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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 month

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There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.

The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.

(under the cut for book spoilers and length)

The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)

In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.

The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.

The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.

The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.

From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.

There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.

Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.

If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.

#dune #dune part two #adaptation #paul atreides #fedaykin

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initialchains · 4 months

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would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting.

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting.

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there.

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss.

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement.

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did.

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control.

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again.

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.”

“I do.”

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too.

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while.

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank.

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”.

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.”

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?”

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.”

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself.

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.”

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.”

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries.

You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso.

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin.

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.”

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you.

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.”

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.”

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance.

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #magnolia’s fics!

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shapelytimber · 6 months

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Y2kunt darth maul going to the club with the gals (gn). He was 22 in sw1, he should've been at the club

[COMMISSIONS] - [PRINT] (Promo code UJABTZ still available until 11/19 <3)

Process below (and a quick recap of all the other people in the room (+ rambling because it's my favorite thing to do gkgkflflk)) vvv

Do I think Maul would have a friend group ? No. But it's time to open our hearts and and free ourselves from the shackles of common sense.

Anyway starting from the left, the togruta woman was a design I created nearly... 3 years ago ?? In my first fanart for the fic serie "how to..." (I think I named her Narla).

In the bg is my sw barbie ! In hommage to someone who said on my last maul drawing "I think Maul deserves barbie as a friend" (something along those lines-) and I think they are right so here she is !

And the last person is... The death stick guy from the second film gkgkfkoffk I could not resist not including him idkw. He seems to enjoy going to the club ? That's enough for me ! (Don't think of the timeline, for the love of god nobody think of the timeline-)

When I was doing sketches for this, I thought about one crutial detail I could not comprehensively include in the final image, so here it is : Maul and my togruta lady chose each other's outfits. He picked something he thought looked cool, she picked pink.

PS : the longer I was working on this piece the more Darth Maul was looking like a mean lesbian lhlgkgofok anyway if you want to interpret this image as trans mean lesbian Maul I won't stop you <3 (join me and my evil advisor in this delightful vision)

PSS : my only exposure to maul was though sw1, and half of the book 'maul lockdown' (that I remember nothing about-). I barely know this man, he is just the weird guy from sw I like to draw. (I obviously know other things about him, but only through fandom(tumblr))

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petpenname · 18 days

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Heartache

pairing: Ellie Williams [brother's best friend] x fem reader c.w. : smoking summary: you have had your eyes on your brother's best friend and band member forever, but you'd never think she would actually talk to you? a/n: this was a submission + I'll make more parts if it gets a good response!

The air in your room hangs heavy with humidity. A slight breeze from your open window blows through, fluttering your various posters and decor hanging on your walls. And over you, sprawled across your bed, flipping through social media, you were honestly bored out of your mind. Three weeks into summer and your closest friend was away for vacation, leaving you alone… and bored.

Cycling through your socials again you get fed up with the lack of entertainment and toss your phone on the floor with an exacerbated sigh. You lay on your bed, wondering what you should do to fill the void of dopamine when the sound of music begins to fill the house. A mixture of rock, indie, and midwest emo songs rang out from your garage, conveniently positioned directly under your room.

Your brother's band got around to practicing, you assumed. You didn’t even realize your brother was home, he had gone out earlier this morning after your parents left for work. The music got louder and you suddenly had an idea of what you wanted to do, and it wasn't staying here and listening to your brother's shitty garage band. You gather your sketchbook, some pens, headphones, and a few other things into a bag, throw on a hoodie and a pair of shoes and head downstairs. You were headed to a river spot in the woods near your house. It was a commonly frequented spot by you, and your friends but not known to many. Perfect for a little seclusion and wading in cool water.

You walk down stairs and almost instantly are hit with the strong earthy smell of smoke. You linger for a second and decide that your trip would be improved with a joint, hoping your brother would front you something, you enter the loud garage.

Your brother and his band mates, all two of them, were unaware of your entrance. They were playing as loud as possible (maybe not as well as possible) but they were producing sound! Your brother slamming away on the drums while the guitarist, and bassist/singer were in their own worlds.

“Hey!” you yell over the trio.

“HEY KAI!” You shout once more at your brother. Who, without skipping a beat or stopping, yells back.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

This got the attention of the other two band members who did stop upon seeing you standing there, amps silencing to white noise feedback.

“Can I get a joint?” you ask.

“You got money for a joint?” Kai laughs.

“Can you just front me one?” you reply back flatly

“Why should I?”

“If you give me one I wont tell mom you were smoking in the house again.” You counter.

“It’s the garage so technically not the house and whatever you know they wont do anything”

“She can have one of mine?” a voice sparks up behind Kai, drawing your attention to the guitarist. A girl named Ellie. She and Kai had been longtime friends and bandmates. You barely knew anything about her other than she was in Kai’s grade, one above yours, but you knew her. You knew her eye color, her favorite flannel she wore a little too often. You knew she got a new guitar last year, and a fresh tattoo this year that shined under the garage light as she held up a joint in your direction.

You also knew that this was one of the only times she had ever spoken to you. Not like you were around each other often but you almost felt like she would try to avoid you when she was over. Shocked, but with adrenaline pumping you took your chance, walking over to Ellie. She still had her guitar hanging around her, flannel sleeves rolled up, her hair was a bit disheveled from playing, strands falling out of her half up hair do.

She hands you the joint with a sideways smile, and her eyes glint a bit.

“Thanks, you’re so much nicer than my brother” you scoff, giving her a smile back. You turn to leave, flipping off Kai as you bound out the door, leaving the band members commotion in the garage. Not seeing Kai chuck a drumstick at Ellie who dodges it with a laugh.

The success of getting a joint over shined the butterflies fluttering in your stomach from that look she gave you. The sun hit your face as you got outside and you were only looking forward to your solo date in the forest.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting slowly, but from where you were in the woods shade had taken over your spot. You had smoked, worked on your art, and walked along the water looking for rocks. Hanging out in the forest for a few hours always rejuvenated you in a way you couldn’t explain. But you started to get cold and decided now was a good time to head home. While packing up you realized you had pretty bad cotton mouth from the joint, so you planned to stop by the corner store.

It wasn’t a long walk but by the time you got to the corner store it was dusk. Street lights started sparking up like stars in the night sky. You opened the glass door and walked in, perusing the aisles for any snack or drink that could satiate your munchies. You were contemplating between an iced tea or a soda when the doorbell rang as someone walked in the store. You barely noticed the bell, or the girl walking up behind you until she spoke.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?”

You jump, previously lost in your thoughts, you turn around to see Ellie standing there. She was wearing a hoodie now, her guitar in its case strapped to her back.

“Oh my god you scared me!” you say, almost dropping the bottles in your hands.

“Sorry! Didn't mean to!” Ellie laughs, moving around you to open the fridge door next to you and grab a coke. “Funny running into you here” she says, a little awkward you note.

“I mean my house is only a few blocks away,” you laugh.

“Mm ya i guess so, you getting both of those?” Ellie looks down at the bottles in your hand.

“Oh um, I'm getting this one.” you hold up the iced tea & go to put back the soda. Before you could think Ellie takes the iced tea from your hand and starts walking towards the front of the store.

“Hey wait!” you look at her confused.

“Oh do you want something else princess?” Ellie turns back to look at you with a smirk.

Sparks ignite in your stomach, confused but now flustered, your mind swirling. You finally get a word out, “no, just that” and Ellie turns back to walk towards the cash register.

You follow her, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Ellie and you had barely spoken to each other before this. And now she's acting so casually around you, and what did she call you? Everything happened so fast you barely caught it but reflecting back now, did she call you princess?

Ellie pays for the two drinks and you walk out together, taking your ice tea from her once outside.

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that” you say, unscrewing the top and taking a refreshing sip.

“Don't mention it” Ellie says, “So are you going back home now?”

“Mhm yeah, what about you?”

“Yeah I was, but it's getting dark now, i’ll walk you back home first” Ellie says with a smile.

“Who said chivalry was dead” you joke, it was a nice gesture, as much as you were confused by Ellie’s sudden intentions you couldn’t help but feel a type of way when she looked at you. Her green eyes danced over your face like she was memorizing your features. You wondered if she always looked at you this way?

She had. Ellie for the past few years had been keeping such a distance from you because when you were around she felt her whole body tense up. She felt like she was on fire if you looked in her direction. And god help her if she tried to speak around you, she ended up tripping over her words and losing her train of thought. Truthfully, she didn't know what magical queer fairy blessed her with the confidence to talk to you today. But she had taken in a chance earlier in the garage, and when she saw you in the store she knew it wasn't a coincidence.

The walk back to your house was short, only a few blocks. You and Ellie joke together and talk about summer plans in the meantime. Both of you slightly high still, making your balance shifty, occasionally you would brush shoulders, sending sparks down each other's spines.

When you get to your house you stop at the walk way, a little awkwardly since you knew Ellie had been in your house before.

“Thanks for walking me home! And buying me this, um and the joint '' you say, taking in all of Ellie’s courtesy today, a little unsure what to do with yourself.

“Any time!” Ellie says with a smile, she fidgets where she stands for a second before reaching her hand up to your face. She tucks a small strand of hair behind your ear, without breaking eye contact.

“Have a good night y/n” and with that she turns around and walks away, putting up her hood.

She left you solidified on the sidewalk, body unmoving but nerves on fire with a simple touch. You float for the next hour or so, barely registering going into your house and up to your room. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, and why now? And why so suddenly?

Later that night you receive a notification on Instagram

* @www.ellie followed you *

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #the last of us

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empress-simps · 1 month

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Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #soulmate au #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter #angst with a happy ending #sirius orion black #regulus black

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Text

As My Own

Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .

Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.

WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.

Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?

Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.

Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.

Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.

If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.

------

Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.

When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?

It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.

His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.

He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.

"Dinner time with Roomie~"

The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.

(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.

Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.

Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.

-----

The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.

The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.

The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.

"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."

"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"

Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.

"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.

"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"

"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."

You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"

Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.

"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"

Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.

"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.

"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"

"You're graduated?"

"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.

"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.

"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."

Jeesh

Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.

"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"

She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.

Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.

But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.

Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.

"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."

"But I can't... afford it-"

"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.

You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you

She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.

You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.

"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.

"I..."

"Sorry if I'm overstepping"

"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."

"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed

"I can't have them"

Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.

"Infertility?"

"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."

You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.

"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."

Could have been

" To me, you... you are."

Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest

"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.

"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."

Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you

"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"

"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"

But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.

Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare

"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly

"No, Gabi, cariño-"

"You can meet him this weekend!"

"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"

"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."

You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.

"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."

"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"

"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.

-----

Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.

In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.

Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"

------

3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.

Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.

Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.

"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.

"Sorry for... the late hour."

"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.

"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.

"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.

"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.

"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."

His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.

"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"

"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"

Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.

"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.

"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.

"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.

"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Miguel entered in spectator mode.

"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"

"Can I have it tomorrow?"

"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.

Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.

"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."

"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.

"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"

"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.

Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.

" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."

"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."

"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.

"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."

"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine

"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."

"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."

"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."

Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.

"I hope she hasn't-"

"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."

"It's the people around her that I don't trust"

"Ouch..."

"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together

"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"

You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.

"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.

"What about, today at 7 pm?"

"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.

"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)

You just laughed and put the food in the fridge

"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"

"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."

"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.

"Sleep well, Papa."

He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.

------—----

And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.

Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.

Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom

"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.

--------

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."

"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"

Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.

"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."

"That doesn't mean I can't try-"

"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked

"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.

"I think it's time to try something new."

"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face

"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."

"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."

"Ouch."

--------

Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.

To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.

It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.

Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.

"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.

Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.

And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.

"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.

"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"Missed you, preciosa".

What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.

He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.

Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.

He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #dad miguel o'hara #gabi o'hara #Fluff #miguel fluff #miguel o'hara fluff #fem reader #atsv fluff #astv fanfic

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star-suh · 4 months

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Hardcore

Bang Chan x Male Reader

cw: idol au, dom top chan, pwp, facesitting, deepthroat, hair pulling, marking, spanking, slapping, choking, degradation, fisting, gaping hole, bit of dumbification, jackhammering, mating press, breeding, cum swallowing, hate sex, ripping clothes, cockwarming.

an: 😬 this man makes me go feral sometimes

—

yn was laying in the couch, his head hanging over one side of it. gurgling sounds could be heard in the living room, chan was there fucking the other's mouth “fuck at least that throat of yours can do wonders with my cock. you really know how to milk one hmm?” he slapped yn's cheeks and resumed his pace, forcing the other to deepthroat him. “maybe this is the only way to make you shut the fuck up for once”.

chan an yn were idols, each one from a different group, and they just began to hate each other for an unknown reason. every time they passed each other in the backstage of the music shows or year-end awards shows they looked at each other with anger plastered in their eyes, those glares were like hundreds of daggers stabbing at each other. until finally one day the tension exploded, their companies contacted them to do a collaboration (as a way to put an end to the rumors that the two hate each other's guts) and that's how we ended up here right now, chan banging the other's mouth, pulling his hair to thrust hard and deep.

with some final thrust chan came inside yn's throat clogging it with his thick cum, the other trying to swallow it but ended up spitting some of it “fucking asshole i almost choke–” not wanting to hear his annoying voice chan sat on top of yn, riding his face. chan gets up so that yn can breathe a little and sits on him again, repeating the action a few more times.

yn was stunned, there was so much happening that he doesn't realize when chan rips his shorts and underwear leaving his ass bare, “what the fuck you son of a bitch those were my favorite shorts”, “ask me how many fucks do i give” the other responded.

without warning chan impaled his thick fuckmeat on the tight hole, drawing a guttural moan out of him “you… asshole” tears rolled down his face while he punches chan in his chest “you're breaking me in.. hngh.. half.. you. bastard”..

chan positioned yn in a doggy style with the excuse of not wanting to see his face “this way i won't feel so disgusted” he mentioned. yn didn't pay attention to him since the only thing he focused on was how good chan's cock felt inside him. chan began to spank yn, enjoying the recoil caused by that and how it was slowly taking on a reddish color.

looking for a way to be able to thrust much rougher chan put his hands on the sides of yn's neck and began to choke him, also using it to push yn back so his cock goes deeper. yn's eyes were rolled back, spit coming out of his mouth, sex was clouding his mind and all he wanted now was to cum and get it over with quickly.

the room was now a mess, it reeked of sex and sweat, chan and yn have been fucking for hours. in the mating press position and he squeezed so hard that chan had no choice but to release his load inside the other. “why the fuck do you came inside.. it's disgusting coming from you” yn slapped chan but he didn't seem to like it, so he decided to do some payback, "fine, you son of a bitch, if that's what you want, then i'm going to get all my semen out of you. just don't complain later” suddenly, yn found himself in the jackhammering position. chan was being much rougher than he had been before, his cock never failing to hit that sweet spot. when he emptied his second load inside of yn chan said in a mocking voice “ow.. i'm so sorry yn i came inside you again”, “you did it on purpose you fu-aughng!!” yn cried feeling a sudden stretch, then he realizes chan was fisting him. his fist going in and out smeared with his semen "what do you think now yn? should i continue until there is not a single drop of cum inside?", yn could feel chan's fist making its way into his insides, how the knuckles scratched his prostate deliciously, he could feel every vein in chan's muscular arm "you're going to pay… for this.. augh.." he cried.

after finishing his fisting session, chan stopped to appreciate yn's destroyed hole, how agape it was and how it was clenching into nothing "it's cute how he tries to wink at me" chan joked, “i don't think you're going to be able to walk these days”.

chan folded yn and resume the fucking, but this time the thrusts were sloppier yn could feel that chan was already reaching his peak and that was when he took advantage and started scratching chan's back leaving long red and burning marks as part of his revenge, in addition to biting and twisting his nipples and punching his firm delicious pecs, "let's see how you'll cover those marks, imbecil” yn laughed with the last strength he had...

the next day yn woke up feeling sore down there and feeling a heavy weight on top of him, then chan wakes up too, realizing that they both fell asleep on top of each other with the top's cock still inside yn's ass "get off of me" yn pushes chan and when he tried to sit up he couldn't due to the pain he was feeling "hahaha deserved" chan laughs. suddenly he feels a slap on his back that hurt his wounds making him scream in pain "goddamn it… it hurts a lot”. “deserved" yn murmurs, struggling to stand up to go to the shower.

#bang chan x male reader #christopher chan x male reader #christopher bang chan x male reader #bang chan x male reader smut #christopher chan x male reader smut #bang chan smut #christopher chan smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #stray kids x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids smut #skz smut

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tragedybunny · 8 months

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Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion sometimes has trouble sleeping now that he no longer can walk in the sun.

The sun is high overhead, the daylight shining at its brightest, playing off the water dancing in the fountain below the window of your rented room. The inn is nice, the owner a sweet older lady who doesn't ask questions about unusual sleeping habits of guests. Turning back from the window, you draw the drapes over it, shutting off the light from the room. "You need to get some sleep, love."

Astarion looks up from where he was seated on the bed reading, a safe distance from errant sunbeams and sighs, reluctant even if he's clearly exhausted. "I know, you don't need to fuss over me all the time," he snaps the book shut to accent his peevish tone. You don't respond, giving his temper a moment to cool. Red eyes look down at the floor after a second, "I'm sorry darling, you know I hate it. And it feels worse today."

Ever since he had to go back to life out of the sun, sleeping has been fraught for him. Some days, like today, he's put it off for several days, and he's weary and irritable. "I know." Crossing the room, you take his hands. "It's alright,” your hands squeeze his, “but I really can’t have you on the road to Waterdeep this exhausted.” Despite the way he's changed, Astarion is Astarion, and you love all of him, even the parts that are still hurt and angry.

“Why couldn’t Gale just teleport us or something? He’s a shit wizard.” You almost retort about him insulting his friends, but then his lips reverently kiss both your hands. "Lay down with me for a little while?"

"Of course." Letting go of his hands, you wait until he's under the covers and then lay down next to him, arm wrapped protectively over him.

This has become something of a ritual between the two of you whenever he’s afraid to sleep. Some days he’s afraid he’ll wake back up in Cazador’s manor, some days it’s fear that you’ll be gone when sunset comes, and on others, it’s the memory of faces, lured to their doom in the night. Only once did you make the mistake of walking away after an argument, and leaving him trapped alone in the day. You’d found him after, curled up under a blanket, terrified you’d never come back, knowing he couldn’t even try to find you until after dark. It had taken almost a week to get him to sleep again. Gently, you kiss the top of his head and run a hand through his silver curls. “Love you Sunlight,” his eyes have finally closed and you can feel him relaxing.

“Love you too, Starry Sky.” Very softly, you start to sing a lullaby, one your favorite Nurse used to sing to you, an ancient tune, passed down for generations. Your noble parents didn’t necessarily make a loving childhood a priority, but you do have more warm memories than him, and this is one of the few ways you can share them. Fingers move from his hair to his back, tenderly stroking it while you sing. The way he responds to the old Elven song, you wonder if someone sang it to him over two hundred years ago, someone who loved him just as much as you do now.

“Promise you’ll be here when I wake up,” he murmurs, half-asleep at last.

“I promise Astarion, I’ll always be here.”

#astarion #bladur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!reader

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kyufessions · 3 months

Text

sweetheart

synopsis: your annoying neighbor bothers you yet again

pairings: neighbor! eric x afab! reader

genre: smut, 18+

request: “open your mouth” + “why so shy?”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: spitting, oral (f. receiving), making out, playful teasing, pet name (sweet heart), lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i’m writing this half asleep so it’s not proofread whatsoever,, oopsies

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois @haechansbbg

tbz taglist: @ilovechanhee

Only if everyone knew. Only if everyone knew that the boy next door you always swore annoyed you to your very core since you had first moved in over ten years ago, would meet you in your old tree house that stood between both of your houses at ungodly hours. With what started as another night wanting to get away from one of your family’s parties, turned into heated makeout sessions that led to what anyone would imagine.

Throughout the years, your father had been kind enough to re-do the treehouse. Seeing as you still adored it, he re-vamped it to make it seem more private and to your liking since you were now in your early 20’s. There was even a small makeshift door and small windows with curtains that you often kept closed- it was your favorite place to get away from madness when your room wasn’t cutting it. That was- until one spring night.

You had been in your treehouse reading a new novel you had bought at your local barnes and nobles, your lamp on and one of curtains slightly open to enjoy the slight breeze. Tonight your parents had some guests over from work, their conversations and jazzy background music being too loud for your liking. So you quietly made your way to your treehouse and enjoying your time alone until you heard some rocks being thrown at the door. Groaning, you ignored the disturbance. You knew exactly who it was and you did not want to deal with him tonight. One more rock, two, even three more were thrown. Thats when you stood up and fully opened up the half drawn curtain, looking down to see the annoying boy next door.

He stood there with his devilish grin, wearing a white tank and his baseball varsity jacket from the college he attended. He waved hello as soon as he saw you looking down at him, catching a glimpse of you from the limited lighting. “What do you want eric?” you shouted down, making sure your voice was only able to be heard between you both and not to disrupt what was happening inside your home.

He shrugged, his grin never fading. “I’m bored.” as you rolled your eyes and started to pull back down the curtain, he yelled back out to you. “Wait!”

You shushed him right away, his voice too loud for your liking. As you motion for him to come up the wooden ladder, he does as instructed and you watch as he climbs up halfway before you stop him with your words. “What do you want?” you ask again, annoyance stringing through your voice.

His lips form another shit eating grin. “I’m bored and saw the light on.”

“Find someone else to bother.” you start to close the door but see his hand stop it from closing.

Before you can begin to speak up again, eric decides to first. “Come on, i’ll stay in the corner and let you do your own thing. I won’t bother you. I just don’t want to be in my house right now and am grounded from using my car.”

“Is no an option?” you ask him with a puff. With a swift shake of his head, you open the door fully and allow him inside.

He looks around in amazement at the fairy lights and overall set up, noticing how you plop back on the mini couch you have set up in the corner. His eyes scan over a small drawer with a chipped paint job, old drawings and paintings hanging throughout that’s barely holding on with tape and some nails. There are some obvious new items hanging about and some older ones, and he quietly takes note of that as he walks around to inspect. As he does so, you occasionally glance at him to make sure hes not touching anything he isn’t supposed to. After a little more snooping, he takes a seat on the floor and starts aimlessly scrolling through his phone while you continue to read your novel.

Minutes pass in pure silence- nothing but the occasional hoot from a faraway owl and the distanced sound of jazz music from your home below. That was, until eric opened tiktok. His volume was louder than necessary, his laughter echoing in your ears. You try to continue your reading, trying to be the nice guy. But it felt as if each tiktok he watched just made him laugh harder than the last. You make a mental note of the page you stop on before closing your book and looking over at him, your face blank with irritation.

“If you’re going to be in here, can you at least quiet down? I’m trying to read my book.” your eyes finally meet and he just chuckles, getting up off the floor and walking over towards you.

“What’re you reading anyway?”

You clear your throat before speaking as he inches closer, trying to keep your book close to hide it from him. “None of your business, just please keep it down.”

Eric notices you trying to keep the book from him and as he steps closer he tries reaching for it but failing as you hold it closer to you. He scoffs, trying to reach for it again. “Why so shy about it, huh?” his tone is playful, his eyes beaming with curiosity as he tries to sneak a peek of the cover. You try moving your body to hide it from him but as you’re squirming, he snatches up the book and examines the cover. A small laugh leaves his lips as he notices the explicit cover, your face turning a slight shade of pink as he then reads the first page that started off juicy. When he looks down at you, your cheeks are now red and your eyes wide. “This is the shit you read?”

You stand up and grab the book back from his hands, or at least attempt to before he raises it above your head with a smirk. The height difference between you both wasn’t much, but the fact he was also wearing grey sweats right now didn’t really help the burning sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. To say eric was ugly would be the biggest lie- you actually found him quite attractive. He was just annoying and pestered you often, but he was quite handsome. As his hand was held above you, your book in his hand, you can notice his peaking bicep from under his varsity jacket.

Your silence and wandering eyes failed you as eric took note of this. “Checking me out, huh?”

As you're snapped out of your daze by his words, you jump up and grab the book from his hand successfully and try to move around him to leave but fail. Although your treehouse is spacious, it’s not the biggest either. So now you’re backed into a corner by the hot annoying neighbor who just found out you read smut. Cool. you just sit down on the small couch, puffing in annoyance in an attempt to hide how flustered you’ve become.

“No i’m not.”

His index and middle finger tap the right side of your cheek, a smirk playing on his lips. “Your red cheeks say otherwise, sweetheart.”

Normally you'd swat away his hand, but as you looked in his eyes you felt the air catch in your throat. You felt as if time had stopped due to the close proximity you both were in. the little nickname that normally bothered you made your stomach churn with butterflies, your hands gripping your book tighter.

you tried to hide it once more, trying to keep your tone high and mighty. “don’t call me sweetheart.”

“then try to act like you don’t like it and maybe i will.” eric then squats so he’s now eye level with you, his fingers tracing from your cheek all the way down your neck and to your shoulder ever so gracefully as he does so. your eyes just watch him, unsure of what this feeling is that’s come over you. his head tilts, his face amused by this. “does mommy and daddy know you read smut all up here by yourself?”

eric had always seen you as this goody-two-shoes; mommy and daddy’s most prized possession who always got fantastic grades and went to one of the best colleges the states had to offer. throughout the past ten years, he had always seen you achieve the highest possible grades with honors just to seek your parents approval. never brought over a guy, your nose always buried in a book whether it be for your studies or for fun. he also noticed how your hair never failed to be done perfectly, different colored bows or hair accessories to match your dress or skirt. you always had to present the world with this perfect image of you, and he was just so curious to get to know you deeper than this facade you try to sell everyone you come across.

he watches you shake your head, no words being spoken as you seem choked up. your eyes sparkle under the dimly lit fairy lights as they glare at him, causing him to chuckle lowly yet again. “what if they found out?”

“don’t you fucking dare eric sohn-“

“ah ah,” he slips the book from your hands, placing it beside you. “why don’t we put page one to the test?”

your eyes widen, eyebrows raising. “e-excuse me?”

eric slips off his varsity jacket, tossing it on top of your book. “i skimmed the page over. doesn’t ellen get eaten out, or am i mistaken?” you’re left speechless, yet your face continues to redden all over. eric has thought about this for years but never thought this day would come, only in his wildest of dreams.

eric stands up a little bit to hover over you, lifting your chin and leaning down to rest his forehead against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. his hair is messy, probably from the baseball practice he had earlier in the day. your lips are inches from his, yet not a word can be spoken as you’re just in shock.

“all you have to do is tell me to stop and i will.” is all eric whispers before placing his lips on yours.

both of your lips move in sync with one another, his fitting perfectly on yours. his hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek, his entire palm cupping it and his fingers placing themselves on the nape of your neck. his touch sends shivers down your spine, his fingertips delicate and careful. his other hand moves to your left thigh, starting to spread it apart from your right one. but you don’t stop him, something within you tells you to allow him. as he bites down on your bottom lip, his hand on your thigh travels to the inner part and stops near your panties. his fingertips graze your folds, the lace material feeling good against his skin.

the sound of your whimper against his lips makes his blood rush, separating his lips from yours. for a few moments he just stares down at you, taking in the view of your wide innocent eyes and puffy pink lips. “fuck you’re so pretty, you know that?”

eric then gets on his knees in front of you, and you watch as he slips off your white silk pleated skirt and stare at your pussy in awe. “all wet for me already, sweetheart?” you bite your lower lip as you watch him, arching your back against the wall at the nickname.

his fingers push the fabric aside, the fingertips grading your folds ever so slightly to take in the beauty for a second. he grins up at you before slipping in one finger, earning a gasp from you. eric starts slow, pumping in and out of you teasingly. he just stares up at you the whole time, taking in the beauty of your reactions. he watches your hand involuntarily reach for his hair, tugging on it once he picks up the pace out of satisfaction. you let out quiet moans as he slips in a second finger, not wanting anyone to potentially hear anything happening up in the treehouse.

after a few moments of his second finger, he puts his mouth to your clit. with this sudden movement you throw your head back, starting to grind against his face. eric takes in every movement you make, enjoying how you use him for your advantage to release. his fingers continue pumping in and out of you at a consistent pace, his tongue occasionally moving in and out of your hole as his lips continue to satisfy you. as your breathing pattern picks up and your legs begin shaking, he knew it was only a few seconds before you climaxed.

once you did, you let out a loud moan and eric took in every juice you offered to him. he begins licking you up, cleaning you up the only way he’s currently able to. he then leans up, grabbing you by the cheek and staring down at your tired face.

“open your mouth, baby.” he murmurs. you do as instructed, allowing him to spit in your mouth. you watch him through half-lidded eyes, smirking as you take in the taste he offers you.

and that’s the night where it all started, your friends with benefits relationship with your annoying neighbor.

#kyufessions the boyz #the boyz #the boyz eric #eric sohn #tbz eric #tbz smut #the boyz smut #eric smut #eric sohn smut #🌙 completed requests

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iarrelm · 2 months

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Hazbin Hotel Swap AU - Charlie. Vaggie. Angel Dust.

Alastor, Husk, and Nifty

Here's the other half of my swap au! I think Charlie and Angel were my favorites out of the six to draw lol

Charlie -> Alastor

In this AU, Charlie's thoughts on sinners are more heavily influenced by Lucifer instead of her mother. Somewhere deep down she still really cares for her people and hates seeing the exterminations come every year, but after spending some time walking around them, a part of her also thinks they might deserve it sometimes.

She's still pretty estranged from her father. She's sort of angry that she's so influenced by him because she wants to love her people so much.

Because of that, she also makes sure to get a much better handle on her demonic powers.

When Lilith goes missing, Charlie decides to start taking a more active role in hell by making deals with sinners.

Mostly, what they consist of is her just asking them to be better. Some of the sinners do take the request from Charlie seriously, but most of them break the deal the moment she leaves their sight.

Does she do anything about those demons? Well, violating a deal with the Princess of Hell does have consequences. :)

(She doesn't do much. She just scares them a little bit.)

Word spread around that the Princess was making deals and some details may have been embellished a bit. Rumors snowballed and eventually she become someone to be avoided at all costs.

She happened to hear about the Hazbin Hotel by chance as she walked by a shop with an old radio in front of it.

She tells Alastor that the only reason she's helping is because she's bored. Everyone else in Hell is avoiding her, after all.

She actually desperately wants to be proven wrong about sinners. She wants to see that they'll try to be better not because she's threatening them to, but because they want to.

Vaggie -> Nifty/Husk

Brought in by Charlie to be the hotel's housekeeper. She has zero experience with this job, but she's a quick learner and Nifty is a decent teacher when she doesn't just grab the mop or broom and do it herself.

She owes Charlie her life. She never made any kind of deal with Charlie, but after Charlie saved her from bleeding out in an alley, she'd do anything to help the demon out.

The two of them aren't dating, because Charlie is under the impression that Vaggie is a sinner. And because of her complicated thoughts on sinners, not to mention the hostile way Vaggie interacts with other people, they didn't end up becoming very close.

Vaggie also doesn't really trust Charlie completely. She seems friendly on the outside, but the deal making seems sketchy.

Vaggie is still a fallen angel/exorcist. And because Charlie has some level of distrust towards other demons, she suspects that something is off but doesn't have enough information to confirm anything.

After being brought to the hotel, she mostly avoids everyone and does her work quietly.

Angel Dust -> Husk/Nifty

Instead of meeting Valentino, he met Charlie.

He was the first sinner that she ever made a deal with. In exchange for her protection, he would do her a favor.

When Angel first heard that he wanted to laugh, but she reminded him a bit of his sister. Not to mention, who better to make a deal with than the Princess of Hell herself, right? He supposes owing her a favor isn't the worst thing in the world.

Because he doesn't make a deal with Valentino, he never moves into the Vee's Tower, which means he spends a lot more time on the street trying to find a place to stay. It leads him to figuring out exactly what to say and do to get a free room for a night until he can find some way to pay for his own.

Charlie offers to help him get his own place but he declines because even if he does feel a bit of a soft spot for her, he doesn't really trust her yet.

He gets really good at reading people. He can tell at a glance if someone is worth trying to talk into letting him stay for a night or two. And also whether or not they'd be dangerous to try convincing as well.

After awhile he ends up meeting Charlie more and more often and eventually they become friends. By that point, their deal has been paid, but now they help each other out just because.

When Charlie calls him to the hotel, he's happy to help. He's the second most enthusiastic person about the hotel, right behind Nifty.

He doesn't know shit about bartending though. He's pretty bad at mixing drinks, but he is really good at charming people, so that makes up for it. Most of the time.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel swap au #charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #my art #i had the most fun designing charlie and angel #charlie's outfit is more inspired by lucifers with the coat tails and boots #and for angel's i looked up bartender outfits and the striped vests they wear looked amazing on him #this au is an excuse for me to think about slowburn chaggie enemies to friends to lovers 50k words

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joeloverture · 12 days

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comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n] word count: 2.7k a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).

It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.

You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.

It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.

FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.

If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.

Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.

Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.

“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.

“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”

Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”

“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”

Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.

“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”

The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.

Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”

Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can.

“I– what?”

“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.

Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck.

You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”

“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.

There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.

Dead fucking end.

An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.

“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.

You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.

“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists.

All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–

“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–

You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.

Stupid. Fucking. Idea.

Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.

“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.

He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–

“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”

“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”

You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”

Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.

You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.

Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.

You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.

The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.

Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.

“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.

A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.

You still.

Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.

He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.

“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”

You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs.

Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.

You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.

Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.

He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper.

You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–

Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you.

The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire.

Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?”

He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.

“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller/reader #joel miller fic #writing challenge 2.0

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runnning-outof-time · 9 months

Text

Back To Her | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: It’s been years since Tommy and (Y/N) have last seen each other…will it be a bad thing now that he’s finally found his way back to her?

Warnings: language, drinking, mentions of minor character death

Word Count: 4355

A/N: oh my does it feel good to be writing again. I don’t quite know what this one is, but the ending of it is one of my absolute favorites. I hope you don’t mind how long it is - it kind of grew a mind of its own. I hope you’ll stick with it though. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

Tommy Shelby tugged on his tie, straightening it out as he waited with a lump in his throat. What was taking so long? The maid must've told him to wait in this room several minutes ago. Each second was dragging on and it seemed as though his heart rate was increasing because of it.

This mansion had felt so foreign, yet so familiar at the same time. Even from only being in the foyer and the drawing room, he could see the subtle intricacies that the woman he was meeting used to talk and dream about having one day. Seeing them brought to fruition here - in the grandest scale possible - filled him with a sense of elation, a feeling that had been tucked deeply away and probably hadn't seen the light of day since he last heard her speak. One that he still felt that day, even though the words she spoke struck him deeper than any bullet had.

They hadn't left off on the best of terms, but she wished him the best. Now he was wondering if the time that was put between them turned things sour, and if she would even want him to be here. He'd stand and bear it though. He needed to see her again, even if it meant he'd be admonished for it.

The thought made him tug on his tie again, wanting it to be perfect for her. He wanted everything to be perfect for her. Maybe if she approached him and he asked that question - if everything had turned out to be perfect for her, and she gave her response and nothing else, he’d consider this a victory.

Footsteps then echoed throughout one of the grandiose hallways. Soon enough, a voice was heard: "who are you?"

——

-1919-

"Arthur Shelby! I'm going to need you to tell me what you said last night at the Garrison, but this time don't leave the parts that Tommy wouldn't want me to hear out," (Y/N) announced as she marched into the Shelby family's Watery Lane home.

She hoped that the eldest Shelby sibling was present and heard her exclamation - after all, he wasn't in his other, usual places. Her hopes were fulfilled when she found him draped across the couch in the sitting room; looking quite like death personified.

"Oi, what're you screamin' for, (Y/N)?" Arthur questioned, just barely lifting his head up from the couch's arm.

"I'm unhappy, Arthur," she started with a huff, dropping her hands to her hips before she continued, "you had me up half the night just thinking, and now Tommy's been acting weird around me...I need to get to the bottom of this."

"The bottom of what?" he still sounded confused.

"The plan of Tommy's you were telling me about," she wasted no time in telling him. "You were saying something...something about an opportunity being dropped into his lap; one that doesn't come around often," she continued on, hoping to jog his memory, "what was the opportunity, Arthur?"

Arthur furrowed his brows together as he racked his brain. What was he telling her last night? He couldn't quite remember. She was looking at him expectantly though, and he became more worried by the minute that she'd pounce if he made her wait for too long.

"What has Tommy been planning?" she asked another question after a few moments of silence had passed.

"He's..." he trailed off, swallowing as he prepared himself for what would follow, and also hoping that the pause would buy him more time, "(Y/N), he's found something, and it's something that's going to help us all out."

"What is it, Arthur?" she asked for more detail, becoming slightly upset that it wasn't shared with her outright.

"They're guns," he finally told the secret, "government guns, and at first I didn't understand why he was keeping them, but Tommy's got a plan, he's..."

"Oh he's got a plan, huh?" (Y/N) cut into his statement, a snort following her question.

"He does! He said that he's going to keep them in our corner and use them to bargain. Polly's tried to tell him to get rid of them, but he won't listen. It's no use going against it; we might as well ride it out," he tried to get her to understand how he was looking at the situation.

(Y/N) wasn't buying into it. "This is how it's always been, Arthur...Tommy has a plan, Tommy stays steadfast on said plan, and then usually the bloody plan blows up in all of our faces!"

"This one feels different though, (Y/N)," Arthur stated, sounding a bit like he wasn't up for the argument he was currently in.

"I think I'll have to be the judge of that," she huffed, running a stressed hand over her forehead, "these plans'll be what kills him one day...I just know it," she muttered then, shaking her head as she looked down to the ground.

Arthur sat up straight after hearing her musings. His brows were furrowed as he trained his eyes on her. He could tell the amount of struggle that was going on inside her mind, and it was clear how Tommy's dealings were affecting her. "Here, come have a seat," he said, waving his arm in her direction as a physical cue.

(Y/N) glanced over at him, seeing the compassionate look on his face. She then exhaled a sigh and made her way over to the empty space on the couch, sitting down and resting her head against its back.

"Tommy and his plans can get to be a bit much," he started off. (Y/N) held back her snort. "He's wantin' us to trust him on this one though. We've gotta see it through."

(Y/N) was unsure of what to say. So many things were running through her mind at the moment; so many different scenarios and ways that this plan could bring about a terrible end. Instead of voicing any of those worries, she said nothing.

—

Tommy was sitting at one of the main tables in the betting shop, reading through some of the recent race outlooks when the door to the shop opened. He looked up and found (Y/N) walking further into the room. Before he could say anything, she stormed right past him, going over to the doors that connected to the Shelby's living quarters so that she could lock them. He sat and watched as she moved about the room, checking the various doors and making sure that they were all locked.

"Something happening?" he decided to ask her after she went back to the door she entered through and locked that one as well, "anything I should be worried about?"

"No," her answer was abrupt, "just wanted to make sure that I could speak to you without any interruptions," she moved over to the table he was sitting at.

Tommy watched her intently as she sat down across from him, clasping her hands together on top of the table as she looked at him expectantly. "Heard anything from Ada?" he decided to ask, wondering if this could be about his sister, who'd been effectively avoiding him for the last few weeks.

"No, this isn't about her," she answered, shaking her head slightly. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness at the mention of her best friend, who'd practically disappeared. She remembered the last time they spoke; how Ada had told her that she needed to break away, to live and make decisions for herself. She was happy for her friend in doing that, but it didn't make the distance hurt less.

"What is it then?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised slightly as he waited for what she had to say.

"Pol said you're going to the derby..." she started off, trying to keep her voice level while her stomach did flips. She knew that this conversation wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was one she needed to have.

"I am...John and Arthur are also. There's an important matter of business involving Kimber that we need to see to," he answered.

Fucking Kimber. Hearing his name made her frustrated. It had been the talk of every family meeting since he found his way into Birmingham a few weeks ago. "She also told me that you're taking Grace. Tommy why are you bringing the fucking barmaid with you to the races?" she asked the question that had been stewing in her mind since she became aware of these plans.

"I can't tell you, (Y/N)," he responded, speaking in a low voice so as to keep his frustration down...he couldn't keep having all of this questioning happen.

"You do know what this looks like though, don't you? You, taking the barmaid to the races instead of the woman you're with; the woman you've been with. This will make people 'round here talk, Tommy, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to take that. Tell me why...tell me, why her?" (Y/N) doubled down, feeling more and more sick with each word she'd said.

She'd been with him for years now. They’d gotten together before the war and she stayed steadfast by his side through the conflict, promising him that she'd be there for him once he came out on the other side. There were hard times...really hard times, but she relented, staying by his side through them. Now she was starting to panic. Was he going to throw it all away over a barmaid?

"They'll talk, but their words will hold no truth, love," Tommy decided to reply to one part of her statement. Of course, it wasn't the one (Y/N) was looking for answers to.

"Why are you bringing her?" she asked yet again, shortening down her questioning to get right to the point.

"I can't say why. It's part of the plan, and you just need to trust me on it." (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but he continued before she could get a word out, "this is as hard on me as it is you."

(Y/N) pursed her lips upon hearing the second half of his statement. She didn't quite know what to think and was shocked that he could make a blanket statement like that one. It took a few moments for her to speak again. "That's rich of you to say, Tommy. For you to use such a statement to try and compare your feelings and thoughts to mine, especially when you know what it is that's going on. The plan is yours...you don't need the answers. And I've said it before that it'll be these bloody plans of yours that'll put you in the ground one day. I..." she paused, her voice wavering and all of the venom that had been building up vanished at once as she thought of what she'd say next. She took a deep breath before continuing. It's for the best. "I don't think I can be around it for one moment longer."

The words pained her to say, but she knew that they had to be said. And immediately she was having second thoughts on uttering them when she saw the drastic shift in Tommy's eyes. He may have closed himself off since coming home from France; considering himself dead and taking everything else that came to him as extra, but (Y/N) knew that she could still see his emotions through his eyes...and right now it looked as if he'd just taken a grave shot to the heart.

"What?" was all he was able to ask, his brows furrowing deeply together.

"I can't do this anymore...I can't jump from plan to plan and hope that you'll make it out alive from it. I love you too much to see it through. I think I need to go my own way now."

"It'll just be this one. One and done, (Y/N)," he tried to speak with as much reassurance as he could muster.

(Y/N) shook her head, a solemn look on her face, "it's never just 'one and done' with you, Tommy. You're a gambling man...you always have been. This plan'll work out, because they always seem to for you, and you'll become hungry for more. You'll keep going until it kills you, and I can't be around for that," she rehashed her words, showing him that she was staying steadfast on her stance. She then stood up and reached over the table to where his hand was sitting on it. Gingerly, she took hold of it, hating that doing so also brought their faces closer together. "I wish you all the best, Tommy, I really do. I love you," she spoke from the heart, her eyes not straying from his, even when her voice broke as she said the final three words.

She left without giving him the chance to respond. It was almost as if she knew that his words would pull her back in and assure her that everything would be ok...Tommy could convince someone just like that. But if she had stuck around, she would have seen that he had nothing left to say. He went to repeat the three word phrase that she ended off with, but it died on his lips as he watched what was possibly the best thing in his life walk away.

——

-1922-

Anxiousness was coursing through (Y/N)'s body. She fluffed out her dress for probably the hundredth time and listened to her friend tell her, yet again, that it was going to be ok. She didn't know why she was nervous. This was supposed to be the best day of her life, right? She'd found a man - a good man - and he was head over heels in love with her. Hell, she felt the same for him. Agreeing to marry him came without a doubt in her mind. So why was she a bundle of nerves now that she was only moments away from walking down the aisle?

The doors opened as she was trying to answer that question. There was no time left. In a short time, she'd become Mrs. Harold Drimouth.

——

-1925-

It felt good to have the family around again. It didn't take much for Tommy to notice the difference. Arrow House hadn't been this full of life since before he lost his wife.

Everyone had traveled in for the Christmas holiday. It was a big feat, but Tommy agreed to host everyone at his home. Charlie was thankful for the influx of children, and Tommy was happy he didn't have to be alone; especially after everything that occurred in Small Heath in the months prior. It was so far from a cause for celebration, but celebrate seemed to be all that they could do. They'd made it out of the vendetta alive...although that couldn't be said for every member of the Shelby family.

After dinner and the opening of the presents, several of the adults had decided to spend some time in one of the quieter sitting rooms while the children played with their toys in the adjacent room.

"If you really think of it...a celebration of this size wouldn't have even been thought of for us ten years ago," Ada mused, steering their previous conversation into a new direction.

"So much happens in that span of time. You only start to notice the differences when you look back on it," Polly added, looking at Ada and sending her a nod.

"We have Tommy and his ambitions to thank for it," Arthur called attention to the host of the party, raising his glass towards his younger brother, sparking a similar reaction from the rest in the room. Tommy only nodded his head in acknowledgement of his brother's statement, holding his whiskey up with the rest of the group before he went back to being focused on the fireplace.

"Do you remember that one Christmas we had back in Small Heath...before the war?" Ada then attempted to jog the group's memory, "(Y/N) and I stayed up half the night trying to get the gifts ready just to have John..." she paused, a smile forming on her face at the memory of her late brother while she took a moment to recollect her thoughts, "come in and start rooting through them because he couldn't remember if he'd gotten anything for anyone. I remember being so upset, but (Y/N) was ready to do them all up again."

"(Y/N)," Arthur began, letting a breath of a laugh out in the remembrance of her, "she was one of those kinds of women that you only meet once in your life."

"It's a shame no one kept in contact," Polly commented with a shake of her head.

"She left without a word. We couldn't have connected with her if we'd tried," Ada remarked, trying to stay stoic, but the guilt was apparent in her expression. Out of all of the Shelbys - excluding Tommy, obviously - (Y/N)'s leaving impacted her the most. They'd been through thick and thin together, so to come home and find that she was just gone struck a deep chord within the younger of the two women.

"You've not spoken to her at all, Tom, have ya?" Arthur decided to question the person who'd seen her last.

Tommy's gaze snapped away from the fire at the sound of his name, and although it took him a few beats to recall what the question was, he ultimately shook his head. "No," he started, shaking his head again, "no...she wished me the best and then she left. I've not heard from her since," he finished his statement by tipping back the rest of the contents in his glass. He then silently cursed it for there not being nearly as much alcohol as he needed at the moment.

All this talk of (Y/N) was leaving him reeling. From the first mention of her name, he'd been transported back to the times that he shared with her. She was his first...truly everything, and you really can't forget someone like that, no matter how much you try to, or who you attempt to move on with. Those memories were still as raw as the day they were made.

And so as the rest of his family continued on with sharing memories of the years gone by, Tommy found himself lost in a whirlwind of questions. He couldn't keep himself from wondering what had happened to (Y/N) since he last saw her, and how she fared out once she went her own way.

If he knew one thing for certain though, it was that he now needed to see her again. His main goal now was to find his way back to her.

——

"Who are you?" the voice came from the left side of the room. Tommy's eyes snapped over to see a young girl, probably around the age of four, standing in the opening of the hallway. Her head was tilted slightly, and he had to suppress a chuckle. She looked exactly like Charlie did when he was questioning something.

"I'm, um..." he began to speak, but more voices cut him off and made him look to his right.

"I was unaware of there being any scheduled visitors today." He knew that voice...he could recognize it anywhere.

"I know, Ms. Drimouth...this visitor was not on the schedule," the voice of the maid who'd escorted Tommy into the drawing room answered as their footsteps came closer.

Then she appeared. The breath instantly got caught in his throat when his eyes fell on her. She looked even more beautiful than the day she left. Seeing her made him feel like he was frozen. His mind was empty and now completely taken up by her.

"I'm so sorry, if I'd known I was expecting company, I would have worn something a bit more appropriate," (Y/N) stated, her eyes focused on her house dress as she fidgeted with it, trying to make herself look more acceptable.

"No, you look fine...beautiful, actually," Tommy said the first thing that came to his mind, and his words made (Y/N)'s eyes quickly snap up to see him. If he thought his breath was taken away before, now he was sure that his lungs had collapsed.

(Y/N) froze the second she saw who was waiting for her. She never thought she'd see Tommy Shelby again, let alone have him turn up at her estate unexpectedly. Everything else in the room seemed to disappear as her eyes stayed locked on him.

"Who is this, mummy?" the child's voice broke both adults out of their trances, making them realize that they weren't the only two in the room.

(Y/N) managed to break her eyes away from her first love to see her daughter, Margaret, looking between them in confusion. "Darling, this…this is an old friend. His name is Tommy, Tommy Shelby," she stuttered out an introduction. ‘Old friend’ was nowhere near what he was to her, but the label would do for now.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby," Margaret spoke properly, a smile present on her face as she looked up at the man dressed in black as if he was also a friend of hers.

"You as well, Margaret," Tommy managed to pry his eyes from (Y/N) for a few moments so that he could address the child.

"Maggie, why don't you go and find Bear to play with?" (Y/N) suggested, knowing that she didn't want to have her daughter present while she reconnected with Tommy.

"Yes, mummy," Margaret nodded before she exited the room the way she'd come in.

Neither Tommy nor (Y/N) knew what to say next. It felt like hours had passed with them being lost in each other's gaze before (Y/N) finally broke the silence, "you...you found me?" her voice inflected to make her words sound like a question, but she wasn't so sure if she intended it to be.

"I did. I...I went looking for you, exhausted every connection I had. I had to find you, (Y/N). I had to see you again," he answered her, not caring at the moment how this admission sounded.

"May I ask why?" she questioned, hating that the words sounded a little more snide that she wanted them to, "why now...after all these years have passed?"

"I wanted to apologize to you; for all that I put you through back then, and for the things that I left out. You deserved to know," he answered, his words holding an utmost sincerity.

"I wished you the best, and you went and made quite the name for yourself, Tommy Shelby," she commented, a smile forming on her face. She couldn't help but be proud of him. "Your name was spoken quite a few times amidst my late husband's circle."

"Late husband?" he asked, putting emphasis on the first word.

"He passed in 1924. Complications of an illness. Margaret was only two," she informed him, a tinge of sadness present in her voice. Tommy nodded at the information, a knowing look forming on his features. "Do you have anyone?" she decided to ask, hating that her heart rate increased while waiting for his answer.

"I did, but she died. I have a son, Charlie...he's four now," he offered some of his own life story.

"My daughter will be four come the end of the year," (Y/N) couldn't help but add, a small smile now present as she spoke of her pride and joy. Tommy sent a similar smile in response. It was so good to see her smile again.

Silence fell between them then, but it was one that felt comfortable. Tommy held his gaze on her for a few moments before ultimately being the one who broke it: "I, uh...I won't waste anymore of your time. I just wanted to say that I was sorry," he said to her, hating that it felt like his heart was breaking because she was leaving his life all over again.

Nothing more was said as he moved past her, heading to the archway of the foyer. He was just about to step through it when her voice stopped him: "Tommy wait!" it came out a little bit louder than she wanted it to, but it did its job in getting him to turn back around.

"Yeah?" his question came out like a breath, his heart rate increasing again.

"Maybe...maybe we should have dinner some time. There's a lot of catching up that's needed to be done between us," she offered a suggestion, biting on her lip to conceal her smile.

"I'd like to see you again, (Y/N)," he agreed with her in an instant, a ghost of a smile forming on his face.

"Very well," she tried to keep calm, but inside she was as giddy as a school girl, "how does tomorrow sound?"

"Perfect," he nodded.

——

-1927-

Anxiousness was the furthest thing from (Y/N)'s mind as she stood behind the closed doors of the church. Ada told her multiple times that everything was going to plan and that she'd be getting her turn next. (Y/N) didn't care to hear about the perfection...she'd go forward with doing this if it were happening in a field amidst a rainstorm.

She didn't know how she managed to have this be her life, how she had gotten lucky enough to be given this second chance. The doors opened one last time to let Margaret and Charlie walk down the aisle with the flowers and rings. Is this what the best day of your life is supposed to feel like?

The doors opened as she was trying to answer that question. There was no time left. In a short time, she'd become Mrs. Thomas Shelby.

She couldn't wait.

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