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nonexistent-introvert · 11 months

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Alternate Reminder

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Miguel has trouble trying to treat you fairly when you remind him too much of what he had lost. Angst, misunderstanding.

A/N: I havent truly proofread this so I'm sorry. This took super long.

Part 2

Miguel thought you were special. He thought it was maybe the universe giving him a second chance when he saw you. His first love and his beautiful wife, standing in front of him while wearing a Spiderman suit. Maybe, he was destined to be with you, after all, a universe where you could understand him. A universe where he could finally be happy with you and Gabriella, a universe that he actually belonged to and he didn’t have to worry about destroying a whole universe just to be with you.

The only problem? This version of you had zero ideas of who Miguel O’Hara is. Miguel thought it was a canon event, for the both of you to fall in love. In most universes he had been to, you were with Miguel. In most, you were happy and had a family with him. In the more unfortunate universes, things didn’t work out between the two of you. The only thing that was unchanged was that Miguel and you were bound to find and fall in love with each other at one point.

However, Miguel hated your guts. His amor was sweet, responsible, and well-organized. You were the complete opposite of that. You were rude, irresponsible, and very messy as a person. He dared say that you were the messiest person he had ever met. There was no sign of organisation at your workstation. Papers were messily stacked on top of each other or swept across the desk. The mini shelf you had beside your desk was filled with books that were all falling to one side, some had completely collapsed. More files were squeezed on top of the books. Miguel’s greatest pet peeve was seeing the bent and folded pages being shoved into a file. The urge to help you reorganize was almost too big for him to handle causing the frustration to build up and was let out onto you instead. Miguel groaned as he met eye contact with you while he was buying his morning coffee. It was almost insulting to him how you had the same exact face as her, the woman he falls for in every universe.

On the opposite side of the same coin, you loathed Miguel O’Hara. He was bossy, pompous, and couldn’t take a single joke. Any conversation you have had with him ended up in the both of you arguing. Sarcasm was something everyone around you had gotten used to, except for Miguel of course who never seemed to catch on. He would simply give you a judgemental stare before giving a literal answer which you would roll your eyes at. At that point, Miguel would think that you’re being rude, and depending on his mood that day, he would either scold you or scoff at you.

“Just get over it, you’re always mad at Miguel anyways. I thought you would get used to it by now.” Gwen sighed, giving you the same response every time you ranted about Miguel. “It’s not like you don’t know the big guy,” Hobie said nonchalantly, having long gotten used to your rants about Miguel. “You hate him, we get it.” Pavitr groaned, complaining for the umpteenth time about how you always seemed to be talking about Miguel. Gwen chuckled, “If you didn’t point out every single flaw of his so heartlessly every time you rant about him, I would think you have a crush on Miguel or something.” Gwen said. “Hell no. I’m not fucking blind.” you defended, offended she would even think this way. “You gotta admit, big boss is quite the looker, too bad he’s a prick.” Hobie pointed out. “Speak of the devil,” Pavitr warned, straightening up as he stared at Miguel who was walking to your table’s direction.

You merely glared in his direction. Gwen was right, you should be used to him by now. He shouldn’t be getting under your skin so easily. So why can’t you just ignore him? Why does your mind always drift to him when you’re alone, why do you realise when he was due for a haircut? How his hair curls at the end when he lets his hair grow, how he reaches 10 minutes early to any appointment, and how he would get his coffee at exactly 9am in the morning. You shook your head, riding yourself off those thoughts. There was no way you actually had some sort of attraction to him right? Your mind drifted to the fight you had with him 5 days ago, his words still causing a dull ache in your heart. The both of you always fought but you were sure Miguel was going to kick you off the team until he called your friends the next day and gave you a mission through them while also completely disregarding your presence if he saw you around after.

===================

“Mind your own business!” Miguel exclaimed, you flinched at his harsh tone. “I was just-” “Who said you could touch my property?” Anger was practically the only emotion in his voice as he pushed you to the side. “Lyla told me you were having some troubles, that your screens had some kind of issue-” You gritted out, closing your eyes to calm yourself too. You only had good intentions to fix the issues he was fixing and now you were being accused of invading his privacy. You couldn't even remember any of the files that appeared on the screen while you were fixing his terrible code. Too focused on solving the technical errors to be poking your nose into his business. “I don’t need your help,” He seethed. “She was going to help you, Miguel. You have been complaining about it and even I can’t help you, you very well know she’s the only one equipped with the knowledge to fix this.” Lyla defended you. The fury in Miguel’s eyes scared you as well, “You need to mind your own business as well.” He snarled to Lyla before turning to you, switching off the orange screens completely. “I would rather let everything burn to hell than trust you to fix anything. You’re a fucking mess if you didn’t realize. ” Miguel spat.

It was your last straw. You had more self-respect than let anyone speak to you like that. “Kick me off, fucking kick me off already. You hate me anyways, right? So why do you bother keeping me around?”

“Get out!” Miguel bellowed and you didn’t need him to repeat himself. You took off the watch on your wrist and threw it to the floor, letting it break into pieces. In that moment, his words hurt you more than glitching ever would.

============

Peter found you at a bar in your universe that day. You downed another glass of whiskey at the sight of Peter, you were in too bad of a mood to talk to anyone now and you know you would regret it if you lashed out at him.

Peter didn’t say anything, simply sitting beside you and staring as you downed one glass after another.

Peter ordered a drink, taking sips of his drink as he decided on the best approach to talk to you. Your anger was practically radiating off you, making everyone else stir clear of you.

“He’s all bark no bite.” Peter started. You scoffed lightly, letting the silence fall between the both of you. You turned to peter, feeling bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “You heard already huh.” Peter simply shrugged, “Word travels fast. Practically the whole society knows.” You downed another glass at that, you wondered how much the story had changed as it was passed from one person to another. It was probably a field day at headquarters.

“There is barely anyone at headquarters, Miguel has been bringing hell to anyone he even makes eye contact with,” Peter answered as though he could read your thoughts. You had to bite back your words, to tell Peter that you really couldn’t care less about Miguel now nor did you need the company. Silence fell between the both of you, Peter lightly bobs his head to the music that was playing in the bar to relieve the tension that was building up. He was never one for tense situations. “You know, you’re not really that different from Miguel.” Peter immediately put his hands up in defense when you practically growled at his comment. “Well, it’s just that both of you would rather die than talk about your emotions. Thankfully, I managed to crack Miguel so I think I can do it for you too.” Peter confidently stated. You remained silent, swirling the whiskey in your hand. You didn’t trust yourself to not lash out at Peter, especially when he’s practically comparing you to Miguel. The man you hated in all of the multiverse

“Hm, silence. Miguel screamed at me when we reached this point.” Peter observed, laughing nervously at the memory of his talk with Miguel. “I guess I’ll just go on first then.” Peter wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sure Miguel didn’t mean anything. You just hit a sore spot.” You scoffed again, “What? By trying to fix his stupid system?”

Peter took another swig, he definitely needed the alcohol. “Do you not know about what is on those screens? One that probably popped up while you were fixing it.” “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t snooping on him. I was focused on the system itself.” You defended. Peter cringed ever so slightly at your response. “There is this girl on the screen, the one with a happier, better-looking Miguel.” Peter took another swig, this really wasn’t his story to tell. You pursed your lips, you did remember seeing the footage that Peter mentioned. You had to force yourself to look away, that you were invading his privacy.

“That’s his daughter.” Peter finished, trying to gauge your reaction. You simply preserved a blank look and Peter groaned slightly, he detested how stubborn you were. “Miguel found a universe where he had a family and was happy, but him in that universe had an accident so he replaced himself. Some butterfly effect happened and the whole universe collapsed on itself and he lost everything.” Peter explained. You finished your drink, everyone has lost someone. You understood why it was a sore spot but it doesn’t justify being a total asshole.

“Miguel didn’t mean anything he said to you. It was just- tough.” Peter finished. “I didn’t even do shit Peter, just decided to fix his system and he accused me of invading his fucking privacy. It’s not like he’s the only one who lost someone. We all did.” Peter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “He just fucking hates my guts and I don’t know why? He literally told most people about my past when he explains about anomalies so why is he so mad when I know about it?”

“Because you have the same name and face as his wife, the woman who he falls for in every universe.” Your jaw dropped at the information. You couldn’t ever fathom the thought of you and Miguel even being in love. The anger in you simmered ever so slightly. It would explain how his features softened when he sees you sometimes, the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stares at you for too long. A stranger with memories, that is what you are to Miguel. Miguel tries his best to treat you like others. It was exceptionally tough when you shared the same name and face as the woman he had spent his happiest moments with. “He never told me,” you told Peter. Peter shook his head, “No one was allowed to tell you. Not like many people knew anyways. He didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble. You know how he is, he doesn’t like it when people try to share his burdens.” You pursed your lips, cursing out your alcohol tolerance. It was times like this you wished you could just forget everything. “It doesn’t matter. Miguel probably wants me out of his life.” Peter threw his hands up frustratedly. “If he wants you out he wouldn’t send me here to tell you about everything.” Peter admitted. Peter was worried when he heard the news of you and Miguel having a fight which is what brought him to talk to Miguel. Peter wouldn’t be able to find you by himself, only Miguel could. You closed your eyes, you had enough of everyone. You were so exhausted, everything has been so draining.

“Just leave me alone alright?” You said, stumbling out of your seat slightly before leaving the bar and Peter behind.

======================================

“The anomaly was caught. We ensured there were no loose ends. Everything should be fine.” You reported to Miguel. Your hands were behind your back, there was a blank look on your face. Miguel bit his lip slightly at your cold demeanor toward him. He used to complain about you taking things too lightly. When you would stroll into his office with a grin, confidently telling him all the details of the mission even if it was insignificant. Now, you told him the bare minimum with a professional tone and stand.

Miguel used to complain and bluntly tell you that he didn't care for some of the details you told him after. Details like you and Gwen dropped by a Mcdonald's to grab some fries or that you also managed to finish a recent show. Now he wishes you would tell him, instead of you acting like this., all quiet and serious. Miguel took a deep breath, staring at you as the platform descended. He looked away slightly, knowing things were still tense between the two of you. “Sorry about that the other day. I was not in the right place.” He apologised, forcing himself to meet your eye. Your expression was still blank, “It’s fine.” You brushed it off like you hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. “If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave now.” You told him, bowing slightly as you turned. Miguel flinched at the tone. “Wait.” He wanted to stop you from leaving. Then his head turned to the orange screens behind him that glitched every so often. “Would you-” Miguel hesitated, thinking if this was the best move.”

“I- can you help me fix the screens?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I promise I won’t lash out at you.” Miguel weakly joked. You simply nodded, stepping up onto his platform. Miguel stared at you, you were so unlike yourself. There were no teasing comments, no laughter, not even a hint of a smile. You stood in front of his screens, diligently and skillfully opening and typing away a new code. Miguel shifted and fidgeted behind you, he was wrecking his mind for a conversation topic. You were the one who usually initiated or continued the conversations. His mind replaying all the conversations he had with you. A smile tugged on his lips, music was your common ground with him. He remembered how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your favorite songs.

“I recently got into classical music.” Miguel shared. Miguel was half-convinced that he wouldn’t get a reply when you let his words hang in the air while you focused on the task at hand. “Oh? Mahler?’ You finally replied. His eyes widened. “How did you know?” He was greeted with silence again and only then did he appreciate how quick your responses used to be. “I just want to know, because you seemed really confident about it. Did I tell you?” Miguel filled the silence himself. “I just saw it.” You gestured to the screens. He nodded, letting the tense silence take over again. You were never so quiet, he never had to deal with this uncomfortable silence when he was with you.

“You changed.” Miguel blurted out. There was no response from you as you continued working on the screens. You didn’t know how to respond either. The news about you being an alternate version of his wife, it was rather overwhelming. You used to spite him and annoy him just for the fun of it, but after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore. His gaze made you self-conscious now, of what he thought of you, and nor did you want a repeat of what happened that day. You did a lot of thinking the past few days and you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate Miguel O’Hara. You couldn’t hate him. The thought of him hating you, it was terrifying.

“What?” You muttered, Miguel barely caught onto your response. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down. “Look, I’m really sorry for that day and I know I can’t take back anything but I really hope you don’t distance yourself from me because of that.” Miguel swallowed, it was publicly known that the both of you never seemed to get along but the thought of you becoming cold to him made him shiver to his core. “You’re overthinking things.” You stated plainly, forcing out a laugh. Miguel sighed, “You just seem, very different. Let’s not even talk about our interactions. You have just been more distant with everyone, you’re taking things way too seriously and well, you’re a lot more well organised now. The biggest shame was losing the constant smile, boosted many of their morale even in the most difficult of times.” you swallowed bitterly, debating internally if you should snap at Miguel right now while you stared at the screens before you. “I had to work on not being a mess right?” You answered, quoting his exact words. Miguel’s eyes flashed with a hint of pain and you knew it was a low blow. He had already apologised, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. But those words haunted you even till now.

“You really changed huh?” Miguel continued. He didn’t expect you to use his words against him. When you know that he regrets it, it was a low move even for you. “It’s done.” You announced, ignoring his comment towards you. Your patience was thinning again. He merely glanced towards the screens before looking at you again. “You’re not the person I knew,” Miguel stated plainly. You turned your head to him.

“I’m not the woman you had in mind, Miguel! I’m not your fucking wife and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You looked away, running your hands through your hair in distress. “I never was. I’m sorry I remind you of her but I’m not her.” You snapped at him. Walking out of his office. Everything made sense now. Miguel would be annoyed and frustrated with you most times, but there were times that he acted differently towards you. The times when he had carried you to a more comfortable place when you had fallen asleep on your table, the jackets that he had given to you to keep you warm still hung in your closet. The late-night conversations where he was more vulnerable towards you and had conversations with you about your interests while you hung from the ceiling, claiming that it helped you stay awake while you sift through the paperwork with him. You found it weird how he could hate your guts one second but be even sweet to you when it was just the two of you. At one point, you even thought you had fallen for Miguel O’Hara.

You shook your head, ignoring Miguel behind you as you rid the thought of even entertaining a possibility with Miguel. He never treated you as you are, he never liked you for who you are.

You simply shared a face and name with the woman he was destined to fall for.

You chuckle at how foolish you were while you stepped on the watch that Peter had given to you as replacement for your old one.

“I fucking quit.” You announced to a surveillance camera in the hallway, knowing fully well that he is monitoring the camera for your whereabouts now.

Miguel angrily swept the files off his table, growling out in frustration. He buried his face in his hands, he never saw you as the woman who he had fallen for and had Gabriella with. Sure, there were a few times your identical looks made his heart pace with what could have been. However, Miguel had started spending more time with you and getting to know you as a person. In those times, he reckoned he enjoyed it too much.

There was no way he was falling for you right?

Was there a point even if he did? You had already left him.

Miguel O'Hara always messes up his own happiness. That seems more like his canon event than falling in love with you.

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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kaleldobrev · 8 months

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I Want Them To Hear

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ben wants to make sure Hughie knows what it actually sounds like when the two of you have sex. In other words, Ben makes damn sure Hughie gets yet another night of no sleep because of the two of you.

Original Prompt: Requested by @k-slla | I loved your last post (poor, poor Hughie 😂). I would love to read a sequel, where SB& reader DO keep everyone up, for other reasons 😏 (if you're up to it 😊) x Kerly

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Cursing (23x), Smut (Oral - M&F receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex - P in V), Implied p*rn watching, Hughie getting scarred for life (again), Semi-Public sex (living room)

Authors Note: Before you read this make sure you read A Simple Misunderstanding first | I think 23 curse words is a new record for curse words for me (21 out of them are the same too) | I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy it! | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You looked over at the clock that was above the fireplace in the living room, and it was almost midnight, and you weren’t the least bit surprised that you weren’t even tired. Although you didn’t have a good sleep schedule before you joined the Boys (as you were a full-time college student when you joined the group), your sleep schedule somehow became even more jacked when you joined; something you didn’t think was even remotely possible. You had found yourself going to sleep at three, four, sometimes five in the morning, or not even going to sleep at all – a constant flow of energy drinks and coffee to keep you going.

The last couple of days though were unusually uneventful, verging on normal, like there wasn’t some kind of revenge war going on. The closest thing that had been kind of eventful was Hughie’s outburst this morning over breakfast, accusing you and Ben of having sex which kept him up – something that actually didn’t happen between you and Ben even though it was something that you did want to happen last night. Due to his little outburst though, the rest of the day was filled with a consistent flow of jokes (mainly at your best friend’s expense) that seemed to put everyone in a great mood (except Hughie of course). In a way, you did feel bad for him, but at the same time, his outburst this morning was unnecessary.

Your legs were currently in Ben’s lap, one of his arms draped over them as his other hand was lying on the arm of the couch with a remote in hand; the only source of light in the room coming from the television. As Ben flipped through channel after channel, you couldn’t help but stare at him as the shadows on his face changed with every single flip trying to find something to watch. “How is there so many channels and nothing to watch?” He asked, not even looking at you.

You shrugged your shoulders and he turned to face you. “I found plenty of things I’d watch. It’s not my fault you’re picky.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not picky. TV just sucks now.” He began, and you already knew where this conversation was going. It was about to turn into a ‘back in my day’ rant that you had heard practically every single day since you had met him. “Back in my day, TV was actually good.” Before you could interject he continued. “We didn’t have stupid reality shows about people who are famous for nothing.” You couldn’t help but agree with him on that one. “There’s 400 channels and only two of them are watchable.”

“And which channels does the almighty Soldier Boy deem watchable?” You asked, emphasizing the nickname.

“ESPN and TCM.” He answered without hesitation. You simply just rolled your eyes.

“Of course those would be the only two channels.” You mumbled, even though you knew he could hear you; there was no use in mumbling around him. “I love ESPN and TCM too, but there are other channels that are watchable Ben. How about FoodNetwork and HGTV?”

Ben scoffed. “Sometimes they’re watchable.”

“Okay. How about…” You thought for a moment, trying to think of a channel that Ben would possibly enjoy; then it hit you, causing a smirk to form on your face. “How about Skinamax?”

He looked at you with a confused expression. “What the fuck is Skinamax?” You let out a slight laugh, causing him to raise a brow. “What?”

“You don’t know what Skinamax is?” You asked. “Honestly, I’m slightly surprised.” You held out your hand. “Hand me the remote and I’ll show you.”

“Why can’t you just fucking tell me?” He asked, his facial expression annoyed.

“Because Ben, it’d be more fun to show you.” Your lips turned into a smirk. “Don’t you trust me?”

Again, your response earned yet another eyeroll from him. Of course I fucking trust you, he thought. What kind of stupid question is that? “Fine.” He said, handing you the remote.

“Okay, and why couldn’t you of just told me it was just fucking porn?” He asked, his tone sounding a little annoyed with you.

“Because, I thought it would be much more fun to show you.” You turned away from the television and looked at him. “You’ve watched porn before though right? Like, I’m assuming you have cause well…you’re…well you.”

He looked at you briefly before looking back at the screen again. “Have you watched porn before?” He mumbled, mocking your tone. “Of course I fucking have.” He said, a tad louder and a bit more annoyed sounding. He turned back to face you. “Who hasn’t watched porn before?”

You shrugged. “Fair point.” You said. “You know…” you began, as you started inching your way closer to him. “As much as I’d love to continue watching this…interesting movie. There is something I’d much rather be doing.”

He smirked, his full attention on you now. “And what’s that Sweetheart?”

“Well, you did make me a promise this morning.” Your voice was low, your hand inching closer to the hem of his pants.

“I made you a lot of promises this morning.” His voice was low, but not nearly as low as yours.

“But there was one in particular.” Your fingers started slipping into the waistband of his pants as you maintained complete eye contact with him.

“You going to tell me or is it more fun to show me?” He asked, your hand made contact with his cock and you gently wrapped your hand around him. Ben slightly groaned at the contact.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “I think you know the answer.” You whispered.

Without a second to waste, he pulled his sweats down giving you slightly better access as you started moving your hand up and down. You went slow, knowing that it was killing him inside with the pace that you were going at. As he was about to open up his mouth to protest the slow pace, your head went down and you started sucking him off; a slight taste of pre-cum on your tongue. Your hand and mouth started going in tandem with each other; no longer focused on his face, but focusing on what you were doing. “Fuck,” he groaned, and he threw his head back into the couch, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and hands wrapped around him, a feeling that he’d wanted since the moment he laid his eyes on you – despite him knowing how much you hated him at first.

You released him with a pop for a moment; your hand still going. But the loss of your mouth on him caused him to open his eye to look at you. “Ben, you need to be quiet. I don’t want the whole house to hear.” You stated.

Your words gave Ben an idea, and a smirk grew on his face. “Princess, I want them to hear.”

“You…you want them to hear?” Your voice a whisper. “Why?”

“Cause I want your little friend to know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck.” His words made you audibly gulp, and you barely even knew how to respond. Weirdly, the thought turned you on.

“Okay.” Your reply hesitant. Despite the slight hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his cock again; your mouth and hand working in tandem again.

As you worked, the sounds that were coming out of Ben’s mouth weren’t remotely quiet; a mixture of groaning and moaning. His hand gripped your hair slightly, pulling at it gently, messing it up. Between him basically playing with your hair as you blew him, and the sounds that he was making; it encouraged you to pick up the pace a little, and you yourself felt yourself starting to get increasingly more wet. “God, your fucking mouth.” He groaned. He bucked up a little, and when he did that he let himself go; releasing himself into your mouth and down your throat. You usually weren’t a swallower but for him, you made the exception.

Once you helped him ride out his orgasm, you released him with a pop; the two of you making eye contact again. “Lay down Princess,” he demanded, “and spread those legs of yours,” he grinned.

“Yes Sir.” You said, probably a little bit too loud.

The nickname you gave him just made him grin even wider, slightly more evil looking. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy of yours.” He said, completely pulling your shorts down in one swift movement. He eyed your bare pussy for a moment before smirking up at you, cocking a brow. “Went commando today uh?” You bit your bottom lip, nodding. “Sweetheart, if I would have known, I would have fucked you on the kitchen table this morning just to prove a point.”

“Be-” before you could speak, his point finger started to slowly dip inside of you. “Fuck.” You moaned, slightly whispering.

“You’re fucking soaked Princess.” He said, smugness in his voice. “All this just from blowing me uh?” He added a second finger as they both started going into you a bit deeper, a slight curve to them.

“Y-yes.” You moaned out; his two fingers starting to move slowly in and out of you, a similar pace you had done earlier on him.

“So, tell me this Sweetheart. Are you generally just a cock slut, or are you just a slut for my cock?”

The pace of his fingers started to pick up gingerly; no words were forming in your brain to even respond to his question. He was barely doing anything to you, and you were slightly embarrassed by the way your body was reacting to his touch, but at the same time, he actually knew what he was doing – hitting you in all the right spots. “Just…Fuck…Just for yours.”

“Just for mine what?” He added a third finger, curling them inside of you. All you could do was moan; verging on the sound of pornographic. “Need you to use your words Princess. I know how much you like to talk, don’t hold back on me now.”

“Fuck me…” you mumbled, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks. “I’m only a slut for your cock Ben.”

He clicked his tongue a few times, seeming unsatisfied with your answer. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite hear you.” The smugness in his voice returned, knowing that he could hear you. You knew what he really meant: your friends couldn’t hear you.

With a small groan, you spoke just a tad louder, hoping it would be loud enough to satisfy him. “I’m only a slut for you cock Ben.”

He grinned. “There it is.” He sounded so proud of himself.

“Ben I’m about to –” you came, not even finishing your sentence, your orgasm practically exploding out of you. Despite the amount of times you’ve had sex, this was the first time you could actually say that you had a mind-blowing orgasm. He continued to move his fingers in and out of you rapidly as you rid out your orgasm.

“Fucking beautiful,” he praised. “I’ll never get fucking tired of seeing a woman cum.”

As soon as you came down from your high, he removed his fingers from you, licking them clean; and you already hated the feeling of not having his fingers inside of you. “Fuck.” You breathed out, your chest rising up and down as you tried catching your breath.

Ben chuckled. “You good there Sweetheart?” He sounded amused.

“Yeah…So…Good…” your voice trailed off.

“Good, cause I’m not done with you just yet.” Before you had the chance to respond, he pulled you by your ankles, sliding you across the couch. Pulling you into his lap, both of your hands rested on his chest, slight heat radiating from it, which strangely felt good against your palms.

Your legs were spread open wide enough that you were able to straddle him; your knees on either side of his thighs resting on the couch. Without any kind of direction from him, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you completely naked; you felt even more vulnerable somehow than you did before. You leaned in, your hands on either side of his face now and kissed him; his hands automatically gripping your hips. Based on the tightness of the grip you knew you’d have bruises, and honestly – you couldn’t care less, you wanted him to leave marks.

The both of you moaned into the kiss, and you started rocking your hips gently, trying to obtain some kind of friction. He smirked against your lips. “Someone’s a little needy.” He teased. “You just came Sweetheart.”

“Yeah but…” You kissed his neck, and leaned in close to his ear, “that was on your fingers, not on your cock.”

“And you say I have the dirty mouth.” He laughed a little, removing his hands from your hips. You sat back on his thighs as he took one of his hands and wrapped it around himself, pumping it in his hand a few times. “Going to fill that pussy right up.”

“Please.” Your tone slightly begging.

“So cute when you beg.” He said, his tip teasing your entrance. “You ready for me Sweetheart?” You nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders, almost as if you were bracing yourself. As he started pushing himself inside of you, you let out a long moan, shutting your eyes. “Fucking love your moans.” He complicated, as he watched your face slightly contort. “Taking me so well too.” He chuckled. “Really are a cock slut uh?”

“Only for you.” You breathed, his cock almost fully inside of you.

“Damn right only for me.” His voice sounded slightly possessive; and the tone turned you on more than you thought it would, and he felt you clench around him. “You like that uh?” You nodded in response. “Good.”

As you started moving your hips, Ben started placing kisses between your breasts, every so often taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The noises you were making were pornographic sounding again; no words really escaping your lips, just moans. Your hand gripped the back of his head, clutching at his hair. “Ben,” you moaned, shutting your eyes as you continued to rock your hips.

He attached his lips to your neck now, slightly nipping and sucking on the skin. Not only were there going to be marks on your hips, there were going to be marks on your neck now too. “Mine,” you heard him mumble; but you weren’t entirely sure if you heard him properly.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, and he removed his lips from your neck. “You heard me,” his voice possessive again. “You’re mine now.” He said. You weren’t sure if this was bedroom talk or he actually did mean that you were his, and his alone. Either way, you loved the sound of being his – despite the slight alpha/misogynistic undertone to it.

“All yours.” You agreed. He took two of his fingers and started rubbing your clit, trying to get you closer and closer to the edge. You felt the pressure start to build, and you were insanely close to coming again. “I’m so close.”

“Can’t wait to cum inside of you Princess.” His fingers started picking up the pace, and his hip movements were starting to get erratic – he was close too.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, your own movements matching his erratic ones. “I’m about to –” as you started to cum, his lips latched onto yours, and you moaned into his mouth.

“I’m right there with you.” He said, coming closely after you. The kiss deepened as the two of you rid out your orgasms; his fingers working lazily on your clit.

“Holy shit.” You said, essentially collapsing onto him. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as your chests were pressed up against each other; his arms wrapped around your lower back, his clock still buried inside of you.

“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah just…” you started breathing a little heavy again. “Don’t have your stamina.” You laughed a little. “I’ll be okay.”

“Good. Cause I can’t have you dyin’ on me.” His tone was joking, but you knew that he would be devastated if anything were to ever happen to you. Because over the course of time he had known you, he had grown to deeply care about you; and it was something that surprised the both of you – hell, it even surprised the rest of the group.

"What the fuck!" You and Ben both turned and saw Hughie standing in the doorway of the living room; his facial expression looked as though he was about to blow a gasket.

Ben rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "Do you mind?" You gently lifted yourself off of him, grabbing a nearby blanket and quickly covered yourself and Ben, although the damage was probably already done.

"Yes! Matter of fact I do mind! This is the second night in a row that I woke up because of the two of you!" He yelled; and you could of sworn you saw a vain bulging from his neck. He was pissed.

Ben laughed, amused by Hughie's reaction. "Now you know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck. Should of kept your mouth shut this morning kid." He grinned, and gave him a wink.

"Seriously? You guys were loud because of what I said this morning?" Hughie's voice was now annoyed. Ben simply just shrugged at his question. "You are such an asshole."

Ben shrugged again. "Worse has been said."

“Hughie I –” you began, but Ben cut you off.

"But, I can promise you this," he got up from the couch, pulling up his pants in the process as he made his way toward Hughie. He placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him directly in the eyes, grinning. "You better get used to not fucking sleeping cause your friend has one hell of a pussy and mouth on her." You didn't need to see his face to know the absolute pleasure he had saying that to your best friend.

Tag List: @jackles010378 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @zombie-freak If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #ben x reader #ben x you #the boys amazon #reader insert #female reader

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voxisdaddy · 1 month

Text

Sweets

C/TW: Mentions of sex but otherwise nothing bad.

Nah but imagine Vox knowing you have a crush on him and he’s thinking like, yeah I could take advantage of this—meaning ‘hell yeah I get laid and an attractive partner? Sign me up’. Regardless of what your relationship with him is, he is interested and down to fuck and have a possible sexual relationship with you from here on out. So he makes his move by inviting you to his personal living quarters in the Vee Tower. You walk in, heart fluttering about at the prospect your crush wanting to spend time with you, and are quickly met with Vox. He of course puts the moves on you; charming smirk, the correct choice of words, arm wrapping around your hips or your waist as he pulls you in closer to him. He hints at something—a burning desire. You’re flustered in his arms. He’s thinking, yeah he’s got this in the bag. But then you push on his chest and unwrap yourself from his arm. Wait what? “Vox,”—You’d start, “I’m flattered but…I’m not that kind of person.” You then excuse yourself and before Vox knows it, he’s standing alone in his living quarters. You’re into him? He knows this. What happened? Despite his annoyances with the results, he still persists. He spends the next several weeks trying to seduce you, flirting with you very sexually—not Valentino level but still sexually charged. Yet every time he gets shot down. One day he’s ranting to Velvette about it to which she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Is sex the only thing you can think about?” Velvette whips out her phone, pulling up your social media pages, all your likes, comments, reposts, music playlists, shows and movies you watch, ect,. “They’re a romantic—A fucking sweet one at that. Taking advantage of their feelings just so you can get your dick wet whenever you want isn’t gonna get you anywhere, darling.” Vox spends a few days thinking it over. Okay so a more romantic approach. But he tried inviting you over! He even set the mood and everything. Though it was with the hope that…it would quickly lead to having you naked on his bed. He probably has some sort of mental war with himself about it too. Like why’s he trying so hard? It isn’t until he spots you on one of his cameras where he realizes he may want something much more than just sex with you. But is it too late? Did all his attempts at wooing you really scare you away? He watched with bated breath as you sat on a water fountain, gingerly typing away on your phone. You were wearing the loveliest looking spring dress/shirt. You looked so…beautiful. So sweet. So innocent. And romantic. A type of romance that seemed like it didn’t exist in hell. He was so mesmerized he didn’t even realize a second figure coming to sit next to you. He only realized when you put your phone down and smiled sweetly at the person. Who was this person? Why are you so close together? Why do you look like you’re blushing—? Oh. It’s a date.

As a hopeless romantic, reading Vox x Reader fics and so many of them having some kind of sexual undertone or more mature tone makes me kind of sad. I truly love tooth rotting fluffy romance. Think—picnic in a cherry blossom field while wearing the strawberry dress. So I wanted to write a little (not so little, it kinda got away from me) imagine where Vox’s idea of romance clashes with readers and it ends up only pushing them away. So yeah. Here’s that. I mean no disrespect to everyone’s fics of them tho—trust me they’re delicious in every way possible but I just really need to feed my hopeless sweet romantic side for a bit <3

#hazbin hotel #x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #fluff #kinda angsty #I really wanted a more sweet fun innocent love okay lol #in my delusions he calls me sweetheart

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bigfatbimbo · 3 months

Note

hi!!!! so i absolutely adore ur writing and was wondering if you could do angst. idk if this is up your alley or anything but if it’s not you don’t have to write it dw abt it!

so basically vox x reader

reader is really sad bc something happened and just isn’t in the mood for vox when he comes home from work. so vox being himself is annoying and instead of reader being mad or even like having a reaction (she’s usually a dom btw) she just like breaks down. ik this is a little random but i think it’s a pretty cute idea. have a nice day/night xxx

a/n — I had a TERRIBLE day so here’s this hurt/comfort fic to cope.

Vox’s shit-eating grin slowly faltered before completing dropping as he took in the situation. He barely even remembered what he’d said but, obviously, you didn’t take it well.

He felt a pang of guilt as he looked at you on the couch, crying into your hands. He knew you were in a bad mood when he got home. Of course, he didn’t know just how bad of a mood.

He saw your irritation right off that bat, he had asked what was wrong and you had brushed him off, snapping at him slightly.

That’s about when Vox had decided to escalate the situation. Throwing annoying taunts at you, teasing you, begging for you to do something about it.

Of course he wanted a reaction, but more on the lines of you slamming him against a wall and putting him in his place. Under no circumstances did he think you would start crying.

And yet, here you were, crying into your hands on the couch, over some bratty remark Vox had made.

“I— uh, my dear, I didn’t mean anything—“ he tried to clarify, stretching his arm slightly out as if to touch you. He wasn’t sure what to do.

“Shut up, Vox,” you cried, “Don’t you know when to shut up?” Your words weren’t laced with venom or overly angry liked he’d expected. In fact, that would have been better.

In contrast to your usual nature, you just seemed overall sad. More than sad, Vox thought, totally spent.

It was no secret he was terrible at comforting people, giving people false hope and manipulating them into doing something for him, sure. But this?

Well, convincing someone they feel better and actually making someone feel better were incredibly different. He was totally lost.

Your sobs got louder and more violent as moments passed. And yet, he stood there like an idiot, giving you a blank stare.

As if going through the motions, he recites a list in his mind. What to people usually do to help someone when they’re crying? Maybe, give them a hug?

He sighed and sat down next to you on the couch, cautiously putting his hand your shoulder and rubbing gently.

Apologize next, Vox’s mental list demanded.

“Look,” he started, awkwardly fiddling with his collar, “I didn’t mean to bother you by giving you all that shit. I knew you weren’t in the mood I just—“

He struggled with the next part, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

The strange thing is, he really really meant it. Usually, an apology for Vox was one step further in getting what he wanted all along. However, this time the fact he made you cry actually erked him like nothing else before.

He apologized solely because he wanted you to feel better.

“I’m just not in the mood for your shit, Vox,” you answer, choked out and muffled as you wipe the tears from your face.

“I know. Well, now I do.” He went over his metal list once more, “So what’s got you so out of sorts this evening, my dear?”

“I’ve just—“ you sniff, trying to take in your thoughts, “—I’ve had a long day.”

“I’m all ears,” he answers immediately. If there’s one thing Vox was good at, it was listening.

You rant to him about the mishaps of the day, how fed up you were with so-and-so, how tired you were of life being so hard.

The entire time, Vox listened, plotting the perfect reply out in his mind, and checking off boxes on his list.

“Well, it’s over now, your home. And I won’t be an asshole anymore,” He says, earning a raised eyebrow from you.

“I’ll try not to be an asshole anymore,” he corrects, provoking a small but noticeable smile out of you. He rewards himself, internally.

Hug them, he told himself.

He moved closer to you and hesitantly wrapped his arms around your stomach, rubbing your back gently. To his delight, you ease into the hug, arms looping around his neck as you recovered from your breakdown.

“You’re so not getting laid tonight, by the way,” you joke, still in the hug.

“Yes, my dear. Unfortunately, I figured.” he sighed and continued rubbing your back.

“Do you wanna go watch TV upstairs?” you inquire.

“Always,” he grinned.

“Do you wanna keeping hugging while we do that,” you ask, genuinely curious.

His smile softened, “always.”

a/n — and then the next day you railed him into a mattress until he was crying harder than you ever were. The end.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel fluff

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donotpush · 3 months

Text

Daily vlog

CW: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth

"So..." Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. "Are we filming Baby #3 birth?"

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa's tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. "Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It's a tradition at this point, right, honey?"

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn't, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn't have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“...maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn't him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren't contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt's cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn't just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam's mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn't something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

"Fuck, fuck fuck..." gripping at the couch's back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn't even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby's backpack again “It's a tradition at this point. Of course, we're filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn't matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn't sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger's seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn't make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-... nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby's head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband's legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“...fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

"You filmed it, right?”

#birth kink #pregnancy #labor #birth denial #pregnancy fantasy #mpreg #fpreg #clothing birth #car birth #birt in car #trying to hold it in #stories

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greatooglymooglyyy · 3 months

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Anniversary Blues (Matt Sturniolo)

contains: angst, verbal arguing, slight gaslighting, making up, fluff, 900+ words

I kiss my teeth and glare at the back of my boyfriend’s head, wondering how childish it would be if I smacked his ass as hard as I could with my pillow. If he notices my sour mood, he’s doing a great job at ignoring it, instead sitting at the end of his bed watching some Netflix show. He honestly looks really cute when he’s into a new show like this, and any other day, I wouldn’t mind the lack of attention. But any other day wouldn’t be our anniversary.

Yep, that's right. A whole trip around the sun worth of love and affection poured into this man and he can’t even seem to remember the date.

I reach for my phone and check the time. Half past 8. I sigh and try to push down my disappointment as I realize that there is no surprise coming and he really just forgot.

I roll out of his bed and start gathering my belongings to make my way home. Might as well sulk in my own bed.

“Tempur-Pedic bed having motherfucker.” I mutter under my breath as I slip my shoes on. Matt finally seems to register that he does somehow have a girlfriend, turning to me and knitting his brows together in confusion.

“You’re not staying the night?” He asks, pausing the show and standing up. He catches the look in my eye before I can try to push it away. “What’s wrong?”

"Nothing."

"Okay..." He says reaching to unpause his show again which causes me to snap.

“I can’t believe you actually forgot our first anniversary, Matt. I spent the whole day thinking there’s no way he’s this clueless, but nope! You definitely are. Look at you, setting the standard for idiots everywhere.” I rant, grabbing my purse and watching his face fall. I start for his door, but he catches me by the waist and pulls me into his arms.

“Woah. Woah. Okay. Fuck. My bad. It completely slipped my mind. I didn’t even forget the day, babe. I just didn’t even know what day it was. How do I fix it?” He says, trying his best to placate me.

I sigh and pull away, still annoyed, and force a smile. “It’s cool, Matt. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? It’s just one day.” He says, the slight hint of irritation in his tone now. I raise my eyebrow at him. “That’s how you wanna play this, Matthew?”

“I’m just saying, if I buy you flowers and take you out tomorrow, what’s the difference? It's one meaningless day." He says flopping back onto his bed and rolling his eyes.

I pause for a second, gauging to see if he really believes that. At the nonchalant look on his face, my eyes narrow to slits, genuinely pissed off now.

“Damn, you really are just a boy.” I say before I spin around and storm out of his house.

**********

When Matt’s name pops up for the 15th time on my carplay, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and lean my head back against the seat. I’m sitting in a parking lot eating the ice cream I got from Dairy Queen, thinking about how fucked up my boyfriend has me.

It wasn’t even about the gifts or even really about the day; the lack of effort and care is really just so crazy to me.

I sigh and decide that maybe it’s not worth the fight. Tomorrow, I'll let it go. But today, I'll hate him a little. As I look in the rearview mirror, preparing to back out, something blue in the backseat catches my eye. I turn and reach for what I can now make out, hidden under a t-shirt—a very pretty Tiffany box. It’s the ring I showed Matt on TikTok over ten months ago. My heart starts to hammer as I read the little note he’s engraved.

When you know, you know. -M

My eyes start to water a bit as I back out and head back to Matt’s house. When I get there, he swings the door open before I can knock. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for forgetting. I’m sorry for being that fucking stupid. I know the day’s important to you and you are so important to me. Our relationship is everything to me. It freaks me out how much I care. But I do care.” He says in a rush, barely even taking a breath.

“It’s okay, Matt. I get that you have a different love language. I just don’t like that you made me feel stupid for even being upset.”

“I know. I know. I just panicked and went full-asshole. I’m sorry.” He says, pulling me into the house and wrapping his arms around me. I bury my head in his chest for a second and then pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

“This is your one fuckup card; you better add my birthday and every single one of our anniversaries to your phone calendar.”

“There are more?" He whispers, in abject horror. I laugh and shove his chest playfully.

“By the way, I found the ring you hid in my car.” I say before I hold my hand up like a bride to show him. He smiles wide and laces his fingers with mine, kissing my hand.

“Finally, it only took you nine months.”

“You bought it that soon after we started dating?” I ask, shock evident in my voice.

“Didn’t you read the engraving?” He asks, still grinning, before he tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me in for a kiss that makes my knees go weak.

#matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo angst #sturniolo fanfic

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princessbrunette · 4 months

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rafe getting “mad” at reader and yelling at her for being clingy baby :((, calling her a dog. “you’re like— you’re like a fucking puppy following me, go sit down somewhere” and something in your brain just clicks. you don’t even walk away you just sit, right there, at his feet as he works :(( he’s so confused at first but at the same time… he’s not surprised. in fact, he just rolls with it !! finally some peace and quiet

🐶✩°｡⋆⸜ ୨୧

he’s in a foul mood, having been storming around tannyhill all day making thunderous phone calls and talking to himself irritably under his breath. you knew he was busy, and you didn’t wanna bother him — so you stayed quiet, but what you didn’t know, was that following him around in silence was also setting him on edge, and now he was mad at you, and you were just so confused, pouting infront of him. your hazy mind didn’t care that he had things to do and couldn’t give you his usual attention, you just wanted to be in his space.

having followed him through to the hallway, he tells you off then and there.

“and — and i got you, followin’ me around like a puppy when i’m just tryna focus, n’now you’re lookin’ at me like I’m the bad guy, for just trying to work?” he rants, pointing to his chest as you stand idly infront of him, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt.

“i just—”

“no, okay— you need to just— just go sit somewhere, alright?” he lifts a hand up by his head with expanded fingers like he always did when he was mad and taking his words literally, you nervously lower yourself to the ground, squatting into a little ball. you look up at him, lost, arms wrapped around your shins, knees at your chest. “no, i—” he cuts himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

he collects himself rather quickly, realising you only shut down more when he’s mad, and the madder he gets the harder you will be to communicate with. he lowers himself to your level, squatting infront of you and yet somehow ten times your size.

“listen to me, alright? i didn’t mean sit here.” he explains slower, gentler. you blink your glassy eyes at him, waiting patiently. “if you wanna sit somewhere, just like that— you can come to my office, sit on the floor by my feet. that sound— that sound good?” he shakes his head, exasperated — having no idea what helps you these days.

you sniffle but smile happily, an odd contrast and nod. he stands to his full height, taking your hand and helping you up before guiding you to walk infront of him, steering you by the shoulders to the spot. he takes the cushion off his chair, dropping it to the ground and gestures for you to go to it. “go ‘head. m’gonna be right here, okay? no need to stress out on me. m’right here.” he sends you a look as he sits down, already lifting the landline to his ear and started to dial back the number from earlier.

you’re happy like that, listening to him talk on the phone. he doesn’t admit it, but your quiet presence does actually help him once he’s settled, seeming to talk to the businessmen on the phone alot more quietly and understanding. you know his mood has lifted a little, because whilst he rambles on the phone, he reaches over and gives your head a little scratch.

🐶✩°｡⋆⸜ ୨୧

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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pottersfia · 8 months

Note

omg since you said you were in the mood for theo fluff… can i please request some mutual pining, grumpy x sunshine, hufflepuff reader fluff? 🤭 where his friends are teasing him for being all happy around her since they started talking more and it ends with a confession or something?

a/n: AHHH i loved this so much thank you for the request, hopefully you enjoy it i’m always iffy about my fics but… anyway!

word count: 1,159

potions class was arguably one of the most interesting classes you had, but that didn't mean it wasn't challenging. you were assigned to brew felix felicis and you were finding it hard to simply start.

you looked around at the students next to you. your fellow hufflepuff friends seemed to be struggling a bit as well. on the other side of you were a few slytherins, draco, blaise, and theodore who you had only talked to a handful of times.

"doing alright, y/n?" your friend hannah asked. you turned to her and looked down at the "potion infront of you as you replied with, "umm.. not so much?" you laughed with hannah as she told you about how confused she was herself.

you looked back over at theodore who was right next to you. you saw how he skillfully accomplished each step with ease. as if he could feel your gaze he looked up at you.

"do you need something?" he asked, causing you to look up at him.

"oh! sorry i just," you pointed to his potion, "i'm completely confused, how did you do that?" you asked.

without a word he helped you with the first step. he laid out everything you needed and mixed your first ingredients.

"just follow my lead." he smirked slightly at you. you nodded and followed all his movements.

•••

"thanks for the help, theodore." you said as class ended. he couldn't help but smile slightly at your words. no one really called him theodore. it was always nott or theo. he liked it coming from you.

"anytime." he said and left to catch up with his friends.

the next few days you and theodore talked more and more in potions class. well, you did most of the talking, eagerly ranting about a book you read or complaining about an assignment you did bad on, whatever it was theodore was all ears. draco and blaise were completely shocked by this. normally their friend didn't bother talking you anyone besides them in their classes. he kept to himself often dozing off or whispering to draco and blaise instead of paying attention.

but now his energy switched as he'd walk into potions. once he saw you sat at your seat talking to hannah his face lit up with a small smile. a smile draco and blaise never missed. he greeted you cheerfully and encouraged you to converse with him about any and everything.

•••

"what did you get on the essay, theo?" pansy asked the boy who clearly wasn't paying attention to the conversation his friends were having. the group was out in the courtyard killing sometime during their free afternoon.

"theo? hello?" pansy waved her hand infront of his face after he didn't respond. he looked away from what was distracting him and looked back at pansy.

"what?" he asked. draco and blaise laughed knowing exactly what was happening.

"why are you two laughing?" he asked.

"a little distracted by someone, theo?" draco teased.

"a little more than a little bit." pansy grumbled.

"someone? who?" daphne asked. theodore rolled his eyes.

"drop it draco." he said.

"it's y/n. that hufflepuff in our potions class." blaise pointed to you, sitting under a tree talking to a few of your friends. how cold he not stare at you, he thought you looked perfect all of the time. you turned and saw the group of slytherins staring at you and as intimidating as it was, you smiled and waved at theodore quickly turning away. he smiled.

"oh you're whipped." draco laughed.

"i knew something was different about you." daphne smiled. theodore gave her a questioning look. "you've been so happy lately."

"i don't know what you mean." theodore shrugged.

"you should see him in potions class, he sits right next to her." blaise commented.

"all he does is smile and stare at her." draco and blaise laugh some more, pansy and daphne joining in at the image of theodore nott being smitten.

"it's not that funny." he replied.

"it kind of is, mate." blaise said. "why don't you just ask her out."

"she doesn't like me like that."

"are you dumb." draco shoved his shoulder.

"no, she doesn't! she's just a nice person. she talks to everyone."

meanwhile, you and your friends, hannah and susan, were talking about none other than theodore.

"he's pretty hot, you have good taste y/n." hannah said.

"but does he actually talk?" susan asked

"of course he does. i mean, i talk more but he has a voice." you reply.

"and he's actually nice?"

"he is! and he's funny too."

"he hasn't asked to shag you?"

you squinted your eyes at susan. "no. he hasn't."

you had a feeling he might like you too, but you weren't sure. he'd sometimes give you little compliments or make flirty comments but everyone said he was basically an f boy. you found that a little hard to believe after getting to know him more, though.

"you should ask him out." hannah said.

"what?" you raised your eyebrows.

"y/n, i see the way he looks at you during potions class, there's no way he'd say no!" she said.

"do it now!" susan smiled.

“now?!” you exclaimed.

“now!” they both practically yelled at you, which caught the attention of theodore and his other slytherin friends.

“guys shut up! ok. i’ll go.” you stood up and nervously walked over to theodore with a smile.

theodore couldn’t keep his eyes off you. he smiled once he caught your eyes and saw you were approaching him.

“guys, shut up, she’s coming.” he whisper shouted to the group.

you gave a small wave once you stood infront of theodore.

“hi theodore.” you said.

“theodore?” pansy questioned but blaise shoved her to keep her quiet.

“hi y/n.” theodore replied.

“i wanted to tell you something.”

theodore stood up.

“you can tell me away from these losers.” he placed his hand on your arm and led you away from his friends who were making teasing and making comments.

“i actually wanted to ask you something too.” he said.

“really? what is it?” you asked. he shook his head.

“you first.” he put his hand in his pockets and tilted his head with a small smirk. you sighed and fidgeted with your fingers.

“i just wanted to saw that i like you. like a lot, and i wanted to know if you maybe wanted to go out sometime? with me?” you asked. theodore was, for lack of better words, flabbergasted. he sort of froze partially because he couldn’t believe you were asking him out and partially because he wanted to ask first.

“i was going to ask the same thing.” he smiled. a wide smile, bigger than the small smirks he usually gave you. it was beautiful. “of course i do, y/n. i like you too.”

you smiled back at him and gave him a hug which he instantly reciprocated.

#theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff

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ashurzs · 6 months

Text

imagine cat x dog trope, you being the dog with ur best friend being the cat..

you’d constantly go up to him, showing him everything, talking about your day and random things, while he just nods and keeps the conversation going.

cat x dog trope, being around him almost any time you can. a class together? you’re sitting next to him! lunch? you can go to that new cafe 10 minutes away! some other person keeping his attention from being only yours? man :(! it’s okay though.. he keeps his hand on your thigh to make you know he’s still there, but you’re so much more better than whoever he’s talking to!

cat x dog trope where dog will always perk up at the mention of cat, or even something somewhat related to him. favorite snack? cat likes chocolate! cat’s last name.? oh it’s- oo cat likes that brand of gum as well!!

but when they bring up cat with a shy smile and blushy face, you can’t help but feel your mood instantly changing. sulking sadly, you listen to the rants of someone else talking about how perfect of a boyfriend cat would be.

“such a jealous puppy..” he coos while kissing your neck. you blush and try and push the arms that wrap around your bare waist so snuggly away. “n-nuh uh..!”

“oh.? so if i started to hang out with them, you wouldn’t be upset.?” he swears if you had ears they’d instantly be drooping down. “w-wha..?! but!-“

“shh” he pinches at your nipple, successfully shutting you up. “only you, only my jealous puppy yeah?” you melt at the pet name he calls you, subtly grinding your ass against his lap.

“yeah? keep talking f’me..” he coos out, kissing the tears that never seem to stop falling from your eyes. with a sniffle, you whine again. “i-i’m better than them..!” letting out pathetic moans and pants as you continue to go up and down on his cock has you struggling to keep speaking coherent sentences.

“mee.. only me!” “i know baby, i know..” he coos condescendingly, the grip on your hips harsher and he practically takes control of your body by forcing you to keep moving up and down.

he smiles at your blushy face and dilated eyes, “whatt, my baby dumb already?”he bites on your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin to leave marks as he feels you clench around him once more. “aw, puppy getting close from bouncing on his best friend’s dick.?” nodding your head quickly with shut eyes and letting out whiny moans, you cum.

twitching as he continues to use you as if you were his fleshlight, you try and push yourself away. “t-too much..!”

“you can give me more, can’t you pretty baby.?”

jus a silly lil drabble :3 actually rlly like cat x dog trope tho !

#asher's works !!#mxm #bottom male reader #male reader smut #male reader #bottom reader #smut drabble #drabble #nsft #gay #male x male #male x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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phefics · 4 months

Text

𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: george o'malley x reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you're george's best friend. after a night of drinking, you two hook-up, then try to pretend it never happened. prompted by @grimeslovebot!! 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: fem!reader, surgery intern!reader, george isn't married/a cheater, drunk sex, unprotected sex, sort of angsty/cliffhanger ending, pt 2 coming soon 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.7k

It had been a hard, long week at Seattle Grace Hospital. You had spent most of it in the clinic, which wasn’t very exciting, but it had put you on Bailey’s good side, which was always a good thing.

George, on the other hand, had been given a chance to scrub in on an incredible surgery and the patient, unfortunately, hadn’t made it. It had upset him, losing someone so young, and he had been sulking around the halls the past few days.

“Why don’t we do something fun tonight?” you suggested, sensing that his mood wasn’t going to get better without a gentle nudge. Like all the other surgery interns, the job often took a toll on him, and only another intern was capable of understanding their pain.

“Like what?” he asked, not looking up from the chart he was reading.

“I don’t know…Go to the bar with the other interns?“ you suggested.

George looked up at you with a fond look on his face. “You mean, like we do all the time?”

“I’m just brainstorming!” you defended, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You and George had immediately gotten along at the beginning of your internship, and had been inseparable friends ever since. All it took was a certain expression on his face, or a specific tone of voice for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You were smiling, because you knew that fond look on his face meant, ‘I know you’re trying to cheer me up, and going to a bar with Karev is not the right approach.’

So, you tried again. “Or we could go back to the house, watch a movie, have some drinks and snacks? I think Meredith is on call tonight, anyway, so the house will be quieter than usual.”

He notated something on the chart, giving you a nod. “Sure, that sounds nice. Uh, I have to go run some labs, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

“See you!”

It was a few hours later when George put his tray down next to yours on the cafeteria table, flopping down into his seat with a sigh.

“Drinks tonight is just what I need,” he said.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, patting his arm. “I’ll stop by the liquor store after my shift.”

“You’re the best,” George said, and his tone was so sincere, combined with that fond look in his big, brown eyes, it made your face flush.

The moment was ruined when Meredith came to the table, practically slamming her food down as she began to rant about her drama with McDreamy, and you were grateful for the distraction.

George was your best friend. Surely you weren’t interested in him…like that. George O’Malley, who was shy and awkward, who was into all his nerdy shit, who made you laugh more than anyone else, who knew you better than anyone…

Well, shit. That wasn’t a great revelation to have in the middle of your work day. You were falling for your best friend.

Meredith’s voice faded to the background as you processed it. Relationships within the hospital always seemed to get messy. You were co-workers, roommates, friends. If it went wrong, it would ruin so much. But if it went well...God, if it went well, it would be so perfect.

"Earth to Y/N?" George said, his fingers waving in front of your face.

You startled from your thoughts. "What?"

"Your pager is going off. Didn't you hear it?"

"Shit," you muttered, grabbing for your pager as you rose to your feet, already preparing to sprint.

"See you later!" George called after you as you ran from the cafeteria.

Later that evening, you changed out of your scrubs in the locker room before heading out of the hospital, stopping at the liquor store and picking up a few bottles of assorted drinks, making sure to grab George's favorite, as well as stopping at a gas station for snacks.

By the time you made it back to the house, your arms full of bags, George was there to help you bring the bags inside.

You picked a film while George mixed some drinks, curling up beside each other on the couch.

"Cheers to surviving another week," he said.

You smiled and clinked your glass with his.

The film you chose was supposed to be sci-fi, but there was an unnecessary romance plot thrown in, and the drunker you got, the more frustrated you became.

"If the world was fucking ending, I would be less concerned with getting laid," you quipped, rolling your eyes at the television.

George was also pretty tipsy by that point, and he laughed. "I think it's sweet. I mean, he's clearly been in love with her for a while. If you thought you weren't going to live much longer, wouldn't you want to seize the opportunity?"

You hummed, considering it. “But what if the world doesn’t end? And now you’ve just made things awkward.”

“Or you’ve made things better,” George said. He had a giddy smile on his face, like he was genuinely daydreaming about the concept.

“You thinking about someone specific?” you teased, nudging him in the ribs playfully.

“Shut up,” he replied, his cheeks flushed, not just due to the alcohol.

You broke into a grin, his lie obvious. "Oh, you are! Tell me, tell me," you chanted, words slurred slightly as you nudged him repeatedly, even sneaking your hands out to tickle his side.

He yelped, batting uselessly at your hands. "No! There's nothing to tell!" he insisted, but his giggling didn't make the words sound very convincing.

Somehow, you ended up halfway in his lap, still poking and prodding at him and demanding to know his little secret, too tipsy to care about the close proximity, or about the fact that his answer might not be who you wanted it to be.

Thankfully, his answer was just what you wanted, and it didn't even come verbally. In a last ditch effort to get you to stop assailing him, George had grabbed your face and pulled you in for a clumsy kiss.

The movie wasn't even half-finished, but it was totally forgotten as you and George got to your feet, stumbling through the house and towards his bedroom, each moment where your lips weren't pressed together spent giggling.

There were no words necessary, your mouths too occupied with kissing to bother. George had already grown hard in his pajama pants, the imprint of his well-sized cock clearly visible through the plaid fabric.

You laid down on his bed, fingers fumbling to remove your top, and George pulled his own shirt over his head with a big of a struggle, the heat of the moment combined with the liquor making every movement desperate and uncoordinated.

It wasn't long until you both completely naked, tangled in his bed sheets. He held your face with so much care, thumb stroking your jaw as he kissed you.

"Youhave no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed, lining his cock up with your entrance. "Since the ice breaker before our internship, I swear..."

"Me too," you replied. "Didn't even realize how bad I needed you, but it's always been there."

You two both moaned as he entered you, your fingernails digging into his back. It felt so good, the stretch of his cock filling you. It was a blessing that no one else was home to hear the way the bed creaked, the way you gasped and how he groaned.

As he fucked you, George used his thumb to rub circles on your clit, bringing you close to orgasm as he approached his own.

"Fuck," you breathed. "I'm gonna—"

"Me too," he said.

It didn't long for you to both be finished, laying spent on his flannel bedsheets. From the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline, you both fell asleep like that, naked and cuddled together.

***

When you awoke the next morning, you immediately felt the headache before your eyes had even opened. Weren't you too old, too mature to be getting hungover like this? And you were on-call today, which was just the cherry on top.

Or, so you thought. The real cherry on top was when you opened your eyes and say none other than your best friend, George O'Malley, laying next to you.

Fuck, you thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You jumped out of the bed, and your head pounded in protest. You ignored it, too occupied with the fact that you were naked, your clothes strewn about George's bedroom floor. You gathered them up hastily and snuck out of his room, dashing into your own.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Maybe George wouldn't remember! Maybe you could just move on, pretending that it had never happened.

It was wishful thinking, though. Once you had showered, gotten ready for work, and eaten some semblance of breakfast, George emerged from his bedroom, still shirtless, and nearly bumped right into you in the hallway.

"Morning," he said, sounding exhausted. "What the hell did we drink last night?"

"Don't remember," you replied. "I gotta go. See you later!"

You weren't being very subtle. Izzie, Meredith, and Cristina kept questioning why you were acting jumpy, flustered, and hungover.

"Did you go on a date?" Izzie asked.

Meredith chimed in. "Was it someone here?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're screwing an attending, too," Cristina said.

"I just didn't get much sleep," you replied.

Thankfully, your pager beeped and gave you an excuse to leave. You went to the room you were summoned to, expecting to find a patient in need or an attending who wanted you to scrub in.

Instead, you found an empty room with none other than George O'Malley standing in it.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," you replied, fighting the urge to run right back out of the room.

"So, when I was getting dressed this morning, I noticed the, um...Well, the scratches on my back. I just want to make sure...It was you, right? Like, I didn't do something totally stupid?"

"It was me," you said. "And who says it wasn't stupid? We...We're friends, George, we shouldn't...I mean, I don't want to lose that."

George's face fell slightly, and you focused your gaze on the floor to ignore it.

"Of course," he replied. "Yeah, no, you're right. We were drunk, anyway. It didn't...It didn't have to mean anything."

"Cool. Well, uh...I'll see you later."

You rushed out of the room, refusing to look back at him.

(there will be a part two, don't worry!!)

#george o’malley x you #george o’malley smut #george o'malley x reader #george o’malley x y/n #george omalley #george omalley x reader #george o'malley fic #george omalley fic #george omalley smut #greys anatomy fic #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greys fic #ophelia's fics

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rainylana · 1 year

Text

“Yeah.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: eddie calls reader a b*tch

warnings: language, angst, tears.

a/n: i know these past fics have been short, i’m sorry, but i’m still trying my hand at getting back into this! they’ll get longer, i promise! feedback is appreciate!! :)

Eddie was not in a good mood. You knew this the moment you saw him through the window of his van when he came to pick you up for school. He ranted all morning about how he needed money for new tires, money he didn’t have. Work was cutting him hours and he couldn’t afford it. He was tired of not having money, tired of not getting what he wanted. He was having a damn bad day.

And of course, you listened graciously, but after four hours of watching him sulk in class and be a dick to his friends, it was starting to take it’s toll. He was pouting and you understood why. He came from a poor family and he wouldn’t let you help out financially in anyway whatsoever, no matter how hard you begged. You didn’t want to seem rude and make his bad day seem unappreciated or invalid, but he was treating his friends, and you, poorly to a degree. Not so much you.

Lunch was almost unbearable. Everyone walked on eggshells. Eddie was one of the most dramatic people on the face of the earth and everyone had to suffer for it. Hours past and he’d taken you home from school. Your plan was to go over to his house for a movie night, hoping that a few hours apart would help him settle down and cool off. It done no good. He was absolutely enraged when you got there. The hood of his van was up, smoke flying overhead and his dark curls pulled up away from his face. You didn’t even really know what was wrong with it. It didn’t make sense when he told you. Cars were his detail.

Dinner was no change. You sat and listened to him complain about how none of the guy’s were apparently taking the new campaign seriously. He had a hole in his last pair of good jeans. You felt guilty being annoyed by this, but he hadn’t once asked you how your day was or even kissed you! You were going to loose your mind. Without thinking, you snapped.

“Oh, my god!” You wailed, throwing your silverware down. “Jesus, christ, Eddie, take a breath!”

His eyes were round and wide. “Pardon me?”

You took a breath yourself, forcing yourself to not snap and say something you’d regret. You placed your elbows on the table and rubbed your face. “Baby, I’m sorry you’re having such a bad day, but holy shit you’ve not stopped talking for one second!” You really did have a pounding headache. “You’ve been talking about money all day! Can’t we just have a change of topic, please.”

He looked taken back. Shocked. “Oh, I see. It’s all gotta be bout you, right? Fucking forgive me for having a bad day!” He threw down his fist, clinking the dinnerware together.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Eddie.” You sighed tiredly. “I’m saying that you’ve not acknowledged me at all today. You’ve not kissed me or asked how my day was. I’m sorry you’re stressed out about money, but you’ve been taking it out one everyone, Eddie. You need to calm down.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Calm down? Well, last time I checked you were living in a grand castle on daddy’s money, right? You have no idea the kind of shit Wayne and I have to got through to make ends meet, y/n.” He stood abruptly and yanked open the fridge for a beer.

“Hey,” You raised your voice. “I’m not trying to belittle you, Eddie. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to take your frustration out on everyone, out on me. I’m sorry I snapped at you, okay-”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” He took a long swig after he threw the tab in the sink. “You’re my girlfriend! You’re supposed to be supportive and shit. Only thing you’re being is a bitch.” He sneered like a snake, pointing at you like you were his worst enemy.

Your face dropped at the curse, and as stupid as it felt, your heart sank. Eddie had never said anything like that to you before. Your face burned red and the room got eerily quiet. You felt your eyes immediately blur with tears of embarrassment and humiliation. You had tried to help him, offer solutions. You tried to lend a hand, offer him money and look for jobs in the newspaper at lunch. He acknowledged none of this.

You bit your lip to keep from crying, a lump building in your throat that made you feel sick. You had your head turned to the wall so he wouldn’t see you, but you couldn’t keep it in. You let out a quiet sob, tears falling down your face as you looked down. Your face was red hot, and you brought up your hand to your chest. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” You cried. “I’ve been t-trying to help, I-” Your voice broke and you couldn’t speak as tears escaped, your face twisting into tears. You sat there and cried for a few minutes before you felt the seat dip next to you.

“Hey,” His voice cooed softly, turning your shoulder to pull you toward him. You allowed him to, and you looked eyes briefly before climbing into his lap, wrapping your legs around his torso, your feet dangling off the bench. Your arms were tight around his neck, your face buried in his shirt where you sniffled. He smelled of cologne and dirt.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, voice low and sad. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He rubbed your back up and down, kissing the side of your head when you let out a whimper.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” You said tearfully, holding him like a teddy bear. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about money.”

You felt him sigh heavily. “It’s okay. I got the most important thing in the world right here with me.” He pulled you away so he could look up at you. His eyes were brown and full, his lips pulled into a frown at your tear stricken face. He took his thumbs and wiped them. “I’m sorry I called you that. You know I didn’t mean it, right? You know I didn’t.”

You nodded slowly, wiping your nose with your hand. “Yeah.” You creaked.

He tapped your chin. “Yeah.” Then your nose and to wipe away another tear. He leaned up to plant a tiny kiss on your lips, then one on the corner of your mouth. You leaned down to kiss back, deepening it with your tongue and a hand locking in his curls. Your noses pressed together like puzzle pieces. Perfectly fit.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb

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theostrophywife · 8 months

Text

kiss with a fist | chapter three.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: high enough by k. flay.

author's note: we're well on our way. this is a shorter(ish) chapter, but that just means that you might get the next one sooner rather than later. as always, please enjoy the banter and sarcasm.

Angel’s Trumpet was going to be the death of you.

You were convinced of it.

The multiple failed attempts to brew the wretched draught hung over you like a pall and followed you into your second week. When Wednesday night finally rolled around, you were in a proper foul mood. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take more than one bite of lasagne, which was usually your favorite.

Beside you, Luna set the latest copy of the Quibbler down and looked over at you with concern. “Still having trouble with potions?”

You nodded, sighing in frustration. “It’s this bloody Angel’s Trumpet. I’ve read over the recipe so many times that it’s practically ingrained into my subconscious, but I just can’t seem to get it right.”

Your roommate smiled faintly. “I know,” she said in her breathy voice. “You do come up with some rather creative curses when you’re studying.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Loons, have I kept you up with my late night ranting again?”

“No need to apologize. The wrackspurts are truly doing a number on everyone, not just you. They’re especially rampant during the start of term.” Her dreamy eyes sharpened into something that resembled mischief. “And how are your sessions with Theodore going?”

The faint smile on your friend’s face told you that she definitely knew more than she let on. Besides you and Theo, Luna was the only person in Hogwarts who knew about your secret little dalliances. She had figured it out rather early on last year when you and Theo kept mysteriously disappearing at the same time. It was a shame that everyone underestimated her. Luna Lovegood was the most astute person you knew.

You had absolutely no doubt that your secret was just one of many that Luna had uncovered by simply being observant. After all, teenagers weren’t exactly covert even if they were witches and wizards.

“Miserably,” you finally answered.

Much to your annoyance, Theo had not let up since the weekend. Day after day, he dragged you into the potions lab with varying disastrous results. Just the other night, the damned cauldron spewed magenta liquid like a geyser, effectively soaking you and Theo in pepto bismol pink like a demented water park ride. No amount of scourgify could wash away the shame.

Luna laughed. “Pansy said that Theo spent hours scrubbing potion off of his fancy leather shoes.”

“Pansy?” you asked incredulously. “As in, Pansy Parkinson? Since when are you two the best of friends?”

Your friend shrugged nonchalantly, but you clocked the slight flush in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to replace you. Pansy and I just have a few classes together, that’s all.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is she being nice to you? I swear to Godric if she even says one mean thing I’ll stick a broom up that witch’s ar—“

Luna held her palms up. “I appreciate the concern, but I assure you Pansy is very nice.”

That wasn’t entirely convincing, but you trusted Luna’s judgment. As protective as you were over your friend, you knew that she was perfectly capable of handling herself.

“I just worry,” you said, patting her shoulder. “Those little serpents have teeth.”

“Oh, I think you’re more familiar with the Slytherins and their teeth than I am.”

“Loons!”

She smiled unapologetically. “Speaking of which, here comes your serpent now and he does look poised to bite.”

You turned just in time to see Theo marching down the aisle with two of his housemates. The curly headed one, Mattheo Riddle, swaggered on his right and winked at you. Flanking Theo’s left side was Enzo Berkshire, who gave you a polite wave. He was by far the most tolerable out of the lot of them. You wholly ignored Mattheo, but acknowledged Enzo with a nod.

Theo, on the other hand, you openly glared at. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

Every head at the Ravenclaw table turned towards your direction. Though your housemates liked to think they were above the petty drama, Ravenclaws were some of the worst gossips in this school. Three Slytherins walking amongst their midst was as juicy as it got.

Completely unfazed by the attention, Theo slid in next to you on the bench. “Someone’s got their wand in a twist.”

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I’ll twist more than just your wand if you don’t leave me the hell alone, Nott.”

Mattheo smirked. “Oh, I like her.”

The glare you shot his way was full of venom. “The feeling is not mutual.” Enzo fought a smile as Mattheo gaped. You ignored the both of them and turned back to Theo. “Who are they supposed to be? Your cronies?”

“Merlin, she never truly lets up, does she?” exclaimed Riddle.

Theo grinned. “You have no fucking idea, mate.” His expression faltered when he saw the ire dancing in your eyes. “Right, I know that look. Leave us before she decides to turn you two into toads.”

The boys reluctantly backed away. Beside you, Luna followed suit but winked behind her shoulder as she left the Great Hall. Luckily, Theo’s back was turned to her.

“What do you want?”

“Glory, riches, power. The usual,” he deadpanned. “What do you think I want? I've been waiting for you at the lab for half an hour.”

“I can’t,” you said dismissively. “Not tonight.”

“Oh, yes you can. I’m too invested to give up now. I am going to teach you how to brew Angel’s Trumpet even if it kills me.”

“I’d prefer to skip the brewing and get right to the fun part.” You didn’t even notice that your bantering had stopped every conversation at your table. Everyone watched as you menacingly twirled your wand. “Shall I buy a new dress for your funeral?”

Theo smirked, seizing your wrist. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly so only you could hear. “I’d rather see you wear my jumper again.”

“Let go of my hand and I’ll be sure to turn up to your wake donning your beloved jumper.”

He sighed in frustration. “I’m serious about the draught, diavolina. We’re trying again. Tonight.”

“Was my last try not humiliating enough?”

“There’s definitely room for improvement. Avoiding turning the lab into a slip and slide would be my first suggestion.” His mouth quirked in amusement. Prick. “Aside from that, I think I finally figured out the missing ingredient.”

“And that would be?”

“Relaxation,” Theo answered proudly. “You’re way too uptight and it’s feeding into your magic, hence all the explosions.”

You scoffed. “You want me to relax? I have literally never relaxed in my entire life. I came out of the womb stressed about taxes.”

Theo snorted. “That’s exactly why I’m here. Let the expert teach you, sweetheart. Being relaxed means being confident and being confident means success.”

“You do know that confidence and arrogance are two different things, right?”

“Do you want to brew the bloody potion or not?”

The fact that Theo was the one motivating you to do school work was only slightly despairing. “Fine,” you conceded. “Teach me how to relax, oh Great Master.”

“Tucking that away for names I’d like for you to call me in bed.”

“Pervert.”

“Don’t slut shame me, Y/N. We all have our kinks.”

“Great. Mine is committing acts of violence against snarky Slytherins.”

“This snarky Slytherin rather enjoys your acts of violence. Especially if it involves your smartass mouth on mine.” You flushed in response, which only made Theo smirk in satisfaction. “Now, come. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

The Astronomy Tower was the last place you expected Theo to take you to. He didn’t really strike you as a stargazing type of guy, but then again, you probably didn’t strike people as the type of girl who slept with her academic rival out of spite.

Maybe you both had layers. Layers upon fucked up layers.

The thought almost made you laugh hysterically as you silently watched Theo transfigure his robe into a blanket. He laid it gently across the wooden floor and beckoned you over. “Sit,” he said simply.

“This is awfully romantic of you. You take a lot of girls up here, Nott?”

“Only uptight little Ravenclaws who’d rather vex me to death than enjoy a stunning view of the stars.”

You snorted. “Sorry to disappoint.”

He rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. “Sit. I won’t ask again.”

To be fair to Theo (a statement you never thought you’d make), the stars were stunning tonight. You sat cross legged on the blanket and watched as constellations twinkled in the horizon. If you were up here with anyone other than the present company, you might’ve found it rather nice.

But alas, this was Theo you were talking about. It was only a matter of time before he ruined it somehow. Probably with a lascivious comment.

“Why are you sitting like you’ve got a stick up your arse?” Bingo. “Even more than usual, I mean.”

“Maybe you’re the stick up my arse.”

“Don’t joke, darling.” Theo quipped, placing a hand over his chest. “You know I’ve been asking for months.”

“Do not make me push you over that railing, Theodore.”

“Jokes on you, I find your threats incredibly arousing. I’m pitching a tent in my trousers just thinking about it.”

You rubbed your temples. “How is irritating the shit out of me supposed to be relaxing?”

Theo grinned, reaching into his pocket. “Because, I have this.”

With a proud smile, he produced a tightly rolled blunt.

“That’s your big idea?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the joint. “Taking me to the highest tower in the castle and getting higher than a hippogriff so we can potentially fall down the stairs and break our necks?”

“It’ll help with your nerves.”

“The only thing wrong with my nerves is that you’re always on them.”

He smirked, sticking the joint between his lips. “You’re deflecting. What’s the matter, diavolina? Scared to partake in the devil’s lettuce?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, give it here.” Theo’s eyes widened as you took the joint from his mouth and stuck it in yours. “Well? Are you going to light me up or not?”

He shook his head in mild disbelief before pulling a lighter out of his pocket. You squinted at the silver Zippo, which had initials engraved on the front. The writing was too faded for you to read.

“I got tired of Mattheo stealing my lighters,” he explained. “This way I don’t lose track of it.”

The initials weren’t what surprised you. It was the fact that Theo even had a lighter in the first place. Most wizards just used magic to conjure fire. They certainly didn’t go around carrying muggle inventions in their pockets. It almost made you feel like you were back home in London, bumming a cigarette off some drunk after a night out in the pubs.

“Why not use incendio?”

Theo shrugged. “An irritating know-it-all once told me that not everything has to involve magic.”

It was strange to hear him echo your words.

None of it made any sense. Theo would’ve had to venture into a muggle shop to buy that lighter, which was unheard of for a pureblood. Especially not one whose family was part of the now disbanded Sacred Twenty-Eight. The idea of Theo walking around Camden Market to purchase a Zippo was more disorienting than the drugs.

This little discovery did not line up with what you thought you knew about him. You squinted at him in the dim light, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and clouded your senses. Yet one question remained even as you exhaled.

Who the hell are you, Theodore Nott?

Sensing your gaze, he watched with a small smirk as you passed the joint over to him. It seemed impossible for the drugs to be taking effect so soon, but you found yourself mesmerized as Theo took a long drag. Smoke curled around his mouth as he leaned back on his elbows, tipping his head back to gaze up at the moon.

“Why the Astronomy Tower?” you asked after a few moments.

Theo shrugged. “It’s nice up here. Quiet. It helps to get away from the noise.”

“Strange. I’d become convinced that you sometimes speak just to hear the sound of your own voice.”

A set of dimples appeared on Theo’s cheeks. On anyone else, it might’ve been endearing. “Close. There’s also the added bonus of annoying you.”

You didn’t try to stifle your laughter. “Yes, I suppose that sweetens the deal.”

The two of you sat in silence, passing the joint every so often and quietly contemplating the stars. The absence of noise was jarring. You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren't surrounded by noise. Ravenclaws were a chatty bunch. Whether you were exchanging the newest piece of gossip or bragging about academic achievements, there was always this constant exchange of information.

Your brain was hardwired to process input. Without it, you felt sort of like a toddler who had just gotten their comfort blanket ripped away from them.

“Stop fidgeting, Y/N,” Theo commanded with his eyes closed. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

You frowned, picking at your nails. “I don’t think it’s working. Either your drugs are rubbish or my neurosis is canceling it out.”

He opened one eye lazily. His body language was languid, like he was floating through air. You envied him for it. “Just take a deep breath and empty your mind.”

“I know that may be easy for someone whose thoughts are typically vacant, but I’m not wired that way. I can’t just turn off my thoughts.”

Theo sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He stared at you for a second before his eyes lit up with realization. “Of course. I’m so stupid.”

“No argument there.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “I’m trying to get you to relax the Theo way when we should be doing it the Y/N way.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Think of the one place in the castle where you feel most at peace.”

You cocked your head, contemplating. The answer came to you in an instant. “Okay. I’ve got it. What now?”

Theo rose to his feet and offered you his hand. “Lead the way, diavolina. Show me how the chronically neurotic unwinds.”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup @aliensknowmyillusions @cinderellawithashoe @starsval @kalulakunundrum @lucyysthings @siriuslysmoking @purplegirls-posts @unstablereader @lqclercs @whatsupb18 @rikirritated @psychedeliccc @jetblackpayne @clairesjointshurt @ama1a2 @omwtkydttfym @cinderellawithashoe @xeqr @txzii @goldenmagnolias @ilikefictionalmen @xxpeachyxo

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#what i would give to get high in the astronomy tower with this idiot #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut

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gojohater101 · 2 years

Text

Obey Me! Older Brothers Reacting to MC making matching friendship bracelets for them (Pt.1)

A/N: hi! this is my first real post ever so i’m VERY nervous! this is only the first part - the second part is linked below the CW <3 both part’s are VERY VERY long so i really hope nobody minds that hehehe! reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY appreciated!! <33

Pairing: Obey Me! Brothers x GN! MC

CW: Very mildly suggestive content on Satan’s part!

Part 2

LUCIFER

Lucifer isn’t too familiar with friendship bracelets. He hasn’t thought into them that much - he hasn’t had a reason to, so why would he?

Lucifer had just come home from a long day at RAD. He had an abnormal amount of meetings to attend, people to scold, blood vessels to be popped - he certainly wasn’t in a good mood.

His day wasn’t over though. He still had an ungodly amount of paperwork to get through.

He went straight to his room, sat down on his desk chair, and scribbled away on those papers that never seemed to end. He sighed a long sigh, secretly hoping that he would find you knocking on his door eventually - as you always do.

You, however, had a surprise for him.

The day prior, you and Asmo were hanging out in your room. Asmo was ranting to you about Mammon, and you were making bracelets. Bracelets for you and Lucifer. Asmo grew curious about what you were doing as you didn’t mention it at all, so he asked you.

“By the way, MC, what are you doing? Did you just make that bracelet?” He smiled and picked up the one finished bracelet laying beside you on the floor where you guys were sitting.

“Yeah! I’m making an identical one for Luci. Friendship bracelets.”

Asmo blushed and squealed. “Friendship bracelets? How romantic! Why don’t you make me one as well? Pretty please, MC!

Lucifer’s face scrunched up when he heard a knock on his door. He figured it was Mammon who came to ask him for money again, so he was on high alert, ready to scold him. That’s when he heard your voice. “Luci? Can I come in?” You asked, knocking again.

He sighed a sigh of relief. It was you. Thank god.

He so desperately needed to talk to you. He was so close to snapping at everyone and everything - you are the only one who can calm him down. (Although he would never admit that.)

He opened the door, finding you with your two hands behind your back, and with an evident blush on your face.

He immediately smirked. He knew something was up.

He welcomed you in, kissing you on the crown of your head before he asked what you did this time.

“What are you hiding, MC?” He teased as you walked backwards to his bed, sitting down on the edge.

“I’ll show you, just don’t laugh at me, okay?” You blushed. “I can’t promise that, sweetheart.” He stroked your hair and sat down next to you. “Then I won’t show you!” You teased him. “Okay, okay. I won’t laugh, I promise.”

You reluctantly showed him your masterpiece(s): two identical bracelets made of yarn - red, white, and black yarn in a chevron pattern.

“I made us these. I’ve always wanted to make us friendship bracelets but I’ve never had the time to. I had some free time yesterday so I stayed up to make them. Do you like them?”

You didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t friendship bracelets. He let out a laugh and took the bigger one gently from your hands.

“I’m assuming this one is for me, yeah?” He smirked at you, putting it on. He admired it once more before stroking your hair and kissing your lips every so gently.

“Thank you, MC. I will wear it with pride.”

“I will wear mine with pride, too.” You said, before punching him on his arm. “You laughed! You said you wouldn’t!” “I couldn’t help it. You’re too precious, sweetie.”

He does in fact wear it with pride. Bro never EVER takes it off.

When Diavolo asked about it the next day Lucifer just smiled.

“I see you have a new bracelet, Lucifer! It’s pretty stylish! Where’d you get it?”

“Thank you for choosing MC, Lord Diavolo.”

“I see… I get it. You’re welcome.” Diavolo said with the biggest smile on his face.

He will actually get so upset if he sees that you don’t have yours on. So don’t take it off, ever.

Lucifer always catches himself admiring it when he’s doing paperwork - how did he end up with you? What did he do to deserve such an angel?

Wait… is that a blush he has on his face?

MAMMON

Although Mammon wouldn’t say it, he has been wanting to get matching jewelry for you guys. He has never had the guts to, though. Sure, he takes you out all the time, spoils you, ETC, but matching jewelry was a big step he wasn’t sure he was ready to take. It’s such an intimate thing, you know?

Mammon swung his arm around your shoulders as you guys walked out of class together. He was talking about his big win yesterday when he was out gambling with his friends: he had won 100’000 Grimm in a game of poker, but as soon as he came home with bags full of money and his precious Goldie, Lucifer confiscated it all. Sure, he had won, but he needed to “earn money responsibly” according to Lucifer. He was gonna get it back when Mammon had earned 100′000 Grimm through hard work. Which will most likely never happen.

Mammon cursed underneath his breath. “Damn Lucifer, always takin’ my precious money away from me!”

You smiled at him, suddenly blushing hard.

“What’s so funny? And why’re your cheeks all red?”

“I have a surprise for you that might cheer you up! It’s not hard earned money though - don’t get too excited.”

Mammon raised his brow. “A surprise? Where?”

You suddenly pulled out two matching bracelets from your pocket. They looked handmade - yellow and white yarn in a candy stripe.

Yesterday, when Mammon tried to hang out with you, you told him you had bunches of homework to catch up on, which was a lie. You just wanted an excuse to be able to make the bracelets in secret.

“I have so much homework to do, sunshine. I need to get it done before tomorrow. You go and hang out with the others. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

Mammon complained, like a lot, but eventually, he complied and kissed you before leaving your room.

“You better get all that homework done today! I can’t have stupid homework gettin’ in between our time together!” He said before he walked off.

That was when he decided to go out and gamble that night.

You gave the bigger bracelet to him, and you put the smaller one on your wrist. You smiled at your work. You hoped he liked it.

You noticed that Mammon went quiet. You slowly looked up from your wrist, one brow raised. Did he... not want it?

You were shocked to see Mammon blushing the hardest you’ve ever seen him blush.

He was almost on the verge of TEARS. I’m telling you, this man is so deprived of love.

He quickly snapped back to his senses when he heard you calling his name. “M-MC… ya made these?” That was the only thing he could say.

“Yeah, I did yesterday. You know, when I told you I needed to do homework. I had no homework at all, I just wanted to do this for you.”

Mammon was speechless. No one had ever put in this much effort to make him something like this.

“Do you like it?” You smiled.

Mammon looked at you and then looked away quickly, blushing and pouting. “Y’know, I d-don’t appreciate that ya lied to me!” He stuttered.

“I had to, I’m sorry! Now answer the question. Do you like it?” You smiled again.

He was quiet for a second before he put it on and looked at you. “Ya better not do anything like this for anyone else! No one else will appreciate it as I do. You’re my human, got it?!” He ranted before he hugged you as you laughed.

“I take it that you like it?”

“I love it.”

He was kind of shy about wearing it at first, but that quickly passes as he five minutes later flaunts it to all of his brothers and classmates.

He, like Lucifer, never takes it off. He has only ever taken it off once or twice: when he does some kind of physical activity that leaves the bracelet at risk of breaking.

Truth is, he values that bracelet more than he does all the money in the world.

LEVIATHAN

We all know that Levi is a very love-starved guy. He loved the idea of some sort of matching clothing items/jewelry but he never brought it up. ‘Who would want to match with an otaku like me?’ he always thought.

As Levi was sitting in his gaming chair, you were fumbling with the yarn on your lap as you were laying in his bathtub, talking to him about the game he was playing.

He was babbling passionately about the game, telling you all about it. You just couldn’t help but smile as he was explaining what it was about.

“I love it! It’s like, so cool!” He smiled, leaning back in his chair, bringing his hands behind his head.

“I’m happy that you love it. I know how long you’ve waited for it to arrive.” You said as sat upright, looking at him.

He turned his head to see what you were up to. Seeing you smile at him made his heart skip a beat as he swung his head back to the screen - his cheeks red.

“Y-yeah… it did t-take a while.” He smiled to himself. “By the way, MC, what are you even doing in the tub? Come and play with me!” He recollected himself.

“I would love to, but I’m busy.” You smirked as you laid back once more.

“Doing what?” He turned again. It wasn’t visible what you were doing from where he was sitting. He was as curious as ever.

“Just give me two minutes and I’ll show you! Continue playing!” You said, still fumbling with the yarn, making the last few rows.

Levi gave you a nod and turned back to his screen.

You’ve always had “Make you and Levi matching bracelets” written out on your bucket list - you knew he would appreciate it deeply, so it was important to you to get it done.

You never got the time to make them without him being present, so you just decided to tell him to look away when you walked into the room as you carried the yarn in your hands. He did. He wasn’t being persistent in knowing why. Just a simple nod and an ‘Okay.’ were heard.

When you had finally finished, you jumped out of the tub, walked up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder.

When he turned, he saw you - hands hidden behind your back with the biggest grin on your face.

“What’s this about, MC? What did you do?” He looked up at you from his chair. He almost looked concerned - poor baby just hoped you didn’t do anything that would get you in trouble.

That was when you finally revealed what was in your hands. Two identical bracelets - made of orange, royal blue, and white yarn in an arrowhead diamond pattern.

He looked shocked, confused, even. He looked up at you once more.

“M-MC… they’re pretty. Who are they for?”

“For us!”

Leviathan.exe has stopped working.

Boy was SPEECHLESS.

He blushed profusely as he looked away from you, hiding his face in his hands.

“What? Do you not like them?” You asked, worried. Shoot... did you mess up?

“N-No! I mean y-yes! I m-mean no! I l-l-love them!” He turned back to you, scared that he had hurt your feelings.

“B-but are you s-sure? I mean… who w-would want to m-m-match with an otaku like m-me?” He said, his eyes becoming watery.

“Silly Levi. Who wouldn’t want to? Here, give me your wrist. I’ll tie it on for you!” You smiled at him.

He reluctantly gave you his wrist, letting you tie the bracelet on for him. He got goosebumps as he felt your hands fumbling with his.

When you had tied it on his wrist, you put yours on. “Look! We’re finally matching!” You said, putting your wrist next to his.

He smiled up at you, blushing as much as ever. “Th-thank you for this, MC. You’re always s-so good to me… even though I’m j-just a gross otaku.”

You hugged him as you mumbled ‘You’re not gross…’ into his hair.

Leviathan.exe has stopped working 2X.

Levi was super shy about wearing the bracelet initially. Nobody had ever made something like this for him.

Every time he gamed and his eyes fell on the bracelet he would lose focus, to the point where he died in multiple video games because of it.

When Satan commented on your guys’ bracelets being identical Levi couldn’t control himself, and he literally passed out. He didn’t think anyone would notice them, but the fact that people could see the bracelets and know only you and him are matching made his heart skip a beat.

As much as he was shy about it, now, he loves wearing the bracelet. Not only is it a declaration of your guys’ love, but it’s also a good way to see that you are his. It’s almost like marking his territory, and secretly, he loves that.

He doesn’t take it off, even if it distracts him. He doesn’t have the heart to do that. He feels as if it’s disrespectful to you and your hard work if he does, so he just keeps it on.

Even if it makes him die ten times more in video games, every time he glances at that bracelet he kisses it and hugs it close to his body. How did he manage to bag you?

SATAN

Satan doesn’t have the time, nor energy to think about friendship bracelets😭 Sure, he thought the concept of them is cute, but he hasn’t dug deeper into his opinion on them.

You were in the human realm, visiting your family that you missed so dearly.

As a result, all of the brothers, and especially Satan, felt empty.

You and Satan texted each other 24/7, but you figured that texting only wouldn’t make your absence easier on him, since you were gonna be gone for a month. Sure, you were gone for years a while back, but that was one of the hardest things that Satan has ever had to go through - you didn’t want him feeling like he did when you were gone ever again.

So you decided to send him something. Something special.

Satan sat quietly in his room, reading the book that you had gifted him a while back for the third time that day. Gosh, he missed you. He just couldn’t help but almost cry when he thought about you.

The calls, texts, and pictures weren’t enough. He needed to see you, feel you. He put the book down when he realized he had re-read the same sentence five times. The thought of you distracted him from every word he read.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on his door.

Beel walked in with a package in his hands. Beel looked at the package, then at Satan. Handing it to him. “It’s from MC.” Beel said, smiling.

Satan practically jumped up from his bed, grabbing the box from Beel's hands.

“You’re feeling their absence, huh?” Beel’s smile dropped, looking at Satan. “Yeah. I assume you are too?” Satan said.

“It has taken a toll on all of us. Don’t worry, they’re coming back in two weeks. Time goes by fast.” Beel smiled, walking out of Satan’s room, giving him privacy to open the box in peace.

Satan smiled as he sat down on his bed, placing the box in front of him.

He opened the lid carefully, seeing a letter in your handwriting. He picked up the letter, reading the message.

“Dear Satan, How are you doing, lovely? I miss you so much. Two weeks have passed by now, yet it feels like years. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to facetime you as much as you’d like. I’m very busy with my family. They’ve missed me loads. I decided to send you this… to hopefully fill the void. I know it isn’t much, but I hope it helps. Love, MC.”

He smiled as he closed the letter, putting it next to him on his bed.

He looked back into the box. The first thing he saw was a book - one he had never read before. It was called ‘Pride and Prejudice’.

“How many books have you even read at this point?” You laughed as you looked up at Satan who looked down at your head on his lap.

“You seriously expect me to keep track of that?” He smirked.

“No, but still! If you had to guess, how many?”

“Stop asking dumb questions.” He grinned, ruffling your hair.

You both laughed as you wrapped your arms around his stomach.

“Can I ask you a question?” Satan finally asked after a brief moment of silence.

“Is it dumb?” You quickly answered, teasing him. “No!” He smiled. “Go for it.” You said as his hand stroked your hair.

“Have you read ‘Pride and Prejudice’?” He asked.

“Oh, yes, I have! Why? Where have you heard about it?” You asked as your brow raised.

“I read about it on Devilgram. Apparently, it’s really good.” He said.

“It is! Please read it! It’s my favorite romance novel ever! Once you read it your perspective of life will change.” You sat up, looking at him.

“I will. I promise. I just need to get my hands on it.” He kissed your forehead.

That’s where he knew it from…

Satan started getting a little emotional at that moment. You remembered that he wanted to read it.

He noticed a little gap in the pages. Perhaps you left something in there for him?

When he went to said pages, his face lit up.

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Was highlighted in pink. Next to it, he saw a pink yarn bracelet with red hearts on it.

He picked it up gently, inspecting it carefully. As he put it closer to his face, he smelled your perfume on it - which drove him crazy.

He put it away from his face - he wouldn’t be able to control himself otherwise.

He carefully put it on, admiring it. He smiled as he picked up another letter from the bottom of the box.

“Hi again, baby! Yes, I made a matching bracelet for myself, so don’t worry. I hope you like the book. <3”

Satan’s heart skipped a beat. You… you made a matching bracelet for yourself?

He looked at the highlighted sentence, then at the bracelet. You had thought so carefully about this gift that he got even more emotional than he was initially.

As his eyes began to water, he picked up his DDD, clicking on your profile on the messages app.

“My love, you really shouldn’t have.” He wrote. “My love, I wanted to.” You replied within seconds. “The bracelet is beautiful. Since when did you know how to make these?” “Since I’ve been a child. I can make you a cat bracelet if you’d like.” “Please do. Make one for yourself as well, so we can double-match.”

Satan, like Mammon, Lucifer, and Levi, never takes it off. He thinks it’s too pretty, too thoughtful, plus, it smells of your perfume - the perfume he gifted you.

It only takes five minutes of him being out of his room for Beel to notice. “New book? New bracelet?” Beel smiles at Satan in the living room. “They were in the box MC sent. They put their whole heart into that box. They made a matching bracelet for themselves too.” Satan grinned.

“What box?!” Mammon yelled. “Lemme see that!” Mammon lunged at Satan’s arm, wanting to see the bracelet.

Safe to say, things didn’t end up well for Mammon that day.

Satan has never cared so much for an object as he does for that book, and especially that bracelet. He takes care of them with his life.

Satan even puts the book in a special place in his room - a cursed bookshelf, so anyone who dares steal it without his permission will get turned into an earthworm for 48 hours. How thoughtful of him <3

Satan probably read that book around thirty times in the two weeks before you arrived back. It was just as beautiful as he had imagined - just as beautiful as you had described it - just as beautiful as…

Satan closed the book. His mind was wandering off again.

He missed you. A lot.

ps! if this gets enough love, i’ll make a version for the dateables too <3

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me shall we date headcanons #om headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me oneshot #obey me one master to rule them all #om shall we date

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Note

Hello fen! my beloved! it is ominoose ! obligatory ily mwah! also any chance of some non smut romantic blue ? :)

ILY MWAH RIGHT BACK! And of course, it's always simping for Blue hours in my mind.

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi•requestinfo •

Warnings: overuse of italics, extremely soft Blue, references to previous sexy times, kissing, pet names, badly proofread, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1085

________________________________

Blue’s in a foul mood.

You knew that before he’d thrown the whisky glass against his office wall (you weren’t there at the time, but you’d heard about it after). You knew before Sabby’s hushed whispers reached you about the screaming fit he’d had. You knew before you’d seen his goons running around like panicked headless chickens.

Some money had gone missing. A lot of money.

A lot, a lot, a lot of money.

So you’re a little on edge when Gorski tells you to go see him. That he’s requested you. It doesn’t exactly fill you with sunshine and rainbows.

You knock on his office door gently, entering when he calls and shut the door softly behind you.

You’re not sure what you're expecting. Rage. Shouting. Ranting. But it wasn’t this.

He’s standing close, his shoulders slumped, his bottom lip pouting outwards ever so slightly. His eyes look red and glassy, not drunk or high, but on the verge of tears.

“Baby,” he says with a sniffle and holds his arms out to you.

You swallow in surprise and move towards him quickly, reaching your hands out for him. Blue sighs as he holds you in a soft embrace, squeezing needily but being overly careful not to cause any discomfort.

“Blue,” you speak softly, moving back a little to see his face and stroke his cheek. “You okay?” You know he’s not. But you ask anyway.

He shakes his head and presses closer to your hand, kissing your wrist and hugging you tightly before he sniffles into your neck. “Horrible day.” He mumbles against your skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You stroke his back soothingly.

He’s taken off his jacket and tie, you can see them discarded messily on his desk. Not folded neatly like his usual routine.

“It’s okay.” He leans back and smiles, his voice thick and tired. He strokes your cheeks, your neck. His actions are soft, revenant. Not the needy grips and tight squeezes you're used to.

“Come and sit with me?” The question in his voice surprises you. It sounds painfully genuine.

You nod as he leads you to the plush sofa, keeping his hand in yours and rubbing his thumb against your skin.

When you sit he pulls you carefully into his arms, leaning back and encouraging you to lay your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

It’s oddly comfortable being held like this, being so close to him without part of him in you or you in him.

He kisses your temple lightly, still stroking your upper arm lazily. “You’re my most precious thing, you know that?” His voice is so soft, quiet with a slight shake to it.

You stiffen, you can’t help it. The words seem so alien that it’s like you’ve got emotional whiplash.

“What?” There’s a hint of worry in his tone as he moves slightly, loosening his grip so he can look down at you as you glance up at him. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I…” You’re not sure what to say. What you can say. Why are you being so… kind?

He nods, a small frown pinching his forehead. He traces your jawline with his thumb. “I don’t tell you enough.” He pauses. “I don’t tell you at all.” He swallows and sighs. “You’re my- you’re the most precious person.” He trails his fingers softly down the nape of your neck and you shiver.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he intently watches your every movement and miniscule action. The way your breathing changes ever so slightly, how your eyes dilate a little when you look at him.

Carefully he leans up to kiss you, gently urging you to lay on top of him fully as he reclines back. You follow his movements, certain that this will lead to passionately harsh kisses and his tongue in your mouth. Love bites and teeth marks, groans and sighs, and him coming inside you. You naked while he stays clothed, perhaps loosening another few buttons of his shirt, his belt unbuckled and fly undone.

But instead he holds you softly, kissing you gently and sweet. His tongue occasionally traces your bottom lip, slips inside a fraction, but it’s always delicate, thoughtful and sweet. So unlike his usual burning fire that leaves you blistered. This only warms you, wraps you tight in a comforting embrace.

Eventually, though still far too soon for your liking, he pulls back, glazing up at you with large, doe eyes and kiss swollen lips. He smiles lazily. The look is soft on him, making him seem much younger suddenly. Less sharp around the edges.

“I have something for you.” He whispers, pulling a box out of his pocket and opening it to show you.

Inside is a beautiful drop necklace, decorated in delicate dark blue stones arranged in the shape of stars. It is so unlike the normal garish jewellery he makes the dancers wear, large pieces that gleam and catch the stage lights so even clients at the back can see how prettily his girls are decorated.

You touch the necklace lightly.

“They’re sapphires,” he says softly. “And diamonds, and white gold.”

“Blue,” you’re not sure what to say, you’re not sure what he wants.

He takes the necklace out of the box and carefully fastens it around your neck. The chain is loose. It doesn’t cut into your skin. You could easily remove it if you wanted to.

“You look so beautiful.” But he isn’t looking anywhere near the necklace when he speaks, only into your eyes.

You lean into his touch when he strokes your cheek again and he sighs happily. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t place. Contentment perhaps.

“Lay with me a little longer?” He asks gently and you nod instantly.

“Of course.”

He smiles softly as you lay back down against his chest, his arms around you.

It’s only when you settle that there’s a spike of embarrassment runs through you. “I didn’t say thank you Blue, for the necklace, it’s wonderful, I-”

“Shh,” he smiles and kisses the top of your head. “You never have to thank me for anything, ever.” He nuzzles against you for a moment. “You’re my special angel.”

You listen to his heart calming as he hugs you. The gentle beat and warmth of his body.

He whispers something quietly, barely louder than an inhale. Difficult to distinguish but you’re sure you caught the words.

“I love you.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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