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ozzgin · 3 months

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Hello!

🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.

Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?

I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?

The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.

Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually

Sincerely

-🌟

Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;

Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)

Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.

“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.

“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”

“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.

The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.

The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.

“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.

You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.

You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.

And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.

This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.

“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”

You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.

“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.

“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.

“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.

Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.

Unfortunately, there is no time for that.

The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.

The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.

“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.

“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”

He stares in confusion.

“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.

“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”

Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.

“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”

He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.

“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.

This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.

“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”

What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.

“Sure. I know a better place, though.”

Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.

“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”

“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”

“Excuse me?”

Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.

“H-hey, what did you mean-”

The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.

You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.

“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.

The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.

“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.

Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.

“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”

Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.

Your bodyguard truly knows you best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic #yandere male #obsessive love #female reader

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kingofmyborrowedheart · 1 year

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Why is the first day back from break always the worst???

#payton: goes to college #I had to get everything for the slam #the student activities person spelled my name wrong on the poster and I told her it was wrong and she said she’d fix it and then sent it out #without fixing it so on the two posters I hung up myself I changed it 🙃#it’s a big pet peeve of mine and it’s one I’ve always dealt with #went to the library to hang up a poster and ended up spending an hour talking to my friends #I didn’t get to work on as much of the stuff I wanted because I spent so much time at the library #came back to my room after getting the last prize for one of the baskets and took a brief snooze #had an incredibly shitty dinner made up of essentially bread fries and ice cream since my wrap was bad #one of my judges might not be able to attend tomorrow night which isn’t the best but we can have two judges I guess #a friend did come help me assemble the baskets which I greatly appreciated #I also have to set up an interview for work and do an article sometime this week or next #it’s fine I’m just going to probably snap at some point this week which is fine #I have so much to do but like not enough time for everything and it’s ✨stressing me out✨

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eilidh-eternal · 5 months

Text

Ok, I need to get into a fluffy mindset to write for Johnny and Simon so here’s some poly!bluecollar!141

Contractor 141 with reader who’s hired them to do the renovations on your house/business and you insist on bringing the guys like, drinks and sandwich platters each time you drop by to check on the progress. The whole thing is terribly behind schedule because every time you stop by with little gifts for the crew they ask if you wanna learn how to level concrete, how to frame a wall, how to dry wall. You always say yes, always want to learn a new skill to make yourself more marketable. And they love the excuse to be a little touchy with you, to stand chest to back with you and show you how to use the table saw, to keep a steadying hand on the small of your back when you climb up the ladder to mud the drywall after it’s been hung.

The sight of you, this white collar worker who never has a hair out of place, is always so perfectly put together and speaks to them with the confidence of every project manager they’ve ever worked with, is getting down and dirty with them and using all the power tools so confidently, and it just gets them all so fucking hard…

you guys know where this is going. The build is a good 6 months behind schedule, maybe a year, because your original design plans aren’t big enough for you and the four of them.

The shower definitely needs expanding and you need a much bigger bathtub—they’re big guys, love. And the fridge you picked out? Forget it, you’re gonna need a commercial grade fridge and freezer to keep enough food on hand for your big hard working boys. But don’t worry, John will have custom cabinetry done so you can still get that integrated look with all the appliances. Simon goes with you to pick out the bed and furniture because poor baby has the worst back out of all of them and needs an extra firm mattress, and he’s the tallest and you would feel just awful if things aren’t big enough for him. Gaz and Soap both go with you to pick out paint colors, counter tops, all the different tile and flooring, and all the pretty detailed things, taking notes and making sure that they have or can get their hands on all the tools and materials necessary to bring your vision to life.

And you best believe all four of them are carrying you across the threshold when it’s done, that they’ve had everything all assembled and put together and ready for you to christen every surface, every piece of furniture, in your new house with your boys.

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robertreich · 2 months

Video

youtube

How Trump is Following Hitler's Playbook

You’ve heard Trump’s promise:

TRUMP: I’m going to be a dictator for one day.

History shows there are no “one-day” dictatorships. When democracies fall, they typically fall completely.

In a previous video, I laid out the defining traits of fascism and how MAGA Republicans embody them. But how could Trump — or someone like him — actually turn America into a fascist state? Here’s how in five steps.

Step 1: Use threats of violence to gain power

Hitler and Mussolini relied on their vigilante militias to intimidate voters and local officials. We watched Trump try to do the same in 2020.

TRUMP: Proud Boys, stand back and stand by.

Republican election officials testified to the threats they faced when they refused Trump’s demands to falsify the election results.

RAFFENSPERGER: My email, my cell phone was doxxed.

RUSTY BOWERS: They have had video panel trucks with videos of me proclaiming me to be a pedophile.

GABRIEL STERLING: A 20-something tech in Gwinnett County today has death threats and a noose put out saying he should be hung for treason.

If the next election is close, threats to voters and election officials could be enough to sabotage it.

Step 2: Consolidate power

After taking office, a would-be fascist must turn every arm of government into a tool of the party. One of Hitler’s first steps was to take over the civil service, purging it of non-Nazis.

In October of 2020, Trump issued his own executive order that would have enabled him to fire tens of thousands of civil servants and replace them with MAGA loyalists. He never got to act on it, but he’s now promising to apply it to the entire civil service.

That’s become the centerpiece of something called Project 2025, a presidential agenda assembled by MAGA Republicans, that would, as the AP put it, “dismantle the US government and replace it with Trump’s vision.”

Step 3: Establish a police state

Hitler used the imaginary threat of “the poison of foreign races” to justify taking control of the military and police, placing both under his top general, and granting law-enforcement powers to his civilian militias.

Now Trump is using the same language to claim he needs similar powers to deal with immigrants.

Trump plans to deploy troops within the U.S. to conduct immigration raids and round up what he estimates to be 18 million people who would be placed in mass-detention camps while their fate is decided.

And even though crime is actually down across the nation, Trump is citing an imaginary crime wave to justify sending troops into blue cities and states against the will of governors and mayors.

Trump insiders say he plans to invoke the Insurrection Act to have the military crush civilian protests. We saw a glimpse of that in 2020, when Trump deployed the National Guard against peaceful protesters outside the White House.

And with promises to pardon January 6 criminals and stop prosecutions of right-wing domestic terrorists, Trump would empower groups like the Proud Boys to act as MAGA enforcers.

Step 4: Jail the opposition

In classic dictatorial fashion, Trump is now openly threatening to prosecute his opponents.

TRUMP: if I happen to be president and I see somebody who’s doing well and beating me very badly, I say, ‘Go down and indict them.’ They’d be out of business.

And he’s looking to remake the Justice Department into a tool for his personal vendettas.

TRUMP: As we completely overhaul the federal Department of Justice and FBI, we will also launch sweeping civil rights investigations into Marxist local district attorneys.

In the model of Hitler and Mussolini, Trump describes his opponents as subhuman.

TRUMP: …the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country…

Step 5: Undermine the free press

As Hitler well understood, a fascist needs to control the flow of information. Trump has been attacking the press for years.

And he’s threatening to punish news outlets whose coverage he dislikes.

He has helped to reduce trust in the media to such a historic low that his supporters now view him as their most trusted source of information.

Within a democracy, we may often have leaders we don’t like. But we have the power to change them — at the ballot box and through public pressure. Once fascism takes hold, those freedoms are gone and can’t easily be won back.

We must recognize the threat of fascism when it appears, and do everything in our power to stop it.

#youtube #videos #fascism #Donald Trump #election #video #politics

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nunalastor · 3 months

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I have a lot of ideas, mainly duckiedeer tho, so this might be long, feel free to ignore it if you don't want to read it, lmao.

One where Alastor is greyromantic, so he has never felt romantically towards anybody.

Lucifer moves in and their bickering just increases, and he does what he has always used to do with his rivals and he starts flirting with Alastor in whatever way will piss the radio demon off the most. With the time Alastor catches feelings and at first he doesn't get what they are, but after seeing the way Husk and Angel act he gets it, and he hates it. The solution? Make their bickering everyone's problem by being as loud as he can, to convince himself he still hates him and he's just confused.

Lucifer catches feelings as well a while after, he realizes after noticing the sarcastic flirting is losing the sarcasm, he tries and fails to ignore the feeling, and just increases when he goes to bed and can't help but think about Alastor's seemingly redder face, from a fairly adorable pick up line he tried earlier.

Now you have two idiots aggressively pinning like highschool girls and both very angry with themselves about it, both try to get rid of the feelings just to end up falling deeper.

This is just Alastor, you know, since he was alive during WWI, I thought maybe he fought on it. Before WWI he didn't have any immoral tendencies, he was just weird, then he fought on WWI, and the feeling of killing someone sunk on him. By the end of the war is when he actually became a serial killer.

Back to radioapple.

Charlie gave Lucifer a 50,000 piece puzzle once they finished the hotel, the picture was a mountain of rubber ducks, so you could tell it took him a lot to get any of it done since the pieces where all really similar with mainly yellow. They placed it on a big table near the bar where everyone usually hung out, so if anyone wanted to help the were welcomed to, he sat there for hours everyday for a few months trying to advance with it.

One day Alastor, pretty annoyed that the puzzle was taking all of his pathetic love interest arch nemesis’ attention, he did the only logical solution which was helping him out with the thing. This helped to:

1. Understand what was so appealing about the thing that Lucifer wasn't interested on hating him as much anymore.

2. Bicker with him as they assembled the thing.

The plan backfired, Alastor ended up loving the puzzle just as much as Lucifer, and now they have something to bond over. Neither knows how to feel about it.

Lucifer gets really depressed from time to time, and he gets nightmares.

He used to cuddle Charlie and Lilith before when this happened, but Lilith wasn't here anymore and Charlie slept with Vaggie, so he couldn't just ask to sleep with them like he was their child. So somehow he ended up on Alastor's room and cuddled up to him, and now it was just something they did every time Lucifer had nightmares, if somebody knew this happened they didn't dare to bring it up.

Subsequently, one day Alastor just came up to Lucifer and gifted him a giant Duck plushie to cuddle up to the nights he wasn't at the hotel, the duck had a duck-adapted version of Alastor's outfit and it smelled like the raio demon.

Lucifer keeps a radio hidden on his room, he listens to Alastor's broadcast when he feels low, nobody knows about this.

Alastor keeps an apple shaped ornament on his radio station where he can see it while broadcasting, Lucifer keeps an Alastor duckie on his workshop.

Giving the “Alastor gets a celestial wound after Adam's fight that can only be cured by Lucifer” trend a twist for my slowburn fan ass, Lucifer takes several days to heal Alastor's wound, at first, he doesn't let Lucifer come near his body, which only slows the process, but then theystart bonding and he slowly starts to let Lucifer make physical contact with him, first they are quick touches through his clothes, then he let's Lucifer linger his hand directly over his wound.

Alastor drags Lucifer to overlord meetings, Rosie is delighted to meet him the first time he goes to one, then the three of them just have their own private conversation while ignoring wherever topic is being discussed that day.

Husk asks Angel out solely because he sees how pathetic Alastor and Lucifer look pinning on eachother like that, and refuses to look life that himself.

10.

Lucifer and Alastor leave gifts in eachother's rooms on increasingly unhinged places (e.g: inside the pillows, taped to the ceiling) Alastor makes a point to leave them on tall places as well, with petty notes attached on them (e.g: Bambi looking ass). They deny the gifts being actually meaningful, despite the presents being sweet (e.g: chocolates, books, scented candles with eachother's favorite smells).

11.

Lucifer loves sweet and sour flavors (chocolate milk, apple juice, sour candy), while Alastor prefers salty and bitter (black coffee, unsweetened tea, chips). They hate on each other's tastes, but secretly try some of the other's favorite foods out of curiosity.

I'm going to stop there because otherwise this thing will go on forever :3.

🔥 so many!!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer #alastor #headcanon

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aidaronan · 3 months

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Microfic; Macropenis

Another @steddiemicrofic March for "pin" || 388 Words || Explicit Warnings & Tags: sex under the influence of drugs/alcohol, Eddie has a big dick

"I mean, you've heard about him, right?" Tommy asked.

"Eddie Munson?" Steve looked to where Eddie was balanced on a lunch table, orating about the unfairness of funding for the arts versus sports. "About how he deals?"

"No, everyone knows that. About how he's, like, this total and complete freakazoid obviously, but he's packing serious heat."

"Um?"

"Huge dick," Carol said, putting her finger in her mouth and making an obscene pop. "But he won't let anybody see it. I've tried."

"Uh…?" Steve looked back and forth between her and Tommy.

"Don't be such a prude, Steve," she said. "Tommy knew. It was pure espionage. Plus I was trying to score us free weed. I get pinned, we get pot, ya know?"

None of that really made Steve feel any less floored, but he let it go, looking back to Eddie instead. Steve was, of course, unable to keep himself from looking at Eddie's crotch. It looked fairly normal as far as Steve could tell. No massive bulge or anything. Just denim being denim.

Still, Steve couldn't let it go. Lunch ended, then the day ended, then the week, the month.

A party rolled around, Munson announcing his wares to the whole assembly like a merchant traveling town to town in some medieval flick. "Hear ye, hear ye!"

Somehow, Steve ended up alone with him on the front porch, both of them getting some fresh air while the party raged in the house and the backyard.

"Is it true?" Steve asked, floating high on beer and Eddie's star product.

"Is what true?"

"That you have, like, a horse dick."

Eddie spat beer all over his own shoes but quickly recovered, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Why?" he asked. "You aiming to find out, Big Boy?"

Steve glanced behind him as though there might be someone there, but there was no one. "And if I was?"

Which was how he found himself pinned in the back of Eddie's van, one knee shoved up, Eddie easing inside of him inch by massive inch.

In that confined space, high and buzzed, the world felt soft as cotton. And Eddie felt…

"Well?" Eddie asked, brow sweaty as he pumped his hips. Steve's mouth hung open in uninhibited pleasure, come spurting out onto his belly.

"Yeah," Steve rasped. "Yeah, it's pretty big."

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmarch #did i write this solely so i could title something microfic; macropenis? yes #fanfic #mine

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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

Text

Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.

A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.

word count: 1k

“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.

“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.

“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.

“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”

“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”

“It does?”

“Mhmm, you bet it does.”

Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.

Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.

Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.

“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.

“Hmm?”

“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”

“We did? Are you sure?”

“Positive. February 14th.”

You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”

“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”

“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”

“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”

You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.

“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”

“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.

“I do, in fact.”

“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.

“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #leahsgalentinesdayspecial

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buryustogether · 1 year

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lilac - chapter 4

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: you accidentally overhear a conversation between miguel and his ai at work.

wc: 4.5k

warnings/tags: domestic lifestyle, mentions of violence, mentions of choking and death, swearing, mentions of office sex, strippers, sex workers, strip club, private dances, cuddling

author’s note: he’s so lana del rey coded guys

Anybody with experience knew that trying to keep twenty third graders together was like herding cats. Anybody with further experience knew that keeping twenty third graders together in a sharp, sleek, trillion-dollar facility like Alchemax was like herding cats who were soaking wet and high on all the catnip they could have stuffed their stupid little faces with in the span of five minutes.

“Alexander,” you snapped as you helped your coworker count little bodies as they piled off the bus. “If I have to tell you one more time to keep your hands off James, I’m going to drive this bus myself back to school and give you a fifty-page packet while everyone else here has fun.”

While your words had the effect you hoped they did, you wouldn’t exactly classify a field trip to Alchemax as fun. It was a megacorporation that dabbled in exploits from clean energy to genetics to god knew whatever else they did in there between those fancy metal walls. The building looked as though it should have come straight from a sci-fi film compared to the other foundations on the block, all floor-to-ceiling windows and fifty-some floors and armed guards that stood at the front doors. Certainly not a place to take a field trip with a bunch of nine year olds. Again, you would have thought some place like the zoo or even an interactive museum would have been better, but when the principal wanted something, she got it.

To be honest, you had a suspicion she was hooking up with one of the guards here, but you had nothing to prove your theory.

Like the pack of raging little animals that they were, your students filed across the front way of the building and up the stone stairs to the doors, where they waited in a mass of wiggles and excited spasms. Each of them held their partner’s hand, a rule you pressed with each field trip. Going into a freaky building like this, you almost wished you had a hand to hold yourself.

“That’s all of them,” said your coworkers, one of the three teachers who had come to chaperone the trip. She looked up from her clipboard of names, double checking each kid as you both followed the crowd of children up the steps. “Christ, this is going to be a shitshow. I just know we’re going to be escorted out of here after… I don’t know, a molecular leveler gets demolished by tiny, sticky hands.”

You snuffed out a little snort, reaching up to adjust the necklace perched about your collarbones. In your free hand, you carried a coffee cup that still had the tab in; it wasn’t for you. “I think it’ll be alright,” you said, but not nearly as confidently as you would have liked. “We had an entire assembly over this.”

“And since when has that ever helped?” She followed your movements, her eyes trailing over your form. You blinked at her. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Hah! No…!” Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, you turned away and pressed your lips to your sleeve, trying to wipe off some of the excess lipstick you’d applied right before leaving the school. Fuck, it was too much, wasn’t it?

Definitely too much for popping in to visit during a school field trip when you should have been watching your kids.

After passing through multiple tall, sleek-looking metal detectors (and scolding a few kids for bringing their phones when they were specifically told to leave them at school), you met the man who would be giving the tour of the facility in the lobby. Overhead, modern-art-classified light fixtures hung from the ceiling like someone had captured starlight and crammed it into bulbs. A cafeteria filled with scientists and researchers and everyone in between stood to your left, each of them donned in a stark white lab coat. Some of them spoke on phones, others clacked away on laptops and futuristic-looking tablets with such an intensity you would have thought they were taking a test for their lives. A few of them spared a glace or two at your group, but they didn’t last long. Apparently field trips to designated areas in the building were normal.

You heard the tour guide talking animatedly to the kids, but his words didn’t quite register as you kept your head on a swivel, searching out something specific. After a moment, when you leaned back on the heels of your feet, you found what you were looking for; the elevators.

“Hey,” you said to your coworker as the kids began to move deeper into the lobby, “will you cover for me? I’ve got to run to the restroom real quick.”

After they had moved along to where they couldn’t see you, you grasped the coffee cup tighter in your grasp and made a beeline for the elevators. Your footsteps against the polished marble seemed deafening as you quickened your pace, realizing the cup wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier. How fucking humiliating would it be if you brought him cold coffee? There was a part of you that knew, really, he wouldn’t mind, but the larger, more insecure bit insisted he would mentally cringe and throw it out the second you left.

Fuck, you thought. This man had you whipped.

You had just reached the elevators, reaching out to tap the call button, when a voice called out to you from your left. “Excuse me,” said a woman sitting behind a large metal desk you hadn’t seen in your haste. She eyed you from behind thick lenses, brow quirked over the top of her monitor. “We do ask that you stay with your group, if you’re here for a tour.”

“Oh! Uhm…” Gripping the cup tight enough that you felt the cardboard bend ever so slightly against your fingers, you padded closer to the desk and put on your best tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I was just bringing a drink to someone who worked here. He’s, uhm… he’s -”

Before you could force your tongue to get out some kind of excuse, some kind of title, the woman was pulling out a small paper sheet from a drawer beside her leg. “Are you a significant other?” she asked, pulling a visitor sticker from the sheet and leaning forward to press it to your shirt. She didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer before sitting back down and clicking away at her screen. “Just a security question before you go; name and floor number?”

Goddamn; suddenly you were so fucking glad some people sucked at their jobs.

Taking a breath, you inhaled and plastered on a grin. “O’Hara,” you replied. “Floor seven.”

“Alright,” she said without looking up again. “You’re free to go up. Please stay in the public hallways.”

The entire elevator ride up to the third floor, you were unable to keep a goofy, surely stupid-looking smile from your face. You liked the idea of being called Miguel’s ‘significant other.’ It made your stomach clench, made your pulse race and your heart thunder and your core throb with a dull ache. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that kind of role, being deserving of such a title.

Coming home from your teaching job not to immediately race to do your makeup in loud, flashy colors, but to stay in the warm, basking glow of a house or a roomy apartment each evening. The keys would always fit just right in the lock, never click or jump. The air would be filled with the sound of a little girl’s quiet giggles from her bedroom, along with the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Small soccer cleats by the door. Trinkets and photographs and everything else that made the house a home strewn about the rooms. And a tall, sinewy figure that towered over you there to greet you when you walked inside, all warm smiles and wide, calloused hands on your hips and full lips to press against yours with enough gentleness and passion and adoration to keep you on your toes the rest of the night.

A bed big enough for the both of you, with enough blankets and comforters that you wouldn’t be cold even if you couldn’t afford to keep the heat on. Sheets and pillows that knew your white-knuckled grip, that would mold to your hands as you laid out bare for him and allowed him to worship the very ground you walked on with his mouth, his fingers, what lay beneath his slim, narrow hips…

By the time the elevator reached the seventh floor and the doors opened with a gentle chime, your cheeks were hot and your palms were sweaty enough you were sure you’d heated the coffee back up to steaming.

Wandering through the halls of Alechmax’s third floor and feeling incredibly out of place amongst the scientists flipping through reports and chattering on calls, you shuffled from office to office, searching for that familiar name that made your stomach flip. It seemed an awkwardly insane amount of time before you finally spotted his name on a plate beside a door left slightly ajar. You approached and smoothed out your shirt, preparing to present the coffee, when you heard voices inside.

“This isn’t like you, boss,” a woman was saying, her voice slightly warped from speaking over a computer. “You’re always preaching to the others that messing with canon events and triggering changes that aren’t meant to happen is wrong. You know it’s wrong.”

From across the room, a voice you recognized as Miguel’s scoffed. “This one is different. I’m balancing out the changes. I’ve got it under control.”

“Some control you’ve got. You do realize you’ve already altered enough canon events that even this universe itself doesn’t know where it’s going anymore? The bad guys here aren’t supposed to be in jail. Things aren’t supposed to get better. You know why? Because here, there is no Spiderman.”

Spiderman? Your gut clenched slightly as you inched closer to the gap between the door and the frame. If they were talking about Spiderman, then surely - he must have come from here. Some of those conspiracy theorists were right.

“Like I said, Lyla,” Miguel replied, his voice a touch deeper than it had been just a moment ago, “I have it under control.”

The woman named Lyla went on despite the dangerous rumble in Miguel’s throat you’d never heard before. “Here’s another one. That friend of yours? She was supposed to be engaged by now to her boyfriend. Her actual boyfriend. They’re supposed to have the whole angsty proposal thing, go back and forth for another three months, then end things. When he ends her. Asphyxiation by choking for approximately seven minutes, by the way.”

For a long, long while, there was silence. You realized you had been holding your breath, trying desperately to connect these pieces that just refused to fit together. What on earth were they talking about? Universes? Spiderman? Someone getting choked to death by their fiance? It sounded like a bad movie plot.

“Lyla?” came Miguel’s voice.

“Yeah, boss?”

“...Shut down and mute all alerts.”

Again, there came that horrible, palpable silence. Lyla seemed to be in some kind of shock. “Boss, I’m not sure that’s really what you want. You’re in a state of denial. Maybe you should take a break there, come back to headquarters. Jessica’s tried reaching out. Peter and Ben, too. I advise spending time with friends to decrease levels of -”

“Shut down. Now. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“...Yes, boss.”

When you heard his footsteps crossing the room, you took a small step back and clutched the surely-lukewarm coffee to your stomach. You’d never heard him take such a tone before, always used to that warm, content baritone that rumbled comfortably from deep within his throat. This kind of voice you’d just heard was cold and emotionless, without an ounce of feeling in a single one of his words.

You took a breath and exhaled it softly.

Then, as if he heard it from inside his office, the door was opened at an alarming rate to reveal Miguel on the other side. His brow was furrowed and a line had appeared at the corner of his mouth with his frown, obviously expecting one of his coworkers to be intruding at his door. Yet when his gaze met yours, when his frame towered over your smaller one, he realized just who you were, recognized that gleam in your eyes when you locked stares. His gaze softened like an airbag deflating. That line by his mouth disappeared. His tensed figure slowly relaxed, his shoulders coming down from where they’d been set.

For a short moment, you simply stared at one another. You were forced to admit to yourself that tone he’d spoken with had intimidated you.

It reminded you of the one Ferris used when he cornered you and threatened to take off for good.

Finally, Miguel’s lips parted. “Hey,” he breathed out, like he was trying his damn fucking best not to let that tone leak through to you.

You swallowed and slowly allowed yourself to relax. He wouldn’t ever speak to you like that. You didn’t know how you knew. You could just sense it in the warmth that poured from him, from the gentle honey of his dark eyes, from the way he held himself and carried his weight and set down each step like he knew the outcome of each and every movement he made. “Hi.”

Miguel inhaled, as if he were relieved you decided to speak. “Sorry about that,” he said and gestured over his shoulder into his office. “We’ve been testing out some new AI lately. Throwing it curveballs to see if it can keep up.” A small smile graced his face, close-lipped and sweet. Again, you realized - he never smiled with his teeth. “It hasn’t been going well.”

Like a dam breaking and letting a flood of water into a canal, relief rocketed through your systems and worked to ease your stress. Of course he had been talking to a computer. You doubted he could ever speak to a woman like that, much less anyone else. And that also explained all the wild things they had been discussing. Universes? Some poor chick getting murdered by her fiance?

Just the complicated workings of an out of sorts AI.

“I have to admit, I was wondering,” you let yourself laugh. “But, you know… who am I to question Alchemax’s best geneticist?” You watched in fascination as the corner of his mouth quirked upward and one eye squinted with the smile. God, you could watch him do that all damn day. Suddenly remembering the coffee in your hands, you held it up to him with an embarrassed grin. “I meant to bring you this while it was still hot, but I guess you know how hellish it can be getting a bunch of third graders on a bus.”

He took the cup with a rather confused expression.

“The field trip,” you said and folded your hands in front of you, because you knew if you didn’t, you would surely reach out and touch his face. “It’s today. You signed the permission slip about a month ago.”

Miguel blinked a few times, then took a breath and lifted his face. “Right. Right, sorry. Must have slipped my mind. I’ve - heh.” He shook his head and reached up to scratch at the delicate skin of his throat in that way he did when he spoke to you. “More going on than you would know.”

“Believe me,” you said softly, looking down at your shoes. You thought of dishes still in the sink, and band practices in your living room, and threats of leaving you all on your own because, really, that was truly your worst fear. “I know.”

You thought from there you would smile and turn, say something like, ‘Well, just thought I’d stop by,’ and leave him in the doorway of his office so that he wouldn’t see the yearning swimming in your irises. Maybe if you were feeling bold, you’d reach out and touch his wrist for just a moment before pulling away and practically sprinting back to the elevators.

But when you went to turn, he beat you to all of that. He reached out to touch your upper arm, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing along the fabric of your shirt, and he asked if you’d like to come inside, sit down for a minute. And inside his office, he told you what his department was working on, explained it in ways he knew you would understand. He spoke of a molecular collider that, in theory, would open a doorway to parallel universes.

You could have spent hours sitting in that office that smelled like his cologne, listening to him talk.

But life moved on. You were forced to pull yourself away, travel back downstairs and hold Gabriella’s hand like you hadn’t just thought about Miguel folding you over his desk, hushing your desperate cries, and gripping onto your hips with a hold that would bruise. You were forced to drive home and argue with Ferris about dirty laundry and his new keyboard girl constantly texting him. You were forced to land in the dressing room at The Menagerie, carefully dotting rhinestones to your collarbones in the mirror while the other girls buzzed around you.

“And he brought you flowers, too?” asked Shawna from where she was spread out on the couch across the room. She sighed deeply and hung her head over the armrest. “Girl. When are you going to stop playing and give that little girl of his a new mom?”

“You know why I can’t,” you replied as you pressed a small plastic rhinestone to your skin.

Zara met your eyes in the mirror as she grabbed the back of your chair, already dressed in her colorful, skimpy outfit and her mask. “We know why,” she hissed, but not at you. “That Ferris dude has got you held under the water, babe. Serious ball and chain kind of deal here. You really need to do something.”

If you could have found the strength to, you would have rolled your eyes at their words. But you really couldn’t. You were nothing short of exhausted after the field trip today, so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were unable to keep your eyes open while you were on stage. God, you loved your teaching gig, but sometimes it was so, so stressful. And so was this job. Teaching, dancing, disciplining, teasing. They all collided into one big, neverending hurricane of fatigue.

“Maybe in another universe,” you found yourself mumbling under your breath, remembering everything Miguel had told you about this morning, “I could have been a flower shop keeper.”

Behind you in the mirror, a few of the girls looked at you with strange expressions.

Before you could go back to applying your rhinestones, one of the newer girls entered the room and pushed her mask up so that her face was visible. She looked to you. “Boss said you’re canceled on the stage,” she said, and you hoped for a moment you were going to go home early, before she added, “Guy paid for a private dance in Room 7.”

“Goddammit.” You groaned and leaned forward to rest your forehead on your arms. You were way too fucking tired to do a private dance right now.

“M’sure he won’t be that bad,” said Shawna as she let herself slip further over the arm of the couch.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you stood, finished off your rhinestones the best you could, and slipped your cold porcelain mask over your features. At least like this, your customer wouldn’t be able to see your exhausted eyes and lost expression.

The beating, thrumming music of the club seemed to vibrate your very soul in your chest as you wound your way past patrons and around the stage, sure to throw half-assed smiles at the people you were forced to wiggle past just a bit too close. The short corridor leading to the private rooms were lit with neons, playing with shadows across your costumed form as you found Room 7 and gently knocked on the door. You blinked a few times to clear the blur from your eyes, then cleared your throat and stepped inside.

“Hi, handsome,” you said as you turned to shut the door - your classic line, no matter who the buyer. “How are you doing tonight?” You turned around to face your customer, then came to a complete stop. Even your heart jumped a beat or two.

The man you’d seen in the shadows that night of the robbery, the man with the little scar on his collarbone, had gotten to his feet from his chair when you entered the room. He wore that same spider mask, still had his dark hair slicked back over his head.

You swallowed thick as you felt his eyes traveling over your form behind the gaps in his mask. “Hello… Spiderman.”

He hesitated for a moment, like he was lost on just what to do. “Hey,” he said in an equally soft voice. It was muted in the same way it was behind his spandex mask.

You placed your hands behind your back as you leaned up against the door - and locked it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“...You asked.”

“Did I?” Putting on your best flirty, coy smile, you slowly crossed the room to meet him. “I thought all I said was… if you stopped by, to ask for me.” You reached out to touch the edge of his shirt, past his dress jacket, and skim your knuckle over the tan skin of his exposed collarbone. That scar sat just where you’d seen it before. “But you’re here.”

“...I’m here.”

There was a soft lilt to his voice, one that you had not heard before. Then again, you hadn’t spoken to him much, just in the bank and on the rooftop. But it seemed long enough to know that it wasn’t normal.

“What’s wrong, Spiderman?” you asked gently, taking a step closer. Your knees brushed against his, and when you gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, he sat back in the chair positioned in the center of the room. You gingerly climbed up so that your knees rested on either side of his thighs, so that your center was just inches above his. You didn’t miss the slight hitch in his breath, the way his eyes widened ever just so behind that spider mask. “Have a bad day? Some criminals get the better of you?”

You knew, in a way, that he wasn’t going to do it himself, so you took his wide, warm hands in your own and rested them on your hips. They stayed there for a long, long moment. Then they moved not down, toward your ass and your core, but up. They felt tentatively along your middle, his thumb tickling your stomach just a bit, and stopped just below your breasts before sliding back down again.

“No,” he replied in a low, raspy voice. He paused when you slowly lowered yourself so that you were seated on his lap now, your hips pressed against his. You felt his thigh twitch beneath your ass. “Pretty good day, actually. Just… heard some bad news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hummed, letting your fingers drag along the delicate skin of his throat, just barely shaded with stubble. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

You expected him to hesitate, then make a request. Strip for him. Dance. Whisper in his ear all the things you wanted to do to him.

But there came none of that. Instead of touching you like you were used to, his hands - which were still respectfully resting against your middle - slowly slid across to your back and gently, gingerly, pulled you against him so that you were lying against his front. So that your chests were pressed together. So that you were slumped comfortably in his lap. He held you there against him, one hand on the small of your back and the other on the base of your neck.

“Just this,” he murmured.

You were stunned, to say the least. This was not the first time a customer just wanted to hold, or be held, or anything of the sort. But even then, those touches were desperate and needy, clingy and awkward. But this was everything they were not. This was gentle and considerate, kind and… romantic. Like he didn’t just need to be touched, he needed to be touched by you.

When you inhaled you thought you recognized the scent you breathed in. But with his body so close and his hands holding you so securely, you dismissed it like a runaway thought.

“Here.” Spiderman pulled you back for just a second, raising his fingers up to pull at the ribbon keeping your mask on your face, mindful not to catch any hair. Your breath hitched when he set the monarch mask aside, your face now bare as you stared down at him. This was against the rules. You were not supposed to do this. Customers were not supposed to see your face, know you like this.

But this?

This was far beyond any rules.

Your lips parted and your heart thundering in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it, you found your own fingers slowly reaching up to graze at his porcelain mask. Your fingertips grazed the edge, began to hitch it up…

He caught your wrist in a hold that was so gentle, yet so commanding, that you immediately let your hand drop. But there was no venomous feeling there, no edge. Just a warning. A soft, quiet warning.

Exhaling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and settled yourself against his wide, powerful frame. Your face nestled itself into the crook of his neck, your chin resting atop his shoulder, as his hands came back to hold your form against his. One of his thumbs glided across your shoulder blade, sending goosebumps rising across your skin.

Gripping onto his jacket collar, you opened your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror that faced the back of the chair. Here you couldn’t see the mask over Spiderman’s face, just his slicked-back hair and his broad shoulders keeping you caged against him. His head tilted toward yours, your temples resting together.

For a moment, in your exhaustion and fatigue, you thought he resembled someone else you knew. But you let the thought pass, instead shutting your eyes and basking in his soft, gentle, perfect touch.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #atsv #spiderman 2099

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stellocchia · 6 months

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The fact that one of the only 3 Survivors of the bogeyman apocalypse this season was Scott who didn't even know what the heck was going on was honestly hilarious to me.

Like, the other two? They knew from early on. They had teammates at the beginning, people to rely on. And, ultimately, Etho's loyalty is what saved both of them. If he betrayed them, they could have fallen easily. Especially Cleo. Grian, of course, had his cowardice to thank as well (which I don't thnk was a negative trait this session to be honest, bravery would have only gotten him killed, and what would have been the point of that?).

Scott though? He had nobody for almost the whole session. No allies, no info, no sense of self-preservation. He literally walked INTO the bogeymen assemble to give them a disc! So they could be spooky! He even hung around to see Gem when she just turned red and when she was literally patient 0 of this infection!

And yet he survived. With not that much damage either. He survived and completed his task and all that shebang.

Like, it's genuinely so hilarious. My man is such a survivor by nature that he can have literally all the odds against him and still thrive. Love that for him.

#scott smajor #slsmp scott #slsmp #trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic series #life series #life smp #secret life #secret life smp #secret life smp analysis #grian #zombiecleo #slsmp grian #slsmp cleo #session 7 #scott has so much freaking luck #like damn

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staretes · 4 months

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it's dark in the fortress of meropide.

the duke’s office is quiet, the silence only broken by the soft snores of the man sleeping at the desk. half filled papers and letters are strewn around wriothesley, who is slumped on the table surface, fountain pen still loosely clutched in his grip.

wriothesley doesn't usually drown himself in work, but on certain days he finds himself dealing with maison gestion’s stringent documents, recording each clockwork meka assembled in the production zone. on those days, both of you forgo your usual night routine, and you always head to his office to keep him company as he works.

but today, it appears exhaustion has taken hold of him, and he drifted off to sleep in the middle of work.

you cautiously make your way to his desk, treading with light steps, careful not to make a sound.

his desk is a mess. you quietly sort the papers as your lover snores away beside you. before long, neat little piles of paper form in front of you.

you gently pry the fountain pen from his loose grip. the pen is old, and sometimes ink refuses to flow from its nib. you remember telling him so, and bought him a new one to use at his desk. a sleek black body with his name engraved on it in silver. funnily enough though, that pen never even made it into his office. instead, it sits on the table next to his side of the bed.

with the desk in front of you tidied, you take wriothesley's jacket, hung over the back of his chair, and cover his sleeping form.

now that everything's settled, you ought to take your leave. you will see him again in the morning.

you pause. unless…

your bet with sigewinne is still on.

you pull a sheet of stickers from your pocket. before long, a grumpy monsieur neuvillette has decorated your lover's shoulder.

you should have stopped there, really, but neuvillette looked so lonely without anyone to accompany him.

running out of flat space to comfortably stick stickers on, you make a daring move. a pleading melusine, right on his cheek.

its hard to say you felt a little guilty, especially as the grin on your face grew wider and wider as you pasted more stickers on your partner's gorgeous face. a proud-faced bunny here, a sobbing kitten there, and ooh this one has hearts on it how could you not….

before long, the entire sheet of stickers had been plastered onto wriothesley's face.

at this point, your shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. your palm is pressed to your lips as your other hand reaches over to his eyes to brush his hair away-

and suddenly you find the sky blue irises of the duke staring into yours.

“just what are you up to, darling?”

#[✦ - archives!]#gonna post this and hurry to sleep #ah well #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x you #wrio x reader #genshin x y/n #wriothesley x gn reader #genshin x you #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley x y/n #sorry if this was shit i have a math exam tmr + im rusty

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sluts4matt · 2 months

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Can you do a fan fiction with matt and the reader is a mixed (black and white) girl with shoulder length curly hair and brown eyes? Love your fan fics!

ANNIVERSARY

pairing: rough!dom matt x mixed!reader

summary: in which your two-year anniversary is a lot more of a big deal to matt then you thought it would be.

warnings: small age gap(literally a year), fluff, suggestive, SMUT, fingering, p in v (wrap it up boys and girls), praising, public, exhibitionism kink, degradation (if you squint), slight bondage, spanking and choking (if you squint)

word count: 2540

authors note: disclaimer the only thing to go off from the picture above is the dress, other than that, that's not how the character is depicted.

the sun peaked through the silk curtains hung from the windows. you groaned as the light hit your vision, your eyes squeezing back shut.

you grabbed your phone before disappearing underneath your black comforter with it. turning it on, you're hit with your phone brightness all the way up. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting to turn it down, clicking on your boyfriend, matt's contact name.

when you popped your head back out, a grin had overtaken your features. you planted your feet on the ground, shuttering at the coldness before standing up.

march 26th had been such a meaningful day for you. it was the day you moved to los angeles with your mom at sixteen to pursue your dream of becoming a model.

it was the day matt had popped the 'will you be my girlfriend question' a year later. now, it was your two-year anniversary. matt had always been a nonchalant guy, so him waking up before his usual time of 2 pm to do something with you made you feel special.

you made your way to your closet, deciding on a white and blue sundress, as it was nice, but wasn't too fancy. you had no clue what matt had planned.

you slipped into a pair of black boots, walking towards your bathroom to brush your teeth. when finished you took a seat at the small chair in front of your vanity, untying the silk bonnet that contained your curls.

you watched your brown curls cascade down your shoulders stopping right under them as you took it off your head, hanging it on the nob right next to the mirror.

you picked up a wide tooth picked comb, gently tugging it through your hair. you started at the bottom, working your way up to your roots as you dragged it through the curls, the comb getting stuck every now in then.

once you finished, you took a couple scrunchies. you parted your hair through the middle, parting it once more horizontally before beginning to assemble your space buns.

one break down and almost an hour later your hair was to your liking, your edges laying down as perfectly as you could get them too. you applied spf to your face, to protect it from the harsh rays of the sun before applying a thin layer of skin tint.

you blended it out, applying concealer to the underneath of your eyes, your chin, and your forehead to brighten those areas up. you blended that out, doing a small wing with your eyeliner.

you took a spully brush to brush your lash extensions out, making them appear fluffier. you added a bit of contour, blush, and highlighter before lining your lips and applying a coat of clear gloss over them.

you rubbed them together, pouting at the mirror.

"perfect." you whispered; a grin plastered on your face.

you stood, grabbing your black and silver cross body bag, your phone sliding right in. you grabbed a black leather jacket in case it got chilly, and adorned your wrist with a few gold bracelets.

your ears held gold hoops, and a gold industrial bar on the right side. your nose had a black septum ring in it. you smiled at your appearance, checking the time.

11:30.

you made your way out of your room, down the stairs immediately being greeted by your mom, a cup of green tea in her hand as she gazed out the sliding glass door, blowing smoke from her lips.

you watched her tuck her vuse back into her pocket, taking a sip of her tea. "you look nice, sweetie."

the grin on her lips was contagious, the corners of your own curling upwards as well. "thank you, matt's taking me somewhere," i grin, looking out the sliding door to see what she was looking at.

a few birds had been stood on the water fountain on your back porch, chirping in a sing-song fashion. your cat, fish, had been laid underneath the tree, soaking in the sun's rays.

"well have fun," she said, as the two of you heard a car pull up. "shit," you mutter, rushing into the garage. you come back with a blue bag in your hand, white and gold tissue paper sticking out the tops.

you slip the leather jacket on, sliding the bag onto your shoulder as you rushed out the front door, closing it behind you.

matt stood, leaning against the kia. his body was clad in blue jeans and a red top, his head adorned with a red and white snapback. his hands were stuffed in his pocket as he watched you approach the passenger side.

"afternoon," he smiled, opening his arms for a hug which you gladly accepted, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you slightly. the bag hitting his upper back, brought you both back to reality.

"i have a gift," you grinned, pulling back. you handed him the bag, his face softening.

he took the paper out, a smile overtaking his face. inside was a few different rings, as well as squirtle, pikachu, and charmander plushies.

you loved the way his eyes lit up, as if he were a kid in a candy store. "baby squirtle," he says since he already had a bigger one.

he took the plush out of the bag, giving it a tight squeeze before turning his attention to you.

"thank you so much, angel. i love you."

you grinned, watching his eyes flicker to your lips. he glanced over your shoulder, most likely checking to see if your mom was watching. when he pressed his lips to yours, you assumed she wasn't.

you grinned into the kiss, the taste of spearmint on his lips as they moved against your own. his hand had come up to caress the side of your face, his thumb rubbing circles into your cheek.

"i love you too." you say, pulling away with a grin before sliding into the car. he closed the door, making it to the other side of the car.

he pressed the button, the car revving before pulling off. "where are we going?" you ask, glancing out the window.

"you'll see," he smiles, glancing at you before back to the road. he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb.

you hum, the feeling sending chills down your spine as his thumb brushes against the hem of your dress. your heartbeat quickens, his hand slipping under the dress.

your eyes widen slightly, throughout the two years of your relationship anything sexual was done inside the bedroom, and inside the bedroom only. this was unlike him, yet it excited you.

he brushed against the lace material of your panties, his touch making you suck in a breath.

"matthew!" you say, glancing out the window. "you're being so bad right now."

"i know," he whispers, his fingers pushing the lace fabric aside.

he rubs against your slit, your breath hitching as a whine bubbles up in your throat. his touch makes you melt, his finger slowly circling your clit.

you feel your legs spread for him, and he grins. two of his fingers push inside of you, a gasp falling from your lips. your head lols back against the headrest, your eyes shutting.

you buck into his fingers, your hands gripping the side of your seat. "fuck," you whine, your voice shaking. "so cute, coming undone in the car all because of my fingers."

his words only made you wetter, your eyes opening and rolling to the back of your head. "matt, fuck."

you whimper, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. "god, so close," you breathe out, moaning.

"are you going to cum, angel? are you going to cum on my fingers, huh?"

you nod your head, your breathing heavy as you bucked into his fingers. he chuckles before pulling his fingers away, "not yet princess."

"what the fuck?" you mutter, opening your eyes. the knot that had formed was slowly unraveling, and you needed it gone. "don't be mean," you pout. "oh baby," he mocks, turning into a park, parking lot.

it was mostly empty, other than a few people here and there. you felt embarrassed, the feeling of wetness seeping from you. you crossed your legs, a frown on your face.

he laughed, pulling into a spot. "aw don't be like that," he smiles, unbuckling himself. he gets out, going to your side to open the door.

you're still pouting, glaring at him. he laughs, holding his hand out. "don't be like that angel."

you undo the seatbelt, standing up. you fix your dress, closing the car door. "that was so mean," "i'll make it up to you," he says, guiding you towards a group of trees.

behind it was a small blanket, sat out with a picnic basket and a few candles. you gasped, a smile taking over your features.

"happy anniversary." he whispered, when you turn to face him. he's holding up a small heart shaped box, and you squeal.

you take it, opening it to reveal a silver promise ring, with diamonds decorating the band. "you can't be serious," you said, your eyes welling up.

"this must have cost you a fortune," you say, looking at him as you blink back tears. "you're worth every. single. penny," he mutters, kissing you in between words.

you kissed him back, your hands sliding to his neck. his hands slide to the underside of your thighs, picking you up.

your legs wrap around his waist, his hand pushing against the tree for support. his tongue swiped over the bottom of your lip, and you granted him entrance.

he kissed you slowly, taking his time to explore your mouth. though he already knew every inch and crevice of it, you were severely glad the trees had hidden you away.

his hand moved from under your thigh to the zip of your dress. he pulled away, looking you in the eyes.

"can i take this off, baby?" he asks, and you nod. he sets you down, pulling the zipper of the dress down. he watches the fabric fall down your body, polling at your feet.

his eyes danced over your skin, as if he was taking a mental picture. "you're so beautiful," he muttered, trailing his hands down the caramel skin.

he kissed you again, the passion between the two of you growing as he guided you to lay down on the blanket. he climbed on top of you, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

your hands slid to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up. he pulled away, allowing the article of clothing to come off.

his hand pushed between your thighs, your legs opening for him. you giggled as you felt his lips attach to your neck, sucking marks, that your mom would tease you about later, into the skin.

you moan, arching your back. "so needy, aren't you?"

you nod, your hands sliding to the buckle of his pants. he chuckled, taking the belt off. the way his eyes looked at your brown ones told you he had an idea bubbling in his head, "do it," you mumble.

he grinned, flipping you onto your stomach. your face flushed and you were glad he couldn't see it. he took the belt, and the strap that was on it, looping it through the holes.

you felt him wrap it around your wrists, leaving enough leigh way for him to be able to tug. once the belt was tied, he slipped his boxers off, throwing them to the side.

he tugged on the belt, a moan falling from your lips. "fuck, please," "please, what?" he asks, his voice smooth and velvety. "please fuck me, matthew."

"how can i say no when you ask so nicely," he mutters, slipping the lace panties you had on down your legs.

he pushes into you, and you let out a choked moan. your eyes roll to the back of your head, his thrusts are slow but hard.

his hand is gripped around the leigh way of the belt, the other resting on your hips as he pounded into you. "oh my god," you breathed, the knot forming in your stomach once more.

"please, right there," you whined, feeling him hit the spot that made you see stars. "yeah? right there angel," you squeaked out in response, pushing yourself against him.

"you like the way my cock feels inside of you?" you nod, not being able to formulate a proper answer.

"use your words," he spanks you, and the sound resonates through the woods. your body jolts at the unexpected contact, a whine leaving your lips.

"yes, fuck yes!"

"good girl," he praised, and it made the knot in your stomach grow tighter. "cum for me, angel. show me how much my little slut loves getting fucked where anyone could see her."

"oh fuck, matt, i'm gonna-" you cry, the knot finally breaking. white hot pleasure takes over your body, and your vision blurs.

your mouth falls agape, a silent scream ripping through you.

"such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a champ," he mutters, pressing kisses to the back of your neck. his praises were enough to send you over the edge again, your vision blurring even more.

the tears had stained your face, and your chest heaved as you came down from the high. his thrusts became sloppier, the knot in his stomach tightening.

"angel, fuck, where should i-,"

"inside," you mutter, pushing back against him. his movements are a bit harder, his tip rubbing up against your g-spot each and every time.

"right there," you whine, and he continues the movements. your hands squeeze together, in attempt to find something to hold onto without being able to move your arms.

you feel the belt loosen around your wrist before it's falling to the side and matt's pulling out. a whine escapes your throat at the sudden emptiness before he's flipping you over and ramming back into you.

"wanna see those pretty brown eyes when i cum baby," he says, his hands wrapping around your throat. the feeling makes your back arch, his grip not tight enough to cut air off.

he moves in and out of you, his thrusts hard and fast.

"please cum, i can't-" "you can take it, just a bit longer," he leans down, biting into your shoulder. his teeth are sharp, the pain sending another shockwave of pleasure throughout your body.

"oh, fuck, baby."

your orgasm takes over again, and his hand clamps around your mouth, muffling the loud moan like screams that are emitted from you. his thrusts become sloppy, and soon enough his cum is painting your walls.

he rides out his high, pulling out once the both of you have calmed down. his lips connect with yours, his tongue moving against your own.

he pulls away, pressing kisses down your neck. "you shouldn't have gotten me anything," he mumbles, "i already have the best gift i could ask for right next to me."

a grin overtook your features, a giggle falling from your lips. "i love you, baby. happy anniversary."

"i love you more."

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chris @l5ka @strombolilovr

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fayeforrosie · 1 year

Text

The Only One I Want

Part 1

Karina x Fem! Reader

Karina knew she was pretty. She knew she had a chance with everyone, however, she was forever against any romantic relationships ever since she became an idol. Why would she want anyone when all they ever do is love her for her fame and looks? She knew she could never find anyone perfect for her, so she gave up on romance... until she met you

Word Count- 2.8k

Warnings- Mention of men

Week after week Karina was cursed with yet another blind date set up by her company. She would urgently burst into her managers room, promptly falling down onto her knees, hands speedily racing against each other as if she was bound to make a fire, begging to go at least a month without any blind dates.

To her dismay, however, not surprise, her manager would always shake her head firmly. “We need you to do this for us Karina. Do you have any idea how much attention would follow us if Yu Jimin was to find the perfect man?” She would say, and all Karina could do was sigh, walking out of the room with her head hung to her feet.

It was another day in which her company had set up a date once again, this time, they informed her it would be at one of Seoul’s most popular art museums, where she would be meeting the man in about an hour from now.

Karina couldn’t help but dread the upcoming event, knowing that her members got to stay back at the company and practice whatever they wished with their dance instructor, as there was no schedule for them this day.

Karina wished she could be apart of that. She wished she could be in the dance practice room, and she reminisced with the feeling of laughter and sweat filling the air of the unreasonably hot place. It was all she wanted... to spend time with her members doing stupid “idol shit" on her days off.

Yes, she was an idol, not a dating show contestant. Why couldn’t her company see this?

And on top of everything, she had never been fond of dating, as every possible boy she’s met was only ever after her looks, or how much money was in her pockets. “Why don’t I take you home tonight”, she heard almost constantly after every date. It was upsetting to say the least, and as a result, Karina turned down any possible instance in which a boy could waltz their way into her heart. It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted her members. She wanted to be on stage. She wanted to be in the studio.

Instead, Karina found herself in the back of her managers car, mask almost suffocating her face as her hat floated just above her line of vision. Although she went on many dates, she was always forced to cover her identity, as her manager elucidated how bad it would be if the public was to see their sweetheart being accompanied by a new man every week. They wanted her to find the right one, then she could freely express herself to the public (though she knew it would never happen).

“We’ve almost arrived, make sure you put your glasses on before you step out.” Her manger expressed from the passenger seat, where she responded with a small nod. If her mask was clipped on any tighter, she swore her manger would be able to see her frown seeping through.

Only a minute later, the car pulled to a stop, just beside an almost identical car in the parking lot. Karina stepped out, her glasses now shielding her eyes as the door to the adjacent car rolled open just in front of her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Jimin”, a voice could be heard in front of her.

Karina raised her head, gaze connecting with the man in front of her.

Lee Jae Wook, I never thought I would meet him, Karina thought to herself.

Despite the immense amount of meetings her company would assemble, they never would tell Karina which man she would be seeing, and she hated it.

She remembers the time when she had shown up at an excessively fancy restaurant, only to be met with Mark Tuan seated comfortably in the chair ahead of her. Or when Kris Wu sat adequately on the most ugly patterned blanket, with a messy endeavor of a picnic by its side, bottles of alcohol spilling onto the grass, Kris’s attempt at getting Karina drunk and taking her home... god what a terrible date that was.

“Call me Karina”, she said, ignoring the evident hand reaching out, awaiting to be shaken. Karina didn’t like when anyone other then her members, or family, was to call her by her birth name. She believed that only those who knew her personally were given the ability to call her by something so precious, not some random actor practically drooling as he soaked in her presence.

“Yes of course, my apologies”, Jae Wook nodded and extended his arm for the girl to take, and if it wasn’t for Karina’s manager lightly pushing her into the man, she would have smacked his arm down instantly.

With that, the two began into the museum, her arm loosely wrapped around his, and Jae Wook’s excessive amount of cologne being the only thing Karina could smell.

God this is terrible. I need to get home.

“Welcome! It’s a pleasure to have you two joining us today!” An abnormally tall woman greeted them at the entrance. “Call me Ha-Eun! I’ll be your tour guide for today’s visit”, Karina shook her hand with a fake smile plastered onto her face.

“Thank you”, Karina expressed, and followed the woman as she took them through security and into the main hall of the museum. The place was exceptionally beautiful, and Karina was sure that if she were to be accompanied by her members instead of this man, her experience would be one to remember.

But she wasn’t. She was stuck clinging onto the man as they followed the tour guide into the first exhibit, knowingly peering at him as his eyes were trained on the woman’s ass while she walked ahead of them.

In all honestly, Karina couldn’t care less. She could turn the corner and see Jae Wook kissing another woman and she wouldn’t even bat an eye. He could do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t bother her. Nevertheless, she knew that was impossible, because as soon as Karina thought he would leave her alone and take in his surroundings instead, he intertwined his fingers with her, and as she tried to pull away, he gave her hand a tug, almost as if he was warning her to not even try.

To say Karina was uncomfortable was an understatement. The two of them followed the tour guide throughout the museum, and all Karina could think about was how sweaty and nasty the man’s hand felt in the grasp of hers.

It has been a half an hour since they began to look around, and as they were stopped in front of a beautiful piece Karina couldn’t help but admire, Jae Wook spoke up.

“I need to use the bathroom, would you mind staying here?” He directs his attention towards Karina.

God yes. I'd be more than happy to. Please leave and never come back, Karina thought.

“Sure.”

The tour guide stepped in front of Jae Wook before he could make his way out.

“I can show you the way! There isn’t one very close to here, it’s a bit of a walk.” She happily spoke, eyes almost unseen as a result of her never-resting smile. It must be tiring having that job, Karina thought, with having to keep a smile on your face without the slightest falter, even in the case of an inconvenience. She could never do that.

“Thank you, I appreciate it”, Jae Wook spoke formally. “I’ll be right back”, he spoke once more, leaning down and planting a dry kiss atop of Karina’s forehead, and she almost gagged.

The two made their way to the nearest bathroom, and there Karina stood, still at the fore of the painting. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it, it was truly beautiful. The way the colors complimented each line, as though the picture could truly come to live. It was remarkable.

Being lost in her own thoughts, Karina failed to notice the woman that walked towards her and stood just about three feet away.

“It’s beautiful isn’t.”

Karina’s ears chirped at the sound of the feminine voice, and she turned her head to glare at whoever had made the comment, however she was immediately met with the side profile of what seemed to be an angel.

Karina had never seen anyone so captivating. The way your gaze was held beautifully on the artwork, where the piece couldn’t even compare to how prepossessing your visuals were. It was like she was at a loss of air, and she had never felt this feeling before. Karina has never been so lost for words, as it was usually the other way around, where the man was to look at Karina like they had never seen anyone as stunning as her.

Now, eyes still trained on your profile, she can understand how these men felt when they claimed to be awestruck.

“...y- yeah”, Karina was still in a trance, making it hard for her to complete a full sentence.

“I always come back to this piece whenever I visit, its magnificent”, you glanced over to her, and before you could meet her gaze, her eyes flashed back to the wall in an instant.

“Um...”, she needed to keep talking to you, so she tried to start up a conversation, where she again was never the one to do so.

“How often do you come here?” Karina asked, this time her eyes on you, and when you turned around to respond, her cheeks began to match the color of your beautifully pink lips.

How could someone be so engaging?

“Usually once a month, its like my happy place”, you allow a small chuckle to escape past your lips, as does Karina.

“That’s really cool”, Karina smiles, her voice wavering as she tried to keep calm, and she continued.

“Do you have any other works that you like?”

Karina watched as your eyes scanned the wall full of beautiful artwork, deciding if there was another that met up to the standard of the one you stood ahead of, however you shake your head.

“I love them all, but this one is my favorite”, you smile and Karina could practically hear her heart skip a beat.

Karina has never felt the feeling of butterflies in her stomach until now. She has never been so captivated by someone’s presence until now. She has never wanted to hold a conversation with a stranger until now. You made her want to do everything at this very moment. Karina wanted to grab your hand and walk you outside just to continue to talk about your love for art. She could listen to you all day.

Could a woman feel this way for a woman? Karina never thought of woman in that type of sense, as she was only ever set up with men her entire live, so it was inevitable that her heart was trained to find attraction towards the gender. Maybe meeting you thirty seconds ago was a sign that her heart could possibly open up to someone. And not just anyone... a woman.

“Want to know why I like this painting so much?” You asked, and began to move a bit closer to her body, still keeping a comfortable distance.

Come closer, Karina thought.

“Why?”

You smiled and leaned in, "because I made it”, you uttered faintly.

And there it was. The exact moment that Karina determined she could truly find romance in somebody. Nobody had ever made Karina feel such a thing, and she thought she might as well die alone, since nobody had ever held her attention. But she was wrong. Here you were, in the flesh, completely ripping the heart of Yu Jimin out of her entire body, unbeknownst to you.

“Are you serious?” That was all Karina could muster out, otherwise she might as well shout to the world that she found the one for her.

“Yeah. It was accepted into the gallery about six months ago. Cool right?”

God you had no idea how many butterflies were roaming the district of Karina insides.

“Y- yeah... that’s amazing”, she smiled and went on. “What’s your name?”

You gave her a warm-hearted smile and pointed over to the painting, where Karina was now faced with sign just bellow the piece.

Y/n Yl/n

How beautiful, was as Karina could think.

“How about you? What’s your name?”

It was natural that you didn’t recognize the woman, as she was dressed in the least revealing clothes there ever was to be, a mask on her face accompanied by the hat she had on in the car, and lastly a pair of circular glasses. She didn’t expect you to know who she was with such a disguise, but she hoped you were to realize once she took her mask and glasses off.

Maybe if Karina showed you who she really was, you would end up being a huge fan, and immediately want to continue talking to her. Nobody could ever pass up on the chance of becoming close with an idol, so it should be the same regarding you, right?

Karina allowed her thoughts to race ahead of herself, and she pulled her mask down, her glasses following.

She saw when it clicked in your mind, that you were being faced with the Karina of Aespa, one of the most famous fourth generation idols there is to be. She felt pride, and for the first time, she was happy someone was to recognize who she was.

Nonetheless, exactly opposite of what Karina had thought would happen, your lips turned upwards into a fair smile, and you nodded your deliberately.

“Ah”, you stated, “Yu Jimin. I’ve seen your face all over.”

Is that it? Is that all you had to say? You’re not going to ask for a picture? Or even bow? Karina was beyond confused, she had never met anyone who would react with such ease.

In addition, Karina noticed that her brain, usually trained to correct anyone that was to call her by her birth name, refused to tell you the name in which she preferred for others to call her. In fact, she found herself preferring you to call her Jimin apposed to Karina. You were already special enough to her.

“So you know who I am?” Karina spoke.

“Doesn’t everybody?” You laughed. “You are even more beautiful in person, it’s surprising.”

Hearing those words come out of your mouth, Karina couldn’t help but bring her mask back up to her face. She couldn’t let you see how flustered you made her. It was dehumanizing.

“Oh... thank you.” She looked anywhere but to you. “You’re beautiful as well.”

You chuckled and looked down just as she did, and if anyone was to take a look over at your interaction, it’s possible they would think the two of you were to not even be associating with each other.

But, before you could thank the girl, your eyes glanced over at a man who was making his way towards Karina, and you recognized him to be the one you had seen her with preceding your approach.

“I think it’s time for me to go now, I believe your boyfriend is here for you.”

Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips frowning at the thought of you leaving so soon, but she turned around to see what you had been referring to, and was met with Jae Wook and the tour guide side by side, making their way towards her.

“No! He’s not my b-” Karina turned around to reassure you, however, her breath hitched, eyes almost even watering as she found that you were instantly gone.

She felt like a child that had lost their parents at a crowded event, searching aimlessly throughout the area, double... triple looking around to see where you might have gone. But it was too late.

Jae Wook had then came up by her side and took her hand, and Karina couldn’t even protest, she was too upset. Her mind was somewhere else at the moment.

She followed Jae Wook, eyes trained on the wooden floor as she thought of you.

She thought about how heavenly your voice was, like music played softly in her ears, and how magnificent your side profile was to look at. She could stare at it all day if she could. She needed to see your face again. She needed to find you.

You were the one for her, she determined it. And she will not leave this museum unless it was hand and hand with you

Hi everyone!! I’m backkk!!! I’m not sure exactly how many parts this will have, but I’ll just keep going until I feel the story is complete haha. Stay tuned for part two my loves!! 💕💕

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