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shapard · 2 months

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Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

I wrote this late at night so not proof read yet.

It's going down~

little Angst, Violence, major death

True Story

Chapter 9 > Chapter 10 < Epilogue

Shock and being scared was an understatement of feelings that Lucifer, Charlie and the others are facing right now. The others follow Lucifer like a lost puppy, as they walked through the halls of the horror Playhouse.

Lucifer remembered every angle of this place. This is where he began creating things for heaven and then for Lilith.

Or rather it was.

His eyes were set on the horrible victims of Michael. The Mangled Angels that looked like the worst demon.

Worser than any of the demon he saw in hell. Probably even worser than Rue.

At some point they were standing in front of an empty cell that was stained with golden blood and your aura.

Beside the cell there was none other than Leonardo looking right at the group.

He was already expecting them.

“Long time no see, Lucifer.”

….

You walked with your bare foot on the golden floor, beside you stood Michael, Azrael, and Gabriel.

They were guarding you up the stairs. Watching you like hawks do with their prey with those glowing dangerous eyes.

You’re going to meet him, the famous God almost everyone is worshipping.

The one you served such a long time.

The one who let you down so easily.

The God that you were sure despites you with his very being.

Maybe it was wrong to think that way. But you couldn't shake off the feeling that something will happen.

Your hands were still chained up, but your feet were walking almost on Autopilot.

You wanted to stay in that cell and rot in there in peace, rather than facing someone who let you down easily.

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at that voice, a warm feeling spread around your chest, and you felt like you wanted to cry. Nothing is more calming than a mother’s voice to its child.

And yet you didn’t look up nor give her nay response that you’ve heard her. After all you didn’t forgive her how she just let you fall and that it was her idea in the first place.

Michael told you everything.

Even though he can’t be trusted you couldn’t help but believe him. The bittersweet taste that allures you into his darkness was tempting.

You were tempted to fall into his madness. But the memories you and Lucifer shared were the only thing that destroyed you and kept you sane.

Gabriel glared at Sera, “why is she here? She isn’t supposed to be here.” He ushered towards Azrael who just shrugged him off.

Your hand clenched hard. You don’t want to see her. Not when she looks at you with these pitiful eyes, even though it is her fault all alone.

“What have you done to my daughter?” Sera looked in horror at the bruises on your wrist and body. The bruises around your wrist were almost deep purple, black almost.

The guilt in Sera was indescribable. It was eating her alive in these last few Months.

It was all her fault; it was a simple punishment that ended in torture.

“Not much.” Michael answered giving Sera a white rose. “Father wants to see you too.”

You wanted to disappear. The heavy load on your shoulder was too much to handle.

The hurt of the betrayal from Lucifer was too recent to forget and that your mother showed up is your worst luck.

The pain in your chest spread when you looked finally at you Mother. Feathers all scattered, it seemed she haven’t preened them in a while.

You miss your wings.

The walk ended in a huge sky land and pastel clouds were surrounding the area, the light was all centered in one direction where you could see a silhouette.

A soft tune played. A tune Lucifer used to hum to you when you dozed off on his lap.

The ghost feelings of his clawed fingers massaging your scalp, not hurting you in the process.

Unwilling tears fell from your eye socket. As much as you wanted to hide your weakened state, you couldn't.

After all that has happened you miss him.

You missed the Hotel, you missed hell. You missed the time with your friends Husk and Angel.

The soft tune that hummed in the area comforted you in a weird way and a soft way.

A voice called you into the light.

Don’t go into the light.

Your mind was screaming at you to run.

Danger.

Michael gestures for you to step forward. You wanted to move, but your feet don’t move. The anxiety was filling your lungs making it even harder to breath and stopped every body movement.

You forced your feet with all your strength just to stand in the light that was a few meters away from you.

“My, My. After all those months and years, I finally can speak to you in person.” You’ve never heard his voice before, but you just know its his.

His Voice echoed through the wind and in your body through Skull and bones.

The sound of Gods heels meeting the quartz ground was in an even rhythm. As the steps grew closer and closer you found yourself in a panic like state.

What will he do with you? Is he going to kill you or make you his puppet?

A warm but somehow cold finger pushed your chin up and you saw a tall figure with four eyes surrounding its silhouette.

He has almost the same hat as Lucifer and the same shit eating grin.

“Poor Child.”

Your eyes twitched; you don’t need any pity from anyone. Not from Leonardo. Not even from God himself.

“I don’t need any of your sympathy.” He only chuckled at your comeback, It interested him indeed.

Even after such a heartbreak you still fought back. “I was almost worried that my son may corrupted you. Michael is a lot to deal with, I must admit.” God lets go of your chin and you almost fell on your knees.

The sudden weakness surprised you. God snapped with his fingers and the chains broken loose.

“But I don’t appreciate this type of violence towards my daughter in law. Lucifer wouldn’t be happy to see you in this state darling. So, let’s get you patched up, hm?” This is off.

Why is he so nice?

Doesn’t he hate Lucifer?

Doesn’t he hate you?

God laughed at your cute little misunderstanding. “Oh, my dear I hate nobody. Not even towards Lucifer. I’m just disappointed that this all came so far. You got treated the wrong way because of my recklessly. That’s not how I planned you two to meet.” He sighs, “So answer me one question.” He turned towards you and lifted you up.

The bruises on your body slowly disappeared into your skin. And the pain faded with it.

“What do you desire?”

…

“How do you know we were coming Leonardo?” Lucifer looked with his scarlet eyes into Leonardo’s golden ones.

“Who wouldn’t save their soulmate. I would, even if it means that I’ll get cast away from heaven. I knew you’d come” Leonardo took few steps forward, but Lucifer stayed on his grounds.

“Tell me Lucifer, what would you do for her?” Lucifer growled.

He’d do anything for you.

He wants your back; he needs your back.

Leonardo lunged at Lucifer with his spear landing a cut above his eyebrow.

“Fuck.” Lucifer cursed as he tried to find a place for the others to hide.

There's no escape.

“Charlie! Find Y/n while I fight him off!”

…

You wanted so much and as soon as these words left none other than God, you found yourself empty headed. “What I desire?” God hummed and looked down at his cane. “Is it money? Or is it something that hides deep inside you dear. I’ll give it to you but choose wise.” Well, that isn’t helping.

God laughed at your thoughts, sometimes you forget that he could read your thoughts easily. “Let me help you dear.” God stepped forward and folded his hands on your eyes.

A low glow made you almost slum into a deep sleep.

But before you could fall into this feeling a loud crash followed and God sighed in frustration. Having children is a bliss but also a stick in the ass.

Lucifer and Leonardo fought in the air and crashed together in front of Michael who seemed to be amused by the fight.

“Y/n!” Charlie shouted your name and you turned towards her. “Charlie?!” A happy smile spread on your lips. A little shine of hope burst your heart. “Charlie!”

You ran towards her and threw your arms around her, and Charlie happily hugged you back. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” She said as she squeezed you tightly. “We all were so worried about you!” Angel hugged you from behind, “yeah, the short king almost lost his mind!” you giggled at Angels nickname for Lucifer.

You were so drowned in your own misery that you’ve forgotten how much you love the others. You always were head stuck on Lucifer that you forgot your drink buddies.

You break the hug and swipe the tears that escaped your attempt to hid them.

You watched as Lucifer fought his three brothers. Azrael swung his scythe around his waist to get a better hit on him. The gold blood splattered on the quartz floor, and you hissed at the injured Lucifer who had a huge gash on his chest.

“I wish I had daughters than sons…” God sighed as he looked at the mess they caused. Gods smile never left his face though.

Leonardo kicked Azrael away with the end of his spear making him land with full force on the quartz floor, ouch. Azrael laid unmoving there and groaned at the back pain. “I’m out.” He said before collapsing on the floor.

“Why did Leonardo defend dad?” Charlie asked pointing towards Leonardo who stood before Lucifer. “He was always on his side. He just wanted to check if he’s willing to die for Y/n.” God answered and held Azrael under his arm.

“Now let me take care of this mess.” God let Azrael go and he fell on his stomach. “Really?!” Azrael huffed in anger.

God levitates down to his sons and they immediate stopped. “As much as I like the reunion, you’re destroying the peace me and Lucifers mate had.” This hurt Michael deep. No not again.

“Really father? You’re defending Lucifer and his soulmate?” Michael gritted his teeth as anger build up in him. After all he has done for his father Lucifer always gets preferred.

But not with him.

Michael took the opportunity and flew towards you. You stepped in front of your friends protectively, no one will hurt them.

Just by your dead body.

His sword went smoothly through your ribcage right between your heart. Charlie screamed and shouted your name as the sword was in her view.

The sword went right through you.

Quite a disturbing beautiful sight. A fallen Seraphim protecting sinners as she gets killed by an Arch Angel.

Lucifer looked in horror and his heart felt like tearing apart.

He wanted to hold you close but his wings felt like bricks on his back. Every time he tried to fly up to you, he fell lower and lower. And when Michael’s laugh hollowed in Lucifers ears he started to feel immense Anger and rage.

More than he did last time he fought Michael.

A monstress growl escaped his sharpened teeth as the fire between his horns grew bigger and more violent. Lucifer felt no empathy as he smashed Michael’s skull to pieces.

It was the least he could do for you. You were hurt, in despair and he couldn’t help you through it.

And now Michael took again what was most precious to him.

You.

You slumped on to the ground as Michael hold on you stopped and Husk was quick to hold you in his arms.

“Don’t die on me kiddo.” Husk voice broke, the sadness couldn’t hide the truth.

You’ll die. And nothing can change it.

Husk pressed plunged the sword out of your chest and replaced it with his hands.

His power as an overlord was gone, but Lucifer could heal the damage, right?

The hard breathing broke his heart as he watches you taking his hands softly. “Husky. Promise me-“ you coughed, and blood splattered onto his fur, but Husk didn’t cared.

“Stop talking, you’ll only use your left power.” Husk pressed deeper onto the wound, but the blood still gushed out at the tiniest hole. You shook your head softly, you’ll die.

This is your dead end.

A tear escaped with a few whines, “Promise me to take care of them. Please husk.” Tears met your forehead as you said those words to him.

Husk cries.

He actually cries.

“Don’t say that. You’ll live!” You squeezed his hand as he screamed, one last time and muttered a soft I love you to them all besides Lucifer.

He wasn’t here with you as your life slowly crept away from your body.

The dull vessel of your soul just dropped into Husks arms and Husk hugged you close.

Charlie was a mess. Her crying filled the battlefield and Angel dust was having a complete meltdown.

Lucifer stopped his Tantrum as he heard Charlies desperate and hurt cries. His body reacted on its own fast and flew towards her and you.

He fell couple times but tried neither less to get to you two.

Lucifer landed painful on the harsh surface, but he didn’t care.

He crawled up to your corpse and took it away from Husk as Lucifer hugged you close to him.

Your usually warm body was now cold, and those live filled eyes were dull and soulless like the void that crept back to him. Before his mind could even collect words, he apologized to you in a mantra.

He was sorry.

He wasn’t there when Michael did that to you and Lucifer wasn’t there when you shifted to the dead.

Forgive him.

“Forgive me Apple Pie.”

…

The soft tune played into your mind, painting a picture in it. Flashbacks of your life appeared till you stand in that familiar space with the table and mist. Across the table sat Lucifer but in a light blue and golden appearance.

“Lucifer?” You asked out, your hand twitched. You wanted to feel the golden hair one last time.

But he was with Lilith, not with you. The bitter truth you avoided, and it hurts you much deeper every time you remembered it.

Please stop.

”Y/n?” The way he called out your name and the soften voice that allures you back into the warmth.

Hot tears burned their way down to the cold stone table.

What is he doing here? You’re dead right?

Yes, you miss him very dearly but the betrayal was to recent to just forget it.

“Just wait for me.”

You looked at Lucifer, cold. A sting on Lucifers heart but it wasn’t really him. It’s an Image from you and God. And your desire to see him again.

To hear him at least out, maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe Azrael showed you just mere lies.

“Even though I am not the Lucifer you desire,” he took your hand softly into his pearly white one, “I can tell that your Lucifer loves you dearly and wouldn’t do that to you.” He smiled up to you and stroked the hot tears from your face.

“But I am dead Luci, and you- He wasn’t even there with me.” And the fake Lucifer gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“I’m sure he wanted to. Still a fucking idiot but he was fighting Michael off of you, right? That’s a start.” He chuckled and you huffed.

The doubts and insecurities were another trap you chose to fall in. Maybe he wanted you dead so he can have Lilith.

“But Lilith is-“ He interrupted you with a soft squeeze on your hand and cheek, “Don’t continue that. Yes, he loved Lilith. But he loves you more. Even though I am just a copy of Lucifer from yours and Gods memories. I love you more than anything. Listen to him not to his bitter twin. Hear it from him and if you’re correct you can be mad all you want.” He let you go and gave you a last smile.

What does he mean?

You’re dead, no refund.

Gone.

“Our time Is up. Choose wise apple pie.” The world around you fade away, “What is your true desire?” you stretched your hands out for Lucifer.

you want to go back to him.

“I want to go back to him. Please.”

The soft tune hummed in your head as light surrounded you. As the light slowly creeped away you felt tears on your neck.

Your eyes flutter open, and you saw Lucifer face buried into your neck. He hugged you tightly, the thought of dying again because of Lucifer hard grip wasn’t one you were burning for.

“Lucifer?” You called out his name and he quickly retreated from his favorite place, and he watched perplexed at you.

“Y/n?” He called out, “Is that really you?” He sounds so broken. You nodded and answered with a short yes. Lucifer held your hand in his left hand and pressed you onto his lips so soft and hard.

His lips danced around your as sparks flew across your body making you feel butterflies all over your stomach. He kissed like it was his last meal. After seconds of intimate making out, he broke the kiss.

“Don’t leave me again.”

A/n: Feather of Fate is now Over! (There is an epilogue coming!") Hope you enjoyed the short story.

There will be more! But first I want to concentrate on Scenarios and One Shot, till I feel ready to post another story with our Short King. ❤️

Love y'all Pookies❤️

Special Thank you to @ayanazoldyck, @marydragneell and @avadakadabra93 ❤️

💫

Sadly couldn't Tag you.

And of course thank you all Pookies❤️❤️❤️✨

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym @asmodeussimpnumber1 @sirenetheblogger @k1y0yo @i-have-no-life-charlie @angelicwillows @0puddleofgender0 @fallenh34art @v3r41ynn @froggybich @pank0w @roboticsuccubus83 @littlebear423 @anonymously-ominous @concentratedconcrete

And thank you to my silent readers

Why do I write like this my last day here💀✋🏽

#shapard #hazbin hotel #y/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel charlie #angst #feather of fate

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allysunny · 10 months

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Shadows to Stars | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: One night, your seemingly perfect life with your boyfriend Miguel crumbles before your very eyes. It is then you must make a decision that will change the course of your life forever - as well as the course of the life growing inside of you.

Words: 12k

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of death and abortion, pregnancy, Miguel is scary and a bitch. Spanish translations will be at the end. Do tell if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the super long oneshot I promised you all I would deliver! Since in both polls I made, the majority of y'all voted for one post, I'm posting this as one big drabble. Honestly, it kind of transformed as I was writing it, and I got carried away. Beware, Miguel is a monster in here, he is NOT a good person and I do not condone his actions in this work.

Also, quick aside, I'm using my own experience with toddlers and kids (namely my little sister) to shape some of the dialogue. Kids are very smart, and oftentimes we don't give them enough credit. I tried to keep this realistic!

The song mentioned is Querida by Juan Gabriel - I suggest listening to it!

Enjoy! :)

“This is such bullshit.” Was the first thought that crossed your mind. That’s not how gravity worked. The impossible stunt performed by the actor in the TV left you unimpressed, and you scolded yourself mentally for it. You sound exactly like him. Just enjoy the movie, will you?

You shake your head with a sigh, focusing on the screen in front of you. You’d been meaning to watch this one for a while, all your friends said it was simply the best of the saga just yet. “I can’t believe they’re making another one, just let the saga die!” You replied, but your best friend Miranda was quick to disagree. “How could they, after ending the last one in such a cliffhanger?” She was defending the movie as if her life depended on it. “Besides, Com Truise looks really hot in this one, he’s aging like fine wine”.

So here you were, trying to figure out how the hell Wethan Runt was gonna get himself out of this situation. This was the… Sixth? Seventh? Seventh Improbable Endeavor movie so far, and you wondered why they couldn’t just let the series die. It was simply too much at this point, a way to milk a famous franchise in order to earn money.

“Mommy?” A small, tremulous voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked at where it came from.

A small child looked at you from behind the living room door, his hand tightly clutching a teddy bear. Your son had just turned 4 and was the most precious thing the world had ever blessed you with. With soft brown curls and [e/c] eyes, he looked like a little cherubin, all chubby cheeks and dimpled smiles. You adored him.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, furrowing a brow. However, there was no need for a reply. You knew what the answer was already. “Another one?”

Gabriel nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes, and fear turning in his tummy.

“The same?”

He nodded again, the tears now rolling down his round cheeks. The sight of your pouting son broke your heart. For a few months now he had been plagued with the same nightmare repeatedly: A brightly coloured spider sinking its teeth onto him, proceeding to devour him whole right after. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, and unfortunately, it felt too familiar. Not to you, but perhaps to someone who once used to be close.

“Oh honey…” Your voice was soft, as it usually was with Gabriel. You knew nothing else when you were with him. “I’m so sorry… C’mere baby, do you want to sleep near mommy tonight?”

Gabriel shook his head “yes” softly, a small breath leaving his mouth. He was glad you’d asked him that. He didn’t want to look like a baby, not in front of his mom. Not when she told him he was her brave boy all the time. He had to be a brave boy for his mama.

“Mama…” He breathed out, tears pooling at his feet. “Mama I’m sorry…”

“Honey?” Now you were worried. He looked so scared; your precious baby looked so scared. “Honey, c’mere…”

“I can’t…” He whispered, shaking his little head. “Mama I had an accident… I’m sorry… I made the bed wet…”

Your heart officially broke.

Motherly instinct was stronger than you, and within a few seconds, you had picked Gabriel up, shushing him and running your fingers through his brown locks.

“It’s okay honey, it’s okay…” You cooed as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, hiding away from all the troubles, from all the monsters and creepy spiders that threatened to hurt him. His mama always made the monsters go away. You were his hero. “You’re such a brave boy, it’s okay… I’m not mad at you, alright? You’re so brave for me…”

Your hushed words were quick to soothe him. He stopped crying, occasionally sniffling and rubbing his eyes from the sleep.

You took him to the bathroom, quickly washed him and gave him a new pair of underwear. Gabriel knew how to use the toilet – potty training was never a problem because to him, the toilet meant he was a “grown up”. He was quick to tell you when he needed to use the bathroom, causing you to leave the diapers behind. Unfortunately, nightmares didn’t care about that.

He looked at you while you got rid of his wet sheets, throwing them in the washing machine, and his eyes were full of adoration while you prepared him his favourite chocolate milk.

Once he had finished it, you turned off the TV – Com Truise would have to wait – and took Gabriel to your room in your arms.

He made himself comfortable on your bed, teddy carefully placed by his side, and you followed suit after quickly brushing your teeth.

“I’m sorry mama…” He mumbled once again. “Maybe I’m not brave enough…”

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. It’s okay. You’re still my brave little boy. You’ll always be.” Bending over, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and he smiled, which made your heart melt. For all the sadness and hurt you’d gone through and suffered, Gabriel was the best thing that had happened to you. He was an amazing kid: curious, kind to a fault, and oh so cute. Of course, it didn’t help that he was like a mini-version of his father, but you’d learned to live with it.

After all, he wasn’t a little Miguel O’Hara. He was simply Gabriel, your sweet Gabriel who marvelled at thunderstorms and loved broccoli but hated tomatoes. Who liked to play in puddles and splash around at the beach, who giggled uncontrollably when you tickled his little tummy.

“Can you sing the song for me?” He asked, voice laced with sleep. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse your son in any way. You nodded and tucked his teddy closer and caressed his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

You took a short breath and started singing.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Miguel had taught you this song. It was one of his favourites, and you used to sing it to him when he felt stressed or tired. His head on your chest, on your lap, on your neck, your hands running through his hair, his heart on your palm, yours on his. The original song was meant for a girl. Querida was a woman. But you’d adjusted it for him, and never had the courage to change it back.

It was a song of heartbreak, of longing and hurt.

How fitting.

“Querido No me ha sanado bien la herida Te extraño y lloro todavía Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Glancing at the little one, you chuckled to yourself. Gabriel fell asleep quite quickly, especially when you sang for him. This was his favourite song too, and you’d gotten used to singing it to him nearly every night before he went to sleep.

For a few minutes, you stared at your son. Soon enough, after he’d fallen into a deep slumber, you adjusted his rebellious curls and brought him close to you, his little hand instinctively coming up to wrap itself around your finger.

It’s impossible to describe the love you felt for Gabriel. You’d do anything for him, walk to the ends of the earth if it meant he would smile and look at you with his bright curious eyes. What was there not to love? You couldn’t figure that out. And you couldn’t shake away the memory of when you first asked yourself that question. Not when it used to play in your head every night, no matter how hard you tried to keep it from your thoughts.

The paper read “Test indicates the presence of hCG hormone, confirming pregnancy”.

Oh.

You were pregnant.

If the cheap pharmacy test wasn’t enough proof, now you were absolutely positive you were pregnant.

You. Pregnant.

A mother.

You were going to be a mother.

And Miguel was going to be a father.

Was it possible to die of happiness? You always felt like you were floating with Miguel, but this was different. The thought that you had a little human, a baby, a child, a mini-you growing inside of your uterus? It was too much. To say you were over the moon was an understatement.

That day, you cooked Miguel his favourite.

You got him his favourite wine, mentioning how you were “feeling too light-headed to drink”, but inviting him to do so anyways.

You wore the dress he loved so much, the one that, according to him, made you look like “a princesa”.

Before he arrived, you placed the paper sheet with the results inside an envelope. Taking the lip gloss shade he loved so much, you painted your lips and placed a soft kiss on top of the envelope, the red stain its only decoration.

And just as you hid it within your apron, the doorbell rang.

“Miggy!” You exclaimed, running towards him.

Miguel looked tired – eyebags ever so prominent, face tired and devoid of any emotion. But these features changed once he laid his eyes on you. The exhaustion almost as if evaporated from him, the tired look replaced by a warm smile.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, head coming to trail his lips over your collarbone, humming ever so slightly – if you didn’t know your boyfriend, you’d think he was silent.

“Amor…” He groaned, hands squeezing your waist, lips caressing your skin.

“Rough day?”

“Would sewing a bunch of kids’ mouths shut make me a bad person? Answer me honestly mi Cielo, I trust your good judgement…” Was his mumbled reply.

You laughed, skimming your hand through his hair, as the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“It wouldn’t be the most moral thing to do, no.”

“Mierda.”

Your laughter filled the room and it was healing. It lifted all his worried, carrying them to a place far, far from your soft touches and kind words. You were his safe space, his little secret. For all the technological advances he had access too, Miguel found the best remedy to be purely and simply you. And didn’t you look extra pretty today?

You were always breathtaking, but that dress… Surely you knew what his thoughts on that dress were. You had to be doing it on purpose.

So, he let you lead him to the shower, covering his body with sweet kisses and kneading the tense and sore muscles of his back and shoulders. He let you wash his hair, giggling as you played with it, turning his soapy curls into a mohawk. He let you cover his body with body milk, rambling on about “it makes his skin so soft and healthy”.

He loved you. How could he not? What was there not to love?

And you loved him back just as much.

The way Miguel smiled as he took bite after bite of your food. He refused to talk about his day, claiming it’d only make him angrier. He’d much rather hear about yours.

So, you did just that, telling him about the things you did, the places you went. The new supermarket that opened just down the street with fresh fruit, the old market where you got the meat he’s eating right now, etc.

You were always out and about, keeping yourself busy while he saved Nueva York, volunteering, working with children, helping elderly people, or perhaps, if you were feeling lazy and tired, maybe just lounging around with a book in your hand.

It was when Miguel offered to do the dishes that you realised it was now or never. Time to shoot your shot.

You waited patiently for him, leading them to the couch once the kitchen was sparkling once again, and sat him next to you on the couch.

“Miguel, there’s something I wanna show you…” Was how you started. Goodness, had you always been this nervous? Were your hands this clammy? Why weren’t any words coming out of your mouth? Your breath was quickening, and a million questions were running freely through your head.

You didn’t think this through, did you? What if he’s not happy? But that is impossible, right? You two spoke about this. Miguel wanted a baby. So did you. You knew of his past, knew of Gabriella. But you also knew he was healing. You saw it happen before your very eyes. First there were the small glances, the small comments about baby clothing, and then there were conversations of children, of family. And of course, there was the trying. In fact, Miguel was more than invested in trying for a baby. “Just give me one more,” He’d whisper in the intimacy of your bedroom, “Wanna make sure it takes.” And you were soft and giddy and in love and oh so pliant for him.

And yet, it could go wrong. So many things could go wrong.

“Mi vida, what’s wrong? You look worried…” Miguel furrowed his brow, hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the way he did when he wanted to see your face more clearly. His face had “worry” written all over it, and it’d be funny, if you yourself weren’t shaking with anxiety.

“Yes, I… I’m fine, just… Give me some time.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

Nothing would go wrong. Miguel loves you. Endlessly, and he’ll love your child just the same. You’re sure of it.

“I need to show you something.” You said more clearly, looking him in the eye. “I… I love you, Miguel. So, so much. Unimaginably so. I love you. I love everything about you.”

He smiled. A genuine smile, one saved for you and only you.

“I love you too, mi vida. Te amo con todo mi ser. Eres la luz de mi vida.”

Shit, it did things to you. Him speaking Spanish, that was. You’d been learning, just for him, and while you weren’t yet a professional, you’d picked on his endearing phrases quite early. In fact, those were the first you learned – you wanted to be able to understand the sweet nothings he whispered to you in the comfort of your home.

“I… I’m scared you won’t… At least not anymore, when I show you this…” You confessed with bated breath, shrugging your shoulders ever so slightly. Communicating your worries and fears with Miguel had never been an issue. He was very open, telling you whatever was on his mind with no hesitation. It had taken a while, but now he trusted you fully, and your relationship was based on trust and understanding.

“Mi vida…” He murmured, fingers slowly cupping your jaw. “Unless you ate the last empanada in the cafeteria, there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less…” It got a chuckle out of you, and a smile out of him. Good. It was all he ever wanted to see; you with a smile on your face.

“Well then…” The words were muffled by the ruffling of your apron.

You took out the envelope and sighed.

This was it.

It was now or never.

Fuck, you were going to puke. This was simply too much. You were so worried, so scared.

But before you could do anything, he had carefully taken the envelope in his hands and opened it, smiling at the lipstick stain.

Oh god. This was it.

He unfolded the paper.

There was no turning back now.

He read the words attentively, curious about what had gotten you so worked up. You observed his face, his calm demeanour, his brow furrowing, his lips parting, his eyes widening-

“What?”

It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there, and you heard it.

His eyes scanned over the words again.

And then again.

And then again and again and again and again, until his fists clenched the paper, and he was turning away from you.

“Estás… Estás embarazada…?”

“Miggy…?” You tried getting a glimpse of his expression, but he refused to look at you again.

“Is this true…? You’re pregnant?” There was something in his voice, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Grief, perhaps? Anger? Surprise?

His knuckles turned white, and the paper sheet was quickly torn in two.

“M-Miguel?” Your eyes went to his knuckles and the paper. Oh no. This couldn’t be good. There’s no way this is good.

“You’re PREGNANT?” He turned to face you, his eyes a dark shade of red. His voice boomed and you flinched. It was an instinct, truly. The paper was left forgotten on the floor as he balled his fists in his lap, as if he was restricting himself.

“Aren’t you happy?” The words left your mouth as a mere whisper, all of the confidence and bravado from earlier completely gone. What the hell was going on with Miguel? He looked angry, feral, like… No, you did not want to think about it. Surely, he was just a bit surprised, right? That must be all. “Miggy? Aren’t you ha- “

“How did this happen?!” He growled, and you could do all but scoff. Was he actually serious? Did he not know how pregnancies happened? Did he not know how babies were made? Wasn’t he there when you two were actively trying to get you pregnant?

“Gee, Miguel, I don’t know, maybe it happened one of the times you pushed me up against the kitchen sink or the couch as soon as you got home, claiming you ‘needed me so badly’. Maybe it happened because we’ve been trying for a baby, because you said you were ready to start a family with me.” Was he being serious right now? It’s not like birth control was 100% effective – you had always warned him of that – and it’s not like he always used protection – something you both discussed as well. So how come he was asking ‘how it had happened?’. “We don’t always use protection, you know, these things happen- “

“How could you let this happen?!” Miguel stood up, his frame towering over you. And for once in your life, you felt something you’d never even imagined you’d fear when with Miguel – let alone because of him: fear.

“What? Me?” Your eyes widened, refusing to believe the words that he’d just uttered. “How is this my fault? Last time I checked, it took two people to make a baby, Miguel. And you wanted one. Holy – Miguel, what is wrong with you? We’ve been wanting a child for so long!” It wasn’t until the tears hit your palms that you realised you were crying. It hit you shortly after, Miguel made you cry. “Honey, please, just… Aren’t you happy?” You forced a smile through the tears, hoping to get him as excited as you were.

“Happy?!”

“Yeah!” Tear after tear escaped from your eyes, tracing paths down your face. You’d been so excited to find out you were going to be a mother. Fantasizing about holding your child, caressing their chubby cheeks, watching as you and Miguel doted over the tiny human that was both a mixture of him and you. And now those fantasies were shattered as Miguel paced back and forth in your living room, giving you a look that could kill you by itself. “I thought… I thought you wanted a family with me…! You said so Miggy, you told me you wanted to start a family…”

He all but scowled and threw a punch at a wall, cracking the surface around his fist. You flinched once again, shaking your head repeatedly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t your Miggy, no. This wasn’t the man that whispered the sweetest words in your ear, who woke you up with gentle kisses, who placed gentle hands on your stomach and wondered about the family you would once start.

“Clearly, I changed my mind.” Your boyfriend – no, because there was no way this man was your boyfriend – rumbled, removing his hand from the wall, and inspecting it. “I… We… [Y/N], we can’t. Perdóname. I’m sorry. I know what I said, but… No. This is out of the question.”

“I don’t get it,” You shook your head. This whole thing seemed so farfetched – Miguel wanted a child. He had told you as much. Hell, you two had been trying for a baby. On purpose. How could he just tell you “No”? “Miguel, we wanted this. I’m pregnant because we wanted to start a family, because you told me you were ready and wouldn’t love anything more other than me holding your child, Miguel, I’m pregnant because we wanted this! And you need to take responsibility for your actions, you can’t just blame me for this when we were bo-“

“I don’t have to do anything. This is completely out of the question. I thought I wanted a child, well, turns out I don’t.” He was spitting the words so viciously, you could’ve easily mistaken them for poison. “Having a child now would complicate things too much.”

“Complicate?”

“Yes, complicate. Our lives shouldn’t be changing too drastically because of a baby. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but we can’t. We just… No. “ He didn’t even have the decency of facing you. He was looking at the hole he’d punched into the wall, frowning.

“But Miguel…” You pleaded. You truly couldn’t understand what was happening. You could not understand why he wasn’t thrilled, excited, over the moon, spinning you around as he kissed your face and pledged his undying love to you. Undeterred, you take your hand in his and place it on your stomach, on the place your child would live for a few months before you had the joy of holding him (or her) in your arms. A smile, albeit a small one, graced your features once again. “We’ve been… We’ve been wishing for this…”

Miguel took a good look at you. He glanced up and down, taking your figure in. Your red eyes, your runny nose, your puffy lips. The tears, the hurt in your gaze. All because of him. He was hurting you. You truly wanted this, didn’t you? And didn’t he want the same? Hadn’t he told you time and time again how much he wanted to start a family with you? Weren’t you trying? Wasn’t he finally healing?

So why was it that the only thing he felt for the growing foetus inside of you was disdain?

He removed his hand from yours and shook his head.

“Get rid of it.”

Your jaw dropped.

What?

“Miguel? Honey, I…”

“Get. Rid of it.” He spat, eyes glowing bright red. “Or I will.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted, heart turning and churning and burning and hurting oh so much. How could he? His child, his own child… How could he say such things? How could he be so merciless? How could he want to… to kill the child you’d loved so unconditionally, even if for the past few hours?

It was horrifying. There was no word for it, it was truly horrifying, the way your Miguel was treating this matter. You’d looked at him with tears in your eyes, hoping that something, anything would leave your lips. But he’d opened a portal and left for HQ, leaving you alone in the middle of your living room.

So, you did the only rational thing.

You ran.

Jessica had helped you, along with Peter B. Parker.

Both were parents, so not only did they understand the way you felt towards your unborn baby, but also encourage you in your decision to leave Miguel. It broke Peter’s heart to find out the man that took care of the Spider Society had threatened to hurt his child and pregnant wife in the way.

But much to his sadness, he would have to act as if everything was fine and dandy, as if this man hadn’t threatened to kill a foetus, as if he wasn’t a monster. Peter would have to keep on interacting with him normally, in order not to raise suspicion. And so would Jess.

So, they did.

All traces of your existence had been removed from your shared apartment. Clothes, shoes, blankets. Anything that he could use to get the faintest trace of where you were was brought along with you, only his things and his things alone left behind.

It broke your heart to do it, but you had no choice. It was him or your unborn child, and although you’d known of your pregnancy for only a few hours, you were willing to do anything to assure its safety already.

You laid low for a while. Found a nice apartment where you could start over and build a life for yourself and your little one. Peter and Jess couldn’t keep you from going outside, so instead of trapping you, they helped disguise you. Both your appearance and scent changed every time you left the safety of your new home, with Jessica’s motherly instinct helping you find safety in new wigs and robes.

And so, your pregnancy went smoothly.

But it’s not to say it was easy – far from it.

Watching a baby grow inside of you all by yourself was terrifying. Not only was it terrifying, but it was also heartbreaking. Especially when the father of said baby had threatened you and him. It was even worse when you heard from Jessica that he was actively looking for you, coaxing every Spider in the Spider-Society to find you and destroy whatever was growing in your womb. How could he be so cruel? The possibility of someone killing your child just like that was frightening, but you managed to keep your fears aside for the well-being of your baby.

You could count with your fingers the peaceful nights you spent without a newborn toddler screaming and crying for your attention. For four whole years you were both mother and father, nursing and singing your baby to sleep whenever he was scared, kissing his wounds better, taking him to school, helping him talk and walk, watching him grow, looking over him the best you could.

There was no helping hand, no strong arms to hold your stomach during the day to ease your back pains, no soft rubs, and kisses on top of your belly at night, no proud displays of affection. When you gave birth to Gabriel, although surrounded by Peter and Jessica, there was no loving boyfriend or partner by your side, kissing your tears away, asking you to push, telling you you were “almost there”, holding your child in his arms and crying tears of joy, telling you you were oh so beautiful, to tell you that you were marvellous and miraculous and the most gorgeous woman alive.

While your heart could burst from the happiness of holding your son in your arms for the first time, it was also breaking at the realisation that, even if you had friends, there would be a major gap in your life that would scar you and your baby forever.

And there of course the questions. Gabriel was reaching his curious phase, and one time he had come home, asking why he did not have a daddy like his friends. That day you’d tried explaining it to him. You told him his father’s actions did not make you feel safe, and so you had to make the tough decision to protect the both of you and run away. You assured him that no matter what, you would love him unconditionally, that you were still a family, even if an unconventional one.

His reply was “Thank you mama, but I want a real daddy like my friends have!”

Tears streamed down your face until you fell asleep.

Gabriel was right. Even if he did not mean anything mean by it, even if his reply was something out of a clueless 3-year-old boy’s mouth and you shouldn’t take it to heart because he didn’t quite grasp the reality of your situation… It was still true. He needed a father, his father. You could try and try and try all you wanted, but he needed a father figure in his life, a role you’d never be able to fill.

The next day, you called Jessica and cried on her shoulders for a few hours while Gabriel was in school. She made up some stupid lie in order to be with you for the whole day, reminding you that children often said things they did not mean. Gabriel was a child; and children were way too straightforward, and it was not his intention to hurt you – wanting a father was a completely normal thing and you shouldn’t blame yourself for it.

But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

At first, the life you shared with Gabriel was terrifying. What if Jessica said the wrong thing, or Peter made a mistake? Thankfully, they behaved remarkably well, always prioritizing your safety and well-being over their duties to Miguel. As time went by, more people were in on your little secret. And you couldn’t help but worry. What if Hobie decided to “stick it to the man” and inform Miguel of his son? What if Pav thought “the power of love” could fix everything? What if Gwen and Miles tried to talk some sense into his head?

But luckily for you, they were all as interested at keeping Gabriel under wraps as you were. And the reason it was so easy for you to keep Gabriel away from his father was also because of Lyla. She’d witnessed the whole exchange of course, being an artificial intelligent program meant that she was everywhere Miguel habited – and that meant his home. So, she too was in on your plan, keeping everything away from Miguel. Every visit from the Spider-People, every time Gwen or Miles babysat your kid, every time something remotely urgent happened, Lyla was there to cover your tracks, and everyone else’s.

You also suspected everyone else in HQ helped, refusing to let Miguel murder an innocent child, or even help him with it. You were grateful.

Miguel was completely in the dark, he had been for 4 whole years, and you were happy it was like this.

Your son got to grow up in peace, and you got to watch him. Or so you thought.

“Honey, have you washed your teeth?” You asked as your son made his way out of the bathroom. Before he could answer, you spotted the stain of toothpaste on his chin, and bent over to quickly wash it. “There. Dashing.”

Gabriel smiled a toothy grin at you. “I’m wearing my Snoopy PJs!”

“Well, you’ll always be dashing to me. Snoopy PJs or any other kind of PJs.” You poke his tummy softly and he bends over, as ticklish as always. Before you can open your arms and embrace him, your ringtone rings through the room. You wink at Gabriel and take your phone into your hands, looking at the name on the screen.

“Oh honey, it’s auntie Jess. Give me a few minutes and I’ll tuck you in, is that okay?”

“I wanna speak to auntie Jess!” He exclaimed excitedly, to which you nodded, before picking up.

“Hey Jess! What’s up?”

“He found you.” Was all you heard on the other line before you felt your stomach fall.

What?

You couldn’t make out her words at first, but slowly, everything around you came to your consciousness again.

“Take him and go. [Y/N], can you hear me? You have to leave. I’m so sorry, we don’t know how he found out, but you need to take him and leave, now.” Jessica repeated these words urgently like a chant, and yet, all you could do was stare at Gabriel, his big eyes round and bright, his head titled to the side as he often did when confused, the little triangle in his brow all Miguel O’Hara.

You couldn’t move. Miguel had found out.

Shit.

And then someone knocked on your door. Loudly. Repeatedly. The sound echoed and rang in your ears, and it was Gabriel who brought you back to your senses by hugging your leg.

“Mama?” He inquired, looking at the door.

“Stay here. You hear me? Stay here, do mama a favour and stay here. Can you do that?”

Gabriel gave you a quick salute, a smile playing in his lips. He probably thought this was some silly game in which he acted like a big boy and his mama high-fived him and made him some chocolate milk as a reward. But unfortunately for you, there was nothing silly about this.

Your feet slowly dragged themselves to the front door, and you mustered all of the strength you had to open it.

With a deep breath, you turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing no one other than the one you feared the most.

Miguel.

You try to block the entire door with your figure, but Miguel is tall. Incredibly so. And while it used to make you squirm and gush and blush, it now fills you with a sense of dread you cannot shake away.

He takes a step forward and you speak, voice sounding braver than you were feeling.

“Leave.”

“[Y/N].”

“Miguel, I’m warning you, leave.”

He grumbled something under his breath and took another step, looking directly under him – at you. You used to love when he did it. It made you feel safe, protected, cherished. Now all you want is for him to back off.

“I do not want to force you. Let me come in, or I’ll have to. Please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” The worst thing about Miguel was that when it came to you, he was always genuine. He never lied to you. And that did not change now. He looked almost… Scared. There was a mix of anger and sadness and… was that betrayal? In his eyes?

Nevertheless, it made you vulnerable. Such a hurtful expression from the one you once loved… You couldn’t lie and say it did not make your heart twist a few times.

“He threatened to kill your child. His child, too.” You told yourself, shaking all those soft feelings away. No use being weak, not when you wanted to protect your son.

Still, he looked genuine when he said he did not want to hurt you. And it’s not like you can take him on your own, the man is literally 6’9, built like a Greek god, and Spiderman. You wouldn’t stand a chance, and your son needs to be protected. So, you slowly back away from the door, keeping your front to Miguel and your back to Gabriel.

You take a few steps back and are about to ask him what he wants, when a small voice interrupts you.

“Mama? Who is this?” Your son, your sweet, caring, clueless son asked, his neck craning all the way up to get a good look at Miguel.

Gabriel was a big fan of Spiderman – much to your chagrin – so the thought that maybe Miguel was wearing his suit terrified you. The last thing you wanted was for your son to idolize the man who threatened to kill him while he was nothing more than just a foetus. You quickly turned, taking in Miguel fully.

He was clad in casual clothes, a white shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He was dressed normally, thank God.

Miguel’s eyes widened at the tiny voice, and he looked at the child before him.

His eyes widened.

It all clicked in his head.

His eyes darted from you to him, from him to you, over and over and over and over again. He seemed to be making the connection in his head. Soft brown curls, furrowed brow, tiny nose that resembled yours and bright eyes that belonged to none other than the woman he loved.

This was his son.

“Mama?” He asked once again, tiny hands grasping at the loose sweatpants you usually wore around the house. Tiny fists curled around the fabric as he hid behind you.

You stared, wide-eyed at Miguel. You were silently begging for him not to cause a scene, not here, not in front of your baby, most certainly not at all.

“Please…” You whisper, nudging your head towards the little guy by your feet.

After a few seconds of dead silence and a stare off, Miguel hung his head low and nodded. You sighed in relief.

“Honey, time for bed. Mommy’s gonna tuck you in, alright?” Gabriel nodded and clung to you as you picked him up securely in your arms. Tucking his little hair in the crook of your neck, you slowly took his scent in. Citrus shampoo, the lavender fabric conditioner you knew he liked, he smelled like your darling song through and through, untainted by the evil and darkness of the world, untainted by the hands and knowledge of his father.

Once he was all tucked in, teddy loyally by his side, Gabriel reached out to hold your hand in his tiny hand.

“Mama?” He probed quietly, drowsy eyes twinkling with the gentle glow his dinosaur lampshade.

“Yes, honey?” He was about to ask about the mysterious man in your living room, you were sure of it. You just weren’t quite sure what you were going to tell him yet. The truth? He couldn’t know. At least not now. Not when Miguel was just a few rooms away, waiting patiently for you. Not when you had no idea if he was still violent.

“Who is that man?” Gosh, he looked so much like his father. The furrowed brow, the squinted eyes, and pouty lips. When he was born, you huffed and puffed to Peter, saying how unfair it was that your son had inherited Miguel’s looks, even though you were the one breaking your back to carry him – and then later, take care of him.

“He’s… He’s an old friend.” Technically not a lie. Miguel had been your friend once.

“Is he the one in the pictures that make you cry?”

Oh.

What?

Noticing your confused expression, Gabriel spoke again, shrugging.

“Sometimes you cry in the living room when you look at pictures… Is he the one in them?”

Were children supposed to be this curious? Or perceptive?

How come he had picked up on you crying? It was true, sometimes your hands instinctively reached out to the old photo albums you kept on the top shelf of your living room wall cabinet, far from his reach.

There was no need to lie to your son – not when he was so smart and cared so much, not when he was so perceptive.

“Yeah, baby.” You sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He is.”

“Why do you cry? Did he do something to make you sad?” The worry in his eyes was inevitable. If the situation weren’t so scary, you’d laugh. Your sweet child, always so worried about you.

“Yeah, he did. He made mommy very sad, that’s why she cries.”

“Did you like him?”

Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and you fought them back. “Be strong”, you thought. You always played the part of the strong caretaker, the fearless mother who protected him against the dangers of the world – but right now, with Miguel waiting outside, you weren’t sure you were strong enough anymore.

“Yes, pumpkin. Very much. Very, very much.” You removed your hand from his hair and moved it to his round, chubby cheek. “Mommy loved her friend a lot. And I was very sad when he hurt me. Incredibly so.”

“Do you miss him?”

The question hung in the air.

Miguel was still asleep.

Today was one of those days he had decided to remain home, take a break from all the stressing Spiderman stuff and just relax.

He looked so handsome like this, lips slightly parted to breathe in and out, cheek smushed against his pillow, legs entwined with yours, arm lazily thrown across your waist. You loved him like this, before the burdens and responsibilities of the suit dawned upon him, before he was a superhero and was simply Miggy.

You’d been tenderly running a hand through his curls, enjoying the view before you. Such a handsome man, such a kind soul. Sure, he was rough with everyone else, but with you? Away from the prying eyes and annoying questions? Away from the screens and all of the Spider Society duties?

He was plush. Soft, sweet, mellow, delicate.

You were whipped for this man, truly.

He stirred awake next to you, grumbling something in Spanish you couldn’t quite hear, and shuffled closer, lips quick to latch onto the column of your neck.

“Buenos dias hermosa…” He murmured against your skin, voice groggy and deep, earning the sweetest sigh from you. His grip on your waist tightened and you turned to him, smiling. He was such a vision.

“Morning, handsome.” You smiled, tugging on his curls to tilt his head towards you. He chuckled and kissed you tenderly, as if you were a figment of a dream he hadn’t yet abandoned and could disappear at any time.

You decided to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, pressing yourself against him to kiss him harder, obtaining the most delicious moan from your boyfriend. He pulled you closer by your waist, and with a quick movement, was on top of you, arms and hands caging you beneath his figure.

“Felling cheeky, aren’t we, mi vida?”

“I’m just kissing you Miguel, nothing cheeky about that.” You were quick to defend yourself, giving him a smug look.

He lowered himself, ghosting his lips over yours, almost as if on the brink of promising the entire world to you. Instead of doing that, he laid down, hair barely grazing your breasts as he placed soft kisses on your stomach.

You knew this look.

For a while now, the conversations about children and family had become more frequent. Miguel would catch you staring at baby clothes at the mall, or interacting with toddlers who looked and waved at you, and his heart melted. You had mentioned wanting a family before but were waiting on his signal. You knew Miguel had gone through something horrible – losing the family the way he did… You couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt.

So, you waited.

And lately, he seemed to be on the same page.

Last week, when you two had gone to the mall, he’d found you staring at a baby blue stroller, and the expecting couple examining it. You sighed, hands slowly trailing up to your stomach. Someday you hoped that would be you.

And it was then Miguel realised that he would want nothing more than to see you pregnant with his child, round and soft and plush and his, for the whole world to see.

He could picture it, you sitting in your garden, sunbathing and applying lotions on your baby bump, and him, by your side, kissing your forehead and placing his hand on your stomach to feel his child kick.

You, waddling over to him when your cravings got the better of you, begging him to get you some pickles and strawberry jam, promising nothing in this world you make you happier or satisfy you more – even if the combination did seem disgusting. ~

You, sitting down on a big chair, breasts exposed as you gently nursed your child. Your baby would have its tiny, miniscule hand on your chest as he drank your milk, and Miguel would be watching from the doorway as you fed your son, before placing him to sleep.

He could see himself too.

Playing with his child in the park, teaching his son how to play football, helping his daughter score goals, lifting his child over his head once they won their first game, reading them bedtime stories and saying “Don’t tell your mom” whenever they got into trouble.

It was all so very vivid.

“Miguel?”

He could picture it all, reach before him and grasp it.

“Honey?”

How pretty you would look, all swollen with his child.

“Earth to Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he sighed, kissing your stomach.

“Mi vida, I think…” He looked up at you, fondness and love nearly spilling from his gorgeous brown eyes and held your hand in his. “I think… How would you feel about starting a family with me?”

There. It was out. He’d said it.

And although he knew what your answer would be, his heart still flipped when your eyes turned into crescents, and your lips curled into a gorgeous smile.

“A family? With me? Really?” You sounded so fucking happy; it made his heart swell. Was it possible to love someone as much as he loved you?

“Yeah,” Miguel replied, and pressed his hand against your stomach. He could almost feel it. Picture your baby bump, feel the soft kicking of your child against your stomach, a silent reminder that it was alive and breathing and waiting to meet you. “A family. You and I and our child… What do you say?”

You giggle – you giggle! And por Dios if it isn’t the most gorgeous sound he has ever had the blessing of hearing. If anyone asked what Miguel’s favourite type of music was, he’d probably say it was the sound of your laughter. Either that, or the pretty mewls you make for him when it’s late and he’s needy and you’re oh so pliant.

“I say it’s perfect!” Hands fly to his hair, and suddenly he’s being pulled towards you, lips hungrily crashing onto his. You kissed him with everything you had. All of the love you felt for him, the love you felt for the family that was yet to come, the joy, the laughter, you tried expressing it all through this kiss.

And he smiled because nothing would ever make him as happy as you do. Nothing would ever get him to smile as much as you do. Nothing would ever complete his life the way you did, and he was so, so grateful for that. He kissed you back, hands carefully placing themselves on your hips to steady you, yours gripping his jaw to bring him closer.

When you parted away from air, he looked at you through lidded eyes, a very familiar form of desire dancing in the brown of his irises. You smiled sheepishly and watched him shrug his shoulders.

“Well, I guess… Since we’re on the topic of baby making…” He whispered near your ear, relishing in the full body shiver it elicited from you.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?” You faced him, brow comically raised at him.

You were so cute; Miguel could just eat you up.

And there was no one to stop him.

“Shh, hermosa, don’t give me that.” Barely a whisper, and yet it made heat pool in your lower belly, and your face warm upr. “I’m just saying, we should start practicing.”

With one swift movement, he was between your legs and your laughter filled the room.

Everything seemed right in the world.

Not at all. Not anymore.

“No, I don’t.” You absentmindedly ran your finger through Gabriel’s hair, “Not anymore. Right now, I have you, and you’re all I need.”

“Do you want me to draw a picture for you? I can draw a giraffe because I know you like them, and then you’ll smile and be happy.” This got a chuckle out of you. Always trying to cheer you up, this one, no matter what.

“Mommy would love it if you drew her a picture of a giraffe. It’d make me super happy.”

“Okay then! I’m gonna do it tomorrow, and I’m gonna use the crayons Mrs. Camille gave me, so it will look extra special –“ Before your son could continue, you smiled and ran an index finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose, a small gesture between the two of you, one that had a bazillion meanings. But right now it meant something around “Time for bed”.

Gabriel looked up sheepishly, shrugging.

“Can you sing for me?”

You felt slightly self-conscious about singing to him, especially since Miguel was standing right in the other room, and you used to sing this song to him.

“Let him hear”, you thought. He meant nothing to you anymore. This song was no longer his.

The song came to you naturally as you stroked Gabriel’s curls and watched his cheeks huff and puff, his slow breathing reminding you that he was here, safe and sound.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

All it took was one single stanza and he was already fast asleep. You chuckled to yourself and kissed the top of his forehead. He looked so peaceful; you took a mental picture of this moment.

Because perhaps, it’d be the last one you’d have.

You took a deep breath and stood up, not wanting to delay what was to come any more. Miguel was standing in your living room. You couldn’t hide from him forever, and you weren’t going to.

Closing Gabriel’s door, you decided to once and for all, face the man who had broken your heart four years ago.

The fact that he spoke to you first didn’t surprise you – Miguel had always been straightforward. It was what he said that caught you off guard.

“Was that…?” He asked, clearly referring to the song.

Stay strong. Don’t waver. You have to be strong for your family.

“Yes. Yes, it was Querida.” Your voice sounded certain, confident. You weren’t feeling very confident, but the taste it left on your tongue was quite nice. It made you feel more and want more. A placebo, maybe, but right now, you took all the help you could get.

Miguel chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I haven’t heard that song in… What? Four? Maybe five years?” How dare he act like everything was normal? Like you had simply forgotten to sing it for him, like instead of Querida, you’d started singing Para Siempre from Doreen Montalvo. He seemed too at ease.

“Yes, well. How sad.”

He stared at you, unsure of what to say. And was that regret on his face? Regret? Fear? You couldn’t tell. And it’s not like it mattered – Miguel had to leave. That much was final.

“And… And, well…” He stammered, eyes darting behind you, to the closed door of your son’s room. “He…”

“He’s yours.” You cut him off coldly. Why was he dancing around the subject? Miguel looked at you and swallowed harshly, scratching the back of his neck. You wouldn’t let him be meek and weak, you couldn’t. He had no right to. “What? Wasn’t that what you were going to ask?”

Miguel straightened himself, regaining some of the composure he’d lost earlier.

“I see.” He nodded and nudged his head towards your kitchen – that’s when you saw it.

“I did your dishes.”

Your brow furrows and your eyes widen all at once.

Your dishes?

“You were tucking, um, our, well, your, um… The kid. You were tucking him in, and I thought maybe I could be of help.” He looked so earnest it almost hurt you. Ever the gentleman, your Miggy. When you were together, no matter how late he got home, no matter how tired he was, Miguel still made time to help around the house. Cleaning, cooking, doing whatever it took to make sure you had no extra burdens.

But right now?

You didn’t care if he was Spiderman, you didn’t care if he was nearly 7 feet tall and wide and strong enough to snap you in two – you wanted to punch him in the face. Oh, so badly.

The anger took over you and you scoffed at him.

“Oh! You wanted to help, huh?” You leaned against the couch and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I see. Well, thank you for the help, Miguel. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need you to take care of household chores for me. Washing a few plates isn’t going to change anything.”

He winced at your words. Good.

“I just thought –“

“Well, you thought wrong.” You interrupt him once again. This conversation is not going to be about him. He’s not the victim, he’s not the vulnerable one. He doesn’t get to be vulnerable.

“[Y/N], we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. You need to leave, and I need to get some sleep.”

“No, please, we need to talk. We have to.” He sounded desperate. Goodness, you loved it. His eyes were filled with something you’d never seen before. The bags under them reveal he must not have been getting a lot of sleep, and he kept pinching the bridge of his nose as if in exhaustion. You weren’t naïve – not anymore. You didn’t feel bad for him per se.

But seeing the man who once seemed to carry the weight of the world in his shoulders, who took care of an entire city and never even wavered, look so defeated… Well. It did pull at your heart strings a little bit. Maybe that’s why you nodded and gestured over to your couches, sitting down in one of them and waiting for Miguel to do the same.

Maybe that’s why you watched as Miguel sat on the couch facing the TV and waited for him to speak.

“[Y/N], I… Mierda… No sé por donde empezar…” He cursed under his breath, head hanging low.

“I don’t have all night, Miguel.”

Oh, how he missed hearing his name spill from your lips. But now, instead of filled with love and warmth, you spit the words almost like they are poisonous, like you can’t hold them on your tongue for more than two seconds without them corrupting you.

He supposed he did that to you.

“I suppose I should start by apologizing…” Miguel finally looked at you, brown eyes staring into yours. You’d have done anything for those eyes once upon a time. Not anymore. “[Y/N], that night, all those months ago… I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am…”

So he was here to apologize? Was that it? Did you even want to hear his apology? Were you going to forgive him?

“When I told you those things, when I told you to…” He averted his gaze for a few seconds, probably too ashamed to look at you as he remembered telling you to kill your child. And you felt good that he was ashamed. He deserved to be. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared. Scared it would happen again, what happened to my sweet Gabriella… I lashed out on you, and I scared you. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded once, and upon hearing no reply from you, he continued.

“I… I really have no excuse other than that. Seeing Gabriella disappear right before my eyes, it… Mierda, it really scared me. So, when I read that test, when I saw you were pregnant, I was afraid it would happen again.”

Miguel found you staring at him, unimpressed, unmoved. Did his words mean nothing? Had he reached you?

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Is that why you came here? To apologize?” You questioned him, brow quirked.

“Well, yeah. You deserve an apology mi vi- [Y/N]. What I did to you was inexcusable. And yet, I hope that someday you manage to find it within your heart to forgive me. You know I’ve never lied to you, and I’m still telling you the truth when I say I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m ashamed of how I behaved, I was a monster, and you didn’t deserve that.”

For some unknown reason, his words made you weak, if only for a few seconds. You saw in front of you, your Miguel, your sweet, sweet Miggy who brought you breakfast in bed, who kissed your period cramps away, who carried you when you were too tired to walk, who treated you like you were God’s gift to green earth. You saw him scared and vulnerable and hurt, and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms and hold him tightly until all of the pain was nothing but a distant memory.

But you also couldn’t ignore the other Miguel, the Miguel who had jumped and punched a wall and yelled at you, demanding you to get rid of your baby, and forcing others to do it. No matter how much you had once loved him, Gabriel was your life now, and you couldn’t allow yourself to feel soft over someone who would do something so inhuman as threaten an unborn child.

“Thank you for the apology.” You told him. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have things to do. Now, please leave.”

He seemed confused by that. Leave?

“Wait – what?”

Standing up, you gently adjusted the couch you were sitting on, and shrugged at him.

“Yes. I have heard your apology, and now I want you to leave.”

“Well, what is your response?”

“To what?”

“To the apology.”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“What?”

What was he expecting? You to run into his arms with tears of joy, kissing him until he was dizzy and proclaiming his love for him? Was that it?

“You heard me,” You crossed your arms, “I’m not accepting your apology.”

“But – I thought – “

“You thought what, exactly?” Now your words were pure venom, meant to poison his skin and hurt his heart. You wanted him to feel a least a fraction of the hurt and pain he caused you, of the heartbreak he submitted you to. “That you could just come in here after I actively ran from you, after I tried to hide, and you would solve everything by washing my dishes and giving me a half-assed apology?”

“[Y/N], I told you what happened, I’m sorry, I was scared – “

“How do you think I felt, huh?” You felt the rage in the back of your throat. It hurt. It felt nice to let your anger out, to direct it at him, the source of your ache. “How do you think I felt when you threatened my baby? Were you also scared when you sent your Spider-People after my child and I?”

“What?” Miguel looked at you, dropping his hands to his sides.

“That’s right. I’m not stupid, Miguel, I know what you did. You asked for them to search for me, and to kill my son. You think all of that is washed away simply by apologising?”

“I was afraid you’d disappear on me too!” He pleaded, hands gesturing to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say, how else to show you how heartbroken I am…”

“Well then, perhaps you should’ve thought about all that before you decided to have a child with me, Miguel. You don’t get to do this – You don’t get to picture a future with me, with our family, you don’t get to tell me you’re ready only to then threaten us. You should’ve voiced those concerns instead of taking it out on me. You got me pregnant and didn’t even deal with the consequences of your actions!” You threw your hands in the air, desperately trying to make him see your side. Could he not understand the gravity of the situation?

“You should’ve told me. We would’ve worked something out, Miguel, I knew we would’ve.” Your vision becomes blurry – all these emotions aren’t really helping your “Don’t waver” plan, but at this point you just need to vent your frustrations. “But what you did? It felt like betrayal. We were trying for a baby, and when I finally got pregnant, you threatened us. I know what happened to you in the past, and I can’t imagine how it must’ve hurt, but it is no excuse for what you did to me.”

For a while, the both of you were silent. There was nothing else to say.

“What’s his name?” He asked silently, looking at Gabriel’s door.

You hesitated, but figured telling him what you had named your child probably didn’t hurt.

“Gabriel. His name is Gabriel.”

His eyes twinkled in acknowledgment. You had wanted to name your son anything that had nothing to do with his father, but you couldn’t. You considered that your last act of kindness towards Miguel.

“After my brother?”

“Who else?” You looked away.

“He… He’s beautiful. He looks…”

“Like you, I know.” You’d made your peace with it, sure, but sometimes it still stung that your child looked nothing like you, you who carried him and took care of him and fed him and rocked him to sleep. Instead, he was a near perfect copy of his father, opting to act like you, rather than look like you.

“How is he?” Miguel felt scared to ask. He wasn’t sure if you were going to tell him anything – and why should you?

“He’s… He’s the greatest kid ever. He’s smart and kind, and so considerate. He’s his own little man, even though he’s only four years old…” A smile spread across your lips, as you always did when talking about your son. He was your pride and joy, after all.

“Will I…” Miguel hesitated. You know what’s coming. “Will I get to meet him?”

“No. Not if I can help him.”

Miguel’s lips formed a tight line.

“[Y/N], he’s my son too –“

“No, he’s not. You might be related by blood, but that doesn’t make him your son, and it most certainly doesn’t make you his father. You lost that right when you threatened to kill him, and sent your goons to do it.” Your voice was getting louder, so you tried to lower it. The last thing you wanted was to wake Gabriel up.

“You can’t do this. I have a right to see him.” Miguel’s voice was also getting louder. Not only that, but he had also gotten up, towering over you. So much for weakness and desperation, this Miguel looked the same as the one you left four years ago.

“You don’t, that’s the thing. I don’t trust you around my son. I’ve spent the past four years trying to protect him from you, and I’m not going to stop now.” As if by instinct, you placed yourself right in front of him, blocking his passage to Gabriel’s room. Could he snap you in half and get to him by himself? Yeah. Were you going to let that stop you? No.

“What did you tell him? What lies did you tell our son?” Was it just you, or were his eyes turning red?

“My son. And I told him the truth, that his father wasn’t making me feel safe, so I had to run in order to protect him.”

Miguel visibly flinched at those words. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe, never.

“I understand I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a part of his life.” His expression changed to something darker – you weren’t sure how long you had until he snapped. A mistake? How dare he downplay his actions like this?

“That is precisely what it means. I want you away from my son.”

“He needs a father. What if – what if he inherits my abilities, huh? What are you going to do then?”

That’s when you snapped.

“He needs ME!” Hot tears streamed down your face, and you did not try to stop them. “Do you understand? Me. I am his mother. I cared for him for the 9 months he was inside of me, scared shitless because I didn’t know what you might do if you found us. I took care of him for 4 whole years. I was the one who fed him, I was the one who changed his diapers, I was the one rocked him to sleep when he cried and I’d been awake for hours, I was the one who gave up everything and started from scratch because of him! And what did you do? You whispered pretty things in my ear and got me pregnant, and then got scared and proceeded to tell me to kill my child! That’s not something a father does!” The words kept spilling from your lips and there was no way to stop them. You could finally speak freely, get him to understand the pain he put you through.

“If my son happens to inherit your abilities, then I will take care of it. Just like I’ve been doing all these years, I will take care of it. You’ve done nothing for us, and we don’t need you. I don’t need you Miguel, I don’t love you anymore. My priorities in life have changed, and now they lie in the safety and well-being of my son. So, for once in your life, stop being so fucking stubborn and LEAVE!”

“Mama?”

Your heart fell as soon as you heard Gabriel’s scared voice.

Shit.

You turned to him, only to be meet with a teary-eyed child, holding onto his teddy bear way too tightly.

“Honey, I… I’m sorry… Did I wake you up?” Your voice was automatically gentler, lower, something above a whisper, something reserved for him and him alone. Right now, you didn’t care that Miguel was right there, angry, and tall, all you cared about was your son, who looked so, so scared it nearly killed you.

“I heard you yelling…” He murmured, running towards you and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. His tears fell on your skin and you allowed yourself to cry with him, clutching him close to you, afraid he’d disappear right before your eyes because of your actions.

“I’m so sorry…” You mumbled into his hair, hoping all the love and sincerity you felt right now could be translated into words. “Honey, I’m so sorry, mommy got angry and started yelling… I promise it won’t happen again… I’m so, so sorry…”

You felt Gabriel nod, and pressed your lips to his head, a thousand promises laced in one simple kiss.

Standing up and turning to Miguel, you gave him a serious look, despite your puffy face and red eyes.

“You should leave. For good.”

And for all his bravado, Miguel couldn’t help but melt when he looked at your son, at his round, bright eyes, and small pout. He might look like his father, but right now, he was all you. It killed him. He drove you to yell, he drove you to be mad and wake him up. Mierda. He’d fucked up again.

Miguel took his son in one last time, telling himself he’d keep an eye on him from afar, and nodded before walking away and leaving you alone in your living room.

You locked the door behind him, heart tightening.

You’d made the right choice.

“Would you mind sleeping with mommy tonight? I think I need my brave little boy to scare away the monsters…” You whispered.

This earned a chuckle out of Gabriel, who nodded and placed a hand on his forehead in a salute, no doubt imitating the cartoons he watched.

“I’m going to protect you!”

You smiled and took him to your bedroom once more, not even bothering to change. Your sweatpants were comfortable anyways.

Holding Gabriel close to you, you sighed when you heard him speak.

“That man said he was my father…”

You pressed your lips. However were you going to work this one out?

“Was he the one you wanted to protect me from?”

You let your hands run through his hair.

“Yeah, my love. He was.”

“How did he find us?”

That was a good question. With all of the yelling and anger, you’d forgotten to ask. But after all, this was Miguel you were talking about. He was a genius and would surely always find a way to you, sooner or later.

“I’m not sure. But he won’t hurt us. I promise.” You looked at him, offering him your best reassuring smile. Truth was, you weren’t sure he would follow you once again. But what you were sure of, was that you would always do your best to protect him and keep him safe.

Gabriel looked into your eyes and slowly wiped away what was left of your tears.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

No matter how used you were to it, it would always catch you by surprised how perceptive and intelligent your son was. You smiled slowly grabbing his hand and kissing it.

“I know.”

“Are you scared?” He asked again, his eyes droopy and his lips parting to let out a big yawn.

“I was a few minutes ago. But I’m gonna tell you a secret. That alright?” You moved your hand to cup his cheek.

“Mhm…” Gabriel mumbled, sounding like he was dozing off already.

“Mommy is never scared when you’re by her side.” It was barely a whisper, and you didn’t even know if he had heard it. Still, you added, “I’ll always be strong for you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched his gentle breathing.

And then, words.

“I love you, mama.”

They were barely audible, but nevertheless, they were there.

A few tears managed to escape – tears of joy, of love.

You would always do your best to protect him. You’d always be there to hold his hand and watch him grow, watch him become his own person, cheering him on as he went.

No matter what came your way, no matter what happened, you’d always be there by his side. For the good things, for the bad things, for the so-so things. To hold him tightly when he felt clingier than usual, to pin his drawings on the fridge, to hear him babble about whatever new topic he’d discovered in school, even if you were tired beyond reason and all you wanted was for him to go to sleep so you could get some rest.

You’d be there to tie his shoes until he could do it by himself, and to clean his face whenever he got too excited with his lunch. You’d be there to explain to him what a “memamporphosis” was, and to listen to him explain to you why Spiderman was the greatest of heroes.

You’d be there when he cried, and when he laughed.

And be there when he wasn’t yours anymore.

Four years ago, you had chosen him, and you would always choose him, for as long as you breathed.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

Spanish Translations

Mi cielo - My sky Mierda - Shit My vida - My life Te amo con todo mi ser - I love you with all of my being Eres la luz de mi vida - You're the light of my life Estás embarazada? - You're pregnant? Perdóname - Forgive me Buenos dias hermosa - Good morning beautiful Querida / Querido - Dear (While Querida is meant for a female partner, Querido is meant for a male partner, both are a term of endearement and have the same meaning) No sé por donde empezar - I don't know where to start

If you'd like to check out the song's translation, you can check this page out!

I hope you enjoyed this! Have an amazing day ahead, please keep yourself hydrated and safe <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Dolores del Río (Flying Down to Rio, Flor silvestre)—to begin with, dolores is so RADIANTLY BEAUTIFUL, even more so in action then in images, its like she emits a literal glow. marlene dietrich (a close friend and rumored lover) considered her "the most beautiful woman who ever set foot in hollywood". she was the first mexican actress to become a major success in hollywood, rising to fame in the silent era and becoming an influential icon of beauty and glamor in the art deco age, though she was not thrilled with the exoticizing parts often pushed on her. in the mid 1940s having tired of the controlling hollywood studio system she returned to mexico, saying "I wish to choose my own stories, my own director and cameraman. I can accomplish this better in mexico", and proceeded to become a pivotal figure in the golden age of mexican cinema, making a string of masterpieces with directir emilio fernández and cinematographer gabriel figueroa. i love this anecdote about the insane art deco mansion she and her then-husband cedric gibbons lived in in the 30s, as related by david niven: "Dolores had a large sunny room on the first floor containing a huge and inviting bed. Gibbons lived in comparative squalor in a small room immediately below. The only connection between these rooms was by way of a stepladder, which could be lowered only when a trapdoor in the floor of Dolores room had been raised. There was a long stick with which, we conjectured, he signaled his intention or hopes by rapping out signals on the floor of his wife’s bedchamber." heres a pinterest album with a billion hot pictures of her

Fay Wray (King Kong)— the original scream queen!! she started acting in silent comedies as a teenager and got her first big break when erich von stroheim cast her as the lead in the wedding march. her career started to take off starring in silent movies at paramount, and she survived the transition to sound smoothly - josef von sternberg’s weird proto-noir thunderbolt was one of her first sound films. she began to make horror movies in the early 1930s, such as doctor x and mystery of the wax museum, both filmed in beautiful two-strip technicolor (which looked like this if you're curious. i just think it's neat!), as well as the vampire bat, the most dangerous game, and of course the boy himself, king kong. a little on how she worked with her most famous costar: “Although Kong appeared huge, the full figure was a model covered with rabbit hair, standing only 18 inches tall, that was filmed one frame at a time by stop-motion photography artist Willis O'Brien and his crew. The 5ft 3in Wray only knew one part of the ape's body when she was grasped in an articulated 8ft long hand. Hence the title of her 1989 autobiography, On The Other Hand. ‘I would stand on the floor,’ she recalled, ‘and they would bring this arm down and cinch it around my waist, then pull me up in the air. Every time I moved, one of the fingers would loosen, so it would look like I was trying to get away. Actually, I was trying not to slip through his hand.’” (link)

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Dolores del Rio:

There's so much! She started in Silent films and successfully transitioned to sound, She is the first woman to wear a two piece swimsuit on screen & popularized the bikini!, She transitioned back to Mexican Cinema in the late 1940s and was a leading lady of the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema including staring in Maria Candelaria--the first Mexican film to win the palm d'Or at Cannes. She was literally studied for her beauty & was considered a beauty ideal in both the USA & Mexico--there's a whole section on her Wikipedia page about how beautiful everyone thinks she was. She never actually had a feud with any of the female stars she was rumored to feud with despite the fact that press & Hollywood culture attempted to pain them in competition... She remained a leader in Mexican theater & Cinema through her own production company. Mexican painter Diego Rivera: "The most beautiful, the most gorgeous of the west, east, north and south. I'm in love with her as 40 million Mexicans and 120 million Americans who can't be wrong" (quote source: Wikipedia)

*fan self* Leading actress in silents and early Hollywood. Lover of Orson Welles until she got fed up with him, friend of Diego Rivera and Frieda Kahlo. When she got tired of Hollywood executives typecasting her as a stereotypical spitfire (and trying to force her to feud with Lupe Velez as a publicity stunt), she ditched Hollywood and became a major star of Mexican cinema, where she got to play rounded characters

Had a career in American cinema in the 20s and 30s and considered one of the most important figures in the Golden Age of Mexican cinema (30s to 50s).

Marlene Dietrich said Dolores was the most beautiful woman to set foot in Hollywood

Joan Crawford: "Dolores became, and remains, as one of the most beautiful stars in the world."

One of the few Latin American women working in the Hollywood industry to make it big not just in hre home country but internationally. In 1931, Photoplay magazine declared that Mexican film actress Dolores del Rio had the "best figure in Hollywood." (which I know not necessarily a good barometer) but! it shows that many people looked at her for her beauty and sought to emulate her. Famous for her years-long love affair with actor and director Orson Welles, who was 10 years her junior if that's anything.

We need more hispanic representation in this!! Del Río is one of the most important actresses of her time as she was one of the first Mexican movie stars to break through to Hollywood! She’s unbelievably sexy and an absolute icon. Thank you :)

Fay Wray:

Actress prominently known for starring in horror, she was one of cinema's original "scream queens". She knocks it out of the park whenever she's with the horror genre, bringing a depth and likability to characters that would other be flat and boring characters.

An early scream queen, name me another woman who could look so beautiful while so disheveled and scared for her life

She was name-dropped not once but TWICE in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She's arguably the original Scream Queen.

#fay wray #dolores del río #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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gejo333 · 4 months

Text

An Unexpected Match X

Pt. 1 Pt. 11

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: Disagreements about children…and…you have to read to find out.

Wc: 5.5k

————————————————————————

The gentle morning cold of the February wind combined with your warm cup of coffee was a perfect balance, as you stare out at the Nueva York skyline from the patio of the apartment.

Since leaving the night of the holiday party, you and Miguel decided to stay for a month in the apartment, in hopes some of the heat of drama has settled down, and also hopes that Sofia would give up.

The month of January with just you, Miguel and Gabi has been a dream. Going out to dinner when neither you or Miguel felt like cooking. It was a perfect routine after the holiday break was over. Majority of the time you and Miguel would drive Gabi to and from school, which was closer back to the neighborhood, but it was a nice drive. Luckily soccer season had not started yet, as you weren't sure if you or Miguel were ready for the judging stares of the neighborhood parents.

Sometimes when you had to go to classes early or the same with Miguel and work one of you would drive her.

Today was a Saturday and the day you were going back to the house. Of course you loved that house, holding already so many memories since you moved in 7 months ago, but if only you could just wipe away the rest of the neighborhood, and stay in the perfect bubble of the O'Hara family.

Another thing that has been happening this past month was Miguel trying to bring up the topic of children. And of course every time he has, you have been lucky enough to avoid it.

Yes, you do want children with Miguel. To give Gabi a little brother or sister. Maybe both. But In a few years, after your done with grad school and start your career. Of course your argument can be easily proven wrong at the strong baby fever you've been having lately. It definitely didn't help when one of Miguel's coworkers, Peter who came to drop something off and had brought his baby daughter Mayday with him. While the two were talking you watched over Mayday. Of course Miguel saw how much you loved spending time with her, and as soon as Peter and Mayday left he brought the topic up. And lucky for you, Gabriel had called him on his phone.

You sigh as you watch your breath, cold enough to see it. Two arms wrapped around your waist as you felt a familiar head rest on your shoulder before bringing you against him as he gently kissed up your neck, before turning your head and placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, mi amor. I didn't see you in bed this morning. You usually only come out here this early if something is on your mind."

You set your cup of coffee down on the table before turning around to face him. Still in his arms you rest your head on his chest, as he rest his head on top of yours. Something you both know calm each other down.

"A few things actually. About going back and having to face everyone. Hoping to god we never see Sofia again. Figuring out how to pay for my last semester at school. And well... the other thing, I feel like we might get into an argument over." You lift your head to look up at him. His brows furrow and a small frown forms, curious about your last sentence.

"You think so? You can tell me, cariño. I'd never get mad at you." Miguel caressed your cheek as he gave you a smile of reassurance. He was right, even the little disagreements you have gotten into in the past, neither of you have ever gotten mad at each other. Maybe a little annoyed, but a quick make out session or fuck usually made the annoyances go away.

"It's about kids. I know you've been trying to talk to me about it for a while now."

"I've noticed you've been trying to avoid that conversation. Is there a reason why?" Miguel chuckled as he put some of your hair behind your ear to see more of your beautiful face.

" When I tell you my answer I don't know if I can handle seeing the disappointment in your eyes." Tears brim the corners of your eyes, which Miguel sees right away as he gently wipes them away.

"Mi amor, please tell me. Please don't cry. It breaks my heart see you upset." Miguel puts both hands on the side of your face, caressing your cheeks and wiping any stray away tears.

"I want to have kids. But not for a while."

"For how long?" You can see the nerves build up inside him, even though you could see he was trying to hide it from you.

"When I'm 29, maybe 30." You bite your lower lip, nervous for his answer.

"So, almost a decade from now?"

"Yeah..." Your heart ached as you could see the pain in his eyes.

"Can I ask why so long from now?"

"Starting my career. If I got pregnant now it would be a lot harder for employers to hire me. It's wrong. But it happens. And I want to go to grad school and I just don't know if I could do that and have a baby. I just don't know if I can balance starting a career and have a baby at the same time. That's why I thought after a couple of years I can handle both."

"I've seen your resume, hermosa it is very impressive. so is your transcript. You have a really good chance at getting hired at Alchamex. And women are treated very well there. They receive great maternity leave. If you worked in my department your boss, Jess, my coworker currently is pregnant."

"Is she 21?" You give him a deadpanned look.

"Well, no. She's 33. But even if she was your age. There would be no difference."

"Miguel, I would be an intern. And the interns are highly competitive with each other there. Oh and by the way, how would they react if they found out that the head of Alchemex's Genetics department is the boyfriend and baby daddy to my child. They would think I slept my way into getting the position."

"Well first off, you would be my wife by the time it happened. And second off, you know you would get the job because of your qualifications not because of me."

"Is this turning into a proposal?" Your eyes widen, chuckling lightly.

"Well, not now. But I love you y/n. I do attend to marry you one day."

"And I love you too Miguel. But don't change the subject. Are you ok with my answer about kids?"

"A decade is a long time. By the time we had one I'll almost be 50 and Gabi would be 15."

"Well, when did you think we were going to have more kids?" You cross you arms as you look up at him.

"I thought maybe by next year we would have a baby." Miguel brushed his fingers through his hair, out of his face.

"So you mean me getting pregnant right after graduation? Miguel that's really soon. It's too soon."

"Well 9 years is too far away. Can we compromise at least a bit?"

"Can we wait to have this discussion after I graduate? Please." You look up at him as you wrap you arms around his neck, pushing your body against him. Miguel wraps his arms around you.

"I know what your doing, hermosa. Trying to distract me from the topic." Miguel looks at you slightly annoyed but with a hint of lust in his eyes.

"I am. But can we please talk about it later. I know this is going to go in an evil cycle at the moment. And it's Saturday. I don't want to get in to an argument today."

"Alright, cariño. We'll talk about it later. But please think about it though."

"I will. Please think about what I said too."

"I will." Miguel leaned down and kissed your lips which you happily returned. You both walked back inside the apartment getting ready to head back.

Everything was packed into the car as you carried a sleepy Gabi in your arms.

"Thank you for packing the car, Rick." Miguel handed the doorman a $100 before getting into the car, while you strap Gabi into her car seat before getting into the passenger seat.

The drive back was in silence, obviously this morning conversation weighing heavily on both of your minds.

By the time you drove down your block you saw an unfamiliar car in front of your house. When Miguel pulled into a drive way, " Maldita sea!" he swore under his breath. You look to him before looking ahead and sigh in frustration. "You have got to be kidding me." (Damn it)

Waiting in your drive way was no other than Sofia.

"Stay in the car." Miguel looked over to you with worry in his eyes, before he turned to look at Sofia with a glare. He gets out of the car and walk towards Sofia. He had closed the car door so you couldn't fully here their conversation, but you could tell that Miguel was getting more frustrated the more Sofia stood there with a care free attitude.

"Mama?" Your eyes widen and turn around as you see Gabi was awake.

"Hi baby bug. How did you sleep?"

"Good. Are we home?"

"Yes, we are sweetie."

"What's Papa doing? Why is that lady there again?" Gabi pouted as she saw her father having a yelling spat with that same strange woman. You saw her begin to tear up. "Oh baby." You quickly get out of the car and make your way to the back as you unbuckle her from her car seat. She balled as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You run her back and whisper in her ear saying, "everything is ok. It's ok baby bug."

Hearing his daughter crying Miguel turned around to see you consoling her with worry and fear in his eyes wanting to know what happened.

"She woke up to you outside the car, and got scared with what's happening. You need to leave Sofia. Your making Gabi upset." You shoot daggers her way, to which she rolled her eyes.

"She's a kid. They cry all the time. I doubt it's because of me. Her mother." Sofia said as she tried to walk up to you to get to Gabi, but you stepped away as you turned Gabi away from her. Miguel stepped in the middle protecting you and Gabi from her stepping any closer.

"Leave Sofia. You have no right to be here. And stop saying your her mother. You're not."

"I'm her biological mother. I have every right to have her in my life. And I'll take you to court to prove my point." Argued Sofia.

"Sure take me to court. I have enough money to fight you. But I have enough evidence to say you didn't want her. Even now you barely care about her. You're upsetting my daughter. Now leave."

"Ugh, whatever. But I'm not done here." Sofia rolled her eyes as she walked back to her car and got in before driving away.

Both you and Miguel's attention went back to Gabi as she still was crying in your arms.

"Come here princesa, I'm sorry you had to wake up to that. Everything's ok now." You briefly gave Gabi to Miguel so that he could console her.

"Papa has to pull the car into the drive way. I'm going to give you back to Mama, ok?" Gabi nodded, still pouting as Miguel gave her a kiss to the top of her head before handing her back to you. You kiss the top of her head as you wiped away the rest of her tears.

"Hey, while Papa parks the car in the garage, what are some things you want to do for your 6th birthday party next week." You say, as you unlock the door to the house and walk inside. A smile graces your lips as Gabi perked up slightly when you mentioned her birthday. While Gabi went on an adorable tangent of different things she wanted to do for her birthday party, you looked at your surroundings, happy to be back.

You head to the living room where you sit on the couch with Gabi still in your arms as she begins to calm down and return to her cheery self.

"Can we do a princess super hero theme?" Gabi raised her head from the crook of your neck as she looked up at you, face tear stained.

"Of course we can do that. I'll start coming up with some ideas and I'll show them to you."

"Yay!" Gabi yawned as she rested her head against your chest.

"Do you want to take a nap?" You asked her which she nodded slightly against you. You smiled as you stood up from the sofa and walked upstairs to her bedroom to tuck her into bed.

When you went back downstairs you heard Miguel in the kitchen. Entering the kitchen you hug him from behind as he drank his coffee. As you rest your head against his back you felt his muscles shift as he move his arm.

"¿Dónde está Gabi?" (Where is Gabi?)

"She got tired after crying so I laid her down in her bed to take a nap." You could tell he was still annoyed, not just at the argument with Sofia but also with you.

"Miguel. I was thinking of what you said earlier..." You felt him tense slightly as he turned around to face you. You saw hope glisten in his eyes. You glance away from him as you move to face against the island counter, contemplating your next words.

"Cariño?" Miguel moved behind you as his hands rested on your hips, encouraging you to turn around to face him, which you did as you looked up into his reddish brown eyes.

"What about 5 years? When I'm 26."

"Is there anyway I could get you down to 3 years?" Miguel added softly with a slight hesitation in his voice. Your gaze shifted from his to the fridge.

Three years? That's wasn't that far from now. But maybe you should consider it. It's not like he's not able to support you. But the thought of being financially dependent on him bothers you, brings chills up your spine. It would make you feel like you were using him, even though that wasn't the truth. You sighed. Maybe you will be doing well with a career in 3 years?

You look back up to him, a smile coming to your lips. "Sure, three years." Your answer brought a wide smile to his face as he leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips. The kiss began to get more heated as Miguel lifted you on to the counter, settling himself between your thighs as he continued to abuse your lips.

"Can we go to our room?" You huff out a breath of air, lips swollen slightly. Miguel nodded as he lifted you from the counter, large hands cupping your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips smashed against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

The tension and stress between the you both of you didn't get you upstairs as you pass through the living room Miguel decides to lay you on the sofa, with him over you. He pressed his lips to yours, "thank you for compromising, hermosa. You'll be an amazing mother." Miguel said as he kiss down your neck to his shirt that you borrowed this morning as he unbuttons it, throwing it to the ground when it's off of you. He loved it when you put on his clothes.

"I know you'll be an amazing father. You're already such a great one now." If eyes could physically turn into hearts that's what Miguel would look like after your words, as his heart is filled with so much love for you.

His lips moved down to your now bra less chest as he latches on to one of your nipples. A moan escapes you as you comb your fingers through his black curls.

You help pull off your leggings, knowing that if you didn't get them off sooner you knew Miguel would rip them off as he has in the past. Miguel helped you pull them off before ripping your panties off. In the past you would get annoyed by it, but now you always by them in bulk. Cause no matter how many times you tell him to just take them off, his sexual urge to be inside you always makes him forget, or not care. But seconds after they are off your forget as you feel your self get stretched by his large girth.

Your hands move on to his shoulders as they lightly claw his back. "Fuck baby, you're tight. Relax for me, cariño."

You felt your pleasure course through your limbs, now relaxed as you slightly move your hips to gain friction, signally for Miguel to move. He removed himself until the tip before thrusting completely into you with the snap of his hips, making you gasp out a moan.

As Miguel continued his assaults to your pussy he lifted your hips, gaining a new position inside you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans. You felt every one of his ridges move against your gummy walls, while his tip hit your g-spot continuously. Miguel removed your hand from your mouth as he held both of your wrists above your head with one of his.

"No mi amor. I want to hear your beautiful voice." Miguel groaned as his forehead pressed against yours.

"B-but Gabi." You managed to let out.

"It's fine, she's all the way upstairs." Miguel kissed your lips as they moved down to your neck as he began to suck against the sweet spot, letting out another gasp.

Miguel's pace quickened as he continued to ram into you. He was fucking you so hard you thought you felt your insides become messed up. Miguel looked down towards your torso. He felt his cock grew harder as he saw himself physically stretch out your insides.

"Fuck, I can never get enough of this amazing pussy. I can't wait to see this belly swollen with my children. I can't wait till you bare my children, mi amor. Te quiero tanto, hermosa." Miguel said in your ear, making your heart swell with love.

"I love you too, Miggy. So much." You felt your core twist in a knot before releasing, as you moan out loud from your climax. Not long after Miguel thrusted deep inside, balls slapping against you as he spills deep inside you, making your inner walls white and filling you until it starts to spill out of you.

He pulls out as he took a deep breath, placing a loving kiss to your lips before parting as his forehead rested on yours.

After resting on the sofa after your love making Miguel lifts you from the sofa and carries you to the master bathroom, where he turned on the Roman-size bath.

When it was ready he carries you into the water, where he found a place to sit and rested against the wall of the bath resting his arms on the sides as you rested your back against him. You both stayed there in perfect silence, showing small affections of love with kisses and small loving touches until fatigue took over your body as your eyes closed falling asleep.

—————————

Two days before Gabi’s birthday

“Yay! We’re here!” Gabi cheered as she helped the popular cartoon gift bag in her hands as she ran up to the front door of the house.

You and Miguel smiled down at her excited attitude. Today was one of her close friends birthday party, sadly it was at Ms. Johnson’s house. The woman always got on your nerves, as she tried to flirt with Miguel every second she could. And in front of you too. Of course, no one knew you two were dating. This was your first appearance as a couple, so you were curious if she soul try to do the same thing.

After Gabi rang the doorbell the door opened revealing your favorite person.

“Ah the O’Hara’s and Y/n. How nice to see you again.” Ms. Johnson said with a the most fakest smiles, it took all of your will power not to roll your eyes. She welcomed the three of you inside as Gabi wandered off the the backyard where the rest of the kids were.

With a hand on your lower back you and Miguel followed Ms. Johnson to the living room where other parents talked while sipping on cocktails and eating snacks. When you both entered many parents stared, one whispering to the other, “I can’t believe he’s with Sam and Sarah’s daughter. I’m shocked they even showed up here.”

“I know. Especially after what went down at the holiday party. He’s so attractive. He could literally have anyone and he chooses this girl?”

You tried your best to pretend you didn’t hear the conversation as you kept your smile on your face. The audacity of some of these people. They should just mind their own damn business.

“Would you care for any drinks? Y/n are you old enough to drink?” Smiled Ms. Johnson as she looked at you.

“Yes I am. Maybe you had two many glasses of wine since you can’t seem to remember my age. You should slow down.” You smile as you hear Miguel trying to stifle a chuckle along with a few other people in the room.

“I’ll get you two a glass of wine.” Ms. Johnson smiled before leaving the room.

Miguel leaned down to whisper into your ear, “We’ll have a glass of wine and then we’ll say we have to go to another event for my job.” You turn to look up at him with a smile. “Sounds like a good escape plan.” Miguel returns your smile as he leaves a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, so like what is it that makes you interested in a guy like Miguel. He is like over a decade older than you.” Said one of Gabi’s classmates dads as he walks over to you.

“Ryan, you can’t just say stuff like that. It’s rude.” Scolded his wife next to him. “I’m sorry about him. He’s had a few too many beers.” She chuckled.

“No, but I’m serious. Cause like y/n your freaking hot. Why be with a man so much older? Yeah ok, Miguel you keep yourself in shape man. But like, I just don’t get it. Like I’m 6 years younger than you Miguel, yet I don’t have a young hot babe beside me. Ah, maybe it’s the money.”

Your eyes widen from his words.

“You listen here. You’re lucky there are kids around us or my fist would be in your face. If I ever here you disrespect my girlfriend again, you’ll deeply regret it.” Miguel got into the man’s face sending him a deathly glare as his voice turns into a serious tone. Giving the guy a slight scare he raised his arms up in surrender as he moved away from Miguel.

“Maybe it’s best if you and Ryan leave.” Said Ms. Johnson as she came back into the room with two glasses of wine for you and Miguel. How you so desperately wanted to drink this glass in one swoop.

The couple left to your relief, but you still weren’t comfortable as he wasn’t the only one thinking that same thing about you and Miguel.

After talking with these unbearable people for a hellish hour, Miguel finally decided that it’s time to go.

“We’re going to head out. We have another event to go to.”

“Aww alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Ms. Johnson smiled flirtatiously towards Miguel wondering if he was picking Gabi up up after the sleepover.

“I am actually. So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” You smile as you take Miguel’s empty wine glass and hand her both of your glasses. He smile faltered before being replaced with a fake one.

“Perfect. Well…I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Until then.” You return her fake smile before you and Miguel left the living room to give Gabi a quick goodbye before you both left the house.

Walking a block from the house you say, “oh god, was that unbearable. I swear these people are just like on drugs or something, this neighborhood is just so nosy and rude!” You laugh, hysterical from the event.

“Yeah, that was pretty bad in there.” Miguel chuckled before he silently snuck up on you and lifted you up by the waist, wrapping his arms around you before placing a big kiss to your cheek. You let out a laugh as he continued kissing your face and neck. “Miggy, wait till we get home.”

“I can’t help myself mi amor. Now that our relationship is public I want the whole world to know how much I love you.” Miguel kissed your lips one more time, before setting you down. You intertwine your fingers with his as you hold his hand walking the rest of the way back home.

———————-

The day of Gabi’s birthday

“Good morning baby bug! Happy Birthday!” You smile as you sit on the bed beside her.

“Here is a first gift out of many princesa.” Miguel handed her a new stuffed kitty cat animal. After sitting up Gabi hugged the stuffed animal. “Thank you Papa! I love it! I’m going to name her snowball!”

“Such a cute name for a cute kitty.” You smile as you brush strands of hair out of her face. Miguel lifted Gabi out of bed as he hung her upside down on his shoulders.

“Oh no Gabi, the house turned upside down!” Said Miguel as he walked her out of her room and downstairs towards the kitchen.

“Papa, I’m the one that’s upside down.” Gabi giggled from her fathers words. You chuckled along with them as you followed them down to the kitchen where a stack of pancakes topped with berries and whipped cream smiley face and finally a candle.

When all three of you entered the kitchen Miguel flipped her right up and sat her on the kitchen counter chair.

“One last thing.” You say as you get the lighter to light the candle. Once lit both you and Miguel sing Happy Birthday in Spanish before she blew out the candle.

“I wished for everything to stay at it is.” Gabi smiled as she swooped a strawberry in the whip cream and ate it.

“I couldn’t agree more princesa.” Miguel smile as he kissed the top of her head.

After eating together as a family, Miguel went to go get ready for work as he needed to attend an early meeting.

“Ok my two favorite girls. I’ll see you both after work and we’ll celebrate your 6th birthday at your favorite restaurant, princesa.” Miguel walked back into the kitchen in his suite.

“Yay!” Gabi raised her hands in excitement. You chuckled as you saw her face was covered in whipped cream and syrup. You grab a wet cloth and wipe her face before kissing the top of her head.

“Goodbye princesa.” Miguel kissed the top of her head as Gabi wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a small hug.

“Bye bye papa. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He then walked over to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you against him as he gives you a loving goodbye kiss.

“Goodbye cariño. Have a nice day with classes. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye. Have a good day at work. I’ll pick up Gabi from school.”

Miguel looked at you and Gabi one more time with a wide happy smile before leaving.

The entire work day was chaotic as he had no time to take a break until now.

Miguel smiled wide as he entered the luxury store. He gazed around before his eyes darted towards his main mission here.

“Welcome Sir. How may I help you?” Said the stores salesman as he greeted Miguel with a welcoming smile.

“I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”

“Wonderful! We have a great selection. What’s your price range?”

“Can I see your most valued rings?”

The store clerk eyes widen and smile grew bigger, “Of course. Follow me this way. We keep our nice items in a private room.” The salesman gestured for Miguel to follow him.

After some time and looking through a vast amount of rings, Miguel eyes landed on the one. The one you knew would be perfect. Because you were perfect. And you deserved the best.

“This is the one.”

“That’s an excellent choice Mr. O’Hara. That’s one lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Miguel smiled as he held the ring in his hands, so small compared to

his large hands. Just like your hands when they’re intertwined in his.

“Thank you for your purchase. Please feel free to reach out if you have an questions or concerns about your purchase. Have a nice day.”

“You too. Thank you.” Miguel left the store, stopping a few feet away to open the box and look at the ring again.

His phone went off. Miguel rolled his eyes thinking it was work as he close the ring box and put it in his coat pocket before he took his phone out of his pocket. The number calling was unfamiliar, but he press the green button, deciding to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Mr. O’Hara speaking?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Nueva York Medical. You were listed as Ms. Y/n L/n emergency contact?”

“Y-yes.” Miguel’s heart stopped before rapidly beating against his chest as his stomach dropped.

“She was in a car accident.”

————————————————————————

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specialagentlokitty · 4 months

Text

Negan x reader - we’ll stay

The snow was blinding, freezing, and no matter how tightly you wrapped your blanket around you it wouldn’t do anything to help you.

You tripped slightly, stumbling a few steps into the man in front of you.

“Sorry…”

Negan slowed his steps slightly, walking alongside of you.

“You good?”

You gave a weak nod of your head, and he watched as you pulled your blanket a little closer to yourself.

Negan turned slightly, using his torso to stop the majority of the snow from hitting you and you glanced up at him.

“You’re being oddly nice…”

“Hey, if we’re gonna freeze to death out here may as well freeze be me first.”

You laughed slightly, shaking your head at him.

Negan grinned at you, looking ahead of him to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into anybody before turning his attention back to you.

You pulled your scarf up a little further.

With a small sigh, Negan took his blanket off, taking off a jacket and he took the one underneath off, holding it out to you.

He put his jacket on and took his blanket back.

“Go on.”

“Negan you need this, put it back on.”

“Yeah, you’re probably going to freeze before me, and since you’re the only fucker who even likes me at this point I can’t be letting you die.”

You smiled at him, passing him your blanket so you could put his larger jacket over yours and you took your blanket back.

“Plus what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer a stunnin’ lady like yourself my jacket?” He flirted.

“Yeah guess you’d be a bigger dick than you already are.”

His face twisted with mock hurt.

“Ouch, okay. I may have just saved your life.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You’re fatass ego don’t need to be any bigger.”

Negan chuckled a little, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, placing his hand on your head, using his blanket to try stop the harsh weather hitting you.

“Judith!” Gabriel yelled.

Everybody stopped, and you and Negan spun around to watch her running away.

“Judith!” You both yelled.

Negan was the next to go, and you cursed quietly.

“Negan stop!” You shouted.

You shoved your blanket into the hands of whoever was behind you and sprinted after him, trying to find him.

“Negan?! Judith?!”

You spun around in a circle, looking around, looking at the ground to find their steps but you couldn’t even see your own.

“Negan?! Judith?!”

You tried to listen, but with wind roaring around you, snow coming at you from all directions it was impossible to make anything out.

Taking your scarf off you pulled both jackets around your nose, using the scary to hold them in place so you could try keep your face warm.

You pulled your sleeves down, putting your hands in your pockets as you carried on walking.

You should find shelter, but you had to find Negan and Judith to make sure they were both fine and safe.

But you didn’t know if you were going in the same direction, a different one, circling around again and again.

The blizzard was getting worse, you were shivering, and you were finding it harder and harder to walk, to breath it was that cold.

You dropped to your knees, lowering your head you pulled down the scarf and jackets, breathing in the freezing air.

It burned your lungs, and you pulled the jackets back up again.

Pushing yourself, you slowly began to walk, still trying to find the pair.

You couldn’t go on for much longer, your body couldn’t handle the freezing temperatures anymore.

Eventually your legs gave way, and you dropped to your knees.

“Judith…! Negan…!” You called weakly.

You hoped they would be nearby, but there’s no way they would have heard you.

Slowly you fell forward, shaky breaths wracking your body as you tried to keep moving.

“S..shit…” you whispered.

All you could do was listen to the sound of the wind around you, hiding your face in the jackets, covered your head with your arm in the hopes it would something.

Your eyes were fighting to stay open, and it was a loosing battle for sure.

You didn’t know how long you had been out there, if this storm was going to let out anytime soon.

It didn’t work, there was no winning this fight, even you knew that.

So, you stopped fighting, you closed your eyes and let the snow collect on your body, covering it, hiding it from anybody who might try find you.

As the storm rolled over, finally passing, daybreak came and Michonne and the others came home.

Everybody was playing in the snow and laughing, and Gabriel walked over with a serious look on his face.

“What is it?” Michonne asked.

“We’re missing (Y/N). She ran off after Negan to find him and Judith, she hadn’t returned Michonne.”

Everybody slowly stopped.

“You mean (Y/N) was still out here?” Daryl asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Get everybody that can look, move slowly and quickly, if she’s in the snow we don’t want to step on her.”

Negan looked at Siddiq who was treating his wound on his leg.

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

Siddiq didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said it all.

“No…”

Negan tried to get up but he was pushed back down.

“No! If she’s out there I have to find her!” Negan snapped.

“Everybody is looking, but the chances of survival out there all night are next to zero.”

Negan pushed him back and tried to get up, only for Michonne to stop him with her sword to his throat and he slowly laid back down.

“You’re staying here. We have everybody looking for (Y/N), and we will find her but even you know being out all night in that storm it doesn’t look good.”

Negan clenched his jaw, and he turned away, staring at the wall opposite him.

“Why pretend you care?”

Michonne walked around to stand in front of him, so he had to look at her and he did, his eyes locked with hers.

“Why?”

“Who the hell said I was pretending? I tried to go back out but those assholes wouldn’t let me.”

“Because you could run away!”

“You think I’d fucking run away in that?!”

They both went quiet and Michonne studied his face, his body language, the tone of his voice.

“(Y/N) is the only one who treated me like I was human, she is kind.”

“Shit… you really do care, don’t you?”

“Why the fuck do you think I want to go out there?”

Michonne sighed.

Walking over to a chair she sat down, looking at him and he looked at her.

They spoke, but went quiet when the door was slammed open, and you were rushed into the room, to bed opposite his.

“Is she alive?” Michonne asked.

Negan tried to get up but the look he was given made him stop again.

He looked at you, they pulled the cold jackets off you, tossing you aside to then covered you with blankets, trying to bring your temperature up.

“There’s a pulse, but it’s barely there.” Siddiq replied.

“If we can bring her temperature up we might have a better chance, the snow insulted some heat but not much.” Daryl said.

Negan could see your face now, you were so pale, your lips were tinged blue.

You really did look dead, well and truly dead and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“This room is too cold, we can’t heat it. We don’t have enough water either.” Gabriel said.

“Bring her here.” Negan said.

They all looked to him, and Daryl scoffed.

“As if. We’re not bringing her anywhere near you.”

“Look, I’m not going anywhere at I? She needs a constant steady source of heat or you’ll send her into shock and she’ll die! Is that what you want? You wanna kill her?”

They all went quiet, looking to Michonne for an answer on what to do.

This was her call, it was all up to you.

He was right, you need to be gradually warmed, and if they keep trying all these different ways then you would die.

“Do if, carefully, and only one blanket, we don’t want to send (Y/N) into shock.”

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious!” Daryl yelled.

“If we don’t (Y/N) will die! This is our best chance!” Michonne yelled back.

Gabriel and Siddiq carefully moved you over to Negans bed, rested your between his legs, your back on his chest, and they covered you up with a blanket.

“If you try anything…” Daryl warned.

With that, he left the room, and Michonne pointed her sword at Negan.

“Anything at all Negan, we will kill you.”

“I won’t.”

Michonne lowered her sword and they all walked away.

When they were gone Negan sighed, placing a hand on your forehead.

You were that cold that it made him slightly cold.

He pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, and rested his arm over your collar bone, his hand on your shoulder as he leant back.

“You’re a damn idiot…” he whispered.

He carefully sat up, peering down at you.

The colour still hadn’t returned to your skin, and he raised his hand that was resting on your shoulder to your neck, pressing it on your pulse point.

He could feel it faintly, and he lowered his head to your nose just to make sure that you were still breathing.

He couldn’t rest, every so often Negan would check your breathing and pulse, and he would let Siddiq check you over when he came by.

As night began to fall, Negan sat reading by a small light.

Negan had a book in one hand, his arm still draped over you, and his leg under yours.

Setting the book down so he could turn the page, Negan shuffled a little, wanting to stretch but not wanting to move you too much.

Siqqid came back, placing his hand on your head, and he studied you for a minute.

“She seems to be doing better, I’m going to move her back into her own bed.”

Negan snapped his head up, tightening his hold on your.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“She needs her own space for when she wakes up.”

“She needs, and will stay here.” Negan said lowly.

Siqqid sighed, moving away.

He couldn’t fight Negan he knew that, even if Negan was hurt Negan will still knock him to the floor.

“If anything changes, if she gets worse come find me. She needs to drink this when she’s up.”

With that, Siqqid set a cup on the table and left, closing the door behind him.

Negan waited, and he slowly set his hook down.

He carefully moved you, resting your back on the bed, and he rolled to the side with a small grunt of pain, wrapping his arm around you, his hand on your hip while he rested his head on his other arm.

He just stared at you, studying your features, how peaceful you looked, the colour had slightly returned to your face, you felt warmer.

He was exhausted, all he wanted to do was sleep but he didn’t want to risk anything happening to you, so he stayed awake for as long as he could before exhaustion got the better of him.

You weren’t sure what made you wake up, but your eyes shot up and you took a few deep, shaky breaths as you stared at the ceiling.

You laid there for a few moments just staring straight up, letting your senses come back and give yourself time to figure out what happened.

“Negan… Judith…” you whispered.

You tried to pushed yourself up, but you didn’t have the strength, and you noticed something else was weighing you down.

Reaching for the blanket you tossed it aside, finding a hand resting on your stomach, a leg thrown over yours.

You turned your head, coming face to face with Negan whose eyes were open, watching you and he smiled slightly.

“Stay there.”

He covered you up and got up, walking to the table he grabbed he glass and sat next to you, helping you sit up so you could drink it.

He placed his hand to your forehead and gave a nod of approval.

Setting the glass on the floor he got back over the cover and laid down again, putting his leg back over yours, his hand going back to your head.

You slowly turned over, laying on your side, and he trailed his hand to the side of your face, tracing small circles.

“What the hell were you thinking…?” He whispered.

“You and Judith ran off… I had to find you…”

“Yeah, and you nearly fucking died in the process…”

You sighed a little, and he sighed back.

“Sorry… I’m sorry… I just… I swear I wanted to go find you…”

“It’s better you didn’t go out…”

Negan gave you a disapproving look.

“That’s not true, if I did maybe I coulda found you.”

“Or you’d be frozen too…”

He gave a small shrug, grinning a little bit at you.

He felt a shiver run through you and he pulled the blanket a little tighter around your body, moving a little closer so you were almost nose to nose with him.

“Idiot…”

You laughed softly, closing your eyes.

Negan closed his as well, and he felt your hands grip his shirt.

“I’ve got you…” he whispered.

“Negan…?”

You heard him hum, moving his head so that he could tuck your head under his chin.

“Stay…”

“I’m not going anywhere…” he whispered back.

You nodded, and Negan held you a little closer.

“You better stay too because if you don’t I’ll kick your ass.”

This made you laugh.

“Yeah.. yeah I’ll stay…”

“You better.” He chuckled

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith x y/n #Negan smith imagine

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 6 months

Text

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 6

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, 6.2k words

Warnings: Violence, Cursing

A/N: GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. But it is finally here. After this we only have one more chapter, so y'all I'm just so emotional. Thank you all for your patience and all the love you have shared. I'm so grateful. Special shoutout to @hoodeddreams13 for letting me chat them up to discuss this chapter because I was STRESSED. Anyway, sending all my love to you guys. Enjoy! - Mo

Alfie had convinced himself that he was doomed to hell for all of his evil deeds in life. The lying. The bloodshed. The rage. But perhaps he had done something good in this life. Maybe God finally took pity on Alfie Solomons. Perhaps the Angel Gabriel had put in a good word for him. He must have, because there was no other reason that he got to have the blessing of you nestled in his lap, face buried in his neck, small hand tangled in his unruly beard. He had dreamed of this forever, and now it was finally true. He never thought that he would get to have this. Warmth. Love. Safety. "Alfie? Darling where is your mind at?"

He felt your lips at his neck, and sighed, "Nowhere sweet. Just enjoying your company."

"Hmm… Alfie, I wish every moment could be just like this. I don't want to be anywhere else but here in your arms."

He shifted beneath you, to bring your face to his. Nose to nose, breathing in one breath. "My sweet girl, whatever you wish, you shall have yeah? You can stay here, right next to me. And we'll never leave this spot."

"We'll grow old here in your chair. I on your lap. Till the ages go by. And the vines and trees grow around us. And all of Camden will fall away and here we will be together."

"Exactly right my pet. Exactly right."

As if the Somme had suddenly emerged, Satan's army came hurtling through Alfie's door, with Sabini at the helm. The gun fire lit up the room, and all Alfie could hear was your screams of agony. In his arms you were no longer there. The silken white dressing gown he had just been caressing was stained crimson, and the color in your face had turned to ash. Alfie, who has never been lost for words, who has always had something on the tip of his tongue, had nothing come from his mouth but horrified screams. He kept shaking your shoulders, hoping to God that you would wake up, but your limp limbs gave nothing to life. He screamed and screamed your name, until his lungs gave way.

In a sudden jerk, Alfie sat up in his freezing room, his bare chest covered in sweat. The room was bathed in a light blue from the bright moon outside his window. He was alone, save Cyril on the floor by his bed. The house was quiet, and he was alone. You weren't there. Your lifeless body wasn't there. It wasn't real. None of it was real. The fear that took over his body from the dream shouldn't be so potent anymore. He'd had the same dream every night for the past week. And every night he woke up with his heart coming out of his throat and tears streaming down his face. And every night he would stop by the house you were put up in, patrolling around it with the man stationed there, ensuring that every door was locked.

The plan Tommy and Alfie had concocted had become a bloody mess across the city. Tommy’s men had marked every business and alcove the Sabini’s even had minimal connection to. One by one, they were blown up, burnt to the very foundation. Alfie’s boys had been performing psychological warfare as well. The major Sabini players had been followed by phantoms, never being truly alone, until they were slaughtered in their beds, door frames set ablaze. Everyone in Camden was talking about the horrific curse that befell the Sabinis. How it would soon overtake all of them. The city was simmering, about to burst through and explode. Though the Shelby and Solomons boys were making headway, Alfie couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

This war was killing him. The business was killing him. He felt it. And you were seeing it. He was drinking more. Eating less. Even when you tried to touch his cheek, to remind him of the moment you two shared and the fact that you were still here and alive, he huffed and moved away from your caress. Your touch brought back the visions of his nightmares and the smoldering tailor shop. It was killing him. It was killing you.

Alfie had created a moat around you, keeping you at a distance and protecting you from him. You had been relegated to simply his secretary. No more. No less. No longer his confidant. No longer his support. No longer the sweetness or the warmth to his day. And while you knew that he was doing this out of fear and out of wanting to protect you, you couldn't help the feelings of rejection from rising in your stomach. You couldn't shake off the feeling that he saw you as a child. As a small ceramic doll that needed to be shielded and held in a box. He didn't look at the sketches you had drawn up for the club. He wasn't even letting you in on the meetings anymore. It was no longer just hurting you. It was now irritating.

On a cold and wet morning, you had enough. This could not stand. You were more than just a desk girl! You were not a girl who needed to be shielded damnit! During an hour you knew there was not going to be any meetings or meddlings, you knew you had your time. You pulled your sweater tighter around you, and pushed in to Alfie's office. "Alfie, we need to talk."

Alfie didn't even look up from his desk and the accounts he was checking, "Not now Ms. Abraham, I am currently checking your math. Tomorrow yeah?"

You pulled the chair out to sit, "No Alfie we need to speak right now."

His broad shoulders slacked down like weathered masts of a ship, and the breath released from his lungs was low and slow. His eyes pressed together as he scrubbed his face. Looking out the window of his office, rubbing his unkempt beard, "What could possibly need discussing now? You already finished all the work I gave you. And there are no more meetings. You can go home."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the room freezing but your neck hot, "That's exactly it Alfie. You are treating me like a simple secretary."

"You are a secretary love."

"Let me rephrase for you. You are treating me like an idiot. An idiot secretary. You're treating me like a child."

Alfie just stared at you, eyes smoldering like kindling in the stove. He stayed silent, lips tight, you couldn't even tell if he was breathing. If you didn't know him you would think that he was going to fire you. But this was just Alfie. He was thinking. Plotting his next move in this eternal game of chess. Maybe if you were a more ruthless and emotionless player you would have kept you mouth shut. But who cares about winning a chess game when your heart is being chipped at slowly and painfully.

"Alfie, You shut me out. If... if what happened in the jewelery shop was a mistake -"

"It wasn't a mistake."

You paused, staring into his eyes, but he merely nodded at you to continue. "Alright. Well... if it wasn't a mistake. Why are you shutting me out? Why aren't you... letting me be your secretary like I have been all this time. Who does this benefit Alfie? Because you look even worse every day and... well Alfie I feel alone. I feel alone Alfie. I'm scared. I don't know what is going on. I feel lost. And you aren't sharing with me what I need to know. Do you think i can't do this job anymore?"

Alfie stood up, going to the window, looking out at the rain tapping the window and stones below. Though you were screaming inside for a response, you knew this movement. He was thinking, calculating. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to you in this moment. He turned to you, then walked to the door of his office, "Tea?"

It was so odd watching him make his and your tea. Frankly, you didn't even know that he had remembered how you took your tea. It was perfect. Though it was the perfect cup, and the atmosphere should have made a comfortable and relaxing time, your brow was still furrowed, confused as to what Alfie was playing at. He was drinking his own tea, staring at you in between the breaks of his scribbling in the notebook.

After what seems like hours, he finally paused, "Alright treacle. Let's talk business."

"Business?"

"Yes my dove, because what we have here yeah, is quite a bit of a conundrum so to speak."

He took a long drag of his tea before setting it back down and beginning again, "Now...treacle. Like I said yeah? We have a great conundrum. Because you... my viper... have performed a feat like none other. You yeah, have become two people at the same time."

"What are you talking about?"

“Just listen alright? Now, not only are you a damn good secretary… a very damn good secretary; but you are also someone I have grown rather… fond of.”

"Just fond?"

"Actually a third thing too, a pain in my ass. Damn woman I am trying to talk to you! Shit! Listen! I... may... feel quite fond of you. And in this business.. it is very dangerous to have people who you are fond of. Much more dangerous to have people know about your fondness for others. Now... do you understand what I'm saying treacle?"

Eyes wide, playing with the loose string on your sweater you nod and Alfie grunts in assent. "So you see my dove, I am very very fond of you. In fact it makes me absolutely sick. But... I don't want my fondness for you, to affect your safety. You understand? So that is why I have been... more reclusive."

Alfie watched you nod, your eyes wandering to the corner of the office where some spiders had begun building the foundation of their new home. He watched the quirk of your lips, and waited. You weren't about to agree. "Well... Alfie... what if you weren't the only one who was deeply fond of someone? Hmm? What then?"

"Well that would be a problem right? Because that would be a mutual deep fondness and it would be highly innappropriate."

"Why?"

"Because you are a good girl and I am a bad man."

"I don't care."

"Well you should."

"I don't."

"Well fuck treacle it is entirely out of the fucking question. It doesn't matter who is fond of who it does not matter. What matters right? What really matters, is that I keep you safe, and you get to walk out of this office and find someone your age and who is not damned to the fucking gates of hell!"

"I don't care! I don't fucking care! Because even if you are damned to hell, I have been living in one! You think you keeping me in a box will keep me safe and make me happy? I'm alone! I'm scared! And the one person in this whole fucking world who makes me feel safe is keeping me at a distance!"

Tap

The large drops of soft rain trickle down the steamed up window panes like tears from God. And soft blue light of the covered sun illuminates the storm brewing behind Alfie's eyes and the gale force winds sighing from his lungs. These past few weeks you have felt like one of those palm trees you saw in a painting in your childhood books. Swaying in the wind of Alfie's hurricane. You were in the eye of it. You were the eye. The small bit of calm in the center of the madness. But one move to the left or right would put you in the throws of it, threatening destruction and death. Yet it was suffocating in the center. No where to move. All the oxygen being sucked out.

"Alfie... don't keep me away. I can't stand it."

Alfie never took his eyes off you. In his stomach he felt as if rocks had taken up residence. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do. He loved you. He loved you and he couldn't say anything about it. He couldn't for a million and one reasons and yet it was cutting him up inside to hold in this declaration. He loved you more than anything in this world, and he would absolutely evaporate if anything happened to you. And that is why he couldn't love you. That is why he couldn't say anything. But God did he want to take your tears. To hold you in his chest, to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be ok. That he would kill every person who even looked at your house or you. That he could do it. That he could change the tides if it meant you were happy. If he could have you... you would never want for anything again.

But that's not what is best for you is it?

With a grunt Alfie stands up, motioning for the door as the clock struck 2, "Come on darling... let's get you home. "

Alfie's heart cracked into two pieces when he saw that first rivulet fall down your cheek. Silent tears that never ended all the way home. He thanked God that you let him walk you up to the door, but was not shocked when you walked in without another word. As Alfie turned back around to head back to the car, your father stopped him, "Mr. Solomons... won't you come in for something warm?"

Alfie had this house furnished and ready for the family in the wake of the fire. But your family brought another level of color and warmth that could never be bought, and it brought back memories of his mother so vividly in his mind. It was warm and rich, and the tea provided by your father was strong and invigorating, much like him. Alfie hadn't noticed how much Esther favored your father. The crease in the brow was carbon copy, and Alfie had to supress a smile on his lips when he made the realization. After the formalities often afforded to business associates, your father spoke, "Mr. Solomons... I will be candid... I know that my daughter works as your secretary. And I know that Eli works in your shops."

Alfie slowly blinked. Nothing could be said, and he had prepped already for this exact scenario millions of times.

Leaning back, letting his hands rest on his stomach, your father continued with a sigh, "And...man to man... I know that my daughter not only loves her job... but also Mr. Solomons... loves you. And I suspect, that you have loved her and do now. Yes?"

This was not something Alfie had prepared for.

"Please do not deny Mr. Solomons. Though you are a gangster you are a man and I have seen many a man fall over their feet for my eldest but you," pointing his finger at Alfie, "you have done more than trip over feet. You love her. Do you deny it?"

"No Mr. Abraham. I don't."

"You want to ask me for her hand in marriage?"

"Fuck me."

"Please Mr. Solomons, Mrs. Abraham will have a fit if she hears that talk. What do you want with my daughter? She will not be made a fool."

Alfie waved his hands in the air, trying to clear out the fog in his mind, "No Mr. Abraham I- yes. Yes Mr. Abraham, I love your daughter very much. More than I should. More than I deserve. If I were a better man I would... I would have married her weeks ago. Proper marriage. Proper ceremony. Or whatever she wanted it doesn't matter to me. She... she's the best moment of my day and the worst is when she leaves. She gives me a headache every time she argues with me but makes me feel better than I have since I was boy right? But I can't love her proper. I can't give her the life she deserves Mr. Abraham because of the nonsense that I bring. Mr. Abraham I'm man enough to say that I don't deserve her. But I'll protect her and your family until a better man comes along."

Your father hummed, looking into Alfie's eyes, as if reading all the other words that Alfie couldn't say. "You know... Mr. Kahn... he told me when I was a young man... that it is often the people who are most deserving of love who think that they don't deserve it. It is the most bravest people who think they are not brave. And the best people who think they could be better. And I wonder... Mr. Solomons... if you have forgotten that love is not a token something to be earned, but rather a gift which is freely given. It's there whether we think we deserve it or not."

Your father put a finger up to Alfie, and tip toed to the cabinet to pull out a clandestine box of cigarettes and match. Handing one to Alfie he says, "Mrs. Abraham has been trying to get me to quit for 30 years and I can't shake it. Indulge with me won't you?"

Alfie greedily sucked in the smoke, as if sharing a secret with a classmate. After a few moments puffing in silence, your father spoke up again, "My daughter is very stubborn as I'm sure you know. My wife and I know she loves you but she cannot say it to herself. She's never been good with admitting a vulnerability like that. But she will. But she won't if you keep pushing her away Mr. Solomons. And I'm sure the last thing you want is for her to be far from you yes?"

Alfie nodded in assent, reeling from this conversation. Your father's large cheeks raised in a smile, nearly concealing his eyes, "Good then. Now Mr. Solomons. regarding your shirts, Eli will be by your house at 8pm with a pack. And I’ve taken the liberty of adding a more secure button and stitch pattern.”

As he turned away he added, “I think you’re a better man than you give yourself credit for Mr. Solomons. Don’t let fear get in the way of life. We’ll all be ok.”

Alfie nodded once again, placing his fingertips on the ornate mezuzah on the doorframe. Feeling a strange peace wash over him as he touched his fingers to his lips. On the drive back to the office and the drive back home, he thinks about what your father said, the way he was welcomed into the home and table. Maybe this could work. Maybe… maybe this war could end. And he could keep you safe. And he could make you happy. Maybe… maybe it will work.

The next day when you came to work, Alfie was already in, talking to Ollie and Ishmael, maps and ledgers all over the place. The fire in the stove by your desk had already been lit and brought to vibrant life. A small bouquet of lavender and baby's breath was at bright attention in a chipped cup on the desk, right next to a blueberry scone and a little note reading 'Can't do this without you' in large and jagged neat script. "Ah treacle! Shalom. Ollie, Ishmael that will be all, get to it yeah? I want proof of death by this evening. Treacle come in please?"

You walked in tentatively, nodding and saying good morning to Ollie and Ishmael as they left. As you take you seat, Alfie is pouring out your tea and putting out the cigar he had been nursing all morning. "Here you go love, drink that down. Listen... I've been doing some thinking... and as much as it stabs me in my cold rotten heart... I do believe you are right, and I'm in the wrong."

Your tea must have been poisoned, because you spluttered at Alfie's admittance, "Alfie? Are you not well? Are you dying?"

Alfie rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small chuckle that spilled out, "No I'm not dying you vile woman! I'm apologizing! Wipe your mouth darling you'll drip on your nice dress. Like that by the way, is that new? Anyway treacle. I have been keeping you away from things. I am fond of you I worry about keeping you safe and away from the mess. I know you ain't a child, but I can't help but feel rather responsible for you. Especially now that your family knows that you're working for me."

"He told you?"

"Yeah, yeah he did treacle. Real shit espionage on your part dear, you will not be given any jobs that require being discreet love I'm sorry, but frankly you cannot lie worth a damn."

Your nostrils flared at the dig at you, but you couldn't help the smile at the corner of your lip due its' truth. Alfie continued on, "This war love, it ain't nothing new to me. And it is necessary for both me and the Shelbys. The Sabinis are right rats and I'm quite sick of their activities. If I am too... rough in my handling of you I am sorry, I do want you in this, and I can't do it without you. But I need you safe. Understand?"

Your eyes bore into his, and he was teetering on the thin line of relief and vomiting due to his new found vulnerability. "So you won't send me home early anymore? We'll go back to business as usual?"

"Yeah... If you'll have me."

You bit your lip, trying to hide your happiness and relief, "I think that is amendable to me."

You shook hands, and shivered slightly at the renewed contact that you had secretly craved for weeks. With a quick release of breath and a final firm squeeze of your hand, Alfie released reluctantly, "Beautiful. Get your little notebook and get comfortable love. We have a lot of business to attend to."

Did you ever. You had mistakenly thought that though Alfie had been sending you home, he was handling everything swimmingly. However, Alfie was actually about to collapse under the amount of plates he was spinning. You reorganized his calendar. Argued at length about the numbers and the accounts until they were perfectly balanced. You reviewed the designs for the gaming club, now named Crown and Horse, and chastised Alfie for failing to choose the wallpaper despite opening night coming in three weeks. More had been accomplished in a single day than had been done in the past week, and you both were abuzz. Alfie could not deny the fact that he had felt better than he had in weeks having you back in his atmosphere. He felt lighter. He laughed easier even if it was at his own expense. Looking at the way your eyes danced along the pages and listening to the ringing of your voice as you hollered and laughed brought him more bliss than any rum or draught that could be cooked up.

As the weeks went by, more and more Sabini strongholds and hiding spots were blown to pieces. More and more Sabini men and soldiers were driven mad by the dark spectors haunting their steps, until they were quietly taken in the night. You were aware of it all, through the whispers in the street and the information Alfie shared with you. The tailor shop was nearly finished, but business was booming more than it had in years. Whether it was due to people feeling sorry for the fire or due to peoples new found respect in the family's tie to Solomons, you couldn't tell. But your father looked more settled than he had in ages, and that was enough for you.

Opening night of the gaming club was to be a grand affair. The Shelby boys had opted to hire a band to play, and gaming tables were to be pushed to the sides to keep room open for dancing. Despite protestation from you, snow would be available along with good drink, anything to keep the crowd raucous and loose lipped. “The only difference between high brow and low brow people treacle, is how willing they are to get their good clothes dirtied up.”

Alfie had asked to escort you to opening night, you tried to decline, as you had nothing quite so suitable for an event. But Alfie scoffed, suddenly producing a wine red evening dress, with nearly black beads dotting the dress, catching the light to look like the night sky. Of course, you scolded him harshly, it was not in the budget you had set for the opening. Alfie smirked, touching the gold locket,that he refused to take back, on your neck, “There’s always room in the budget. I’ll pick you up in the car. 7. Make sure that locket stays on yeah?”

The last ‘date’ you had been on was a abject disaster. You were 17, and your date reeked of cigarette smoke and paint thinner. He took you to the pictures, where he proceeded to kiss a girl who sat next to him on the other side. To add insult to injury, Eli sat behind you to see the entire thing, and swiftly began to punch the living daylights out of your date. Eli did win, but did sport a black eye for a good while, and teased you about him for years to come.

Not that this was a date! This was not a date! This was merely a business event. A business event with your very handsome boss in a dress that he bought that just happened to be the perfect fit.

Or so you argued with Eli as he teased you from your doorway watching you pin your hair up. “Uh-huh of course. So do you think that Alfie will propose to you tonight? Or is the little locket the sign you’re using for your betrothal?”

“Get out! God don’t you have anything better to do?!”

“Mmm no Im off today. Watching you put more effort into your appearance then you ever have in your life is amusing to me.”

You spun around, “I look terrible don’t I? I look ridiculous! Oh damnit that’s it when Alfie comes you will have to tell him I caught a pox or something!”

Eli threw his head back hollering in laughing, throwing himself on your bed, “Oh my gosh!! Dear heart you don’t look ridiculous!!! You look nice!! Like a regular star! I’m only teasing you. Please please you must go. I don’t think a pox lie would keep Alfie from pushing his way into the house to get to you anyway.”

Watching him from the mirror you said, “You don’t think so?”

“Alfie? No nothing. And I don’t think it’d keep you from seeing him either. Am I wrong?”

Your head fell on the desk, “Eli… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know if… I’m allowed to feel… the way I do.”

“Well you have to say it in order to know if it’s right.”

You turned to face him, “Eli,.. I feel… home. I feel like I’m right where I need to be when I’m with him. And I want to be next to him all the time. I don’t like not being near him. It feels like… I’m missing my favorite book. I’m still me if I’m not with him. But I’m always searching for him.”

With a soft smile Eli responds, “and why wouldn’t you be allowed to feel like that?”

“Because… well… I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. He has enough to deal with.”

Eli looked around the room, waving his hands, “Well… he did all this… and had only asked that you don’t quit. So… not that I don’t think you’re smart… but I don’t think you’ve really thought it through… it seems… like you’re looking for a reason to not love him so that you don’t feel vulnerable… am I wrong?”

Chewing on the nail of your thumb, a persistent habit you've tried to kill for years, you mumble out, "I hate it when you do that."

Eli merely smirks, mirth glittering in his eyes, "What is a brother for if not to see you past your walls? Now!" Eli stands grandly, as if finishing a fabulous routine for a crowd, "It's nearly seven mouse. Finish up so Mr. Solomons isn't kept hostage by Esther for too long."

You waived him away giggling as the memory of Esther attempting to put fake rouge on Alfie glimmers in your mind. Eli was right. He usually is, as infuriating as it is. While you had lulled yourself to sleep with fantasies of loving Alfie fully and replayed the moment in the jewelry shop every quiet moment you had and felt Alfie's breath on your neck with every whisper of the wind... you never allowed yourself to truly imagine and consider love. Never allowed yourself the pleasure of the thought of him loving you. But.

If he does.

If Eli is right.

If Alfie Solomons loves you.

And you love Alfie Solomons.

Who is to say that you can't be together.

What is to keep you apart?

What is to make love unsafe?

Your reverie and final touches are interrupted by sweet Esther bounding in joyfully, "He's here!! Mr. Alfie is here!"

She pauses at your seat on the vanity, mouth agape, teddy dragging on the floor from where it hung from her grasp, "Wow... you look like a princess..."

You laughed out, gathering Esther in your arms to carry her downstairs, "Well thank you my sweet girl. But surely not as beautiful as you."

She sqeauled and giggled as your pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks, dark red lipstick smudged on. Alfie's eyes were drawn away from Eli's story to land squarely on you and Esther. It was as if everything melted away. You were always beautiful. Always. Not a single moment was different. But in this moment you were otherworldly. Your beauty was only enhanced and amplified with the fine clothes and extra time put into your makeup and hair. The smile you had on your face was radiant and true. The love in your heart shone out adding a glow around you. Alfie wanted to live in that glow forever. Eli stopped talking and smiled at you as he watched Alfie walk towards you like a man in a trance. When you finally set Esther down, you turned in a circle, letting Alfie get a full view, "Is this ok Alfie? You don't think it's too much?'

Alfie shook his head, motioning for you to spin again, "It's absolutely perfect. You look like a right star. Every man will want to dance with you sweet."

You chuckled, "Well they'll be disappointed won't they? I only dance for one man."

For the first time in his life, Alfie felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He had never been flustered before. Silently, he grabbed your hand and pressed a whiskered kiss to your knuckles before leading you out. You waved by to Eli and Esther, excited for the evenings festivities.

You were shocked that the floor hadn't broken underneath you. It was packed. It was alive. It was proving a success. The band John Shelby had booked was relatively new but had shown the crowd the best time they would ever have. The dance floor was vibrant with sequined and bejewled bodies. Gaming tables were sending men to the grave and to Olympus in equal measure. Drinks were flowing like a river, and no one was exempt from its effects. When the Shelby boys whisked Alfie away for drinks and business, you were quickly adopted by Esme, Ada, and Polly. And though you knew that the Shelby - Solomons relationship was at some moments rocky, you felt immediate connection with the women, and knew in your heart that a friendship with them would be more than just business. Your face was hot and your body was buzzing from the energy in the room. You and Ada became fast friends, dancing and twirling like silly girls in the playground. Soon enough you collapsed into barstools laughing and whispering about the scenes surrounding you. But soon enough, your conversation with Ada was cut short by a warm and calloused hand on your shoulder. Looking up you see Alfie's glowing eyes and flushed cheeks. Ada smiled and slipped away as Alfie leaned in to your ear whispering, "Dance for me?"

You nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled from your seat to the center of the dance floor. You felt weightless as you were sucked into Alfie's embrace. A slower number was being played by the band, and though you were surrounded by couples, you would never have known. All you could sense was Alfie around you. In any normal circumstances you would have scolded Alfie for holding you so possesively in a public setting, it was improper. But you couldn't care. How could you, when your body was wrapped in Alfie's strong arms, your fingers raking through his hair, and his beard scratching against your cheek. How could you care when you were living in heaven.

"Are you having a good time my sweet girl?" Alfie husked in your ear.

You smile, bringing his nose to yours to whisper against his face, "Yes, now that you're here. Only one thing could make it better Alfie."

"What's that?"

You force your eyes to meet his storming ones, letting your hand run through his beard, "A kiss."

Alfie's large hand slides to the back of your head, making a mess of the pins holding your hair. His face came to yours, kissing you fiercely, and all the months of waiting, debating, and worrying finally melted away. You let your hands rush into his hair, mussing it as you have longed to do for nights and nights and nights. Sweet and tender and hungry and longing, Alfie's lips against your own was the only thing you could understand in that moment. It was the only thing you could comprehend. Pulling away, Alfie huffed out, "Fuck..."

You laughed at his toussled visage, "Is that all it takes to make you silent Mr. Solomons?"

His eyes grew dark, and you suddenly felt a thrill in your stomach, "Careful treacle might just have to do that again."

Alfie was reaching for you again when a commotion began at the bar.

On top of the crowded bar was Sabini, with a gun pointed directly at you. You could see Tommy pushing people out of the way telling them to get out, trying to get to Alfie. John and Arthur and other Peaky boys were fighting men off, trying to pull down Sabini

"SOLOMONS! You think this is how business is done?" Sabini howled from his place on the bar. "You think you can do this to me? You think this is how you kill a Sabini? You think I'll let a bitch destroy this business? I'll kill you all!"

Bang. Bang.

You fall to the ground. The smell of smoke and iron filled the air. You felt warm liquid on your body, and the sound of people screaming and running fill your ears.

But no pain. No fading and no light coming towards you. A heavy weight is on you groaning out your name. It takes a few moments to understand what was on you.

Alfie.

Your body suddenly awakens. Sabini was on the ground, pale and being carried out by his men leaving a trail dark blood in his wake. Alfie had pushed you to the ground to take the shot meant for you, covering your body with his in his fall. You pushed yourself out from under him, holding his face in your hands, screaming above the crowd, "Alfie! Alfie look at me!"

His eyes were searching for you, "Treacle... treacle you alright love?"

"Alfie you stupid stupid man why did you do that! Alfie please!"

He smiled weakly, "It's alright sweet girl. Old Alfie's alright. Barelt a scratch on me love. Couldn't let my best girl get hurt yeah?"

You looked down at his stomach, a sickly red bloomed on his crisp white shirt. Not a scratch. Not alright. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks, "Alfie we need to get you to a doctor. We need to go now."

Alfie shook his head, raising his hand to your trembling face, "Nah... I don't think so sweet girl. Just give me a moment. Just let me look at your sweet face for a little. Just give me a moment."

Alfie's eyes fluttered shut as he passed out. Shaking, you began screaming his name, "Alfie... Alfie! Alfie wake up!! Ollie!!! Ollie fuck get over here! Somebody help!!! Somebody please help!!!"

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #Interviews for New Beginnings

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weirdmorefics · 5 months

Note

Hiya, could you do a Aziraphale x Demon!Reader x Crowley (if that's alright with you) where it's the end of season 2 and the reader is arguing with Aziraphale because he's leaving and Crowley is just standing behind them still trying to comprehend what's happening, but because the reader is a demon they have never cried not once in their life so they start breaking down (ugly crying) and it pisses of Crowley seeing reader cry like that, hope this request is alright can change it it you want to x

A/n- Oh my goodness love this request I am a sucker for angst

AO3, Etsy Shop, Youtube,

TW- Major sadness

Reader's Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 978

Nothing Lasts Forever

Crowley x Reader x Aziraphale

Y/n anxiously plays with their hands waiting for Aziraphale to return, "Do you think he's safe with Metatron?"

"I am sure he will be fine. As much as we love to save our dear angel and mock him mercilessly, he's been protecting himself for eons," Crowley replies confidently.

Despite Crowley's confident words his face does not appear to match. He places Y/n's hands in his own and does not speak a word about it.

After sitting in silence for a long time, just the two of them ruminating on their own thoughts, a bell rings. Y/n stands up speedily and Crowley is quick to follow. Y/n moves closer to Aziraphale to check if any harm has been done but he has the widest grin on his face so the pair doubt he is injured.

"What did he want," Y/n asks fearing the answer.

"With Micheal being gone... there is a space. He wants me to be an archangel," Aziraphale beams with shock and joy.

Y/n is frozen in shock and Crowley steps closer, "He said what?"

"He said I could appoint you both to be angels! Come back to heaven and-and everything!" He uncharacteristically stutters due to the pure amount of joy. "Like old times probably even nicer!"

Y/n clenches their fist and gulps loudly even though they don't technically need to as a celestial being it just seemed like the situation desperately called for it.

Crowley went straight to anger, "And you told him where he can stick it? Oh, we're better than that! You're better than that, Angel! You don't need them! Y/n and I certainly don't need them! They ask Y/n and I back to Hell! We said no! I am certainly not going back to their team! Neither should you!"

"You two obviously said not to Hell, they're the bad guys," Aziraphale states surely. "Heaven is the side of truth, light, of good," he lists confused as to what Crowley is not getting.

If I could throw up I think I would. If Hell loves punishment so much you think they would make vomiting a must because it looks really painful when humans do it. Again maybe they wouldn't do that because vomiting is a way of cleansing your stomach and they are very against that.

"When Heaven ends all life on earth all humanity will be just as dead as if Hell did it," Crowley states. "Tell me you said no," Crowley says each word as if it were the end of a sentence.

Aziraphale does not respond and I am finally able to push words out of my mouth, "You did say no Azirapahle... right?"

"If I am in charge I can make a difference," he looks into Y/n's eyes with pity.

Y/n eyes have an unfamiliar feeling, they feel wet and sting.

Crowley starts to pace, "Oh god, oh, I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say. I better say it now. Right okay. We are a team a group of us, we have known each other a long time, we all rely on each other. I would like us to- I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it. Go off with each other, then we three can! Just the three of us! We don't need Heaven we don't need Hell. They are toxic! We need be away from them and just be us," he looks between the two of us.

The unfamiliar feeling in y/n's eyes spreads leaving a trail of wetness down their cheek. The wetness keeps spreading they can feel several different lines of water down my face.

Aziraphale runs up to Crowley, "Come with me to Heaven I'll run it the best and you will be my second in command! We can make a difference!"

Y/n bites her lip harshly, " What about the bookshop? What about humanity? The new food inventions you will miss out on? What about our life here!"

The two look at Y/n oddly and the new feeling in them makes them clench their eyes tight and gasp. Y/n wipes their hand across their face and looks down at the wetness in their hands. The wetness won't stop streaming down my face. This isn't right. I shouldn't be able to cry. I shouldn't feel this deeply. Nevertheless, I can't stop the water in my eyes and can't stop gasping for air that I don't even need.

Aziraphale looks at me in a way he never has before. It's the gaze humans give their offspring when they first realize the world is unfair and unjust.

"Oh Y/n, nothing lasts forever," Aziraphale says regretfully.

Y/n puts their palm to their chest and gasps, "Oh."

Crowley looks at Aziraphale with disgust, "That's how it is... good luck then."

Y/n looks up at Crowley vision blurry with newfound tears and Crowley looks back mournfully. Crowley throws his arm around Y/n's shoulder and starts to escort them out the door.

"Good luck?' Aziraphale gasps. "I don't think you know what I am offering the two of you!"

"I think the two of us know better than you do," Crowley snaps back.

Aziarphale tries to negotiate with Y/n, "Y/n, please you are supposed to be the reasonable one out of the two of you! You are no demon you are crying!"

Crowley's jaw tightens and Y/n clenches their fists harder than they have in their entire long life.

Y/n can barely gasp out, "You hear that?"

Aziraphale shakes his head rapidly, "I hear nothing!"

"Exactly, no nightingales," Y/n gasps again.

"You idiot! We could have been something! Just the three us," Crowley shouts as he leads Y/n out the door leaving a stunned and a little bit broken Aziraphale.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #crowley x aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #crowley x y/n #crowley x you #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x y/n #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x reader #good omens drabble #good omens oneshot

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nee-biter · 8 months

Text

Pink | Virgin!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Synopsis: Miguel has a crush on you, the popular girl from his biology elective class. After your ex-boyfriend threatened you at a house party, all Miguel wants to do is make sure you’re safe and sound. And that your ex pays for it.

Warnings: Cursing, Sexual Abuse, Leaked Nudes, Some Violence, Sexual References, Alcohol, 18+ only even if it's not full smut yet This is part one of a two-shot fic! I'll be uploading the nsfw part two HERE soon! :>

Pop songs continued to burst through the speakers, as everyone danced and drank. The thin walls of the apartment—not his, just a random baseball jock—moved at every reverberation of the bass. Miguel tried to keep a steady hand at his cup, still half-full from the cheap liquor that a dude was passing around. The reason for his intense focus—you, from across the room.

You were all dolled up, but not for him. Not for anyone, really. But for yourself. That’s what he liked about you. Your hot pink dress that clung tight to your body, your hair flowing freely and reaching the middle of your back, and your legs smooth and supple—he couldn’t stop looking even if he tried to. You were chatting with your group of friends and having a good time.

“I swear to god, you have to talk to her.” His younger brother, Gabriel, who was unfortunately invited to the party despite just being a sophomore, swung his arm around his older brother. “If you don’t, you’ll get stuck with me the whole night and that’s a bit lame.”

Miguel grunted, not wanting to get lumped together with his brother.

In truth, Miguel knew that he should approach you. It’s not like you two weren’t close. You were his partner in biology elective last semester. Though he had known who you were, since you were one of the more popular girls among your batch, that was the first time he met you. It was one of Miguel’s better memories, remembering how ecstatic you were getting paired up with him, since he was majoring in Biochemistry. He had asked, “What’s your major?”

“Art Management,” You had said, unconfidently. “It’s like the business side of Fine Arts.”

“Why didn’t you take the actual Fine Arts?”

“I’m not that good. And if I’m not that good, my art’s probably not worth anyone’s time.” In that memory of his, your head was bowed down as you said these words. Your chirpy energy suddenly dropped. Even in that moment of your first meeting, he wanted to assure you that you were a good artist. Miguel could see that you had a genuine heart and that your vibe wasn’t fake.

That’s why Miguel couldn’t understand it when you told him you were dating Harry Osborne, a privileged prick. Harry’s dad and Miguel’s dad were business rivals, so maybe Miguel had a bias against him. Miguel, a rich kid, having beef with another rich kid; it was laughable. But even so, Harry wasn’t treating you right. Miguel could see it every time your gaze would be stolen by your buzzing phone when you two would do pair-work. He could see the anxiety on your face as you tried to ignore the calls and texts. Miguel wanted to tell you to save yourself from your boyfriend. But ultimately, it wasn’t Miguel’s business. He wished it was.

Timeskip to now, you had just broken up with Harry five days ago. Here you were, partying. Miguel was glad, you seemed happier. But he was so hesitant to talk to you. Miguel didn’t want to seem like he was being an opportunist. After all, he had the biggest crush on you. But then, you made eye contact with him from across the room. With a warm smile, you waved at him. “Come here!” He heard you shout.

Miguel exhaled, relieving his tension before he made his way to you. “Hey, (Y/N)!”

“Miggy! You’re here!” You were bouncing to the rhythm of the song, moving away a bit from your friends.

“Yeah, I managed to swing by! You’re um,” Miguel stuttered, wanting to compliment your dress, your dancing, your anything, but he just awkwardly whispered instead, “You’re here, too.”

Now, in your eyes, Miguel was exactly the man you wanted to see. Not your bully of an ex-boyfriend. Not even the dude hosting the party right now. It was Miguel. You were harboring a bit of a crush on him. You didn’t want to admit it, because you just got out of a bad relationship, but your heart’s already beating for him. Whenever Miguel would do pair-work in biology with you, he’d always give you reassurances that your solutions regarding isotopes and their relative abundance quotients were right. To him, they were just basic solutions. But to you, they were hard to understand. That’s why it mattered so much that Miguel was never condescending, even if sometimes you get it wrong.

You couldn’t help but lean closer to him when you two were across from each other at the library table. You couldn’t help but bat your eyelashes at him, pretending you forgot what the difference of anabolic and metabolic pathways are. You liked the way he would open his notebook, skim the paper lines with his calloused fingers—why were they rough?—then, recap the topic to you with a serious expression. You liked that he was very passionate about his major. You liked the way he wore thick sweaters, making you question what’s hidden underneath them.

Miguel wormed his way into your heart. The only thing you wished to change was his mixed signals. Sometimes, he acted aloof to you, proceeding to bury his face in his books, squinting at you, or being almost an hour late to your study sessions. And yet, sometimes, you caught him staring at you. He’d look away instantly. Now that you’re single, you hoped he’d ask you out soon.

“So, who did you come with?” You asked, wondering if he went to the party with friends or with another girl.

“Oh, just by myself.”

“Really~” You asked, teasingly. “Then, why do I see your brother doing belly shots with those people?” You pointed at Miguel’s brother, lying down on the kitchen aisle. He spotted you two and waved back at the two of you.

Miguel cringed, then muttered some phrases in Spanish, but you couldn’t understand. You chuckled, assuring him that it’s fine. “Sorry, he usually stays at home. Don’t worry, I’m not chaperoning.”

You giggled at his words. He loved the way your eyes crinkle, when you laugh. He was so happy to see you. But the happiness was shattered when a new party barged in the living room—Harry and his two ugly friends.

Miguel immediately looked at you; his own face mirrored your worry. He wanted to pull you away to a different corner of the apartment to distract you, but Harry called out to you as soon as he saw you.

“If it isn’t the girl I dumped!” Harry declared, pushing his face close to yours. Everyone within your vicinity started looking.

“Actually, Harry—she dumped you,” A friend of yours said.

“No, she didn’t. Why would she? I’m the best she’s ever had!” Harry was leaning close to you; his breath reeked like alcohol. Miguel had had enough. He put himself in between you and Harry, giving the boy a glare. But Harry was drunk and stupid enough to not back down. “I know you, you’re O’Hara’s son. How does it feel having your daddy almost fucking bankrupt?” Harry turned to you. “Is this your new man?”

You looked at Miguel as your face flushed even further. You couldn’t say anything, overwhelmed at the presence of your ex.

“Listen,” Miguel muttered angrily, “Just leave her alone. And leave my dad out of this, too.”

“Fine. Fine.” Harry raised his two hands in mock defeat. But he winked at you. “I’ll leave her alone, alright.” He almost turned away. You and Miguel almost sighed in relief. But he just made it worse by addressing everyone. “By the way, look at your phones, people! Have a look at my ex!”

Everyone’s phones started dinging. You felt your blood go cold, your stomach frozen over. One by one, you heard your own moans and whimpers coming from people’s phones. It dawned on you that he shared leaked videos of you to everyone. You didn’t even know he took them. You didn’t have the heart to check what specific lewd moment was captured of you. Your friends started shouting at other people to turn that shit off. Miguel looked at your face, not once checking his phone. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t find it funny. Not at all. The music stopped and you felt all eyes looking at you. As if he wasn’t cruel enough, Harry turned up the volume of his phone at just the right moment of you screaming his name. That’s when two things happened—you bolted away from the party and Miguel suckerpunched him in the jaw.

Harry laid on the floor, his jaw an obvious red. Your friends started kicking his unconscious body and they told Miguel to find you and bring you back. He followed, wanting to know where you are and wanting to soothe your pain. As much as he wanted to beat Harry into oblivion—his main concern was you. Where were you? What were you feeling? How can he help?

He exited the building and looked around the street for you. You were at the heart of Nueva York; you could be anywhere by now. Quickly scanning the brightly lit streets thanks to the neon billboards and LED lamp posts, Miguel finally noticed your figure hastily taking the left to a busier street. Miguel called out to your name but you momentarily disappeared in the crowd. He pressed on further and caught you entering a convenience store.

Miguel entered, too. The bright lights of the convenience store made him jolt, claws instinctively coming out. So he placed on a unique pair of glasses. He saw you crouching at the cold drinks section.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Miguel asked, crouching at your figure.

Your mascara was ruined as tears had been streaming down your face for a while now. Your nose and lips were puffy, even as you bottomed out a bottle of mule. “Don’t look at me.”

“Can we talk, (Y/N)? You look like you need some fresh air.”

You didn’t answer as you nursed down the beverage.

“Also, have you paid for that?”

You shook your head. You were ready for him to pester you even further with more questions, but what you didn’t expect was that he just sat down beside you. In the middle of the cold-tiled aisle, Miguel just pondered the silence with you. You became aware of your beating heart almost made numb by the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny the heat in between your bodies. Miguel provided such warmth and such hope in your shameful situation You felt tears brimming your eyes. They couldn’t be stopped. “Did you—Did you… watch it?”

“No,” Miguel reassured you as quickly as you had asked. “I will never.”

You leaned into his shoulders, noticing how he didn’t flinch at your touch.

“If it helps, I think you can report him.”

You considered it for a split second before rationalizing with yourselves. “His dad will just pummel my reputation even more. There’s no winning here, Miguel.” You buried your face in the darkness created by bringing your knees closer to your chest. Miguel reached for the bottle, taking it from you. “I should just accept it.”

Miguel felt even worse now that you’ve given up. He wanted to make you happy. He wanted to respect your decision of course, but at the same time, he didn’t like how that asscrap crushed your heart to pieces. You didn’t deserve that. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

You were silent for a bit. “Sleep with me.”

“What?!”

Lifting your head from your knees, you looked at him with a straight face. “Sleep with me. Please.”

Miguel, flustered, just kept staring at you. Were you serious? You seemed like it. His mind tempted him to meet your demands. If it makes you happy, then he’ll make you happy. But he was quite sure that you’re just drunk, lonely, and vulnerable—not really a good sign that you’re thinking clearly. Also, he was hesitant because of another thing. “That’s not a good idea. I should bring you back to the party.” He tried standing up, but you grabbed his sleeve and mumbled more pleas. “(Y/N), you know we can’t do that.”

“Why not? I like you, Miguel. Please.”

Miguel stood there, trying to think of possible scenarios. Maybe he could go to your apartment, tire you out (in a non-sexual way), then leave when you finally go to sleep. But you’d probably get worried that he did something to you while you’re sleeping—not good. Maybe he could pretend to not be interested in you, then bring you back to your friends. But he’d risk losing what he has with you—not good.

No matter what rationalizing thought he had, the temptation to give in won over his heart, his logic, and his virgin cock. That’s right. Miguel hasn’t done it with anyone. It’s not because he was saving it or anything. It’s not even because he was never attracted to anyone before you. It was his spider-man gigs and his academics and his double life and his teen-turned-sudden-adult angst and his anal-retentive father. In his 20 years of life, there just wasn’t a time for it. Now, you’re suddenly offering sex to him. Why would he refuse?

He coughed, not believing what he was about to say. “If we’re gonna fuck, you better sober up.” Miguel snatched a water bottle and some snacks from the nearby aisles, then helped you up until you’re standing. “I’ll pay for your alcohol, but leave it behind, please.”

You stood up, hugging his arm as you’re still inebriated. You let him lead the way as he paid for the food, before leading you outside. Finally noticing the glasses he was wearing, you poked at it as he grimaced at your touch. “Glasses?” You mumbled as you buried your face in his arm.

“Yeah, they’re light-sensitive.” He hooked your arm as he led you through the crowd. “Where do you live, (Y/N)?”

“Not telling!” You teased, before gulping down water.

“Do you want to have sex or not?”

“Hehe. Sixth avenue. Alessandra Palace. Not a real palace.”

Miguel crouched on the floor, offering his back for you to ride on as you tried sobering up. You giggled as you got on his back, peppering kisses on his ears. Miguel blushed at the contact and told you not to do that. You pouted with an audible ‘hmp’ before Miguel held the back of your knees and lifted you up. “Mind texting your friends that I’m taking you home?”

“Why are you so strong?” You whispered while rubbing your forehead on his sturdy back “Thought you were a nerd.”

“(Y/N).” As much as it confused him to admit, Miguel was having fun seeing how adorable you were in this state. “Hold on tight.” -- end for now --

#miguel o'hara #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara x reader #someone makes a cameo lol #gabriel o'hara

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reds-ultrakill-brainrot · 8 months

Note

hiya! firstly, thank you for filling my current brainrot on this game, you are the best

could i get some gabriel romantic headcanons? enjoy your day!

You Were Like an Angel to Me

gabriel romantic relationship headcanons

x reader content (intended romantic)

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- he had never taken much of an interest in having a hobby before, his duties had never given him the time. this changes after he meets you, your passion in your hobbies inspire both affection and interest in him, and it isn't long before he begins practicing in his spare time to share with you - it isn't the most surprising thing that he is incredibly touch starved, however the issue goes further than that. Gabriel was designed to act as a soldier for God's will, a spear against the darkness and a voice for the aimless. the only compassion intended in his design was that for heaven's chosen, not himself. his reaction to comforting touch is shock and immediate discomfort, not to the physical sensation- he could drown in that, but in what it represents. all he had ever recieved were compliments for his actions and abilities, the people of heaven revered him, but they did not truly love him, not like you do. it takes a fair amount of time for him to settle to the idea of intimacy, but once he does he incorperates it into nearly every interaction, wether that be a lingering touch or a short embrace - i imagine his wings aren't corporeal, however this doesn't stop him from wrapping them around you while the both of you cuddle. he sees it as his job to protect you from the numerous threats across both heaven and hell and he knows with you safe in his arms nothing bad will happen - despite his distaste for their inhabitants he does appreciate the architecture and views around certain layers of Hell (such sentiment has never been voiced and never will while he serves the council). if you appear interested in viewing any of the more notable sights around Hell he will volunteer to take you, being that you are willing to go no further than an arm's reach. he trusts you, however he does not trust the wretched beings that inhabit Hell - a majority of his tasks are dealing with the more distasteful tasks such as quelling unruly inhabitants of Hell and overseeing the conduct of other lesser angels. he rarely wishes to recount his day to day activities, much preferring to hear about your own day to day life, mundanity and all. such domestic normalcy is a dream to him, so please humor him with details of chores and unruly hair, nothing would make him happier - he is quite easy to fluster, especially with any particularly forward expressions of affection. he quietly delights in the attention he receives for his reactions; teasing may have a slight sting to it but is much easier for him to digest than soft words - if you ever choose to dress in his colours or in similar attire you will find him enamoured, his gaze unable to leave you for long. he very quickly notices the gesture and the creeping burn of a blush doesn't leave him until he is forced to take a moment to compose himself - he is especially gentle with you. oftentimes he chooses to let you initiate physical contact to allow you to approach it at your own pace and to avoid manhandling you by accident. he is exceptionally strong, and all it would take is him being distracted to grip you too firmly and bruise you, or, Heaven forbid, worse. he has seen the damage that his wrath incurs and would sooner perish than harm you - he (much to his own dismay) doesn't have a mouth to kiss you with, however the both of you have learned to make do with other gestures. touching foreheads has to be his favourite, there is something about having you so close to him that calms him almost instantly. of course you are still able to kiss him, and despite his, at times, inelegance in other romantic interactions he is always quick to respond if you peck his cheek; expect to be swept up in his arms for a hug

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the sneak peaks at the new chapter have been really interesting so far, i am excited to see where Hakita is taking the plot (especially Gabriel's story) next

#ultrakill x reader #gabriel ultrakill x reader

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cherryredstars · 10 months

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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: short references to fighting/neglectful homelife, but mostly fluff

Summary: Taking a day off from work, Miguel sits with you as you both spend the day building legos.

A/N: I had the undying urge to write this after continuously seeing posts about Miguel loving legos and Lego Peter. This is my first time posting anything on Tumblr so I apologize for any mistakes :))

Word Count: 1K (edited, but may still have some errors)

Miguel always loved legos as a kid. Legos were the perfect escape for him. It preoccupied his mind, forcing him to forget about his neglectful parents and disappointing home life. It was the one thing that could be just his, even when he let Gabriel help him when his parents were having screaming matches in the kitchen. Miguel would beam with pride after finishing a set, everything being perfectly in place and showing what time and dedication could result in. Even as an adult with multiple worlds weighing on his shoulders, Miguel still indulged in legos occasionally. He had an impressive collection on display in his personal office at home, but barely any free time to add to it. He suspected that it was one of the major reasons why he loved Lego Peter so much, though he would never admit it to another breathing soul. The smaller Spider-Man reminded him of simpler times. Times before the multiverse consumed his every hour and normalcy was still within reach for him.

Today, however, the multiverse (with reluctance from Miguel) could wait. Or so you say. With your skills of persuasion, (you had called Jess and told her she would have to be in charge for the day as Miguel had “fallen ill”), you had successfully convinced Miguel to take the day off and spend it with you. He had complained at first, but later found himself relaxing as he sat besides you on the living room floor. You had decided that today would be dedicated to quality time between the both of you and that meant you would only do activities you could do together. That’s how Miguel found himself watching you become progressively more frustrated as you tried to build the lego set you had gotten him for his birthday. It never occurred to you that in Miguel’s advanced, futuristic dimension, that legos would also be more advanced and way more complex than what you were used to in your universe.

"I think this is the right piece. This is the right one, right?" you question, your head looking from the instructional pamphlet to the small structure in front of you.

Miguel watches in amusement as you count the pegs on the picture and compare it to the piece you snapped into place. You sigh as you realize that it, in fact, is not the right piece. Of course, Miguel already knew that the second you lifted up the lego piece. But who was he to ruin your concentration? He wouldn’t want to be “nagging” and “a backseat driver", as you so kindly described his previous attempts to help. You lift up the structure to eye-level, trying to gently remove the piece without breaking any of the work already made. You try to slide your nail in between the two pieces, but find that it stubbornly won't disconnect. Of course, even in the future some pieces still get stuck together with no way to remove them.

Your brows furrow at your failed attempts before giving Miguel an exasperated look, “You know, this is supposed to be a fun group activity. Not a ‘let me do nothing but sit around and watch as the love of my life struggles and does all the work’ activity.”

You hand the configuration of legos out to him and he simply raises a brow, "Who said I wasn’t having fun? On the contrary, I find your frustration entertaining." He reaches out and takes the structure from you, “It isn’t my fault you can’t follow simple instructions.”

You roll your eyes at him and hold up the instructions to his face, “How, in any universe, are these instructions classified as ‘simple’.” Even with your Spider intelligence, the symbols and pictures are complicated to follow. Trying to decipher them is an hour-long activity all in itself.

Miguel shakes his head, “The box says for ages 12 and up. You’re in your 20s, yet you can’t understand pictures made for middle schoolers.” Carefully, he extends his claws and slides a single one between the pieces you tried to separate. He takes care to not scratch or damage the legos as his long talon easily disconnects the pieces with a pop. He smirks lazily, smug with the knowledge that he completed the task in seconds while you were struggling for the past two minutes.

He places the structure back into your hands and places the incorrect piece back into the pile on the table. He picks out the correct piece and slides it over to you. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as you roll your eyes again, “Yeah, well they made ‘Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?’ for a reason.”

Miguel sits back against the couch and smiles ever so slightly to himself as you continue building his lego set. Every now and then, you turn back to Miguel with a pout when you need his help separating legos or building a particular section. Of course, this leads to more snide and teasing remarks from him, but he can’t ever deny you anything and he can’t deny that your reliance on him does wonderful things for his ego. Eventually, you end up sliding over the whole set of instructions to him, prompting him to explain the next steps to you. The process goes by much quicker with Miguel telling you what pieces to use and where they go. The structure is done in less than 3 hours, halving the time it would take you if you had done it alone.

Later, Miguel sits in his office. He works on catching up on everything he had missed on his day off. It’s late into the night and the only source of light comes from the yellow screens that he studies. By now, you are already in a deep sleep down the hall in your shared bedroom. As he works, Miguel can’t keep his eyes from straying. Even in the dark, his enhanced eyes can clearly see the finished lego set placed front and center on his shelf. It is surrounded by framed photos of the both of you together and other miscellaneous trinkets you had given him throughout the course of your relationship. It is a shelf dedicated solely to his relationship with you. He scans the shelf once more with a small smile and Miguel thinks to himself that, just maybe, legos aren't the only thing that make him feel normal again.

I am so sorry if any of the writing is shitty! It has been a good year since I wrote anything. I promise (hopefully) these will get better as I write more! But, I hope you enjoyed it :)).

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #atsv #atsv fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fluff

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lady-belleslettres · 7 months

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You know how Gabriel is literally shipped with almost all major Ultrakill characters? Well, I'm curious, Ultrakill community.

#ultrakill #ultrakill gabriel #gabv1el #ferrygabe #gabv2el #minosgabe #i don't know what's the ship name for gabriel x sisyphus 🥲

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amomentsescape · 7 months

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Could you write something where Eric Draven doesn't come home one night so reader has to find him and drag him home to be cared for?

Risking it All for You

Eric Draven x Reader

Summary: When Eric doesn't come home, Reader decides to risk the danger of the night and go out to find him.

Warnings: Slight mentions of physical injuries

Word Count: 992

A/N: I think Eric truly brings out the romantic in me. He's just too comforting of a character.

It was simply a blatant fact that Eric came home to you every night no matter what.

Rain, snow, danger, injury, anything. He came home to you.

But when you awoke to a cold, empty bed at 4 am, you knew something was wrong.

The time he comes home every night is never quite the same, but it was never this late. And alongside this was the uncomfortable churning in your stomach that something was wrong.

Even Gabriel was pacing around the dark floor, beckoning your lover's safe return.

You knew then you had to break the one rule Eric gave you.

Don't go out alone at night.

If anyone was to know how dangerous this city can be during the darkest hours, it was him. He would quite literally break down if he knew you were already shoving on your shoes in haste, running out the door to find him.

But you loved him. And love can make you do stupid things. Well, at least in your mind, anything that involved Eric couldn't be stupid. He'd do worse for you.

You pulled the jacket tighter around your frame as the cold wind blew straight to your bones, forcing an ungodly amount of shivering to follow.

But you kept your head high, looking all around in hopes of seeing his familiar face or catching a glimpse of his feathered companion.

It wasn't until you reached a dark alleyway that you discovered your first sign of life.

You heard some shuffling and the sound of broken glass being kicked around. Whoever it was seemed to be quite uncomfortable, being hidden by the dark shadows.

The area smelled of rotten food and trash, and your nose scrunched up at the scent.

You almost turned to keep walking, until you felt a tight pull in your chest.

What if it was him?

You took a few steps into the alley.

What if it wasn't?

You stopped walking and stood still, arguing silently amongst yourself.

You could practically hear Eric's voice in your head, ushering you to turn around and go home.

Wait for me there, he said. Wait for me where it's safe.

But God, what if something happened to you? your own voice argued back.

"Fuck it," you finally said aloud.

If you were going to die, at least it was because you were searching for the one person who brought happiness to your life. At least it was for him.

You stepped into the shadows and saw a hunched figure on the ground a few feet away.

Your eyes were still trying to adjust to the darkness when the being's head slowly raised up, staring at you.

Your throat tightened and you felt a queasiness fill your stomach.

Was that...?

And then his voice rang out in the silence.

"(Y/N)?"

It was Eric. Thank God, it was him.

You ran over and grabbed him before he could fall back onto the ground.

You let out a quiet sob when you saw all the blood on him, the majority being his own.

"Eric, oh my God, what happened?" you pleaded.

He took a few shaky breaths as he tried to stand with your help.

"I thought it was just one, but they-" he let out a pained groan. "There were so many more. They were waiting for me..."

He let out one final grunt as he stood full, half his weight being held up by you.

They had jumped him. That's why he hadn't made it home to you. What would have happened if you had waited at home like he wanted you to? Would he have ever made it out of this alleyway?

The thought made you sick and you tried your best to shake them out of your head.

"It's okay, I got you," you whispered.

And then you both started the slow journey back home.

You almost lost it a few times along the way, hearing Eric groan and hiss as each step caused a wave of pain to wash over him.

You absolutely hated seeing him like this. He was hurting, and you weren't able to do anything about it right now. You loved him so much and you'd give just about anything to switch places with him.

The cold tears continued to drip down your face as you both stepped through the front door, Eric finally taking the last few steps of his journey to the bed.

He plopped down with a grunt, his pained eyes looking over to you.

"You shouldn't have gone out by yourself," he finally spoke after a moment of silence.

You struggled to pull your jacket off as you rolled your eyes at this, not in annoyance but in the pure fact that through all this pain, he was still more concerned about you.

"Eric, I'd do just about anything for you. Now shut up and let me help."

You could see a small smile grace his features at your sassiness. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

You grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom and got to work, cleaning every cut and gunshot out the best you could.

You grimaced every time you heard Eric let out a pained hiss. You hated that he hurt like this.

You continued patching him up into the early morning light, the sun finally peeking in through the window.

Eric laid there with his eyes closed as his cold hand rested on your arm gently.

"I love you," you spoke softly, putting away the remaining items into the kit.

You saw him smile and peek open his eyes at you.

"I love you too."

You slowly crawled into bed, being mindful of his injuries, as you snuggled up against his shoulder.

"Don't let that happen again," you murmured.

You could feel him begin to lightly chuckle beside you, causing a smile to grow on your lips.

"I'll do my best."

#slasher preference #slashers preference #slashers x reader #slashers #eric draven x reader #eric draven #the crow 1994

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spacedoutcowgirl · 7 months

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the miraculous ladybug online masterpost!

(long time in the making)

mlb online! where your favorite miraculous characters are all unhinged on the cesspool known as twitter dot com (i refuse to call it X thats stupid)

++ reposts are OKAY, just please link them back to my account or give me (spacedoutcowgirl on tumblr) credit for making them. please don’t claim these as your own.

accounts: the main squad, the villains + significant others, undercover(?) lesbians

part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 , part 6 , part 7 , part 8 , part 9 , part 10 ,

part 11 , part 12 , part 13 , part 14 , part 15 , part 16 , part 17 , part 18 , part 19, part 20 , part 21 , part 22 , part 23 , part 24, part 25

bonus posts: halloween episode

link to the fic: dancing once again

FAQ (pls pls pls read these before you send an ask!)

1. Who knows who’s identities?

→ Luka and Kagami know Marinette’s/Ladybug’s identity. If you’re wondering if Alya knows, thats up to you dear reader.

2. What are the character’s relationships?

→ sabrina & chloe: dating. on the rocks? on the low? definitely more than friends. i think?

→ rose & juleka: she was a punk. she did ballet. what more can i say?

→ amelie & nathalie: call amelie miss steal ya girlllllll

3. what app/program do you use for the tweets and where do you get your pictures?

→ i use twinote! it can be found on the app store (idk if on google app store too)

→ for the majority(!) of pictures, i mainly just use pinterest. now, for the ladyblog banner + edits, i make those myself. the banners of nathalie, adrien, and gabriel are also all made by me. thats why they match :)

#mlb online #mlb au #miraculous ladybug

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gabriel-xander · 7 months

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I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 1

[Scaramouche x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

Summary:

You hate working for the Fatui. You hate working for Scaramouche. And you just… hate Scaramouche.

He's two-faced, incorrigible, insensitive, and has an atrocious personality. Unlike yourself, he enjoys hurting others simply because he can. You know he only recruited you because he believes you have the potential to be a killer. You didn't join the Fatui because you wanted to, you joined because you needed the resources. You don't want to be turned into a weapon, but Scaramouch didn't care.

You really… really hate him.

{Also on Quotev, AO3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 1: Oh, Lore?

You smoothly fix your mask over your face when you cool off enough from the strong breeze. It was pretty stuffy in that Fatui mask despite the weather being colder than Tsaritsa's taint 24/7, you never liked wearing it. But you had no choice but to follow the regulation of keeping your uniform in check.

"[L/n]."

You look up from the report you were reading, your fellow agent was towering over you since you were sitting on a rock.

"What is it, Kazuki?" You mutter, closing the folder to hide whatever was inside.

It's not like you didn't trust Kazuki: he was the only one you could trust considering he was your best friend. But you two weren't in the same department, and you rather not expose him to the danger you had to deal with. He was special to you like that.

The pale man offers a ghost of a smile, "May I sit with you?"

You snort unattractively, "Sure, be my guest."

The rock wasn't even big enough for your ass, but maybe that was Kazuki's plan from the start. Scooting over so you're practically just sitting at the edge, the black haired agent carefully sits next to you on your conquered rock island.

You let out an undignified squeal as Kazuki's body manages to shove you off the rock. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls it against his body so you don't fall. You had to drop the report on the snow so you could steady yourself against the rock. Both you and Kazuki were laughing like morons, luckily that the other agents were inside where it protected them from the Snezhnaya weather.

"Moron," You chuckle, already feeling warm from where you and the other were flushed together, "What do you want? I don't have Mora."

Kazuki was a tall man, taller compared to the majority of people anyway. And since you're probably the one of the few people who's seen him without his Fatui mask, you can confidently say that Kazuki was, unfortunately, very attractive. His pale skin was close to perfect, minus the horizontal scar on his left cheek. His black hair was pushed back, at the front and center of his hair was pink.

His eyes were an extremely light shade of brown, almost giving it a gold hue. Though because of this, it made his tadpole pupils easily visible. This is where the pupils take an oval-like shape, though in Kazuki's case, they almost look sharp at the end.

His deep voice brings you out of your thoughts, "I don't want anything. I just wanted to check up on you since you're out here alone. I know you hate Snezhnaya weather so..."

"Aw, am I that special to you?" You tease, letting your guard down just a bit.

"Absolutely not. Go perish."

You groan, "Speaking of doing shit that seems shitty, how's it like working for Lord Tartaglia?"

The male agent sharply shakes his head. Clear message: change the subject.

"Well, if it's any consolation, Lord Scaramouche doesn't remember I exist," You add lamely, "I really think my recruitment was a mistake on his part."

Kazuki shakes his head, "I don't understand why you joined the Fatui to begin with. This is no place for someone like you."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"That you're too soft."

"Oh." That's pretty much true so you can't even say anything! "I didn't wanna get chosen by Lord Scaramouche, but apparently he thought I was most suited for his field since he commands the Skirmishers."

Kazuki raises a brow, "And how do you know that?"

"Well... Do you remember three months ago, the night of our personal recruitment's to the Harbingers?"

——

You wouldn't consider yourself talented in anything or skilled in areas that are remarkable. But you do pride yourself in being able to sweet talk your way into and out of situations, and your invisibility. Not that you're dIfFeReNt AnD qUiRkY and no one ever notices you, but you're an absolute fucking master at sneaking into places you do not belong in.

It's not often that Harbingers will recruit for direct subordinates, so when you (and Kazuki) were given the chance, you put on your best show in hopes of attracting the attention of a low ranking Harbinger.

That's right, you wanted to work for someone like Il Dottore. He's a researcher, and in your opinion, the most pacifistic department. You also heard he's not fond of Vision-wielders, so you thought he would've loved to have someone like you.

But no.

That's not what happened.

You knelled down in front of the door that led into Scaramouche's office, taking a long, thin, metallic tool from your pocket. You stuck the tool into the lock and began to twist and turn the device to pick at the door.

You're probably expecting some deep lore for the reason why you're a lock-picking master, but honestly you just learned it to impress your friends when you were a kid.

Anyway, you don't have a Vision, and honestly you're grateful for that. You've seen what happens to those who's Visions are taken away or destroyed. And if your own personal research has made you learn anything, you're not too eager about being granted into Celestia.

You openly displayed disgust when the recruitment reports. You, along with a handful of other brutish Fatui agents, were selected to be direct subordinates of the Balladeer: Scaramouche, Number Six of the Fatui Harbingers.

Not only that, he appointed you as his second in command simply because you're quiet (around him).

You bit your tongue from cheering out loud when a familiar click came from the door. You pulled the tool out and stuffed it back into your uniform. You quickly stood up and opened the door, slipping inside and quietly closing it behind yourself.

You sighed in relief when you didn't see anyone in the room. Perhaps it was extremely reckless to not check before entering, but that was just a flaw you needed to work on. Noticing the stack of folders on Scaramouche's plain desk, you quickly made your way to the other side of the room.

——

"YOU BR-" Kazuki quickly lowers his voice to a whisper, "You broke into Lord Scaramouche's office?!"

"Yeh."

"Holy fuck. How are you not dead?!"

"Let me finish."

——

Each folder was plain and unmarked, you had to open each one and skim for your name to find your folder. There were so many folders, and from what you gathered, three folders belonged to one person. One for their medical/physical information, one for their specialty, and if they wielded a vision or not, and the last one was personal information about the person's detailed background.

You weren't interested in anyone else other than yourself and Kazuki, and Scaramouche wouldn't have your friends' folder, so you only searched for your own.

Skimming through the first files for your name, then separating it three at a time, you begin searching more frantically when you start reaching the bottom and you've yet to see your report.

Maksim, Ivac, Andrei, Lena, [L/n- That's mine!

On the fucking bottom of the pile were your reports, no doubt Scaramouche did that on fucking purpose.

You organize the other folders neatly as they were before, leaving yours out to read it.

[Y/n] [L/n]

Female

[Height]

[Weight]

——

"Ugh," Kazuki scrunches his nose, "If I ever go missing, do not put my weight on the missing poster. I promise I won't come back."

——

[Eye Color]

[Hair Color]

Agent 241100

You shake your head and check your specialty folder. You don't think you can see how much the Fatui knows about your family, it might break you.

You skim through the folder to the last page where you see notes written in a different font and color. You're pretty sure this is Scaramouche's own notes on your person.

Wields no Vision, yet she is exceptionally more talented and stronger than the other incompetent agents who do wield Visions. She uses a Claymore, but is surprisingly fast with her attacks and just as powerful. I've heard she wants to be on a researching branch, or a collector, or something of the sorts. But that will be a waste of talent, which is why I recruited her before that idiot Childe could. The brat hesitates with harming the others during training, no doubt it will become a liability later on. But with enough exposure, she could become the perfect killer and wea-

"And what do you think you're doing?"

You slam the folder closed and spin around to face the door since your dumbass had your back towards the entrance.

You widen your eyes, just realizing that you forgotten your mask with Kazuki in the main room where other agents just fuck around.

You grin nervously, "I... Lord Tartaglia...!"

——

"HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD, [Y/N]?!" Kazuki shouts too close to your ear.

You frown and rub your ear against your shoulder, "Well, stop interrupting me, Nao, and I'll tell you!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

——

"What are you doing here?" Tartaglia crossed his arms, an expression mixed with a smile and a scold, "You are aware this is Scaramouche's office."

"Wh-uh, w-what are you doing here, hm? Lord Tartaglia?"

You messily shoved your folders under the pile since you were doing it behind your back. You're sure Tartaglia wasn't blind to it, considering he was fucking looking right at you.

"You must've picked the lock, the door wasn't all the way closed," Tartaglia amused you, "Now, explain yourself. I'd hate to have you executed for treason."

"Treason? Isn't that a bit uh-an overreaction?" You bit the inside of your cheek, "I-I just wanted to check why Lord Scaramouche chose me as his direct subordinate. I'm not a Skirmisher, and I did my best to make it perfectly clear that I wanted the most pacifistic branch..."

You turn your gaze to the side, silently referring to the folders behind you on the desk, "I have no other motives, I just wanted to know why the Archons have forsaken me."

You hear a soft puff of air from Tartaglia before the sound of footsteps. You keep your gaze down, knowing better than to look a Harbinger in the eyes.

"Does Scaramouche explain why he recruited you?" Tartaglia asked as he stopped by your side, nudging you to move so he could look at the files.

"Yes, sir. Well, I think so? Something about how he can turn me into a weapon and a killer if the fucker traumatizes me enough," You scoffed.

"Ha-ha! Is that so?"

"Oh!" Shit, you forgot who you were talking to, "I-I mean-I'm so sorry! I mean no disrespect towards Lord Scara-"

"-No, don't worry about it," Tartaglia said dismissively as he picked up your folder from the bottom, "He's certainly unpleasant, I'll give you that. Where are his notes?"

"Second folder, last page."

Tartaglia follows your instructions, grabbing the folder and opening it to the last page. You keep watch of the door, watching and listening for any intruders since Tartaglia didn't bother closing the door. You're sure he did it on purpose so if Scaramouche does come in, the blame would quickly fall on you.

Fucker.

"Interesting. You're a skilled fighter, [L/n]?" Tartaglia mused, "And you hid this fact from me? How rude."

"I'm not-" You felt your eyelid twitch, "-I don't like fighting. That's why I hope to be recruited by someone lame like Lord Dottore. Or even you, so I can just collect debts."

Tartaglia hummed quietly for a moment. You push yourself off the desk, stretching your arms above your head. You're actually preparing yourself to die right now. You disrespected not one, but two Harbingers in front of Tartaglia, got caught breaking into a superior's office, and you didn't even properly greet Tartaglia like you were supposed to.

You're honestly surprised to have lived so long anyway.

"Well, get out of here already," Tartaglia picks up your second folder to read it, not bothering to look at you, "If you leave now, you won't get caught."

You blink in surprise, "I... Lord Tartaglia-"

The ginger finally looks at you with a grin, though it doesn't reach his eyes. Later you learn that it never does.

"-Leave, before I throw the blame on you and say you picked the lock."

You bow deeply in gratitude, "Thank you, Lord Tarta-"

"-Childe."

"...Yes, thank you, Lord Childe."

——

Kazuki whistles loudly, "Wow..."

"Yep," You cling to Kazuki's arm as you pick up the report you have dropped, "And I guess he kept his word since I'm still alive and Lord Scaramouche hasn't said anything to me yet."

Kazuki suddenly stands up, causing you to fall off the rock and land in the cold snow.

"You fucker! You couldn't give me a warning?! This is why I have trust issues, Nao! You have any-"

"-Let's go inside, [Y-er, [L/n]," Kazuki's tone is suddenly more monotonous as he reaches his hand out, "I actually came out here to get you. Lord Scaramouche requested for you."

"You motherfucker."

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