#maybe cause my head hurts in a weird way my eyes hurt and people do not leave me alone I was gonna pounce on my mum

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

[kavehater]

I was thinking like factually speaking why the heck does alhaitham like kaveh in the beginning and how did they even become friends like cause alhaitham frequently doesn’t care abt ppl who try to talk to him. Kaveh embodies the qualities alhaitham usually seems to ignore unless I’m missing something. I’m not talking abt why he likes him now (that’s a mixture of guilt and distance making him want to mend things and those make for some strong emotional pushes is why) but I’m saying why did he like him in the first place ?!

The thing is with the opposite personalities mesh well argument is that there’s so much difference one could tolerate to balance the other out, there MUST be some commonality, but the commonality for them is not very pronounced enough for them to even consider being friends in the get go. Which brings my to the conclusion that perhaps people like alhaitham have some quality that I just haven’t cracked the code to yet.

The reason I bring this up to begin with is that I don’t understand people like him as much as I do kaveh, albeit me mining alhaitham a lot. The thing is alhaitham shares a lot of his traits with my brother and I share a lot with kaveh so like our dynamics seem to mirror one another. Thats interesting cause when my brother similarly broke my trust and all hope I was trying so desperately hard to place on him I ended up distancing myself from him completely, I would frequently ignore him and emotionally cut him off as much as I can. Not that I’d assume he cared I just thought this is what he wanted + I was hurt from his actions, My brother isn’t the type to grovel anyways or feel guilt for that type of thing so I just was like well that’s the end of our relationship forever I suppose.

But then something odd happened, he seemed to care and notice my distance. Coming as an over energetic over enthusiastic chatterbox I presume the absence of my yapping and energy seemed off, he used to always try to talk to me (but I’d completely ignore him) or act friendly to me or just try to engage with me to some capacity but I wouldn’t give him the time of day because he had proven to me at one point that I am nothing to him anyways (and as someone who always tried so hard to be his friend I gave up in that moment which catalysed this dynamic now). He seemed to me to try to go out of his way to talk to me now maybe feeling a little confused or guilty (?) because I don’t think he knows what he did wrong

Regardless my point is that the ppl who are similar to alhaitham for some reason tend to gravitate to their polar opposites seeming to me when it’s too late. Which is an interesting reaction because anyone who knows them would’ve assumed they wouldn’t go out of their way to do so but here we are. My dilemma is that I want to know why because no matter the amount of debunking and thinking I do it just makes no sense to me and everyone knows I think and reason a lot so 😞🙏

So cycling back to the first sentence that’s why I’m awfully confused as to why someone like alhaitham would like someone like kaveh. And why do they feel that guilt ? Even though they royally mess up but you’d have assumed that their lack of emotional maturity and intelligence in that regard would’ve rendered them the equivalent of a potato taking action to right their wrongs.

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Alien Escape

Male Alien Yandere × Gender Neutral Reader

(CW: Noncon, oviposition, breeding, overstimulation, crying, fear, minor character death, weird alien dick, minor mentions of medical experimentation (NOT on reader), alien, implied abduction, general yandere behavior)

Word Count: 680

(Just something I typed up on my phone because it was in my head and demanded to be written, a nice little mini-fic. Hope you enjoy!)

Tears streamed down your face, and your legs burned and ached from running so fast through the labyrinthine halls. Your frenzied footsteps on the cold tile floor were completely drowned out by the incessant blaring of the alarms.

When you slipped and broke the containment field, you had doomed everyone.

At last, you had made it to the exit. But it was covered by a heavier metal door with no handle.

Of course. The entire site was on lockdown now.

Maybe you could double back and hide in one of the abandoned rooms. If they weren't sealed off by now, too.

You ran off down a side corridor, but it was a dead end. Maybe it wouldn't come this way since it wasn't the way out.

Suddenly, the alarms and all the lights turned off. Probably sucked dry due to the escaped alien's ability to absorb energy.

You huddled into a corner in the darkness, nothing visible.

Then you saw light. Coming from far down the hall. The pale sickly green glow of the alien slowly approaching.

When he entered your field of view fully you gasped. He had a struggling Colonel Hughs in his arms, a hand over his mouth.

The alien slowly walked towards you and as he did so, he impaled Hughs with a spike that protruded from his wrists causing the colonel to rapidly age before turning to dust.

The alien had absorbed his life force.

It was humanoid, but had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Scars from "research" littered his body. Its wrist spike retracted back into itself as it slowly stepped towards you.

His strange ribbed cock poking out of his genital slit and lengthening as he approached.

It looked slimy and writhed as if with a will of its own. All while glowing with the same green light the rest of his body did.

You cowered and sobbed. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die.

And you weren't going to.

The alien had no intention to hurt you. He wanted you to be his incubator.

Out of all the people in the facility you were the only one he sensed any sympathy from. And no ill will. He only sensed regret and anxiety whenever your gaze landed on him.

It was the only modicum of kindness he experienced while being captured, contained, and experimented on.

He clung to it, focused on it. It was a lifeline for him.

And when you broke the containment unit he was housed in, he was convinced you had been purposefully trying to free him.

As he loomed over you, he could sense your fear. He gently wiped your tears away with his prehensile cock before pulling you up, turning you around, and pulling your pants down.

Yes~

This would do perfectly as a receptacle for his egg.

You begged and babbled, sure that he was about to turn you into dust.

When his slimy dick worked its way into you the noises you were making progressed into screams.

He put his hands carefully on your fragile human hips as his priggle writhed all around inside you, causing you to squirm and moan involuntarily in pleasure.

If he had a mouth your alien mate would have cooed at that sound.

The alien's dick molded itself to your inside perfectly, to kiss every little fold of your intimate depths, leaking viscous goo as it did so.

After your tenth forced orgasm from your otherworldly lover your legs finally gave out and he had to hold you close as he pumped one final time into you.

He deposited a large egg inside causing your tummy to bulge out, quite beautifully in his opinion.

The creature put his hand on your head and used his abilities to make you fell into a well earned sleep.

Green slime leaked from your entrance and down your legs when he pulled out of you.

It was a good thing you were a janitor, because once he had you back on his home world you'd be dealing with this mess daily.

[rowretro]

𝕾𝖔 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖞

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, thriller, gore, death

♡synopsis: Y/n's not afraid of the dark... maybe she might be scared of what's in the dark. The ghosts? monsters? death hunting her down ready to grab her by its fist? of course not. She's scared of her ex.... he's so scary....

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

Y/n yawned as she walked down the creepy, dark hallways of the abandoned high school. Tables scattered here and there, blood splatters dried ones and even fresh ones, painting the ground and wall. Evidence of human life being tortured and tormented for days before being ripped into pieces and left on the ground, rotting into the floorboards. Y/n was rather more disgusted, shocked the police hasn't once come across this place... Oh wait- that's a dead officer from the 90's seems he died a few weeks ago. Why was she here exactly?

It's stupid of course. Her dear friend who had been acting weird lately, dragged her to this place, challenging her claiming she'll die of fear before the ghost even gets to her. Y/n was no idiot, denying any invitation to the murder house. Yet Angela Yin, her best friend, dragged her in, the doors shutting behind them, and jammed shut. Then Angela went missing. That's how y/n found herself wandering the empty classroom where the ugly thing was just a second ago. She groaned, grabbing a key she found as she walked toward a door that had a matching lock.

She's ran into the killer once, it left a fog of smoke, causing her trip over small thing. It's nails disgusting and long like claws, head snapped off, hanging backwards. Eyes gauged out and mouth wide open. It was disgusting. its arms reached forward, but it can only see behind itself. That helped y/n, it was so blind it didn't bother looking in the cabinet where she hid in pure silence.

Just as she was about to put the key in the lock, a thick black liquid, slid from under the door, taking over the big, thick wooden rectangle, that blocked whatever was in that room from her. She groaned, arms crossed, as her foot tapped against the tattered floor impatiently, she stared at the many creepy hands holding eyeballs and organs waving them around through the now blackened, inky door. "What do you want from my ghost?... In my 18 years the worst thing I'd ever done to hurt anyone was being sarcastic and throwing parties when I'm home alone, now did that hurt you?" she asked as the eyeballs glared right at her.

"na how bout we talk about what YOU did? kill everyone who tried to send you to a better place, figure out a crime, or at least run home to their family? I don't know why Angela dragged me here, but once I drag that bitch home she's getting it. And you listen to me. I know deep inside you know you did something wrong, hence you killed so many innocent people and are trying to haunt me. I'm not scared of you because you were once a human like me... So why don't you get out of my way, and I leave you alone if you leave me and possibly Angela alone too kay?"

Y/n said confidently as if negotiating with a person who's afraid of her. yet the thick inky liquid disappeared, and the door opened. "That's what I thought." she said, dragging her sharp rusty metal weapon along with her. Yet the doors closed, there stood Angela, eyes pure black, veins visible in her arms and face, no longer blue or purple but black. Her teeth grew sharp as she approached y/n, her bony hands wrapped tightly around y/n's neck, choking her. "Fuck- Angela- What the fuck?! stupid ghost bitch I thought I told you we had a deal." Y/n choked out.

However the girl let go of y/n impulsively, as she fainted, the ghost screaming as it was forced out of her. There she saw a sight that scared her most "Nishimura No......." she mumbled as Riki dusted himself off. "Yes.... Im back baby." he said with a smirk. She threw a table at him and rushed outside, now lost in the dark woods, there, vulnerable, and in the depths of danger, possible vampires and Werewolves that had escaped the military's hold, roaming around in need of blood. That's why she broke up with him.

"Wow babe, one way to say thank you for saving your life, and hi to your darling boyfriend" Riki's deep voice echoed as he walked out from behind the trees. She backed away from him. Her ex. Riki. She broke up with him after she saw her suck the blood of her cousin. "I told you already we're broken up." she said mustering up enough courage to at least try to sound like she was confident in her words. "No you made that decision. Not me, so sorry you're stuck with me." he said as y/n glared at him. He groaned running a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Darling.... I only drink blood of a human when I need to, and I only suck the blood of those who do wrong in the world and you know what your cousin did to you..." he said as he gently grabbed her arm, scanning over the healing scars on her arms. She gently pulled away, feeling herself falling into his love trap yet again, like a moth to a flame. "You're not scared of my love.... you're clearly scared for me... y/n I love you and you're mine you can never change that. I don't understand why me being half demon half vampire scares you.... I'd never hurt you... you know it. They can't ever kill me, I'm practically immortal.... So please. take my hand and let me take you to OUR home." he said as he grabbed her arm... yet she pulled away roughly.

"Nishimura Riki. I may love you... but I don't trust you... I don't want you anymore.... Im over you..." she said, almost as if convincing herself, "Then you leave me no choice." He said, yanking her into his embrace, teeth stabbing into her collarbone.... He imprinted her, kissing her lovingly right after. There's no turning back now "I'll go home then-" Angela suddenly said walking toward her boyfriends car, as y/n was still dazed.

She was his now. She realized how too such perfect care of her, before their break up, and even now, as she stared at the permanent mark on her collarbone in the reflection of the mirror. She didn't find him so scary anymore. The comforting environment of his groans of annoyance every time he lost a game his comfortable room, his cologne intertwining in the air, the large white sweater that slipped off her shoulder, so comfortable as she hugged it closer to her skin, his sweater...He's not so scary after all...

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

──SOULMATE [Part-1]

⪩oneshot: Soulmates are meant to be with each other, even if death do them apart.

⪩pairing: Dazai x reader

⪩a/n: soulmate au where the soulmate will feel other's pain in form of flowers blooming in the hurt area

Nothing seemed to make Dazai happy. Sure the fake mask of his personality he wore everyday could deceive others, he could fool everyone but himself, and maybe his soulmate too. Dazai viewed it like a curse. Soulmates shouldn't exist in the first place. He couldn't help but empathize and feel sad for his soulmate, for every suicidal tactic he survived, his soulmate will be somewhere, getting hurt or injured by the flowers and thorns that grew. And yet, with no sign of revenge, his soulmate never sent him a flower when he sent a bouquet of them. Human mind is weird. Should he be happy about it? He didn't knew.

You were tired. You were so tired of this life, this soulmate link that existed between you and your soulmate. Whatever his job was, how could he be so reckless. At first, you thought maybe he is still in his teen spirit dirtbag era, but it wasn't the case. For every flower that bloomed on your skin left the scars of the openings. It pained a lot at first, but you got used to it. You wanted to end this connection. It was tiring for you. As you would sob about how tough your life get, another flower would bloom open in your arms, like a lover sending his love a bouquet of flowers. You would smile a little, maybe you weren't alone in the sufferings of this world, maybe your soulmate is too, and maybe, just maybe you both could fill the emptiness in your heart with each other.

You were walking on the street returning from your job when suddenly a sharp throbbing pain arises in your forehead. Did you forget to take your medicine? Is it because of you using your phone? Are you getting heartburn? What ever the reason was, it pained so much, it felt like someone wants to burst your head open with all the forces they got. You drop on your knees, holding the pain, it hurts so much, and you didn't even know what was the cause of that. People surrounded you, calling for an ambulance, and shifting you to a hospital. The last thing you remembered were the shocking faces of people and the concerned medical team trying to talk to you. And then, you lost consciousness.

Dazai was devastated, how could chuuya shoot his head thrice? "CHUUYAAA HOW COULD YOUUUU" Dazai whined, forgetting that his soulmate existed somewhere. Maybe he was selfish, maybe people would call him a person who lacked feelings, but did it matter when the world's fate was in his hands? Chuuya did nothing but shake his head in disapproval, as both of them were on their way to walk out of the prision. Dazai whistled led all his way walking, annoying chuuya every second he got. "Can you stop being annoying?" "Come on shorthat, we have been doing this since the long time" Dazai replied, his arm around Chuuya's shoulder as they walk, "Cant believe i still have to bend my knees to get to your height".

A brief moment of silence passed when Dazai wined in pain….No it wasn't the usual physical pain he felt for the first time, it was something intense and deep, an emotion he had never felt before….it felt like his soul would ripe apart if he breathe any longer and then he felt numb.

"Are you going to just stand still? we have the world to save you know?" Chuuya remarked, rolling his eyes as he opens the door stepping outside for others to see that infact they were alive. Dazai does nothing but remained silent at his remark, before walking out the door. Suddenly he felt something on his forehead, it was a withered leaf, sticking on his forehead. Maybe it came with the wind, yeah maybe.

His soulmate had died and it was way to long gone before he could have realized.

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

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[d0youc0py]

heyy saw your post ab requests!!

can you do simon and konig seeing their s/o for first time without makeup, but she's rlly insecure and overthinking it, while he's totally clueless bc he doesn't think much of it until he realizes she's acting kinda weird. ending with comfort/fluff plss

“You’re mad at me?”

The question rang through your head causing a flood of confusion.

“What? No Konnie.” You assured.

“Why won’t you look at me? You’re barely talking to me. I did something to upset you.” Those sad blue puppy dog eyes nearly killed you. You rapidly shook your head.

“Konnie I would tell you if you did something. I just”- You cut yourself off. You knew Konig was the exact opposite of materialistic and vain, so you didn’t exactly know how to tell him how you were feeling without getting laughed at. “I’m not wearing makeup.” You said slowly. He squinted his eyes leaning forward. He didn’t stop til your noses were touching.

“I like it.” He stated. “You’re mad at me because I didn’t notice.” He also stated. You rolled your eyes.

“No Konnie!” You couldn’t really even hold back a smile. The fact that he was missing your point completely actually made you feel a bit better. Maybe you really didn’t look that different. “I just don’t feel pretty.” His eyes widened.

“How can you say that?” He mumbled. “I don’t like you saying things like that.” He grabbed the empty plate in front of you and began washing it. He muttered a few things under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

“What?” You pressed. He didn’t answer you and continued washing the dishes. Once he was done he sat back down with you. This was a common thing with Konig. Him needing time to plan out what he was going to say. At first it felt insincere- having to plan out exactly what you were going to say to a person. Then you realized it just made him all the more honest. He genuinely thought about things- instead of just giving the first answer that popped into his head.

“What do I call you?” He asked suddenly.

“Schön.”

“What does it mean?” He continued.

“Uh, Sweetheart?”

“No, that’s Schatz.” He said shaking his head. “It means beautiful.” That was enough to make your eyes light up. Schön was his preferred nickname for you when you were alone. It was usually mumbled against your skin, but other times it was spoken so proudly as if it were a fact. He held out his arms for you. You accepted his invitation and crawled into his lap.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered.

“Again.”

“Simon.” You groaned. “Can we do this later? My throat hurts.”

“Do you feel it?”

You paused.

“Again.” He insisted.

“I’m beautiful.” You muttered looking at yourself in the mirror. If anything this was worsening your self esteem. Having to stare at yourself next to your god of a boyfriend. Simon shot you a glare in the mirror.

He thought affirmations would help. After you had a small breakdown in the living room when he said you looked different. He didn’t mean it in a bad way at all, but that’s what you heard.

“When Johnny does this it works.” He muttered back, rubbing his jaw. Flashes of the Scot yelling affirmations to himself in the mirror before every mission flashed through his mind.

“That’s cause Johnny is hot.”

Cue another glare.

“You know what I mean. He just rolls out of bed- so do you. Do you know how much work I have to put in to not look ugly?”

“What did you just say?” His voice was so stern it caused you to jump. “You called yourself ugly?” He looked offended. His molten eyes were hard- but there was something else there. Hurt- maybe anger. Probably both.

“You know what I mean.” You sighed.

“No actually I don’t.” He spat. “Why do you talk to yourself like that? Makes me sick.” He growled.

“It doesn’t really have anything to do with you Si. It’s just how I feel without makeup.” You tried to explain. He wasn’t having it.

“It does have something to do with me. You think I have bad taste? That I’m attracted to ugly people? Well I’m not. I’m not saying I like you just because of your looks, you have a lot going for you, but you sure as hell aren’t here just cause you can make me laugh.” He shot back.

“Well you’ve only seen me with makeup.” You reminded. His brows furrowed.

“You’re still here yeah? I haven’t kick you out. You know why?” He took a step forward holding your face between his hands. “You are one of the most beautiful things that have ever happened to me. Don’t you ever insult my taste again, because I know beauty when I see it. Understand?”

A soft smile spread across his face when your glow came back. You smiled widely.

“Yes Sir.”

[amourtoken]

so I literally cannot stop thinking abt this here u go

god kink Noah and softie Christian reader

I already know I'm going to hell so no need to remind me ik this is filth but that's what's fun abt it also basing the looks of the building off of this big ass church I used to go to and it's very weird and industrial so apologies if it's confusing

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: sacrilege lmao, degradation, raw sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, Noah kinda thinks he's better than everyone else, maybe bc he thinks he's God idk, corruption, loss of virginity, experienced Noah, dirty talk, slightly public, belly bulge, dacryphilia

♡ Noah's only at church cause he has to be, otherwise why the fuck would he waste his morning here. He sits through the awful music and wonders how all of these people live such a lie, its pathetic to him. The only thing that makes it bearable is the pretty little thing in the little white sundress that never fails to show up every Sunday.

♡ he thinks you're so cute. Brainwashed, but cute. All he ever thinks abt is how he could desecrate you and how you'd look so much prettier worshipping him.

♡ Noah is damn near your exact opposite, covered in tattoos, always wearing dark colors. He never really talks to anyone either, keeping to himself. You'd say he was miserable if you didn't see his face soften a little every time you catch his eye. You try to make a point and interact with him every chance you get, maybe he's lonely? You can't let that happen. He's the worship leader's son, you'd think he'd be having a better time but who knows what's going through his head.

♡ Noah almost feels bad that he can't keep his thoughts in order when you walk up to him, pretty smile plastered on your face. You're chattering about today's service and he's picturing his hands on your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin while he bucks up into you and gets to hear those pretty little noises he's sure you'd make. All he'd have to do is pull your dress up too, it'd be easy. He's nodding along with your conversation and trying to seem interested but it's getting harder and harder to pretend he's listening.

♡ his eyes drifting to the neckline of your dress which is pretty modest but God he'd be able to pull it down so easy, tease your nipples while you grind yourself on his thigh and whine for him to fill you up. His eyes snap back to your face which is etched with concern.

"Noah, are you feeling alright? You seem out of it."

♡ he could lie, but what's the point. Isn't lying a sin?

"I'm fine. Just thinking about how pretty you'd look split on my cock."

♡ did he really say that??? You weren't sure how to even respond. Or if you should at all. You were flushed down to your chest and Noah admired the pretty pink tinge to your skin. He was almost nervous he'd fucked up but he knew what to say to have you following him like a little sheep. If you can sit through service every week and genuinely believe the shit his father is saying, you'll do anything if it's said in the right tone.

"Bet you've never even fucked before, have you? Saving yourself for marriage and all that bullshit. You know I could make you feel good, you should let me show you."

♡ you're still stunned, standing like a little deer in some headlights. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find Noah attractive but you felt like he wasn't in the cards for you. He's everything you're not, but maybe that's what's so enticing about him. How he talked about your beliefs stung a little but you couldn't help the way your thighs pressed together at the thought of him and his suggestion. He'd never hurt you, right? You can trust him, why would he wrong you?

♡ Noah nodded toward one of the exit doors, turning to leave and hoping you'd follow. You nearly tripped over your own feet trying to catch up with him. Your brain felt fuzzy and you knew whatever he was gonna put you through was horrifically sinful but you can be forgiven for being curious, right? Noah locked the door behind you, leaving you both in an empty stairwell. Hopefully no one tried to interrupt the two of you, because Noah was immediately to work. He walked you backwards until your back was pressed to the concrete wall and he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling until you whimpered and keened against his hand for some relief.

"The only fucking God in this building is me. I expect you to treat me like such."

"You answer to me, and you follow my fucking directions, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"

♡ you felt your heart race terribly in your chest from how close he was, you felt like a prey animal being stalked by a predator. You really didn't know what to expect, you've never done this before. You shouldn't be doing this at all...what have you gotten yourself into...

♡ Noah surprisingly sinks to his knees in front of you, hands brushing at your knees and sliding up your thighs, hiking up your dress as he goes. His long fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties to tug them down and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, without warning burying his face in your pussy making you yelp and tangle your fingers in his hair for some balance.

(Something like this yk)

♡ you pulled his hair tightly between your fingers, whining while he lapped at your pussy and groaned against you when you pulled a little too hard. You felt pricks of pins and needles all over your body, it felt like a swarm of butterflies populated your lower stomach. Oh god...one of his hands steadied itself on your thigh but the other slid up to glide between your folds, gathering the slick mess before prodding at your entrance making you squirm. He was right, you hadn't done this before. He wanted you to enjoy yourself though, that's why he was taking the time to stretch you out and make you cum, so you could actually take his cock afterwards.

♡ the fingers at your entrance slid in slowly, stretching you out and scissoring slightly to spread you further. Your legs were shaking and the swarm in your belly felt 100x worse. You were worried you couldn't hold yourself up much longer...Noah pressed his fingers as deep as he could fit them, brushing your cervix and curving up to press right into the most sensitive spot he could. He laughed against your pussy when he felt you clench around his fingers, teeth brushing your clit and making you whimper pathetically above him. He was the one on his knees and you were unraveling. Pitiful.

"You gonna cum for me? Can't let you take this cock till you cum, won't fit."

♡ when he nudges a 3rd finger in you completely come undone, tugging his face closer to you and nearly crying while you grind into him through your orgasm. He speeds his fingers up inside of you until you're squirming and begging him to stop. He withdraws and stands back up, reminding you he towers over you at his full height and he licks your slick off of his fingers right in front of you. You're still panting and your legs feel shaky, this isn't helping.

♡ Noah thinks you look adorable so shaken up, he can't help but admire how your chest is rising so quickly and your face is flushed. He did that to you. He's gonna do so much more too. He backs you into the wall again and runs his hands down your thighs, picking you up and pressing your back into the wall for extra support while your legs wrapped around his waist. You threw your arms around his neck to steady yourself but he wasn't gonna drop you, he could hold you up for hours if he needed to. Again though, he thinks you're adorable and lets you think he could drop you just to get your heart racing again.

♡ he holds you up with one arm while freeing his achingly hard cock with the other. You didn't even really get a chance to see it, but when he drug the tip through the slick mess between your legs you could describe the feeling as dread. He felt huge. Noah leaned his head against your neck, pressing soft kisses up to your ear and nipping at the soft skin.

"Gotta relax for me, promise I'll make you feel so good...trust me"

"Can't wait to feel how tight this pussy is, can't believe I'm your first. Bet I'll be the last too."

"Gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else, gonna be mine forever, yeah?"

"So much for staying pure, hm? All it took was one little comment and here you are letting me fuck you raw in a stairwell. Wonder how your god feels about that."

♡ he'd planned on taking it slow but after sinking in just a few inches he couldn't help himself. He trusted up into you, hilting himself in one move and sank his teeth deep into your shoulder to try and muffle the groan that escaped his chest. He slapped a hand over your mouth as he sank in and thank God he did because the sound you made was nothing short of a scream. Big tears welled in your eyes even after all the work he did to prep you, the stretch of taking his cock felt almost too much. Noah was loving every moment, watching you fall apart for him. He pressed a large hand to your stomach as he started fucking himself into you just to feel how deep he fit in your poor body.

"O-oh god-"

"The only fucking god you should be praying to is me."

♡ your whimpers and moans were nonstop but thankfully muffled against his palm, he didn't want anyone interrupting you. You gripped his cock just fucking right and he doubted he could really last long but he needed to have you unravel on his dick before he could finish. Noah reached up and tugged the front of your dress down, leaning to absolutely cover your chest in hickeys and lick at your overly sensitive nipples, your whines pitched up when his teeth got a little too rough but he couldn't help but admire his work. Your pretty soft skin marred with teeth marks and bruises. There's no way you could walk back out there and have no one notice, everyone would know exactly what you did, and who you did it with. Perfect.

"bet you've been thinking about this just as much as I have, huh bunny? Needed to get fucked, needed to get filled up by some fat cock, yeah? Tell me."

"Your little god was keeping you from this, does he really feel better than me? Wanna hear you say it."

"Gonna cum again for me, bunny? Need to feel you squeeze this cock, you can do it. I got you."

♡ your head fell back against the hard wall as he fucked into you, the coil in your stomach tightened unbearably. Every thrust sank as deep as he could possibly get and made your legs shake in his hold. Noah was chasing your pleasure as much as his own, he loved seeing your pretty little pathetic expressions. He slid a hand between your bodies and barely even had a chance to brush your clit as you came. His arm around you tightened to keep you still as he fucked you through it, tears spilling from your eyes and ruining your pretty makeup.

"S-shit- that's it- good girl, feels good yeah? So good for me-"

"That's it, tell me who's making you feel this good baby say my fuckin' name- n-need to hear it"

♡ his thrusts picked up in intensity, fingers sinking into your hips hard enough to leave Bruises and he sank in impossibly deep as he shuddered through his own end, you whined at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up and the extra dripping out of you making a mess on the floor under you. It took a second for Noah to set you back down on shaky legs, he helped you straighten your dress back out before pulling you in for an uncharacteristically gentle kiss. He felt like he was a little harsh on you but he was happy you actually would do something like this with him finally.

"So pretty...we should do this again sometime, yeah?"

[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.

[yourimagines]

Hi, can you perhaps write a one shot about the new fallout series. Perhaps about Maximus?

love your stories ❤️

Sure, I really like the series, as a gamer myself.

I hope you like this one ❤️

Wanderer

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: Swearing, Blood, and Fluff

Y/N POV

The sun was shining down on me as I walked through the desert waste land. Sweat and blood were dripping down my skin, a bullet hole was on my right side of my shoulder and the headache I was having was getting worse by the minute. “I think I’m going crazy…” A loud explosion was heard in the distance, a shot of pain shoot through my head, causing me to shut my eyes. “Ahh…” my hand went up to my face as I fell down on my knees. “Please don’t let me die…” I slowly opened my eyes, trying to stay awake. My vision was blurry and my knees started to hurt from all the hot sand beneath them. I slowly fell flat down on my chest as a shadow started to cover me, I tilted my head up and saw something standing close to me. My eyes slowly rolled back and my face fell down again as I lost my consciousness.

Everything was pitch black, a weird uncomfortable feeling was flowing through my body. I felt heavy but also light, as something was carrying me. I tried everything, moving my arms, opening my eyes but nothing happened so panic started to creep in. I felt trapped in my own body without knowing what was happening to me.

Maximus POV

I saw a beautiful young woman wandering all alone under the desert sun, she was almost passed out when I spotted her. She’s probably wounded and dehydrated from all the heat. So I thought let’s go help her out, look if she needs some help but when I finally got to her she fell down, losing her consciousness. “I’ve got you.” I carefully picked her up and carried her out of the burning sun. She looked beautiful, she’s not from up here as her blue, yellow clothing and she wasn’t smelling bad, she had access to water. She could be from a vault or something.

I lay her down on the cold floor and checked her for some injuries. She had a view cuts and one bullet hole on the right side of her shoulder. I carefully took a better look at her shoulder and saw that the bullet went all the way through her shoulder, meaning it wasn’t there anymore. “You need a sting pack immediately.” I got out of my suit and grabbed the sting pack from my left arm. I kneeled down next to her and carefully injected the needle into her soft skin. “You’re going to be okay.”

Y/N POV

I woke up all alone in an old building with a sore shoulder. “Urgh…” my head was still pounding from all the heat and dehydration. I slowly sat up and saw a young man sitting in front of me, smiling at me. “Hi.” His voice sounded low and soft as he greeted me. “Hi.” My voice sounded a bit hoarse and not so sweet as usual. “You passed out because you were wounded, I fixed that problem for you.” He pointed at my shoulder. “Thank you….” “Maximus. My name is Maximus.” I nodded and took a look at my shoulder. “Why? Why did you help me, Maximus?” My shoulder was still hurting but the wound itself was looking way better than it was before. “Why not?” I looked back at him, he looked a bit confused. “Because we don’t know each other, I could have killed you.” He shrugged his shoulders and looks down at his hands. “Maybe but you needed help. And I do the right thing by helping people.”

Maximus POV

She was right but that’s not how I want to be, ignoring the people who need my help. I’m a knight now and I should help them. “Okay, well maybe I can help you out then, so tell me where are you heading?” “Las Vegas, I’m on a mission to save the world.” I saw her lips curl up, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Yeah, I know it sounds stupid…” she shook her head as her cheeks got a rosy colour. “No it’s not, I-I’m also on my way to Las Vegas.” I was surprised, she was going to the same place. “Why?” “To find the person who shot me.” She pointed at her shoulder. “Okay, well we could go together, I mean it’s better than travelling alone.” She nodded and stood up. “Okay, let’s go then.” I smiled and stood up as well. “Have you ever flown before?”

She was clinging onto the suit as I flew us through the air. “Are you okay?” She had her eyes closed, probably afraid of falling down. She only nodded and I knew that I needed to land. I slowly went down and wrapped my arm around her as my feet touched the ground. She carefully opened her eyes and saw we were back on the ground. “We walk the rest.” I slowly placed her down on the ground. She nods and starts to walk.

Y/N POV

Max was a great companion to have in these harsh conditions. The loneliness was getting to my head and everyone I met wanted to kill me, just because I’m from a vault. “We should take a rest.” His robotic voice said to me. “Yeah, my legs hurt.” I sat down against an old wall, just out of the sun. He did the same but still in his suit. “You should take some sleep, you need it for your shoulder.” I wasn’t sure about that one, sleeping with a stranger. Yes he saved me but who says he doesn’t do anything to me, like selling me for caps. “I won’t do anything to you, I trust you and you should trust me. We are companions now.” I nodded and tried to get comfortable but everything felt uncomfortable. “I can’t, my shoulder hurts and the sand irritates my skin.” I felt a mental breakdown coming up as my eyes started to prick. “Come here.” He patted on his lap and I got shy. “Uhh you sure?” He nods and moved his legs a bit, getting comfortable by himself. I moved shyly to him and crawled into his lap. “Better right?” I was blushing very hard and hide my face against his metal chest. “I’ll keep watch, just rest a bit.”

I don’t want to admit it but I slept very good on his metal suit. His suit was cold outside the sun and it made me feel better. “Are you okay?” He asks me as we walked through the dessert again. “Yes, are you?” He nods and looks around. “I think we are almost there.” I stayed close to him as we walked over a hill. “I think we are here.” I said as I pointed to the city down the hill. “Well, thank you for your company Maximus.” I said to him, he nodded slowly and looked back at the town. “You sure you want to do this on your own?” I sighed and nodded. “Yes, we both have a different mission to achieve, but after this I would love to be your companion again.” He walks over to me and his large robotic hand moved up to my head. “Be careful.” I smiled up at him, feeling the butterflies in my stomach. “I will, be careful as well Max.” With that I walked away from him, heading to my own battle I had to fight as he flew over me, to fight his battle on his own.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 3

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, cunnilingus, missionary, references to rape, dub-con, dom!beomgyu, sub!reader

You’ve decided you were overthinking everything. Your dreams mean nothing. Your dream about Taehyun meant nothing. It was just your stressed brain being weird. Though it was awkward being around him for a couple of days after that dream and feeling that inexplicable feeling of guilt and—you’d never say it outloud–love springs up your throat every time your eyes meet.

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to think about it too much today when there is something much more distracting to deal with. 

"What's with your eye?” You ask Taehyun, noting the eyepatch he was wearing. “Is it a stye?" 

He shakes his head, grinning as he pulls the eyepatch aside to reveal a black eye. You gasp. "Oh my god! Did you get in a fight?"

"You could say that.” He shrugs, grin still in full effect. “I'm a wrestler."

“Oh. That is… not shocking.” You frown, making him laugh. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You seem to be the type.” You say as you give him a once over. Despite his sweet and innocent looks, he had a kind of roughness about him that gave him away. “Yesterday when you were helping me with the door of the back room, you nearly ripped it off its hinges.” 

“You said it was stuck so I expected more resistance. I just didn’t account for your chicken arms.” He teases, making you gasp, affronted. “How dare you? Check out these guns.” 

You pull up the sleeves of your shirt, flexing said chicken arms in various wrestler poses. “I bet I can even take you, Mr. fighter.” 

“I bet you can.” Something about the way he says that, low and a little hoarse brings a blush to your cheeks, a certain double entendre you’re not sure he meant hanging in the air, but you decide to just barrel past it. You can’t let your stupid brain keep overthinking the smallest things. You refuse to let in that weird sense of intimacy and familiarity that your dreams have conjured up seep into your reality and your relationship with him. You’re purely coworkers, maybe tentative friends, nothing more.  

“Damn right.” You declare, satisfied. “Now let me take a look at that eye. My mother is a nurse, you know?”

“Is she?” He sits down obediently, letting you examine his eye closely. You start by making sure the eye itself isn’t hurt and that his vision is clear, getting him to follow your finger to test his eye movements and making him read a few things at a distance, before you move on to the possible brain injury. “You didn’t pass out, did you?”

“No.”

“Did you vomit?”

“Nope.” 

“Had any seizures?”

“No.” 

“Do you remember everything?” 

“I wish I didn’t.” He snorted. “Damn bastard floored me with that punch.” 

You wince as you imagine that kind of impact that would bring him down and cause such a black eye. Instinctively, you reach forward to brush your thumb gently under his bruised eye. “Aw, does it hurt?” 

“It feels better now.” He smiles, looking at you strangely, and your heart skips a beat. Okay, surely you’re not just imagining this, are you? Your brain can’t be that much of an asshole. 

But before you can attempt to make sense of the way he’s acting, an angry voice cuts through the delicate moment savagely.  

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your boyfriend’s voice is like ice water down your back, making you jump away from Taehyun immediately. You turn to him in shock.“Beomgyu! What are you doing here?” 

“Checking in on you, but I’ve clearly arrived at the wrong time.” He spits, eyeing Taehyun angrily, and you quickly realize the source of the misunderstanding, waving your hands in the air in denial, trying to dispel whatever erroneous conclusions you’re sure his mind came up with. Damn it, it’s bad enough dealing with Beomgyu’s jealousy without you unintentionally feeding it. “It’s nothing. I was just checking his black eye. He got injured at a match.” 

“He’ll get another one if he doesn’t step away from you.” Beomgyu threatens and you hear Taehyun snort from next to you. “Yeah, right. As if you could ever land a punch on me.” 

Goddammit, Taehyun. You’re trying to de-escalate things here!

“Wanna see?” Beomgyu growls, rising up to the challenge immediately and charging forward. But you quickly step between him and Taehyun, not wanting a fight to break out in the middle of your workplace. 

"Beomgyu calm down. You’re making a scene." You whisper, noticing how the customers' eyes have turned to you. But of course, Beomgyu doesn’t care, his anger and jealousy getting the best of him. "Am I? I'm sorry, should I wait for you to fuck him on the counter first?"

Humiliation sears your skin at his accusation, said so loudly and easily in front of your coworkers and everyone in the shop. You’re so embarrassed you could cry, but that would only humiliate you further. So you quickly grab his arm and pull him out the back and into the alleyway behind the cafe where no one can see you. 

You can’t believe he’s doing this again. He promised he will get himself under control. You’ve tried to reassure him that you only love him. You’ve tried again and again to put boundaries when he acts out, but then he completely crashes through them with no regard for you. Why should he when you always forgive him and take him back after his abhorrent behavior? It’s your fault. You’ve allowed him to go this far and now he’s out of control. You need to put an end to this.  

"I'm done. This is over. I'll come around later to get my stuff." You tell him, and his whole demeanor changes–all wrath is gone from his face and he turns into a wounded animal in the blink of an eye, shaking his head in denial as his eyes flood with tears. "No. No. You can't leave me. Not again."

"What the fuck are you talking about?” You shout harshly, and he flinches. God, why does that still make you feel bad despite everything he’s done to you? “I never left you. Maybe that's the problem."

“No, please, I'm sorry!” He wails, "I'm sorry I blew up. I'm sorry I made a scene. I just can’t stand to see him with you. I know he wants to take you from me."

His unwarranted conviction drives you mad. Does he really think every single guy is out to steal you from him? "You are insane."

 Another guy would take the hint and dial it down on the crazy, but not Beomgyu. As if to prove that insanity to you, he falls to his knees at your feet, grabbing onto your legs tightly. "Don't leave me. I can't live without you."

"Go home, Beomgyu.” You grit out, trying to hold yourself back from falling for his pathetic display because truthfully you’re just as pathetic as him. It’s easy to be stern and immovable when he’s angry and lashing out, but it’s another thing entirely when he acts so vulnerable. When he’s angry, he’s an asshole who is hurting you, but when he’s sad, he’s your loving boyfriend who just needs reassurance and care. 

"I can't. Not without you.” He insists, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I need space, Beomgyu.” 

“You know I can’t–” 

“I need space to calm down and forget what you've done so I won't leave you." You snap, finally making him take his hands off you, realizing that though it kills him, backing off for once might be the thing that saves your relationship this time. 

Still he needs that extra reassurance. “Do you promise you won’t leave?” 

“Beomgyu–”

“Please!” He hiccups, hanging onto the thread of hope. “Please promise me that you won’t just leave.” 

“I won’t.” You grits out. You can’t. You wish it was ever that fucking easy to leave him, but he’s got you hooked on him good. 

"Okay." He gets up shakily. "Can I have a kiss?"

Does he not know how to quit? Has he no sense of awareness of the situation? Can’t he tell how much he has pushed you? "No."

You try to be firm in your decision, try to make him take you seriously once and for all, but when you see him sniffle and his lips tremble, it’s hard to stay strong. 

"Please. Just in case." He shakes under your harsh gaze that softens every time his breath hitches as he tries to hold himself together. 

God, this is exactly why he behaves this way, because it always works. 

You grab him by the back of the head, kissing his lips roughly, more teeth than anything, biting down on his lower lip in punishment, hard enough to taste blood, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. He clutches onto you desperately, opening his mouth up for you to thrust your tongue inside, making him taste his own blood. 

It’s a job to get him off you, but eventually you manage to disentangle yourself from him. “Go home now.” 

“Will you come home after work?” He prods, and you run your hand through your hair in frustration. “Is this giving me space?” 

“I just–” 

“I’ll be home by bedtime. I’ll probably walk around or hang out with friends to decompress.” You explain to him, even though you know you really shouldn’t. He has no right to know where you’re going, not after the shit he just pulled but you know he won’t leave you if you don’t reassure him. 

“Which friends? Are you going to–” 

“I have to get back to work, Beomgyu.” You cut him off sharply, unwilling to give him more. Truthfully, you don’t even know what you’ll do. You don’t know if you even wanna hang out with your friends. You can’t handle them telling you ‘I told you so’ for the hundredth time and pushing you to break up with Beomgyu. “I know you want me to get fired so I only have time for you but I actually wanna keep this job.”

He winces at your accusation but you don’t wait for him to defend himself, turning your back on him and walking into the coffee shop. 

Getting back into work is mortifying as you try to dodge the gazes of others that are at best curious and at worst judgmental and accusatory. Most of all, you try to avoid Taehyun, not knowing what to say to him after he witnessed your boyfriend’s outburst against him. 

But it’s hard to hide in such a small shop, and Taehyun is on you just a few minutes after stepping back inside. To your surprise however, he isn’t angry or reproachful. In fact, he doesn’t mention it directly at all.

“Hey you wanna blow off some steam after work?” He asks you, completely casual and you breathe a sigh of relief, nodding. You really could use some stress relief. You know you can’t go home to Beomgyu like this. You’re so mad you’re afraid you’ll do or say something you regret. 

What worries you even more is that you think whatever you would do to him, Beomgyu would take it, and you don’t want to be that person. You don’t want to perpetuate this sickness. 

________________________________

Taehyun takes you boxing. It’s definitely a bit unusual but when he said it would help you blow off some steam, he wasn’t kidding. 

“Hit it harder. Take out all your rage onto it.” Taehyun instructs you, then adds cheekily, “Imagine it’s your boyfriend’s face if you need to.” 

You scoff. If Beomgyu was here, he’d definitely lose it with how close Taehyun is to you, his hands fluttering between your waist and shoulder to correct your position, and wrapping around your arms to teach you how to correctly swing. 

“Like that?” You ask, punching the bag the way he taught you to. You’re not strong enough to have it swinging like he does, but he still praises you for doing it right. 

“Yup, good job. Soon enough you’ll be able to deck Beomgyu in the face.” He jokes and you send him a glare. 

“I don’t want to punch Beomgyu.” You say, delivering another hard swing at the punching bag, putting your full weight into it. 

“Are you sure about that?” He raises his eyebrows, watching you pummel the bag. 

“I’m just frustrated.” You grit, raining punches with both fists until you feel your arms getting sore. “Why does he have to act like such an asshole? He knows I love him. He knows he’s the only one for me. Why is he so insecure? He’s such a fucking idiot. He makes me so goddamn mad!”

You step away from the bag, panting for breath. Clumsily, you push away the sweaty hair out of your face with the gloves still on as you try to calm down your overheated body. “You’re right. This did help.” 

You give the bag one last punch before you take off the boxing gloves and slump onto a chair, exhaustion settling into your bones. You hear Taehyun snicker as he takes your place and starts his exercise. 

You watch him workout. You admit, he looks good doing it. Dressed in a white sleeveless top, his muscles bulge and tense every time his arms shoot forward to smack the bag. The look of concentration on his face and the way his jaw clenches makes him look all the hotter. 

His punches are fast and accurate, and you cringe a bit at the idea of someone being at the receiving end of them, but you still find it attractive. You never got the appeal of the strong, macho man some girls swoon over, always preferring the soft cute types yourself, but watching Taehyun go to town on that punching bag, sweat starting to drip down his glistening skin… you finally get it. 

Apparently, your ogling wasn’t as subtle as you thought, especially when Taehyun pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing his hard abs to your curious eyes. 

“Like what you see?” Taehyun smirks, dropping the shirt back down and you blush, looking away. “Bet he doesn’t look like this.” 

“Shut up.” You grumble, standing up. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?” 

You realize how dry your throat has become and take it as an advantage to get out of this messy situation you’ve gotten yourself in. But Taehyun shakes his head. “You stay put. I’ll go get the drinks.” 

You graciously accept the offer, telling him what you’d like to have, and he dips out of the practice room to get you something out of the vending machine and you take the opportunity to cool off. 

God, what is wrong with you? Do you like Taehyun? Why the fuck are you thirsting like that over him? Ever since you’ve gotten with Beomgyu, you can honestly say you’ve never wanted to be with another man. Beomgyu just fulfilled all your needs, emotionally and physically. Being with him felt like finally finding your other half, your soul’s resting place. It’s cliche but it truly felt like you were made for each other. How can anyone else compare? 

But now that his jealousy and controlling behavior has gotten out of control, you find yourself pulling away from him, the illusion of the perfect one for you slowly shattering by his own hand. Is that why you’re having these weird feelings towards Taehyun? Like Beomgyu, you feel like you’re connected to Taehyun somehow. Despite the relatively short duration you’ve known him, it feels like you’ve known each other for years. You yearn for him in a way you have no control over and you don’t like it. You’re just proving Beomgyu right with his unhinged paranoia. 

Seriously, fuck Beomgyu for putting these thoughts into your head. You were completely fine with Taehyun before he made a big deal out of nothing. 

When Taehyun comes back, he hands you a can of soda and you gladly pop it open, gulping down the cool liquid with relief. 

“So when did you start boxing?” You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his Adam's apple bops as he swallows. 

“Since I was a kid basically.” He shrugs, explaining further at your questioning look. “I didn’t have the best home life and boxing helped me blow off some steam and got me away from it for a bit.”

“Ah.” You hum awkwardly, twirling the can in your hands. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s alright. I’ve left it behind now, trying to make a life of my own. That is why I was so glad that you told me about the job at the cafe. It’s a chill job that allows me to make some money to support myself and still be able to pursue my studies.” 

“Right. Music. Didn’t peg you for that guy. I mean, boxing sure but didn’t think you’re the artistic type.” You grin, feeling a bit giddy at his faux offended look. 

“Hey, I have a sensitive side too.” He defends, “And I’ve been told I have the voice of an angel.” 

“Someone's humble.” You laugh, and he shrugs. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.” 

“Let’s hear it then, angel.” 

He gives you a look at that, and you open your mouth to apologize, not sure if you’d crossed a line, but then he coughs, clearing his throat a bit and starts to sing. 

I know that sweet love song

The words we said through our oath

If I turn around, eventually

They'll just end up being an unfamiliar someone

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic

I want to run away, far away

My heart is already chasing after you

And burning with small embers

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic

I don't believe anymore in being romantic

As my entire heart burns

I'm afraid that only black ashes will remain

He really does have the voice of an angel, so sweet and soothing. You listen quietly to the whole song, a small smile on your face despite the song’s pessimistic message. But something about his voice tugs at a distant memory in your brain, the feeling like a word on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t quite remember. It’s a disquieting feeling that clashes with the sweet honey of his voice. 

You don’t let it show though. You know he wouldn’t understand. And once he’s done singing, you clap enthusiastically. 

“Thank you. Thank you.” He graciously accepts the applause, a pleased grin on his face. 

“Wonderful. Showstopping. Angelic.” You pour out exaggeratedly and he laughs. “I told you.” 

“You did.” You admit, no point teasing him about his cockiness when you like his voice so much. “I never heard that song before. Did you write it yourself?” 

“Yup.” 

“Now I get how you’re into music if your songs are this dejected.” But you can tease him about the subject matter. You’re impressed with his talent but if you had to come up with a song that Taehyun would compose, it would’ve sounded exactly like this. 

“I’m just being a realist.” He tells you and you cock your head to the side, intrigued. “You don’t believe in romance?”

“No. I’ve seen how it goes too many times and it always ends in heartbreak and tears at best.” 

You frown, finding it sad that his experiences have made him arrive at this bleak conclusion. “It’s not always like that. Some people have happy relationships.” 

“Yeah, do you know of anyone who has an actually happy relationship?”He challenges and you wrack your brain trying to think of one. Your parents? Definitely not. Your sisters? Nope. Your friends? Hah. Still, you refuse to admit it. You’re a hopeless romantic and you refuse to accept his cynical worldview. If love only ever ends in heartbreak then what even is the point of living? “Just because the people I know aren’t the poster children for happy relationships doesn’t mean there are none.” 

“Are you even happy with Beomgyu?” He prods, catching you off guard. 

You were. Things were perfect between you. He was the best boyfriend you could have ever wished for at the beginning. He was so sweet and loving and gentle, being with him felt like coming home, but slowly things started to unravel until it got to the point you’re at right now and you’re too scared to admit that things may never go back to the way they were before. If Beomgyu isn’t the one for you then who is? 

“Shut up and sing more.” You grumble, not wanting to think about it anymore.

Taehyun grins, not pushing anymore, satisfied with his win, and obliges you. He sings a couple more songs for you, each of his own making, and you eagerly listen to him, closing your eyes and getting lost in the warmth of his voice, asking for more every time he finishes. 

He doesn’t complain, performing a mini-concert for you, helping soothe your nerves as you try to focus on his soothing voice and forget about the troubles you’ve been going through with Beomgyu and your confusing feelings for Taehyung.

But all the tension ricochets back into your body when he gets to the fourth song, the small smile you were wearing plummets into a frown and you sit up from your slumped position suddenly. You don’t know what it is about this song. It appears to be a simple lullaby, but just hearing it makes your heart hammer in your chest. 

Taehyun notices quickly and stops singing. “What’s wrong?” 

“Did you make up that song too?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No, it’s a song my mum used to sing me when I was a kid. Why?”

“I don’t know, something about it seems familiar.” You trail off, eyebrows furrowing as you try to recall where you heard it before. 

“I doubt it. My mum made it up.” He says, confused by your sudden change in mood. 

You’re confused too. You don’t understand. You just have this intense feeling of deja vu right now, something you’ve been feeling increasingly more frequently lately. Maybe you heard it in a dream? 

You shake your head, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and needing comfort, needing Beomgyu… “Never mind. I should probably get going.” 

You’re mad at him but he’s still the biggest source of comfort for you. He has a way to calm you down even if he’s the one who caused your anxiety. It all works out when it’s just the two of you. It’s only when other people get involved that everything falls apart…

“Already?” Taehyun asks, disappointed, and you look at the clock that says 10:46 pm and sigh. “Yeah. Beomgyu is probably freaking out by now. Even more than he already was.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to him then. You need some proper time away to think things through. You can’t let him keep getting away with this behavior.” He advises, his expression betraying his clear distaste for Beomgyu. Great, another friend who despises your boyfriend. You can’t deal with this right now. 

“He’s just insecure.” You find yourself defending him once again, feeling weary and covering your face with your hands. “I don't know why. it's not like every guy that ever meets me will fall in love with me. You don't even like me.” 

"I do like you." Taehyun says simply and you snap your head up and gape at him. "What?"

He shrugs as if this doesn’t fuck everything up even more. "I like you and I think you deserve better than your shitty boyfriend."

You shake your head, standing up, feeling angry at yourself. Of course, he likes you. Beomgyu smelled it from a mile away. Why else would he be so nice to you? Why else would he care so much to hang out with you and calm you down when he’s probably tired from his shift? This was obviously a mistake and you’re a stupid girl who is playing into it while your boyfriend is probably breaking down at home. "Beomgyu is a good boyfriend. He loves me." 

Taehyun stands up too, getting a bit forceful now. “You’re deluding yourself. What he’s doing isn’t healthy, and he’ll only continue to get worse because you let him.” 

What does he know? How do you know he’s not just trying to break you up with your boyfriend so he could get with you? Beomgyu probably could tell that Taehyun liked you from the start and that’s why he was so averse to you being around him. Obviously that doesn’t excuse how out of pocket he acted today but he still wasn’t completely wrong. 

“I should go.” You mutter, quickly gathering your things. 

“Let me take you home then.” He offers and you snort. Yeah right, like that wouldn’t make Beomgyu’s brain melt. 

“I'll just take an uber.” 

Taehyun attempts to argue but you shut him down. 

_____________________________

Beomgyu is waiting near the door when you get back, curled up onto himself as he rocks back and forth, looking like a broken mess, and your heart can’t help but clench painfully at the miserable sight of him despite everything he’s done. You can’t bear to see him hurt, especially knowing that Taehyun liked you after all and he wasn’t being totally paranoid. 

"You're back!" He stops rocking and untangles his arms from his body. You see the tension in his body, like he wants to spring forward and take you in his arms but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. "I thought I lost you." 

"I'm right here." You sigh, opening your arms up, giving him the signal he needed to stand up and engulf you in his arms. 

“I’m sorry, baby–” He begins his long plea. You’ve heard it many times by now–he’s sorry he acted irrationally, he’s sorry he gets jealous and out of control, he promises he’ll do better– but you’re honestly not in the mood for it right now. You just want to pretend none of this happened tonight, least of all because you feel some kind of guilt over hanging out alone with Taehyun and letting him touch you when he secretly had feelings for you just like Beomgyu was afraid of. 

“Shut up, Beomgyu.” You grab his face and kiss him. 

He lets you do it. Beomgyu would never reject a kiss from you, but once your bruising kiss leaves his lips and travels to his jaw, he voices his concern. “Are you sure, princess? Don’t you wanna t-talk about it?” 

Princess? He’s bringing out the big guns. There is no use arguing with Beomgyu right now. You already know what he’s going to say so you bite down on his neck, making his breath hitch as your hands trail up his waist towards his nipples, rubbing them with your thumbs over the thin material of his shirt and making him gasp. “Just shut up and be good for once, Beomgyu. Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t even think about how mad I am at you right now.” 

You feel him gulp under your lips, and the next thing you know he is carrying you by your ass and dropping you onto the couch. He quickly takes off every shred of fabric on your body, following suit, before he gets on the ground in front of you and buries his face in your pussy. 

Beomgyu is a very talented lover, especially with his tongue. He knows exactly what to do to get you going, and right now is no different. He eats you out as if he can convince you to stay just by using his mouth, and you have to admit, it is very persuasive. 

“Fuck, Gyu. Good boy.” You praise, encouraging him to do more, your hand in his hair guiding his mouth to where you want him. He eagerly lets you control him, pushing his tongue into your pussy while his lips pucker and suck around your hole. 

You feel yourself clench around his tongue, more of your arousal leaking around it until it covers his chin and parts of his cheeks. You pull his head up, whining as his tongue slips out of your pussy, but he quickly relieves the feeling of emptiness by pushing his fingers inside you, curling them up to hit that sensitive spot inside you that has you keening. 

He wasn’t going to be slow tonight, and you don’t want that. You cry as his mouth finds a new target in your clit, alternating between sucking it in his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, all while his fingers plunge in and out of you until you’re creaming on his face. 

“That’s it! Fuck, that’s it, baby.” You throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as your body shudders at the intense orgasm. Fuck, you needed this. 

Beomgyu doesn’t care about how hard you’ve got his hair fisted up in your hand. He keeps hungrily licking your pussy, not letting your arousal completely fade even as your orgasm passes. 

“Baby, wait, give me a second–” You gasp, feeling sensitive, and when Beomgyu pulls away you think he’ll give you break, but instead he pushes you down until you’re laying on your back on the couch and gets on top of you, lining his cock with your entrance 

“Wait–Beomgyu!” You cry as he shoves his cock inside of you, beginning to fuck you right away, not giving you a moment to breathe or calm down. 

“There you go, princess. Is this what you wanted?” He pants, hips slamming against yours as he fucks you roughly. 

It was what you wanted but you’re not sure now. You need a moment. “Baby, slow down…” You whine, your eyes squeezed tightly which Beomgyu doesn’t like. 

“Slow down? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you until you can’t think about how mad you are at me.” He taunts, slamming his hips against yours, his cock going so deep inside you you feel like you’re going to choke. Normally, you’d fucking love it but it’s suddenly too much for you. 

You shake your head, holding tightly onto his upper arms. “Please, baby, just slow down!”

But Beomgyu only fucks you harder. “Open your eyes, princess. Look at me while I’m fucking you.” 

“Beomgyu–” You beg but he seems too far gone, not realizing that you’re being serious. You feel a harsh smack against your thigh and he growls down at you. “Open your eyes.”  

You do, hardly seeing him with the tears in your eyes, but what you see scares you. “Gyu–”

“Am I fucking you hard enough? Or does my princess need me to fuck her dumb until she sees only me?” 

No, no. This is exactly what you asked for, but somehow it doesn’t feel good. The wildness of Beomgyu’s eyes, the roughness of his hands, don’t assure you of his need and devotion to you as always. Instead, they speak of a need to own, a desire to subjugate you or tear you apart. It fucking terrifies you. 

And suddenly, intrusive images come to mind. Images of bound limbs and golden suits, tears and anger. Images of Beomgyu forcing himself on you as you lie helpless and beg him to stop. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, shocked at what your mind is conjuring up. It’s not real but it feels real. You feel violated and scared and you just want it to stop. "Stop. Stop!"

“No. Don’t be a brat. You can take it.” Beomgyu chastises, still lost in his own head, the pleasure clouding his mind and not letting him see your pathetic state. 

“No. I can’t. Please. ” You sniffle, shaking your head weakly. 

“Don’t cry. You’ve made me wait so long for this pussy.” Prince Beomgyu drives his dick into you harder, making sure you’re fully deflowered.  "Take it. You were made for me. You can take it."

The images of prince Beomgyu looming over you just like he is right now, being so relentless and cruel as he takes what he wants from you are all you can see in front of you. It’s not a dream anymore. You’re wide awake, so why can you see them as if they were your own memories? God are you going crazy?

“Beomgyu?” You croak, trying to reach him through the images and his crazed headspace.

“I swear if you don’t shut the fuck up, I won’t bother being gentle.”

You quickly clamp your mouth shut at the ghostly threat, stopping any noise from getting out, stopping even your breathing, and that finally alerts Beomgyu to what is going on. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He stops moving and reaches out to touch you but you flinch. 

“Don’t touch me.” You cry, the damn breaking down and allowing tears to stream down your face. 

“What happened? Oh god. I didn’t know you were serious.” Beomgyu’s face goes pale and he looks like he’s going to be sick. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Get off me. Get off me.” You wail, pushing him away. He pulls out of you but doesn’t get off, wrapping you in his arms and trying to get you to calm down. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. You’re okay. You’re okay. I love you.” He coos, trying to sound reassuring but you can hear the panic and fear in his voice as he cradles you and rocks you back at forth, not paying any mind to you clawing at his back as you try to break free, letting you sob and cry until you tire yourself out and slowly, slowly down. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re safe with me. I’ll never leave.” 

His words of reassurance fail to have the effect he desires. Instead of soothing you, you find them suffocating and inescapable. You feel like you’ve been here many times before, each time adding to the heaviness of that oppressive weight pushing down on you until you don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. You just fall limp in his arms, and he finally pulls back to look at you. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and swipes away the drying tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you, baby. I didn’t mean to.” 

"I’m sorry. I just…” Prince Beomgyu struggles to find the words for a second. “I had to do what I had to do to keep you.” 

You shiver, looking away from him. 

"What is it? What’s happening? What are you thinking?" He asks worriedly, wanting to get into your brain to figure out what caused your sudden breakdown, needing to know so he can convince you it’s nothing like he always does. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumble, monotone. You’re fucking exhausted and traumatized. You feel like you’ve been violated. You just want to go to sleep and not wake up. 

“Baby, please, just talk to me. I can fix it.” 

You glare at him. “Fix it? As if you’ve ever taken my concerns seriously. You’d just tell me it’s all in my head and–” You shut yourself up. You don’t want to talk to him about this. It hurts enough when he dismisses your dreams normally. It would fucking kill you if he made light of what you just experienced, even if it was all in your head.  

Surprisingly, in a move totally unlike him, Beomgyu relents. “I take you seriously. You don’t even know.” He says, head bowed sadly. “It’s you who doesn’t.”

What does that even mean? Is he talking about his jealousy over Taehyun? Yes, you admit he may have been right about that but there are many other things he was wrong about. But you don’t have the energy to get into it right now. 

“Take me to bed.”

“Yes, princess.” He sighs, head bowed as he carries you in his arms and takes you to bed, putting you under the sheets and climbing in next to you. 

“I never want to hurt you.” He murmurs, taking you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. You shiver at his choice of words. 

Never wants to hurt you. Not is never going to hurt you. 

__________________________

A/N: lol I was supposed to do this early release on patreon but here is a surprise. as always i really appreciate any feedback. whenever I am going through hard times I keep reverting back to missing yamqn gyu and wishing for him to comfort him despite how objectively terrible he is :'D

once again

[sooniebby]

IMMA SEND ANOTHER REQUEST BC I MISS OUR BOY CHOI💕 OUR FAVORITE PERV

Maybe we get like hit or something during gym class bc we are clumsy as fuck and we get sent to the nurses office and Choi was chosen to take us there and something happens? Can be horny as fuck or just sweet I’ll eat that shit like it’s my dinner either way<3 whatever you prefer Sonnie!

Thank you 😩🫶 for the Ushijima Drabble is was scrumptious 🤤

ఌ 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

(Canon reading order)

Yubin works: 1, 2, 3, 4

Word count › 1.6k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › Yubin is a proud dog hater

Kinks › feminization, fondling, mentions of free use

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

“How’s your head?”

(Name) wasn’t sure how to answer. It didn’t hurt. He was used to getting hit in the head by a dodgeball so he’s been taking them like they’re nothing. No, it wasn’t the slight headache he had that was bothering him.

It was Yubin playing with his chest.

The dumb idiot was just standing there and fiddling with his chest. And it wasn’t even through his shirt.

No, Yubin had to touch (Name)’s skin.

Something about skinship or whatever bullshit he spouted when he pulled up (Name)’s shirt as soon as they got into the nurses office.

Good thing the nurse wasn’t here yet.

She must’ve been a lunch break.

Yubin didn’t even seem to be perverted though. In his weird way, he was comforting (Name) by massaging his chest. And (Name) would be thankful for that if he asked for it.

But it wasn’t like he stopped him.

“My head is fine. The nurse could be coming back any second…” (Name) reached over to grab Yubin’s arm but Yubin swiftly moved it away.

“She shouldn’t be. I saw her talking to Mister Park. She’ll be gone for a minute.”

“Why?”

“Cause she wants to fuck him,” Yubin said nonchalantly, paying way more attention to fondling (Name) than what he was actually saying.

“Your boobs have gotten bigger…”

“It’s my pectorals.”

Yubin looked at (Name) with a blank stare before turning his attention back to (Name)’s chest. “It’s like your boobs don’t fit in my hands…”

(Name) rolled his eyes. No purpose in trying to correct him.

“But really,” Yubin suddenly said, looking at (Name) with a look of worry. “You aren’t hurting, right? Because I can go get the Nurse to come now and treat you.”

(Name) blushed. Despite Yubin still fondling his chest, he really did look slightly worried about his condition. Which was for good reason. Any other person would’ve been knocked out at that the throw that hit him.

Honestly, (Name) should be knocked out. He’s just a bit… well there’s nothing too important in his head to get hurt.

Mentally at least.

“I’m fine…. You, uh, being here with me is nice.” (Name) whispered. Most people wouldn’t want to come with him to the nurse. It was a daily occurrence for him to go to the nurses office that it got annoying for the other students.

A few even believed that he was doing it on purpose for attention.

Yubin squeezed (Name)’s chest tightly, earning a squeak from the boy, as he grinned. “Really?! I’ll come anytime you have to go to the nurse, alright?”

“Hm, thanks… but uh…” (Name) glanced down at Yubin’s hands that were squishing his chest. “Are you going to let go?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Yubin…”

(Name) tried to put on his best puppy dog face but that only got a tug at his nipple. He cursed at how his body trembled at the pull. It was pure luck that he didn’t just moan right then and there.

“Do you really want me to let go?” Yubin asked, staring straight at (Name). He watched his every move—waiting for any sign for discomfort. (Name) simply blushed and looked away in embarrassment.

Yubin laughed. “You’re so cute… I’m so lucky you’re mine.” He pulled his hands away from (Name)’s chest. (Name) wouldn’t lie that he almost whimpered at the lost. Sure, in the moment he wanted it to stop but when he actually did…

“Oh, (Name) Hyung, I have a gift for you.” He reached into his jacket’s pocket and pulled something out. (Name) tilted his head in confusion as Yubin placed the item in his hands.

(Name) stared at the new item in his hands in pure shock.

No fucking way.

Yubin smirked. “It’s a collar. What do you think?”

(Name) looked up. “What the hell, Yubin?! Where did you get this?!”

“Amazon.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry. You’ll only have to wear at my place or around me. Not at school. I just wanted to make sure it fits you.” Yubin said, grabbing the collar.

The choker was a simple black one. But the most outlandish thing on it was the bell on it. It looked like a cat collar. Yubin looked all too eager to put the collar on (Name).

“Have I ever told you cats are my favorite animals? Much better than those stinky dogs.”

“I don’t mind dogs… They’re pretty cute. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who hated them…” (Name) muttered.

“A dog murdered my cat. I think I can hate dogs.” Yubin said, a forced smile on lips. It seemed he still had some issues with that.

Which isn’t too surprising.

“Oh well. My mom killed the dog after it killed Mister Tofu so everything is well. I have Yuna now! She’s going to be one in two weeks!!” He giggled.

(Name) simply hummed. Yubin could certainly be off sometimes.

“Look at me,” Yubin said, grasping (Name)’s chin to turn his head towards him. He smiled at his boyfriend before moving to place the collar around (Name)’s neck.

“How does it feel, baby?”

(Name) hummed, moving his head around as he tried to breathe with the collar. He couldn’t breathe too well. It was visibly painful.

Yubin seemed to notice this as he quickly took it off. He frowned to himself. “I’m so sorry. I must’ve ordered it too small…” he looked so angry at himself as he reached over to gently rub (Name)’s neck.

“It’s fine.. you can just order a bigger size.”

“Really?”

(Name) rolled his eyes. “You were going to do it anyway without my permission.”

“I was. But it’s nice to hear you encourage it.” Yubin threw the collar into the trash. “You should get a reward.”

“Like what?”

Yubin hummed thoughtfully before placing his hand back on (Name)’s chest. He slowly trailed his hand downward. His fingers traced small circles around (Name)’s stomach, earning shuddered breaths, as he stopped at (Name)’s gym shorts.

(Name) looked up at Yubin. Yubin raised an eyebrow, tilting his head.

“We have three minutes before gym class ends…” Yubin tugged at (Name)’s gym shorts. “Think you can cum in three minutes…—”

“—Noona…?”

ꕥ

“Look at you… I can’t get enough of your dick.. it’s so small compared to the rest of you,” Yubin laughs cruelly as he jerked (Name) off.

(Name) mewled in embarrassment as he covered his face. He was laying down on the nurse bed as Yubin jerked him off. Those three minutes didn’t seem to be needed as (Name) felt like he could cum right now.

Yubin was fast, keeping a quick pace with his hand job. He was mainly silent—just watching (Name) the entire time. But it only made (Name) more embarrassed.

To have Yubin just stare at him as he lost control of his body. But it also brought out something in him. It was hot to have Yubin in total control as (Name) let go.

What was this feeling called?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t even think straight.

“Once I get the right size for your collar… I should get you a nice little maid costume.” Yubin whispered into his ear. “I’ll have you clean my room, wearing the skimpiest maid outfit I can find.”

(Name) shook his head. “No…”

“No? Why not? Hate the thought of cleaning? Don’t worry baby…” Yubin pressed a kiss on (Name)’s sweating forehead. “I’ll reward you with my thick cock after your hard work.”

“Matter of fact, I’ll fuck you while you clean. Use you like the true little helper you are… oh, why should you even have clothes? Think about it—it’ll just get dirty.”

“Wha… ngh! Do you… mean?” (Name) gasped out.

“I’ll have you wear the collar with no clothes. The bell jingling with your every move. It’ll be easy access for me to reach your pussy… don’t you think?”

“No…”

“Don’t lie to me, (Name). I know you would want that, my little house wife.”

(Name) blushed at the title and looked away. If only he hadn’t give into it last time. There was no way for him to lie his way out of it. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed the weird play that Yubin was into it.

He wanted it.

He liked being called feminine terms. But he was scared. He didn’t want to be a woman.

Yubin seemed to sense this dilemma as he slowed down his hand job. “What’s wrong, baby? Too much?”

“No… it’s nothing…”

“You can talk to me, I won’t be angry if you didn’t like what I said.”

(Name) looked over at Yubin, face flushed with sweat. “Later.. we can talk later.. lemme cum, please.”

Yubin hummed. “Alright, Hyung.” He leaned down and pulled (Name) into a kiss as he jerked him off into his orgasm. (Name) gripped the bed sheets beneath him as he arched his back in pleasure.

His cock squirted out cum onto his stomach as Yubin continued to jerk him off through his orgasm. He didn’t stop until (Name) whined about being overstimulated.

Yubin moved down to lick the cum off (Name)’s stomach, staring up at him the entire time. (Name) felt his cock twitch at the sight.

Fuck.

He was hard again.

“Yubin… no fair..”

“Too much?” Yubin laughed. “C’mon, gym should be over.”

Just as (Name) pulled up his pants—the door to the infirmary opened. In shock, Yubin dropped to the ground to hide. Good thing the bed was covering him.

The nurse, Nurse Han, looked at (Name) in confusion. She glanced at her phone before shaking her head.

“Again? Really, you need to stop playing sports at this point. I’ll go get an ice pack.” She said, walking away.

Once she was gone, Yubin stood up.

“Why did you hide?”

“I panicked.”

(Name) wasn’t sure how the more dominant Yubin was the same as the boy in front of him right now.

Did he have an alter ego in him or something?

“Anyway, you’re coming to my house tonight, alright?”

(Name) frowned. Shit, he forgot all about the little talk he said he’d do later.

He was so screwed.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Hyung: title for older male friends or brothers from younger boys

Noona: title for older female friends or sisters from younger boys

This request was combined with @jaythes1mp ‘s.. they requested Yubin making reader wear a collar!

This was fun. It was cool to dig deeper into Yubin besides him being a perv. I wanted him to have more character!!! (also sorry dog lovers—he’s a proud hater 😞)

Tag List: @nakedtoasterr @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler

(Ask to be added to the tag list/you’ll be tagged in every fic I post)

[lavandulawrites]

Gimmie yandere sanemi with a plump reader! He loves her so much and he knows he can't do better than her and she's convinced he can do better. She's ok with his yandere tendacies cause it means he wants her.

Bonus if you give her blue eyes and freckles please~~~

Yandere Sanemi with an insecure darling

Yandere Sanemi x reader

My first time writing a plus size reader so I hope I did it some justice. I chose not to include blue eyes and freckles.

Masterlist

Warnings: plus size reader, female reader, imprisonment, insecure reader, soft yandere

Word count: 606

His head leaned against the slide doors that lead to the terrace. The crisp autumn wind ruffled his hair as his lilac eyes raked over your form and a smug smile tugged on his lips. You were sitting comfortably on a chair while you read a book. When he had asked you what it was about you had told him it was a fairytale. You had always been fond of fairytales. You admitted to him quite early on in your relationship that it was an escape. An escape that you very much needed.

After that he had bought you every fairytale book he came across, though he told you to read it for your enjoyment, not as an escape. You had agreed after the Hashira kissed you gently on your cheek. Such uncharacteristic action always threw you of guard which he very much enjoyed.

As you flipped through the pages silently he was lost in thought. He was thankful you excepted his advances, because who knows what he would do if you didn’t. You hadn’t objected when he had whisked you away, which he found weird at first, but he soon shrugged off. He didn’t complain. Your corporation was something he appreciated. It made it easier to protect you.

However, Sanemi had started to sense that something was off. At first he thought you were secretly plotting your escape, but after a while he realised that that wasn’t the case. Then he thought that maybe you had feelings for someone else. Though that would’ve been unlikely since you spent your days inside his estate or in the garden surrounded by high fences.

He rose from the terrace and sat beside you on the chair. “Is anything the matter, love?” he asked with a gentle voice. The pet name felt foreign on his tongue, he never seemed to get used to it no matter how many times it fell from his lips.

Your pretty eyes lifted from the pages and found his. “No? Why are you asking?” you asked with a smile.

Sanemi might have not been the best with feelings nor people in general, but even he could tell that you were lying. “Don’t lie to me” his voice was stern.

Your eyes cast downward to your hands that were clutching the fairytale book. You remained silent for a few seconds before you opened your mouth. “I just think that you can do so much better than me. You shouldn’t force yourself” your voice was meek, but fully audible.

The white haired man blinked for a few seconds in disbelief. “What?”

“I mean it. I don’t want to hold you back” you looked away as you furiously blinked.

Sanemi’s face was twisted in disbelief. He crutched in front of you in the cold hardwood floors as he took your hand. “Don’t ever say that, ever again. You are perfect and I love you so much that it hurts” his voice was loud and laced with anger directed at those who made you think like that. He would find a way to get their names out of your pretty mouth and slash their throats. They would pay for their actions.

“You are perfect, both your appearance and your personality. If I catch you say something like that again, I will make you believe my words whether” you rose and leaned over you. His breath fanned over your face. His intense eyes fixed in yours. His lips locked with yours and his eyes closed. His calloused hands held your plush hands in a tight grip, as if he was afraid that you would disappear if he let go.

[crabonfire]

sick mercs (1/3)

characters: offense class

warnings: none, fluff and crack (I think)

note: I hate making things into parts BUUTTT pyros ALONE ended up being super long, so I'm making them based off of class!! and...its 2 am so I should probably be asleep instead of writing anyway. Parts 2 and 3 will feature the other classes, and will be written tomorrow! Cause its late and I'm tired! okay love u

no but why did I make pyros so long 😭 it was a whole fic wtf

reposts and shares appreciated (u///u)<3

♡Scout♡

•When he's sick he's SUPPPERRR dramatic over it cause when he was a kid his ma was super doting and stuff, and since he was the youngest it made sense. But with you he tries to be all suave and tough, not wanting to admit the fever he has is absolutely killing him, oh the runny nose he has? That's just cause...he...ate something spicy. Not cause of a flu, no...

•He makes an effort to not talk or see the team at all today, and weirdly, he only ever gets sick on ceasefire days. It's like his body isn't used to not doing anything and that gives him a chance to do a bunch of stupid stuff, that, in the end, gets him sick.

•So he's stuck in his room. When you or anyone else knock on his door he pretends he's asleep, and sometimes, he really is. But, when you catch him in the kitchen stealing one of Heavy's sandwiches, he's sniffling, his face slightly red (redder than usual) his expression one like a kicked puppy.

•When you confront him about it, he just acts like he's not sick.

"I'm not sick, okay?"

But when you put your foot down, getting him back to bed and getting the right medicine from the medic, he has this certain look on his face. His cheeks are red, probably because of his fever, but, it might also be caused by you.

The moment your voice turns soft, or stern, depending on how kind you wanna be to his stubbornness, his lips curl into a grin, and immediately he whines and melts, acting like his sickness is the end of the world.

"Ah, my head...ohhhh my head. Hurts so bad. Maybe if ya kiss it...I'll feel better." He says, his voice weak as he closes his eyes, shifting in bed like some sort of damsel in distress.

• He'd be real obedient as you give him medicine and stuff, and stare up at you with bright eyes, as if the little fucker wasn't acting so brave about it before. The moment anyone walks in or sees him being doted, he'll push you away (maybe even physically, in panic) cause he's scared to ruin his reputation.

But when they're gone, he'll apologize and cling to you like a parasite. Muttering and mumbling incoherent things for your attention. He's an ass, but he loves you.

• He'd always tell you how much he appreciates you as you stay by his side, his very dizzy and sick brain making him slur his words, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

"You care about me...haha."

"You're so sweet, you love me, don't you?"

You know how some people get super weird and sorta high when they're super sick? Yeah that's scout with you.

♡Soldier♡

• Like Scout, absolutely DENIES that he's sick.

"SICKNESS AND DISEASE IS MERELY A HOAX! AN EXCUSE CREATED BY COMMUNISTS TO SPREAD THEIR LIES ABOUT AMERICAN- ACHOO-"

• Entire day there's a gigantic frown on his face, he cannot stop sneezing. He sneezed on Scout, and Scout was convinced that he was gonna die.

Engineer is the first to speak up after seeing the soldier violently sneeze without closing his nose. But, his stubbornness gets in the way and he merely brushes him off. Then, half the team begs you to talk to him. So you do.

"Hey Soldier, uh, you...you're looking a little pale."

"PALE? WELL, I GUESS MY SKIN HAS BEEN LOOKING GOOD TODAY!"

You chuckled, "No, pale in a bad way. And I notice you've been sneezing a bunch, are you feeling okay? Did you catch a cold?"

He frowns, and yet again, denies any accusation that he's sick. It doesn't take long, though, when you convince him to stay in his room (or yours, which he'd prefer) so you could "surprise" him. He takes that as an invitation for something else and was a little disappointed when he realized it was a trick to get him to rest.

"Wait...THIS IS A TRAP! YOU'VE TRAPPED ME! HELP-"

He starts to yell as you take his helmet off. You simply laugh, placing it nearby. "Yeah. I trapped you, and now, I order you to stay in bed while I go get some medicine. Am I clear?"

He scoffs at your command. "And what if I DON'T stay?" He remarked, you frowned. "Then you'll be disappointing all the...Americans that spent so much time curating and- crafting the very medication that keeps us healthy."

You made that shit up on the spot, but you knew whenever you spoke to him like a commander did, he'd always listen. He thought about it for a moment and grumbled in reply;

"Fine."

• He does as you ask, staying completely still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, occasionally muttering things to himself as if this very action is the worst thing in the world. When you come back, tray in hand with medicine and a glass of water, his expression softens slightly.

You sit down on the bed, he sits up, and as you hand him the medicine, something warm grows in his chest. He stays silent as he takes the medicine reluctantly, before he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

You smile ask what's wrong but he shakes his head. A big grin appears on his face as he realizes something and he chuckles, but he doesn't tell you what he's thinking about.

"Thanks, cupcake."

• You take care of him, keeping a watch on him for a while as you beg him to get some rest for his cold. He agrees but only if you stay with him, and you do. He holds you tightly as he braves through his cold, head nuzzled in your shoulder as your treated like a Teddy bear.

He felt happy. Someone cared for him, and he didn't know why, but that realization made his heart feel full. Not the type of full he'd usually feel after a hard victory, or the type of full he'd feel after messing around with demoman all day, but a type of full he could feel only with you. He really cared for you, and he was honored you cared for him just as much.

♡Pyro♡

• You could honestly never tell pyro was sick. Sometimes they'd spend days with you as normal, very much sick, but they'd never show it. That's also because they had a strong immune system, and only got sick every couple of years or so.

The one time they've ever gotten sick around you, was during the hottest day in Teufort. Everyone was sweating their asses off, so you could imagine how bad it was for them. Having to be around fire, wearing a heavy, thick, fire retardant suit all day? Oh, it was bad.

They sat at the locker room for longer after battle had ended, seemingly staring off into the distance. Everyone else had left, so did you. But when they didn't come out for an hour or so you checked in on them, visibly worried.

"Pi? You okay?"

You saw them, still sitting in the same bench, looking off into the ground. You walked over to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They jolted, as if awoken from a deep sleep. They turned their head, their breathing was loud in the quiet room, but it was heavy and ragged. You frowned in worry.

"What's wrong?"

• They muffled something even you couldn't understand, their voice was quiet, before they shook their head and got up. They almost stumbled, but you kept their balance. They leaned their head on your shoulder, and you could feel the heavy breaths they exhaled through their mask. You turned to them, placing a hand on their shoulder.

"It's a hot day, huh? Can't be feeling too good especially in that suit of yours."

They mumbled in reply, and you took that as a sign that they must've been real affected by the heat today. "Lets get you to your room, I'll get you a nice cold glass of water, okay?"

• You headed back to their room, allowing them to sit for a bit as you went and got some ice cold water. You sat by, the door locked as they lifted off their mask to take a sip. You could feel the heat they radiated, even from a short distance.

"Pi, I think you might have a fever."

They chugged down the water, before turning to you, lifting their mask back down. They went quiet for a moment before they nodded. You frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?" They shrugged, shaking their head. "Mmh mmhf mmh mmh mmhf mmhf mm mmhf." (I didn't think I was sick at first.)

You sighed, before humming. "I'll go get some medicine, you should probably lie down- maybe take the suit off first. I won't look if it'll make you uncomfortable." You stared at them, waiting for their response. They paused hesitantly, before nodding.

• When you got back, they were in bed, gas mask still on, but now in their tank top and unicorn themed shorts. They didn't show their body often, as they felt insecure of the scars they had. When they saw you, they pulled the blanket up to their chest, which you didn't comment on.

You walked over with a large bottle of water and some medicine, placing it on a nearby table.

"Medic said you just need some rest and a lot of water, so...don't forget to drink."

You didn't quite know what to do with the pyro. They were quiet, which, to you wasn't that unusual. But you could feel the nervousness, and you felt worried, as they didn't seem too good. They murmured a "thank you," staring up at you as you sit by them.

"Do you want me to leave?"

In truth, you didn't want to, and they didn't want you to either. But you didn't want to make them uncomfortable, as the only other times they've showed their body to you were in intimate situations. You didn't want to overwhelm them, but you wanted to take care of them. They shook their head, before mumbling;

"Mm mmhn mmhf mm mmhh mmhf mm mmhn mmhnf mmh." (You don't have to stay if you don't want to.)

"I'll stay for a bit. You need your rest and.. I wanna make sure you're okay."

That sentence could make them melt if the heat wasn't already doing that to them. They let out a hoarse giggle. You always made them swoon, even if the things you said weren't overly romantic. It always meant a lot to them, as they never really had someone who cared.

That noise always made you smile, as you stared down at them. It was silent for a while as you two looked at each other. Even under the mask you could tell they had a smile. You've only ever seen that smile once, and the thought of it makes your heart race. You soon broke the silence, slowly getting up.

"Drink your meds and get some sleep, okay?

• As you left, they couldn't help but smile. They got up to lock the door, before taking off their mask and flopping into bed. Not forgetting to do as you said, they fall fast asleep with you on their mind.

Even in their dreams your their, and even with this small, common gesture of caring for them, they cant help but feel a bit weak in the knees when they think of you. They thought the engineer was sweet, but you? They should call you sugar.

It was the first time they had someone worry so much, the way you frowned at them made their chest tighten, and weirdly, in a reaffirming way. In a way that made them realize they weren't so bad, and they were capable of being cared for.

Maybe they were getting too into it, but they didn't care.

♡♡♡♡

I did not expect pyros to be long. Like I was writing and suddenly as I was looking back I realized how much I was yapping. Shit. Anyway, defense and support classes will be written by tomorrow, probably the one or both. Yay!

[jjkpilled]

“Do you know how pretty you are?”

WARNINGS: mentions of disordered eating, body image issues :3 enjoy!

As I stood silently infront of my mirror observing my figure, he walked in. He didnt say anything, im sure he didnt even see me. I continued silently flexing my stomach to make it look flatter, and sucking in my jaw to make the line sharper.

“Thats whats wrong with people these days.” he broke the silence, causing me to jump slightly.

“hm?” Satoru walked towards me and stopped just behind me, him being around a foot taller than me, he could see me in the mirror.

“They-… tend to make such beautiful girls think theyre any less than they are. With all these-… standards.” I stayed quiet, until i felt his lengthy fingers snake around my waist, pulling me backwards into him.

“Do you know how pretty you are, princess..?” Honestly right now I felt like anything but a princess… I continued my silence as his hands trailed up and down my sides, his distinct chuckle making my heart race.

“Well..? do you…?” He repeated, i didnt really know the answer to that. Because, sometimes i felt pretty. But.. sometimes i wanted to crawl into a hole and never be seen again.

I wasnt sure how to respond so I just shrugged. He sighed and walked away, was he upset with me…? My attachment issues wanted me to fall to my knees, crying and begging for his forgiveness, but the logical side of things told me to just shake it off.

Maybe he wasnt sure how to help.

“Have you had lunch?” He echoed through the house, getting louder as he re-approached my room.

“Mhm.” I hadnt, but I know he’d yell at me if he caught me skipping meals again.

“Dont lie, princess. That’s not cute.” damnit. He always knew when I was lying.. it was weird.

“Im not.” I sighed, turning around to face him. He had his dark, round sunglasses propped up on his head. He looked at me through those piercing blue eyes and quietly made his way towards me, cupping my face in his hands.

“Why?” he asked, to which I cocked my head sideways at him in confusion.

“Why do you do this to yourself…? Who made you think like this..?” He said quietly, his hands running through my hair. When I didnt answer his question he grabbed my face and slightly squeezed.

“Why are you so quiet today?”

“I-I dont know…” I, pathetically, answered. He sighed and unexpectedly hugged me, tight. I hugged him back and he… started sniffling…? Was the Satoru Gojo crying on me?

“Youre so.. beautiful.. and you dont see it… Yet you-… You hurt yourself a-and.. you just- youre gonna kill yourself some day doing that! A-And, it seems like you dont even care!” He cried, he didnt cry.. he just- wasnt a person who did that… yet, he was quite literally sobbing on me.

“Are you starving yourself?” his question was met with silence, he let go of me and took a step back.

“Answer me, damnit! I need to know! Are you fucking starving yourself, again?!” I felt tears welling up, i shook my head quietly.

“Stop lying to me!” He yelled, he didnt yell, ever. At least not at me. But.. he seemed really upset.

I whimpered quietly as he tightly gripped my shoulders, enough to send a painful jolt down my spine.

“You are going to stop with this nonsense! Do you hear me?! Do you fucking hear me, y/n?!” I nodded while tears started to trickle. Seeing this made his anger immediately subside. He hugged me tightly.

“Do you… know… how pretty you are…?”

[moonshynecybin]

the way Marc’s diplopia issues in MotoGP could translate so well into concussions episodes in a hockey AU (just like Sid…)

the head injury of it allllll.... its crazy because motogp injury is USUALLY (not always) caused by incidental contact or a personal fuck up. "racing is a contact sport rubbing is racing" okayyyyy but not like hockey lol. in motogp you USUALLY arent making contact on purpose (no one crashes for fun) and when you DO make contact it is almost ALWAYS on the limit. while often hockey injury (ESPECIALLY HEAD INJURY) is caused by a hit. could be a dirty hit could be a clean one, but usually its cuz a guy decided to hit you very hard with his body personally. theres a lot more.... agency in the injury? which feels bad bc not everyone is running around concussing people but i think its fair to say theres more interpersonal violence with INTENT to be violent even if its like. a fairly innocent shove on the forecheck. touching people on purpose. cause and effect. you are injured because of someone. thats comparatively rare in motogp

all this to say. known injury weirdo vale (and i hesitate to mention this but part of the reason he is that way is BECUASE he was involved in a tragic accident that injured another person). in a contact sport. vs marc. famously most injured man alive including in his head. in another sport that LOVES to ignore concussions. add famous rivalry. add playoff hockey hit lenience. and i can see marc (head already fragile/diplopia'd up when he was in juniors) falling weird when vale is trying to muscle him in the corners and getting his noggin absolutely scrambled. and now we have to deal with vale as CAUSER of marc injury. where he's out for months. in a dark room. doing his eye exercises and cuddling shira and MAYBE it was during the playoffs so alex had to convince marc not to try and get on the fucking ice and vale is in the same city all the time feeling like his heart is getting pulled out through his SPINE because its one guy to convince yourself a rival is evil it is ANOTHERRRR for injury weirdo to actually and for real hurt someone he loves. like if you look at them in motogp thats not vale's bag at all during the marc years. even with him being a criminal against sete in 2006 he never pulls that shit out post sepang 2011. and i think if he managed to actually INJURE marc. well i think he might feel so bad he shows the fuck up at this door

so its. hushed tense voices in the hall (alex and vale). vale climbing into bed with him in the dark. holding ice over his forehead. playing cards to keep him occupied and off his phone. reminding him to do his eye exercises. taking him to appointments contacting the diplopia specialist... and marc is brain foggy and confused and needs comfort and just WANTS IT so badly that he doesnt question it too much... lets himself take a little... and vale is there... like truly vale LOVES to take care of people, acts of service is his love language, and he is. FANTASTICALLY guilty. so hes trying to fix it anyway he can. but then the playoff series passes. and marc gets a little bit better. and there isnt a REASON for him to be there. and marc might be edging on asking him wtf hes doing there in the first place. and one day marc rolls over and vale is GONE.... because hes like okay. well marc is better now so i should go WALLOW in my GUILT. which of course to vale looks like pretending it never effected him at all while being secretly very kind about the whole thing. because he SUCKS !