Plus size reader telling conquest their insecurities about being fat and how people have told them constantly all their lives that they’re to heavy, cut to conquest carrying plus size reader with his hands underneath their knees and readers back against his chest using them like a fleshlight to show that they’re not heavy at all.
(And their plushness looks so good spilling over his fingers)
you’re such a talented writer. What inspires you to write when things get hard?
Ugh this is so sweet thank you! :)
Honestly, I don’t think I’m inspired by anything specific? I’m inspired by how I feel. If I’m not feeling something deeply, more than likely I won’t have much to say.
When something hurts, I write. When something is beautiful, I write. When I can’t make sense of something, I write!
~~~~~~~~~
At some point it stopped being about art and became a coping skill. Years of navigating a rough adolescence and a very hormone-fueled early twenties left me with a lot of feelings and nowhere to put them (LMAO). So naturally writing became the place for all of that.
I don’t write because I want to create something. I write because I need to make a feeling tangible. The writing is just what happens afterward really. It’s not something I really plan for.
Girl!Perv who is absolutely obsessed with you. She took one class with you in university and became hooked.
When the teacher made you two lab partners, she swore she could’ve cried.
You were so nice to her, greeting her with kindness and a sweet smile, having no clue of the filthy, dirty thoughts running through her head.
Girl!Perv who was bustling with horniness as you sat beside her causing her to get a whiff of your perfume.
She was so pathetic. She could feel herself getting wetter.
She stared at you while you paid close attention to the lecture, her eyes particularly focusing on your low cut shirt.
God she could just start drooling!
Thoughts and thoughts of your pretty pussy filled her head. Sure she didn’t know how it looked, but she could imagine. Boy did she imagine.
Were you super chubby or moderately chubby down there? Outie or innie? Did you have a bush or was your cunt slick and bald. How far could you take her strap before crying out about it being too deep?
“Fuck,” she found herself accidentally gasping aloud.
“Hm?” you asked snapping her out of her day dream.
Yandere!Femboy who has always been subtly manipulating you into dominating him.
He definitely knew that there was a domineering bitch hiding under your recluse personality. All he had to do was bait it out of you.
He bothered you relentlessly. He would do incredibly petty shit to bother you. He’s gone as low as pulling your fucking hair.
He says some incredibly rude things to you as well. He doesn’t want to, but you’re making him! Just fucking react already.
“Ugh you’re so fucking boring!” he groaned in frustration after his 1000th attempt to piss you off hasn’t worked. He was finally starting to get on your last nerve.
“I’m fucking boring? You little bitch! All you do is follow me around like a fucking puppy, and you think I’m boring?” you scoffed, “You know what, get the fuck out if I’m so boring then.”
Yandere!Femboy who whimpered at your harsh words, though his cock was simultaneously getting stiff.
“No…” he mumbled, eyes falling from your face.
“That’s what i fucking thought.”
Yandere!Femboy who you just have to boss around. He is much more tolerable that way. You just have to grind down his bitchy little attitude sometimes. He always ended up doing whatever you want anyways.
“Could you be going any slower?” you rolled your eyes as he pathetically fucked into you.
Yandere!Femboy knows he fucks good but he loves when you both act like he doesn’t.
“I’m sorry! I’ll do better! Fuck!” he whimpered in response.
“You fucking better, or I’ll have to find someone else hm? Someone who isn’t just a dumb fucking dog.”
At the sound of that, he let out a little growl as he thrusted into you particularly hard, completely bottoming out.
Your eyes rolled back as his grip tightened on the fat of your hips, bouncing your ass back onto him.
Yandere!Femboy whose mommy kink definitely comes out when he’s a subby, possessive, pathetic mess.
“No, mommy! Never!” he gritted out as he fucked into you deeper, “my mommy, mine mine. This is my pussy.”
You bite your bottom lip to silence the whimpers crawling up your throat. You knew better than to let him win.
“Okay, that’s enough,” you sighed as you pulled away from him, only wincing a bit as his dick slid from the tight clutch of your cunt.
He stared at you in confusion, chest rising and falling rapidly, cock hard and wet.
I think growing up fat and being considered pretty at the same time permanently altered my brain chemistry. People talk about those experiences like they’re opposites, but they’re really not.
I got made fun of for my weight and sexualized before I was old enough to understand what was happening. So which one was I?
The ugly girl or the pretty girl?
The answer, apparently, was…both?
~Looking back, I think what bothers me most is how little room there was to just be a kid!
Everybody had an opinion about how I looked. Meanwhile I was worried about stuff that actually mattered.
Whether we’d have to move again.
Whether there’d be enough money.
Whether things would ever get easier.
I grew up around a lot of people who were carrying way more than they should’ve had to carry. That’s not unique to me. That’s just what happens in a lot of low-income neighborhoods.
You learn things early.
You learn how to read a room. You learn when adults are stressed even when they say they’re not. You learn how to make do. You learn that life can change really fast.
I think that’s why I’ve never been able to take other people’s opinions of me too seriously.
Not because I’m confident.
Just because I’ve always had bigger things to worry about or “bigger fish to fry” as my momma would say.
And honestly, now that I’m 26, that’s probably what annoys me when people try to reduce me to my weight.
Like… that’s the least interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.
I’ve been through too much, seen too much, and survived too much for that to be the headline.
pairing: OT8!skz (platonic) x f!reader; idol!changbin x f!reader
genre: romance, comedy, chaos
warning: swearing
ss: 16
summary: changbin and reader are two clueless idiots. felix babysits.
a/n: this one begins in felix's pov, but only for the group chat. also i think the order is right, but honestly, im so tired i can barely keep my eyes open.
comment down below if you want to be added to the taglist.
Summary: You've only been dating Michael for 6 months now and you couldn't be happier. When an old boxing rival from your school days finds out about your relationship, she starts to publicly trash talk you. You don't care at first until she starts to go for your boyfriend.
Tags: 18+, Mentions of s3x, Cursing, Michael getting mad at you, friends to lovers sprinkled in, reader is a fashion designer, depictions of blood, minor bodily injuries, trash talk, the old rival does make fun of Michael and you in this, mentions of su!c!de, not super accurate depictions of boxing.
A/N: Haven’t written in a long time so be aware this might not be the best writing ♥️
1992
God you loved him. The way he smiles, the way he laughs, how kind he is to people around him. You have been dating Michael Jackson for the past 6 months, already having talks about moving in with him, the future, and what you both want in life.
You were a popular fashion designer, climbing your way to the top with collaborations of other celebrities and hosting some off the wall shows. Your designs leaned towards the futuristic-fantasy style that you loved seeing in movies, leaning more towards women clothing for the aesthetic.
It wasn’t easy getting recognized for your talent. People didn't exactly like women of your size, you realized that over the years.
From kids to adults, you had heard it all. Names, pig noises, lectures and the occasional pinching. You had tried to diet, even went into boxing at one point (thanks to your dad). But you learned to embrace your size over time, coming to terms that you weren’t going to change and that’s fine. You actually loved your body at this point in your life, making fun and beautiful clothing fit for other girls your size. You knew how it felt and wanted to make sure other girls didn’t grow up in those same insecurities.
And that’s what caught Michael’s eye. He had invited you on a collaboration for one of his short films, having seen your designs and wanted to test if you could bring his vision to life. He watched in awe, seeing how you could command a room, direct people around for assistance. You even shut down an idea he had, bringing up a reasonable explanation as why this fabric wouldn’t work with what he wants or how that fabric wouldn’t gleam like he wanted.
Your suggestions were well thought out and you had an explanation for whatever he asked, making sure he understood your point of view and that you understood what he was envisioning. It was amazing really, what the two of you were able to come up together.
A month after the the film had been finished, you got a call from Michael himself. He had asked if you want to go for dinner, and obviously you weren’t gonna say no to the guy. You had found him interesting as well, loving how direct he was with his vision.
When you gave suggestions, he listened.
When you explained something to him, he always seemed interested at the topic. Always looking intently and soaking up every information you gave him,
And so that’s where you’re at now; 6 months of pure bliss with a man who actually loves you for you. Of course, the people loved to make a spectacle out of you two. How vastly different you seemed from each other. How it was crazy that he would ever get with someone of your size. Or why you would ever be with someone like him. They always made you out to be some whale of a gold digger and Michael to be some creature.
But you never let it get to you. Because why would you? Life was good, you were thriving in your career and had the most amazing guy as a boyfriend.
That is… until she came along.
Her name was Ramona-something. You never had the mental energy to remember her full name, having already little care for the beginning of this drama. Ramona was a girl from your boxing days, having been put in by her uncle. You two would fight a lot and were somewhat rivals at one point. But after you left that chapter behind you, you also forgot about her.
In a recent interview, you were asked about Ramona and gave the interviewer a confused look.
“Who?”
And that is what pissed Ramona off. She was now popping up everywhere, lines from interviews drizzled all over magazines about what she thought of you. You weren’t angry tho. You couldn’t care any lesser than you already did.
You weren’t angry even when she called you names. Or when she made fun of your style. Or when she made fun of your weight. Or your clothes, your hair, your face, etc, etc.
Michael, of course, was more irritated at the situation, not fully understanding how you weren’t as mad as him.
“I just have thicker skin nowadays, Michael.” You reassured him, cupping his face as you gave him a peck on his nose.
“She’s just trying to get a reaction out of me. I’m not gonna lose my cool over something I’ve heard, I don’t know, a million times before?” It broke his heart a little to hear you say that, but he at least understood a little more about your reaction.
A whole week of this went by, and you were doing nothing but chilling and working on projects. The TV was on as background noise; you were humming away, tuning in every now and then. An interview on some random channel you had on was just starting out, but you weren't paying too much mind, more focused on the drawing in front of you.
"So, Ramona, is it?" Oh great. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore it but decide to tune in just a little bit. You couldn't lie that you were, at least, a little intrigued.
"We've heard you mention (Y/N) (L/N) a few times over the week. And I'm just wondering, why is that? Do you have any specific reason?"
"Do I need one?" " Well I would hope so? You have been saying some very harsh things about her lately." Exactly, you thought. "No reason really. J'saw her in an ad recently and it brought back memories of when we were kids, y'know?" She went on a small rant about how you never seemed actually interested in boxing and blah, blah, blah. You were zoning out again, the interview being more boring than you anticipated. At some point, the Ramona slips a name out that catches your ear.
Michael.
You whip your head towards the tv, your eyes wide. She better not be.
"And that boy toy of hers? He looks like an alien with that nose!" I mean, you knew she was petty, but this was too far for you to not take offense.
"And he's not fooling anyone with that patchy makeup, we can all tell 'bout his bleaching problem. I'd k!ll myself if I had to be with him!" Ramona laughs after that, swinging her head back as she does so.
The grip on your pencil tightens, the sound of wood cracking beneath your fingers being drowned out by her laugh. How dare she. She has no idea what she's talking about, none at all. Your vision slightly blurs as you turn the TV off, the silence being so loud it thumps in your ears; tears brimming your eyes as you try to contain yourself. You couldn't give her a reaction, not one single twitch.
And as if the universe was trying to torture you, the phone rang.
You swiftly grab the phone, taking a deep breath before putting the receiver to your ear. "Hello, who is this?"
One Month Later
You had agreed.
You had agreed and do not regret it.
What did you agree to exactly?
A fight. A fight with Ramona. In the ring. People have been talking about it for the past few weeks, buzzing in excitement about Michael Jackson's girlfriend fighting some random woman from her childhood.
Speaking of Michael, he was not exactly happy about the whole situation. He had called you later that day after finding out through Bill, practically begging you to reconsider. The next day wasn't good either, you went over to his place to talk. But that talk turned into a yelling match. "You could get seriously injured or worse!"
"I couldn't stand the way she was talking about you!"
"That's why you agreed to that?! I hear shit like that all the time! You don't think I want to do something about it??"
"So what, I'm just supposed to just let them do that to you??"
"Yes!! Ignore it!! Something!! Not get yourself into a fight!! How long has it been since you boxed, huh?!"
"A while, but I'm gonna start training—" "Oh you're gonna?? In three months?? That's insane (Y/N)! I can't believe you.."
That was a month ago, the two of you had barely spoken since. You had been training with a coach you found through a good friend of yours, warming back up to how you used to be in the ring.
You wanted to invite Michael but assumed it would just cause more damage to the relationship. Why couldn't he just see that you were doing this for him? You loved him so much, and you couldn't stand to hear those nasty rumors about him.
Your heart ached remembering the argument you both had, guilt creeping up your spine as you leaned against the ropes. You wish you could call him, maybe apologize and explain why you’re doing this again, but you knew that it would fall on deaf ears.
He was stubborn, at times. Especially when it came to you. You shook those distracting thoughts out of your head. He’s going to have to deal with it, whether he likes it or not. You thought to yourself, fiddling with the fingerless boxing gloves on your hands.
You continue to practice, swinging into the punching mitts that your coach held. He was giving you pointers and more advice in between, encouraging you as you swing. During your session, you swore you could hear the door opening; which was weird because you had made sure to rent out the space for two hours. You decided to keep going, thinking nothing of it.
Michael on the other hand, was leaning against the wall, watching intently at the way you moved. He didn’t know you had done this before, guessing that maybe it was a time you didn’t want to think or care about. He was still annoyed at the fact you were doing this. He just doesn’t understand why you would put yourself in harms way like that. He’s seen what Ramona looks like, that girl is big. She’s gotta be at least 6 foot; Next to her you were probably a foot below that height.
It scared him. Like genuinely scared him. He always thought the worst of things when it came to you. If you didn’t call him once a day, he’d assume you got kidnapped, which he would then start to call over and over again. Of course, you reassure him, setting his worries aside, but this was different! You were going to be fighting in a boxing match, and your opponent was a fucking giant.
As Michael watched you, he starts to notice how you’ve changed a bit. After a month of training, you’ve lost a little bit of weight. Not anything crazy, you were still the same you, but he never noticed how strong you looked. Sweat glistened against your skin as you moved, your hair sticking to your forehead and nape of your neck. A focused and determined look on your face, but also anger laid beneath your expression. He couldn’t lie, Michael thought you looked insanely hot, biting his lip with his arms crossed over his chest.
Deep down, a small part of him found all of this unimaginably hot. The fact that you’re willing to fight for him to this degree and get so riled up just for his sake, god he couldn’t imagine anything more sexy. Just imagining you on top, arms pressed against either side of his head as you—
His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a high five, echoing throughout the building. That’s right he’s in the boxing gym watching you train. You look around as you drink from your water bottle, your eyes finally landing on Michael. He was in a funny little disguise, a bushy mustache and a scruffy beard accessorized with a big puffy jacket, some sweats and a baseball cap, all topped off with a pair of sunglasses. You chuckled a little, clearing your throat as ducked under the ropes.
“Hey…” You quietly spoke. You were a little nervous of how this interaction would go.
“…hey..” He hesitates, neither of you knowing who should speak next. “I’m sorry..” Michael says, letting out a deep sigh.
“No, I’m sorry, Michael I—” He cuts you off.
“No.. Let me apologize first. I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.. I understand you’re just trying to stand up for me…. Even if the way you’re doing it scares me.” You bit your lip, hesitant to look him in the eyes. “But that’s not to say I’m not thankful. A small part of me is flattered that you would go to such lengths for me.” He smiles a little at you, giving you his famous lip bite.
You took his hand, rubbing your thumb in circles against a vein between his knuckles. “I’m glad you understand it a bit. I will admit.. it was reckless of me to agree so quickly to a fight. Especially since it’s been a good while since I’ve boxed….” You shuffled your feet a bit. “I just love you.. so so much, and…hearing her say those things about you just rubbed me the wrong way.”
Michael chuckles a bit, leaning down to kiss your temple. “I love you, too (Y/N)…”
“Hey if you two lovebirds are done making up over there, me and my fighter have some more training to do.”
You giggled in embarrassment, heat creeping up to your cheeks as you smiled. Michael cleared his throat, kissing your hand before letting it go.
“I’ll see you soon?”
“Of course…”
Two Months Later
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! WHO’S READY TO RUMBLLLLLLE!!
You were nervous. Oh so fucking nervous. But you were also ready, determined to put that bitch into the ground. You had heard more shit talk coming from her over the past few months, most of it was towards you and you would be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Just what the fuck was her deal??
IN THIS CORNER!! SHE’S FAMOUS FOR HER OUT OF THIS WORLD DESIGNS AND DATING MICHAEL JACKSON!
ITS (Y/N)(L/B)!!
You stepped in the ring, fans and patrons erupting in either cheer or just yelling, you couldn’t tell. Cameras were going off near the stage but the blinding lights from above seemed to shield them from hurting your eyes.
AND IN THIS CORNER, SHES A TWO-TIME CHAMPION OF THE LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIPS
RAMONA BURKE!!
An equal amount of the crowd also goes insane, cheers and whoops and hollers galore.
Ramona enters the ring, staring you down with an intensity that deeply unsettled you. It was almost as if she had been waiting this her entire career, which would be insane to you because who stays that obsessed?? You remember her being just as intense about your sparring sessions, throwing the same insults at you as she did now. A memory of her calling you a quitter and a coward briefly resurfaced in your mind; you had just quit boxing that day, and she didn’t take it too kindly.
The referee motions you both to come forward, explaining the rules and what’s not allowed. “I want a clean and fair fight, understood?” You both nod, shaking hands before stepping back a bit. You instinctively put your hands up in a block position, almost as if you knew—
Ramona swings at your face, trying to perform a jab but because you remembered how she fought as kids, you were able to dodge it. She was always a hot-headed bully, eager to finish the fights she started.
Michael watched from the first row, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He wished he could've talked you out of this sooner, but he knew how stubborn you can be, determined to see something through.
Ramona throws another punch, and another, and another; your arms taking every hit, bruises already starting to form. You manage to dodge from one, giving you the ability to put some space between you. As she lunges for you, you manage to land a hit on her, performing a cross. It lands on her jaw, but it barely fazes your opponent.
This goes on through round 1,2, and even 3! You block her moves, and she aggressively continues her jabs. The bell rings and you are both sat in your respective corners, rehydrating as needed. Michael is standing as close as he can from behind the rope, dabbing your forehead with a towel as your coach gives you water and advice. You don’t know how much longer you could keep it up, all you did was block these past few rounds, Ramona making sure to not leave room for you to strike. She was trying to tire you out, you knew that. You just have to figure out when to get her off you for just enough time.
The bell dings once more, signaling you both for round 4. You stand up, back in your stance and already she’s swinging at you. Before you can react her fist collides with your face, hitting both the side of your nose and your cheek all in one. You stagger back, holding your face with one hand.
Blood trickles slowly from your nose, down your lips and drips off your chin, your hand shaking slightly. Ramona laughs loudly, the cheers and yells from the crowd nearly drowning her out.
“Oh my bad, sweetheart!! Seems I got your nose pretty good!!” She gestures to Michael with her chin. “Maybe you can get the same surgery as your boy-toy over there! -Gasp- Awww! You guys can match!!”
Your blood suddenly boils at her words, fists clenching as you stare up at her. You remembered why you were doing this in the first place. She just smirks at you and continues on.
“You can be two freaks together, won’t that be cute?? I can see it now, one—” You cut her off, moving swiftly in front of her before performing a right hook to her side. Her cocky demeanor falters for a second before regaining it, wincing at the jab.
“Fucking finally!! I thought you were never going to hit—” BAM! A jab at her face, same one she got you with. The crowd around you cheers, whooping and hollering at the two hits you managed to land so quick; Michael and your coach cheering along with them. Ramona stumbles back, eyes widening, quickly getting back in her stance.
She gives you a wide-eyed stare, her expression changing to one of uncertainty. She can see how your demeanor has changed, your face still and unnerving, like you’re staring down prey. Like you’re staring her down.
Watching…
Waiting…
You closed the space again, throwing a left hook this time. Ramona dodges, barely, the knuckles of your fist sliding past her side. You throw a jab, she dodges. You throw a hook, she dodged again. This goes on for a bit, you’re throwing and she barely manages to dodge, sweat dripping onto the rings floor.
Ramona miscalculates a punch though, thinking you were gonna throw another jab or a hook. Instead you perform an uppercut, and she moves straight into it after trying to duck, your first colliding with her lips.
You back off a bit, letting her stumble against the ropes again. You felt high, exhilarated even; Like you were on a rollercoaster pumped full of adrenaline, anticipating the drop. A smile tugs at your lips, blood spreading across your teeth.
Michael was staring up at your from below the ropes, in awe at how you looked from this angle. The way the light hit from above you made you almost look angelic in a way, sweat glistening in the light. Your smile was radiant in his eyes, no matter the blood that stained your lips and teeth or how bat-shit insane you looked in the moment.
You were beautiful to him.
Ramona tries to gain her composure again, not wanting you to sense her nerves. But the second she looked at you, her blood ran cold. You looked happy, euphoric even, like you were actually enjoying this fight. You’re supposed to be scared and crying right about now, why are you happy??
Ramona licked her lips, the taste of copper and sweat running across her tongue.
“The fuck are you smiling for?! You were always such a whale growing up!! Three months and you still couldn’t lose the weight??”
You didn’t answer, your eyes focused on her and your smile unwavering.
“Hello?? I’m talking to you Fat Bitch!!”
Ramona tries to run at you, attempting a left hook, but you dodge in time, your eyes and mind hyper focused in the moment. You quickly parry her move with a jab and an uppercut, sending her stumbling back.
The crowd goes crazy, some yelling profanities and some praising you. Lights flashing all around you and Ramona as she tries to get up. She’s on her stomach, trying to push herself up, her arms wobbling. Her vision foggy as she tries to find sight of you. She, much to your dismay, gets back up, her breathing ragged.
You come at her again, giving her another jab to the ribs, and another right hook to the face. And with that she fell down, looking as if she’ll pass out. The referee gets to the ground, counting up from 1-10, smacking the mat as he did. But she didn’t get up, Ramona lifted her head and as much as she tried, she just couldn’t muster the strength. The bell rings once more and for the last time. The yelling and cheers elevate all around you two. Michael jumps for joy, shaking Bill who had been standing next to him as he yelled out your name.
You looked around.
Holy shit.
You did it!
Holy shit!!
You look back at Michael, a big smile on your face. You looked wrecked but he didn’t care. All he saw was how magnificent you were. He hops up on the stage, holding on tight to the ropes as he leaned forward. You immediately follow his lead, leaning in and giving him a big ol’ kiss on the lips as blood smeared slightly on his face. You pull away, smiling as big as ever.
“I’m so proud of you, (Y/N)!!” He yelled towards your ear, the noise making it incredibly hard to hear each other.
“Me too, honey..” You giggled, thanking him as well.
After a few seconds you walk back over to Ramona, her tall frame leaned against the ropes as she kept her eyes closed for rest. You held your hand out, offering her at least a little kindness. You didn’t want to keep her as a “rival”, even though it was pretty much one sided. Ramona looks at your hand, a look of disgust on her face. But she obliged, grabbing your hand as you helped her to her feet.
You held each other’s arm up, the announcer letting the crowd know you won.
1 Hour Later
You sat in the same limousine you came in, curled against Michael while Bill drove the car.
Michael was playing with your hair, occasionally fixing the ice pack on your cheek. Your eyes felt heavy, exhaustion finally taking over body once the adrenaline wore off.
“You were beautiful up there, baby…”
Michael whispered lovingly, moving some hair out of your face. “It was like looking at an angel…” You giggled tiredly, shaking your head. “Sure I did.”
“I’m serious! You were magnificent! I mean I was terrified for you, but… ugh, I shouldn’t say that..” That peaked your interest. You sat up to face him, quirking a eyebrow up.
“Say what?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh come on! You can’t just say something like that and then not finish!! Pleeeeaaaasee?”
“…no…”
You pouted at him, giving him your best sad puppy look as you clasped your hands together in a plea. “Please, baby?”
Michael’s eye twitched trying to ignore you but ultimately failed, letting out a deep sigh.
“I thought… this whole thing… was kind of.. hot of you…..”
Your eyes went wide like saucers, and then you started giggling, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Michael huffed and crossed his arms, blushing as well while he looked out the window.
“See now that’s why I didn’t want to say something.”
“Aw but it’s cute!” You giggled. “Don’t be upset baby..”
You softly put your hand on his inner thigh, slowly trailing it dangerously close to a certain area.
“Maybe…when we get home… you can show me?”
Michael snorts, and pushes you lightly, giggling with you. “Not in your state, mama. I don’t want you to hurt more than you already do..”
You roll your eyes, leaning back against him. His hand fell gently back on to your hair, like it was second nature to him. A few minutes go by before he gently brings your hand to his lips, giving them a gentle kiss.
“I love you, (Y/N)…”
“I love you, too, Michael..”
A/N: sorry if it feels rushed, I got really excited to finish this near the end :’)
