#drew you have my heart but I'm so disappointed in you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ckret2 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch.

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live.

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him.

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

438 notes · View notes

lyneylover · 1 year

Text

Yandere! Lyney royalty Au♡

Synopsis: lyney is a street magician that you seen 3 weeks before your birthday. After your dad sees you mesmerized by his magic show he decides to buy lyney and his siblings to be your personal magicians. Little did your dad know that this would be the biggest mistake he ever made.

Word count: 569

So picture this!

Originally lyney was just a street performer with his twin sister and sometimes his little brother as well.

But that all changed as soon as you came to one of his magic shows.

You were amazed by his tricks and enjoyed watching them. Genuinely having a good time watching his show.

It wasn't everyday that the princess of the l/n family actually seemed extremely impressed by magicians. Many have tried but failed since you were always able to tell what illusion they used.

But there was something about lyney and his sister lynette's magic that made you hypnotized.

By the time the show was officially over you seemed disappointed.

Noticing your disappointment your dad has the brilliant idea to buy the 3 magicians for your upcoming birthday as a surprise.

After that magic show everything seemed so boring but 3 weeks later you got the biggest surprise of your life.

The day of your 18th birthday arrived.

Like any other birthday you had there were lots of gifts.

But something was different this time. This time your dad presented you with something you'd never expect.

There stood the three magicians.

Standing right in front of you was lyney, lynette, and freminet.

In that moment you were frozen and bubbling with excitement. You quickly ran over to your dad hugging him and thanking.

But little did you know that lyney was smitten by you.

The second he saw you at his magic show he felt you stole his heart away. The twinkle in your eyes when he made something disappear and reappear or how he drew the exact same card that a person showed the crowd.

Usually lyney wouldn't let anyone buy him and his siblings so when your dad asked him he was going to say no but then realized that the same man he was going to decline was your father.

Lyney uses this as a way to get closer to you knowing that he's only a mere magician and you're a princess. So he automatically yes not wanting to leave his siblings he told the king that he would only go if he bought all three of them for $100 a piece.

When lyney saw you he felt giddy inside. He was mesmerized by your beautiful features your pretty eyes, your soft looking hair, your plump lips everything about you made him blush.

This didn't go unnoticed by Lynette and freminet though.

After a month of being your personal magician he finally tells his siblings about his feelings for you hoping that they would help him with the master plan he thought up.

When Lynette and freminet finally agree lyney is ecstatic.

A week later they put Lyney's plan in motion.

At dinner lynette slips something in everyone's drink that'll make them tired.

When everyone is finally asleep lyney sneaks into your room covering your mouth before waiting for freminet to appear.

When freminet gets there they all quietly bring you to the escape carriage they had prepared earlier.

They all quickly run back inside to trash your room and their rooms to make it look like a kidnapping. With the money they had gotten from the king they took you far across fontaine where he would never find you.

The next day the king was furious. He thought someone kidnapped his magicians and his precious only daughter.

The king looked for them for months but not a trace of them was ever found.

Lyney could finally be with the love of his life.

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Sorry I haven't been posting I've had writers block but I'm finally back on track! And I'm currently completing my first hotaru haganezuka request but I thought I would post my little brainrot for you guys<3 Also should i post a part two with yan! personal detective Heizou looking for reader?

#akanes bakery #bakery #brainrot #yandere lyney #lyney #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin au #Akane's genshin royalty Au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere lyney x reader #genshin x reader

902 notes · View notes

hisui-dreamer · 1 year

Text

eyes on the sun

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: Malleus has been gifted beautiful flowers as a present, but it seems he's extremely upset by them. What could have happened?

Tags: miscommunication, flower languages, malleus is sad for a bit, fluff, crack, bot proofread

Word count: 1k+

Notes: im extremely obsessed with flower languages and so here's one of the fic ideas I have that involve different interpretations for flower languages haha

Masterlist

Malleus surveyed the bouquet of tall sunflowers in his hand, a mix of bewilderment and disappointment washing over him. Their large, golden petals stretched outward like rays of the sun, exuding a warm and vibrant energy that seemed to fill the room. The dark brown centre of the sunflowers contrasted sharply with the bright petals, creating a captivating focal point that drew Malleus's gaze.

You had gifted him these flowers, but instead of feeling joy, he felt a pang of sadness.

The flower language associated with sunflowers was "false riches." Did you really think of him as someone who sought material wealth? Did you truly think so lowly of him?

He looked at the sunflowers again, their vibrant yellow petals almost taunting him. Despite his attempts to brush it off, he couldn't help but feel hurt. He clutched the bouquet tightly, his mind racing with thoughts. Malleus let out a sigh and turned the bouquet in his hands with a pensive look.

"False riches," Malleus muttered to himself, his frustration evident in his voice. "Why would they give me sunflowers? Is this how they see me?"

He paced back and forth in his room, consumed by agitation. What had he done to make you think of him in such a way? Surely, he must have done something wrong, he couldn't fathom why you would choose sunflowers, of all flowers.

As he continued to brood, Malleus didn't notice your knock at the door before you entered the room, concern written on your face. "Tsunotarou," you called softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "What's wrong?" you asked, your heart aching at the sight of him in distress.

Startled by your touch, Malleus turned to you, his expression a tumultuous mix of surprise and sorrow. Emotions played across his features like a storm, his usually shimmering eyes lacking their usual ulster, and his lips slightly downturned, uncovering his inner turmoil. His furrowed eyebrows accentuated the lines of worry on his forehead, as if he carried a heavy burden.

He hesitated for a brief moment, his usually proud posture faltering as he let out a deep, heavy sigh. His voice was laced with confusion and sorrow as his shoulders slumped in defeat. "My dear Child of Man… I…I couldn't understand why you would choose to send me sunflowers," he admitted, his words coming out in a slow, hesitant manner. His usual eloquence seemed to falter, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath his confident facade.

"With their negative connotation, I thought I must have done something wrong for you to see me in such a light," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn't bear to fully voice his insecurities. Hurt tinged his tone, and his eyes searched for answers that eluded him.

"Negative connotation?" you replied, your brow furrowing in perplexity as you looked at Malleus. Weren’t sunflowers generally known to be cheery and bright? "What do you mean?" You asked, trying to decipher the reason behind his distress.

"Well... sunflowers represent false riches," he paused, crestfallen as he continued. "A long time ago, explorers had mistaken the flowers for real gold. Since then, it’s been used to mock delusions of grandeur."

Oh.

"Oh, Tsunotarou," you sighed, your voice brimming with tenderness, as you reached out to touch his hand. "I'm so sorry for the confusion. You see... back where I'm from, sunflowers mean something entirely different."

His eyes searched yours, curiosity flickering in their depths. "What? What do they mean then?" he asked eagerly.

"In the myths of my world," you began, "there was a story of a maiden who fell passionately in love with the sun god. She would gaze at him with unwavering adoration as he flew across the sky, and her heart belonged to him alone. In the end, she transformed into a sunflower, a symbol of her unyielding devotion. That's why sunflowers mean 'I only have eyes for you'."

Your words lingered in the air, laden with the weight of your emotions. You could discern the shock and wonder in Malleus' eyes as he absorbed your story. The parallel between the mythical girl and your own sentiments for him was not lost on him, and warmth suffused his chest at the thought of how deeply he meant to you. It was as though a veil had been lifted, and he now grasped the true significance behind the sunflowers you had bestowed upon him. His expression softened, and a loving smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I... I didn't know," he mumbled as he looked at you with renewed appreciation. "Thank you for sharing that with me. It appears I misunderstood the flower."

You shook your head, reaching up to caress his cheek gently. "It's okay," you reassured him, your touch conveying your sentiment. " Flower languages can differ in various regions, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings earlier."

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," he murmured, his voice laced with sincerity. "Thank you for clarifying, my love."

Your lips curved into a tender smile, and your heart swelled with happiness, a warm glow spreading through your chest. "You're welcome," you replied, your voice steeped with endearment as you stare into Malleus's eyes, captivated by their emerald brilliance. "Malleus, I only have eyes for you, and my love for you is unwavering."

A flicker of emotion passed across his features as his usually stoic demeanour seemed to melt away, showing the vulnerable side you cherished. "You are the only one for me, my dearest child of man," he whispered, his voice imbued with sincerity. The endearment he used for you was so uniquely Malleus, you could feel your heart skip a beat and your cheeks warm.

In that moment, surrounded by the gentle glow of affection and the unspoken words that hung in the air, you felt an unbreakable connection with the fae prince. It was as if your souls were intertwined, bound by a love that transcended words and language. The sunflowers that had initially caused confusion now symbolized the priceless bond between you, a testament to the unique language of love that transcends worlds.

Suffice it to say, sunflowers became Malleus’ favourite flowers.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus

1K notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 5 months

Text

Part 5: One Perfect Day

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7

Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)

(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff

Words: 7.5K

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!

March 2019

The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great.

For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers.

“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”

Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”

One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself.

As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing.

“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”

“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl.

“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”

Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have.

“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material.

“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”

Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”

“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?”

“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”

She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe.

“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”

“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish.

Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”

“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins.

“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s, “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”

***

It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.

“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe.

“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”

“You’re so fucking mean to me.”

“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”

“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”

Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”

“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi.

“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes.

“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”

“Paige.”

“Azziiiiii.”

“Paige I’m tired.”

“Pleeeeeaseeee.”

The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”

“YES-”

“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one.

“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”

Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance, “with that attitude, I should drop you.”

“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso. She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.

“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”

Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”

“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl.

When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi.

As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.

“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”

That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s.

“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling.

Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”

Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive.

“So it’s definitely UConn then?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it.

“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers.

“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms.

“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway.

Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”

“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”

“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”

“Yeah but-”

“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken.

“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”

Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”

“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more.

That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti.

***

April 2024

There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment.

Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since.

The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways.

The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship.

For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter.

Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then-

When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti.

Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s.

As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway.

“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.

Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her.

“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”

Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness.

***

“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”

Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind?

Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace.

“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up.

“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”

Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”

Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly.

“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face.

“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.

“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment.

“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”

“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”

“Paige-”

The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”

“I know- I’m sorr-”

“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”

They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-

Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own.

The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her.

“We can’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”

“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly.

“Paige please-”

“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”

Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”

“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”

“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”

Paige kisses her again.

***

The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.

She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q.

Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes.

The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team.

Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian.

Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance.

But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her.

“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words.

Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl.

“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow.

“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”

The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything.

“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”

“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend.

Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble.

“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”

Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth.

Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except-

“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock.

“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs.

“It’s the truth.”

“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”

“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her.

“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all.

“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out.

“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”

Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring.

“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game,

Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”

“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”

The other girls “ooh”, knowing Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face.

“Have you ever been in love?”

There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until-

“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”

“How many times?” Nika prods

“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”

“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t.

“Only once,” she answers.

“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her.

“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief.

Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”

Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear.

“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”

“Paige-”

“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly.

Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls.

“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates.

“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.

“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases.

“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family.

It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say.

They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead.

“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”

“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”

“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly.

“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”

Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”

“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray.

“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”

“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”

Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”

Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely.

“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”

Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth.

“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady.

Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.

She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her.

“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off.

“No. Go hug someone else.”

“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to.

“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”

Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”

“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”

“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”

“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately.

Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”

“What-”

“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”

“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”

Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”

“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”

She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”

“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”

They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship.

“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly.

“To what?”

“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”

Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”

Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together.

“Do you know what my answer would have been?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together.

***

Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed.

“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”

“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”

“Az-”

“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”

“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath.

“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”

“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle.

“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”

Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears.

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it.

Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”

And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

230 notes · View notes

logansargeantsbabymom · 2 months

Text

Please, I Need You

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Suicide, Mentions of cutting, attempted suicide

A/N: If you can relate to this fic or feel like this please message me, my DMs and Inbox are open.

The spotlight had always been something I avoided. I liked my privacy, cherished the simple moments with my friends and family, and drew strength from the quiet, familiar spaces that made me feel safe. But when I started dating Lando Norris, all of that changed.

Overnight, I went from being a nobody to having millions of eyes on me, every move scrutinized, every word dissected.

At first, it was overwhelming but manageable. The praise from Lando's fans was a wave of positivity that buoyed me up. They celebrated our relationship, showering me with love and admiration that I had never experienced before. But lurking beneath the surface were the negative comments, the hate from those who claimed to be Lando's true fans. Their words cut deep, exacerbating insecurities I had carried long before l met him.

"You don't deserve Lando."

"You're just using him for fame."

"Lando's mine, and he'll never love you."

Each comment was a dagger, but none hurt more than the one that dredged up my most painful memory: "Go kill yourself like your twin sister did. Lando's mine, and he'll never love you."

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt like I was drowning. My twin sister, Emily, had taken her own life years ago after relentless bullying. I had always blamed myself for not being able to save her. The pain of her loss was a wound that never fully healed, and now, this cruel comment tore it wide open.

I stumbled to the bathroom, my vision blurred by tears. Locking the door behind me, I collapsed onto blade in the cabinet and held it in my trembling hands. My heart pounded as I pressed the sharp edge against my wrist, closing my eyes against the onslaught of memories and emotions.

"Lando," | whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

In the living room, Lando was scrolling through his phone, a strange feeling of unease settling in his gut. He got up and walked towards the bathroom, knocking softly on the door. When there was no response, he pushed it open and froze.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of fear and desperation. "What are you doing? Please, put the razor down."

I looked up, my eyes filled with pain

and confusion. "Lando, I can't... I just can't do this anymore."

Lando took a step closer, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "Please, just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

As he inched closer, I lowered the razor slightly, the sharp edge still pressed against my skin. "I can't... I couldn't save her, Lando. My twin sister... she was bullied, and I couldn't save her."

Lando's face crumpled in anguish.

"Y/N, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Tears streamed down my face as I continued, "Someone found out and told me to kill myself like she did.

They said you'd never love me."

Lando's eyes filled with tears as he reached out to me. "Y/N, I love you more than anything. Those people aren't real fans. Real fans would be happy for us, not tearing you down."

My grip on the razor weakened, and I finally let it drop to the floor. Lando rushed forward, wrapping me in his arms. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together."

In the days that followed, Lando helped me find the professional help I desperately needed. He stayed by my side, offering constant love and support. But he knew he had to do more.

One evening, I watched as Lando went live on Instagram. His face was a mix of anger and heartbreak as he addressed his followers.

"I've always considered my fans to be part of my family," he began, his voice shaking. "But today, I'm disappointed and heartbroken.

Someone out there thought it was okay to tell my girlfriend to kill herself because of her past. That is not okay."

He paused, tears welling up in his eyes. "Y/N tried to take her life because of those hateful words.

She's getting the help she needs now, but I won't stand for this. If you truly care about me, you'll support her and stop the hate. To the person who made that disgusting comment, I will be taking legal action. No one should ever go through what Y/N has."

Lando's outpouring of emotion resonated with his fans, and messages of support flooded in for me. The community rallied around us, showing the love and kindness I so desperately needed.

But despite the outpouring of support, the darkness still lingered.

Nights were the hardest. I often woke up in a cold sweat, the haunting memories of Emily's last moments replaying in my mind. I remembered her smile, the way she would light up a room, and the sound of her laughter. I remembered the day I found her, the lifelessness in her eyes, and the crushing realization that I had lost her forever.

Lando never left my side during those sleepless nights. He held me close, whispering words of love and reassurance, his presence a constant reminder that I wasn't alone. He made sure I attended every therapy session, even if it meant rearranging his busy schedule. He was my rock, my anchor in the storm.

One particularly bad night, I found myself unable to breathe, the weight of my guilt suffocating me. I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face.

"Lando, I don't know if I can do this," I choked out. "I miss her so much. I should have saved her."

Lando knelt in front of me, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "Y/N, you can't blame yourself for what happened to Emily. You did everything you could. She wouldn't want you to carry this guilt."

"But I feel so lost without her," | whispered, my voice breaking.

Lando took my hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. "You're not alone, Y/

N. You have me, and you have so many people who love you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

Through the darkness, there were moments of light. Slowly, I began to heal, finding strength in Lando's unwavering support and the kindness of those around us. I learned to forgive myself, to let go of the guilt that had weighed me down for so long.

One day, as I sat in a quiet park, the sun warming my face, I realized that I could finally breathe again. The pain of losing Emily would never fully disappear, but I had found a way to live with it. I had found a way to honor her memory by choosing to live, by choosing to love and be loved.

And as Lando wrapped his arms around me, whispering words of love and reassurance, I knew that we would face whatever came our way, together.

---------

Again, if you feel this way, please reach out.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

101 notes · View notes

olsenmyolsen · 9 months

Text

This Is Me Trying - One - (A Y/N Parker Spider-Woman X Kate Bishop Story)

masterlist

Summary: The Winter semester is challenging as you fall behind on exams and essays all while an old threat emerges.

Word Count: 3.3K

Content: College stress, cutie Kate Bishop

You, Y/N Parker, loved Christmas time.

You loved how it changed the city from a smelly concrete jungle into a smelly concrete jungle but with snow!

Lights went up with trees covered in decorations. Lattes got better, and so did the cookies.

The air got colder, and sometimes the people got warmer. Whether it was buying things for strangers or for a lifelong friend. Random acts of kindness increased, but on the flip side, so did the rate of crime.

Plus, swinging in the cold was awful, but with some insulation in the suit, it helped.

All of this to say you still loved this time of the year.

"You know, since you love it so much, how about you let me go? You know, like you said, kindness of strangers and all that!"

You looked at the guy webbed to a pole who just mugged a woman coming home from work and tilted your head.

"You know what you're right. Tis the season!" The man nodded as you took a few steps closer. "However, on second thought!" The man's eyes widened before you webbed his mouth shut.

"Marv, how many times are we gonna do this, buddy?" You patted the man's head as the sirens were approaching.

"Happy Holidays!" You yelled as you swung up to the nearby rooftop, looking for the woman whose purse was in your hand.

As you stay perched on the corner, your phone starts to ring. It was Peter—your best friend and brother. You debated whether to answer it or not, but eventually, you gave in and pressed the side of your mask.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Not much... I know it's late, but I- I was just wondering if you started on Dr. Ohnn's paper yet? I'm completely lost. H-He knows we're sophomores, right?!"

You chuckled and sighed.

You haven't started on the paper yet.

"Sorry, Pete. I've been busy..." You heard Peter let out a disappointed sigh.

"Y/N... you're out, aren't you?" You felt bad. For the last couple of weeks, Peters has been asking you to take it easy with your after-school duties due to the number of exams these previous few weeks have had and, as mentioned before, the crime rate, but you haven't. If anything, you tacked on more. "Y/N, you know how dangerous I still think this is."

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Peter, I know, but-" Before you could finish, you saw a person jump from one rooftop to another two blocks down from you. "Hey Pete, I gotta go..."

"Wait Y/N... Y/N!"

The line went dead as you tapped the side of your mask and took off, swinging purse in hand to the stranger on the rooftop.

As you front-flipped from your webbed, you laughed. "Well, if it isn't the purple bird!" You said when you got up from your landing pose, scaring the crap out of the archer. He jumped and drew his bow on you before realizing who it was.

With an exaggerated groan, he withdrew his weapon.

"What do you want, Spider!?" He sounded annoyed. You put your hands over your heart. Purse still in hand. "Ouch! I just wanted to check up on the man who destroyed 30 Rock last year."

Clint Barton rolled his eyes.

"It was a tree and a skating rink. Get over it." You raised your hand and mocked the archer as you stepped onto the roof's ledge.

"Where's the youngster?" You asked switching topics. Clint raised an eyebrow. "What are you spying on me now?" You put your hands up. "As if! Just curious. Making conversation. It's not my fault you two happen to fall into my patrol area."

Clint looked at you. "Your patrol area?" You nodded. "It's called New York. Ever heard of it?" Clint rolled his eyes again. "You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that."

"I've been told."

"By friends?" You laughed. "No by enemies. Wait..? Why did you hear something?"

Clint cracked a smile. "Maybe." He hadn't, but he enjoyed this back-and-forth you two played. Like his protege, it was nice to have someone around who reminded him of the heroes of the past. People that brought hope for the future.

"So is that purse yours or?" Clint looked up from his binoculars at you. "No. It's not my color." When Clint didn't laugh, you continued. "Lady got mugged, and I don't know where to find her."

Clint looked from the purse to you and did it two more times. "What?" You asked when no words were spoken. Clint huffed. "You have her purse. It probably has her ID." You tilted your head before your eyes got wide. "Oh! Her address!"

Clint nodded yes and grumbled about you before looking into his binoculars again.

"Thanks, bird man!" You said as you looked at the address. It wasn't far. "Same time tomorrow?" You asked as you twhiped away.

Clint sent you a thumbs-up even though he wasn't paying attention. But you didn't know that. You saw a thumbs up and smiled.

You were getting through to the old man.

As you twhiped to the woman's place to return her purse, a bright-eyed Kate Bishop saw you.

"It's the Spider!" She very awkwardly whispered to no one else before running to the building; she had no idea you had just left from.

And when she got to the top: "Clint!" She shouted, making the archer jump before realizing who it was. "What!?" He said, looking at her as she smiled with excitement. "The spider! I just saw her!" He nodded like a dad would. "And?" He said. "And! And! And isn't that cool!" Clint shrugged. "I guess. She was here. She actually asked about you." Clint held in a smile.

It was a not-so-secret that Kate had a slight crush/admiration for the web-slinging hero.

"And!?" Kate took the binoculars from Clint and awaited his answer. "And... that was it. Nothing else. She joked around. I rolled my eyes. That was it."

Kate was going to press for my information, but Clint was useless when it came to details so mundane.

"Ugh. Fine. Here." Kate tried to hand the binoculars back, but Clint shook his head. "Look and tell me what you see." Kate looked through them and into the window of a known wheelman. "Tracksuits." She said, making Clint nod.

"See the guy with the awful chops?" Kate shifted her focus to a guy with bad facial hair. "Yeah."

"Look past him on the wall." Kate did just that and smiled. "I thought people only drew on blueprints in the movies?!"

"Our guys must watch a lot of movies," Clint said as he chuckled.

Kate put the binoculars down and looked at Clint. "After last year, do you still think Kingpin and these guys are connected? I mean..." Kate made a gesture that said, "really, these guys??" while pointing in the direction of the Tracksuits.

Clint shrugged. "I think it's best to believe they're connected than to not. Plus.. drugs and money still need to be run for guys like Kingpin. Any disposable person that's easy to pay is like Christmas to these guys."

Kate thought about it and nodded as she looked through the binoculars again. "Remember when we destroyed 30 rock."

Clint groans and closes his eyes. "It was a tree and an ice rink. Not the whole city!"

While Kate was busy trying to figure out what annoyed Clint and what Kingpin was planning next, you were busy climbing into your dorm through the window.

You tore your mask off as your feet landed on the floor. You ran your covered hand through your freshly shortened hair and took a deep breath before frowning. You sniffed the air before lifting your suit close to your nose. "Ah, man.."

The city really got to it tonight.

You tossed your mask into the hamper in your closet as you started wrangling out of your suit. You've been meaning to make adjustments to your suit since your arm muscle has only grown, but you hadn't, which left it a bit tight to get out of sometimes.

Lucky for you, you never had people drop by unannounced, so you could always take your time-

"Y/N is that you- OH MY GOD!"

You turned towards the voice of your brother as the top half of your suit fell, showing off you in your black sports bra and toned abdomen.

"Peter!" You yelled as he threw his hands over his eyes. "I didn't know. I'm sorry!" He shouted as he went to run out the door but hit your wall instead, causing him to fall to the floor, knocked out.

An hour later, as you moved your clothes from the wash to the dryer, Peter woke up. And after scolding him about not knocking, you and him got to work on Dr. Ohnn's paper.

But with your exhausted brain and body. Plus Peter's... mild concussion, you two didn't get far. So, just as you were about to suggest calling it for the night, your roommate came home.

Where she was or who she was with was always a mystery to you.

"Hey, losers!" Michelle-Jones, aka MJ, greeted you and Peter as she ran to grab the TV remote sitting on the table. She clicked it on and found the local news channel. "MJ, what are you-" She held up a finger and shushed your brother. "Look!" She pointed to the screen as a reporter was standing in front of a run-down apartment building that was on fire. "It's the fifth one this month!" MJ stated. "Everything thinks I'm crazy, but I know insurance fraud when I see it."

You and Peter weren't sure how to continue.

"Okay..." You started. "What's your point?" You questioned, hoping your roommate and friend was going somewhere with this. "Obviously, someone is doing something very illegal."

"Okay..." Peter said. "What can we do about it?"

"We can't do anything about it. But someone here can." MJ started motioning her head towards you, making you sigh. "MJ. I've told you multiple times. The pictures were a summer thing. I don't take their pictures anymore!" MJ rolled her eyes. Clearly not believing you. "Whatever you say..." She narrowed her eyes at you. "Spider!"

Before you could argue back, MJ got up and went to the fridge before taking a box of pizza to her room. "I'm gonna crash. Night."

"I brought that pizza..." Peter quietly said as you collapsed onto the couch. "You were gonna give it to her anyways." You turn your head to Peter. "Was not!" He defends, but you see through him. "You've had a crush on her for the last year, so please let's be honest here."

Peter closed his mouth and then said: "You're the one not being honest with her."

"Dude."

"Sorry," Peter mumbled. "It's just she's going to find out on her own if you don't tell her." He whispered. You nodded. "I know. I know. But you and I both know that the fewer people that know, the less I have to worry about. The less people get hurt."

Peter wore a sad smile on his face. "You're right. I.. I just hate lying to her."

You looked at Peter as he brought his knees close to his chest on the other end of the couch. "I'm sorry, Pete." He nodded. He knew it was easier for you to do this if the less people knew about your other life, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could lie to MJ.

The following morning, after Peter returned to his dorm, you woke up late.

Apparently, in your sleepy daze, you hit 730 into your calculator app and not your alarm clock application. On top of that, you forgot to charge your phone, so as you panicked to get ready for the day, you quickly put in the cable to charge.

You grabbed your closest pair of jeans and threw on your school sweater, all while grabbing the textbooks scattered on your desk.

You ran into the kitchen and grabbed your last pair of pop tarts before heading to the door and slipping on your vans. You zipped up your bag and bolted out the door.

However, you immediately reentered your dorm, ran into your room, snatching your glasses and phone, now on 16%.

The lecture hall was full by the time you entered. The booming of the door attracted the attention of everyone.

Your brother included. Your eyes found his, and he gave you a weak smile as you sat at the first seat you could find.

When you pulled out your textbook and looked up, you saw Dr. Connors sigh before he continued speaking. "As I was saying. Yes, just because the holidays are upon us doesn't mean we won't have our test on Friday. I want something fun to grade over the break, people." He gave an awkward chuckle that few students, including you, gave back. "Oh, and don't forget. Your papers on physics are still due by the end of the school year. If you've forgotten... well, there's a reason I'm tenured, and this class lasts all year." He smiled and proceeded to dismiss everybody.

Everybody but you.

"Y/N Parker. A moment."

You knew it was coming, but you kept your head up high. You look to Peter, and he nods. He'd see you after class.

"Dr. Connors, look, I'm sorry about being late-"

"Late?" He cut you off. "You missed the whole dang class." You sighed and adjusted the bag around your shoulder. "Look..." Dr. Connors started. "You're a bright student. I've seen it firsthand, but lately... it's like you're not even here. Your grades have been steadily declining. You always appear exhausted."

You nodded. "I'm trying. I wanna be here!"

"Then be here." He said before he sighed. "You still haven't told me what your physics paper is on."

You perked up at that. "I plan on doing it about fusion and Dr. Otto Octavius."

Dr. Connors sighs. "Well, planning is not a major at this university." He walks past you and goes to the giant board in the middle of the room. He then stops. "Octavius is a friend of mine. Better do your research, Parker." You nod. "I'd really hate to see you fail."

"I don't want to, sir." You say, making Connors look at you with a sad smile on his face. "I can pass along your information to Octavius. Whether he contacts you or not is up to him. After that..." He looks at you. "It's up to you, Parker."

When you exited the lecture hall, you found Peter talking to your mutual friend Ned. The closer you got, the more you saw Peter panic and tell Ned to "shut up."

"What's going on?" Peter shook his head as if nothing was wrong. You looked to Ned, who sheepishly looked away. "Ned." You drug his name out.

Ned took one look at you and broke. "I think I might know about the fires around the city!" He smiled and looked excited. It paid to have Ned be the guy in the chair.

You looked at Peter. "You didn't want him to tell me?" Peter sighed. "Y/N, you have so much going on already we don't need you." He gestures with his hand as if he was shooting a web. "Right now. Besides, you haven't even started on your essay, and you just got in trouble with Connors!"

Before you could defend your lack of action, you get interrupted.

"Hey guys!"

Immediately, your stress melted away as you looked down at Kate Bishop. Captain of the Archery Team. Your friend and study partner.

Oh, and your crush.

Katherine Elizabeth Bishop.

"Hey Kate!" You said a little too excitedly, something that everyone caught on to. Thankfully, they chose not to make a big deal out of it. "Hey, Y/N." She looked at you and smiled.

There goes the butterflies.

"So what are you three amigos talking about?" She bounced on her heels as she looked away from you and to the other two. "Oh, nothing!" Peter said. "I don't think you're allowed to say that?" Ned added with a confused face.

"Doesn't sound like nothing," Kate said, making Peter glance at you. "Sounds like Y/N is getting in trouble with Connors." She replied as she turned to you with a teasing smile. "Let me guess..." She made a thinking face. "Too busy studying for our History test?"

History test!! Oh crap, that is Friday!

"Okay, based on the look I just gained, you forgot." You nodded. Kate made a hmm noise but kept her head towards you as she thought.

"Shit," Ned spoke up. "Peter, we gotta go, or we'll be late!" Peter looked at his watch and came to the same conclusion. "Gotta go! See you, Y/N! Bye, Kate!" Peter and Ned took off running down the hall and out the doors before they sprinted across the courtyard.

"What class do they have?" Kate asked.

"Robotics."

"Sounds about right." She said. "We should probably get going." Kate smiled and gestured her head in the general direction of your History class with Kate. "Don't worry about the test," Kate said as you two walked side by side. "You always do just fine." You shrugged her compliment off.

Kate noticed. "But I was thinking if you want..." You looked at Kate and noticed her fingers interlocking with one another. "Maybe you could come to my dorm to study some more. Besides, I still need help on the laws and how they changed once the Sokovian Accords were ratified."

You and Kate had always hung out in mutual gatherings and settings. You two were good friends, but you had never been to her dorm.

On top of that. Alone.

You suddenly felt very warm and wary of your every move.

"That sounds great!" You managed to say. "When were you thinking?"

Kate thought. If it were up to her, you'd come over tonight, but Kate wasn't sure what her roommate Cassie was doing. Plus, she and Clint had a hot new lead to follow up on. "Ummm, is it cool if I text you?"

You nodded. "Sounds great." You smiled widely and pushed the door to your History class open. Letting Kate walk in first. You and Kate walked to your seats and sat beside one another.

"Shit." You heard Kate mumble when she opened her bag. "You okay?" You asked. "Uh yeah.." She bit her lip. A habit you noticed that she only got when she was embarrassed. "What's wrong?" You asked when you tore your eyes away from her chewed-on pink lips.

Kate sighed when her lips parted. "I forgot my textbook. I thought I packed after Clint- Clint-on Clinton and I got back from Archery, but I guess I didn't." Kate didn't look your way.

She was now warm and aware of every move she made.

"Hey, I surprisingly remembered mine." You pulled yours out. "We can share." You moved it in between the two of you. "Really?" She charmingly lifted her eyebrows. "Really." You said.

Kate let out a little cheer and wrapped an arm around you. "You're a lifesaver!"

If only she knew.

Kate didn't remove her arm from around you as quick as she usually would have; instead, you could feel her hand slide up your muscles to your shoulder.

Kate had been noticing your muscle growth as of late but didn't know where it came from...

Eventually, Kate removed her touch from you.

Yet you still felt her.

"It's no big deal." You said about sharing the textbook. But you and Kate both knew that based on your actions recently, you remembering to bring your book or not falling asleep in class was a miracle.

This was Kate's first time forgetting a book, and she could sense Clint's disappointed sigh.

Kate smiled as she watched your fingers turn the corners of the page in the textbook. Her eyes lifted to your fingers, to your sweater, and up to your face. She watched your side profile as you silently read a paragraph to yourself. She only stopped when you looked her way and hid a smile when you pushed up your glasses. "What's up?" You quietly asked.

"Do you want to come to my archery practice tomorrow?" Kate whispered back.

Kate wasn't sure what you had going on in your life. You and her were close but not close, like with Peter, Ned, and MJ. So she never pushed.

Plus, she liked you and didn't want to ruin what you two might have.

But when you said, "Yeah! That sounds awesome!" Like a dork, Kate smiled.

dividers by @/benkeibear

380 notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 1 year

Text

MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

*********************************

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

*********************************

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

*********************************

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

*********************************

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

742 notes · View notes

freakymcnastys · 1 month

Text

“lover you should’ve come over ” toge inumaki x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter"

content: the shibuya incident, talk of dying, death, blood, ANGST, short (abt like 900 words), you have a smoke related cursed technique, ur a 2nd year, aoi todo is ur older brother :D, fight scene sucks (sorry..),,,,

AS YOU WERE FIGHTING a bunch of low-grade 2 curses you felt a glint of something else in your smoke. This one wasn’t with the rest of the grade twos…this had to be a special grade at least..but once you figured it out, it was right behind you. The 'it' in question was none other than Sugaru Geto, this sent a chill down your spine. Something in your brain told you that you couldn’t possibly beat him; that you could maybe slow him down.

“Y/n!” Shit. You knew that voice, how could you not. If it had been any other mission you would've been happy seeing your brother but this mission would cost you your life and you didn’t want your brother to witness it. No matter how strong he or anyone says he is, Yuta could barely take Geto so the likelihood of this fight coming out in their favor was slim to none.

“I have a question, Geto.” You said into the smoke, knowing that your technique would carry your voice to the curse. He just hummed in response with a smile on his face. “Where’s Gojo?” You wanted to know if the so-called slim chance would come to help you mid-fight. This made Geto laugh a little. “In the prison realm, where he should be.” You just bitterly scoffed. “Well, at least I know you're not the real Geto.”

He just shrugged before getting into a fighting position. You then used your smoke to confine your opponent, making it morph into a solid in an attempt to harm him. But, unfortunately, he dodged it before it caused any real damage. The only damage done was a small cut. “Not bad, for a monkey.” He hummed before sending a curse towards you--two actually although you didn’t see the other one. “Seriously? Some low level curse-” You said, almost offended at his attack but before you could finish something shot through your middle causing a gasp to escape you.

“Yet not good enough..” He said disappointed. You couldn’t reply back because of the aching pain from the impalement, although soon enough you killed the curse, removing what was protruding in your abdomen. Muffled yells from the other side of your smoke became louder since it started disappearing considering your injury. You moved your hand in an attempt to stop the blood from escaping your body, but all you felt was the warm liquid pooling in your palm. “I’ll spare him–since I'm feeling so merciful.” Geto waved his hand as he walked off to find Itadori aka Sukana's vessel. Aoi’s heavy steps stopped behind you as he took in the sight. You knew that he would blame himself for the inevitable outcome of the fight. “Aoi?” Your voice cracked as tears drew from your eyes, unbeknownst to you. “Y/n listen I’m gonna get you to Shoko and she’s gonna fix you right up...okay?” The look the two of you shared said something else. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t make it to the street, but he didn't have the heart to say that.

Aoi still picked you up, the grip caused you to cry out in pain. He flinched at the sound before walking to the doors to the street. Continuous whimpers and cries came from you but Aoi wanted to try and get to Shoko as fast as he could. They reached the street and saw Inumaki and Panda fighting a bunch of curses, the two sensed a presence behind them, and turned around quickly. Both were ready to fight but stopped instantly at the sight of their friend being carried and Aoi covered with blood.

“Is that y/n..?” Panda asks in a whisper as Inumaki feels his heart drop. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You both were supposed to go on a date after you got back from this. You promised him. This wasn’t fair! Toge had tried to be fair and (mostly) kind to everyone so why was this happening to him? He had never asked for anything selfish in his life. So why him.

The full moon at night beamed onto y/n's corpse, making you look almost angelic. The crimson blood slowly started to dry up as your conciseness left a while ago. Aoi knew you'd been dead since your cries slowly faded but he refused to turn his head to check. He was scared to cause his little sister any more pain than she already was in.

Strangely enough, Toge remembered something that you had said to him some time ago, finding it weird to think about that memory at a time like this. You and him were sitting on the concrete stairs as Panda, Maki, Nobara and Megami were training for the exchange event. You were laughing at specifically Panda and Nobara, and you didn’t notice the lingering eyes of the cursed speech user next to you. The sheer admiration in his eyes could’ve made anyone swoon. Ever since you had transferred from the Kyoto sister school, he had taken a liking to you. Always walking with you, training, trying to communicate with you.

“Hey you okay–do I have something on my face…?” You asked with a light smile. “Bonito flakes” He nodded from side to side. “Oh good well um what’s up?” You asked curiously. “Salmon.” He just pointed to his ears swiftly. The two of you established some simple signs to communicate easily. “Sure I’ll talk!” You beamed before turning your body to the boy. Then you proceeded to talk about anything coming to your mind but one thing in specific Inumaki seemed to remember. “Ya know I feel like I know what dying would feel like–” You trailed off.

“Mustard leaf..” Toge loved hearing you talk but whenever you got to talking about these topics he got slightly worried. “No no it’s alright..” You laughed a little at his worry. Inumaki felt his heart skip a beat, call it cliche but something he would never hate listening to is your laughter.

“It's just something I’ve thought of–or rather what I hope it’d be like..” As you continued your thought he listened to you intently, although not liking what you were talking about but it wasn’t something you could help thinking about especially while being a jujutsu sorcerer. “I kinda hope it’s like when you fall asleep at a family party when you were younger and you get carried to your bed and you can hear the laughter in the next room…” You sighed with a small smile, feeling the wind pass the two of you. The sun turning sides of pink and orange meaning you guys should probably turn in for the night. Seeing you in this light made him want to freeze the picture and savor it forever, too scared of it slipping away.

Why was that the thing Toge had to remember while seeing your body. He hates to admit it but he hopes the same thing too–for your sake…and his own.

(putting it out there i LOVE angst so expect it from me 😏😏 also big brother todo>>>)

- love always, kat

#jjk x reader #jjk #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #angst #jjk angst #sorry guys

78 notes · View notes

aaronhotchswife · 10 months

Text

THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey X Female Reader

Chapter 2

Warnings : alcohol, panick attack, angst, want to give the reader a hug, smut, loss of virginity

If you missed chapter 1

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." - James Earl Jones

Y/N's point of view

I'm at Madelyn's, curled up on the couch with a hot tea in my hands. I don't want to go home, because I know that Drew will be there, with Odessa probably. I don't have the strength to see him. Even if at the same time, he is the only person I want to see.

I now know what heart break feels like and I now know that I have to teach my heart to accept disappointments, even from the people I love, even from him.

Madelyn is sitting next to me, playing with my hair. I respond to the worried texts of my friends, saying that I'm okay and that I'm sorry to have ruined their night. They are all understanding and tell me to have a great trip at my parents for the holidays, and to take time for myself. I respond to all of them except Drew. I just write him that I'm at Madelyn's and that I'll pass by tomorrow to get my suitcase for the holidays. I ignore his texts asking me what happened. I just answer him to have a great Christmas before turning off my phone and go to sleep.

Drew's point of view

I think I'm in love with Y/N since I saw her for the first time. When everyone got cast, we had dinner at the restaurant to get to know each other. I was sitting with the boys, talking about what we liked in life, when I saw her, making her way to the table. She was wearing a yellow summer dress with white converses. Her hair was tied up in a effortless ponytail, and I swear that in that moment, I saw the most beautiful girl in the world.

But I think that I truly fell in love with her 3 months after we met. We were walking in the city, and we saw a kid looking for his parents. Without hesitation, she made her way to him, kneeling at his height, asking him if he needed help. The kid was inconsolable so she sat with him, telling him stories and making him laugh until his parents found him again. In that moment, I knew. I knew that she could have broke my heart in a thousand pieces and I would've been grateful.

Since that day, three years ago, it always been the two of us, until tonight.

So when I arrive at Madelyn's apartment, I want nothing more than to have answers. I feel sick to think I could've put her in that state. I knock at her door, rubbing my hands in my face. When she opens the door, I can see how annoy she is at me.

"She's sleeping."

"Ok, then tell her I passed by and that I want to talk. Please," we're both surprised by my shaking voice. "What the hell happened out there ?"

"Maybe you should ask that to your friend Odessa, Drew. I know she is your friend, but you should've seen the state Y/N was. Getting humiliated like that in front of her friends, in front of you."

"In front of me?" I struggled to ask, my brows furrowed.

"Please Drew," she chuckled coldly. "As if she wanted you to know that she was a virgin. I'll let her know you passed by, but you need to let her some space, she has a lot on her mind right now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You should go, Drew, she'll talk to you when she's ready."

I leave her house, cursing to myself. When I go to bed that night, I can't stop thinking about her, about us, about how I lost something I never had.

Y/N's point of view

I leave Madelyn's apartment early this morning, figuring out that if I go to our apartment early enough, chances will be that Drew will still be asleep. I guessed right because when I unlock the door, I can hear him snoring lightly.

***

As I'm driving to my parents' house, I put my Christmas playlist on shuffle, question to get into the mood. As I get on the highway, the song Blue Christmas by The Lumineers starts playing. I feel like it's the first time in my life where I can really relate to this song. My mind starts to wonder, how will Drew's Christmas will be like. How will my Christmas be like. I can feel the tears burning my eyes as I try my best to stay concentrated on the road.

***

I'm sitting on the sofa; my parents and my brother are talking about something I can't decipher. I'm scrolling on my phone, through Instagram. My heart skips a beat when I see a picture that Mackayla posted. I look at the picture, where Drew all smiling, is photographed with his family. I read the caption as it says "Merry Christmas from our family to yours.'' I double tap on it, liking it, even if it feels as if my heart throws itself down the 18th floor to see him smile like that.

Drew's point of view

Christmas sucks this year. I try my best to act like everything is fine, to act as if she's not mad at me. But my mind keeps wandering and I keep asking myself why she acted like that. I mean, sure what Odessa did was not nice, but I keep asking myself what was the meaning behind Madelyn's words.

''Drew!'' Brooke's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, ''We're opening the gifts!''

I sit on the floor, watching my mom handing me a gift. I unwrap it, finding an air fryer under the paper. Before I can say anything, my mom almost screams, ''It's for you and Y/N! I know how you both love easy and quick cooking.''

I laugh slightly, trying to push away the thought that I miss her, that I love her, and that I hope that our friendship can pass through whatever happened that night.

Y/N ‘s point of view

As I come home 2 days later, I see Drew laying on his bed, reading a book. I feel my heart throbbing in my chest, and weirdly, for the first time, I don’t know how to act around him. A mix of thoughts is spinning around in my head, and I find myself wondering if I should apologize to him for how I acted at the bar. Madelyn told me how he went to her apartment to have answers and I can’t imagine how bad he must’ve felt.

He must have felt that I was standing in the doorframe of his room because he turned his head, looking at me with so much gentleness, as if he was afraid to break me just with his gaze.

''Hi.'' I say, making an effort to keep my voice steady.

''Hi.''

I make my way to him, laying next to him on the bed.

He clears his throat before speaking again, ''how was your Christmas?''

''T'was fun,'' I answer, my eyes focused on his bedroom's ceiling, ''what about yours?''

''Was great, my mom says hi,'' he smiles.

''We should talk,'' we say at the same time.

Drew chuckled softly, and for the first time since I'm laying next to him, I stop looking at the ceiling, looking at him instead.

''I feel like I owe you an apology for how I acted at the bar,'' I say, my voice not even louder than a whisper. But I know he heard me he interrupts me.

''No, I should apologize. I should've done something while you were having a panick attack. Does it happen often ?''

Drew's point of view

I look into her eyes as I ask my question. I can see her breath getting stuck in her chest.

''It's fine if you don't want to talk about it,'' I say, giving her an occasion of changing subject.

''No, it's ok,'' she answers, ''I used to happen a lot more when I was younger. I used to do them when there were a lot of people or noises. But the one a couple of days ago was the first in a long time. I thought I was getting better, I honestly did. But sometimes, I just lay in bed at 3 am, trying to figure out what is wrong with me and why I'm never enough.''

''I'm sorry,'' I say to her. I truly feel sorry for her, because I know that she can't see herself the way I see her. So strong, always there for the others, always happy. I'm cursing mentally to not have realized how she was doing.

''You don't have to be sorry Drew.''

My hand reaches for hers and my gaze goes from her eyes to her lips. I can see hers do the same. I just want to close that gap between our lips. But before I can do anything, she turns her head, excusing herself and leaving me alone in my room.

Taglist -

@willowalexissss

@abbybarnesstuff

@ethanthequeefqueen

@pet1t3

@drewstarkeysbae

@prentissesredtanktop

@jjmaybankisbae

@f4ll-for-you

#drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey fanfiction #Spotify

309 notes · View notes

mustainegf · 1 month

Note

Hiiii so can you maybe write about that the reader and james have been together for a while now but thay haven't had sex yet and whene thay are kissing and so james started to take of the readers pants but the reader is nervous because she has an outie and she is insecure about it but then whene james sees it he loves it and makes sure it's noting to be insecure about and then thay en up having slow sweet sex with maybe praising kink ?

THIS IS SO REAL more representation for our outie queens, it’s tough out here

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁶

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, half with excitement, half with nervousness, as I lay on his bed under the warm light from the bedside lamp. It was like setting up a really cozy scene between us. He was a gentle and loving man, yet I did know that James would be very patient with me, but I just could not shake off the anxiety in my stomach.

We had kissed, touched, and our bodies were getting hotter by the minute. Everywhere he touched, James's fingers lit my skin at contact. He was making me feel so desired, so wanted, yet I couldn't escape the nagging fear that had been with me for as long as I could remember.

My body tensed up the second his hands reached the waistband of my panties. Panic rattled me, and I drew back a little, my breath choking in my throat. James noticed immediately, he knitted his brows together in concern.

"Hey, what's wrong, love?" he asked softly, "Did I do something?

I shook my head, and my cheeks burned. "No, it's not you," I mumbled, unable to meet his gaze. "It's just that… I’m so scared."

James cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gingerly brushing away a tear that had escaped. "Scared of what, sweetheart? You can tell me."

I took a deep breath to summon the guts to explain. "It's just… I've always been insecure about… down there," I admitted. "I don't look like the girls in the magazines or… you know, what you might be used to. I'm afraid you'll think I'm ugly…"

James's expression relaxed, and he bent down to press a tender kiss on my forehead. "Hey, look at me," he said gently. Slowly, I did so. His eyes were so loving. "I think you're beautiful. Every part of you."

I bit my lip, and the knot in my stomach hadn't gone away. "But… it's different," I said, feeling awkward. "My… my um, it's… big, and not pretty. It's not what guys expect.”

James shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You know, I've never been one to care what people expect," he said, his tone reassuring. "I care about you, and I think every part of you is perfect just the way it is. Whatever you look like down there isn’t gonna change the fact I wanna have sex with you."

I had been ashamed of my body for so long, it was hard to believe that someone like him could find me beautiful. But James was patient, his hands never leaving mine as he waited for me to feel ready.

"Can I see?" he asked softly.

I hesitated for a moment before I started nodding slowly. "Okay," I breathed, as my heart thudded.

Carefully, he began to slide my panties down, not taking his eyes off mine. I felt the whole shake of my body at the fear of the moment.

As soon as my panties were finally off, James took a moment to look at me. His eyes were full of interest, not one hint of disgust or disappointment in them. He was looking at me as though he was seeing something precious, beautiful.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, still in love.

My eyes welled up again, this time with tears of relief. He bent and pressed soft light kisses along my inner thighs, so tender. So slow.

When his lips finally met my clit, I gasped. The sensation was like a little starburst between my legs. His tongue teased me, touching me delicately. He took his time in discovering every inch of me, determined to show his affection to every crevice.

"James," I moaned. "That feels… fuck.”

His shining eyes looked upward at me,thickly lustful. "I want you to feel good," he said softly. "You deserve to feel beautiful."

James kissed and licked me further, the touch made me shiver all over. His hands stroked across my hips, holding me lightly, as he used his mouth to feel around me.

As he pulled back at last, his lips glistening with my arousal, he looked at me tenderly. "You taste real fuckin’ good, babe," he said, snickering. "I could do this all night."

James took a deep kiss, his lips capturing mine. "You're beautiful," he murmured against my lips. "Inside and out."

He positioned himself over me and locked his eyes with mine, guiding himself to my entrance. He entered me so slowly that every sensation overwhelmed me in turn: the stretch and pleasure twisted together until I did feel like my breath wouldn’t return.

James moved very slowly, his thrusts gentle and controlled, allowing me time to feel his throbbing presence inside me.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice ripped from his lips in desire. "How’s that baby?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged him closer, “it’s so good, James…”

James's movements became quicker, and his thrusts deeper. I felt the heat gathering and pooling deep in my belly. He held me close, his kisses never stopping as he whispered.

"So fuckin’ perfect," he breathed against my ear. "You’re taking me sooo good… such a good job."

The formed words tingled down my spine as I could feel my body nearing orgasm. Lust began to build to a peak, and I cried out as the climax strikes over me, my body wracked with a tremor.

Shortly after, James pulled out, finishing himself off with a few pumps before he was spurting cum over my heaving stomach. James groaned very loudly out into the room, squeezing the last bit of seed to drip from him.

James rolled over beside me with a sigh, we lay together, naked and limbs knotted. He stroked my hair with gentle, soothing motions. "Thank you for trusting me, baby," he whispered.

72 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 10 months

Text

Lucien as a Mate

"Where is he keeping her"

"Tell me anyway. List all of them."

"I need to find her"

His own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

"I'm a mated male now"

"I'm going with you." "I'm getting my mate back"

"Tell me about her - about Elain."

"What of - Elain?"

From the devastation on his face, I knew he'd heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

"Is...is there anything I can get you?"

I'd never heard my friend's voice so soft. So tentative and concerned.

"There's a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?:

But he couldn't breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen."

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn's coat.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"She needs fresh air"

"Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two."

"It wasn't just about what he thought - it was the...feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And...sorrow. Longing."

"Let me do something. About Elain."

"I think she went through something terrible. And it wouldn't hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination."

"Please tell me, what the healer says. And if - if you need me for anything."

"I'm sorry." "It - it was a tug. On the bond."

"I'm sorry - if that unsettled you."

"There's a bond - it's a real thread."

"No - I didn't have time. I felt her, but..." A blush stained his cheeks.

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he'd never seen her before.

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. "I'm not needed here. I'll fight if you need me to, but..."

Lucien looked back. Not to me, I realized - to someone behind me. Pale and thin, Elain stood atop the stairs. Their gazes locked and held.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye - the longing and sadness."

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he'd run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little. "Are you hurt?"

"I heard - what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. All of you."

""I heard you made the killing blow."

"He was a good man, "he loved you all very much."

"It would be my pleasure."

Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain's side.

"How is she?"

"But is she still..." "Does she still mourn him?

"The pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

You know what I love about Lucien's character?

We know he's experienced. We know he's an Autumn Court male with fire in his blood which is supposed to make them exceptional in the bedroom. And we know he's drawn to Elain on a very physical level.

But instead of SJM taking him the same route as say, Cassian with Nesta ("He tried not to think of what that hand would feel like on other parts of him. Gripping him: stroking him"), SJM turns Lucien's POV of Elain into something utterly romantic (her eyes were the brown of the fawn's coat, she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen, trying to keep from shuddering when she merely says his name, showing restraint as he reels in any thoughts of touching her or tasting her). He's struggling with guilt over Jesminda yet he still can't help his poetic thoughts of Elain.

I think the physicality of Nessian's POV worked for them (though it's important to remember that Cassian also noted on multiple occasions that it was Nesta's cunning mind at work that really drew him in, not just the physical)

But Elucien to me will read as deeply passionate, where Lucien will refuse to admit his darkest desires, the things he wants to do to Elain and she to him until he's won her heart.

#lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien #pro lucien vanserra #elain and lucien #lucien and elain #elucien bond #acotar mates

201 notes · View notes

mika-no-sekai-blog · 4 months

Text

Word count: 2000

Warnings: none

Part XXII | Part XXIV

The first night sleeping alone in your cottage didn't turn out well. Horrors of your past reappeared and you had to again watch getting your mother killed. It was that kind of dream you couldn't wake up from even though you wanted to, and you probably made too much noise.

"Y/N," slightly hoarse, but soft voice called for you, cold and wet snout touching your face. "Y/N."

Even without opening your eyes, you knew who it was. Hot tears slid down your face, uncontrollable sobs the only sound breaking the silence of the night. The nightgown soaked in cold sweat, stuck uncomfortably to your body. You were trembling. One heavy paw touched your forearm, then gently embraced you. The snout sniffed your face and cheeks, licking your tears away with small cat-like licks.

You moved closer to him, hiding your face in the fur of his neck as you held onto him. He didn't speak, your name and a few short simple words were the only thing he managed to say so far. But under your cheek you heard the frantic beats of his heart. He was probably worried. Your throat was sore as if you screamed for a long time. You must have scared him.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed. He shook his head and made a small whimpering sound. Tamlin moved, carefully climbing into your bed. The old bed creaked under his weight. He was so huge that only a small space was left on mattress for you. You two had to huddle together to fit in, but you didn't mind. He tugged you closer, holding you with paws as best as he could in this form, you hugged his torso.

This helped, his closeness and warmth scared the fear away and eventually you calmed down enough to fall asleep again, lulled by the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat and deep breaths.

You opened your eyes and looked around the foggy rose garden. You knew this place, you already visited it once in your dream. Without hesitation you headed to the pedestal where you found Tamlin last time. This time it was empty. You wanted to call out his name, but your throat closed up and no voice came out. You tried it again with the same result.

You slowly twisted around, hoping to see him somewhere nearby, but instead your eyes landed on a sprawling tree with low branches. It definitely wasn't here last time. There was something you couldn't explain, that drew you to the tree and so you followed your instinct. The tree seemed to be very old, its trunk was covered with soft green moss. Sighing you ran fingers over it and a few drops of a dew rolled all the way down to your wrist.

"Why are you crying, Y/N?" Well-known voice came from somewhere behind the tree. You hurried there, expecting to find him sitting down between roots. What a disappointment when you didn't find anyone. Did he play a hide-and-seek with you?

"Why are you crying, my pretty rose?" A hand reached down from a branch above your head, his long fingers wiped a tear off from your cheek. Your gaze snapped up in surprise. There he was, half lying half sitting on the branch, looking down at you. Tamlin looked sad, his emerald eyes dimly shining in the shadow.

"You're awake," you breathed out. His face still reminded a cold stone of statue, but there was a hint of life in his eyes.

"Have somebody hurt you?" His mind seemed to be just as hazed like the last time, but at least he was awake now.

"No.. it's just.. a memory.."

"Memories," his glazed eyes were gazing to the distance straight through you. "I have a lot of painful ones. Like the day you left.."

"I've returned," you squeezed his hand lingering on your cheek. "Do you hear me? I'm here with you now."

"No one comes back to me.." his voice was deep and cold now. You wanted to object, but the dream faded away.

You woke up in embrace of strong arms holding you on a naked broad chest that gently brushed your cheek with every breath. You were still tired. Sleep was the only thing you craved now, luring you to the world of dreams once again. You closed your eyes, pressing into the warmth of the smooth skin.

Wait!

Your eyes snapped open wide, your hazy mind cleared.

Hands? Chest? Skin? Could it be?

You abruptly sat up. Tamlin groaned in his sleep, his face half hidden under the messy strands of blond hair. His hands reached for you, trying to pull you back down.

"No, Tamlin, wake up," you pushed against him, overexcited with the sudden improvement.

One emerald eye cracked open a bit, gazing up on you. With another groan his long form curled around you, naked as the day he was born. You gasped, your face, ears and even neck set ablaze. You tried to avoid looking down where you could feel his manhood pressed to your hip, the thin nightgown hardly a barrier between you.

"Tamlin," you stiffened. His name came out in a high pitched tone.

Finally, he woke up. As soon as he noticed the state of his body, he fled from the bed and taking the pillow with him, he pressed his back against the wall and the pillow to his intimate parts. He watched you startled, trying to find his voice.

"It's okay," you stuttered, looking everywhere but him. "I ..saw nothing."

He blinked and fought a smirk that threatened to spread on his face. "I know," he rasped. Even though he could speak again, it seemed to cause him problems.

"Do-does it hurt? I mean your throat," you asked. Meanwhile you took a spare blanket from small basket at the foot of the bed, offering it to him. He accepted it with a small smile. You turned to the window and looked out to give him privacy. It was cloudy and windy morning, although you didn't notice any of it. Your mind kept swirling around the expanse of smooth skin you just saw and quite impressive length you felt.

"A little bit." He touched your elbow. Carefully you looked back at him. The blanket was wrapped around his hips, too low and showing too much of his skin, but it was better than before.

"I'll brew you a tea that will make you feel better. When Lucien comes I'll ask him to find you some clothes, but until then this have to be enough."

"Thank you."

His eyes roamed over your body as if he saw you for the first time after a very long time. You felt too underdressed and too self aware under his piercing gaze. You crossed arms on your chest in a poor attempt to hide at least something.

You cleared your throat. "I-I think I should change," you choked out, nervously fidgeting.

However Tamlin didn't move a bit, his eyes still fixed on you. You swallowed hard, your heart rate increasing. He took the last step that separated you, and swept you into a tight embrace. Your lungs filled with a rain and earthen scent, the most comforting smell ever. Pressing his nose to the crook of your shoulder, he shakily inhaled.

"It's really you," he murmured. "I thought I just dreamed you out."

Your heart melted at those words and you hugged him back. "This isn't dream. I've returned."

He stilled. "How long can you stay?" he whispered, his voice dull.

"As long as I want," you laughed.

His body relaxed. "Thanks the Mother," he sighed. His embrace tightened so much you couldn't breathe.

You patted his shoulder. "Tam, I can't-.."

"I'm sorry." His grip little bit loosened. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

His fingers tangled in your hair, stroking them lightly. "I missed you," he rasped after a while.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I missed you, too," you whispered in a small voice. "So many things happened.."

"Did.. did he treat you well?" You knew who the he was.

"Well, yes. They all were kind to me. My brother especially." There was probably something in your voice that wasn't so convincing. You felt a small sting at your back as Tamlin's claws came out.

"Uhm, I apologise," his hands fell down from the small of your back, untangling from your hair and he stepped back hiding them behind his back. You stopped him, pulling on his wrists and entangled your fingers with his. It felt so right that you had to smile. He seemed to be confused.

"I hoped you would come to see me," you swallowed, smile disappearing.

"I-.. I couldn't," he looked down to his bare feet, ashamed.

"I know, so I came to you."

Tamlin kissed the back of your hand, pressing it to his cheek. "I dreamed about you often. So often that I sometimes couldn't tell the reality from dream," he admitted.

"I had a few vivid dreams, too. They helped me at times."

He frowned. "Helped?"

"Yes, I didn't remember a thing until recently. It was hard to adjust to so many strangers and unfamiliar house and everything at first. It got better when Rhys helped me with the memory loss."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. But before he could say something, the door downstairs opened and closed.

"Are you awake yet?" Lucien called. "I've brought some fresh bread for breakfast and even picked up some of those herbs you use in tea."

Tamlin gave you a tight smile that promised you would continue another time. You nodded.

"Give me a minute," you shouted. Tamlin left your room, so you could change. You thought he would go down to talk with Lucien, but when you opened the door, he stood there waiting for you.

You found Lucien seated at table, swaying on the back legs of chair, hands behind his neck.

He turned to you with fox-like grin, some teasing remarks already on the tip of his tongue. When he saw frowning Tamlin with hands crossed on his bare chest standing behind you, his eyes widened. He lost balance and fell down, hitting his back and head hard enough to see stars.

When he was getting off the ground grunting, you started to laugh, immediately followed by Tamlin's deeper laughter. Lucien muttered something about naked beasts, gentlemen and ladies and winnowed away. In few minutes he returned with arms full of clothes. While Tamlin dressed in your room you prepared breakfast. Lucien, of course, helped you.

"How did you do that?" he muttered with undeniable interest.

You shrugged. "I did nothing. When I woke up in the morning, he was already.. back."

"I knew that you could help him, but I've never even imagined that he could improve so fast. He was.. completely gone. At this rate I think soon I'll be able to return to my friends. They already miss me, you know."

You wished you could say something, but there was nothing. You've grown fond of him these past few weeks. He was easy going person, chatty, funny at times, it was hard not to like him. But he had his own life to live. You knew he wouldn't stay forever.

"What is that face for," he teased you. "Already miss me?"

You rolled your eyes and grinned.

Fortunately, Tamlin was back and could speak again. You wouldn't stay alone with nothing to do and haunted by your past.

A single thought of your High Lord and the sight you got that morning made your pulse quicken and cheeks flush. When he returned dressed in simple green trousers and white shirt you almost spilled the tea you were setting on the table. You wondered what had changed. Why your body started to react to him like this so suddenly.

Unable to come with any explanation, you seated down and stuffed your mouth with bread that Lucien brought. The three of you ate in unusual silence.

Taglist: @impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania

#english isnt my first language #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #acotar #acotar x reader #sarah j maas #acosf

99 notes · View notes

cillianmesoftlyyy · 9 months

Text

At the Cabaret Pt. 1 | Tommy Shelby x fem!character

Summary: Lenore is a dancer at the Birmingham Cabaret when she's approached by an estranged neighbor and notorious gangster, Tommy Shelby, with a business prospect. Seeing him again brings up old feelings and new conflicts that they must navigate in the topsy turvy world of Cabaret.

Warnings: Heavy misogyny (1920s Cabaret... I mean), mentions of sexual assault, and objectification. Please don't read if these topics are upsetting to you- I'm writing from a historical perspective and some of the elements I write about are disturbing. Take care while reading. This story only gets worse from here lol. I use a few modern songs in the story but imagine them in a 1920s style (aka Post Modern Jukebox). I really recommend listening to the songs I have listed below because I reference them in the story.

word count: 4125k

Come with me- Preservation Hall Jazz Band 🎶

Ain't That a Grand and Glorious Feeling? - Annette Hanshaw 🎵

Last Nite- The Strokes 🎶

PDA- Interpol 🎵

Not proofed- my b folks!

She felt powerful when she stepped on stage. She felt untouchable. She performed five days a week at Birmingham’s Cabaret Club during the late night slot when the wealthiest clientele slipped in through the backdoor to huddle around the stage. She was lucky that her life had ended up like this and not working the streets like so many girls she knew had to after the war years. She tried to get them jobs in the Cabaret but their addictions to uppers and downers and strong cocktails made it hard for them to follow the routine of Cabaret. It required discipline to arrive at the club everyday at three in the afternoon and work new routines until the doors opened at eight, and they worked hard. She wasn’t an especially good dancer but her energy and confidence on stage won her the best slot of the night and the notoriety that nicknamed her “Lady Lenore.”

Her shows were sensual, sure, but mainly they were performances. She sang and sparkled onstage with her elaborate costumes. And sure, men often followed her backstage, seeking an encore in not so polite terms but she was the master of her own image. She was allowed to say no when she wanted to because she was “Lady Lenore.” She wasn’t a stranger to male guests coming by to visit her at night and many times, she allowed them to join her in her dressing room shared with the other performers, offering him whisky and resting her feathered head against his chest. But these were the boys she recognized from the factories her father had worked in, that her brothers had worked in before the war. She flirted with the rich cats who came by to seduce her but only the boys with coal grease still stuck in the curves of their muscles made it farther into the reaches of her corseted costume. She had a preference and she didn’t care who knew it.

What won her fame, besides her voice, were her costumes. The early twenties offered an exciting new spread of style that she latched onto like Vicodin. She loved red, so she dyed most of her costumes a deep scarlet with millions of beads sewn onto the surface. She pulled on the red bodysuit, fixing the ropes of red beads draped around her shoulders and bare thighs. She didn’t have large breasts so the front stuck tightly to her chest but elegant bodice distracted disappointed eyes. Her blonde hair was bobbed around her heart-shaped face. Lucy, one of her friends, secured the devil cap on her head, the strap going beneath her chin. The horns were stuffed with couch stuffing to stand up straight. She under-drew her lips, creating a heart with red lipstick. The rest of her makeup was minimal, making the lipstick stand out. She buckled her nude-colored dancing heels across the top of her foot and shook out her arms nervously.

She could hear the announcer out on stage with his squeaky voice. She pulled on her red satin gloves and made her way slowly to the curtains offstage waiting for her cue. Johnny the club manager squealed, “and now, the girl you’ve been waiting for, the queen of our hearts and the sweetheart of Birmingham, Lady Lenore!” He ran off stage and a spot opened against the curtain.

She lifted her lips into an innocent smile and stuck her arm out through the slit in the red velvet curtain. She trailed her finger down the fabric, teasing the slit beneath the hot spotlight. The audience cheered loudly, feet stomping on the bar floor.

“Aw come on out, darlin!” A man hollered from the audience and she laughed quietly behind the heavy fabric. Whistles followed his brave shout and she shook her finger naughtily at them, still obscured by the curtain.

“Now, now boys. That’s no way to ask a lady. I was gonna be real nice to you tonight, and I mean real nice.” The men whistled again and slammed their hands on the drinking tables.

“Please, honey!”

“Come on, love!”

She slipped her arms back behind the curtain and giggled.

“Oh, boys! You really do know how to make a girl feel so good!” She squealed, “open the curtain, Johnny!”

The curtain swung open on its tracks and she placed her hands on her accented hips. Her bare thighs warmed under the hot spot. She switched into her Lady Lenore facade, apologizing raspily, “sorry about that boys, I was a bit nervous.”

Men howled in the audience and stood to whistle. She put a dramatic finger to her lips, biting it gently.

“Gee, thanks. Now let me show you what I can really do.” She chuckled darkly and nodded to the band beside the stage. “Hit it, honey.” She called with a smile. A ragtime track began and she twirled, pulling the hair from her shoulders to show off the back of the costume, her butt just peeking out beneath the underwear-like bodice. She strutted across the stage with a flick of her leg, turning into a jumpy great-vine, tap dancing without the loud clacks. She reached out her gloved hand to the audience and gasped when the music jumped, smirking as she took quick steps backwards. She did the same to the otherside, each action dominated by the sexual squeal of the trumpet. She took slow steps downstage to the drum beat and lowered herself slowly to her knees, playing with her long strand of pearls.

“I just feel so good tonight,” she bit her lip and shook her shoulders and lay back, still on her knees, her sparkly crotch exposed to the roar of the crowd. When a man wolf-whistled she sat back up quickly, an innocent smile pulling at her painted lips. “Oops!” She giggled and crawled forward on her hands and knees. She reached the end of the stage and swung her legs over gracefully. She went over to the fat cat at the first table and stroked his long white beard.

“Say, you look like a good boy,” She purred and sat abruptly on his lap, “now what do you want for Christmas? Or more importantly what do I want?” She pouted out her lip, thinking. The men in the audience laughed.

“Anything you’d like sweetheart.” The man chuckled and she smiled.

“Ohh, Daddy! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear! But say, aren’t you gonna ask me if I’ve been a good girl?”

“Well, have you?”

“Hmm, one second, Daddy,” She stood up from his lap and cleared her throat loudly. “Do you boys think I've been a good girl?” She asked the room and smiled when she received stomps and applause. “And do you think I should get anything I want?” She added, biting her lip.

“You’re all I want, love!” One man yelled from the bar and she clutched her heart.

“That’s the right answer, boy!” She called back and laughed, returning to the lit stage. A microphone had been set up centerstage while she was in the audience. She shimmied up to the microphone.

“Y’all ever been to New Orleans?” She quipped in her best southern accent and winked at the band who burst into, “Come with Me.”

A line of feathered dancers came out onto stage, flirting with the audience with their scandalous dance fan dance.

Come with me to New Orleans

I'll show you a great time

All your dreams will come true

A' With me by your side

Her raspy voice echoed out into the small club. She scanned the crowd, her fingers cupping the wide microphone. The men in the crowd smoked cigarettes and cigars, separating them by class and income. The day-laborers sat with crushed cigarettes in ashtrays while the fat cats still smoked the same cigar they had light when the night began.

Come with me to the' New Orleans

I'll show you a great time

All your dreams will come true

A' With me by your side

She smiled as she sang, looking down at the audience through her eyelashes. She adjusted her red velvet garter, her fingers trailing up the fabric on her crotch to her stomach. The dancers behind her dipped their fans to show their cleavage.

Come with me to New Orleans

I'll show you a great time

All your dreams will come true

A' With me by your side

She finished the song with a low voice and the audience roared once again. She took an extra fan from one of the dancers and held it in front of her body. With the large fan, she did look naked, tricking those who were drunk in the audience to believe she was nude like a game of peek-a-boo. “Ain't that Grand and Glorious” marked the beginning of a new musical number and she started singing, traveling to either end of the stage. She moved her fan to her back like a peacock, pushing what cleavage she did have forward with her arms.

Now is there any one present

Who was ever in love

If it’s so you know how

I’m feeling right now

Everything is so pleasant

She broke out into a brief timestep combination and moved the fan to her chest, just showing her legs and face.

You’re so full of bliss

You just feel like knocking wood

She planted and shook her hips to the knocking noise.

And when you naturally say yes

Ain’t that a grand and glorious feeling!

She spun around and planted the fan on the top of her butt, bending over to show off her ass to the audience who cheered. She spun again and did a quick Cincinnati step during the instrumental break.

I’ve got something to say

When that band starts to play

She raised the fan above her head, showing off her costume once again, as everyone in the room sang the last line with her:

I get a grand and glorious feeling

“That’s all!” She smiled and the spot went out. She hurried off-stage with the others and ducked into her dressing room, returning hugs and hollow laughs with the other girls.

“You were wonderful, Nore!” A dancer hugged her around her stiff waist and she let out a repressed breath.

“Thank you, thank you. Gee, I’m happy it's over with. Father Christmas in the front row got a little too excited if you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes and the girls laughed. Clara patted her on the back and slipped through the dressing room door to go on with the following act.

“Break a leg, Clara babes!” She teased warmly and she tittered her thanks. They could hear the crowd grow impatient as they waited for the next round of entertainment. She sat down at her place at the makeup counter and removed the horned cap from her head. Lucy slipped into the dressing room, closing it quietly behind her so the sound wouldn’t carry onstage.

“Nore, great job as always.” She sat beside her and intertwined her fingers with Nore’s. The dancers switched their tops and bottoms, each barely covering anything of their anatomy.

“Thanks, Luce.” She wiggled in her seat and slid the large rings off her fingers and put them in her pink jewelry box.

“Johnny wanted me to tell you that there’s a fella in the audience that wants to see you.” Lucy grimaced.

“I have another show tonight, I can’t.” She sighed and fixed her lipstick.

“He said it’s important.”

“He always says that.” She laughed curtly.

“Sure but I think he means it this time, Nore. I would do it.”

“Why? Is it a cat?” She raised her eyebrow at Lucy and frowned, “He is isn’t he?”

“It's Thomas Shelby, Nore.” She whispered close to Nore’s ear and sat back again, biting her lip anxiously.

Her heart fell into her stomach and she looked at Lucy through the mirror for a moment. She cleared her throat and looked down at her red gloves.

“So? He doesn’t own me,” She tried to sound brave.

“No, but he owns half of Birmingham.” Lucy retorted and started again, “and besides, he used to be a factory boy, you remember don’t you? He used to live on our street!”

“That was before the war, Lucy. He’s changed since then. We all have.”

“Wasn’t your brother friends with Thommy?” She asked carefully, not wanting open old wounds.

“Like I said, Luce, we’ve all changed. I haven’t spoken to her in ages. The war was hard on everyone, even the Shelbys.” She sighed. Lucy looked down at her naked thighs pressed against the chair and took in a deep breath.

“You’ll do it though, won’t you?”

“If I don’t have a choice…” She shrugged and stared at herself in the mirror, “then I guess I will. Help me out of this corset, won’t you please?” She stood and Lucy undid the tough clasps on the back that insured the piece wouldn’t fly open during the act, no matter how many hands probed it. She shrugged the top off, her breasts sitting back against her chest. She put on the white satin bra and short set laid out for her second performance. She rolled on her stockings and clipped them into her garters to keep them from falling down. Lucy fastened a tulle train onto the back of her shorts and fixed the edges. She buckled her heels and fit the glitzy headband around her forehead. Someone switched her pearls for a necklace with small gold stars, and her red gloves for blush pink. She brushed a little kohl behind her eyes and sprayed herself with perfume, sticky and sweet.

Her second number was more choreographed and started like this:

She and the dancers entered with chairs. The chairs were arranged with her on center stage. The audience applauded and whooped and the girls smiled as brightly as they could beneath the white hot spot. “Last Nite” strikes up with the jumpy stutter of piano. It was a straight-forward dance. The hardest part was singing as she moved, bicycle-kicking her legs above her head in the chair. She abandoned the chair half-way through the song and scat at the microphone, accompanied by the instrumental riff.

They don’t understand

No, girlfriends, they won’t understand

A cheer went up from the crowd, beer spilling from raised glasses.

Last night he said

“Oh, baby, I feel so down”

“And it’s turnin’ me off when I feel left out”

So I, turned around

She turned slowly, kicking the tulle train back out as she did with her heel. Her arms were raised above her head, smiling wide.

“Oh darling no care no more

I know this for sure, I’m walking out, I’m walking out that door

And ain’t gonna understand

She winked and blew kisses to the growing crowd in the audience. She scanned the faces at the tables for Peaky Blinders. Then she saw the tell-tale peaky cap pulled down over his face. She couldn’t see his face in the darkened house but the way his table was separated from the rest in the club, and completely empty save the man sitting there with Irish Whisky told her enough. The crowd’s applause came to an end and she snapped back into character, curseying and raising her hand to the band.

“Thank you!” She twirled once more to show off her ensemble and curled her finger at Johnny who was still standing off stage.

“Oh, Johnny!” She called him out on stage and when he waddled over she put her chin on his shoulder, “Get these wonderful men a drink huh?” She smiled innocently. The crowd exploded with hoots and hollers. “That’s for making me meet with Shelby without asking me first, Johnny.” She growled beneath her breath and smiled at the crowd, “sweet dreams, boys!” The men waved from the audience and the girls scurried off stage.

She was too distracted to speak to anyone right after the show. She went straight to the dressing room and removed the tulle train from her shorts, grimacing as she did though it caused her no pain. Tommy was too smart to fall for her Lady Lenore act and she silently cursed herself for making the character such a staple of her success. He would be able to see through her confidence to her fear wallowing in her eyes. Some of the girls helped her quickly slip into a blush pink dress, the drop waist brushing against her hips. She changed into her normal heels, shiny black mary janes, and pulled off her headband. She left the star necklace around her neck but removed the gloves and extra jewelry. Lucy wiped off her bright red lipstick, changing it for a more casual color. One of the younger girls, Lily, ran in and called for her.

“Nore, Johnny said to take the spare dressing room.”

“Got it, thanks.” She nodded and exhaled loudly, pushing air through her nose. “He has everything fucking planned out,” she cursed below her breath. “Is he going to undress me for him too?” She grumbled and wiped kohl fallout from beneath her eyes.

“He may not want that.” Lucy offered.

“That’s what men always want, Luce.” She responded and sighed. With one last smile, she opened the door into an adjoining room called the spare dressing room. It was called that but it had never been one. There was a bed against the back wall with wood bed-frame and carved posts. The bed was dressed with clean sheets everyday and draped with a heavy red quilt to keep out the December cold. This was the nicest room out of the lot and it was reserved for our best clientele. A table and chairs separated the bed from the main door to the hallway. A bar cart sat idly against the side wall, stocked with cheap liqueur and towels. On the opposite side was a lounge in dark red fabric to hide stains. The wood floors were cold without the heaters and she could feel the chill even through her heels. She perched herself on the arm of the lounge and settled, waiting for Tommy Shelby to arrive.

He didn’t know when he came in, he wasn’t worried if he happened to walk in on anyone, and he just didn’t care. He avoided her eyes as he stepped into the room and closed the door, loud voices carried down the hallway like the smell of cigarette smoke. When the door was firmly closed behind him, he finally caught her eyes.

“Hello Mr. Shelby.” She didn’t move to stand.

“Miss Panning,” he gave her a curt nod, “or shall I call you Lady Lenore?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Miss Panning unless you’d prefer to call me Lady Lenore.”

“Well Miss Panning,” he walked to the table and lit a cigarette, dropping the lighter and cigarette case on the table, “I’m sorry for disturbing your evening.” He gestured loosely to the direction of the stage, talking around the cigarette.

She sighed and stood, taking a cigarette that Tommy offered out to her. She held the cigarette between her lips as he flicked open the lighter and the cigarette caught. “Did you like my performance, Mr. Shelby.” She smiled, blowing out the smoke. He looked down at his shoes and exhaled a cloud of heavy gray smoke, his hands in his pockets. When he looked up his smile was pained, his brows furrowed.

“Eh, not really my thing.”

“Mmm of course. From what I’ve heard you like it quick and dirty. You’re not one for a performance, are you?” She teased darkly and moved to the bed, sitting at the end. He watched her, his eyes calm and unfazed. She flicked the ash of her cigarette to the floor and crossed her legs, the slit in her dress showing her thigh. He stared at her thigh, puffing on his cigarette.

“What do you want, Mr. Shelby?” She asked him bravely. He tore his eyes from her exposed leg and looked into her eyes. Exhaling and pulling the cigarette from his lips he rubbed his thumb across his thick lips.

“I want us to be friends, Nore.” He said finally, his voice restrained, holding back a layer of information he wouldn’t easily give up.

“I’m Nore now?” She almost sneered.

“We were neighbors once if you remember.”

“Those days are far behind us now, Mr. Shelby.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at the ground.

“Tommy.” He inclined his head slightly and stubbed out his cigarette. “And maybe they are but that doesn’t mean we can’t become friends again now, does it?

He’d said something like that years before when she was fifteen, he was seventeen, and best friends with her brother. Her brother told him that she had a huge crush on him and he’d treated her kindly, offering to be her friend, though nothing more. Hearing him now brought her back to that moment in the alley between their houses, ducking beneath the laundry lines. He’d told her that maybe when she was older… but he went to war and never came back the same. He hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to her since, plagued by guilt. She’d lost her brother in the war.

“Why do you want to be friends, Tommy?” She asked slowly, fighting the images of her brother that entered her mind when she looked at him.

He lit another cigarette and pulled it from his lips.

“I think we can help each other.”

“Oh?” She switched legs, letting the fabric slide slowly over her skin. He watched, his jaw clenched, in what she read as distaste.

“I need someone who’s willing to be my eyes and ears inside this club. I know Billy Kimber and his men meet here.”

“Does this job require more than ‘eyes’ and ‘ears,’ Tommy?” She looked down at her cigarette.

“It would require anything that gets them comfortable to talk to you, you can fill in the rest.” He looked over at the whiskey. “Whisky?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, please.”

He took two thick crystal glasses from the cart and poured. He rounded the table to hand her a glass and she took it, looking up into his blue eyes. He took a deep drink from the whiskey and sighed. She drank and swirled the caramel liquor around in the glass.

“You know, Tommy, I don’t sleep with all of my clientele. Believe it or not but I prefer working boys over men like Kimber. I’m still a Small Heath girl, Tommy. That’ll never change, no matter how many rich men come in here promising me globs money in return for a quick fuck.”

He looked down at his shoes and nodded, thinking. He downed the rest of the whisky and cleared his throat.

“Will you do it?” He asked.

“What do I get in return?” She sighed.

“Money and protection, of course.” He put his glass on the table and leaned against it, sucking on his cigarette.

“Anything else?” She smiled softly.

He looked at her, expressionless, trying to determine what she wanted from him.

“What else would you like, Lenore?” He asked softly.

She swallowed the rest of her whiskey and smiled sweetly at him, taking from her character.

“Well, if we’re really to be friends, I want you to come to my shows.” She stood and reached around his waist to the ashtray and stubbed out her cigarette, looking directly in his eyes.

“And besides,” she continued softly, “men like nothing more than competition. If Kimber learns that you fancy me, he’ll do whatever he can to get with me.”

She took a step back and took a second cigarette from Tommy’s breast pocket. He lit it for her without a word.

“Alright,” he nodded, his face unchanging, “anything else?”

Her eyes softened and she fought back weak tears.

“Look after my father, Tommy. Make sure he’s safe too. If not for this, for James.” The mention of her brother stilled something in him. He nodded and cleared his throat. He turned and walked to the door to the hallway.

“Tommy,” she called from the bed. He paused with his hand resting on the door handle, “you know he’s going to kill me before they tell me anything you want to hear.” She said softly, almost sadly.

He said nothing for a moment and inhaled, looking over his shoulder though his eyes didn’t meet hers.

“I won’t let that happen.” He said evenly and left, the door closing loudly behind him. She tried to still her shaky hands, dragging on the shrinking cigarette.

_______

end part 1 here :)

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cabaret #burlesque

167 notes · View notes

frvnkcastles · 11 months

Note

Hello my lovely writer,

I love your work but wasn't brave enough to write you, until today =) even if I don't know if you're still accepting requests I give it a try, in hope that you like to write a story with your wonderful words. Currently I'm sick as a dog and in need of some care taking Frank...

Frank and her are dating for some time now, but she has problems with trusting him completely because of her last abusive relationship. So she didn't tell him that she is chronical ill and often suffers from pulmonary infections and tachycardia always when she feels under the weather or sick she tells him she is busy so they can't meet. When she's falling deathly sick with a very high fever she tells him to raincheck their date. Frank gets suspicious and tries not to think of her cheating with him. When he doesn't hear from her for days and she doesn't answer his texts and phone calls he's mad and he wants to confront her. What he doesn't know is that she's at home deathly sick and in need of help cause of her high fever. When she doesn't open her door he is raging thinking that she's in bed with another man, but what he finds shatters his heart not as he aspected. He finds her semi conscious on her bathroom floor....

Well some angst, drama, secrets of her past and a protective caretaking Frank nurses her back to health.

Hope that's something you like.

Love, kiss and hugs sends you a fan of your work

Sorry for my English, it's not my first language 🤍

SIRENS IN MY HEAD ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Feeling under the weather, you cancel your date with Frank, and when he doesn’t hear from you for a few days, he expects the worst — only to find an equally bad situation: you, unconscious on the bathroom floor.

Warnings: Chronic illness, mentions of an abusive ex, cursing, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2.2k

Author’s note: Omg anon it took me so long to finish this, I apologize!! I took some creative liberties with this one because personally I feel like Frank would assume something bad happened to you instead of cheating, but I hope you still like what I came up with :) I’m sending you lots of love and good vibes!!

In the past couple of months, you and Frank had discovered that you had a lot in common — you both liked dogs, you both tended to put others before yourselves, and you liked the same kind of music playing from his truck radio whenever he took you anywhere. But the most glaring similarity between the two of you lately was that neither of you remembered the first thing about dating. He had never even intended to get back into it, but then you had come and won his heart all to yourself, whereas you had been reserved and wary ever since you had broken up with your aggressive and controlling ex. His habit of putting you down with words as much as his hands had earned you a complete distrust of men — with Frank being, apparently, the exception.

Still, you didn’t completely open up to him. In fact, there was one major thing you had been holding out on, out of the fear that it would be too much for him to take — or worse, he would take advantage of that weakness somehow. So when you started to feel under the weather once more, your chronic tendencies acting up again, you made sure not to tell him why you were canceling your dinner date.

”Yeah, it’s just, I have to be at work all day and it doesn’t really seem like it’s gonna work out today”, you rambled into the phone, hoping Frank wouldn’t call you out on the bullshit excuse, only to be crushed a little more by his disappointed voice.

”Oh, okay, sweetheart. ’M sorry to hear that. Maybe tomorrow, then, huh?” Frank suggested, his gravelly voice full of dismay, and as a wave of nausea rushed over you, you squeezed your eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath.

”Actually, uh, I’m not sure I can make that work. I’m really sorry, but I’ll—I’ll let you know when I’m… more available”, you cleared your throat, embarrassment creeping up your spine and mixing in with the cold sweat breaking on your forehead. ”Again, I’m sorry. I have to go.”

With that, you hung up the phone and threw it next to you on the mattress before groaning and running your hands across your face. You hated this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to telling him the truth. Still, as your fever rose and your heartrate refused to calm down, you wished nothing more than to have Frank by your side, caressing your hair and holding your hand.

It wasn’t the first time you had done this, tried to fool him into thinking you were fine when in reality you were not, but this was the first time Frank was more than just a little bit suspicious. He would have liked to think that enough time had passed between the two of you for you to be honest with him, the same way he was learning to be honest with you — even about things he had always kept to himself.

Still, he let it go. For the first couple of days, anyway. Then all of a sudden, you weren’t answering texts, ranging from casual check-ins to more clear requests for any kind of sign, and when he called you, you didn’t pick up, either. You had gone completely radio silent for the fourth day now, whereas before you would get back to Frank within minutes. He missed checking his phone and seeing a notification from you, and like a goddamn schoolgirl, he missed texting you until ungodly hours in the AM until he’d pass out on his phone from sheer exhaustion.

And Frank, well, he always assumed the worst. The most horrendous scenario imaginable was already forming in his head, and he tried his damnedest to keep his cool, but fuck, if he wasn’t worried. He tried to get his mind off of you by cleaning his guns, but he soon realized it was just to prepare him against whoever had possibly taken you from your home, or maybe even the street. Surely something had happened for you to not even let him know you were okay.

”Goddamn it, sweetheart”, he muttered at his phone where his long list of unanswered text messages stared back at him. He tried to sit still in his silent apartment, but the longer he did, the worse he started to overthink. And before he knew it, he was out the door, headed for your building with his gun in the waistband of his jeans.

Tapping on the wheel, he impatiently swerved from one street to another. He had gotten far too attached to you — in fact, he hadn’t even realized just how deeply until right now, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. You had become so indescribably important to him, more than he’d even care to admit, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He was ready to go to war for you if that was what the night had in the cards for him.

He was at your front door in almost no time, his knuckles knocking on the door to give you the chance to answer. But when nothing happened, not even a squeak came from indoors, Frank tried the handle — to no avail. ”Fuck”, he cursed under his breath, knowing you’d hand his ass to him for what he was about to do, but he wasn’t going to let a mere door stand in his way.

And so, he shoved through the door with his shoulder, busting in unceremoniously and with a bang. At first glance, the apartment looked untouched, and in any other situation, he would have taken a moment to appreciate just how you it was, from photos to little plushies decorating the place. But now, he was focused on only one thing, and that was finding you. Even though the place seemed normal in every way, he withdrew his gun and kept it hoisted in the air just in case, the barrel leading the way as he searched the apartment room by room.

It was in the bathroom that Frank found what he was looking for, only to be slapped in the face by the horror that quickly washed over him at the sight — you, lying on the floor, sweat beading on your feverish face while you breathed heavily and unevenly.

”Shit”, he uttered out while putting his gun away and kneeling down beside you. ”Sweetheart? Hey, sweet girl, can you hear me? Hey, I need ya to wake up for me, okay?” Frank continued, his anger fading into worry as he lifted your head up and tried to gently shake you into consciousness. When you began moving on your own and your eyes parted open, he sighed in relief, but licked his lips in the realization that you were not in the clear yet.

”Hey, hey, take it easy. You with me, darlin’? Look at me”, he instructed with short and simple statements, his voice gentle but stern, and you found it in yourself to follow his guidance. You leaned into him and looked up at him, struggling to find your words with your dry throat and your dizzy head.

”Didn’t want you to see me like this”, you slurred, and knitting his eyebrows together, Frank tilted his head at you.

Nodding to promise he understood, he cleared his throat. ”Listen, I’mma take you to the hospital, aight? I’ll be with you the whole time, I promise”, he continued, and even though you didn’t have it in you to fight back, you nodded.

With ease, Frank picked you up from the floor, and as quickly but carefully as he could, he rushed downstairs to his truck where he made sure to protect your head and avoid any sudden movements while buckling you in. He maintained a balance between rushing and not risking your life any further, but needless to say, he was relieved no cops pulled him over as he sped through the streets to get to the emergency room.

He was working on autopilot, his instincts guiding him but his mind not quite catching up with what was happening. He was scared, but that part of him was shutting down completely and the diligent soldier in him took charge of the situation until you were lying in a hospital bed, still unconscious but stable according to the doctors.

He didn’t leave your side for one second, even when his eyes started to slip and his body yearned for coffee. The doctors told him he might have to wait all night, but he was willing to — he just wasn’t going to let you wake up all alone, confused and hurt.

It must have been near 4 AM when you finally came to, your groggy movements alerting Frank who was half-asleep in the chair he had dragged to your bedside. But as soon as you seemed to be waking up, he was eyes wide and his hand reaching for yours. You were too out of it to fight him off even if you had wanted to, but when your eyes adjusted to the new setting and you slowly realized where you were, you clung onto him desperately.

”Frank…”, you croaked out, eyes blinking rapidly as you lifted your head just a little bit, and shushing you softly, Frank caressed your cheek with his free hand.

”Hey there, pretty girl. I’m right here. You’re at the hospital, okay? I found you, uh, I found ya unconscious and I got you here”, he started, his rough voice a warm welcome as you got oriented — although as you did, you found yourself hoping you wouldn’t.

As soon as you remembered the couple of days you had had, shame, regret and guilt gushed into your system, poisoning you from within and encouraging you to bury your face in your hands. You groaned, but still blissfully unaware, Frank continued.

”I—I’m not really sure what happened and the doctors don’t wanna tell me anythin’…”, he trailed off, sounding and looking very much like a kicked puppy, and it made you feel so shitty. God, you really liked him, and now it felt like everything you had developed together was moments away from burning to ashes.

”I’m so sorry, Frank. I didn’t want you to get involved in this mess”, you breathed out, pursing your lips together awkwardly in an effort to not cry.

”Hey, you don’t gotta apologize. I… I wanna be involved in whatever you got goin’ on, y’know?” he shrugged before licking his lips and adding, ”and since I’m here now, maybe you could tell me what’s goin’ on?”

He made a damn good argument there. So, you decided to put on your big girl pants and rip off the band-aid.

”I suffer from these… spells, I guess. I deal with chronic illness and when I get sick, I get really sick. I’ve been struggling with it a lot this week, so I cancelled our date”, you explained with a grimace, but Frank didn’t seem shaken by it — worried, sure, but about to make your worst nightmares come true? Not by a long shot.

”Man, that’s… Shit, that sucks. No way ’round it. ’M sorry”, he sympathized, and you nodded quietly to accept his kindness. ”Maybe I’m just a big ole’ idiot but uh, you coulda just told me, yeah?” Frank wondered, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his innocent attempt to understand. Granted, you weren’t making it easy for him.

”Yeah, that’s where my trust issues come in, I guess. Um, my ex was really… Well, the worst. I kinda learned to expect the worst from everyone, especially men, and I didn’t want to risk telling you because I didn’t know how you’d react. Even now I’m kind of worried about what this means for our future”, you admitted nervously, your fingers fiddling with the thin cover on top of you, and Frank immediately squeezed your hand to reassure you.

”I ain’t gonna do anythin’ you don’t want me to. I’ll try to learn about it and do whatever I can to help ya out, is that okay?” he questioned shyly, and with a quick nod, you smiled at him.

”It’s okay. I would like that. I just don’t want it to be an inconvenience or—or something that gives you too much control over me”, you explained, and tilting his head at you, Frank frowned.

”I don’t wanna control you, sweetheart. ’M sorry your ex was a piece of shit like that. But I promise ya, I ain’t gonna be the same. I’mma do this shit right”, he insisted, still squeezing your hand, and as his words hung in the air, you felt the anxiety slowly fade away. Maybe, this could work out.

”Thank you”, you whispered, and nodding to confirm it was the least he could do, Frank lifted your hand to his mouth and left a gentle kiss on the back of it.

”Next time… you can tell me and maybe I can come over and take care of you, yeah?” he offered, and when you broke into an approving smile, he flashed a grin at you. ”Good, good… ’Cause I gotta be honest, I really like you, girl. And I ain’t plannin’ on messin’ this up”, Frank pointed out, and with a giggle escaping your mouth, you gripped his hand a bit tighter.

”Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine so far.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

186 notes · View notes