#WHO IS THIS DIVA??✨✨✨ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluesidez · 4 months ago

Note

AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.

okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨

["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]

lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader

summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.

content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout

word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)

a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!

Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.

Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times.

Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever.

The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out.

Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded.

You were so ethereal.

He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor.

He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side.

So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed.

You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180.

“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him.

Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning.

The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to.

Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day.

“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”

Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”

“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”

“What’s the name?”

You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness.

“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand.

“I’m not. What’s the name?”

You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?”

Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down.

“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”

You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes.

Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek.

The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets.

But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?

Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life.

Just the person he wanted to hear from.

“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Miguel…”

He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using.

“What happened?”

“Today was so beautiful!”

“But?”

“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”

Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.

“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.

“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”

He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”

“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”

Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.

“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”

“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”

Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”

“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”

“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”

Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Was that Ma?”

“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”

“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”

Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”

You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”

“You two are gonna work my nerves.”

“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”

You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up.

“Fine.”

“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”

“So funny.”

“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”

Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district.

You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented.

He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date.

He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme.

He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.

“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile.

Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”

He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.

“Hello! Welcome in!”

The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.

“Miguel, look!”

You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards.

“That is too adorable to even eat.”

“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”

You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears

“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake.

“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”

Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other.

“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open.

“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”

“I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”

You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.

“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching.

“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.

“Miguel, please.”

“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”

“When we’re the only ones in here?”

“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”

You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream.

He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue.

One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning.

You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”

“Something like that.”

You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante.

He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it.

“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”

“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”

“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”

“You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back.

You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah?”

“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you like it, though?”

He paused as he watched you take a bite.

“Maybe.”

“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”

“No….”

You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”

“…Yes.”

He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.

“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”

“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”

“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”

“Close.”

You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies.

Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”

You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm.

“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”

Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease.

“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”

“Of course, let me go get that for you.”

He looks back at you cheesing at him.

“You remembered!”

“Always.”

Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake.

“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”

You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top.

Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”

“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”

“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”

“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”

They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up.

“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”

Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”

“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”

“N-no sir! Not at all.”

“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”

“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”

Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything.

“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“Your! Your wedding!”

“Hmph.”

Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior.

“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car.

“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?”

“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”

Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face.

“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”

You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently.

“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”

He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”

When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it.

You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.

This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes.

“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?”

The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red.

“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”

“He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”

“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.

He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.

The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.

“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”

You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup.

The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials.

As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch.

You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way.

With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home.

By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.

“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”

You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.

It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up.

He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.

There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene.

“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.

Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”

You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned.

You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way.

“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”

You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted.

“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”

“You love my nose, huh?”

“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation.

Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at.

He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more.

Save the date…

2025…

Miguel &…

“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”

You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”

“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”

You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”

You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body.

“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face.

Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”

You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze.

When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth.

He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished.

Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand.

You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces.

He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him.

“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”

“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”

“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.

The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.

“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”

“I miss you too but you need to have fun”

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”

“good”

“you better be waiting for me”

“i wont you”

“shit”

“want you”

“you and your dick”

“gonna sing to him”

“Him?”

“yeah him”

“he’s mine”

“gonna love on him”

“and you”

“miss you so baaaaad”

“the bed is empty without you :((((“

“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”

“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”

“idk who baby is”

“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”

“i will go to sleep mr ohara”

“gonna dream of you”

“and my big dick”

“You do that”

“Send me a pic when you wake up”

The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set.

Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace.

So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”

Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”

Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”

“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”

“W-what’s the difference?”

He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it.

“I’m going to fire you.”

Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired.

“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood.

Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up.

Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it.

You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families.

Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable.

The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious.

The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something.

“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”

“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”

“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”

You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”

Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out.

“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”

The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”

Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.

After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:

“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”

“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”

“Should I hire more help for you?”

“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”

“Can you try this mole one more time?”

You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.

“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.

“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”

The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.

The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue.

Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.

Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.

“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”

It truly was magical watching your vision come to light.

Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.

“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.

The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process.

Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting.

“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”

The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.

“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”

“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”

“Of course.”

“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”

Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared.

“You really love her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”

Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words.

Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.

“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”

The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’

Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.

“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”

The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration.

Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.

Today was starting out obnoxious.

Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.

First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.

Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later.

He wanted to strangle him.

“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”

“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”

Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew.

“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.

“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”

“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”

Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.

“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.

“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”

He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door.

“Where is she?”

“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”

“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”

“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”

“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”

“I really don’t give a-”

“Miguel.”

He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.”

With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.

“You ok, baby?”

He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you.

“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”

“Honestly, me too.”

The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?

He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”

You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”

“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”

“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath.

“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”

“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”

You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.

“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”

“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.

He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.

Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped.

You really were his world.

Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.

As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it.

As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax.

You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his.

“You’re shaking.”

He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”

With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life.

You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together.

To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard.

When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later.

One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder.

Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you.

You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car.

It was really a joyous occasion.

Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.

Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.

The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high.

The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into.

After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room.

When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”

You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other.

By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself.

He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck.

You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”

“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”

“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”

“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”

He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over.

“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”

“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go.

“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”

Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided.

He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time.

He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out.

“Close your eyes!”

Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer.

You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.

“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists.

You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body.

“Ok, open ‘em.”

Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters.

“You like it?”

Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.

“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”

“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”

You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more.

You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today.

“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”

“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”

You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse.

“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips.

You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips.

Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop.

You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants.

The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting.

He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world.

At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles.

You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You laugh even more when you see it up close.

“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.

You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy.

“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”

Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”

True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there.

Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit.

You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy.

“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower.

Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue.

You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs.

“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter.

“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you.

You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push.

Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter.

When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips.

By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise.

Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets.

You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head.

“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”

Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”

You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply.

“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”

Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest.

The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber.

I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

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therealcocoshady · 3 months ago

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POV : You’re Marshall Mathers’s girlfriend and he worships you

Author’s Note : Hi guys ��. I feel like it’s been a while since I last published something on here. Enjoy this little blurb I wrote. It’s kind of random but I think it’s kind of cute still 💕.

Marshall Mathers doesn’t really enjoy being treated like a king wherever he goes. He knows people give him special treatment out of respect, because he is a huge fucking superstar, but he doesn’t really care for it. He’s just a normal dude at heart, you know ? He likes it when things are kept simple. He’s not a huge fan of the deference, of people practically bowing and curtsying to him because he is Eminem. It’s weird.

But when it comes to you ? People better treat you like the absolute monarch that you are. This man will not accept anything less for the woman he loves. You are his sun. His days start and end with you. You are a deity he worships day and night and people better put some respect on his lady’s name.

He is not giving you the princess treatment. No. This would be good enough for any peasant. If he could, this man would build altars and monuments for you. You are his religion. Your birthday and the anniversary of your first date are holidays he refuse to work on. Doesn’t matter if he’s offered hundreds of thousands of dollars for a ten minutes performance, he simply refuses to be away from you on those days. And if you so much as utter an « I need you », this man will drop absolutely everything. He’s done it in the past and he absolutely has no regrets about flying for five hours on a day off from tour to be able to surprise you at work after you mentioned it was « so hard being away » from him. He is usually mindful about climate change but for you, this man will turn into Taylor « taking my jet for a ten minutes flight » Swift. He literally doesn’t care about the world burning as long as there is a smile on your face. Marshall is not a big spender but for you, he doesn’t care about numbers. His goddess deserves the very best and, thank God for that merch money, he is able to give it to you. He’s not a diva but he demands the very best for you. He couldn’t care less about the water brought to him in his dressing room before a performance. But he makes sure it’s your favorite brand. Same for snacks. If he has to fly someone to another country to get something for you, he absolutely will. In his mind, it’s the least he can do for the woman who blesses him with her presence. He is almost offended when someone fails to greet you properly and he absolutely is when someone straight up disrespects you. If he could, he would fight duels in your honor. Somehow, you managed to turn this stoic individual in the utmost gentleman. When he’s by your side, you will never be caught walking on the wrong side of the pavement, having to hold your own bags. He’d rather die than have that. But you’ll never be caught. Because he protects you like you’re the most precious treasure there is. He’s never caught in your presence, because he doesn’t want to have you plagued by the media and harassed by fans and, yet, he manages to show you off. In private, he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s head over heels with you. Your name is on his lips constantly, and the way he talks about you shows just how devoted he is. At first, people close to him got a little worried. Who were you ? What were your intentions ? It seemed like you were out of nowhere. Walked into Marshall’s life one day and, from then on, he was addicted. They had every reason to be suspicious. And then, they met you. And they understood. They got to witness the genuineness of your interactions, how your eyes mirrored Marshall’s devotion, the way he leaned into your touch so naturally and just how you seemed to heal the parts of him that had been left raw. For the first time in forever, they saw him at peace. Not merely content. Happy. They expected to hate you, because what kind of high maintenance brat has the most stoic man they ever knew act like a puppy ? Only, they couldn’t. It wasn’t quite clear how things worked out between you and Marshall and, in hindsight, it was none of their business. But they couldn’t hate you when it was clear as day that « Em » as most call him, had finally found a safe space. So you won them over as well, and they gave you the princess treatment.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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moonchild-in-blue · 6 months ago

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Do you ever think how Sleep Token are literally the physical embodiment of their instruments? Hear me out:

Vessel is voice & piano -> beautiful ; stable ; Main Character™ ; extremely versatile ; goes from ✨ soft and delicate ✨ to ANGRY!! AND BIG!!! in seconds ; she's an icon for a reason 💅 ; basically That Bitch ; emotional emo boy 🥺 ; scales!!! runs !!! ⬆️↗️↙️↖️↘️➡️⬇️↖️ intonation so perfect it's actually infuriating ; SKILLS - a showoff really (affectionate) (all singers have a bit of diva in them) ; the RANGE is IMMACULATE 📈📉

ii is drums -> Responsible and Reliable ; but also so so fun ; backbone of the group ; eepie complex flourishes and LOUD SOUNDS 💥 WOOO ‼️ PSSHHH PSSSHH 🔥 BOOOM ❤️‍🔥 TRRRRRAAAAA 💥 ; don't mess with him ; brain working at 200% full capacity ; COMPACT AND FAST OOOOHHH lookathimgooo ; circle (cus drums and cymbals and eyes 🟤🟡🔵)

iii is bass -> grooveehh~ 🤪🤙 ; fun !!! ; FUNKY 🕺 ; HUGE ENORMOUS OMG ; scary - terrifying even when he wants to ; liquid (this makes sense in my head) ; actually so crucial - there's no party without her 🪩 ; the Smooth to guitar's Sexy 🥵

ivy is guitar -> COOL GUY 😎 ; pretty boy 🥹 ; Mr Steal-Yo-Girl 😏 ; weird symbiotic relationship with Bass (👀) ; she's famous for a reason ; will serenade you AND break your heart at the same time but it's okay because HOT ; Extra sexy points for harsh vocals ; the Sexy to bass's Smooth 🥵

Espera are voice (specifically backing vocals) -> literal angels who walk among mortals 🥺 ; will elevate any situation to a higher plane ; like Ves, they also have that Main Character Energy™ all singers have ; ethereal and otherworldly 💖 ; mesmerising really like wow ; That Bitch 2.0 💅✨

Thanks you for coming to my Ted Talk :::D

#if this doesn't make sense pls know i'm typing in at [ungodly hour of the night] so i don't forget #this came to me in a vision (it was Sleep) (i don't pretend to know the designs of an eldritch deity) (i merely convey the message)#i'm scheduling this actually. you're not going to draft territory #sleep token

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owosa · 4 months ago

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Some Followers that were really dear to me.

The Famous Gals ✨

Wendy, the diva who conquered Narinder's heart.

Glo II, who fought 5 times with Heket (3) and Shamura (2) while drunk.

Juliet, the first honorary lamb of the Lamb's flock

Patches, the only one of the flock that was lost early due to a mission.

The Quartet ✨

This 4 have a special space in my heart because they were background characters for my 30 days challenge from 2022.

Bonus under the cut!

#cult of the lamb #cotl #lambsona #followers #ma babies #love them all a lot #owo of the last days

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dontbesoweirdkira · 4 months ago

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Yandere Alphabet—Johnny Cage MK1

A/N: I’m back in my MK11/1 phase so please be prepared for the toxic men we love/hate! Here’s prime Johnny being a absolute monster to his darling. Remember this is all my opinion.

Warnings: abuse, violence, emotional/verbal abuse, kidnapping, forced videos, ect…

Masterlist

Requests: Mk11/1/X or whatever else I write for open 24/7

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Johnny dearest is always functioning at a highhhhh intensity! Especially when it comes to his darling.

He’s never shy of showing his love for you. He doesn’t just have one love language… Gift giving, physical affection, words of affirmation and quality time are all his favorites.

It can often times be quite scary witnessing this first hand. He’s constantly love bombing you and acting a little too perfect at times to win you over…of course this is only followed by his✨abusive behavior ✨

Any little piece of information he can grab from you, he will use it for his benefit. You like a certain brand? Here is everything they have in every single color….

You like a partner you can sit and paint with?! Well buckle up baby because he is now, Mr. Johnny Ross(loll)

He’s willing to one up anything someone will offer you with something farrrrr greater.

You’re smothered with all kinds of physical affection as-well and it doesn’t matter who is around y’all at the time. You can try to push him away, his grip will only become tighter and he’ll utter sweet nothings in your ear, “the more you fight me,the worse I’ll make this for you.”

His smile and gestures are oh so sweet, but there’s just something so chilling behind it.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Before Johnny had ever joined the tournament he was a very great muy thai fighter, sometimes to a fault.

Cage got himself into lots of trouble and plenty of fights during his career over very small issues….you don’t think he’ll go through hell and back for you?!

I mean come on he kills for fun at this point, he’ll gladly slice someone’s head off if they disrespect you.

I honestly don’t believe there’s any limits Johnny is not willing to cross when it comes down to getting his hands bloody. Torture, extortion, kicking someone into a moving train…

I mean hell I’d say at his very worst delusional state he’d even kill someone publicly if that proves his devotion to you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

From reading other writers works and analyzing hours of Johnny cannon content…it seems to be a mixed bag.

But I personally think he would be rather mean towards you.

Yes MK1 johnny is a sweetie pie and really seems to care about people he loves but his wife still left him over his ways.

I can see him being extremely condescending and enjoying watching you beg for food or to be let out.

He’s a narcissistic asshole at his core. I think he’d get much pleasure out of forcing you to give praises to him and perform certain humiliating tasks to get what you want/need out of him.

(Don’t mean this sexually lmaooo)

“Oh you want some water, sweetheart? Sure! You know you can have whatever you want in this house….as long as you do what I asked for earlier..”

I think Johnny would also film you doing these tasks while he laughs at and mocks you. Just something wholesome for him to watch when he’s away from you🥰

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Obviously the stuff I mentioned previously plussss

Forcing you to go to premiers, red carpet, parties, and interviews.

Sometimes he’ll make you sit in his movie trailer all day while he’s getting ready or reciting lines. You will have to compliment his hair and costuming thoroughly or no one will go home until it’s right.

“It looks great.” Ain't gonna cut it!! Please just play along. The costuming and makeup department are underpaid and overworked. He’s gonna have a full blown diva meltdown if you don’t respond correctly.

Also! You don’t have a choice to not be all over his social media or on his live streams…and you better not even HINT to being abducted because you will get it!!

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Depends on how long you’ve been his darling…

I think Johnny is fantastic at pretending his life is perfectly fine and that “Cage” is really him.

He wants you to believe he truly is all he is cracked up to be. Deep down all narcissistic people are a little bit insecure though and he fears you’re going to walk out on him if the mirror shatters.

Living in his house longer than a few months is easy to see just how messed up and vulnerable he actually is. No matter how much he tries to hide his addictions, failing career and lack thereof money…you see it all.

Every now and then Johnny will get black out drunk and have a moment of vulnerability. He’ll shower you in endless apologies and cry about how much he’s just scared you’ll leave…

You’re so perfect and pure unlike his disgusting self. You’re the only reason why he still tries—-blah blah blah

He forgets all that crap in the morning and goes back to being his usual self. Don’t bring this up, even in the heat of your emotions he’ll gaslight the hell outta you

(Deep down he knows what you’re saying is true but who would he be to admit this)

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It’s hilarious…Oo it reminds him of this old Hollywood film..what was it called again?

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Is it a good day or is it happening after a shitty day at the studio??

A good day? He’ll just have fun with it. You’re not strong enough to even win this so why do you try???

It’s cute though and it doesn’t really phase him at all. Like I said he looooves recording videos of things like this to replay later. He might even play it for you again before you go to sleep, just to remind you who actually has the upper hand.

“Hahahaha, oh this is comedy gold! Are you seeing this? I hope you’re watching so the next time you think about being a pain in my ass and try to escape, you’ll remember just how weak you are. This is my kingdom baby..no one leaves unless I say so.”

He says this all with his stupid smile before turning over to fall asleep like it’s nothingg

A bad day he’s pissssed. Can’t you see that he is trying all he can to get back on top…FOR YOU…and you wanna be a little bitch and escape??

There’s nothing but pure rage and I’d caution you to ignore anything that leaves his mouth for the next two hours

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to obviously get back on top of the world. He craves that attention and status again. He wants to get married to you, maybe make you into some kind of model or something too…maybe not….you’re only allowed to pose for him.

You’ll be his perfect little trophy that he can parade and throw around as he pleases. You’ll get everything you could ever want.

Who wouldn’t want to be married to an Emmy-Award winning super starr?? This is the perfect life no?

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Jealous? Johnny Cage and jealous being used in the same sentence?! Yes.

He’ll never ever give you the satisfaction of admitting that he is. He always gets jealous over the littlest things.

He doesn’t believe in you having a Hollywood crush…he is the Hollywood crush and how dare you insult him by even suggesting that person is hotter than him?!

He’ll spend hours dissecting them and how every feature or personality trait is unattractive in contrast to his. You’re starting rivalries, y/nnnn!!!

You are to not look, speak , or breathe the same air as another man. Johnny will constantly be in the backseat of a cop car fighting these guys.

If he suspects you’re crushing/talking to someone else(even if you’re not) he’ll lash out about it.

Your devices, journals, and personal items are all confiscated until he goes through every single one of them to make sure you’re really not cheating.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Okay let me give him a break. I’ve talked so much about him being a menace that I need to remind everyone that he’s a natural romancer.

Ganghis khan doesn't have anything on the amount of women he’s been with. Of course Johnny knows a few things about being sweet to a lady.

There’s plenty of days where he’s extremely charming and shows that he cares. Even with his crippling debt, he still finds money to spoil you.

A lot of times you think he isn’t listening to you because he’s always glued to his phone. While that may be 60% true, he does pleasantly surprise you with the things you mentioned or talked about. He’ll have his assistants scour the internet trying to find rare items from your favorite fixation for you.

I mentioned he is extremely physically and verbally affectionate at times. A lot of the times his compliments are…degenerative but he will say something wholesome every now and again.

“Hmm…I really love your hair like that. The curls really make you look lovely.”

On a regular day he does speak rather gently to you, especially in public and if you get nervous from all the paparazzi.

He doesn’t shy away from PDA. Cage isn’t embarrassed of you at all, even if you are more of a plain Jane. You’re still smoking hottttt!

Don’t worry about asking before touching him. If you’re a socially anxious person, he actually gets excited when you hold onto his arm or curl up into him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Flirtatious banter and love bombing…

He was genuinely shocked when you had absolutely no interest in him. That has never not worked on a woman. (A lie) You didn’t even accept the Chanel bag?! That’s a first.

when he realized all his tricks weren’t going to work, he resorted to just taking what is rightfully his.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He likes to take away any kind of enjoyment from you. If you want to act up and not obey him…fine. If he’s not happy then you can’t be.

He’ll deactivate devices, turn off the water or light, even lock up all the food items so you can become deprived.

Will also make the house extremely hot or cold and remove any blankets/air conditioning.

You liked your stuffed animals and nicknacks? How about your prized possessions? Well too bad. He’ll throw them all in a box and hide them somewhere.

The bedroom is emptied and if you need to use the bathroom, you can pee in a cup. His luxury soaps and toilet are only meant for him at the moment.

Can be rather verbally abusive as well. You won’t be able to forget that “he’s the prize”, princess. He gave you everything, and he’ll take it right back. You only get things if you’re good.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

This all depends on you, chica…

How loving are you towards him? Are you constantly giving him such a hard time? Do you reject every advance and sweet moment that he tried to give you?

If not, he’s a saint. He’ll ignore your bad behavior and cut you some slack. He’ll find your antics to be more endearing than anything.

If so, he’s not so patient. Why cut you so much slack when you push him out everyday. You’re not even trying for him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

I don’t believe so. At most…he might think, “gosh did I really just capture her?”, at first.

But then when he really thinks about it, the pros outweigh the cons. He gets to have you all to himself. You’ll learn to love him, he usually grows on people.

Besides, the authorities would never believe that a super star like him, would ever kidnap some random chick, like you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Okay I have mentioned that he’s a little shit and finds it a bit funny when you cry…but isolation is something he hates.

Yeah like go ahead lock yourself in the bedroom for about an hour because you’re upset. Anytime after that, he’s kicking down the door.

He brought you here to spend time with him. You’re not going to waste away in some closet. Besides he’s worried that you’re plotting to jump out the window or something. He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself either.

Trying to distance yourself from him won’t work out for you. If you sit on the opposite side of the couch or refuse to cuddle in bed, he’s handcuffing himself to you so that you have no choice but to interact with him.

This is kind of sick but sometimes when you’re having one of your moments he might start live streaming just to get you to stop. He’ll flip the script and act like he’s the one hurting. He knows you don’t like the spotlight and are too scared to stand up for yourself because his fans won’t believe you.

You’ll usually give into what he wants and apologize to him until he turns it off.

“See…that wasn’t so hard. I won’t have to include my fans in our problems if you didn’t act out like this. I just get so frustrated that I have no choice but to put you on blast.”

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He has quite a few. Picking on his insecurities and soft spots are the best ways to manipulate him.

Sweet talk to him, make him think you’ve finally realized how much he loves you. How much you truly do need him to survive. He’s given you a whole new life for the better and you’re sorry for not seeing that sooner.

Play on this for quite a while until he lets his guard down…just pray he doesn’t catch onto your manipulation before you can get far enough away.

He’ll never let up on you when he finds you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

I don’t believe he’d beat on you.

I do agree with some other writers that he would threaten you with violence or even put something to your throat but I can’t see him going through with it.

He just wanted to scare you into loving him.

“Come on, babe. I’ll put it down if you tell me how much you love me? Hmm. How about that you won’t ever look in another man’s eyes ever again.”

I do think at times he’ll be extremely rough with you. You might even end up with scratches or a bloody nose. I don’t think any of those were purposeful. You were just fighting him so much that it happened.

If he’s super pissed with you, hair and ear pulling would definitely be on the bingo card. (Possibly biting? Or are you guys like number 5 and find that weird?)

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Oh so badly but only if you won't be cooperative with him.

He needs your attention, love and support. He needs to have every single inch of you. All your energy and time should only go to him. He won’t budge on just some 50%,..he needs it all. Trust me when I say that he knows if you’re not giving enough.

Whatever gets the best results out of you he will continue to do at full intensity until you give into him.

You’ll learn to forgive and forget about all the things he’s done. One day you’ll see the bigger picture.

Johnny can’t handle rejection and has never been one to give up. If it’ll take years to break you, so be it. You’ll be the best award he’ll ever win in his lifetime.

#headcanon #yandere johnny cage #mortal kombat x reader #oneshot #yandere imagines #johnny cage x reader #yandere mortal kombat #yandere headcanons #johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #johnny cage mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #lui kang x reader #yandere kung lao #bi han x reader

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lizzyiii · 12 days ago

Text

His Darling (3)

pairing | loki x fem!reader

word count | 5k words

taglist | if you'd like to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC

summary | you and loki have a one on one, and suddenly strange dreams seem to find you, ones of a mysterious man and a different time

note | language, violence

a/n | i really enjoyed writing this chapter. Also bare in mind I'm writing literally from the show, merely adding a character insert, so if you don't like the way certain characters are written cough (sylvie) cough, just know that this is directly from the show.

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ - ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

“May I see your hands?”

Your gaze snapped to Loki, his tone unexpectedly serious against the backdrop of the ship’s creaking timbers. After hours of searching and navigating through chicago, you had miraculously pinpointed Victor's coordinates.

The relief of discovery was dulled by the exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs as you leaned against the deck, the salty sea air doing little to revive your spirits.

With a weary sigh, you extended your hands to him, your fingers trembling slightly. The light scrapes from when you’d climbed out of the lake were still evident, reminders of how chaotic the day had become.

Loki took your hands in his, his grip warm and surprisingly comforting. A soft green light enveloped your wounds as he concentrated, his magic flowing into you like a gentle tide, soothing the rawness and stinging pain.

You could feel his energy mingling with yours, But when you finally pulled your hands away, the familiar throb of a migraine surged back, sharper than before, as if reminding you that the fight wasn’t over.

“I want to go home,” you murmured, the fatigue clear in your voice. The longing for the simplicity of your life back in your world.

Loki’s voice, laced with guilt, followed you. “I think perhaps we should have let you stay at the TVA.”

You snorted, shaking your head incredulously. “You think?” The sarcasm dripped from your words, a defense mechanism honed by endless encounters with chaos. The ship swayed gently beneath your feet, the rhythmic lapping of waves a distant echo to the turmoil swirling in your mind.

“Sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves lapping against the ship. “I turn into quite the bitch when I’m tired and overstimulated.” It wasn’t an apology so much as a self-deprecating admission, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Loki, leaning casually against the railing, tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but not in a judgmental way.

There was something understanding in his gaze, something softer than you’d expect from a god who had wreaked havoc across the universe. “Understandable,” he replied, his voice smooth, tinged with an odd empathy. “This situation is... a lot.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh, brushing a hand through your disheveled hair. “That’s the understatement of the century. But no—being patient is important. Nobody wants to be around a bitch the entire time.”

Loki’s eyes never left you, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t pity, but something... tender? “That’s an interesting perspective,” he said slowly, as if he were weighing each word.

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm golden light across the ship's deck, the early rays glinting off the water like diamonds.

You raised a brow, unwilling to let the mood get too heavy. “What, you expected me to be a diva all the time?” Your voice was light, but your exhaustion was starting to catch up with you.

He tilted his head, studying you with that infuriatingly calm gaze. “No, I didn’t. But there’s something admirable about how you handle everything.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Well, I’m not sure ‘admirable’ is the right word. Barely keeping it together is more accurate.” You shifted slightly, trying to keep the conversation flowing so you wouldn’t collapse from sheer exhaustion. “Did you enjoy my concert?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, though it was more subdued than you expected. “I’ve never been to one before,” he admitted, as though the idea of thousands of Midgardians screaming and jumping to music was a foreign concept to him. “I enjoyed the part where I listened to you sing. Not so much the part being surrounded by sweaty, screaming mortals.”

That brought a soft laugh from you, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Sounds about right. Though, at least you made it through.”

He paused, as if considering whether to admit something. “I enjoyed the first song the most.”

Your smile softened as you looked away for a moment. “That one’s special,” you said quietly. “It was the first song I ever wrote. Always had a place in my heart.”

Loki watched you with interest, his gaze growing more intent. “What is it about?”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment. It wasn’t exactly casual small talk material. “It’s a bit heavy,” you confessed, turning your gaze back to him with a sheepish smile. “Not exactly the sort of thing you talk about with someone you’ve known for all of... what? A few hours?”

He seemed almost amused by your reluctance, though he kept his expression neutral. “I’ve lived for centuries, Darling,” he said, that familiar mischief flickering in his eyes. “A few hours is more than enough time.”

You smirked, not letting him get the upper hand. “I’ll tell you when we’ve known each other for a day,” you teased, the smile in your voice clear as day.

Loki opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short as a genuine smile crept onto his face. “A full day, hmm? I’ll hold you to that.”

You couldn't help yourself. Curiosity gnawed at you, and despite knowing it might be stepping on thin ice, you asked anyway. “So, what’s the deal with you and Sylvie?” The question slipped out, your voice intentionally light, but the underlying edge of suspicion was hard to miss.

Loki’s features tightened slightly, his blue eyes narrowing, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “What deal? There is no deal,” he replied, though the defensiveness in his tone was obvious.

You tilted your head, a skeptical look crossing your face as you watched him closely. “Really?” you asked, dragging out the word a little too pointedly.

“Because from where I was standing—in the middle of all that chaos—it sure seemed like there was a lot of tension in that Ferris wheel compartment before I got blasted out of it.”

Loki’s jaw tensed, and though he tried to remain composed, you caught it—just the faintest flicker of something in his eyes. Unease? Hesitation? He quickly masked it with his usual cool demeanor, but it was too late.

Loki sighed, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. “It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice lower now, avoiding your gaze.

You tilted your head further, watching him closely. “It always is, isn’t it?” you said, but this time, there was no bite to your words. Just curiosity....

Mobius plopped down beside you, his usual easy-going nature in full swing as he chimed in with a casual tone, “Loki and Sylvie? Yeah, that’s a bit of a complicated relationship.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but the moment the words left his mouth, your jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Sorry—what?” Your eyes widened, your shock almost comical. “That’s new,” you blurted out, your voice tight with a mix of surprise and discomfort.

An awkward laugh escaped your lips as you pressed them into a thin smile, your mind racing to process the information.

“You know, I actually don’t think I needed to know that,” you muttered, feeling a strange, unfamiliar twist in your gut, like you’d just uncovered something you weren’t quite sure how to feel about.

“We’re not in a relationship,” Loki cut in quickly, his voice sharp with irritation. He shot Mobius an exasperated look, his brows pulling together in a tight line. Clearly, this was not the kind of conversation he wanted to have.

“Really?” You cocked your head, eyeing him with suspicion. “And here I was thinking it was some sort of weird emotional sibling dynamic,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though deep down, there was a flicker of something more—a hint of unease. “My bad.”

Loki’s lips twitched in frustration, but he said nothing. His silence was louder than words, though, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the unspoken tension between the two of them.

“Seriously, what in the Targaryen is this then?” you joked, your voice laced with playful sarcasm as you tried to brush off the awkwardness. But the joke landed heavier than you intended, a bitter edge clinging to it.

Mobius frowned, genuinely confused. “What’s a Targaryen?”

You blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by the confusion in his voice. “It’s just… a family with dragons,” you said, waving it off with a strained smile.

Even as you laughed it off, that strange, restless feeling refused to let go—a tug at the back of your mind. There was something about Loki that lingered, something you weren’t quite ready to confront.

You glanced at him, bathed in the warm morning light, his figure outlined in shades of gold that almost made him look like a figure from legend. He was every bit the god people whispered about, with that noble bearing and gaze that seemed to hold lifetimes of secrets.

You tried to brush it off as a simple infatuation, because he was indeed, an attractive man. You’d had a hundred fleeting crushes before; surely this was just another. Tomorrow, this feeling would be gone. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you shifted slightly, resting your head on your arms, eyelids growing heavy until, finally, sleep pulled you under.

Dreams swept over you like a thick fog, but they felt different somehow, as if they belonged to another time, another life. You could hear voices, though the faces remained hidden in shadow.

“Where have you been?” The male voice was vaguely familiar, the tone edging on impatience.

“With your mother,” came your own voice, though you couldn’t remember the conversation. You sounded brighter—full of some distant energy.

“Why?” the voice asked, confused.

“Oh, I always have tea with the Queen,” you answered, your tone filled with cheekiness. “We discuss the usual: my magic, how I’m becoming a brilliant young lady, and, of course, how I’m the daughter she never had.”

A scoff followed. “You exaggerate.”

“I don’t, I swear, darling,” you teased back, the fondness in your words almost startling. It felt as if you knew this person deeply.

There was a pause, then a serious tone, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” you asked, your tone dropping, sensing the shift.

“A betrothal,” he said, his voice heavy with something that almost sounded like hesitance.

Before the words could settle, a gentle hand shook your shoulder, pulling you back to the present. You blinked your eyes open, and Mobius was looking at you with a small smile. “D, rise and shine. Time to wake up.”

You pushed yourself upright, the fragments of the dream still lingering in your mind, leaving you with a curious, aching feeling you couldn’t place.

The rocking of the ship had only just faded from your bones when a new, sharper pain made itself known—a pounding in your head that felt as though it clawed its way from the inside out.

Even as you reached Timely’s warehouse, the pain seemed to twist and deepen, coursing through every part of you until you could hardly hear Mobius and Loki’s voices over the waves of it.

Your feet slowed as they moved ahead, and you tried to catch your breath, gripping the cold wall to ground yourself. It wasn’t a typical headache; it was as if something within you was desperate to be unleashed, like a rising tide threatening to burst through the dam.

No amount of focus seemed to hold it back, and by the time you forced yourself inside the warehouse, Renslayer had Timely in her sights, weapon drawn.

“Move any closer, and he’s done,” Renslayer warned, her voice tense.

Your vision blurred as Mobius spoke, “Stop, Ravonna. Is this the free will you wanted? Look at me. You’ve lost your way.”

But even his words became muffled under the weight of the migraine, a storm that was building into something relentless. Each heartbeat seemed to pulse through you like a wave of energy, and the ache surged, making your knees buckle slightly.

You clutched at your head, but the pain within you didn’t stop—if anything, it was only growing.

You barely registered the blast that knocked you and everyone else off their feet, the impact ringing in your ears. When you lifted your head, Sylvie had appeared, stepping toward Timely with her machete drawn. She looked ready to finish him, but just as she raised her arm, the pain in your head hit its peak—a final burst of energy that clawed its way to the surface.

You couldn’t hold it back any longer. A sharp groan escaped your lips, and everyone’s eyes snapped toward you. Loki’s face was a mix of confusion and concern, his gaze fixed on you as he called out, “Darling?”

But you could barely hear him as the power overwhelmed you, ripping free in a yell that echoed through the warehouse. A pulse of energy exploded outward from you, shattering the windows and sending everyone crashing to the floor.

And as the last of the energy left you, darkness crept in, and you felt yourself slip into unconsciousness, the echo of Loki’s voice the last thing you heard.

When the energy had dissipated, Loki rushed to your side, his gaze wide with alarm as he knelt down and gently lifted you into his arms. His expression softened, worry etched deeply into his features as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, clearly shaken by what he’d just witnessed.

Before he could fully process, Victor Timely’s voice shattered the moment. He was facing down Sylvie, her machete leveled dangerously at his throat.

“Get him out of here,” she finally ordered, her voice hard, though her eyes flickered with a mix of hesitation and resolve.

Mobius didn’t need further prompting; he opened a time door nearby, his face unreadable as he took in your still form cradled in Loki’s arms. He and Loki exchanged a look—an understanding, a silent agreement—and without another word, Mobius gestured for them to go through.

With careful movements, Loki lifted you fully into his arms, feeling the weight of your limp form against him. The surge of energy you’d released—it was unmistakable. You had magic, and not just any magic. It was powerful, raw, and brimming with something he hadn’t seen in quite some time.

Together, with Timely, Mobius, and you still unconscious in his arms, Loki stepped through the time door and back into the TVA.

In the depths of your dream, that same familiar voice echoed softly, stirring something warm and distant within you.

“What would I do without you, darling?” he said, his tone playful, yet laced with something deeper.

You smirked, even in your dream, responding with that familiar sassy charm, “Die, most likely. A thousand deaths, I suppose.”

The man’s laugh was rich and smooth, almost like a melody, and it filled you with a feeling of comfort you couldn’t quite place. You felt yourself smiling, savoring the warmth of that laugh, before it all began to slip away, consciousness pulling you back to the present.

Slowly, you blinked awake, the dim lighting and metallic surroundings of the TVA coming into focus. A throbbing ache pulsed at your temples as your vision cleared, and soon you found yourself gazing up into the concerned faces of Mobius and Loki. Both looked a mix of worried and… perhaps relieved?

“What happened?” you murmured, frowning as the remnants of your dream slipped away.

“You released an extraordinary magical energy,” Loki replied, his hand steady on your shoulder as he helped you sit up. His gaze was searching, as though trying to decipher something he didn’t quite understand yet.

You frowned, rubbing at your temple, piecing together flashes of the confrontation with Renslayer. “I’m sure that was Sylvie’s doing,” you said slowly, though doubt flickered in the back of your mind. It was like trying to recall something half-forgotten yet seared into your bones.

Mobius shook his head, clicking his tongue thoughtfully. “The first blast? Yeah, that was Sylvie. But the second… well, that was all you.”

You blinked, trying to process that, and as you did, Loki’s intense gaze bore into you, his blue eyes filled with a quiet certainty. “Which means…” He paused, his voice lowering, “…you’re not entirely human.”

You pursed your lips, looking down as you mulled over your next words. “I kind of… more or less knew that,” you admitted, the weight of those words feeling heavier than expected.

Mobius snapped his fingers in front of your face, breaking the silence as both men leaned in, their expressions sharp with curiosity. “Normalize explaining, please,” he pressed, quirking a brow.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the table to stand, trying to avoid their expectant gazes. But the moment you tried to balance yourself, a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

Your vision blurred, and you swayed, feeling yourself start to fall. Just as quickly, Loki’s arm wrapped around you, steadying you and guiding you gently back onto the table.

“Easy now,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm, his hand lingering at your back as you steadied yourself.

Clearing your throat, you gave a small shrug, not quite meeting their eyes. “When I escaped the TVA and got to Earth, I tried one of those heritage tests a year later, just for fun… thought maybe I’d get some clarity on where I come from.”

Mobius’ eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his head. “Hold on—so you knew we weren’t just TVA-made creations?” His tone was incredulous.

“Sort of figured that out,” you replied with a deadpan expression, “when I got Mark from HR as my Uber driver once.”

Mobius snorted, while Loki’s gaze grew more intent, his eyes narrowing slightly. You cleared your throat again, bracing yourself.

“When I did the test, though, it came back… strange. No human DNA, not even close.” You leaned back, giving a wry smile. “And trust me, I had to pay a small fortune to keep the doctors from going public with that little revelation.”

You noticed the surprised glances exchanged between Mobius and Loki, but you waved them off dismissively, smacking your lips as you shifted the conversation. “So, is Timely dead?”

Mobius furrowed his brow in response, shaking his head. “Nope, he’s inside with OB.”

Feeling a surge of determination, you tried standing again. This time, your legs cooperated, and you found your footing. “Well, gentlemen, I do think I should be there then.”

After a quick change out of the uncomfortable corset gown into something far more practical—a tight-fitting black cotton skirt paired with a delicate, patterned top—you joined the two men. The familiar fabric felt comforting against your skin, a welcome change that allowed you to breathe easier. Together, the three of you made your way back to OB's lab, your heart racing with anticipation.

As you entered, Loki wasted no time, calling out, “OB, how’s it going?”

“Uh, we have a… we have a good plan,” OB stammered, a hint of nervous energy crackling in the air. He led you toward his machine, enthusiasm battling with anxiety. “It’s a pretty good plan.”

He motioned for you to gather around as he brought forth a mini Loom. The contraption was a jumble of wires and painted models, its haphazard design reflecting the urgency of the moment.

“Here’s a model I mocked up of the Loom. Forgive the shoddy and slapdash work. It’s not to scale. I only got one coat of paint on there. I haven’t been able to carve out figures to represent all of us,” he explained, gesturing animatedly.

You listened to OB intently, your gaze fixed on the chaotic array of machinery around the lab. The air hummed with anticipation and tension, every ticking clock and buzzing light amplifying the gravity of the moment.

Just as OB detailed the intricacies of the Loom’s mechanics, your attention was drawn to a figure in the corner of the room—a sight you hadn’t expected.

“What’s she doing here?” you blurted out, confusion etching your features as you shot Sylvie a dirty look. Her presence felt like a dark cloud looming over the proceedings.

Sylvie crossed her arms defensively, her glare piercing as she met your eyes with equal intensity. Before you could say anything else, Loki's voice filled the space, calm yet authoritative. “Sylvie wants to help.”

You raised an eyebrow, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “So we’re just going to forget how she almost killed me and Victor?” A hollow laugh escaped your lips, disbelief coloring your words. “Alright then.”

Loki opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, but Victor interjected, pointing toward another Loom. It resembled his initial design but with distinct modifications. “The Loom,” he said, his tone a mix of pride and apprehension.

OB, suddenly looking bashful, scratched the back of his neck. “I’m honestly embarrassed that Victor’s here to see it,” he admitted, his eyes darting away.

“You’re being hard on yourself. It looks great,” Mobius chimed in, his encouraging voice cutting through the tension.

"All right. What’s the plan?" Loki asked, his brows furrowed, an air of determination wrapping around him.

OB stepped forward, gesturing animatedly as he grabbed a figure to demonstrate on the mini Loom. "It’s simple," he explained, his voice steady with the weight of urgency. "One of us will have to take our Throughput Multiplier down the gangway. Load it into the launcher, then hit the green button to launch it towards the Loom."

He paused, letting the gravity of the task sink in. "It will dock with the Loom, scaling its capacity to manage the backlog of branches that was created when…" His tone shifted, dripping with sarcasm, "someone killed He Who Remains and released all those branches and ruined my life."

You subtly shot a glare at Sylvie, who stood with arms crossed, her expression a mixture of defiance and guilt.

Loki leaned in, curiosity piqued. "Hang on. What’s the connection between the Throughput Multiplier and the Loom?"

"The rings of the Loom aren’t wide enough," Casey chimed in, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"That’s correct," OB confirmed, his tone urgent. "We need to make the rings bigger so more branches can fit through. But there’s one gigantic problem."

Loki tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. "What’s that?"

“There is much, much more Temporal Radiation in here than there was when you went out there, Mobius,” OB stated, his voice thick with concern as he adjusted his glasses, eyes darting nervously between the group. The tension in the lab grew heavier, wrapping around you like a fog.

“More?” Mobius echoed incredulously, his brows furrowing. He inhaled sharply, then turned to Loki, determination etched on his face. “Okay, well, I mean, Loki’s really gonna have to hoof it then, right?”

Loki frowned, his ocean eyes widening in surprise as he met Mobius’s gaze. “Hang on a second. Why is it suddenly me having to hoof it?” He crossed his arms, an unmistakable petulance creeping into his posture.

“Because it’s your turn,” Mobius replied simply, shrugging as if it were the most logical conclusion.

“Says who?” Loki huffed, his frustration palpable. “Why? Why is it suddenly me?”

“Clearly, this isn’t me,” Mobius retorted.

You couldn’t help but watch their playful banter unfold, an amused smile creeping across your lips. “Just because it isn’t you doesn’t mean it isn’t me,” Loki added.

Mobius pointed to the miniature figure that OB had placed on the mini Loom. “It’s got your shape.”

“It’s got my shape?” Loki echoed incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be this indestructible god,” you chimed in, unable to resist the urge to tease him further.

Loki turned to you, mock betrayal etched across his face. “Oh, I am, Darling,” he said, puffing out his chest slightly. “I most certainly am. But the fact remains—it’s a suit. It could be anybody.”

“It's wearing a helmet,” Sylvie interjected, irritation lacing her voice. “Doesn’t look like anyone.”

“Uh…” OB interjected, adjusting his glasses as he gathered his thoughts, his gaze darting between the group. “It doesn’t matter who it is. It’s doable. But this person just needs to be… woosh super-fast.”

“Okay, great. So, what are we waiting for? Let’s do this!” Sylvie clapped her hands together. You had to restrain yourself from scoffing; the situation was complicated enough without her unwittingly playing the role of instigator in all of this.

“There’s another problem,” Casey chimed in, a hint of concern creasing his brow.

“What’s that?” Loki asked, exasperation edging into his tone. He ran a hand through his dark hair, clearly growing impatient.

“This whole plan is only theoretical because our Throughput Multiplier doesn’t yet work,” OB replied softly, his voice filled with uncertainty.

“Why?” Loki pressed, his curiosity piqued.

“Wait,” Victor interrupted, raising a finger as if he’d just made a brilliant discovery. Everyone turned to him, intrigued. “Let me guess. The Loom’s temporal decay outpaces your Multiplier’s throughput capabilities.”

“Every time, yeah. How did you know that?” Casey shot back, surprised.

“Because I had the same problem with my Loom… until I made this.” Victor produced a small device from his pocket, holding it up like a trophy. “It’s a prototype. Still.”

Loki took a cautious step closer, narrowing his eyes at the device. “OB, it’ll work?”

“Integrating them, if that would even work, would take a long time,” OB replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He rubbed his temples as if trying to fend off a brewing headache from all the possibilities swirling around them.

Victor’s confidence, however, was unwavering. “Mr. Ouroboros,” he began, locking eyes with OB, “if anyone can make this happen, it’s you and me.” He extended his hand, and OB grasped it firmly.

Then OB turned his gaze to you, a hint of hope igniting in his expression as he added. “I think Darling could help too.”

Your heart fluttered at the mention of your name, a rush of excitement coursing through you. A surprised smile broke across your face, lighting up the dimly lit lab. “I’d love to, gentlemen. Just give me five,” you replied, your voice a harmonious blend of lightness and determination.

As you walked out of the room alongside Mobius, Loki, and Sylvie, Mobius turned to you, his trademark grin appearing as he casually murmured, “All right, let’s have a little pie while we wait.”

The mere thought of pie sent a warm flutter through your stomach, a brief distraction from the chaos surrounding you. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, Sylvie’s irritated voice sliced through the moment like a knife. “Pie?”

Mobius blinked, clearly taken aback by her reaction. “Yeah?” he said, confusion lacing his tone.

Sylvie crossed her arms, her frustration palpable. “What is the matter with you? You dragged me back here begging for help, so you must have some idea of what’s happening. Everything is turning to shit, and you want to leave it to them while we go and have some pie? Great idea, Mobius,” she spat, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Sylvie, wait—” Loki interjected, his voice calm but strained, trying to bridge the rising tension.

“No, I won’t wait,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. Turning to Mobius, she continued with a scathing edge, “Come on. Let’s go and get some pie. Why not? It’s a great idea. Clocks don’t tick at the TVA, do they? You found out you’re a Variant, and you haven’t even looked, have you? It’s just another bad day at the office for you. Timelines are just lines on a monitor. Doesn’t matter if a few disappear. Because you’ve never bothered to look if one of them was yours. Does it even matter that the branches are dying?”

As she launched into her diatribe, you could feel your eye twitching at her relentless tone. With a huff of exasperation, you let out a huge scoff, your irritation bubbling over. “Because of you, sweetheart,” you shot back, your voice steady despite the tension.

Sylvie’s gaze snapped to you, narrowed and simmering with defiance. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, excuse you,” you replied, your tone firm as you stepped forward, undeterred. “Last I checked, no one dragged you here kicking and screaming. You came back of your own free will. And ever since, all you’ve done is complain, rather than help fix this situation that, frankly, you caused.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t see you helping,” she shot back.

“Oh, I’m about to,” you said, unbothered. “Once I’m in the right mindset, of course.” You held her gaze, unflinching. “And you know what? I think I’ve earned myself a bit of fucking pie after nearly drowning—thanks to you, mind you. And, FYI, I think I might have a bit of aquaphobia now. So maybe, just maybe, you could stop trying to be the victim so bad and actually do something useful instead of standing around, casting blame like it’s a sport.”

For a split second, Sylvie just looked you up and down, her jaw clenched. Then, with a dismissive huff, she turned on her heel and stormed off without a word. You rolled your eyes, not particularly fazed, but noticed Loki take a step to follow her.

“Wait,” you interjected, your tone edged with incredulity. “You’re really going to run after her after that little tantrum?”

Loki hesitated, torn between you and Sylvie’s retreating form. His brow furrowed, conflicted, but you shook your head, irritation flaring as you let out a heavy sigh then you reached for Mobius instead. He still looked solemn, her words clearly weighing on him.

“Come on, Mobius,” you said, slipping your arm through his with a gentle tug. “Let’s get that pie. I could use a bit of sweetness after all this.”

Mobius glanced down, managing a small, grateful smile as he nodded. You gave him a reassuring squeeze, just a little as you led him away, not looking back.

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