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skyward-floored · 8 months

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Whumptober Day 12: “I haven’t slept in days, but who’s counting?” (Insomnia)

Amazing how when I write something short, I can finish it sooner. Who would have guessed...

Read on ao3

Warnings: mentions of injuries

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Wind pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat in the grass, drawing aimlessly in the dirt in front of him. A voice sighed, but Wind ignored it, same as he’d been doing for the past ten minutes.

He didn’t want to hear it.

“Sailor please, be reasonable,” Warriors said with a firm bent to his voice.

“I am being reasonable,” Wind replied, adding sails to his dirt drawing. “You’re the one arguing your head off with a thirteen year-old.”

Warriors crossed his arms.

“Look Sailor, you’ve got to sleep. It’s been nearly three days,” he said, voice more pleading than before, but Wind shook his head, crossing his own arms as he looked up at the captain.

“Time hasn’t slept either, and you’re not yelling at him,” he pointed out, and Warriors massaged the bridge of his nose.

“...he won’t listen to me.”

“Well I’m not listening either,” Wind snarked back, and Warriors let out another heavy sigh.

Wind felt a small prickle of guilt, but he shoved it aside, scrunching up his shoulders. He knew he was being obnoxious, and that Warriors didn’t need one more thing to stress about, but he was being so annoying!

“Look, Wind... not sleeping isn’t going to wake Twilight up any faster,” the captain said more softly, and Wind’s shoulders went up even more. “Please come to bed. One of us can wake you if anything changes.”

Wind closed his eyes. “I’m staying here.”

Warriors shifted where he stood like he wanted to continue, but he merely sighed again. Then his footsteps trailed away, and Wind lowered his shoulders.

As glad as he was to finally have gotten him to leave, Wind couldn’t help but feel guilty as he raised his head and watched Warriors walk off. But he shook it off, and looked back over at where Twilight lay in his bedroll, still and silent.

His hair was pushed out of his face, making room for the bandages that wound around his head and covered the gash Wind knew was right above his ear. The bandages were clean still, but there was a considerable bump swelling where Twilight had been hit, and Wind felt another surge of anger and worry all bundled up together crash over him.

Why did you have to take that hit for me, Twi? Wind thought miserably. You only just recovered, and now...

The cloth that they’d used to wipe the blood off of Twilight’s face caught his eye, and Wind swallowed.

I thought we were past this.

He sighed, and pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to alleviate the heavy feeling in them. He did feel tired, was the thing. Really tired. But having everybody constantly tell him he needed to go to bed was mushing with the frustration he was already feeling, and the stubborn part of him refused to do what they wanted.

They never listen to what I say, why should I listen to them?

Footsteps rustled behind him, and Wind growled, words to chase Warriors away again already on his tongue. But when he turned, he realized it was only Time returning from checking on the others.

“Oh. Hi,” he mumbled, and Time nodded in reply, settling himself on the grass next to Twilight again.

The silence stretched between them, and Wind carefully added a tiny head to his boat drawing, turned to talk to the stick figure riding it.

“How are you doing, sailor?” Time asked finally, and Wind shrugged, still poking at the dirt. “...the Captain’s worried about you.”

“I’m not who he should be worried about,” Wind muttered, and the silence came back.

He finished his tiny dirt portrait, the King of Red Lions smiling back at a tiny stick figure of himself. He hadn’t gotten all the details right, but it wasn’t bad really, and if you knew what you were looking at you could tell what it was for sure. Wind stared at it for a second, then scuffed the dirt away, erasing the image.

Then he looked over at Twilight, and swallowed.

“I just wish he would wake up already,” Wind whispered. “I still can’t believe he did that.”

“He didn’t want you to get hurt,” Time replied quietly. Another sigh escaped him. “He saw that club coming when you did not, and made a decision in the heat of battle.”

“I know! But I’m not the one who nearly died a week ago!” Wind suddenly yelled, feeling frustrated tears start to well in his eyes. “Why couldn’t he have just let me take that hit?! I could have taken it!”

He swiped an angry hand across his eyes, and felt Time’s hand gently rest on his shoulder, warming his back.

“Because it’s in his nature to protect those he cares for,” Time said quietly, “and you in particular, Sailor, remind him of his brother. Whom he once failed to save.”

Wind swallowed, and swiped away the tears trying to escape his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry in front of the Hero of Time. He wasn’t.

“You have a younger sister, yes?” Time said after a moment, and Wind nodded, not trusting his voice. “Then you know what it’s like to care for a younger sibling. Twilight... I believe has unconsciously placed you in that role.”

“Well that’s great,” Wind muttered, though a part of him warmed at the thought. “But how do I get him to stop doing things like... this?”

Time actually smiled, just a little. “You can’t.”

“What?!”

Time chuckled, then met Wind’s eyes. “You can’t make him do anything, Sailor. He’s stubborn as a mule. And truth be told, he would have jumped in front of that club if it had been any one of us— you or me, or our Veteran, or even the Captain.”

“So... so it wasn’t because he thinks I can’t handle myself?” Wind asked confusedly.

“...I believe he just has trouble separating you from his brother in his mind,” Time replied, smile fading as he looked back at Twilight again. “I can’t say for sure, of course. But his actions seem to point to it.”

He looked down at Wind again, and squeezed his shoulder.

“I understand it is frustrating to be underestimated. But try to give Twilight some grace. He only wants to keep you safe, just like you would do for your sister. It’s in his nature to protect.”

“I don’t need protecting though,” Wind said quietly, and Time hummed, looking up at the sky.

“Indeed. But Twilight protects regardless of ability. He does it out of love.”

Wind stared at Time for a moment, then looked over at Twilight again, watching his chest go up and down, his eyes remaining closed.

“...I wish he would save some of that love for himself,” Wind murmured.

Time sighed. “As do I.”

They both stayed silent as they watched Twilight breathe, and Wind blinked heavily, his eyes drooping against his will. Time gently steered him so he was resting against his shoulder, and Wind let him, not bothering to fight against it.

“...I’m not tired,” he murmured, biting back a yawn, and Time put an arm around him.

“Whether or not that’s true, you may as well be comfortable while we wait,” Time replied softly.

Wind squinted at him suspiciously, but he didn’t bother to muster up the energy to argue. Time’s shoulder was pretty comfortable after all... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he took a short nap.

He looked back at Twilight, still pale, still unmoving, and felt the lump come back in his throat.

Please wake up, Twilight. Don’t scare us again.

He rested his head on Time’s arm, closing his eyes against the tears that were trying to come back, and let out a shaky sigh.

“Wake me up if anything changes,” Wind whispered, and he felt Time nod, the older hero holding him a little tighter.

“You’ll be the first to know.”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu wind #lu time #and wars and twi but they don’t do too much #linked universe fanfic #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #day 12 #insomnia #I haven’t slept in days but who’s counting?#writing from the floor #all the links are self sacrificing but I think twi is one of the worst #and when he looks at Wind and sees Colin... well #he does dumb things #despite having just recovered from nearly dying from Dink but when did a pesky little mortal injury ever stop him?

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shadow4-1 · 2 months

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Just thinking about the "there's only one bed" trope with Ghost.

Like, you're traveling as an undercover duo and it's raining and you've been hopping borders by car for days without a break. So you stop at some rinky-dink bed n' breakfast. You're both just so goddamn tired that neither one of you cares as you strip and roll into the queen sized bed together.

At first you feel sticky with fatigue and the sweat still drying in your skin from the stuffy car. But after a few minutes you realize Ghost didn't turn the heater on, so both of you get chilly 'neath the duvet. Despite it though, you feel safe. It takes a little bit for you to get warm, your body is stiff but every second you lay there under the blanket you feel your muscles slowly unwinding.

You wake up the next morning clear headed and completely embarrassed to be pressed up against his bare chest. His heartbeat is strong and unrelenting. You try to pretend like you're not hearing it, but he shifts.

A sliver of sunlight peeks in through the tiniest gap in the drapes. You admire the way the light turns Ghost's half lidded eyelashes a bright white. His expression is unreadable, but somehow you know it's nothing but fondness.

#cod imagines #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you and miguel have different definitions of the same word. he finally gives in to temptation —featuring a cranky but lovesick miguel and a flirty, head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This has to be your favourite song in the whole world.

You sit in the hall beside the entrance to Miguel's office (this week, you're thinking you might call it The Bedroom, on account of all the magic happening inside), headphones on, a bottle of lemonade beside you.

Today has the makings of a great day. You're at the Spider Society headquarters and not at home, for starters, and one of the Peter Parkers you'd made friends with in the med-wing saw you this morning and recognised you, which is brilliant because he looked super similar to every other Peter Parker you've met. He offered to help you fix your rinky-dink headphones, and now they're working again and loud enough to cover the sound of Spider Chatter, even with your enhanced senses.

What's more, Miguel has finally emerged from his dormitory, and he's walking toward you looking confused. That's a step up from unhappy.

He asks you something.

"What? I can't hear you."

He says something else. You shake your head, music too loud to catch even a hint of what he's saying, and Miguel eventually crouches down to push your headphones around your neck. He's surprisingly gentle.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Waiting for you, what did you think I was doing?"

"Why are you sitting on the ground?" He gestures backward to a red-lit control panel. "Chair right there."

"I think that's someone's desk."

"It's really not."

Miguel stands up and doesn't hesitate to grab your arms and help you up too. It means more to you than it should, because it's not necessary and a few months ago he wouldn't have bothered. Which isn't to imply that Miguel is a mean guy, Lyla says he used to be a loser (code for sweetheart), and you get flashes of it every now and then in chivalry and kind smiles.

He's not mean, he's cranky.

"Don't sit on the floor," he says. "Just– just go inside if I'm not here."

"Well, The Bedroom doesn't come when I call."

Miguel's lips part in confusion for a second. Lyla appears at his shoulder, and says, "She can't get the platform to come down without you, genius."

"Put her name on the command list," Miguel says.

Your eyes widen. Lyla flashes to his other side, closer to you, and smiles playfully. "Done."

"Stop sitting on the floor," Miguel says, turning around. He walks a few steps and pauses when he realises you're not following. "Are you coming with me?"

You jog to catch up with him. Music plays against your collar, a slinking, indie sound that makes Miguel wrinkle his nose. You turn it up a little bit and smile when he glares at you.

You enter the atrium that houses The Bedroom. Miguel hops up onto the platform because he's too tall to see sense while you struggle, but you're pleased when he takes your hand and pulls you up properly. All these familiar touches today, anyone might think Miguel liked you.

He definitely does.

You sit down in the spinning chair near what you've decided is your desk but certainly isn't, again pleased beyond words when you find your sketchbook from last time still there, cleaned away carefully, pencils in a pot and a brand new pencil sharpener by the side of it. It matches your spider suit. You look over your shoulder, your face lit up with thanks, and Miguel swiftly looks away from you.

"It's electric. Tell me when the battery's dead, I'll charge it."

"Thank you," you say, flipping your sketchbook open to the last entry.

You aren't Picasso, but most members of the Spider Society are somewhat artistically inclined, considering the suit-making rite of passage they must all endure —if you don't know how to sew before you start, you will by the end.

Or like Miguel, you could cheat and make the suit out of nanotechnology.

You haven't really been designing any suits lately. Spidering is tiring, you need to relax, and your reluctant friends are the easiest subjects, though Miguel's face is painstakingly difficult to get right. He's very angular, high cheekbones with that divot that needs kissing stat, and his nose… He's really pretty, but you almost wish he wasn't so your sketches of him held a better likeness.

He's the only one of the regular crew that stands still long enough to be drawn. Jessica doesn't like you (or maybe she does, it's hard to tell, but she hasn't forgiven you for asking if her baby was like a maraca bead when she fights) so she doesn't let you draw her. Lyla will stand very still if you request it, but after a few portraits she got bored and started changing her hair or glasses, and after a few more she gave up. Margo is hard to focus on because her blue light makes everything else seem super orange, though she does stand in one place usually. She takes up a lot of pages, but it's Miguel you've drawn most of all.

You go around the Spider Society sometimes asking people if they'll sit for you, but again your skills aren't impressive, so it's awkward when they want to see how you've done. There are drawings of all kinds of Spiders, including yourself, between Miguel, and Miguel, and Miguel.

His back, the side of his face, his hands ungloved. His pointy bottom teeth mid fight. The naked stretch of his arm and his Rapture injector positioned over it. He might not appreciate that one. You rip it out and toss it in the waste paper basket under your desk, where it incinerates, paper smoke curling up toward the extractor fan on the atrium ceiling.

"What are you doing?" he asks without looking at you, his gaze on one of his marigold coloured monitors.

"Drawing." You're not drawing so much as sitting there with a coloured pencil in hand, trying to think of conversation starters. "What are you upto?"

"According to the program, there are no Canon events today at risk of disruption," Lyla chimes in, "so Miguel's doing chores."

"What, not one bad thing is gonna happen today?" you ask.

"Nothing we can predict," Miguel says.

You swap your pencil for your drink, unscrewing the lid of your lemonade to sip at it leisurely. Today is your favourite kind of day. No fighting, lots of time with Miguel, and music to go with it. You're so happy you could melt.

Miguel turns to you and sees your stickying smile.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just happy to be here with you," you say.

"Don't say stuff like that," he says, turning back to his screen.

"Scared you'll actually experience sincerity?" Lyla asks.

"Lyla," he warns, as though Lyla might be afraid of any consequence he had the power to inflict.

"Sorry," you say, not very sorry, but not wanting him to be uncomfortable, "it's just nice, being friends with you."

"We aren't friends."

You're not quick to take offence with Miguel. He can be cruel. He's hurting, he's unhappy, he has a lot on his plate. Oftentimes he's so tense with apprehension his neck locks up and you hear it clicking as he turns one way or another, or if he isn't apprehensive he's disappointed, furious, upset. You give him the benefit of the doubt because you know him, but you don't know the tone of voice he uses now. It's like he's offended at the insinuation. Like he would never, ever be friends with you.

You put your lemonade on the desk and don't know what to do. His insipid floating platform is too high now to leave without causing a scene. Maybe when he's busy you can web down and go home. All you know is that you desperately don't want to be near him. But home sucks, and the dormitories are worse. You're stuck.

"You can be so mean," you say softly, turning back to your sketchbook and pencils.

You're thinking you might draw him with a bunch of bee stings, or find a previous sketch and cross his eyes out.

"What?" he asks.

Your hackles rise. "You're mean. Don't talk to me."

"What?" Miguel stands very still. "Y/N, what?"

"What do you mean, what? I said something nice and you said something cruel. I get it, okay, we aren't friends, so don't talk to me."

"I've upset you."

You stare at your blank page. "It doesn't matter."

"No, I've said the wrong thing."

"Miguel, don't bother. What else could you mean by that?" You laugh with little humour. Crestfallen doesn't begin to describe how you feel. "I'll be quiet. I just don't want to be at home."

"What's wrong with home?"

"Is there ever much right?"

"Did something happen?"

"We aren't friends, so why ask me?"

You bite the inside of your lip as Miguel approaches, his footfall hushed over the lightweight metal flooring. You turn to him in your chair, head tilted back to meet his eyes, arms crossed over your stomach defensively.

"That's not what I meant when I said that." He speaks slowly, firmly, to avoid any misunderstanding. "What's wrong with home, mi cielo?"

You tap his ankle with your shoe, looking away from his gaze. You don't want to tell him, and if he keeps looking at you like that, you will.

"¿Qué pasó?" He bends at the waist slightly, bringing his face closer to yours, dark hair falling into his eyes.

"I don't know what that means," you murmur.

"Did something happen?" he asks.

"Nothing happened, it's just– it's lonely there," you say, squirming under the weight of his gaze, his sudden caring. "What's with you? One minute you're not my friend, the next you're worrying about me? You're giving me whiplash."

He stands up, and his face falls back into a more typical emotionlessness. He's clearly feeling something, but he's wiping the slate clean.

"When I said we aren't friends, it didn't mean–" He grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were staying in the women's dormitory?" he asks, frustrated.

"I am, but I'm useless, and they don't really respect me because I'm–"

"Eccentric?"

"–not as experienced," you finish, eyes flaring.

"Oh, my god," Lyla says, appearing in front of him to make sure he sees her delight at his slip up.

Miguel bats her hologram with an annoyed grunt. She disappears again, her tinkling laughter cut short.

"It's a good thing," Miguel says quickly.

You stand up. "It's not the point."

"You should feel at home in the dormitory, and if you don't, I'll find you somewhere else to stay here, you don't have to be in there if you don't feel welcome."

"Miguel, you're sounding awfully friendly right now."

"We aren't friends," he says again, stepping closer to you. "What's so hard to understand about that?"

"But we spend time together. We have fun. You like me, Miguel, you do, you tell me jokes sometimes, you make me things for me. You… you do like me, right?"

"You know that I do," he says, his eyebrows pinching together.

"You like me, like, you want me," you say, just to make sure.

His fist clenches hard enough to make an audible sound. Miguel's voice is fraught, and through barely parted lips, "If you know that, what's the problem?"

You don't know. Maybe it was silly to worry about how he sees you, because you do know that Miguel likes you, but you also know he hadn't wanted to like you. His attraction to you was reluctant, you're not stupid enough to miss that, and it was important to you that whatever tension sexual or otherwise lingering between you had bloomed into mutual affection.

"I want us to be friends, too," you say.

"I thought we were more than that."

It's such a quiet admission. He isn't afraid to say it, and he isn't reluctant like you feared.

"Miguel," you say. "I want you to like me. I know I can be off-putting, I know I tease too much, but I don't want you to like me despite those things, I just want you to like me. So, when you say we aren't friends…"

"I've never heard you say three serious sentences in a row," Miguel says, reaching out for your hand. He pulls you toward him slowly, his fingertips gliding up the length of your arm. "Then again, it's the same nonsense as usual."

"Miguel–"

"Of course I like you. How else do you need me to say it? I like you and I want to kiss you, I like you and I like that you're irregular. You want us to be friends? Then let's be friends." Miguel's hand closes around your bicep. His thumb presses against soft fat and muscle alike. "But not just friends."

Relieved, you sigh. "So you're saying we really weren't friends?"

Miguel leans down until his face is the only thing you can see. His smooth skin, his dark eyes, their darker flush of too-long lashes; it's unfair how pretty his eyelashes are, how they curl, how they bunch in triangles you have to fight to resist touching. His eyebrows so often slightly set, giving him an unhappy expression even now.

He brings the hand that isn't clasped at your bicep to the hill of your waist. It's hot as a brand, and it pulls you closer, your neck craning with every inch he steals from between you.

"We can be friends," he says.

His fingers twitch against your arm, and his hand begins to climb. It's not as slow as it feels, conquering the curve of your shoulder, your neck. His hand is big, his thumb pressing into the column of your throat gently.

He looks at you for a measured lapse of time, and you know, finally, that you're on the same page.

"What you said before, 'mi cielo?'" You hold his elbow. "What does that mean?"

"My sky," he says. "My… my heavens. It's saccharine. It's something teenagers say, when they're," —his voice dips, the hand at your waist squeezing tight like you might slip through his hold— "infatuated."

"Just teenagers say that?" you ask.

"No," he allows. "I always thought it was too much."

"But you–"

"Yeah. I did."

The first kiss is surprisingly sweet. On the tail end of words, Miguel presses his lips half-parted to yours, slowly, softly, like the brush of a downy feather. He lingers, and it's your own movement that spurs him on —you shudder up into his lips and he loses control.

The sound he makes is a shock. You try to pull back to check he isn't hurting, and he lets you until he realises why it is you're pulling away. "It's fine, it's okay," he says quickly.

Assuaged of your concern, he pulls you back in and he kisses you, he kisses you, his hand squeezing too tight and his nose bridge sliding up against yours from the force of it all. Your chest feels like a pit and you need Miguel closer if you're ever going to fill it, your hands snapping up to his face like magnets. There's no need to pull him down to you, he's already wading in, not wading —crashing, kissing you so hard your lips burn.

You make a sound that says, hopefully, This is really fun, but don't give me a bruise.

His tongue is a heat at the seam of your lips. Your weight bends, your chest leaning into his front. He doesn't hesitate to ease his hand behind your back and prop you up against him as things get heady, and the only thing you can feel is him.

All those times he almost kissed you, all those times he couldn't cross the gap. He poked and prodded and provoked you into getting into his space and each time you called his bluff. You wanted Miguel to give in, and now he has, it's the meltiest, most stickying warmth you've ever felt.

Voices sound far away, off the platform and down the hall. Jessica and someone else, approaching fast.

Something sharp snags your bottom lip as Miguel pulls away. You press your finger to your sore lip. When you pull it away, blood spots your skin.

Miguel takes your face into his hand and angles your face to a glowing screen carefully, in total juxtaposition of the grip he'd had on your waist.

"Sorry," he mumbles, the tip of his fangs catching the light. His adrenaline must be high.

"Excited?" you ask him breathily.

He wipes your lip with his thumb. The other hand pet's your cheek. You feel suddenly and smotheringly adored, all his attention on your pinprick wound.

"Everything okay up there?" Jessica calls.

Miguel drops your face like he's remembered himself. You turn to your newfound company, Jessica Drew and an unhappy looking Gwen Stacy. This high up, there's no way they can see the state of either of you, mussed hair and Miguel's blushy cheeks, but they'll see you eventually. And Miguel might like you, might want you, might be your more-than-friend, but he's a stickler for appearances, and being found kissing your subordinate dizzy when you're supposed to be working would mortify him.

"I cut my lip on a lemonade bottle," you call cheerily, waving at grumpy Gwen. Her lips perk up. "Miguel's trying to tell me it's my fault. Is lemonade usually sharp?"

His hand flattens subtly at the small of your pack.

"Thanks," he murmurs.

"Welcome, handsome. Is it bad?" you ask, turning back to hip with your lip pouted.

His eyes visibly soften at the sight of you. "Not that bad."

"Alright, good. You'll have to let the platform down, I need to go."

"What? Where are you going?" he asks.

"If we're friends now," you say, lilting, performing a half spin in front of him just to watch his eyes narrow, "I'm going to have to make us bracelets. Friendship bracelets." He clearly doesn't like the idea of being friends still, so you amend with a softer tone, "Friends and whatever that was. Come on, you'll love it. I'll make it match your suit."

He rubs the space between his eyebrows.

"Will you bring your stuff here?" he asks, the platform beginning to lower under your feet.

"Duh. I need to take lots of measurements. I'll be in your hair all day, you'll hate it."

He nods like he agrees. "I'll hate it," he says, deadpan. When he's sure Jessica and Gwen aren't looking, he gives you a smile you've never seen before.

You and I have a secret, it says.

Lyla appears by your shoulder to instantly tell him otherwise. It goes without saying that she's mildly disgusted and extremely smug. "Don't match it to his suit, Y/N. Mr. Heartthrob here needs something soft. How about some baby pinks, hm?"

Miguel sighs, but you barely hear him over your excited gasp. "Yes! Pink and white, for sure, that would be so nice."

"Great," Miguel says. "Perfect. Thanks for that, Lyla."

"You're so welcome!"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D please reblog if you have the time ♡

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corroded-hellfire · 1 month

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Could I get a blurb or something from the AYW family when eddie and reader find out that she is infact pregnant and he's so happy and he can't wait to see her all pregnant with bigger breasts etc. And he loves to help her in anyway he can. And he's so excited about her belly when they do have sex. All the Fluffy stuff but a bit of smut to. Hehe. Thanks!

Eddie is a lovesick puppy all the time, but his pregnant wife? Oh boy. So thankful and happy to write this with my beloved @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap to up), pregnant!reader, breeding kink or does this move to pregnancy kink? We all know this Eddie has breeding kink BAD

Words: 2.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie’s been on cloud nine from the moment you even suspected you might be pregnant. Now with it confirmed, everyone knowing, and steps rolling along to get things ready for the baby, you’re pretty sure your husband physically can’t get any happier. You’re proved wrong the moment he notices your breasts getting a little larger, though. Then the very beginnings of your baby bump appeared, and Eddie’s hand didn’t leave your stomach for what felt like a week.

Your husband has always been a gentleman, but he’s kicked it up a notch now that your second trimester has started. He’d always carry things for you, but now he makes the extra effort to go grocery shopping so you don’t have to reach for things on the high shelf or lift the full bags from the cart into the trunk of your car. And he isn’t the only one helping out.

The boys were, for the most part, good about doing their chores. Once in a while you’d have to get on one of them about picking their clothes up off the floor or cleaning up after themselves in the kitchen, but it was never anything major. But as twelve and nine-year-olds, they weren’t exactly known to go the extra mile, either. So, the day you first came home to them working as a team to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, you almost thought you walked into the wrong house. You hadn’t intended to stand there and watch them as they did the task—they didn’t need a supervisor. But the pure shock kept you rooted in place as you watched Luke toss a dryer sheet in and Ryan reach up to press the correct buttons on the dryer’s control panel.

“Eddie, the boys did laundry,” you had told him when he came home from work, your wide eyes amusing to the man.

“I figured it was about time they learn,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Helps you out around the house, too.”

“That was your real motive,” you had said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“So, sue me.” Eddie shrugged and stepped around you to get a bottle of water.

The men of the house have been at this for a few weeks now and it’s honestly nice to have some of your usual duties lifted from your shoulders. Are things done perfectly? No. But they weren’t when you did them, either. At least when Luke got Ryan’s clothes and Ryan got Luke’s this time, they could blame themselves instead of you.

The boys have even been changing their own sheets and putting the clean ones on. Luke’s been so proud of himself that you don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s been putting the bottom sheet on inside out this entire time.

The domestic bliss of it all fills you with a soothing warmth, like you’re being wrapped in the softest downy blanket. Sometimes you’re afraid this is all a dream and you’re going to wake up in your apartment back in college, late for some class before you have to go pick up the boys from school so you can babysit them. When that happens, you usually walk over to the large fake crystal bowl on the counter where you keep your keys and pull out your set. On your keychain there’s a small, laminated Shrinky Dink that says “Luke” that was given to you the first Mother’s Day that you were with Eddie. The first year they saw you as a mother figure more than a babysitter.

You run the pad of your index finger along the rough plastic edge of the Shrinky Dink and the tiny little pricks of pain are another reminder that you’re not dreaming.

Getting ready for bed that night, you tighten the belt of your lavender bath robe before grabbing a cloth to wash your face. This bathroom never used to seem as cold as it has to you these past few months. Pregnancy does weird things to your body.

“Oh!” Eddie says as he steps into the bathroom. He snaps his fingers and spins around to head back into the bedroom. A moment later he comes back with a plastic drugstore bag in his hands. “I got this for you today. I know you said your gums are being more sensitive now, so I thought this might help.”

He offers you a plastic and cardboard package, a jade green toothbrush inside, and the words “Soft-Bristled Brush!” emphasized on the front. The hormones well up in you but you force them back down, refusing to cry over a toothbrush.

“Thank you, baby,” you say. “Now I can throw out that mean, old medium strength one.”

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your head as he passes by to get to the shower.

As you scour your dresser drawers for pajamas, lacy material grazes your fingertips—maternity lingerie, courtesy of Jess, who swore Eddie would go absolutely feral over it.

Her exact words were actually “he’ll cream his jeans,” but that was neither here nor there.

Your eyes flit back to the bathroom where your husband is currently bathing. Your husband—the man you love and adore, who doted on you before you got pregnant and is the epitome of devotion now that you’re actually carrying his child. The alleviation of chores, the special toothbrush…maybe he deserves a little reward.

As quickly as you can—which isn’t all that fast, considering your new center of gravity, you put on the babydoll slip, adjusting it so the slit down the middle showcases your bump. The matching set of panties almost feels like a waste, considering how swiftly Eddie will tear them off, but you step into them anyway and complete the look.

There’s a clattering in the bathroom, jolting your already buzzing nerves. You know better than to ask what’s going on; over the years, you’ve found that many questions are best left unanswered.

“Babe, have you seen my—holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie’s eyes widen when he takes in the sight of you. The towel wrapped around his waist tents where his erection begins to burgeon.

“Seen your what?” You bat your eyelashes, exaggerating your innocence, as you caress your bump.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.” His hands are drawn to your sides, thumbs brushing over the swell of your stomach. “What’s all this for?”

“Just wanted to thank you for being such an amazing husband, even when I’m tired or moody or—”

“Baby,” Eddie cuts in, “all I’ve done is get you a new toothbrush and delegate chores to the boys. I should be thanking you for having my baby…and looking so damn good doing it.”

With that, he gets on his knees, grabs your thighs until his fingertips sink into your plush skin, and kisses the bump.

“You’re perfect.”

He moves forward on his knees, gently guiding you backwards until the back of your thighs hit the soft cotton sheets of your mattress. Large hands follow your hips onto the bed and quickly move down your legs to slip your panties off.

“Eds?”

“Hmm?”

“I, um,” you pause, feeling insecurity creep up in you despite your arousal, “haven’t been able to shave as well as I used to…”

Eddie pays your words no mind, instead just uses his pointer and middle fingers to part your lips and lick a stripe up your center.

“‘S not gonna stop me.” His voice is gravelly, deep, and it sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

He takes your clit between his lips, tongue gently flicking over the bud. Giving it a little suck, he drops his unoccupied hand to your thigh and squeezes.

You can’t help the way your hips move, as though of their own accord, grinding your core against his face. Eddie notices it, too, pulling away briefly to tease you.

“Needy little thing tonight, hm?” His smirk glistens with your arousal.

You’re in no position to argue; you simply nod and thread your fingers through his curls in a silent plea for him to resume licking at you.

Eddie takes the hint, his tongue eagerly finding your hole and fucking it wildly.

“Eddie, shit, holy fucking shit!” You find your voice in time for your orgasm to crash over you, crying out your husband’s name as he brings you that beautiful release.

When he stands up, panting, you can see just how hard he is. The towel must have slipped off while his face was buried between your legs, and he’s now stark naked in front of you.

“Tried to look at you while I ate your pussy, but, uh…” his cheeks tinge red, “couldn’t quite see you over this.” He cradles your bump, pressing his erection into your thigh. The pre-cum that’s beaded at the tip sticks to your leg, a reminder of what you do to him.

You flop back on the mattress, breathing heavily with a lazy smile on your face.

Eddie crawls up over your body, chuckling when he catches your euphoric expression.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” you hum, eyes drifting shut.

Eddie parts the sheer panels of the baby doll top so your emerging bump is on full display, pressing kisses in the valley between your breasts and working downward.

He stops when he reaches your stomach. “Wish I could just keep you pregnant. Fuck, you look amazing like this.”

“So do it,” you mumble lazily.

“Don’t tempt me,” Eddie says, looking up at you with another smirk.

He pauses, delaying removing his hands from your belly but craving being inside you.

“Ride me, baby?”

You giggle. “Gonna need some help.”

Eddie nods, standing up and kissing you with his hands on your cheeks. “Anything. Anything for you. Christ, you’re a goddess.”

He helps you on top, his hands on your hips and holding your bump. Without further hesitation, he lines himself up and you sink onto his cock, letting yourself be filled entirely.

“F-Feels so good.”

Eddie grunts. “That’s because this pussy belongs to me. You belong to me.”

You just moan in response, so he grips your hips tighter and growls, “say it.”

“I belong to you,” you whimper, tightening around him as he thrusts up into you. “I’ll do anything for you, Eddie.”

After a few minutes, a newly-familiar ache creeps into your chest. Though you try to hide your wince, Eddie is all-too aware of your every move.

“What’s wrong?” He stops thrusting, grabbing your wrists and pulling your attention to him.

You gently maneuver out of his grasp and cup your breasts. “They’re just really sore from the, um, bouncing.” This never happened before pregnancy, but their extra sensitivity has you feeling every twinge of discomfort.

Eddie pouts, not from disappointment, but from the realization that you’re in some pain.

“C’mere, sweetheart.”

He withdraws, earning a whimper from you before he gently guides you onto your back and places a pillow beneath your lower back.

“I’ll take it a little slower, yeah?”

You nod, your warmth enveloping him once again. He thrusts languidly, holding back so he doesn’t hurt you, and his carefulness has you connecting your lips to his.

“I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. “I love you so much, Eddie.”

“I love you, too.”

His words, his movements, and your earlier orgasm are a perfect combination. You come undone, clenching around his cock and digging your nails into his back.

“There you go,” Eddie coos, kissing just below your ear. “Baby, can I go a little faster? Is that okay?”

He rarely begs you; normally, you’re the one pleading with him to let you come.

“S’okay, Eds.” You smile and he returns it, bracing his elbows on either side of your head.

He slams into you, burying himself to the hilt and tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck—feels s’good—gonna come.” The words barely leave his mouth before he’s spilling into you, filling you with his seed. His body against yours and his release coating your walls has you falling into a foggy haze—the closeness, the intimacy, the safety you feel with Eddie is stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s only grown fiercer since carrying his baby.

The moment he pulls out of you and starts to move from hovering over your body, you tug him down next to you. Eddie laughs as you practically wrap him up in a death grip as he bounces against the pillows.

“Well, this is one way to cuddle,” he says.

“Got overexcited,” you say as you loosen your grip on him.

He doesn’t go too far though, immediately moving so that you can tuck into his side. As you move to slide closer, there’s a sharp intake of breath and your right hand instinctively goes to hold your bump.

“Baby?” Eddie asks, sitting up in concern, careful not to jostle your body. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head as you scoot closer to him again. The sharp jab of pain vanished as quickly as it was sprung on you. A subtle aftershock rolls through you, but it’s barely even detectable.

“Just some mild contractions. Doctor said they can happen after sex sometimes. They’re not, like, baby contractions,” you explain.

Eddie visibly relaxes, shoulders dropping, and lays back against the pillows with you. “So, my excellent fucking skills didn’t send you into super early labor?”

A snort of laughter bursts out of you as you lay your head down on Eddie’s warm, solid chest.

“Sorry, Eds. Baby’s gotta stay put till she’s fully cooked.”

Your husband gives you a fake groan but smiles the whole time, kissing you tenderly.

“All right,” he says. “But I heard from someone who shall not be named—”

“Steve?”

“Who shall not be named, that sex can help induce labor. In case you need some assistance in a few months.”

You smirk. “Let me know if anyone’s offering. There’s that cute guy at the grocery store—”

Eddie tackles you, taking care not to hurt the bump, pressing sloppy, silly kisses to your cheek and neck. You squeal with laughter and try to push him off of you.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

Eddie pulls back and smiles down at you. “You better be. Because this,” he gestures to your lingerie-clad pregnant body, “is mine and only mine.”

“Well, this,” you say, gesturing to your own body, “has to pee.”

Eddie pouts as you slide off the bed, eyes not leaving your frame for a moment.

“But we were gonna cuddle,” he whines.

You walk into the bathroom as you shrug your shoulders.

“Take it up with your daughter,” you say before closing the door.

With a dramatic sigh, Eddie rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. His thoughts linger on your last sentence and the smile that was already on his face grows until it becomes a beaming grin.

“Holy shit,” he whispers to himself. “I’m going to have a daughter.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

608 notes · View notes

httpsuniverse · 10 months

Text

babe [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — lando norris x reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — angst, some hate comments . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ another one from the drafts! enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

f1wags

16,920 likes

f1wags y/n’s ig story update today! it seems as though lando norris is officially off the market as the 2020 season comes to an end, congratulations to the happy couple! 🥳❤️

view all 1,839 comments

user what omg

user from childhood bestie to fiancée 🥹 dang when’s it my turn!!!

user i just woke up wtf !!! congratulations mum and dad landonorris yourusername

december 15, 2020

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername how can i ever say no to that face 😟 you’re making our childhood dream come true 💘

view all 599 comments

user lando lmao 👉🏻🫦👈🏻

f1 congratulations, y/n and lando!

mclaren congratulations 🫡💒

yourbffsig omg bestie!! 😻 congrats, i love you both!!

yourusername you’re coming back home for our wedding 😤 i’m not taking no for an answer

yourbffsig as if i’m gonna say no!! 😤

december 16, 2020

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others

landonorris promoted from boyfriend to fiancé! you can never get rid of me now, y/n y/l/n 😜 i love you!

view all 2,842 comments

maxfewtrell remember when you told me you were determined to make her a norris?

yourusername ugh hes so obsessed w me 🙄

maxfewtrell yeah it’s annoying 🤢

landonorris i hate you both, give me back the ring yourusername i unpropose to you

yourusername 😽😽

december 16, 2020

landonorris and yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, yourbffsig and 1,392,942 others

landonorris two years ago, we exchanged our vows on valentine’s 💗 happy valentine’s and 2nd anniversary, my hot, beautiful wife. to more adventures and years to us 🥂 i love you.

view all 21,839 comments

yourusername happy anniversary to us, my love!!

landonorris i’m still obsessed with you

yourusername when are you not baby 🤭

yourbffsig ugh u two disgust me but stay in love ig

user i still can’t believe lando is really off the market for two years now 😔

yourmomsig stay in love, you two!! 🤍

user will we be expecting baby norris this year? if no, why not 😭

yourusername no plans for baby norris yet! me and lando are children ourselves 😂

— ❤️ by landonorris

user dinks, my fav dinks.

user can u adopt me instead

february 14, 2023

f1wags

10,729 likes

f1wags we haven’t had a glimpse of y/n in the paddock the past few races, so here’s some throwback pictures with husband, lando norris! 🤍

view all 189 comments

user i miss her :(

user so i’m not going CRAZY for noticing that she hasn’t been to any races this season...

user maybe she’s pregnant or something

user nahh impossible, y/n herself said that they don’t have any plans for baby norris yet.

user right.. that could only be the plausible reason why she’s not attending races 🙄

user maybe she’s just busy with work, she has a career herself

user no bc think about it.. it’s already round 10 and we haven’t seen her since bahrain, not even during testing 💀

user well, silverstone’s up next. let’s just hope she’s there for lando’s home race

user we can just hope

july 02, 2023

f1gossip

5,930 likes

f1gossip y/n’s now deleted ig story today. wonder what’s happening between the young couple? 🤔

view all 193 comments

user NO WHAT

user I JUST WOEK UP WHAT IS THIS DRAMA

user MAYBE ITS JUST NOTHING PLS MAYBE SHES JIST LISTENING TO MUSIC I MEAN IT’S TAYLOR !!!! WJO DOESN’T LISTEN TO TAYLOR

user ...me... i don’t listen to taylor 😬

user what rhe heck u have to listen NOW

user miss maam r u ok yourusername

user not on silverstone weekend 😭

july 07, 2023

yourusername

el nido, palawan

liked by yourbffsig, yourmomsig and others

yourusername let the sea set you free

view all 749 comments

user miss maam we miss u around the paddock PLS COME BACK

user omg she got a tattoo 🥹 it looks so pretty

yourbffsig i hope you enjoyed your stay with me 🥺

yourusername duh, ofc!! was the most fun month of my life 💗 see you in bali ;)

yourbffsig OMG YES see you in a week, enjoy your remaining days in el nido 😽 love you and take care!!

yourmomsig my beautiful daughter, i love you whatever happens 🤍 glas you’re enjoying philippines x

yourusername aaaa love and miss you mum 🥹 be back soon <3

yoursistersig what about me 😒

yourusername stfu you’re literally coming to bali with me

yoursistersig oh yea lol

user the comments from y/n’s friends and family are scaring me (kinda)

user have u noticed that lando hasn’t commented anything or even leave a like ... i miss his obsessed hubby comments

user plus her last ig story 😓

user oh god pls dont do this to me

user are yall thinking what im thinking...?

user whatever you’re thinking, pls keep it to yourself PLS I CANNOT DO THIS.

user so... you’re m.i.a in silverstone?

july 08, 2023

landonorris

liked by f1, oscarpiastri, mclaren, lewishamilton and 1,613,093 others

landonorris p2 and a 🏆 at my home race!!!!! ❤️ you guys are crazyyyyyyyyyy 💙

view all 9,441 comments

mclaren proud 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

masonmount congrats brother!

maxfewtrell absolute scenes, proud brother 🧡

user no signs of y/n here ... 🤔

user ikr like where tf is she

user haven’t seen her since the beginning of this silly season

user she’s out there weeping while her husband’s winning 😹

yourusername

bali, indonesia

liked by yourbffsig, yourmomsig, f1wags and 153,920 others

yourusername crazy how time flies when you’re being yourself; careless and free 🍃

view all 490 comments

yourbffsig love the glow these days! miss you terribly 💔

yourusername don’t be dramatic, you’ll be here in a few days 😛

yourbffsig 🙄 let me be dramatic pls

user uh excuse me maam, you have some races to attend to?

user she’s not really obligated to attend lol let her live her life.

user uh she has a husband who she needs to support? duh? besides, whose money do you think she’s spending?

user y/n earns her own money, she has her own business even before she and lando tied the knot. she has a degree for that, icydk.

user all this time i thought she was a sahw lmfao

user the username of her business is literally on her bio, in case you haven’t seen it :)

yoursistersig love how you look in the first picture 😂 wearing shades because you cried all night?

yourusername i was drunk, in my defense.

yoursistersig yeah, you’re one drunk crier 😂

yourusername quit exposing me please 🥲

user no “congrats lando!”? no “p2 baby!!”? none? ok

user no cuz i rly thought she’d at least say congrats 😐

user imagine securing a podium on ur home race and ur wife cant congratulate u lmao sad life for lando norris

user i hope you’re ignoring the hate comments and healing, y/n ❤️ your peace of mind comes first over everything

user she knew what she was getting into when she married lando, she should be tough enough to read the comments 😂

f1wags

12,420 likes

f1wags updates on lando & y/n! seems like their fairytale love story is over which is why we haven’t seen y/n lately every race weekend!

view all 3,826 comments

user um what

user not them 💔

user omg i feel bad for y/n

user everything probably took a toll on her mental health

user i hope she’s healing and resting, also i hope she’s not pressuring herself on healing :(

user from strangers to childhood besties to lovers to strangers again :/

user damn this hit hard

user dont do this to me please.

user i knew the caption on her last post meant something 😭

#lando norris imagine #lando norris angst #lando norris one shot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris insta au #f1 imagine #f1 fan fic #f1 one shot #f1 instagram au #f1 instagram edit #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

2K notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 3 months

Text

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: prologue

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x reader

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, soulmate, neglectful/abusive family, sexual repression, reader doesn't eat because Beelzebub is a dink, fluff, anxiety

Notes: I wrote this for me mostly

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(Name) Hummed to himself as he carried two buckets of water from the well, kicking a stone that was infront of him as he looked up at the clear summer sky as the wind blew the wild flowers along the path.

He was so exhausted, having woken at five am to start the day and prepare breakfast for his family, the buckets of water were to help his sister get ready for some event, apparently the demon princes were leaving their palace to find a mate of some sort, his sister was obsessed with them... He didn't really know much about them as he stayed in the village and his sister and parents tended to go into town whenever they could.

He didn't know if he wanted his sister to get chosen, on one hand he wouldn't have to deal with the beta woman and her... Well her but also he didn't want to be the focus of his parents, the two resentful of his gender combination as if he had any say in it "male Omega? Not natural" his mother would sneer as if it was some freak science expression, it's clearly natural if he's here.

Going through the back door, he slipped into the house shoes he was given and went up to his sister's room.

"So many alphas! They will have to choose me!" She swooned as she wore her best clothes for the princes, (name) silent as he helped her dress.

"Our soulmate marks with match and it will be wonderful!" She gushed and yelped when the dress was too tight, turning with a cold glare "watch it!" She screeched and slapped him hard across the face "damage this dress and I'll end you!"

He was so thankful when they were leaving, his sister getting into the carriage first as their father helped her in, the Alpha looking fondly at his daughter, turning to give a cold look to (name).

He will never understand their strife.

"Under no circumstances are you to leave this property, am I clear?" His mother hissed and (name) sighed, nodding "of course mother" he said evenly as the prudish beta scowled and turned away, going to the carriage where (father's name) helped her in, not even giving his son another glance before getting in himself and leaving.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he turned back to the house and the sound of silence echoed through the halls of this place he grew up in "finally... I'm taking a bath"

Despite being treated like dirt he still had a decent room in the back area and a bath, using his savings to get nesting supplies and the occasional nice thing for himself, taking a job at the local bakery until he can leave this place.

Leave this place and never look back.

Oh a dream.

(Name) Sunk into the bubbly water as he stared at his soulmate mark, a ring with a web in it, spikes at the top bottom and sides of the ring. He wondered who he was soulmates with... Would they love him?

Well let's just enjoy the silence while one can.

Alphas, betas and omegas lined up excitedly as the brothers looked over for their soulmate, each one presenting their soulmate mark but got shot down immediately by the demons.

(Sisters name) Looked excited as Asmodeus stepped towards her with a flirty grin, the young beta woman showing both her soulmate mark and her chest "am I who you're looking for?" She asked with a grin and the brunette looked at her with a smile "not even in the slightest" he whispered sweetly before a scent hit his nose.

"Is there another Omega you aren't showing us?" He asked with an earie tone, the scent was nothing like the omegas they seen before them no no... This was their omegas scent.

He knew it.

They were close, close enough for them.

"Where are they?"

The brothers entered the small country home, the sound of humming echoed in the furthest corner of the home and the alphas began their hunt.

(Name) Was dressed in a soft puffy tunic and casual pants as he made himself a sandwich, no one to stop the Omega from having an excellent lunch as he hummed softly, completely unaware that someone was watching him from the door... Specifically the soulmate mark on his arm.

Setting the sandwich down on a plate he went to go get some juice he squeezed that morning only to turn and see a red head in a fancy military outfit eating it, a sweet smile on his face and silence fell in the room before (name) spoke "who are you and why are you eating my fucking sandwich" (name) seethed out as the Alpha smiled "it's a good sandwich"

"Beelzebub, you don't take from our omega! You know better!" A voice barked out and (name) looked to see a tall black haired man with red eyes, horns on his head and "you're... Wait that means... Oh." (Name) Seemed to short circuit as he processed the fact that the princes his sister was obsessed with were in his kitchen for some god forsaken reason "why... May I ask are you here? Is it for my sister?"

"Who?" The sleepy prince asked and (name) seemed more distressed as pharamones escaped his scent glands "my sister! You know me but a beta and a woman! Kitchens aren't for princes...!" He seemed genuinely distressed and stressed out as he couldn't make sense of why there were there "shh~ it's alright... We smelt you on her, your family was keeping you away... I wonder why" a pretty man said getting close to (name) and pumping pharamones to calm him but (name) was to concerned on why they were here to begin with "you-- you called me your omega, what are you talking about?!"

"The soulmate mark" the black haired man stepped forward the pretty boy prince lifted his arm "see~? You're our mate!"

(Name) Tried to make sense as he was led out of the kitchen holding a glass of orange juice as his sister stood seething along with his parents.

Great.

Just what he needed after this bombshell.

"We will help you collect your things ~ don't worry you're always welcome to visit them!" The brief introduction stepping out, (name) learned the flirty one was named Asmodeus and the sa switch thief was Beelzebub and the black haired one was named Lucifer, the other brothers quieter but the blond one... Satan, he was analyzing the family closely and frankly, Satan could smell bs a mile away.

(Namely could feel the tension as he went to his room, Belphegor and Mammon following happily as the white haired demon looked at his mates room, much less nicer than the rest of the house and very small though the bed looked comfy to say the least "Bel, don't nap there" he said to his brother knowing if he did they would have to drag him out of that bed. (Name) Thought over on what he would need to bring, packing his important stuff and treasured items before going to his clothes "you don't gotta bring that... Unless there's something pretty in there" Mammon teased and (name) looked scandalized at his words only for the demon to laugh.

(Name) Didn't have many belongings so the packing was quick as Mammon held the bags, giving (name) a tight lipped smile when he tried to take them "(name), don't make the princes hold your things!" His mother scolded him and (name) went rigid and went to take the bags anxiously but Asmodeus gently took one of his hands instead "ah, but what alphas would we be if you not help OUR omegas things?" (Name) Tried not to make eye contact with his family as his sister seethed, he knew she wasn't going to make a scene here; not with so many people.

Not infront of the men she obsessed over.

(Name) Was ushered to the carriages where Lucifer helped him in, he could hear his sister argue with their parents as he was seated between Mammon and Lucifer, their pharamones making him a bit dizzy as Beelzebub and Leviathan sat infront of him.

(Name) Didn't know what to say as the demons spoke amongst themselves and Mammon kept an arm around (name)s shoulders, the smell of his expensive cologne and pharamones were tempting but (name) tried to not react "I'm quite surprised" Beelzebub commented as he snacked on some candies he stored in the carriage "what do you mean?"(Name) Asked curiously, voice soft and careful as the reality of everything set in "you haven't went into preheat, it's weird" he said simply and (name) seemed uncomfortable before speaking "o-oh, I'm on really strong suppressants..." He explained awkwardly and the others seemed to understand a bit "when was your last heat?" Lucifer asked in a serious tone and (name) bit his lip "uh... Three years ago?"

Oh he did not like the the silence that fell in the carriage "Asmo and Satan are gonna be piiiised" mammon said with a laugh and Lucifer sighed "we are going to have to take you off those... You're only supposed to be on those for a few months and then off for a few months" Lucifer said seriously and (name) nodded, worried about well... Mating with them.

Oh god, he's barely spoken to someone outside his family let alone sat with the concept of mating!

God he didn't even -- no one's explained that to him other than keep your legs closed and being shamed deeply for being an Omega!

Oh god it was really settling in now.

There goes his day dreams of living in the woods.

Fuck.

The ride was silent for the rest of the trip save for the occasional crunch from Beelzebub, reminding (name) that he hadn't eaten yet as the red haired man infront of him ate away happily but (name) didn't say anything about his stomach turning into knots as he remembered what his mother taught him, the betas words like venom in his brain.

'an Omega lives to serve, your needs don't matter over your alphas, never ask for something-- only accept if offered'

So he ignored the knots in his stomach, ignoring the fact he was starving and hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon due to the rush of preparing his sister for something that he ended up getting.

Oh god she seemed pissed, like he had never seen that much anger from one person holy shit, god be did not want to have to deal with that. He's probably going to see her at the wedding, fuck there was going to be a wedding! He's going to be marrying seven princes! Fucking hell did that mean he was a royal!?

"We're here!" Mammon said as Lucifer was out fast to help (name) out, the Omega snapping from his meltdown to see the gloved hand and gently took it, helped out and kept close "this is your home now!" Asmodeus said charmingly as he walked beside him "I'm sure we will get along VERY well"

#male reader #x make reader #x reader #reader insert #omega male reader #omegaverse #anime x male reader #anime x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me x reader

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