He was slow, rolling his hips against her own, eliciting soft cried of his name from her hips. Nobody had ever treated her that tenderly before. Nobody had ever made her cry out like that.

"I have to go," he whispered, his hands intertwined with hers.

She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed the back of it. "D'you think I could come with you?" She asked sweetly, innocently.

It was so difficult, but Fernando said no. He left her there while he went racing. Part of him wanted to break it off now, knowing it could never work between them, but he couldn't bring himself to.

But that day was fast approaching and his heart was already breaking.

[luveline]

Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰

ty for requesting!! fem

You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh. 

He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”

“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.” 

“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”

“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.” 

“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?” 

“Don’t recall, no.”

“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.” 

Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers. 

What’s wrong? he’d asked. 

You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid? 

Of course you don’t. 

There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like. 

Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many. 

“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back. 

The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?” 

“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them. 

He hands them off to you. 

It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once. 

“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar. 

Aaron’s phone immediately pings. 

He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight? 

If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is. 

He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out. 

He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly. 

“So hungry.” 

“We can get anything you want.” 

“Really? What if I want the same as last time?” 

It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.” 

You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”

[moonstruckme]

need more shy remus. please. begging. hands and knees. ANYTHING. i loved it so much genuinely.

Ask and you shall receieve. Thanks gorgeous! <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 794 words

You open the door to find Remus with a handful of what look to be carnations. 

“Well,” you say, smiling as you hold up your small bunch of dandelions, “this is awkward.” 

Remus blinks. You love to fluster him, amusement mingling with fondness in your chest until you can’t tell which is which, they’re both so big and happy. It’s your three-month anniversary, and despite your agreement just last week that neither of you would make a big deal, he’s clearly put extra effort into his appearance. There’s evidence of comb marks in his hair though it seems to have gotten tousled on the way to your flat (even better, in your opinion), he’s wearing that mossy green shirt you’d once told him makes his eyes look especially handsome, and you’re willing to bet that if you crossed the couple feet of air between you, you’d be able to smell the faintest whiff of his cologne. 

“Remus Lupin,” you tease, “have you put on chapstick just for me?” 

He blushes, rubbing his moisturized lips together self-consciously. “What,” he says quietly, “too presumptuous?” 

You laugh, taking him by his free hand to encourage him inside. You let him get close before stepping back, and there it is—a whiff of what he swears up and down is cedar cologne but has always smelt to you like frankincense and orange. Maybe by six months, you’ll be brave enough to stay right by his collar and take a big sniff, but for now you inhale as subtly as you can before moving out of his space. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of what you’d do with yours if you were picking me up,” you say, trying not to skip as you go into the kitchen, grabbing a vase from under the sink. “Do you want me to put them in water and you can grab them before you go home, or would you rather take them with us now?”

Remus looks at you, expression wavering between befuddlement and awe. “Those are for me?” 

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop doing that around him, it just comes spooling out of you like a pulled thread. “Course they are. You like dandelions, right? Or did I get that wrong?” 

“I do.” His voice is soft, tentative. “How’d you know?” 

“You mentioned it once.” You shrug, arranging your carnations in the vase. It doesn’t take much work to make them pretty, all fresh and upbeat and still undoubtedly invigorated from Remus’ touch. They look like you feel. “You said there used to be a ton in the courtyard of your school, so I assumed they have some nostalgia value. So, vase?”

“I’ll take them,” he says, wrapping his hand around the stems tenderly. His forefinger touches your pinkie, and you both let the contact linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away. The scar on his cheek stands out starkly against his blush, pushed up by a bashful smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Warmth comes to your face in tandem with your chest, and you beam at him. “No problem.” The carnations look lovely in the center of your table, which reminds you that you’ve forgotten to tell Remus how lovely he looks. “You look really nice, by the way.” You give the words just long enough to find their mark, his flush worsening, before moving on so he doesn’t go mute on you like he has on a couple of occasions when you’ve laid on the affection too heavily. “Where is it we’re going again?”

Even with the subject change, it takes him a second to get his wits about him. “Um, I was thinking the cafe a couple of streets over,” he all but murmurs, doing that adorable thing where he seems to turn his eyes up to yours despite being taller than you. You’d kiss him on his pinkened cheek if you thought he’d ever recover. “We could go somewhere else, though. They have this chocolate torte I thought you might like, but if—”

“You like it there?” you ask, grabbing your keys from off the counter. 

Remus does a funny shrug-nod thing, as if to say Well, yeah, but what good is that?

“Then I’m sure it’ll be great,” you promise him, grabbing his hand to pull him out the door with you. “Chocolate torte sounds amazing, actually. How’d you know I was craving chocolate today?” 

“Figured it was the same as any day,” Remus mumbles, giving your hand a light squeeze. 

Another laugh startles out of you, and you can’t help yourself, going up on tiptoe to dot a kiss just beside his scar. 

Remus doesn’t speak again until you sit down at the cafe, but he never lets go of your hand. 

[provide-milk]

Pt 3: Do You Know What You're Doing To Me?: Ford x Reader

⚠️Minors do not interact with! NSFW!⚠️

Read Chapter 2 here! https://www.tumblr.com/provide-milk/764282571298390016/pt-2-do-you-know-what-youre-doing-to-me-ford?source=share

Everytime Ford entered the room and saw you, you received that soft smile that you adored and made you melt every time. 

“Good morning Ford!” 

“Good morning to you too, dear.”

You would have to hold back a grin whenever he called you that. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the tension disappearing and just assumed that you both figured things out in the car (which was true but you’d never tell them all the details). Except Wendy assumed that there was a little bit more to that innocent car ride.

“So… are you guys a thing now or something?” Wendy asked casually, as she swept the floor after noticing you and Ford continuously glancing at one another.

You looked at her confused, as you finally stopped gazing dreamily at Ford.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Wendy groaned, “Come on! It’s so obvious I’m surprised no one else has noticed.”

“You must just be imagining things because there’s nothing going on between us.” You responded as casually as you possibly could in that moment. 

“Fuck, she figured it out.” You thought to yourself. 

“Hey, I’m not judging you guys. I mean he's pretty old, sure… But once you get over that I guess it kind of makes sense. Well maybe not… I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you guys are happy that’s all that really matters.”

As much as you wanted to indulge in some girl talk and spill the beans about kissing Ford, you remembered how you promised him that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

You took a deep breath, “I appreciate all of that Wendy, but there’s nothing going on between us. We’re just friendly with each other.”

“Whatever ‘friendly’ means, you guys definitely like each other and that’s for sure.”

You scoffed, “I don’t like him like that and I doubt that for him too.”

“Kid!” 

You turned your head to see Stan heading over towards you.

“I don’t know what happened between you guys and I don’t really care to know, but I’m glad to see old sixer back to himself. Seemed like that car ride really did help.”

You chuckled nervously, “Yeah, you can say that again..”

You could see out of the corner of your eye Wendy looking at you suspiciously.

“Seriously though, what did you do? He’s really stubborn. It’d take a lot more than just a car ride for us to make up. I have to keep in mind what you did next time he starts acting all high and mighty.”

You tried to avoid snickering at that last part.

“I don’t know Stan, I guess I just have a way with him.”

“That’s more than I can say..”

It was nice to see Ford back to his old self again, but it was a little different this time. Better this time. Whenever you guys were alone, you two couldn’t help but tease one another. Ford would be in the middle of telling you about some new discovery he made before giving you a compliment. He’d lean in closely towards you, causing you to lose your breath.

“Do you know how bad I want to kiss you right now?” He whispered.

You grinned, “So why don’t you?”

Ford hesitated, “Now’s probably not a good time..”

“Nobody is here, right now.” You said mischievously, slightly tugging on the strap around his torso.

“Still.. We should probably be a bit careful.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to kiss me.”

“I did say that but-”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You pulled him closer and gave him a quick peck on the mouth, then another, then anoth-

You were interrupted by some talking outside from tourists. You both quickly backed away from each other, Ford clearly flustered. 

He cleared his throat, adjusting the strap around his torso, “We both better go back to work. But before that… What time are you off again?”

“I get off at 5. Why?”

“I just want to see you.”

“Is that all?” You smirked.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck, “Maybe a little bit more than that.”

God, you couldn’t wait to get off. 

Sighs and moans filled the lab, as you sat on Ford’s lap kissing him back fervently. You were becoming addicted to just the taste of him and how his lips perfectly meshed with yours. As you moaned into his mouth, Ford took this as an opportunity to shove his tongue in causing yet another delicious sound to come from you. You tried to keep up with him, but it was almost difficult at times because he kissed you like he had been starving for you.

Your fingers entangled in his hair while his hands grabbed at your waist like he was trying to force you to be closer to him than you already were. You grinded against his already hardening erection, receiving a groan from him that you cherished each time. 

This was beginning to become the norm for the two of you. Almost everyday after work or sometimes even on breaks, Ford would call you down to the lab to help him with an ‘experiment.’ Each time he kissed you it felt like the first time and each session felt almost better than the last (which might be because of Ford’s kissing skills growing at a fast rate). You felt like two horny teenagers, hiding away from your parents. But as good as it felt, you wanted more. You pulled back from the kiss. As you caught your breath Ford looked at you quizzically. 

“Did I-” His chest heaved up and down, breathing heavily. “-do something wrong?”

“No.. Nothing wrong…”

He raised an eyebrow at you before trying to go back to kissing you, but pushed yourself farther back. 

“Everything ok?” He asked, confused. 

“Yeah… It’s just that.. I want more.”

Ford paused, “Oh. What do you mean by… more?”

“I mean like sucking your dick.” You said bluntly.

Ford’s eyes went wide, “I see…”

“Do you not want to?”

“That’s not the case…”

“Then can I?” 

Ford hesitated, “It’s just that once we go that far we can’t go back. Kissing is one thing but this is…”

“Ford… I can feel your dick poking me right now. I don’t think it’s too crazy of an idea at this point.” You rubbed yourself against him, causing him to grunt.

He seemed to be deep in thought, you hated it, you wish he just went for what he wanted instead of thinking so logically about everything

“No.” Ford finally responded, sternly.

“Ugh! You’re no fun…”

Ford just chuckled at your reaction. Fine, he wanted to be cruel, so were you then.

“But Ford…” You purred, grabbing one of his hands. “But if we keep kissing like this… I don’t know how I’m going to be able to control myself…”

Ford was silent, watching how you brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing each of the tips of his fingers. He froze. You gave soft licks to the top of his sixth finger, before placing it in your mouth and sucking. You could feel his erection hardening underneath you, poking you between your clothed folds. His eyes were filled with lust, as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You moaned against his fingers, making eye contact with him and that was the last straw. He swore he could’ve came right there on the spot. He pulled his hand away from you.

“Do it.”

You grinned before getting off his lap. You tied your hair up with a hairband, eyeing him as  you dropped to your knees in front of him. Ford’s hand went towards his zipper and you swatted it away. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Let me.”

You parted his legs open to make some room for yourself between them and started to unbuckle his belt. Once you were done with that, you lowered your head to his crotch, teasing the zipper between your teeth as you made eye contact with him before pulling it down with your mouth. You could see Ford’s bulge grow just by the sight of you, as he gripped the armrests of his chair. It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest in anticipation for what was next. You wanted this. Badly. Your fingers went under the waistband of his underwear.

“Are you sure you want this?” 

“Yes… I… I want it.” Ford responded breathily, shutting his eyes as you revealed his hardened cock.

Heat pooled between your legs just at the sight. You were surprised by the size of him, you knew he’d be on the bigger side but being face to face with his dick was another story. It wasn’t so much his length that was surprising, but the girth of him that had your mouth watering as you watched the precum fall from his tip. Ford was beginning to shuffle in his seat which took you out of your daze. You pressed your lips against the tip before swirling your tongue against the opening, finally tasting him which you thought you’d only be able to dream about. When you licked the underside of his cock, you heard a soft whine come from Ford. You immediately looked up at him to see his face reddening.

Ford cleared his throat, his eyes not meeting yours, “Just ignore that.”

“Why? I want to hear all the sounds you make. It’s cute.” You responded before finally taking the full head of his cock in your mouth. 

His leg twitched, as he took a deep sigh, trying to contain himself. His cock became fully erect in your mouth and you took this as an opportunity to begin to bob your head, tracing the veins with your tongue. There was no turning back, you felt like you could get addicted to this, watching Ford through lidded eyes slowly lose his composure. The man who came across as fully put together and slightly egotistical was slowly unravelling before you. 

You breathed through your nose as you decided to take the challenge to fully take him in your mouth. It was difficult due to the girth of him, but you hollowed your cheeks, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Ford almost broke the armrests of the chair as he felt the vibrations of your moans against his dick.

“Fuck- If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last too-” His words were cut off by a loud groan as you sucked him, the lewd noises filling the air. “Shit!” He gasped. 

You’d never heard Ford curse before. His words and the erotic sounds he made caused you to shuffle your thighs together for relief. You could feel yourself getting wetter and almost felt like you could cum just by that. You knew he was getting close to releasing, but before he could do that you released him with a pop. He thought you were going to finish him off with your hands, but instead you went back to teasing his tip with your tongue.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to- Fuck- Can you open your mouth?” His voice was shaking.

You obliged and before you could process anything his hand was in your hair, forcing you to take him all the way again with your mouth. You groaned against him, slightly gagging which only added to his pleasure. He began to bob your head up and down his cock, fucking your face. His sudden control of the situation turned you on to an extent that surprised yourself. You looked up at him, making eye contact with him, He seemed to be fully out of it, his usual uptight self gone.

With one last moan from you, he completely let go. He threw his head back with a loud groan, his hands still on your head, forcing you to take him from the base of his dick. You tasted the salty cum on your tongue. You choked as he continued to pump cum down your throat (seriously, when was the last time he ejaculated?). He let go of your hair and you released him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.” he said through heavy breaths. “You don’t have to-”

Before he could finish his sentence he watched you swallow with a shocked expression on his face. 

“Or you can I guess…”

You both tried to catch your breaths before you stood up and wrapped arms around Ford.

“See? Wasn’t that worth it?” You said as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Ford was stiff and was still trying to process everything.

“You ok?”

“Yeah… Can I be honest about something?”

“Of course.” You responded, still giving him pecks on the cheek.

“I’ve… never done anything like that before…”

You leaned back with your jaw dropped, “You’ve… never had a blowjob? But I thought… You dated a siren, right?”

Ford rubbed the nape of his neck, “Well… it never got that far.. It was only about a month or two..”

“Oh my God. So you’re a…?”

Ford sighed, “Virgin. Yes.”

You chuckled, “No wonder all you want to do is kiss me.”

“Hey, it’s not like you don’t want to either…”

You tell Ford was slightly uncomfortable by the conversation. You just hugged him tighter and he patted your back awkwardly.

“I’m honored to be your first blowjob.” You smiled and Ford snorted in response.

“I don’t know how much of an honor that is.”

“It is! Was it good?”

“It was… amazing.” Ford stared dreamily at the ceiling and you laughed heartily. “Are you sure you don’t need any help… getting off?”

You were taken aback by his offer.

“Thank you Ford. But I don’t want to overwhelm you too much. I think I’ll be dealing with it on my own tonight.” You winked at Ford causing him to grin in response.

“That’s very kind of you to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, there was the sound of the door opening. You immediately let go of Ford and he turned his chair in the opposite direction to tuck his dick back into his pants.

“Grunkle Ford..” Dipper called out before catching you with his eyes. “Oh you’re here…”

You gave him an awkward smile. “Glad to see you too Dipper.”

He ignored you, “Grunkle Ford, you said we were gonna play Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons today.”

“Wait a minute, Dipper. I’ll be up there as soon as possible.”

You and Ford glanced at each other. You saw that he still needed time to regain his composure.

Dipper walked out of the lab disappointedly.

“What’s the matter kid?” Stan asked Dipper before Mabel chimed in as well.

“Ford has been hanging out a lot with y/n lately… We’ve hardly been able to talk now.”

“Maybe…” Mabel’s eyes lit up. “Maybe they’re dating!”

“Don’t start with that sweetie. Sixer’s way too old for her. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

“Yeah Mabel, that’s weird.”

“Is it really though? I bet they like each other. I’ll put money on it.”

“Oooh a little bit of gambling. I’ll join.” Stan responded.

“Yeah you’re on.”

They all gave each other handshakes. Mabel though was determined to win no matter what. 

[regressionschool]

BBQ and pull-ups

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the backyard as two daddies sat comfortably in lawn chairs. The smell of grilled burgers filled the air, but their attention was focused less on the barbecue and more on the two women crawling around the grass nearby, playing with colorful plastic blocks. Their wives, dressed in matching pastel rompers with thick, crinkly diapers peeking out from beneath, giggled and babbled softly as they built little towers, completely absorbed in their play.

David leaned back in his chair, a cool drink in hand as he watched his wife, Claire, carefully stack one block on top of another. She was concentrating so hard, her pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth as she worked. Beside her, Mike’s wife, Lucy, giggled as she knocked over Claire’s tower, clapping her hands in delight. Claire pouted, but only for a moment before joining in on the laughter, the playful energy between them contagious.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. “They’re always like that, aren’t they? One minute building something, the next tearing it all down.”

David grinned, glancing at his friend. “Yeah, it’s like they never get tired of it. You’d think after playing with the same blocks every day, they’d be bored, but nope. They’re just happy to do the same thing over and over again.”

Mike nodded in agreement, watching as Lucy crawled over to a nearby stuffed bear, hugging it tightly. Her diaper crinkled loudly with every movement, the unmistakable sound a constant reminder of their little roles. “Speaking of the same thing,” Mike started, his tone shifting slightly, “I’ve been thinking about trying to reintroduce potty training with Lucy.”

David raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Potty training? Really? After all this time?”

Mike shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. She’s been in diapers for over two years now, but I don’t know, I’ve been thinking it might be worth a shot. Maybe pull-ups, just to see how she handles it.”

David leaned forward, intrigued but skeptical. “Pull-ups? I don’t know, man. Why would you want to go through all that hassle? Diapers work perfectly fine. No mess, no fuss. She doesn’t even think about using the potty anymore.”

Mike scratched the back of his head, clearly conflicted. “I get that, but... part of me wonders if she could handle a little more responsibility, you know? Maybe give her a chance to grow up a bit, see if she’s ready for it.”

David smirked, shaking his head. “Trust me, Claire’s been in diapers just as long, and I wouldn’t dream of going back to potty training. She’s too far gone at this point. It’s just easier this way. Besides, you know how many accidents they’d have in pull-ups? I’d be changing them constantly.”

Mike laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right about that. But pull-ups could be a nice middle ground, don’t you think? They’re still padded enough for accidents, but it would give Lucy a little more independence. At least she’d feel when she’s wet, instead of just going and not realizing it.”

David leaned back, crossing his arms. “That’s the thing, though. Do you really want her to feel when she’s wet? I mean, the whole point of diapers is to keep them blissfully unaware. It’s part of the appeal, isn’t it? They don’t have to worry about accidents because they don’t even realize they’re happening. Why give her a reason to think about it?”

Mike thought for a moment, his eyes drifting to Lucy, who was now happily stacking blocks with Claire again. Her diaper crinkled loudly with every little shift, the soft bulge beneath her romper proof that she had already wet herself at least once since they started playing.

“I guess that’s true,” Mike admitted. “But don’t you ever wonder if maybe they could handle just a little bit more responsibility? I’m not talking about making them fully potty-trained or anything. Just... seeing if they could manage pull-ups, at least during the day.”

David chuckled, shaking his head. “Honestly, no. I’m perfectly happy with Claire in diapers. She’s comfortable, I don’t have to worry about accidents, and she’s completely dependent on me. Why change that? Potty training is just going to stress her out.”

As if on cue, Claire glanced up at them, her pacifier still in her mouth, and crawled over to David’s chair, pulling herself up on the armrest. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her diaper crinkling as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Hi, sweetie,” David cooed, reaching down to stroke her hair. “Are you having fun?”

Claire nodded, her pacifier bobbing as she sucked on it contentedly.

David smiled, glancing down at her diaper. It was obvious she had wet herself a while ago, the padding around her waist swollen and slightly discolored, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. It was just part of her life now, something she didn’t think about.

“See?” David said, looking up at Mike. “She’s perfectly happy, even though she’s wet. No fuss, no tantrums. She doesn’t even realize she’s had an accident. That’s what diapers are for, to keep them comfortable and carefree.”

Mike watched the interaction, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just... I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the one who feels like it’s time for her to grow up a little.”

David grinned. “If you want her to grow up, that’s fine. But you have to ask yourself, is she really ready? Or is this more about you wanting to see if she can handle it?”

Mike sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re probably right. Every time I think about trying pull-ups, I remember how much easier things are with diapers. No accidents to clean up, no stress for her. And she’s so used to them now...”

David chuckled. “Exactly. Why make things harder for yourself? Besides, can you imagine the chaos if you tried potty training and it didn’t work out? You’d be dealing with accidents everywhere, not to mention how frustrated Lucy would get.”

Mike smiled, glancing over at his wife, who was now lying on her back in the grass, hugging her stuffed bear and babbling softly to herself. Her diaper was clearly wet, but she didn’t seem to care, completely lost in her own little world.

“Yeah,” Mike said softly. “She does look pretty happy like this.”

David grinned, watching as Claire crawled back to the blocks, joining Lucy in their game. “Exactly. Diapers keep them happy, comfortable, and stress-free. Why mess with that?”

Mike nodded, his mind now clearer. “You’re right. Maybe I was overthinking it. Pull-ups might give her more responsibility, but honestly? I kind of like her like this—carefree and innocent. I don’t want her to worry about accidents.”

David smiled, satisfied. “That’s the spirit. Besides, do you really want to deal with all that extra work? Potty training sounds good in theory, but diapers are way easier. No need to rush them into growing up.”

Mike laughed, shaking his head. “You’re right. Diapers it is, then. I’ll leave the potty training for another lifetime.”

The two men shared a chuckle, the debate settled as they watched their wives play happily in the grass, their thick, crinkly diapers on full display, proof that they were right where they belonged.

As the afternoon wore on, Mike felt a sense of relief wash over him. Watching Lucy babble away, her face filled with innocent joy, he realized that David was right—there was no need to push her to grow up. Diapers kept her safe, comfortable, and blissfully unaware of any accidents she might have. And in the end, that’s all that really mattered.

Just then, Lucy crawled over to Mike’s chair, her diaper sagging slightly as she looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. Mike reached down, ruffling her hair gently. “Hey, princess. You having fun?”

Lucy nodded, her pacifier still firmly in place.

Mike glanced down at her diaper, noticing the bulge. She was definitely wet. But just like Claire, she hadn’t noticed. And that’s how it should be, he realized. She was happy, carefree, and completely dependent on him—and there was something deeply comforting in that.

Smiling to himself, Mike decided then and there: no pull-ups, no potty training. Lucy was his baby, and diapers were exactly where she belonged.

[zentraex]

Can I please request yandere cheater shoto x fiancé reader, where shoto cheats on the reader to spite his father. They are in a quirk marriage and shoto hates that despite the reader trying to be the perfect spouse for him as the reader does house chores and prepares his meals only for shoto to neglect them and coldly dismisses them.

Hi! So, thank you very much for your request! I actually had some big problems with the yandere-part, but I hope it still fits somehow.

Like always: English grammar is different than German grammar. Sorry for any mistakes. :)

Perfect Fiancé

You were the perfect fiancée...theoretically

A hard day full of work? No problem, you took all the things in the household for him.

A villain injured him? No problem, you knew immediately what helped for fast healing.

Shoto needed support in a battle? No problem, you were one of the best heroes.

Shoto needed love?

…

…

…

Your quirk was incredibly strong and quite adaptable. That was also the reason why Endeavour became aware of you. A few meetings with your parents, a few nice words and the matter was decided: you were to become Shoto's wife. 

You cried so much that day. At that time, you still had a boyfriend: the best of them all. He was perfect, no one knew you better than him. Who would have thought that you would ever have to part with him?

Not because of a fight.

Not because of fading love. 

And also, not because he cheated.

No, it was because of the decision of higher powers. 

But you were a positive person. 

Make the most of it! Maybe he's quite nice?

Scratch that!

He's the coldest person you know – but you have to get along with him... for your entire life. 

No matter how hard you tried to make life more comfortable for both of you, everything left him cold. You also had the feeling that he hated you more and more from day to day. 

You can feel it especially today...

"I made food. Would you like to come to the dining table?"

No matter how many times his words have hurt you, you always smile at him.

Without looking at you, he replies, "No, I don't want to eat your food."

Ouch.

Your sad gaze wanders to the food. You've been in the kitchen for for the last two hours, on your only day off.

"Are you sure? I put in a lot of effort today."

"No. I don't want to eat it."

He still doesn't look at you, but you can clearly read his annoyed look. Your heart bleeds.

Shit, it hurts so much.

What are you doing wrong? 

Nothing—it's just the fact that Endeavour chose you. Shoto is a defiant little kid and treats you that way for that only reason. Unfortunately, you just don't know...

"Don't you want to try it at least once?"

You immediately notice how the whole room temperature is getting cooler – but nothing beats Shoto's ice-cold gaze. He clicks his tongue and puts his phone aside, straightens up and looks you straight in the eye.

"Are you stupid?"

„W-What?“ 

Your heart pounds painfully against your chest as you look at him in shock.

This time he gets up, walks slowly towards you and stops just a few steps away from you.

"Are you deaf too? I said that I don't want to eat your disgusting food. Do you want me to repeat myself again?"

Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you shake your head and look at the floor. 

"Why not so from the beginning?"

The corners of his mouth pull up to a mean smile. His gaze lingers at you for a few seconds before he turns away from you and leaves.

Your gaze wanders to the food that is even decorated to match Valentine's Day.

Does he really hate me that much?

Oh yes, you also realize why when you come home from work and hear another woman moaning in your room.

Yes, you and Shoto have separate rooms and he's doing it in yours. 

Crying, you put your things down and go out. Where?

Away, I just want to get away from him!

You don't even know where your feet are taking you. It's only when you realize you're standing in front of your beloved ex-boyfriend's apartment that you realize where you are. 

"Reader?" asks a male voice that you would recognize everywhere. Sniffling, you turn to him and are just happy to fall into his open arms. 

_

At first, Shoto grinned when he heard the door slam. It was exactly as he wanted it to be. Even if you weren't his dad, it still made him feel like he showed him. 

Today he is invited to dinner at Midoriya's. In a good mood, he gets into the car and drives off

…

He almost didn't recognize you as he drove past. You look like different person at the side of...

Who the hell are you?

You and your ex sit on a bench in the park while you eat your ice cream with a big smile and bright eyes. Shoto has never seen such an expression on you. Yes, you smiled, but it never reached your eyes. You always seem… lifeless at his side.

What is that?

His heart feels like it's tearing apart. Why does it feel like it's bothering him? Weird, he doesn't even like you at all...

 He couldn't enjoy dinner. His thoughts kept wandering to you and this uneasy feeling.

_

The next day, Shoto sat down with you at the dining table for the very first time. Far too focused on your phone, you didn't even notice him at first. It's only when he clears his throat that you look at him.

"Is anything?"

"How was your day yesterday?" 

Speechless, you blink a few times. It takes a while for you to process his question. Annoyed, your gaze turns away from him.

"Pretty good."

"Pretty good? You caught me cheating yesterday, how can your day be 'pretty good'!?"

Shoto chews angry on his lower lip as he looks at you with a boiling look in his eyes. All you can do is rub your temples.

"It's yesterday's horse face, isn't it? I'm your fiancé, not him."

Are you serious?

You suppress yourself from saying anything about it and look at him bored. This only seems to make him angrier as he walks to the door and turns his head towards you. 

"I forbid you to see him."

Before you can say anything, he already locked the door behind him.

[fangweaver2099]

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM

 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 

“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 

You blush.

[cupcakeslushie]

I dont usually send asks, mostly cause im shy and don’t know what to say lol, but I wanted to share my appreciation for your Kendratello AU, cause it’s helped me recognize a toxic relationship in my own life.

I’ve never been a victim to SA or anything of the likes, so I can’t say I’ve been EXACTLY in Donnie’s place, but something that unsettled me early on when reading your AU was how…NICE Kendra would seem when alone with Donnie.

In a lot of media, especially in the media I saw growing up, the manipulative antagonist almost always had very obvious tells that show they’re evil when interacting with the victim. Maybe they’re talking about committing a very clearly villainous deed, keep the protagonist prisoner, something like that. But Kendra didn’t. Well, not always.

Kendra destroyed Donnie from the foundation up, and then rebuilt him back up to be who she wanted him to be, would punish him but then spin the situation around to be his own fault, but the rest of the time she would seem kind.

Only recently have I realized that someone very close to me has been toxic for most of our lives, and the reason it took me this long to realize it was because they would treat me kindly only until it became in their own interest to act otherwise. But I would take it, because I loved them and didn’t want to hurt their feelings, and I assumed that since they loved me, they wouldn’t ACTUALLY (emotionally) hurt me.

Spoiler alert: they did.

I’m not going to get much more into it, but your AU’s been very comforting to me ever since this happened, because it’s helping me come to terms with the fact that what happened wasn’t my fault just because our relationship seemed nice most of the time.

Your depiction of Kendra manipulating Donnie so realistically, and Donnie slowly but surely realizing that Kendra was hurting him is so powerful, and I thank you for that.

I’m so happy for you Anon 💚💚

It’s good to see these patterns, and depending on how toxic the relationship is, to speak up for yourself, or cut the person out, if they are unwilling to change.

Kindness is often a tool used by manipulators. But the biggest thing to ask yourself is exactly what you saw. Is this person only nice to me when they need something from me? And if so, then this isn’t real kindness. Good for you for knowing your worth!!

⚠️

sa related ask and discussions of very toxic relationships…

Personal experience rambling below. Toxic friendship and sa mention.

I’ll only be discussing this once, here, in this post. So I’m afraid if I get anyone asking for further info, I’m not going to reply /lh

I’m very sorry for what you’ve gone through. I hope you can find what you need to heal. Everyone’s traumas are so different, so please if you can, and haven’t already, speak to a professional that will give you help catered to you.

But I do want to immediately answer your question and say, yes, I have healed, for the most part. It took a lot of work and self-reflection that I didn’t want to do, because it was scary. But when I finally talked to someone, and realized I needed to take action in order to heal, that was when the process started.

For years, I thought my only options were to suffer in silence, and that what happened to me was my own fault, because towards the end, I was consenting. But I didn’t understand how my mindset and self worth had become so twisted.

My person (let’s call him J) was one of my best friends growing up. But as he got older, and more interested in…mature things, he changed. J would only ever agree to hang out together unless I offered to give him something to make it worth his while. Eventually I started to think these acts were all I was good for, as that’s all that made him happy to be around me. Pretty soon, J didn’t even have to push the ideas onto me. He only had to act uninterested or busy, and I would sit there and beg to do whatever he wanted.

The idea of rejection grew to be so painful and terrifying as he was one of only two friends that I had (the other being his sister. So if I lost one, I was so scared to lose the other). And I’d recently lost one of my closest childhood friends. Which he often used her cutting contact with us in his manipulations as well.

(It wasn’t until years later that she contacted me through Facebook and revealed that it was J that made her feel too uncomfortable, and as she already lived two hours away from us, and only visited once a year, it was just easier for her to cut off contact. I don’t blame her now, but without that knowledge, the thought that it was something I did, only helped J manipulate me.)

As I grew older, and I got better friends, I started to learn just how much I’d been pushed into only ever doing what he wanted, and how one sided of a relationship it was. He moved away, and that distance I was so scared of became a reality. But it was the best thing to ever happen. I still wonder what would’ve happened if he’d stayed in town. If we might’ve gotten married or if I would’ve finally stood up for myself. But all that matters is he is gone. There is always the danger of him coming home and me seeing him—we were neighbors, so his parents and mine still live right next door. Holidays can be kind of a high stress time lol.

That cafe comic is actually probably the most therapeutic piece out of the whole Kendratello AU I’ve done, as it’s always been a fear of mine that I could just turn around and he’d be in town visiting lol. Sending Kendra through that portal was highly cathartic. But even if that were to happen now, I have my coping skills, and I’m in a much better headspace. I think I would be able to handle myself.

I’m still a people pleaser, I don’t think that’s ever going to go away, even with all the work I’ve done. The biggest thing is, I know I’m worth more now. I can see real kindness, and catch the fake stuff much better by looking for those same toxic signs. The real friendships I’ve made have shown me what connection is truly like. It’s not a one-sided negotiation every time you get together. And if it is, then it’s probably not a healthy give and take. I’ve healed, but it is a constant effort.

Every new person sets off some kind of anxiety in the back of my head, but I don’t let that fear control how our relationship will develop. I’ve got the final say in what happens and what I get out of it.

[petrichorium]

also on my hands and knees dying to know about ur divorce (and perhaps reconciliation maybe…) with sir croc

Firstly I wanna say croc is THE reason for the divorced tier I had everyone in the husband/fiance/bf (and cusp + complicated) tiers I had the list downloaded and then I looked at croc in the husband tier and I was like no. Divorced………

Anyway I think you’re a marriage of convenience at first. Crocodile needs a wife to look more like An Upstanding Citizen Ready To Settle Down for his plans in Alabasta, you need the stability and rapport for your own reasons. A deal was struck (including a nice shiny prenup and an easy way out for both of you), the wedding goes off without a hitch, and now you’re cohabitating.

You’re all but a stranger, truthfully, though he’ll admit you were one of the most beautiful brides he’s seen walking down the aisle. And he finds your presence in his home less distracting than expected—you stay out of his way mostly, though the pair of you eat meals together and sleep in the same bed and you are always expected to be on his arm for formal occasions. You’re more than decent company, slowly warming to him and growing more open; willing to give advice on occasion, even, and it’s good advice he’s prone to heeding.

Which is why he’s blindsided when you drop the papers on his desk. There’s little he can do—they were practically already signed before the wedding, and in the surprise he can’t compose himself enough to think up a proper protest. All he can do is fold his hands together as you turn to leave, clear his throat, and call out, “Might I ask why?”

You shrug. It almost seems sad. “I want something more. You’re a very busy man, I don’t think you can give that to me.”

And those words haunt him, all the more because every trace of you is gone in the span of a few days. He lays in his bed, alone, pondering how much you truly lived in his home and how much he truly had to give you. He thought he made sure you wanted for nothing—but, clearly, that wasn’t the case. And if he’d known you’d be gone in the span of a few years…

In hindsight perhaps he’d been a bit distant. His work took up the vast majority of his time. All those meals were more often than not spent in silence, with Crocodile leaving long before you finished your food; you were often asleep before he came to bed, still slumbering when he woke; he’d arrive to those formal events with you on his arm and part ways almost immediately, drawn to meet with some politician or another and leaving you on your own.

The bed feels empty.

And then he gets a report about Nefertari Vivi. It all goes downhill from there. The empire he spent years building crumbles beneath his feet, toppled by that godforsaken princess and the upstart pirate with a straw hat. And as he’s carted off to Impel Down… he still thinks of you.

It’s perhaps a good thing that you left when you did. In a certain sense it saved you, severing ties with him when you did. But foolishly he wonders about the timing—wonders if it would have happened at all if you’d stayed. Logically he knows the rationale is anything but sound.

Instinctively… whenever he gets out, whatever he intends to do next, he thinks he needs you at his side again.

So when the break-out happens, and Crocodile is given a freedom he’d nearly given up on, the first thing he does is begin to track you down.

It takes more than he thought it would. His web of informants isn’t half of what it once was, and his name no longer pulls as much weight, forced to remain in the shadows as he now is. You, meanwhile, catch onto the mystery person trying to keep tabs on you far too quickly for his liking—flighty thing, never quite setting down roots, quick to flee at the first sign of danger. A trait that has only seemed to worsen in his absence, it seems.

But it’s only a matter of time. He’s Sir Crocodile after all, back from banishment to the depths of the ocean, sure to see the sun again. His men close in on you within a year as he builds up his numbers again, but Crocodile ensures he’s the first to make contact.

He intends to show you immediately how things will be different this time.

You’ve made temporary home on a quaint little island, sharing a house with a little old granny who lets him in eagerly when he presents a bouquet and says it’s for you. There he waits, served tea and biscuits that he doesn’t taste.

And then the door opens. You pause when you see him, eyes wide—donning a breezy sundress you’d never have worn for him in Alabasta, your hair wind-tousled so unlike the meticulous updos he always saw you in, with a basket of produce under arm—and the sight of you has his chest unwinding. It’s like he can breathe again.

Not that he had any intentions to before, but the smell of your familiar perfume steels his resolve to never let you disappear again.

[222col]

meet me at the tennis court

pairing: art donaldson x reader ft. patrick zweig summary: art needs patrick's tennis coach, in more ways than just tennis. word count: 2.4k warnings: 18+!!!!, smut, dirty talk

Art never thought he'd be one for sabotage or betrayal, he never thought he'd need too, he was a good enough player on his own. He and Patrick had always been of a similar level, it was an even playing field before either of them went pro. Patrick got a head start, when Art went to Stanford. While Art did improve during college, Patrick had a dedicated coach, Art had to share a college level coach with the whole team, the playing field wasn't so level anymore. You starting coaching Patrick a year into his professional career, you'd met Art a few times when they'd practise together during spring or summer break, you knew he had potential. Art knew he needed one thing to beat Patrick, you.

It wasn't that he didn't want Patrick to succeed, he did, but he knew he needed you. As much as Art would never admit it out loud, he knew he had the talent to go further than Patrick, he just needed help. He'd watched you, how you worked with Patrick, your sternness, but kindness. You were exactly what he needed, for his career, but also his life. Once Art finished college, Patrick persuaded him to play in a doubles match with him, it wasn't high priority for Art, but he knew it meant time with you, so he agreed. Arriving at training, Art was nervous. Knowing this was his big chance to steal you away from Patrick, to join his team. Part of him felt bad, like a bad friend, but there was just something about you, that he craved.

"Alright, boys," You arrive to the court as the boys are warming up, tight tennis skirt and matching tank, carrying a crate of balls and a racket. Art mumbles a 'Christ' under his breath as you set the crate down and set up some cones. "Dude, I know, I don't know how I ever focus with her as my coach." Patrick responds. Art didn't think he was loud enough for him to hear, letting go of Patrick's hands, letting him drop to the floor. "You think she's hot?" Art questions, pulling his friend up from the floor. "Art, I'm not blind. I know she's hot, I spend nearly every day with her." Art shakes his head and picks up his racket. Patrick follows suit, holding out his hand in front of Art's mouth. Gum drops from his mouth to Patrick's hand. "Very romantic, can we maybe get on with training now?" Their heads snap towards you, both nodding as you wait, hands on hips.

Art wants to impress you, but he keeps missing shots, watching your skirt blow in the wind as you hit balls his way. "Get it together, Donaldson!" You shout, hitting another ball his way. He's focused now, but Patrick jumps in front of him to hit the ball back to your side of the court. "Nice to know one of you has your head screwed on, need to go back to college tennis, Art?" Your words sting, he's meant to be showing you that he's worthy of your time and attention, yet Patrick is out doing him, again. You throw a couple balls in his direction. "Let's see your serve." He picks up a ball, takes a breath and lines it up with the neck of his racket. He grunts as he hits the ball, it was one of his best. "Better." You smile to him. He has to stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. "Christ, all she did was smile at you, Donaldson." Patrick mocks, clearly noticing the redness on his cheeks. He's grateful you're moving cones and don't notice.

He improves throughout the rest of the session, not better than Patrick, but not missing any more shots. "Okay, boys, that should do us for today." They both drop their rackets, hair slick to their foreheads with sweat as you hand them both a bottle of water. "You have potential, Art, but you need to focus more." He shrugs in agreement as he drinks his water. "He's normally a lot more focused, wonder what got into you, Donaldson?" Patrick isn't slick, Art internally cusses him out. "Maybe I could do with a private session, if you have any spare time?" Art's almost smirking, Patrick definitely is. "Sure, Art," You say, packing away spare rackets. "I have a couple hours tomorrow before Patrick's solo session." His smirk turns to smile. "Great. See you then."

The two boys pick up their bags and head to the showers. Undressing and turning the water on, Patrick laughs. "What?" Art questions, turning on the shower next to his. "You're trying to fuck my coach." Art just shakes his head and starts washing himself. "You're not even denying it!" Patrick laughs, washing the shampoo out of his hair. "Maybe I just want some help." Art responds, letting the water wash the soap off of his skin. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you do." Patrick brings his fist to the side of his face and sticks his tongue to the inside of his cheek, imitating a blowjob. Art scoffs and continues showering. As much as yes, Art does want you in that way. He wants more, he wants all of you. Your body, your brain, your guidance.

Still nervous, but less so than yesterday, Art arrives for his private training session. You're already on the court, skirt looser than yesterday, the wind nearly exposes your ass as you bend over to pick up some extra balls. "Fuck me," Art mutters under his breath. He drops his bag next to you. "Jesus, Art, you nearly gave me a heart attack." You laugh, breath unsteady as you hold your chest. His mind is already wandering. He laughs too, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Opening his bag to pick out a racket. You pick up a racket of your own, grabbing a few balls and telling Art to do the same. You both get into position on either side of the court. After a few rallies, you stop. "You seem a bit pent up, Art, what's bothering you?" You ask, walking towards the net. The sexual frustration he's feeling is one thing, the other being how to breach the subject of subtly betraying Patrick. "Patrick's other coach said this too, I'm not sure." Patrick doesn't have another coach, Art just needs to find a way for you to leave Patrick and focus all your time on him.

"Oh really? That's interesting. Maybe you need to channel your aggression on the court." You don't bite. Do you know he's lying? You take a sip of water. "I didn't know Patrick had another coach." There it is. You bite. "Yeah, for a few months now, I think." Art keeps lying, he should feel bad, but if it means you direct your energy to him. He'll do anything. "Interesting. I told Patrick when I first starting working with him that I prefer my clients to work solely with me." You take another sip. "You know, so secrets don't get shared. My work doesn't get undone, things of that nature." He's done it. He's got you questioning. Your brow furrows as you keep drinking. "That makes perfect sense. I was surprised when he told me, when I knew how brilliant you are- How brilliant you made him." He hopes you ignore his slip up. You don't. "How brilliant I am?" You smirk to him, placing your water on the bench, taking a step towards him. "Well, you're an extraordinary woman." He smiles. "Exactly what I'm looking for actually." You examine his face. "In a coach?"

His eyes deepen, the space between you closing. "Yeah, something like that." Your hands are on your hips, looking up at Art. He can feel your breath on his neck, swallowing deeply. Looking down at you, the loose fit tank not helping, due to the fact he has the perfect angle to see your cleavage. "Something like that?" You repeat his words back to him. "Mhm." is all he can muster in response, his breath hitching. "You want me to coach you, guide you, tell you what to do?" You lean up to him, you lips mere inches from his now. "I definitely want you to tell me what to do." His confidence is back. Smirking down at you. "In tennis?" You question, playing dumb. "In tennis, in life, in bed..." He trails off, faking innocence. "Kiss me then." You barely finish your sentence before his lips are on yours. You can feel his hunger on his lips, his hands searching all over your body as yours tangle themselves in his hair. He finds his way underneath your skirt, caressing the lace and bare skin beneath it. You smile into his kiss, cocky bastard, you think, kissing you like this with his hands on your ass in the middle of the tennis court. Anyone could walk out onto the court, any minute, Patrick could easily arrive early and find the two of you together like this. The thought only turns you on further, Art must feel it in the kiss as his hand snakes around your body and into your underwear.

Gasping and gripping his body tighter as his fingers stroke the length of your folds, your legs almost buckle as he grabs hold of you tighter. Giggling to himself as he watches you come undone. His finger slips inside of you as his lips find their way back to yours. His kiss can barely capture the sound of your moans as he slips another finger inside. "Shut the fuck up," He whispers in your ear, covering your mouth with his hand. "Or do you want someone to catch us with my hand under your skirt?" His grin is evil, he's loving this, watching your eyes turn darker the further he pushes his fingers inside of you. He removes his hand from your face, returning to it's place on your ass. "I don't remember me saying you could tell me what to do, Donaldson." Your voice is shaky, breathing heavy as you hold your moans in the best you can. He raises his eyebrow, removing his fingers from inside you as you pout. "Do you want me to stop?" He asks, his fingers teasing your clit, so gently you can barely feel it. "N-no," you muster, his fingers re-enter. "Stop acting like you're in control right now then." His order hits you like a slap across the face, your knees go weak. You didn't think he had it in him. All you can do is nod your head as he picks up the pace. His thumb now drawing circles on your clit, your eyes close as your head flings back. You bite your lip to stop your moaning, Art's lips attacking your neck, definitely leaving small bruises as he goes. "Good girl." You can't stop the groan that falls from your lips this time. Art chuckles, loving the control he has over you in this moment.

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up, or do you not want to come today?" Your head swings back to face him. "I'll be quiet, I promise, fuck- Art, please let me come," He rewards you with a kiss, you use it to your advantage and let your moans escape into his mouth. You're getting close and he knows it. You've began to shake, your grip on his biceps getting stronger as your nails dig into the skin. He's revelling in the fact you're leaving marks on him. He's getting exactly what he wants, you. "Come for me, baby," His whisper pushes you over the edge, nearly falling to your knees as you finish on his hand, he instinctively holds your body up as you bite down on to his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. He can feel that through his shirt, he'll be left with a bite mark. A groan leaves his own lips at the thought. "So, you'll be my coach then?" He asks, cheekily as you ride out your high. "Fuck, Art, I'll be whatever you want me to be if you keep doing that." He chuckles, pulling out his fingers, immediately bringing them to his lips. He inserts them both to his mouth, licking every drop of you from his fingers. He licks them clean and leans down to kiss you. He giggles into the kiss and smacks your ass playfully. "Hit the showers, Donaldson. I've got to get ready to fire my client, looks like you'll be my priority from now on." He picks up his bag, winking at you as he leaves the court.

Entering the showers, he finds Patrick. He claps slowly, "What a show, Donaldson." Art's cheeks flash red. "Really, I didn't think you had that in you." Art's head drops, thinking whether to deny the whole thing, until he sees the tent in his trousers. Patrick just laughs, patting him on the back. "It's nice to know that I'm finally rubbing off on you." Art's laughing too now, turning on the shower and undressing. "Fuck off," He retorts, stepping under the cold water. He winces as the water hits the fresh marks you've left on his body. Patrick inspects the reason for his wince, noticing the bite mark on his shoulder. "Is it weird to say that's hot?" Patrick smirks, brushing his fingers over the mark. Art shakes his head and pushes his hand off his shoulder.

"You might wanna start looking for a new coach." Art states, washing his face. "Why? You wanna make sure I don't make a move on the girl you're fucking?" Patrick smirks, as Art turns to face him. "She's my coach, as well as the girl I'm fucking, actually," Art can't even attempt to hide his smile as he continues showering. "You little snake!" Patrick laughs as he slaps Art's boner, he groans in pain. "Will you still be my doubles partner?" Patrick asks, picking up his bag, ready to head to the court. Art laughs, "Of course," turning back to his shower. "Don't tell her you saw anything, oh, and if she asks you've had another coach the past few months." Patrick leans around and hits Art on the balls. "You really are a fucking snake, Art!" Patrick laughs and jokingly kisses his cheek. "It's exciting seeing you like this, I hope she gets you to apply it to your tennis, then maybe you'll finally beat me."

[cloudwhisper23]

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.

[bellaxgiornata]

do you have any head cannons for how Frank would take care of you on your period? i have endometriosis and my periods are really rough, i just started mine and couldn’t help but wonder how he would try to comfort you 🥹 congrats on your recent milestone!

Thank you!! And oh friend, that sounds rough and I hope you're doing well making it through yours this week! 💕 I definitely have some thoughts on how Frank would take care of his significant other when they are on their period--especially if it was a particularly rough one (or if they were always rough and painful). Frank is just a big softy under his hard exterior, and I feel like his caregiving side (that isn't seen often but definitely exists) would certainly come out seeing his partner struggling and in pain. He would make it his personal mission to make them as comfortable as he could. But I'll throw all my thoughts below the cut for this one!

Frank would know exactly when you were on your period just by looking at the pain etched across your face because of the cramps. You wouldn't even have to ask, he'd already be up grabbing you your preferred painkillers and bringing them straight to you without a word.

He'd get you a nice warm shower started first thing and demand you take it to help with the pain while he fixed you breakfast/coffee/tea. And he would absolutely refuse to hear you tell him not to worry about you. "That's what I do," he'd say. "I worry 'bout you 'cause I care. I'm always gonna worry 'bout you. Now don't argue with me and get in the shower."

On the worst days of your period he'd be telling you that you should be taking it easy for the day. And if you had to go into work? You can bet he'd be grumbling to himself about how "that’s a buncha bullshit" and you deserve a sick day because you're clearly not feeling alright.

At the beginning of your period, he'd make a special stop after work at the store to pick up all your favorite comfort snacks to help cheer you up for the week. Because he knows the smile he'd get from you when he walked through the door with your favorites in hand and he could never pass up an opportunity to see it. And if you were low on painkillers, pads, or tampons? You can bet he'd have no issue picking those up, too.

Before bed at night, he'd sit down with you on the couch and let you choose to watch whatever you wanted, even if it was some ridiculous romantic comedy you've seen a hundred times or a reality show he absolutely hated. Sure, you might get his occasional commentary on it ("Who honestly thought up the idea for this?" "That ain't how that works in real life"), but you wouldn't hear a single complaint to turn it off. Though he'd certainly give you a very specific look if you joked about telling your friends that he'd been watching it with you.

Frank would absolutely be cuddling you while you relaxed, too. Maybe your legs would be draped over his, or maybe you'd be laying atop him on the couch. However you felt most comfortable, he wouldn't complain. And you could always guarantee that his fingers would absently trace patterns over you as you lay there, offering comfort he wasn't even aware he was giving.

At some point while you both relaxed you'd hear him say, "C'mere, let me help, sweetheart." And you'd know you were about to get the most relaxing back massage that would just about put you to sleep from his large hands that somehow always knew the right level of pressure to use.

When it was time for bed, Frank wouldn't mind being your personal heating pad. You want to lay curled around him? Use him as the big spoon to your little spoon? He'd happily comply because he remembered how you'd once told him that his body heat helped to dull some of your cramps so you could fall asleep.

[jvnluvr]

jealousy, jealousy ; blue lock boys ♡

ft. sae, kaiser and isagi x f!reader

author's note: if only these scenarios i write would actually happen to me.. :( it's okay, maybe it'll happen one day. an idea i randomly came up with, kinda rushed but still put a decent amount of thought into it. i think i only can genuinely write good when i'm mad skdksj. anyways, enjoyy!! ♡

itoshi sae:

"she's actually, pretty cute..." sae could hear rin mumble next to him, noticing that he was clearly in some sort of daze.

he knew rin was just doing it to piss him off, and he hated to say it was working. everyone knew it, you and sae both liked each other. it's just the both of you were too shy too actually ask the other to be in an official relationship. still, he made it evident to let other people know not to flirt with you, cause worst will come to the worst.

"her outfit is also pretty nice, right?" rin mentioned yet another compliment about you. this time though, he was snapped out of his trance and he was talking to isagi, which the boy agreed with the statement.

it's like a fire erupted inside of sae. it didn't even matter at that point if people were able to see the fury on his face as he walked towards you. you were just minding your own business after all, giggling, chatting and catching up with your friends. well, that was until you were harshly pressed against a wall, the air almost being knocked out of you as your field of view drastically increased.

by just his cologne, you almost immediately know it's sae. but you still nervously look up as he's looking down at you with his usual bored eyes. however, the moment your gazes lock onto to each other, he's giving you that soft smile he only dares to show when you're around. it makes your heart flutter, cause why was he always hiding it if it was such a pretty look on him?

"um, is there a reason why you decided to pull such a bold move in front of everyone tonight-? huh-?" it was just a little sound you could make as he moved your chin up towards him to pull you for a kiss. it wasn't a short one either. he made sure to take his time devouring and remembering the way your lips tasted. at first, you had no idea to react, but eventually you were able to ease into the kiss.

it takes a while until sae is finally satisfied and able to let go of you. only then do you both realize how quiet the place has gotten, and that's when it hits that everyone is paying attention to the both of you. upon your realization, you put your head down in embarrassment, but it's not like anyone could see you really. sae's back was covering you.

he could hear the gasps and shocked noises from rin and isagi, but that's what makes his let out that deep chuckle. he kisses your forehead, whispering 'mine' across the skin as he grabs your hand. "where are we going-?" yet again you are merely cut off as sae drags you out of the area, with vivid plans to take you to his house, to make things official once and for all.

michael kaiser:

kaiser was definitely one to get jealous much easier. i mean, who can blame him? he takes great pride in his relationship, and you mean the absolute world to him ! it's only natural for him to get possessive over the one he loves. so when he sees some random guy leaning into you, he's outraged to say the least. but he's still in the middle of practice. noa would come for him if he left at any regard.

so when he goes on his little break, he tries to listen in a bit first. kaiser doesn't want you to think you're not capable of saying no yourself, but he's still there to rush in and protect you for whenever the time calls for it. "what's a pretty girl like you doing in a stadium like this?" this guy's tone almost makes him vomit right then and there.

"uhm, waiting for my boyfriend. can you please move? you're making me really uncomfortable." you say nicely, yet with a stern voice. kaiser's always liked that about you. your ability to still stay so calm in dire situations like these. you keep him balanced, and he loves you so much than words can express for that.

"c'mon, your little boyfie' doesn't hafta' know. just come with me for today." he really hates how insistent this man is. kaiser might be a bit of a jerk at times too, but he doesn't stoop down to this horrible of a level. he's really tempted to run in there, but again, he waits a little while longer.

"no thanks." it's simple, and you try to walk off, you really do. but the man grabs onto your arm roughly, which makes you yelp out in pain. he's almost trying to drag you away, to which you aren't able to retaliate as much as you has hoped to do. kaiser sees you, he does. so the instinct alarms loud in him, and he's picking up his pace to run over to you, quickly knocking the man out of his senses (literally) before turning around to you.

"sorry i didn't come sooner, baby. did he hurt you? i'm sorry-" you stop his chant of apologies by giving him a quick kiss and then wrapping your arms around him. even if he's sweaty, kaiser didn't want any more than to keep you in his arms forever. "it's okay mikka, he didn't pull too hard. thank you for coming." you kiss him on the cheek again as he does the same back to you.

"well first of all, he was ugly anyway. i knew you wouldn't go for him. second of all, i wish i had come sooner, really. i didn't want you to think that i thought you were incapable or whatever." you smile at him unconsciously as he talks. jealous michael was not only really useful, but he was also really cute.

isagi yoichi:

isagi is more of the "doesn't really notice but when he does he becomes 10000000x more clinger." (yes i just gave it a title shut up.) so when he invites you to his gathering with the blue lock boys, he wants you to enjoy yourself! he's off chatting with bachira and chigiri, but everyone once in a while he'll look at you to make sure you still have that gorgeous smile on your face!!

so when he looks back at you once again, he's a bit confused. you look great, of course! but it kind of seems like, you're having too much fun..? without him? his heart stings a little. isagi loves seeing you happy, but when it's with another guy? nagi at that? no, he's not happy at all now. he's the one who should be making you laugh like that, not him.

he quickly excuses himself from the conversation at hand and starts to walk over to you. you're sitting on a chair, back facing towards him. so to surprise you, he wraps his arms around you, gently putting his chin on top of your head. he makes direct eye contact with nagi, which almost looks like a death glare. "hey princess, what are you up to?" he coos at you, and since you can't see his face, you assume he's in a good mood.

"nothing much, yoichi! nagi was telling me about blue lock! how was the catching up going?" you say, smiling at nagi. but he gives you a barely visible one back as you suddenly feel your chair being turned around. you see your boyfriend's face, softly smiling at you. you couldn't help but think how adorable he was.

"i could tell you about blue lock too, y'know? come with me, cutie." he lifts you up from your chair, and you let out a small laugh. but then you remember about nagi. was he just staring at you both this whole time-? the thought of it flushes your cheeks, but when you turn around, the chair is empty.

"hey yoichi, what happened to nagi..?" he turns you back around, planting on kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips. "don't worry about it, baby! i'm sure he just saw reo and then walked off! come on, let's go!" he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he drags you off. but when you hear your phone buzz, you see a new notification, a message from nagi.

IMESSAGE:

nagi: your boyfriend is scary, tame him.

you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle once you realized what had happened.

[thewanderingmask]

my submission for the hermitcraft season 10 fan art gallery: Xisuma Eternal! (actual size on left, embiggened version on right)

there are a ton of little thoughts that went into this and i will now go off about them at length (ramble under the cut)

let's start with the image layout and composition! my first idea was to do an homage to the original doom box art because of X's skin, but ultimately I decided on referencing this Eternal cover (hence the title of the piece) because it sparked some stronger ideas in my brain.

i still wanted to keep that link to the original though, so i did my very best to emulate the original logo with X's name - replacing the original texture with binary as one of many references to X's role supporting the technical side of the server.

(for no reason other than my own amusement, the binary in the letters is translated lyrics from X's verse in the hermit gang song. i don't even know how much of that is still visible after lining the letters, but i liked putting it there)

i've only been watching hermitcraft for a few months, and there's an awful lot of history i don't know about. so i focused on doing my best celebrating builds X has worked on here in season 10! i would have loved to include his base as well, but ultimately i ran out of room.

(there are still a few nods to other seasons based on knowledge i've acquired through osmosis. evil X is the most obvious, but i was also able to sneak in a couple small carvings next to the X in the title text!)

coming back around to xisuma's work on the technical side, that's why Evil X is backed by error windows. it's also why xisuma is holding a toolbox! it was the best visual metaphor i could come up with for the digital job of maintenance and repair.

(and of course he has a lovely cup of tea as well)

the allays (holding redstone) are partially in reference to farms X has been making, partially bringing back in that angelic/demonic vibe of Doom, and mostly because their intended role of supporters and helpers feels very thematically appropriate for X.

the lines in the sky are of course meant to evoke the shapes of mace race, and the black cube is a minecraft-ified version of the Soulside Eclipse logo.

(if you're not familiar, that's xisuma's music! it's good!! give it a listen sometime! it's on youtube!)

the silverfish at the very bottom are visual reference to the demon hordes of Doom - and of course they're also much more directly referencing X's very clever prank in impulse's city.

finally, on the walls of spawn we have the carved symbols - one for every other hermit. i remember X mentioning in a stream once something about fulfillment from supporting others. (i apologise if i'm remembering less than clearly.) it just felt like if i wanted to represent X, it felt important to include them as well.

and of course it made me happy to do something for Every hermit, since all of them

(smallishbeans/joel was actually the one i got most stuck on! there wasn't really a single item or symbol i could think of to narrow him down to. ultimately i decided on a torii gate and a little letter J, but i'm honestly still thinking about it)

ah right, and the Actual last thing: this turner out to be totally unnecessary, but i absolutely did draw this in the minecraft map hex code colours. it's a tricky palette to work with, and i learned a LOT about pixel art while trying to get the sky to look nice!

this piece took about 10 days to complete, maybe the longest i've ever spent on a single illustration like this - and honestly, i'm really happy and pretty proud of how it turned out!!