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imaginaryf1shots · 2 days

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Shattered | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 7K

Lewis x reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You and Lewis have been in a long term relationship, he's on a triple header and you decide to surprise him only to walk in on him in bed with your childhood friend, more over you're pregnant with his baby.

Warning: cheating, cursing, pregnancy, miscarriage, blood, drugs, Sorry to all Carlas out there, but I just generated a name

A.N: This is longer that I was anticipating but it needed to be long.

Masterlist

You have been with Lewis for years, five years to be exact. Enough time for him to be integrated into your friend group. You usually try to travel with him as much as you can, but sometimes due to work commitments it’s hard for you to follow him. Saving your days off for the important races and his days off so you could relax together. One of your friends, Carla, was in between jobs at one point but wasn’t able to find anything. So Lewis being the man he is, offered her a spot in his team, and so Carla has been travelling with him a lot since then.

So she was the person you went to when you wanted to surprise Lewis, he was not expecting you this weekend at all, and you managed to get time off to see him. It’s been 2 weeks since you saw each other and you were itching to go see him.

Your heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation as you approached the hotel door, after 2 weeks of separation, you couldn’t wait to be in Lewis’s arms again. You smile to yourself, relishing the surprise you planned for him. Slipping the keycard into the lock, you push the door open, your anticipation building with each passing second.

The last thing you thought would happen, happened. The sight that greeted you inside shattered all your hopes and dreams in an instant. The smile wiped from your face, just like that.

There, on the bed, lay Lewis,your partner of five years, his eyes unfocused and distant. And straddling him, with a look of brazen disregard, was Carla, your childhood friend, her confidante, her sister in all but blood. But there was nothing familiar about the way she straddled Lewis, her movements possessive and predatory.

Your mind reeled, unable to process the surreal things unfolding before you. You watched in stunned disbelief as Carla leaned in close to Lewis, her lips brushing against his ear in whispered intimacy. But there was no warmth in the embrace, no tenderness in the caress. Lewis seemed so drunk he showed no reaction to what’s happening around him. The shock was like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not to you. Not with the two people you trusted most in the world.

"Carla- Lewis." The words caught in your throat, your voice a mere whisper against the oppressive silence of the room.

"y/n..." Carla's voice cut through the suffocating silence, but there was no remorse in her tone, only a chilling indifference. "I didn't expect you so soon."

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the betrayal unfolding in front of you. Lewis wouldn't do this to you, and neither would Carla. But as you looked into their eyes, Lewis's vacant and Carla's calculating ones, you knew the truth. They had betrayed you, and they had done it knowingly.

A surge of anger and hurt threatened to overwhelm you.

“C-Carla, why are you- on t-top of Lewis like that?” You asked, voice trembling with anger and betrayal but most of all hurt.

“It's not what you think, y-y/n. Lewis wasn't feeling well, so I was just... helping him.” Carla tried to reason, she’s no longer on top of Lewis, she picked up his shirt that you bought for him and slipped it on.

“Helping him?” You scoffed, your eyes flashing with fury. “Cut the crap! Lewis, what the hell are you doing with her?”

“y/n, please, let me explain.” Carla pleaded with you and you shook your head.

“Explain? Explain what, Carla? That you're on top of my boyfriend?” This is all too much, even with her words, and her pleading with you, it all sounded fake. She’s not sorry and there’s no explanation to this, she knew what she was doing.

“Y/n? B-baby? What are you doing h-here?” Lewis sounded so out of it, shit drunk for sure. Lewis isn’t the type to drink a lot. You can remember all the times he was so drunk he was out of it, it’s so not like him. But it’s also not like Carla to be naked on top of your naked boyfriend.

“Fucking herll, I trusted you, i trusted you both.” Tears of betrayal well up in your eyes. “The girl I considered my sister and the man I love more than anything in my life, how could you? Honestly, how could you?”

Carla stutters and Lewis tried to move but he couldn’t even support his own weight, leaving you to scoff, and strom out of the room, as you fled down the hallway, tears stream down your face, your heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces by the two people you trusted most.

“y/n!” A familiar voice calls your name, on instinct you stop and turn, only to see Sebastian there, you have no idea what the former F1 driver is doing here but seeing him made you cry more. Seb was there when your relationship started with Lewis, he’s seen it all. “What happened? Do you want me to find Lewis for you?”

“No, I don’t want to see that asshole again in my life.” You spit out, Seb frowns at your words, but he says nothing. He just pulls you in his arms and hugs you.

“It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” Seb tries to comfort you, but you shake your head no.

“It’s not okay, Seb, and it never will be.” You pull back, wiping your tears away. “You should go check on him, so he wouldn’t choke on his spit… or leave him, what do I care.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian wasn’t sure about leaving you in this state, he’ll have a word with Lewis about whatever he’s done to leave you like that. He’s never seen you like this.

“Yes, I’m catching the next flight home.” You tell him and manage the smallest smile known to mankind, before you turn and leave. This time keeping your head down so you wouldn’t be seen or stopped again.

You take a taxi to the airport, your crying started once you were in the back of the car, feeling as your body went through the heartbreak, your world felt like it was collapsing around you. The weather seats of the car felt cold against your trembling body, and each bump in the road sent jolts of pain shooting through your already shattered heart.

The city passed by in a blur outside the window, the lights and sounds of the streets blending together into an indistinct haze. But inside the taxi, you were enveloped in a suffocating silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Your emotional pain had morphed into something physical, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Every breath felt like a struggle, as if the air itself had turned thick and heavy with your sorrow.

The ache in your chest radiated outwards, spreading through your body like wildfire. It felt as though your heart had been torn from your chest, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that throbbed with every beat.

You hugged your arms tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold the pieces of your shattered heart together. But no amount of physical embrace could ease the agony that consumed you from within.

Unbeknownst to you, your body harbored another source of pain. A life growing within you, fragile and unsuspected until now.

The physical toll of your distress began to manifest, a dull ache in your abdomen gradually intensifying into sharp, stabbing pains. Clutching your stomach, you doubled over, gasping for breath as waves of agony washed over you.

The taxi driver who was aware of your tears noticed the change in you, he noticed your distress, concern etched on his face as he glanced back at you through the rearview mirror.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions, confusion mingling with the searing pain radiating from your abdomen.

“P-Please… the hospital.” You manage to say through the haze and agony, your voice barely a whisper.

With a sense of urgency, the taxi driver changed course, steering the vehicle towards the nearest hospital. You clung to consciousness by a thread, your breaths shallow and ragged, each movement sending fresh waves of pain coursing through your body.

As the taxi screeched to a halt in front of the hospital's emergency entrance, you were helped out of the car by the concerned driver. Every step you took felt like an eternity, the pain in your abdomen intensifying with each passing moment.

Inside the hospital, you were rushed to the emergency room, where doctors and nurses worked quickly to assess your condition.

The fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare over the stark white walls. Nurses bustled around you, hooking you up to monitors and taking your vital signs, their movements a blur in your pain-addled mind.

You lay on the hospital bed, your body wracked with waves of agony that seemed to consume your whole being. You clutched your abdomen, the source of your torment, with trembling hands, each heartbeat sending fresh spikes of pain coursing through you.

A doctor entered the room, his expression grave as he approached your bedside. His voice was calm but tinged with concern as he addressed you.

"Miss, I'm Dr. Patel. We've run some tests, and I'm afraid I have some news for you."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked up at the doctor, your eyes filled with fear and apprehension.

"What is it, doctor? What's wrong with me?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the hospital.

Dr. Patel hesitated for a moment, his gaze sympathetic as he delivered the news that would shatter your world once more, you thought that what happened earlier is the worst thing that could ever happen to you. And you’re about to be proven wrong. You haven’t reached reached your lowest point yet.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Miss, but it appears that you were pregnant. Unfortunately, it seems you are experiencing a miscarriage."

Your world spun out of control at the doctor’s words, your mind reeling with shock and disbelief. Pregnant? Miscarraige? You couldn't wrap your head around the enormity of what the doctor was telling you.

“I-I I was pregnant?” You whispered, your voice choking with emotion. Dr. Patel nodded solemnly.

"Yes, it seems that way. I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Tears streamed sown your face as the weight of the doctor’s words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You had been carrying a life with you, unaware until now, unaware until it was all too late, until it was taken from you.

Alone in the hospital room, with only the sterile walls for company, you grieved for the child you had never known, your heart breaking with a pain that transcended words. And as you lay there, lost in her anguish, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

Seb's heart pounded with a mixture of anger and concern as he stormed down the hotel corridor towards Lewis's room. The state he saw in you fuelled his determination to confront his friend.

Reaching the door, Seb banged on it with force, the sound reverberating through the hallway. He heard shuffling inside before the door swung open to reveal a dishevelled Lewis and a startled Carla.

"What the hell is going on here?" Seb's voice thundered, his anger barely contained.

Carla stumbled over her words, attempting to offer an explanation, but Seb silenced her with a stern glare. His attention shifted to Lewis, disappointment etched deeply into his features.

"Lewis, how could you?" Seb's voice cracked with emotion, his disbelief palpable. "With Carla, of all people?"

Lewis blinked, his expression a mixture of confusion and alarm. "Seb, I- I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

“Don’t play dumb, Lewis, I just saw y/n.” Seb's frustration surged as he realised Lewis's confusion. “She was in tears over you.”

Carla, sensing the escalating tension, made a hasty exit, leaving Seb alone with Lewis. The weight of disappointment hung heavy in the air as Seb struggled to comprehend what had happened.

"Lewis, something's not right here," Seb said, his voice softening slightly as he studied his friend's bewildered expression. "You seem... out of it."

Lewis shook his head, his memory foggy and fragmented. "I don't know what's happening, Seb. Everything's a blur."

Seb's concern deepened as he realised the severity of the situation. With a sense of urgency, he dialled the only number he had of Lewis’s team, relaying the state he’s in. Even though he’s more coherent now from when you were here, he was still out of it. Stumbling a little, his pupils blown wide, his words sluggish and he’s stuttering.

Minutes later, a medical team arrived at the hotel room, their professional demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos within. They quickly assessed Lewis's condition, taking blood samples and running tests while Seb watched on, his worry mounting with each passing moment. They have to make sure he’s okay to race the next day.

As Lewis began to regain consciousness, the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fall into place. Seb breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his friend was going to be okay.

"What... what happened?" Lewis mumbled, his gaze darting around the room in confusion.

Seb sighed, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his shoulders. "We'll figure it out, Lewis. But for now, let's focus on getting you the help you need."

Sebastian had a theory but until it’s confirmed he’ll just keep it to himself.

Lewis trudged up the familiar path to your shared home, his heart heavy with a sense of dread. The events of the past few days had left him reeling, his mind still struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed his life.

As he reached the front door, he hesitated for a moment, steeling himself for what lay beyond. With a shaky hand, he inserted the key and turned the lock, the door swinging open with a creak that echoed through the empty hallway.

The emptiness of the house hit Lewis like a physical blow, the silence oppressive and suffocating. He stepped inside, the weight of his solitude bearing down on him with each echoing footstep.

The living room was barren, devoid of the warmth and familiarity that once filled the space. Lewis's gaze swept over the room, searching for any trace of the life he had known, but found only echoes of the past.

His heart sank as he realised that your belongings were gone, your absence a gaping void in your once shared home. The realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, the ache of loss settling deep in his chest.

With trembling hands, Lewis reached for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he scrolled through his contacts. But when he tried to call you, he was met with nothing but silence, just like it has been since that day, the realisation crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

You had blocked him on everything.

The weight of your absence pressed down on Lewis with crushing force, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness and regret.

How had it all gone so wrong? How had he allowed himself to stray so far from the love that had once anchored him?

With a heavy heart, Lewis sank onto the couch, his head in his hands as he surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair. In the silence of their empty home, he grappled with the harsh reality of his mistakes, the mistakes he has no memory of, mistakes that he’d never do, longing for a chance to make things right, even as he feared it might already be too late.

Lewis sat alone in your once vibrant home, the air heavy with an oppressive silence that mirrored the emptiness in his heart. He had spent days in a haze of despair. His attempts to reach out to you were met with a resounding silence, leaving him to grapple with his own sense of remorse and longing.

As he sat listlessly on the couch, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the quietude of the room. With a heavy sigh, Lewis reached for the device, his fingers trembling as he answered the call.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse with exhaustion, his eyes fixed on a distant point in the room.

The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, belonging to a friend of yours, someone Lewis hadn't spoken to in months. The words that followed pierced through the heavy fog of his mind, jolting him into stark awareness.

"Lewis." the voice began, its tone laced with sorrow. “I hate to be the one telling you this, and y/n would hate me for telling you.”

“What’s wrong?” Lewis is instantly filled with a sense of dread and fear as his mind realed trying to come up with reasons why your friend was calling him.

"I'm so sorry to have to tell you this on the phone, but y/n, she was pregnant.”

Lewis’s mind only heard and registered pregnant at first. “Pregnant?” And then he realsied the tense your friend was using. “Was? What do you mean was?”

Silence.

“She lost the baby."

Lewis felt as though the ground had fallen out from beneath him, his heart plummeting into despair. The weight of the revelation crushed him, leaving him gasping for breath as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of the loss.

A baby. Their baby. The child you had never known, taken from you before you even had a chance to hold it in your arms. The realisation sent shockwaves of grief coursing through Lewis's veins, his mind reeling with a cacophony of emotions.

"Why... why didn't she tell me?" Lewis's voice wavered with anguish, his heart splintering into a million fractured pieces. "How could she go through something like this alone?"

The friend on the other end of the line offered what comfort they could, their own voice trembling with empathy. “After everything that happened, she’s entitled to being alone Lewis, I just thought it’s best you know.”

In that moment of searing clarity, Lewis knew what he had to do.

He needed to see you. He needed to hold you in his arms and share in your grief, to let you know that you weren’t alone in your pain. He needed to face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be.

With a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, Lewis rose from his seat and made his way to the bedroom, his phone out already as he called for his jet to be ready in Nice. He’s going to find you, no matter what it took.

Lewis stood on your doorstep, his heart heavy with a mixture of apprehension and determination. He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could make contact with the wood, the door swung open, revealing his tired and worn-down ex-girlfriend.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Lewis standing before you. The lines of exhaustion etched deep into your features softened briefly before hardening into a mask of cold indifference.

"Lewis." You said, your voice devoid of its usual warmth. "What are you doing here?"

Lewis swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him as he met your gaze. "Love, we need to talk."

A flicker of anger flashed in your eyes, but you remained silent, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if to shield yourself from his presence. This leaves him doubting this more than ever.

"I know I messed up, but I need to make things right." Lewis said, his voice trembling with emotion. Your expression remained impassive, but Lewis could see the pain lurking beneath the surface, a reflection of his own turmoil.

"I'm tired of talking, Lewis." You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't get to waltz back into my life after everything you’ve done."

Lewis felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest at your words, the weight of his actions bearing down on him with crushing force. He had hoped for a chance to make amends, but your cold indifference left him doubting whether reconciliation was even possible, and rightfully so.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness." He replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "I just want to understand. About... about what happened."

Your eyes flashed with a mixture of grief and anger at the mention of the past, the pain etched plainly across your face. Lewis felt his heart ache at the sight of your suffering, knowing that he was the cause of it.

"Don't you dare talk to me about what happened." You spat, your voice trembling with emotion. "You don't get to pretend like you care after what you did."

Lewis recoiled as if struck, the force of your words driving the breath from his lungs. He felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of his mistakes threatening to suffocate him.

"I made a mistake, love, and I remember nothing, I was so out of it." He whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "But I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, and I'm sorry."

For a moment, the anger in your eyes softened, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. But it was fleeting, overshadowed once again by a steely resolve.

"I can't do this, Lewis," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Lewis's voice wavered with uncertainty as he broached the topic that weighed heavily on his mind. "Did you... Did you know about the child before it happened?"

Your eyes flickered with a mixture of pain and disbelief at his question, the raw emotions swirling beneath the surface like a tempest.

"Does it even matter now?" You retorted, your voice tinged with bitterness. "Knowing or not wouldn't change what happened."

Lewis's heart sank at your response, the weight of his own ignorance pressing down on him with suffocating force. He had hoped for some shred of understanding.

"I just... I want to be there for you." He pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want to help you through this, if you'll let me."

Your expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the facade of cold indifference. But it was fleeting, replaced once again by a steely resolve.

"I can't do this, Lewis." You said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not with you."

With a heavy heart, Lewis watched as you closed the door in his face, shutting him out from your life once again. He stood there for a moment, the weight of your rejection crushing him under its unbearable burden.

As he turned and walked away, the echoes of your shattered love lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of what could have been.

Lewis returned to your doorstep every day since, with you refusing to open the door and speak to him. His nights are long and sleepless, as he tries to deal with the turmoil inside of him, he lost you and he lost his child all in one day. It all happened when he was drunk, when he was so out of it he can’t even remember it right now. He knew that he had to try, to lay bare his soul and beg for the forgiveness he so desperately wanted. Needed.

And so once more and with a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping softly against the wood. Finally, after six days of trying the door opened, Lewis was met with your tired gaze, your eyes betraying a mixture of weariness and guarded apprehension. He felt his resolve waver for a moment, the weight of your silent scrutiny pressing down on him like a leaden weight.

"y/n." He began, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please, I need to talk to you."

You regarded him with a wary expression, but remained silent, and so he continued. "I know I've made mistakes, love, believe me I do." Lewis confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I've hurt you in ways I never intended, and I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for that."

Your eyes softened slightly at his words, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of indifference. But before you could respond, Lewis pressed on, his desperation driving him forward.

"I can't change the past." He admitted, his voice thick with regret. "But I can promise you this, I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I'll be there for you, through every moment of pain and loss. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself to you."

Tears welled in your eyes at his heartfelt plea, his words striking a chord deep within your wounded heart. Part of you yearned to forgive him, to let him back into your life and embrace the hope of a second chance. But the scars he had left behind were still tender, the pain still fresh and raw.

"I don't know if I can." You whispered.

Lewis felt a pang of despair grip his heart at your words, the fear of losing you forever threatening to overwhelm him. But he refused to give up, his love for you driving him to keep fighting. He’s never given up when it came to racing, and he’s certainly not going to give up now.

"I understand," he said, his voice filled with determination. "But please, just think about it. I'll be waiting for you, for as long as it takes."

With one final pleading look, Lewis turned and walked away.

After weeks of silence and contemplation, you finally made the decision to unblock Lewis and reach out to him. You’ve seen the races, you’ve seen the interviews, Lewis is a man broken, under his eyes have grown darker, he no longer smiles or jokes around. For the first time in his career, racing has become just a job for him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of trepidation, you sent him a text, informing him of your upcoming visit to Monaco and your intention to meet and talk things through. You had some business there you had to take care of, and that was the final push, that maybe you should sit down and talk everything through, not to get back together but maybe to just start moving on, maybe and just maybe become friends and nothing more. You lived with the motion that once a cheater, always a cheater.

You ring the bell to your-Lewis’s house and wait for him to open the door, even though your keychain holds the key that will let you in. This place you once called home. Memories flood your mind as you stand at the front door, a mixture of nostalgia and pain gripping your heart. You take a deep breath and knock. Moments later, the door opens to reveal Lewis, looking worn out and deeply regretful. His eyes soften at the sight of you and there’s hope in them. You’re about to crush that hope and despite everything you hate that you will, and you hate yourself even more for still caring about him even for a bit.

“Come in.” He says quietly, stepping aside to let you pass.

You walk inside, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the faint aroma of the diffuser you always had dotted around the house. The house is tidy, but there’s an unmistakable air of emptiness, it's void of all your little things that you took with you when you left. You sit down on the couch, feeling a strange mix of comfort and tension.

Lewis sits across from you, his hands clasped together, knuckles white. The silence between you is heavy, each second feeling like an eternity.

“You wanted to talk.” You begin, your voice trembling slightly.

He nods, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry for everything. I... I didn’t know how to reach you, how to make things right.”

“I don't know if you ever could.” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him. “Seeing you with her... it broke me, Lewis. I trusted both of you. And then... losing the baby...” Your voice breaks, and you cover your mouth, trying to stifle a sob. Lewis’s eyes fill with tears as he reaches out but stops himself, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

“I didn’t know,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I swear I didn’t know what was happening. I don't even remember drinking, but my mind went blank, I would never...”

You nod, struggling to hold back the flood of emotions. “I believe you. But it doesn’t make the pain any less real.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He leans forward, his eyes pleading. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through.”

“You don’t have to imagine.” You reply, your voice tinged with bitterness. “It’s real, and it’s here. Every single day.”

Lewis looks down, shame and regret etched into his features. “If I could take it all back, I would. I’d do anything to make this right.”

“I know. And I’m trying to understand, to forgive, the 5 years we spent together aren't so easy to flush down the drain.” You sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “But it’s so hard, Lewis. Losing our baby... it feels like the universe is p-punishing me.”

“It’s not your fault.” He says softly, his eyes filling with tears. “None of this is your fault. I was careless, I let my guard down. I should have protected you, protected us.” Lewis wipes away a tear, his voice trembling, seeing the man you loved for so long cry, made your own eyes fill with tears. He betrayed you but you still both lost your child before you even knew they existed. “I miss you. I miss us. I want to be there for you, to help you heal. If you’ll let me, just af friends .”

Instinctively, you both move closer, seeking solace in each other’s presence. Lewis reaches out and gently takes your hand, his touch tentative yet filled with a desperate need to comfort you.

“I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened.” You admit, your voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t have to.” He replies, his grip on your hand tightening. “But we can try to move forward, we can try to start coping. Together.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the depth of his sorrow and love. In that moment, you realise that despite everything, the bond between you is still there, it has weakened but it's still there.

“Do you really think we can get through this?” You ask, a hint of hope in your voice.

“I do.” Lewis says earnestly. “It won’t be easy, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”

Tears stream down your face as you lean into each other, your foreheads touching. The hug is a mix of comfort, sorrow, and the lingering love you still feel. You hold each other tightly, finding a fragile sense of solace in your shared grief and determination to heal. The journey ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope.

Someone knocks on the front door, you break apart and Lewis goes to answer the door while you wipe your tears away.

”What are you doing here?” You hear Lewis say, and just as you stood up to go see who it is, Carla comes into the living room. You weren’t expecting her at all, unlike Lewis Carla hasn’t tried to reach out to you in any way. She has even spread some false information about you in your friend group. Carla storms in, her face twisted with anger and jealousy.

“What the hell is this?” she shouts, her eyes wild. “How can you forgive him after everything?”

“Carla, what are you doing here?”

”Me? What are you doing here? You’re just going to forgive him?” She ignores your question, her anger escalating.

“What happens between us is none of your business.” You tell her getting angry yourself, you weren’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that you haven’t forgiven Lewis and you were merely trying to deal with the grief of losing your child.

“After everything I’ve done to break you two up, I could go to jail!” Her words hang in the air, a shocking revelation that leaves you both speechless. Realising what she’s just admitted, Carla’s face pales, and she tries to backtrack. “I didn’t mean that,” she stammers, but it’s too late. The truth is out.

“What did you just say?” Lewis asks, his eyes narrowing.

Carla’s eyes dart around the room, desperate for an escape. “You heard me wrong. I was just angry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Did you plan everything? Did you mean to break us up? Is that it?” Your anger is boiling over.

“He was supposed to be mine! You were always in the way! You don’t deserve him!” Carla’s face contorted with rage.

Lewis steps between you and Carla, his voice steady but filled with fury. “Get out of my house, Carla. Now.”

“You’re just going to throw me out? After everything I did for you?” Carla’s eyes flash with defiance.

“Everything you did for me?” Lewis scoffs. “You tried to destroy my life, my relationship. You’re the reason we lost our baby!”

“I... I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Carla takes a step back, realising the gravity of her actions. She may have wanted to break you up, but she didn’t know about your baby’s, and she didn’t want you to lose them anyways.

“You need to leave,” you say, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Carla glares at you one last time before turning and storming out, slamming the door behind her. The house is silent for a moment, as you try to process everything that just happened.

”What did she mean after everything I’ve done and the jail thing?” You ask Lewis hoping he had any clue on what Carla was talking about.

”I-I’m not sure.”

”Did anything happen before or after…that night?” You ask him, hugging yourself, Lewis once more stops himself from pulling you closer into his arms.

”I don’t know, I was sick the whole night, almost didn’t race the next day.” Lewis remembers the weird sickness he had, it came out of nowhere. “Wait, Sebastian was there.”

”Seb? He actually went to your room?” You asked, knowing Seb of course he did what you said.

”Yeah, I’ll give him a call.” Lewis grabs his phone and calls Seb, recounting Carla’s outburst. Seb who was already suspicious, reinforces the need to follow up on the blood tests.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Seb assures. “Hang tight, and I’ll push the lab to rush the results.”

Apparently since Lewis was alright the day after, they haven’t paid his lap results any mind, but once Seb called them they rushed in sending the results.

“Lewis, I-I have the results,” Seb says, his voice grave. You already have a feeling about what he will say.

“What did they find?” he asks, his heart pounding.

“There were traces of a sedative in your blood. It’s a strong one, often used in cases of severe anxiety or insomnia, but in high doses, it can knock someone out cold,” Seb explains.

A wave of relief and anger washes over you simultaneously. “So, it’s true,” you say, your voice trembling. “Carla really did drug you.”

”I’m afraid so.” Seb said and there was a moment of silence. “I’ll let you guys absorb this, and I’ll call you later.”

”Alright, thank you Seb.”

The confirmation that Lewis was drugged shifts the dynamics entirely. You and Lewis sit in silence, absorbing the magnitude of what has just happened.

Lewis leans back, closing his eyes as he processes the information. “I can’t believe she would do something like this. I trusted her. We both did.”

“She manipulated the situation. But now we know the truth.” You reach out, taking his hand.

“I feel so violated, so helpless. I hate that she did this to us, to you.” He squeezes your hand, tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn’t just drugged and taken advantage of, his relationship was ruined and he lost his child in the process.

“I hate it too.” you admit, your voice cracking. “But at least we have proof now. We can start to heal.”

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace, his body shaking with emotion. “I’m so sorry for everything. I should have seen the signs. I should have protected you.”

“We couldn’t have known. She was our friend, or at least we thought she was. But we’re still here, and we can get through this together.” You hold him close, your own tears mingling with his.

The emotional weight of the past weeks begins to lift as you find solace in each other’s arms. There’s a renewed sense of unity and strength, knowing that the truth is out and that you can begin to move forward. Knowing that Lewis didn’t cheat left you with a sense of relief, you’re not alone.

“We need to press charges.” You say once you both have calmed down. “She can’t get away with this.”

“You’re right. She can’t get away with this.” Lewis nods, his face set with determination. And he does call his lawyers and told them what happened, they have told him what to do next. A call to the police was made and that set everything in motion, Carla wasn’t getting away with it.

It's been a few weeks since the confrontation with Carla and the revelation that Lewis was drugged. The legal process against her is ongoing, and while justice is on the horizon, the emotional scars remain. You and Lewis have reconciled, but the path to healing is long and filled with pain. The loss of your child is something that still haunt you and will continue to do for a very long time.

You wake up in Lewis's arms, the morning light filtering through the curtains. It's a Saturday, and for the first time in a while, there's no pressing urgency—no lawyers to meet, no police interviews to give, no races to go to, no meetings and no work. Just the two of you, trying to find some semblance of normalcy.

Lewis stirs and looks at you, his eyes soft but weary. "Good morning," he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning," you reply, managing a small smile. The simple act of waking up together feels both comforting and bittersweet.

The day unfolds slowly. You make breakfast together, an unspoken effort to reclaim a sense of routine. The kitchen fills with the aroma of coffee and pancakes, a small comfort amid the lingering sadness.

As you sit down to eat, an awkward silence settles between you. Finally, Lewis breaks it. "How are you feeling today?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating your words. "Some days are better than others. Today... I'm not sure yet."

"I miss the baby too. We may have not known them but I miss them so much." He nods, understanding, he says softly, his voice tinged with unexplainable pain. "Every day."

Tears well up in your eyes, and you reach across the table to take his hand. "I know. It's hard to move on, to find a way forward."

"We don't have to rush," Lewis reassures you. "We can take it one day at a time."

After that you found yourselves, both seeking solace in small, intimate moments. Taking long walks in the park, sitting quietly on the couch reading, holding each other during sleepless nights. These moments become the fragile threads that begin to weave your relationship back together. One evening, as you sit together watching the sunset, Lewis turns to you, his expression serious.

"I've been thinking... maybe we should see a therapist. Together. To help us process everything."

"I think that's a good idea. We need to talk about the baby, and about us, and just everything we’ve been through." You consider his suggestion.

And so you start attending therapy sessions together. The first few sessions are difficult, filled with raw emotion and unspoken fears. But slowly, you begin to open up, sharing your deepest pain and hopes for the future.

"Grieving the loss of a child is incredibly personal and complex." The therapist explains. "It's important to allow yourselves to feel the pain, but also to support each other through it."

It took time, and you’re still not back to how it was before. Perhaps you never will, but you’re learning to communicate more openly, to lean on each other in moments of weakness. The road is still long, but each step forward feels like a small victory.

One night, as you lie in bed, Lewis holds you close. "We'll get through this," he murmurs. "I believe in us."

You nod, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I believe in us too. We just have to keep moving forward, one step at a time."

Months pass, and while the pain of losing your child never fully fades, you begin to find new ways to honour their memory. You plant a small garden in the backyard of your home in the UK, a place of peace and reflection.

Your relationship with Lewis continues to strengthen, built on a foundation of shared grief and newfound resilience. There are still difficult days, but you face them together, hand in hand.

You find yourselves always there, whenever you’re in the UK and one sunny afternoon, as you sit in the garden, Lewis takes your hand and looks into your eyes. "I know we'll never forget our baby, but I want us to keep dreaming, to keep hoping. Maybe one day... we can try again."

Tears fill your eyes, but this time they're a mix of sadness and hope. "I want that too," you say, squeezing his hand. "I want us to keep moving forward, to find happiness again."

As you sit together, surrounded by the blossoming flowers, you realise that while the road to healing is long, you're not walking it alone. Together, you're finding a way forward, one step at a time, building a new future from the ashes of the past.

A.N: i don't write cheating, but I felt i can write the request and add ny spin on it

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3

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tojikai · 2 days

Text

Sundered (Alt. Ending): CRUSH

Pairing: Gojo x reader - Toji x reader (this part)

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 5.8k

a/n: here it is! (it's late, sorry. not proofread too😭) im forever grateful to you all who waited and supported the sundered series and for supporting my other stories too. i cant do much but this means so much. ily.

If you never talk to him again, he will miss you forever.

“Do I not deserve it?” You asked him, almost flinching at your words when you promised yourself you’d never ask anyone that. Toji sighed, taking both of your hands and bringing them to his lips. “Not this. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be genuinely happy without sacrificing anything, without feeling spent.”

Your brows furrowed, trying to contain another flood of tears threatening to overflow from your already swollen eyes. Why does it always have to be so hard when it's you? When it was Satoru who tried to move on, he did with Naomi. You wouldn’t say it was a breeze for them but you just know it was never this hard.

Naomi and Satoru stayed together for a year, being the family you couldn’t give your child. And now you, you couldn’t even make it work with Toji. Why do you always have to feel stuck? Why does he refuse to take your hand and pull you out of this void that is slowly sucking you down?

Along with these thoughts, you felt a squeeze in your hand. “Y/N?” Toji called, “Y/N, it’s gonna be alright.” No, it’s not, you thought. The roof of your mouth tastes bitter against your tongue; so bitter that it burns. “It’s not. But it’s alright. I just don’t want you to feel burdened with this, alright?” You reached up to his face, eyes wandering.

“I’m sorry.” You felt selfish. You felt so selfish for not thinking about how this void of yours could pull him down with you instead of him pulling you up. You felt so selfish for wanting him to keep hurting just so you could feel safe. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I didn’t realize it would be this hard on you too.” Your throat feels tight all of a sudden.

You stepped away from him, sniffing as you wiped your tears away. You couldn’t remember what else he said, you couldn't remember how you ended up in that room alone, crying as you clutched your chest, blaming yourself for wearing out such a good man.

You couldn’t remember, or more like you chose not to carve into your memory how that day ended. The only image you can see in your head is how he cuddled you to sleep, woke you up to eat with him and the kids, and went home. You remember him saying that they could always visit. And you hated yourself for doubting him.

Now you smooth out the bed, rearranging the pillows and gaslighting yourself that you’ve been the only one sleeping on it all this time just so it wouldn't feel so unfamiliar. You changed the sheets and prayed you wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night, reaching for the man you love.

And the fact that this wouldn’t be the first time that you would do so…

You remembered how you would wake up and break down at midnights during the first few months of your separation from Satoru, weeping as you ran to your daughter’s crib just to remind yourself to be stronger, locking your phone away to not call and embarrass yourself in front of him and his then-new girlfriend again.

You heard the sound of the video your daughter was watching as she sat on the bean bag in the corner of your room. “Mama, look it.” You heard her tiny footsteps tap the floor as she ran to you, holding the phone out. The screen flashed with Toji’s caller ID, “Thank you, baby.” You kissed her cheek as you picked her up to sit her on your lap.

“Yeah?,” You answered, hearing a sigh from the other end. You pulled your toddler closer to you just as she started to move near the edge of the bed. You that your voice didn’t sound hoarse at all. You didn’t cry as hard as you did with Satoru, but it was painful enough that you had to pause some chores just so you could think of a solution to fix it.

You doubted there was a fix and if there was, you felt like Toji would only be trying out of pity for you.

You’re tired of that. You don’t want people to feel sorry for you anymore. You feel like you’ve been nothing but pitiful every year of your life. Your dad gave up on you and your mother, your baby daddy gave up on your relationship with him and now you feel like you caused Toji to give up on you too.

Your brows bumped together at the thoughts and you were quick to shake your head, hoping it would shed off the searing pain in your chest as well. You can't have self-pity when you have a child. You’re determined to be better for her. Your index finger found its place on your lips, listening to your ex’s voice.

“Just wanna know how you’re doing.” You wanted to laugh, not to mock him but because you don’t really know how to explain how you feel to him. You decided to answer it from the surface, “I am okay, surprisingly.” You sniffed, hearing a sigh from the other end of the line and a tiny laugh from Megumi, probably watching something on his iPad.

You would say it’s too early for him to call you, but this whole breakup isn’t even like the normal ones. You broke up for each other's well-being. Not because you fought, not because one of you cheated, not because you just started to hate each other. You broke up wanting only the best for each other.

“I know this is for the best.” You wanted to help Toji feel better about this decision. You could tell that there was guilt on his part. He probably feels like what he did was just an inch kinder than Satoru’s way of leaving you. That would eat him inside. The last thing Toji wants to do is shatter all your progress.

“I don’t feel the best about it.” There was no hint of amusement in his chuckle, no trace of smile in his words. You don’t even know if he meant to say he feels bad for doing this to you. You don’t want to assume that he’s not doing better away from you because you’re pretty sure he’s more relaxed now that he doesn’t have to worry about his girlfriend thinking of someone even when she’s with him.

“Please, don’t dwell on it. I, uh, I have thought things through and it’s… it’s just getting kind of lighter for me.” You blinked away each tear that came with the lies that are flowing out of your tongue. It’s not getting any lighter. If anything, the crushing weight is still continuously pressing down on you and you know any time soon, you might break down in this phone call.

“I don’t know if I can trust your words…” Aside from the fact that it has only been a day, Toji thought back on your last conversation before you broke up. He’s well-aware of your tendencies to push all of your feelings aside because you blame yourself for the fall of your relationship. You would probably shoulder all of this again, like you did with your separation from Satoru.

Toji isn’t all clean here but he doesn’t know how to get that to you. You can be very stubborn when it comes to these things especially when it concerns your past. It’s an unhealed part of you and Toji can’t help but feel like your previous arguments, his words to

you and how he made you feel contributed to it rather than alleviate it.

“Toji, this isn't good for me. For us,” You’re not talking about your relationship with him but it’s about him contacting you. “I know that we’re still good, we broke up to save each other,” you laughed half-heartedly, “Our kids are friends, of course, we can’t just throw that away, but for now…” You took a deep breath.

“For now, let’s give each other space. I’m not mad at you, I could never hate you but, Toji, this isn’t helping me at all.” The crack in your voice sent a blow to Toji’s heart, “I…I want to be able to talk to you, see you and visit Megumi with Yui without feeling the guilt of letting something so good slip away so, please...” You took a deep, painful breath.

“Let’s just give each other some space. Just until I have picked myself up again.” You covered your mouth, desperate to turn away from your child who’s been starting to glance at you. Toji’s silence felt like it could squeeze you, like a soundless bubble getting smaller and smaller around you.

“I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have called.” Of course, you’re not fine, Is he out of his mind? The voices in Toji’s head knocked sense into him as he realized what he did. How could he be so insensitive? Is it because he knows of his crimes, the source of his guilt and how he didn’t think it would affect him as much as it does now?

Now, even this breakup feels selfish. How could he just decide to leave when you’ve been trying so hard? He’s not different from your baby daddy—running away when they couldn’t handle the pressure, leaving you to clean up after the mess. Toji closed his eyes tight, clearing his head, begging himself to say the right words and make the correct decisions.

“I—I’m still here for you always, alright? Take care, Y/N. Kiss Yui good night for me.” He spoke slowly, fighting the loss in the empty space he’s staring at, absorbing your soft hums and apology as he continued, “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry, baby. It took every fiber in his baby not to say it like that. For your sake. And for him.

If you never talk to him again, he will miss you forever.

You put the phone down, feeling your daughter’s head on your chest as she stared up at you. Your mother once said that children do not understand these things yet but they feel their parents’ pain when it happens. And just like that, it’s almost as if your baby girl can read you. Her eyes says that she wants to help but doesn’t know how because she doesn’t eve understand it.

“Mama sad?” Her voice was small, it’s amazing that even at her age she knows how to try and soothe you. She knows that this is not the time to be playful without even knowing the situation. All she knows is that her mother is sad and crying. “No, mama’s just tired.” You smiled at her and for the first time she seems hesitant to reciprocate it.

“Mama sleep.” She got suddenly, bouncing her way to the spot next to you as she gets into a curled sleeping position. She’s a smart child. You laid down next to her, cuddling her small frame for as long as she can sit still but it wasn’t long before she was playing again, forgetting about it all. She’s still a baby after all. But this kid right here is the one who will always pull you out of the waters.

You wished that you could forget and get over this as quickly as this baby does, You wished it would all just fly out of your mind, that you could just throw up all of the pain out of your heart. You wished that you could just dust off the broken pieces of your relationship from your clothes, that you could scrub away the pain in the shower and watch it flow down the drain.

—————————-

“Look, I know Yui’s always been our priority but if you need a bit of time for yourself, you know you can leave Yui with me.” Satoru came earlier than expected. You can tell that he’s trying to stay inside the ‘boundaries’ as he struggled to find the right words to say about your breakup with Toji.

“You should take a break from work, if you think that’s what you need, I will-“ You placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. Satoru doesn’t want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation, that’s the last thing he wants to do. As painful as it is to admit it, he knows that you love Toji.

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You forced out a laugh, trying to make it better than how it really is. It’s clear to Satoru that you’re having a hard time. He could see it in your face, your eyes. Satoru remembered those times when he would do anything just to avoid looking at you and seeing how badly he broke you.

He was heartless for letting himself make you feel like that. He was stupid for letting you feel like that.

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You let out a laugh, retracting your hand away as you reached for the towel to wipe your daughter’s food-stained cheek. “Megumi and Yui still play together, I mean they’re besties now, right?” Yui giggled at the mention of her friend.

As much as Satoru wants to have another chance with you, he just doesn’t think he would deserve it just like that. Also, he doesn’t think he can see you like this everyday. Now he wants to talk to Toji. If it’s because of his interactions with you then Satoru himself would volunteer to give the big guy the assurance he wants.

It would be painful for Satoru but to see you so dull makes him want to give up his fight. If he even has some. His friends, mostly Shoko, already told him that he already lost all his chances. “You’re not a cat. You don’t get nine lives in this Satoru.” She would say and Suguru would quickly add “You used to have nine lives, actually. But you’re a dead man to her now.” It was playful but depressing talk but valid but…sad.

It was everything but playful to Satoru, no matter how much his friends tried to lighten up the delivery, it still felt like playing darts with his heart. Because he knows how much truth those words hold. He would smile and shake his head. His friends are never the ones to sugarcoat shit.

After saying goodbye to Y/N with his baby girl, Satoru can’t help but feel curious about your breakup. He’s almost a hundred percent sure that it’s Toji’s decision because of how you are right now. He doubts that you’d be the one to break it off. You’re a fighter, he knows that. He hates that you have to deal with these cowards of men who only know how to break.

But of course, Toji’s more deserving than him. That’s the bitter truth. Toji left for your good, while Satoru…just gave up on you back then. He will regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn’t get you back.

Get you back. He felt like a villain, hoping that you were the first to initiate the split. That would give Satoru so much hope. Thinking about why you did it (if you did), taunts him into assuming that maybe you still have something with him. But this isn’t right. No. Satoru should be better than this. Your happiness comes first. Even if it’s not with him.

Satoru swallowed the rushing mix of emotions that fogged his mind as he drives. It felt like swallowing needles, allowing them to go straight to his cracking heart. It’s almost impossible now, huh, to get you back? Even when you’re single again, it still feels impossible. Why is he even imagining it?

Shaking his head, he successfully parked his car, clapping his hands as he looked at Yui through the rearview mirror. “Let’s go now, my heart~” He sing-songed and the toddler eagerly reached up to him. “Tomorrow we go back to Mama, alright? She’s kinda sad, isn’t she? We gotta rescue that!” Yui cheered with him, despite not understanding what her father was saying.

Satoru knows that he can’t meddle with your relationship with Toji, no matter how much it bothers him. The least he can do is try to brighten your mood. Without any ulterior motives, of course. This is a vulnerable time for you. He doesn’t think he can stomach trying to get in through those cracks in your heart because of your failed relationship.

It’s not the right thing to do and that’s not what a good person who truly cares would do. He can only support you, but he doesn’t plan on taking advantage of this situation.

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

3 months later

It’s a blessing to be a mother. It’s hard too. Especially, when your daughter won’t allow you to have a break from your ex for more than three months. “Mama!” She screamed at the top of her lungs for the hundredth time that morning. “I just took your bag, let’s go.” You wished you could’ve taken a picture of her, standing as she held the door of her room open.

“You’re so big now, baby.” Her birthday’s in a few months and you feel like crying because it felt like you just gave birth to her yesterday and now she’s turning three. Time is a thief. You wonder if so much has changed with Toji’s life too. You wouldn’t be shocked if he’s got a new girlfriend. After all, Satoru only took a few weeks to find someone new when you broke up.

That fucking stings. You told yourself and if you weren’t holding your daughter’s hand and her bag you would physically clutch your chest. The thought of being so replaceable has been a constant in your mind since Satoru and Naomi.

And if it happens with Toji again, you’d probably just close the table for love. You drove to the park, a meeting place you chose for the kids. You don’t want to be in Toji’s house. You don’t think you can handle that yet.

You wondered if you’d be greeted by some new lady with him, like how Satoru received you with Naomi’s head on his chest. What if they play with the kids instead and leave you out of place during the whole play date? Or what if they leave you to watch the kids while they get some snacks, taking their time to play couple while you wait?

What if— A knock on your window broke off your train of thoughts as you took in your surroundings. That’s right. You’ve been driving and now you’re at the part. And now Toji’s shading his eyes, his hand arched over his brows as he tried to see through your windows. “Gumi!” Yui squealed, kicking in her car seat as Megumi waved from the outside.

Toji was holding him in one hand as his bag hang loosely on Toji’s shoulder. You rolled the windows down, gulping your anxiety as you thanked the heavens that none of the scenarios in your head came true.

“You spaced out.” He chuckled a bit awkwardly as he smiled at you. There’s something new about him. Did he really glow up after leaving you? You almost frowned but you gave him a laugh, trying to think of an excuse as to why you’re sitting absentmindedly in your car a few minutes before meeting with your ex and his child.

“I was trying to remember if I locked our door.” You laughed, gathering your things as you stepped out. “Can I hold that for you?” Toji offered as you opened Yui’s door. You thanked him softly, trying your best to seem relaxed. You don’t know if you should be glad or worried that he’s being so cool.

It could be because he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or because he doesn’t really give two shits about your relationship with him that he doesn’t even feel uneasy meeting for the first time after you broke up.

Or maybe because he’s already moved on to someone else, he just didn’t bring her with him because he’s a respectful man. You swore you heard a voice say it and it almost convinced you that it’s your brain that wants you dead. “Yui.” Megumi’s neck stretched as he looked over your shoulder for his best friend.

“Chill, man. Your long lost bestie will be free in a minute.” He still doesn’t fail to make you laugh. You put Yui down and watched the two kids adorably and messily hug. Now you’re glad that you taught them the importance of hugs.

“It’s cute that they’re still comfortable with each other.” You commented, pulling at your clothes as you tried to distract yourself from checking your ex out. You’re thinking hard to figure out what changed with his look. Aside from his forehead showing as the wind played with his dark hair,

“Let’s sit there, near the seesaw. They love that.” The kids were talking in a language only they understand, pointing at stuff before laughing as if it was the funniest thing they saw while to you, it looked like nothing. You would give everything to be a kid again. Just carefree and happy. But seeing your daughter makes you realize you wouldn’t have this any other way.

“How have you been?” He started as you sat down, hugging yourself as you looked ahead at the children. To be honest, you don’t know how to answer that. Do you tell him first that you miss him? Or do you tell him first that you got a clearer understanding of the holes in your relationship with him?

“I won’t deny that I missed you.” He chuckled leaning back. “But I did some reflecting.” He paused, glancing over to you, eyes traveling across your face. “A lot of reflecting actually.” He nodded, licking his lips. Right. That’s right, you thought, referring to his looks. Aside from his hair being longer, he looked…softer. You blinked away your thoughts, clearing your vision.

“I…I’m okay.” You don’t know how to tell him it could’ve been better if he was still with you. You wondered if your relationship problems would’ve been gone now if you didn’t break up. Would it have been better by now if you kept going? “I missed you, of course. But,” You laughed airily, “I’m getting better.”

You didn’t let your breakup with Toji affect you as a mother to Yui. But if you’re talking about yourself. You’re still trying. You have lived without Toji, of course, you can still keep going now. But your split felt like a crash from cloud nine. You’ve been so soaked with your happiness with him that when he left it felt like you were slowly getting drained and dry.

He walked you into a field of roses and when you returned to your old garden you realized how dull it was. Yui was your sunshine in those days under the dark clouds. She was a sunlight that went out of its way to bring a smile on your face. “It’ll get better.” You sighed, glancing at Toji and seeing the solemn look on his face. Does he feel sorry for you? Does he feel guilty for leaving so abruptly as your baby daddy did? Does he feel—

“It doesn’t feel any better for me at all.” Toji’s not one to hide the reality of his feelings from people he feels comfortable with. It melts your heart when you think about how he loosens up with you. It makes you feel special. Though, not special enough to fight for.

“It will. Soon.” You looked down. You know that it wasn’t his intention to make you feel as if you’re making him feel guilty for choosing his peace. But it still feels like it and you don’t know what to say anymore. I’m sorry? I’m sorry that you feel sorry for me? He nodded, smiling so softly. Charming, you thought. You feel sad for the people who don't get to see this. Yes, his smirk can make one feel things but this smile…

The day went by fast, Toji invited you to dinner since a restaurant was nearby but you politely declined. It’s not that you want to. It’s just that you have to. One thing that you learned from your heartbreak with Satoru is that the more that you see them, the deeper the shards cut.

“My mom’s coming over for dinner. Maybe next time.” Your genuine smile contradicted the lie flowing out of your lips. It was so tempting when he looked like this, but you have to stand your ground. Next time. The two words reverberated inside Toji’s head and that was enough to push aside the disappointment he felt when you declined.

“That’s alright. There’s always a next time.” It sounded as if he was reassuring himself, emphasizing that you’re fine with meeting him and Megumi again next time. This is enough for now. After all, he still has to reflect on a couple of things regarding your breakup. But everything always seems to be pointing him back to you.

—————————

“Just call me when you’re ready to go, and I’ll pick you up.” Satoru’s words before he left you and Yui earlier started to get twisted inside Toji’s head. Now that Toji has let you go, Satoru’s just waiting for your go signal so he can pick you up again. He swallowed dryly, faking a smile when you looked back at him, laughing at whatever the kids did that he didn’t see.

Time flew by fast but that image of you leaning towards Satoru so that he could give his daughter a kiss as he said that to you has been stuck in Toji’s head all day. The kids were drinking juice with small towels around their shoulders. “I can, uh, I can just drive you home, you know? I mean, so that Satoru wouldn’t have to drive all the way here again.” He suggested, wiping off some of the water droplets in his son’s body.

“It’s alright, he’s already on his way anyway and he owes Yui a kitty cake that they didn’t get to buy last time.” You smiled at him, before asking to leave to give Yui a quick warm shower. Toji would’ve wanted to chat a bit more with you. Just spend more time with you. He couldn’t ask for so much of it now. It felt like it would be too much of an imposition for him to do so.

After a couple of minutes, the doorbell rang and he placed Megumi on one of the rugs, reminding him to stay there so he won’t slip. He sighed, running to his gate, knowing that it would be Satoru and of course, since you’re still getting Yui ready, the polite thing to do is to let him sit and maybe, entertain your baby daddy a bit.

“Oh, come on in. She’s just getting Yui ready.” His voice was almost monotonous, the nod of his head was another way to be a bit more ‘friendly’ to the guy. “You a fan of iced tea?” Toji cleared his throat with Satoru following behind him. Megumi was still on the rug, staring off into space. Toji can’t help but laugh when Satoru waved a hand at his face.

“Yui Dad.” He looked up, waving his small hand despite the blank look on his face. “He really looks like you.” Satoru commented, “Except his hair.” Toji placed a pitcher on the counter, pouring a glass for the man, something he didn’t think he would ever do. “I’m glad you and Y/N are doing better,” Toji spoke after a couple of minutes of silence.

“Yeah,” Satoru nodded, holding Megumi’s hand as he tried to walk towards Toji. “We’re getting more used to this co-parenting thing. Figured out it was healthier for all of us when we’re not constantly arguing about something.” Toji doesn’t know if it’s right to say it but it already came out of his mouth before he realized it.

“The both of you single made it better, eh?” He didn’t mean it to start something with Satoru again, it’s just that that is the first thing that popped up in his head when he heard him. “Yes and No.” Satoru answered before he could even back it up with something lighthearted. “Me being single, yes. Because Naomi was basically a wedge, one cause of the problems that used to arise between us. And no, because no problem arises directly from you regarding those arguments.” He shrugged, taking a sip before continuing.

“Actually, I don’t even know why you broke up with her, if I’m going to be frank I trusted you with my family already, why did you even left her?” He’s saying a lot more now than before. Definitely a healthier man. And he seems like he’s back to his real self now. Toji might even assume he’s drunk if only you didn’t mention that he doesn’t handle liquor well.

“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, alright? I want you to love her because you truly love her, but come on, man, there’s no threat.” Yui definitely takes after her father. Very talkative, Toji thought. Inhaling, he gathered his thoughts and which aspect of what Satoru has said he should focus on, “I don’t know.” Was his short answer.

“I mean… I was worried. I don’t know if she’s really over you. I don’t want her to keep hurting by my side.” It was quiet. Satoru didn’t speak, allowing Toji to continue. “Plus, I fear that she will forever feel like she just comes second to my wife. To be honest, I feel that with her too. With you being her first.” Toji felt surprised at his honesty. He just hopes that you won’t overhear this.

“You’re the present. I’m her past.” It felt bitter for Satoru to say, “I’m starting to accept that now. I’m just contented that I can be with my daughter and that I take care of them even from the sidelines.”

But Satoru would forever wish it didn't have to be like that.

“I’m not playing matchmaker. I just want what’s best for her. Even if it’s not me, Toji.” He stood up, sighing as he heard footsteps coming closer. You came in struggling to carry a barefoot, laughing little girl, a towel and her bag. “Dada!” She screamed with a smile as she tries to get away from you. “You’ll slip!” You warned her and Satoru quickly went closer to take her in his arms.

Toji sat there for a minute more, processing the man’s words. The best for you. If he’s going to ask Satoru about it, he’d say that if he has to pick someone for Y/N, Toji will be a top candidate. Aside from the fact that he’s a good man who truly cares for her, he also easily understands your situation because he has a child of his own too.

It’s safe to say that right now, you’re the only man that Satoru feels is safe to leave his daughter and baby momma with. His past mistakes and horrible decisions put him in this place and the least that he could do to make it all up to you is support you and whatever makes you happy as long as it’s good for you and his child.

“We’ll be going now, thank you, Toji.” Only then has Toji realize that he’s been staring at the three of you now and his baby boy who’s trying to hug Yui as her father puts on her shoes. “Uh, yeah. Let me walk you guys out.” He licked his lips, blinking fast as he tried to snap himself back to reality. “Come on, Megs. After this, you take a bath, alright?” He picked him up, wrapping a towel around his body.

“Come again. Please.” Satoru laughed as the little boy waved, probably worried that it would take months for his little friend to come over again. “She’ll be back soon, bro. Chill.” That’s wild, Toji thought, He just called my son ‘bro’. Before you could even get on the other side of the car, Toji has made up his mind. “Uhm, Y/N.” You looked up at him, for some reason, eyes shining with what seemed to be…hope.

“Can we come over sometime?” Megumi’s little cheer made your smile wider, nodding at them, “Of course..” You felt like a teen, worried that you answered too quickly, “Anything for that ‘gumi smile.” You played it off cool but kept your eyes on Toji the whole time.

You didn’t hear anything about what he and Satoru talked about. But it was nice to know that they’re starting to get along. Inside, Satoru was fixing his daughter’s things, somehow glad that he couldn’t hear whatever the of two of you were talking about because no matter how happy he is for you, he’d always break into smaller pieces each time he saw you smile and look at Toji like that.

He knows. Because you used to look at him like that.

Albeit, crossed with pain and longing, you used to look at him with so much love. Overflowing. And then, along with the tears he caused. It felt like acid in his stomach, threatening to spill out of his mouth whenever he thought of what you went through because of him. But now you’re happy.

He didn’t know that love would show him that some people are worth being pulverized for.

The car door opened just as he pretended to find something inside the glove compartment and he swallowed the pang in his chest at the glow on your face. “Gumi, babye! Gumi, babye!” His child screams behind him, waving her hands back at her playmate. “You ready to go?” He asked you and you hummed, glee evident even in the small sound.

With that, the two of you waved at Toji and Megumi, pulling out of their driveway. You smiled at the shared nods between Toji and Satoru before speeding down the road to the bakery where Satoru usually buy Yui’s cakes. Your mind kept going back to Toji. Maybe you’re being delusional but you can’t help but feel like he had to gather the courage to ask you that very last-minute question.

He feels like a…high school crush.

And maybe he’s being a high school crush because a week later, he shows up at your doorstep dressed like a heartthrob with a kid in oversized sunglasses and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

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@kurookinnie @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @galaxyfever @guenievresworld @y2kcy3brz @chocokaylarobin @hopeannalea @shizuuuuuuuu @tojirin @teapartyspilled @ackermendick @shadowarchon @vinkiesz @awkwardaardvarkforever @nvvacanesworld @wolffmaiden @underburningstars @rntrsuna @vampgguk @doulcha @creolequeen11210 @reosnagi

#angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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luuuuucyscorner · 1 day

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮- 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧

Info: Tashi takes it too far with art and her protege

Tags: Angst I think? , Kissing, Tashi being a bitch, sort of reader x Tashi

Word count: 1,530

A/n: I'm rusty sorry if this is trash

Art and Tashi are greedy, and they know it. How else had their marriage come about, after all? If not greed, for one another—for different parts, different pieces, different people. And then, you had come along.

You'd practically dropped into their laps. Since Art had retired, Tashi had been itching for someone to sink her claws in, to sharpen raw talent into excellence. You—a pretty young thing, short-skirted and starry-eyed as you wielded your racket like a weapon in the Juniors Australian Open, to France to Wimbledon and all the way to a Grand Slam.

Tashi wanted you. Had to have you—and what Tashi wanted, Art wanted.

You melted like putty in their hands. Art's Career Grand slam was still fresh, and even if it weren't—you've known their names for as long as you've been able to hit a ball with a racket.

Its been a year since then, and under their tutelage; the world has become your oyster—the tennis world, anyways (which is the only world that matters). It's why, currently, you're sandwiched in-between Art and Tashi on the couch of a five-star hotel; TV replaying your game footage as Tashi gives commentary—harsh, but in-fucking-valuable.

Tashi's midway through an extensive analysis of your backhand, when her leg shifts and you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way her thigh presses into yours. Her words bleed away in the rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Art also seems more pre-occupied with kneading his hand in slow, tender circles down your back. It feels nice. Familiar. It doesn't help the way your thoughts are drifting, as if the two people crammed beside you are not literally married, and why would it matter that they're still leaning into your sides even though there's so much space on either side of the couch—

"Hey." Tashi's hand squeezes your knee, nails digging into your skin. "You want to be good or not?" She's sharp, scalding—but a smirk plays at her lips. Your cheeks burn. Art exhales, a low, breathy chuckle. Wife, husband and protégé.

"of course i do" you tell her nervously

'So easy', Art can't help but muse to himself, and his own eyes are drawn to the faintest pink flush of your cheeks. Tashi's face remains neutral. Her eyes fix on the screen. No expression, no expression. The only tells are in the slight, nearly imperceptible stiffening of her shoulders.

“So.” Tashi cocks her head, her dark brown eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “You’re not hitting as hard as you could be from your left side.”

"You know I've had an injury recently" you mutter.

“It’s been months.” There’s a tinge of impatience in Tashi’s voice now. “Do you want to keep making excuses, or do you actually want to fix the problem. Your game today was sloppy—your forehand needs work, L/n.”

your mouth presses into a thin line and you look away from her reservedly.

“C’mon, love.” Art tries to offer some semblance of assurance. His thumb strokes across the line of your shoulder blades, a touch that’s soothing and tender—but also possessive. Greedy.

Tashi’s nails dig just a little harder into your knee. “We’re only trying to help you out,” she adds. There’s a beat of silence. Then— “Do you think we like watching you lose, L/n?”

"I won today Tashi. I was good"

She scoffs sharply. “You were good? Don’t make me laugh. You know, I’ve seen your junior games. I’ve seen your first few grand slams since you started going big. This year? You’ve been—,” Tashi gives a short, dry laugh, shaking her head.

“You can’t even finish a game with less than five unforced errors. Your game today was so full of mistakes… it’s a wonder you even won the second set.”

She's still touching you. both of them are still touching you. tears begin to well in your eyes "I understand".

Tashi sees those unfallen tears, that first hint of fragility, and her expression hardens. “No, no, you don’t understand. You need to be hard—you need to be better. You’ve let too much get to you, L/n, and it shows in your game.”

"fine" you raise from the couch, their hands falling off of you, and walk to the door of the hotel, sitting in the hall outside.

They watch you walk out, and when Art makes to follow you, Tashi’s hand snaps out, latching onto his wrist. “Wait.”

Art raises a brow. The look in her dark eyes is hard and implacable as iron, with a hint of something dangerous flickering within. Tashi leans in, murmuring quietly so they can’t be overheard.

“It’s getting to her. You know it is. She’s too sensitive for her own good—not mentally tough enough.”

Then Tashi raises her eyes to Art's "she's like you"

At this, Art stills. The breath in his lungs hitches, his pulse stuttering in a flicker of panic. A million different insecurities and fears flash through his mind.

He manages a laugh—low, nervous—but Tashi’s expression remains implacable. It doesn’t even waver.

“She’s—she’s not like me,” he insists. "I made it to a Career Grand-slam"

Tashi scoffs again. “Yeah, on your second try. And Y/n’s on the fast track to the same. She’s good Art—great, even. But you know she’s not tough. You know she’s soft—she’s gonna break if we’re not careful.”

"if you're not careful" he says carelessly.

That makes Tashi give him a look, and it’s suddenly sharp, a little dangerous. The grip on his wrists tightens. “Art. Listen. You need to get tougher. Not just with her—you’ve gotten too soft, too. And that’s how you lose—that’s how you lose everything."

There’s something almost pleading under her words. Like she’s saying something more.

"cant you just let me be retired?" he begs, voice almost a whisper.

“No!” The word is sharp as a whip, and Art’s eyes widen in surprise as it rings out. Tashi stands, the line of her body stiff. Anger flickers in her gaze. “You don’t get to do that, Art. You’ve been retired less than a year, and you’re already slacking. Letting yourself go soft—slacking off on training, and working, and…”

She huffs out a sharp breath and turns away, clenching her fists. “I hate it when you do that.”

She turns away dismissively and Art walks over to the door and sits down next to you on the hallway carpet.

You're a pitiful sight. Curled up in the hallway of a five-star hotel, face buried against your knees, shoulders shaking in nearly silent sobs—and as Art settles beside you, the shuddering of your shoulders grows stronger, and your tears run more freely.

Wordlessly, he draws you into his embrace, wrapping you up in his broad, warm arms and pulling you against his chest.

Art lets you cry. Lets his hold tighten a little as you lean into him.

"I-I'm try-ing" you sob.

“I know. I know…shh…” Words soothe you gently, hands rubbing against your back and soothing the shivers in your spine in slow, tender circles.

Art's face is pressed into the top of your head, breath hot against your hair as you're half-curled into his lap. He's so careful around you, always, so gentle—because you're too easy to crack, too fragile, too inexperienced to know any better.

"We have to go back in" he mumbles into your hair, "We can't let anyone see you like this"

He doesn’t have to say the reasoning—it’s obvious.

If the press got a sniff of this? Of a junior player crying in the hallway? You’d be mocked to hell and back again.

Tashi would never let you live it down.

“Hey…shh, come on… it’s alright.” Art’s voice is soft and soothing. His breath is warm against your hair, every bit of him warm and gentle and caring.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, a gesture you could almost mistake for affectionate—if he weren’t married, and you weren’t his protégé.

You begin to calm down and allow Art to pull you gently onto your feet.

Once you’re standing, Art’s hands are careful, guiding you back into the room and onto the couch.

Tashi glances at you for a brief moment; there’s no trace of pity in her gaze or emotion. It’s cold, analytical—but you notice the way she takes in the way you’re tucked under the protective shadow of Art’s broad figure. There’s something like jealousy in her eyes for a moment.

"Tashi, I'm sorry." you mumble tiredly "If it's alright with you, I'd like to go to sleep now, I promise to get back on track"

Tashi’s eyes are still fixed on you for a moment before she gives a soft exhale, nodding. “Go.”

Art offers no opposition, and a moment after she’s finished speaking, he guides you out. His palm rests on the small of your back, a hand far too large to be that delicate but still moving with a gentleness that’s almost reverent.

He sends an appreciative nod to his wife as he leads your tired body into the bedroom and helps you position yourself under the sheets. He runs his fingers soothingly through your hair until you begin to drift off, sighing heavily.

#challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #mike faist #josh o'connor #tashi duncan #patrick zweig x reader #zendaya #tashi donaldson #tashi x art #tashi duncan x reader #angst

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taeghi · 2 days

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silver spoons | (m)

RELEASE DATE : SUNDAY, JUNE 2ND 2024

🦢 summary : in the shadows of old money elites, you've always felt like an outsider amidst the glimmer of silver spoons and whispered secrets. raised by hardworking parents on society's fringes, opulence seemed a distant dream until a scholarship to Sterling Academy opens the your dream's doors. there, amidst the marble halls and manicured lawns, you encounter jake, the enigmatic heir of one of the oldest and wealthiest families who lets you in in all the high society secrets. just be careful to not indulge in their world too much; since once you are an outsider, you are always an outsider.

🦢 genre : old money, angst, smut ;D

🦢 pairing : scholarship girl x old money!jake

🦢 word count : 30k lmaooo

🦢taglist : ??????

mdNi

#jake smut #jake #enhypen #enhypen smut #smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #hard hours #angst #jake enhypen #jake enhypen smut #jake x yn

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itsswritten · 3 days

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teeny tiny

Pairing: Fairy reader x Azriel

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: Azriel practices dwindling with you. (Just some fluff, mutual pining, pre bond snapping)

Wings Universe - read more from this couple here.

Azriel was watching you intently, a soft smile spread on his lips as his gaze danced across your expression. You were so passionate when you spoke about your work– your duty as a fairy.

A stark difference to how he felt about being an Illyrian.

But knowing you now for only a year, you had softened that perspective he had for his own heritage. Purely by how dedicated you were to yours, and how you lit up whenever you got to speak about it. Naturally, when getting to know the IC you had wanted to learn everything about the Illyrians, everything about the sisters, about Amren. Every finer detail.

That warm nature of yours, got even the most reserved opening themselves up to you. You were always genuinely interested too, mesmerised in the differences and similarities you found among your new friends. You would never scrimp on compliments either, lovely words rolling off your tongue in awe when Cassian had explained some Illyrian lore. You even went as far to admit that you’d always thought the dark winged fae looked very cool and fierce.

Azriel could vividly remember the heat filling your cheeks one evening at Rita’s when you’d admitted that, the faerie wine offering you some liquid courage. The comment had gone straight to Cassian’s head, prancing round Rita’s flexing in front of Nesta with a stealthy look, posing for her. “Look how fierce I look, Nes,” Nesta only rolled her eyes.

Azriel, though, had kept that comment. Tucked it away in the corner of his mind that he saved purely for you. A space filled with compliments from you, mentions of the things you loved, or observations of when he thought you looked especially beautiful– which truly was everyday. That corner of his mind was slowly growing by the day, bit by bit consuming him more and more. But he didn’t mind. For every new area you occupied in his consciousness, it replaced something dark instead. Those nightmares became few and far between after you entered his life, and he felt lighter, brighter.

A mark that could only be left by a radiant individual– you.

Ever since he’d met you, he was absolutely smitten. There was a magnetic charge between you both, that just couldn’t keep him away. He was like a moth to a light, fluttering so dangerously close that if he wasn’t careful he might just burn.

But he couldn’t stop. Despite the risk of it all, the risk of you burning his desires down. The obvious rejection you would undoubtedly give him if his feelings ever became known. So he settled for friendship, in fact savoured in it. He welcomed the friendly banter and familiar touches you so kindly offered him, but sometimes he dared to imagine…selfishly letting himself wonder, if he was to confess, would it really all go up in flames?…or would a warm glow await him instead.

Azriel began to look for the good parts of his own culture, an excuse to be able to share something with you. Little anecdotes of younger years with his brothers, the plants that grew in the harsh terrain of Ramiel, and what creatures may lurk in those mountains. Something Azriel noticed had piqued your interest.

He found you numerous times after that in the library with Nesta and Gwyn, looking through bestiaries and field journals. Your commitment to the land and its creatures never wavering. You had found old scriptures, thousands of years old, of rare creatures that roamed the Illyrian land. Feline-like beasts that apparently once lived among Illyrians as their companions, a familiar of sorts. You had practically barged into Azriel’s room one evening when you had unearthed this new information, kneeled on his bed sharing this new discovery word for word as you read the translated version Gwyn had given you.

“We’ll have to go look for them Az,” You had beamed, “It’ll be like an adventure, and well I could write it off as work too seeing as technically this falls under my jurisdiction.”

Azriel had never cared much for his own culture and myths, actually, had rather hated every aspect of it. But somehow, watching you find the beauty between the cracks changed something in him. Over time the dismal opinion he had of Illyrians and that part of himself, paired with the progression in the camps had made a slight difference.

Today though, today, you were sharing even more of your world.

“So I thought, you know with you already being able to winnow you would grasp this the easiest” you smiled at Az.

You had brought him to the edge of one of the night court meadows you usually worked at. Elain had asked to join you on a day's work for the spring season, once confessing she wished the cauldron had turned her into a fairy just like you. You had told her she was perfect the way she was, exactly who she was supposed to be, and promised her anyone of any kind was welcome in the meadows.

What was supposed to be a fun girls day with Elain had quickly snowballed into a field trip, the rest of the inner circle adamant they had to come too. But if your friends couldn’t master the art of dwindling then they would not be permitted in the meadows. Rhys and Feyre were fine, that unlimited pot of power they both possessed actually meant you’d caught them several months ago, rolling around in a flower enjoying some quality time together. You’re not sure who was more embarrassed, yourself or Feyre when Rhys clumsily fell out of a flower bell stark naked covered in pollen.

Before the others would be allowed to cross the threshold of the meadows you would need to teach them first.

“Dwindling is a lot like winnowing, how you move yourself to a different space. Or even how your shadows move you through space. It’s essentially the same, but it’s the space within you that’s moving…well smaller.”

Your hands had been spread wide in your explanation, bringing them closer together as if your movement were perfectly representing how it worked. Your brows furrowed though, as Azriel looked at you with a soft dazed expression. Almost glassy eyed with a dumb smile on his mouth.

“Are you even listening to me Az?” Your tone felt stern leaving your lips. A little huff following after, that got his shadows moving in a giddy manner. It wasn’t just Azriel that found you utterly adorable, but his shadows too had a hard time hiding how your expressions caused a stir in them.

How they basked in your laughter, grew agitated in your discomfort or selfishly, liked to relish in your charming pouts.

Azriel quickly shook his head, as if shaking himself from the daze you so often ensnared him in, “I’m always listening,” he promised.

You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth gently, pausing for a moment to take in his words. How it had struck a ripple through your body, that often created butterflies in your stomach. Glancing up through your lashes you took your friend in, his large strong frame towering over you, never in an intimidating way. No, his presence, however daunting to others, always filled you with safety and comfort you hadn’t felt around many. And there were those beautiful hazel eyes that often reminded you of the sunrise after you’d worked the night shift. Golden rays breaking through the midnight blanket, spilling hazel threads into petals of blue.

Maybe one day you would tell him how when the sky filled with ribbons of gold and sapphire, that you only thought of him.

Quickly you stopped yourself from falling into your own daze, remembering his passing words.

I’m always listening.

That he was. So attentive, so kind, you’re not sure what you did to deserve the friendship of the Shadowsinger. You continued on, brushing over how genuine his words sounded. Rummaging around in your bag you pulled out a pouch of fairy dust.

“This amplifies your power, makes it easier to shrink. Should also help with the nausea,” you muttered, now choosing to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you up.

It was getting increasingly hard to disregard the effect the Shadowsinger had on you. He was so beautiful, so pretty– in that rugged Illyrian way. And he was very thoughtful too, and there was the way he said things to you sometimes that made it hard not to assume it meant more. Every word felt like a whispered kiss or unspoken promise, that you found yourself at times hoping, and daydreaming that perhaps it did mean something deeper.

Sprinkling the dust over Azriel, his nose scrunched a little at the scent. So familiar, he realised it reminded him of you. That lingering scent of fairy dust was always on you, mixed with vanilla and hints of honey, an underlying breeze of peonies. Your scent alone was enough to enchant him, enough to know he would be dreaming of you again tonight. His consciousness would slip him into a blissful haze of what it would be like to envelope himself in the crook of your neck and laze in your aroma.

Gently you took his hands into yours, his ragged hands engulfing your own.

Azriel couldn’t help notice the stark contrast. How perfect and soft you were, delicate and light. He was rough and weathered around the edges, hardened by war and conflict. A gentle squeeze from you pulled him from his thoughts, realising how close you were now, he would only have to lean down slightly to bridge the gap between you. So close he could press his lips to top of your head and–

As if brushing that thought from his mind, his shadows moved towards you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, while the other tendrils wove through the air in between you both like a dance.

“Are you ready Az? Remember everything I taught you?”

He nodded.

Channelling his power in the technique you had shown him, his eyes fluttered shut. Honing in on the warmth of your hands and the faint sound of the breeze. His siphons simmered a glow as vibrations of power and space moved over the sharp lines and angles of his body, retracting and restricting the space within.

The air sounded different all of a sudden.

Vibrations growing louder, rustles becoming more powerful. Slowly Azriel opened his eyes, looking down at you, standing as you were before. He questioned if he’d even managed to do it, but as he glanced up he saw the tall green vertebrae of the grass tower above. The strands gently swaying in the wind, allowing the morning sun to filter through and cast viridescent shadows across the earth.

He had done it. He had dwindled.

The air was filled with a symphony of sounds, the song of crickets and the gentle rustling of the grass in the wind. Butterflies flitted by, leaving a gentle gust of wind in their wake. They were larger than him now, and he could vividly see the intricate designs and colours that lay on their wings.

“Az? Azriel are you okay? How do you feel?”

He hadn’t even realised you were talking, not until your hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, as you looked up to him in concern.

“I feel fine,” he replied, finally remembering to take a breath as your touch left him.

“No nausea? You looked a little peaky for a moment, I was worried,”

Your remaining hand had slipped from his gentle grip, a simmer in his chest wishing it would remain. But Azriel unfurled his wings, stretching the dark membranes out, distributing his weight onto either feet to check his balance.

“Okay…” You smiled then, “This went better than I thought, you know it’s Cassian I’m most worried about. I just have a feeling he’ll sneeze himself into a giant or something,”

“Wait, is that possible?”

“No, or at least I don’t think so. But somehow I could see it happening with Cass,” You laughed. The angelic waves of your laughter pulled up the corners of his lips as he let out a chuckle.

Oh Azriel could stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you, no one else in sight for miles.The sun basking it’s glow upon you both. Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence before you closed your eyes, head tilting up towards the sun as the rays washed over your face.

Azriel thanked the Mother again for the blessings he had received since knowing you, because this moment right here– to be with you was surely one.

“Y/n…” Azriel couldn’t help breathe your name out, it barely a whisper as words he kept tucked in that corner of his mind seemed to pile into his mouth.

Gently your eyes fluttered open, your expression turning to him with a light hum in question. But before he could even untangle the mess of confessions on his tongue, a shadow loomed above.

With a slight jump, you hastily stepped back, colliding into the tough warm frame of the Shadowsinger, craning your neck up to see what had cast such a darkness.

A shadow– Azriel’s shadow.

The smokey tendril seemed to loom over you both inquisitively. It’s movements speaking of a curiosity to how its master was now so tiny.

“There’s always one,” Azriel grumbled, his hand tenderly moving to the small of your back for a moment as he stepped to your side.

Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, his expression boring on unimpressed as he glanced up at the disobedient wisp.

“You’ve got no excuse,” Azriel chastised, referring to the other shadows that had obediently followed an appropriate size to him after dwindling.

The shadow slumped a little in response, eliciting a small gasp from you at how utterly adorable you found it. As if remembering you were there the shadow turned it’s attention. Azriel’s earlier command to resize itself held no authority but it quickly slinked itself slightly smaller for you. It’s size resembled something of Azriel’s shape as it twirled around you making the layers of your dress flutter up in the wind.

“Oh my…” Your cheeks heated a rosy hue as you attempted to hold your dress down in the gust of air.

“Sorry about that,” Azriel heaved, his patience growing thin as he tried to hide his slight embarrassment at his unruly shadow.

“It’s quite alright Azriel,” you reassured him with a light chuckle, the smile on your lips easing him. The use of his full name, raising goosebumps on his skin.

It wasn’t the only thing your smile eased, the shadow, as if melting under you, softened like honey. Oozing back behind Azriel’s wings in a dazed infatuation.

“Come,” you took Azriel’s hand in yours. Pulling him gently through the blades of green. “You should settle in this size for a while, make sure everything feels okay before we return,”

Azriel watched your fingers interlock with his, the smaller wisps of his shadows winding around your joined hands. Whispering words to one another that he couldn’t hear.

He swallowed hard, once, twice taking in the view before him. Your usual pink dress dipping to the small of your back, taut flawless skin kissed under the sun as you pulled him through the green. No wings on show, though.

He wondered when you would share that part of you…if ever.

Azriel would never ask, but he hoped one day you trusted him enough.

That he would be so lucky. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, sending him a soft smile that seemed to bury itself deep into his chest. He pondered, if for only a moment, that perhaps he was lucky.

a/n: just a little instalment from your favourite couple! <3 What else do you want to see from them?? (Other than flower sex , I promise this is coming👀)

forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan

Wings tags: @minaethrym

#azriel x reader #acotar #wings universe #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #fairy x azriel #azriel x fairy #fairy reader x azriel

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celestie0 · 15 hours

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff drabble no.1 third wheeling

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, an insane amount of edging, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. drabble #1

ᰔ words. 2.4k

a/n. hello!! welcome to my very first kickoff drabble :0 i’m reaaallyyy close to finishing ch10 (which tbh i might split into three separate chapters bc it’s fucking 30k words) but i just had this silly idea for a drabble that i wanted to write. i briefly headcanoned that gojo, mina & todo all hung out once before and had a trauma-dumping session, so i wanted to explore that haha. sorry if the writing is ehhh i just kinda knocked this out in an hour.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

timeline note: this is written in gojo’s pov, and it’s set between chapters 3 and 4 (so after reader first went to one of gojo’s practices for her film major assignment, but before the scene she walks in on gojo making out with shoko in that party bathroom. basically before gojo had feelings for her and also before they kissed for the first time)

—

“What? Why do you have to bring Mina?” Gojo asks as he holds his phone between his ear and shoulder, packing his duffel bag for his away game tomorrow. Oh well, unmatching socks for three days it is.

“Because,” Todo’s deep voice on the other end of the line buzzes with a frequency that is far too low for the mic of his phone to pick up with clarity, “she’s my woman, bro. And she wants to spend time with me today, too.”

Gojo groans as he zips up his bag, tosses it onto the floor nearby the door, and then flops onto his bed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those dudes that blows off his bros to hang out with his girlfriend.”

“Not blowing you off, the three of us will just hang out together. And trust me, Satoru,” Todo’s voice drawls, “when you feel the same way about a girl the way I feel for my buttercup, you’ll understand.”

Gojo scratches his eyebrow with his knuckles and grimaces with skepticism as he stares up at the ceiling. The puppy love he’s had to hear about anytime he’s talked to Todo since the day the guy started dating Mina has been nauseating to say the least, and he’s starting to wonder if he should’ve introduced the two of them in the first place. Maybe he’s just being bitter, but no one wants to third wheel.

But that’s what he finds himself doing anyways. Sitting at a brunch spot instead of a daytime bar because Mina wanted to drink bottomless mimosas instead of beer on tap.

“Can we go halfsies?” Mina purrs as she reaches over the table to Todo’s plate, attempting to steal a piece of steak off of it but Todo shakes an index finger in the air.

“No, princess, allow me,” Todo offers, sticking his fork into meat that was so well-done Gojo could physically see it recoil from the action. And then Todo is bringing his fork to Mina’s mouth, and she’s looking him dead in the eyes as she pops it in her mouth.

Gojo sinks further down into the booth, if he slid any further he’d be laying horizontal, and his leg is bouncing underneath the table with impatience and irritance. The waiter comes by to ask him how the food is, and he says great despite the fact his arms have been crossed at his chest the entire duration it’s been placed untouched in front of him.

“Why you sulkin’ there, pal?” Todo asks, mirth in his eyes like he knows he’s torturing his friend.

This doesn’t make any fucking sense. It was supposed to just be the two of them today. A bro’s hangout. They had important things to discuss, like Fantasy Football and their Hot Ones rip-off YouTube channel idea.

“Does this place serve anything harder than this?” he asks, uncrossing one of his hands to hold up the chilled glass of mimosa that was 90% sparkling wine and 10% juice, since he poured it himself.

“You can try a different establishment,” Mina shrugs as she chews. Which she’ll probably be doing for the next two minutes, because of the well-doneness.

Gojo groans like a toddler. Todo kicks his shin underneath the table. Gojo all but growls at him.

“Just because my lady here is not interested in talking about sorority orgies like you are, doesn’t mean we all cannot engage in meaningful conversation,” Todo says.

“When the fuck have I ever talked about sorority orgies?” Gojo hisses at him. The waiter who was coming by to fill up water most definitely overheard the topic of conversation, because he spins on his heel and will likely never tend to their table again for the duration of their stay.

Okay. Maybe he was being a bit too bitter. But truthfully, he’s never had a relationship like Mina and Todo have. Well, in honesty, he doesn’t really want one like that in the first place. He’s not too into lovey-dovey bullshit, but who knows, maybe someday when he meets the right girl, he might turn into that kind of guy, just like Todo prophesied. But right now, it just makes him grumble in…jealousy? Like, oh, look, one of my closest buddies is all lovesick on a Thursday afternoon with his girlfriend who seems to not mind at all that he has had a smudge of pan sauce on his cheek for the better part of the past ten minutes. Matter of fact, she finds it endearing. What’s that like?

And then he reminds himself he’s not looking for a relationship, anyways. He’s fine with what he gets from women, and he’ll leave it at that.

Todo tries to pick up the bill, and Gojo feels humiliated by it so he asks for a separate check. The restaurant doesn’t split bills, and he ends up paying for all three.

“Mm…this is where we had our first kiss, babe. Do you remember?” Mina sighs delightedly as she holds onto Todo’s arm, walking through trees into a secluded area of the city’s park.

Gojo trails behind, his hands in his pockets, grumbling annoyances to himself. He glances at the time on his smart watch. Practice in two hours. He wanted to kill time before then, but time seems to be going even slower now.

“I remember that kiss like it was yesterday, love,” Todo says with charm before kissing Mina’s forehead. Would it be inappropriate and petty if Gojo pretended to gag?

The couple settle down with memory onto grass near a tree trunk that’s located right in front of a sparkling lake. Gojo takes a few steps forward past them until the tips of his shoes dips into the water and he makes eye contact with a duck.

He hears a lighter click behind him, and he turns around to find Todo sparking the end of a fat blunt. He watches the muscle man suck through it before passing it to Mina, who does the same and then extends her arm out towards the lake to offer it to him too.

“Satoru doesn’t smoke, babe,” Todo tells her, “athlete drug rules and all.”

Fuck it. He walks up to them onto the grass and sits down criss-cross right in front of Mina, taking the joint from her and pulls his own share of smoke through his teeth.

“I’m surprised you smoke, Mina,” Gojo tells her, the air in front of him turning cloudy as he speaks, and he hands the blunt back to Todo.

“Occasionally,” she says, “oh gosh, don’t tell y/n though, she has this crazy fear about commercial weed having flesh-eating bacteria in it, and she’d kill me if she found out I’ve ignored all her fear mongering.”

Gojo blinks at her. “Why would you mention flesh-eating bacteria infested weed while we’re smoking?”

She shrugs. “Sorry.”

“This is nice,” Todo chirps in, “my best friend and my girl. All three of us hanging out together.”

“But you said I was your best friend,” Mina pouts, “and your girl.”

Gojo has run out of imaginary gags to give.

“I mean it, seriously!” Todo says, “two of the people who know me the best, sitting with me. I love you guys.”

Mina swoons and lays her head on Todo’s shoulder. For a moment, Gojo’s eyes soften at the sight. And he feels happy for his friend. And then he realizes Todo is crying.

“What—” Gojo stutters, jaw dropping and brows furrowing at the sight.

Mina lifts her head off of Todo’s shoulder to look at him, concern in her eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just—” Todo starts, tears streaming down his face freely, “all my life, people have treated me like some really macho masculine guy. All muscles, and bursting abs, and thundering thighs, and deadlifts over four-hundred pounds—”

“Okay, we get it,” Gojo sighs as he perks his elbow up on his knee and lays his head down on his hand.

“—but you two…you two see me for who I really am. I’m just a sensitive guy who craves connection,” he says through a macho sniffle, and Mina reaches up to wipe at his tears. “I appreciate that.”

Gojo purses his lips together in consideration of Todo’s words, and he reaches out to pat the guy on the thigh in reassurance. “Let it out, big boy.”

And he does. He softly sobs for a minute or so, and Mina is lovingly doting at him the entire time. And there’s that jealous pang in Gojo’s chest again. He ignores it by taking another drag.

“You know…Todo,” Mina chimes in softly, “I moved around a lot when I was younger because my dad was in the military…for as long as I can remember, I’ve had such a hard time making friends. And sometimes, I’d even get bullied for being different, and being the ‘new girl’ everywhere I went…”

Gojo shrinks a little from where he’s sitting, realizing that the two of them are opening up about their feelings.

“But I’ve felt so happy and at home at UTokyo…I got to meet you here,” she grins, kissing Todo’s cheek, “oh, and I guess I got to meet you too, Gojo.”

He gives a nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Mina’s laying her head on Todo’s shoulder again, peering off into the lake. “And y/n, she’s my best friend. From day one when I met her, she’s always been there for me. She’s never made me feel like I need to prove anything to be myself around her. I can just be, and that’s enough. Sure, sometimes she gets a little mad about things, but I know that she’ll always be there for me at the end of the day. I think she’s the first friend I’ve had where I really understand what true friendship is.”

Mina has tears shining in her eyes too. And at the mention of you, Gojo realizes he’s listening intently. Like he needs to know more.

“I’m really grateful I’ve gotten to meet the people that I have here,” she continues, “it really is a blessing to be seen by those around you.”

Her words hang heavy in Gojo’s mind, along with the haze in his head he’s barely managing to fight off, and he feels his breathing pick up.

The two of them suddenly turn their heads to look at him, and he blinks at them.

“Well,” Todo says, “it’s your turn, man.”

“My turn for what?” Gojo asks.

“To open up, silly,” Mina laughs as she wipes a tear off her cheek.

“I—“ Gojo starts, feeling like he’s been put on the spot. He glances at his watch again. An hour until practice. “I…don’t really have much to open up about.”

“Really?” Mina asks, “nothing at all? There’s nothing on your mind right now?”

“I guess not.”

“I find that so hard to believe,” Mina scoffs, “you’re the school’s star soccer player, the best player the division has seen in years, you’re a super popular hot shot that’s adored by all the girls, and all the guys wanna be you, too.” She continues to list off these facts of his life like anyone from a mile away could read him like a book, “surely you’ve got a lot on your mind. Pressure? Worry? Or maybe you’re just on cloud 9 all the time and thinking god damn, am I glad as fuck I was born this way. That’s okay, too. Shows you’re self aware.”

“Yeah,” Todo chimes in, “whatever you’re feeling is valid, bro.”

Gojo looks between the two of them. If he felt like he was third wheeling before, now he just feels like he’s in couple’s therapy. Except the couple are the therapists.

“Uh. I guess I feel pressure,” he finally opens up, “my dad played soccer, way back in the day, and I guess I want to honor…him.” The words feel bitter on his tongue, unfamiliar and strange, and for a moment he considers why words are said at all if most are left better unsaid.

“Mm…” Mina acknowledges him, “is your father still around?”

Gojo is shocked at the question, and he answers entirely on reflex. “No. He’s not.”

It just occurs to him that Todo of all people should at least know about his father. But the guy’s not a die-hard soccer fan like most people around Gojo are, and then there’s a sad sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that maybe his father’s legacy is gone, and this was the proof. Faded away, a career cut too short to make any real change in the world. The thought has his heart physically hurt in his chest.

“Okay,” Mina chirps in again, blunt like the roll of weed pinched between her fingers, when she speaks again, “so you struggle with having an estranged father?”

“Not estranged,” Gojo clarifies, feeling chill to his bone in spring heat, “he’s dead.”

The two of them become silent at his deadpan, and quickly steal a glance at one another before stiffening in discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Mina says, dropping her haze slightly.

Now he feels like he’s turned things sour.

“It’s fine,” Gojo waves his hand dismissively in the air, or maybe to break up smoke, “I mean, it’s not, but, it’s fine.”

“Well which one is it, bro?” Todo asks, “is it fine, or not?”

A question that has haunted him for years.

“It’s fine,” he assures them.

Conversation is normal after that, as he continues to watch Mina and Todo live in soulmate glory with stolen kisses and inside jokes that sound entirely way too absurd out of context, but the thoughts of his unsuccessful trauma dump don’t leave him. Not until he cracks a small smile at how ridiculously silly and cute a girl has to be to think that all commercial weed has flesh-eating bacteria in it.

——

[fast forward to tomorrow, game day]

“Choso,” Gojo walks right up to his teammate in the middle of the locker room while the guy pulls his uniform shirt on over his head, “gimme some of your urine.”

“What??” the dark-haired man guffaws. “Why?”

“Uhh I kinda smoked some weed yesterday, so I’m not going to pass the test,” he says as he holds his urine cup out to him. Of fucking course the one time he doesn’t adhere to subtance rules, they test for urine. “C’mon. Don’t be stingy with your piss.”

“Dude,” Choso looks him dead in the eye, “I was going to ask you for your piss. I went to a Joji concert last night.”

“What?!” Gojo gasps, “without me?!”

a/n: they blackmailed nanami for his urine

[the end]

a/n. LOL thanks so much for reading this if you did haha, it was fun to write in kickoff gojo’s pov, it feels like it’s been forever. the contents in this chapter are kinda sorta relevant for ch10, so i just thought it’d be fun to write about it. see you all in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

———

taglist: @megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed @wynney @delulux3 @higuramapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p @phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @thecaptainpandabear @beabadobeee @thexmistress @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @gabriiiiiiii @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @prince-wyiilder @btszn @izayas-rings @semra4 @gojosimp26 @ethereally-lyann @drthymby @luv4sae @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @banenemilk @scenic236 @nanasukii28 @aquaberrydolphin @spindyl @ri-sa20 @thexmistress @hojoslutoru @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @minidrake @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @sakui1 @angelicscribe @deluloser @new-weather47 @ayoluvly @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @threrealestpussyeater @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @inniesblog @dunghirse @muchlov3ashley @myawooooooo @berranurates @leclercwifey @piercethenun @lavender-hvze @satorkiees @ynishalee @vernasce-blogs @n1n1c @gojosukuna2268 @4y3sh4 @pngjpn @inmaki @iluvgetosuguru @imjustaweirdnerd @gojonegs @bigsimpo343 @obsessed-female @rintaswife @deluluforcarlos55 @hermitkerm @iwaizami-chan @dunghirse @fantasticpersonkitty @thatobsessedreader @v4mpieres @rotteneyess @sugurubabe @strawberrygirl0 @frankie-mercury @chilichopsticks @sakui1 @ricaliscious @stxrrielle @zazajy @dl-yum @leclercwifey @onilorian @geniejunn @bsaeshell @tiny0325 @simonexox0 @mmeerraa @elenion-et-al @luvbbydoll @13-09-01 @kazbrkker @saucypeanuttt @suneee @bnha-free-writing @sataraxia @invisible-mori @aristocrrat @lovebittenbyevans @lostinthe-jojos @fleetwoodhoe @iwaijimes @nerdyrandomfangirl @trafalgarrattata @magnoliamonsterthing @samistars @certainlysyko @strangehuman101 @luvbbydoll @yuki-jjk @whereflowerswenttodie

hope u guys don’t mind me tagging for drabbles too :””) please let me know below if/when your taglist preferences change!! thank you

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deebris · 3 days

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The Mysterious Visitor II

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: The unknown child evokes conflicting feelings in Bruce Wayne, who once again finds himself needing to deal with Talia's life problems. The girl only wanted the simple desire to see her brother again, unaware of the danger she had put herself into on her journey.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned; this will have a third, and hopefully final, part.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: I feel like maybe I could have developed a more emotional scene between Bruce and the reader, I also want to delve deeper into her thought process, but I hope to make up for that in the next part. I like it when you guys tell me what you want to happen next, it gives me ideas. Please, go ahead and do that. That was my first time making a tag list, so I apologize if I didn't do it correctly.

Part I

Alfred could finally check the exact time now that he was standing in front of Bruce's room, admiring for a few seconds the clock in the corridor's decoration, which showed 4:17 am. He prepared to knock on the door, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind: would it be more rational to wake Damian instead of his father? Throughout his life, he had faced unusual situations thanks to the Wayne family; hardly anything would shake him now. His concern, however, was not for himself, but for Bruce.

Talia was a persistent shadow in Bruce's past, still haunting him, and although he had tried to convince the butler many times that the only link he had with her now was because of their son, Alfred still doubted it. Their relationship had been complicated in many ways, either because of her ambiguous nature or Ra’s al Ghul's insistence on trying to persuade Bruce to join the League of Assassins, making Alfred fear that Bruce's morals might deviate because of this passion at the time.

Alfred raised his fist to knock three times and waited patiently as was his custom, but it seemed that was not enough to wake his master. He knew the door was open and knew he was allowed to enter without knocking, so just this once he used the liberty the young man had given him over the years; because in the end, Bruce Wayne was just that, a young man, and would always be seen that way by him.

Inside the room, he turned on the light, and the intense glare made him close his eyes to avoid the sting of the brightness. Approaching the bed, he sighed at the sight of Zolpidem pills left on the nightstand. This had been the only way Bruce found to stop spending sleepless nights, reluctantly since he was too stubborn and preferred to patrol in the darkness. Waking him would be a difficult task.

"Master Bruce," he called, waiting for a response, but got nothing. Alfred felt sorry for waking him, seeing how he finally seemed to be resting. "Master Bruce," he called again, this time nudging his shoulder. The pills must have been wearing off because he started to stir on the mattress.

"What’s going on, Alfred?" Bruce asked in a hoarse voice while rubbing his eyes to relieve the discomfort from the lamp. He sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headboard, blinking several times to see the butler in the corner. One of the room's curtains was open, and he saw the snow falling outside with the dark sky, showing that it was still night. "Is it Hugo Strange? Has he shown up somewhere?"

"Unfortunately, or fortunately, no, sir." Alfred paused, then licked his lips, preparing to continue and finally revealing, "There's a young lady downstairs who claims to be Master Damian’s sister." Direct, as always.

"Sister of Damian?" Bruce repeated the information, still not fully comprehending its meaning. He needed some time, just standing there absorbing the words. It seemed to be taking an eternity, but Alfred wouldn't interrupt the moment of clarity he was having.

He squinted, pushed the covers aside, and picked up the shirt he found nearby. Buttoning it up and getting out of bed, he continued, "When did this happen?"

"Just now, sir."

"Did Damian bring her here?" The question had a bitter tone but never crossed the line of respect that was drawn between them, and Alfred knew he should prepare for his interrogation. Bruce saw the alarm clock and, like the butler a few minutes ago, checked the time. "He never mentioned anything like this."

"Nor to me." Alfred suddenly extended a coat for him to take. Bruce held the fabric between his fingers, confused. "This coat is hers. There’s a map of Gotham City and a letter inside. I recommend you take a look at the addressee."

Pulling the papers from the right pocket, Bruce noticed a map folded into many smaller parts and a letter witch was still sealed, though the corners were noticeably crumpled and marked by small fingers. Carefully analyzing the cursive handwriting, he read. "I had no idea Damian still had contact with his mother. Much less that Talia had a daughter," he said, still drowsy, staring at the name 'Talia Head,' to whom the letter was addressed and recognizing his son’s elegant handwriting. Apparently, she still used the alias surname.

"It's not surprising considering you only discovered your son after so many years." The statement could have easily been interpreted as irony, but it was acidic. "She didn’t seem sure Damian lived here; I suppose she found out because of this letter."

"You left her alone downstairs?" he ignored the previous comment.

"I left her in Master Dick's care."

Bruce stared at him for long seconds and hurried out of the room. Halfway down the stairs, he could already see some glimpses of Dick's hair over the back of the sofa, talking to someone, or rather, laughing with someone.

"Dick?" The voice quickly caught his attention, turning his face to see his father approaching. When Bruce stood in front of the fireplace, he could finally look at the child beside the boy. Dick began to say something, but Bruce couldn’t hear.

He stared at the girl, analyzing everything about her, from the way she intertwined her fingers nervously to her deer-like eyes. Her iris were shining, as if she had cried, and her swollen and bruised lips were quite noticeable. She had definitely been outside not long ago, shaking and rubbing her hands together constantly to warm herself up. She seemed too sweet, but Bruce knows that appearances can be deceiving.

His gaze passed over the pendants hanging from her bracelet, a simple detail that caught him off guard. Two crossed swords and a demonic head, he understood well what they meant; they were some of the symbols of the League of Assassins, the third was a simple "T" surrounded by a moon. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Talia was a possessive woman and he knew that the "T" was her way of marking property.

"Her name is Y/n," he heard Dick say after a long time.

You noticed how this man's eyes went dark while he watched you and couldn’t help but shrink back on the sofa. It was impossible to hold his gaze, and you began to feel ashamed of being stared at for so long.

"Y/n, this is Bruce Wayne."

"What do you want?" That came out ruder than he intended, but his aversion to the League of Assassins stirred a certain anger. The idea that this could all be a trap crossed his mind. You might be young and exude innocence, but you must have enough understanding to participate in their malicious plans.

"I just wanted to see my brother," you said with sadness in your voice, questioning yourself if this whole situation was worth it. Bruce knew the best way to confirm if this was all true would be by his son’s word, but the signs were so explicit that it might not even be necessary.

You don’t look anything like her, at least at first glance, but you wore her favorite colors and clothes so perfectly matched that no girl your age could choose yet, exactly to Talia's taste and with the appropriate youthful touch for your age. The pendants, the cut of your hair, literally everything had her touch. It was impossible for anyone to convince him otherwise.

"Go get Damian." He said, and Dick understood that the message was for him. Bruce needed to make sure you were telling the truth, or at least needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous. This could still be a League scheme or some plot by your mother.

"Can I see him?" Your voice was the loudest you had spoken that night. The excitement was clear, and it was so much that irrationally you stood up to follow Dick, but a calloused hand suddenly wrapped around your torso and stopped you, making your back hit a slightly prominent belly. You looked up and saw the old man again, his expression was not happy, and you realized it was directed at Mr. Wayne, who had an arm extended towards you but that never managed to touch you.

Like his face, his arm was tense, with visible veins and contracted tendons. You didn't know what his intentions were, but by the way the old man grabbed you to prevent him from laying hands on you, maybe he wasn't as good as he or Dick. It was a very scary sight., making you feel that this man could be dangerous. Trusting the old man, you turned to hug him, hiding as much as possible. Mr. Wayne’s aura was dark, very unfriendly, but you still saw how he recoiled with his face displaying a certain sense of regret.

Dick noticed Alfred's sudden movement behind him before he could leave the room. He glanced at their faces and for a moment considered whether it would be appropriate to turn back and mention the conversation he had with you to the butler in secret, but then his eyebrows furrowed thinking of Damian. Maybe he should confront the little demon first.

"Don’t do anything stupid, Bruce." Dick thought.

Frantically he knocked on the boy’s door. One, two, three, four times until he lost count. At no point did he hear any noise inside, so he began to turn the doorknob, only to find it was locked.

"Of course he’d lock it, that brat..."

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Tim's bedroom door behind him opened abruptly, making a sliver of light from inside illuminate the opposite wall. He was obviously irritated at being woken up but still had that tone of seriousness he carried most of the time.

"Where's his room key?" Dick completely ignored his brother's attitude.

"Forget it. I heard him sneak out to patrol again." Tim's voice sounded tired.

"And you let him?!" Dick snapped but reminded himself to contain it, remembering that Jason was sleeping in one of the rooms in that wing and that you three downstairs might hear the commotion. "Why didn’t you stop him?"

"And what good would it do? That boy is too stubborn." Tim tried to defend himself. "Besides, I have his location right here. He’ll be fine." He opened the door a bit more to show one of his computer monitors tracking the trajectory and heart signals of a green dot on the streets of Gotham City.

Dick looked both ways down the hallway before pushing Tim back into his room and closing the door.

"Hey, what's this? Why are you acting so weird?" Tim was startled by Dick's unusual behavior, feeling anxious as he watched him go to the computer to check Damian's exact location, observing the dot on the screen moving. Dick pressed a button, likely an emergency notification to get Damian to return home. Then he turned to Tim, gripping his shoulders and looking at him with intense seriousness.

"Tim, what I'm about to tell you might be a lot to take in, and I need you to try to understand as much as possible." Dick pointed a finger in his face, waiting for confirmation.

"You're scaring me like this. What the hell happened?"

"No questions and no interruptions! Understood?" Dick's tone was authoritative, stepping back only when he saw Tim nodding affirmatively.

"Why the hell is everyone awake downstairs? Did someone die or something?" Jason barged into Tim's room without ceremony, trying to make a joke, but when he saw the ghostly expressions on their faces, he quickly shut the door again, this time with him inside the room. "My God," he exclaimed in shock. "Can I join in on your little secret?" he asked ironically.

"Did you see the girl?" Dick asked Jason nervously, with a certain expectation.

"Yeah. I saw a girl with Bruce and Alfred. But they didn't see me, since I went back upstairs. The mood down there is pretty tense." Jason threw himself on the bed, making the mattress bounce and Tim frown in displeasure. "I think Alfred is going to give him a lecture afterwards."

"She's Bruce's daughter."

Jason propped himself up on his elbows, and Tim had to sit in the computer chair. His mouth formed a perfect 'O' as he struggled to believe Dick's words.

"With who this time?" Jason seemed to be reacting better than Tim to the news, even letting out a light laugh. It was a typical, caustic Jason response.

"That's not all." Dick ignored his comment. "She said she's Damian's twin."

Tim let out a short whistle, processing the idea like a complex calculation. "Tell this story from the beginning, Dick. Why did she show up now?" He finally managed to rejoin the conversation. It took a while for the shock to pass, but now he had his usual rational demeanor.

Dick rubbed his hands over his face, trying to recount the night and organize the information. "Apparently, she doesn't even know Bruce is her father. And he doesn't know about it either."

"Damian also never mentioned having a sister."

"Damn. Hiding one kid for a decade is something, but two?" Jason stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, a strange sensation taking over the room. But seeing the melancholic expression on Dick's face, his curiosity grew even more. "What else do you know, huh Dick?" He questioned him, sensing there was something much deeper behind this, and his brother just gave him an enigmatic look.

"She said she came here to see Damian. That she found out where he was because of a letter he wrote to Talia..." Dick suddenly froze, pulling a little box from his pocket as if it were a dangerous bomb. "While we were talking, she said a man had helped her get here. He gave her a map and asked her to deliver a present to Bruce, but she gave it to me to deliver." He handed the beige little box to the two, but it was Tim who took it.

Whatever it was, it was very well wrapped.

"Is it right to open it?" Tim asked. "I mean, it's for Bruce, isn't it?"

"I already opened it." Dick said bluntly. "I thought it might be a trap, I was careful."

"Give it here." Jason took the small box from Tim's hands. It was the same size as an engagement ring box, perfect for carrying in a pocket. He pulled the lid off and took out a card, freezing when he read it.

"What does it say?" Tim was curious, taking the card from his hands and reading it out loud:

'I sent your daughter home as a demonstration of my benevolence. Merry Christmas, Batman. Signed, H.S.’

"Holy shit," Jason exclaimed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That bastard figured out Batman's identity."

"Even worse: he knew about her before we did." Tim added reflectively, his voice barely a whisper. "That means he knows much more than just Batman's identity. He might know other things, including our identities. He probably suspects we are also vigilantes."

"I want to hear the whole story properly." Jason's intensely serious voice broke the silence that had settled in the room, determined to fully understand the appearance of this girl and how she got involved with Hugo Strange.

Dick took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Alright, here it is. Minutes ago, Alfred and I woke up because a girl showed up at the manor claiming to be Damian's sister. She told me that she had a map of Gotham and a letter addressed to Talia from Damian. Alfred brought Bruce to her, and then I went upstairs to call Damian, but I discovered that he's out on patrol. And now we're here."

Tim interrupted, "Wait, so Damian's been in contact with Talia and didn't tell us?"

"That's what it seems like," Dick confirmed, rubbing his temples. "The girl didn't even know Bruce was her father. She mentioned that a man helped her get here and gave her a map along with a present for Bruce."

Jason leaned forward even more. "And this man was Hugo Strange."

"Not xactly, he could have sent someone else." Dick nodded. "The present was that card. Strange knows about her and about Bruce being Batman. He sent her here as some twisted gift."

Tim, processing the information, asked, "Did she say anything about why Strange would do this? What does he gain from sending her here?"

"She didn't seem to know much about Strange's intentions," Dick replied. "She just wanted to see Damian. But it’s clear that Strange knows a lot more than he's letting on. He must have some larger plan in mind."

Jason clenched his fists, his anger palpable. "So, this girl is just a pawn in his game. We need to figure out what his endgame is."

"Agreed," Dick said. "But first, we need to make sure she's safe and find out everything she knows. We also need to talk to Damian and see what tell us about all this."

Tim nodded, adding, "And we have to stay vigilant. If Strange knows this much, we can't underestimate him. He could have more moves planned."

Jason stood up, his determination evident. "We need to get to the bottom of this before anyone gets hurt."

"But what about Talia? Did she just let her daughter go out there, be deceived by a stranger, and then simply come here?" Tim pointed out. "And you, Dick? Are you going to tell Bruce?"

Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on the window glass was heard. The three brothers turned their heads to see Damian, clad in his Robin attire, asking to come in. "Open up already, you idiots."

Tag list:

@lafrone @sylum @mileskisser @belowbreadcrumbs @riddle-me-im-sirius

@rafa-the-beautiful @shehrazadekey @fairuzwhat @bedeater @arianapjs

@idonthaveanameforthisacc @azulawayne @nciolisa @lovelywritersgarden

@spideybv28 @faimmm @formula-space @cherry-peach-flavored

🍒

@nebuluma

Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune

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noyoudidntbye · 2 days

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They see you. They love you.

That just might be enough.

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 23 hours

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AO3 is wild because it’s the only place where you’ll see an author’s note that reads, “sorry, guys 🥺 English isn’t my first language” and the fic they wrote is a 100k-word-long of the most professionally written slow burn enemies-to-lovers with intense angst, heartbreaking tragedy, heartwarming humor, incredibly drama, shocking plot twists and the most beautiful dynamics with depth and complexity between the characters that made you laugh, cry, blush, kick your feet, hold your breath, dig your nails into the pillow, cry some more and smile to yourself like an idiot, and you’ll think about how insane it is that the author wrote the whole thing in their free time. for free. out of pure love and passion they have for these characters. and how it’s not only better than canon — how the author doesn’t just understand the characters better than what they’re given in the piece of media they’re originally from — but also better than some of the best selling novels you’ve read. just wild.

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skyenish · 3 days

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Nothing’s new | Kalim al-Asim animatic |

———

(This is an old animatic I forgot to post, so I’m not very happy with the art, but I’m too lazy to polish it up)

———

I thought it was fitting, you know, to match Jamil’s ‘nothing new’ animatic I made. It’s sad really that the phrase “nothing’s new” fit both Jamil and Kalim so well.

Kalim is used to betrayal, he cant trust anyone, but he had always believed or hoped that Jamil would be the one person he could trust. Only for him to then backstab him like everyone else. As the song says, he’s not naive; he’s been here before. He wanted to trust, to believe in Jamil. I think he spend many hours crying to himself, replaying the events of book 4 and earlier, wondering what he should’ve done to change what happened, what went wrong, what HE did wrong. And in the end he, again, has no one.

———

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sarathrwizard · 16 hours

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Out of the Blue... Part 12 (final)

Well, that's it! Leo and Donnies bond is now stronger than before this whole situation.

Previous <×> ...There's no other part. 0_0

#rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph #rise mikey #rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #saverottmnt #out of the blue comic #fanfiction #comic #angst #disaster twins #brotherly love #care #comfort #happy #Sad

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ghost-bxrd · 3 days

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Working a bit on the Tim piece ✨ (Speak No Evil)

#work in progress #Tim drake #Timothy Drake #Robin #Red Robin #art #wip #drawing #illustration #digital art #painting #Batman #batboys #angst #fanart #batfamily #Batfam #Jason Todd #Red Hood

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smokedscarlett · 2 days

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late nights

summary: a small argument between spencer and the reader. the reader is bothered and stressed and spencer, at first resists, but then understands.

warnings: angst - > fluff, cursing, mentions of spencers job but no case particularly, if there’s anything i forgot please let me know! (some us of y/n).

word count: 1.1k

You sit on top of your kitchen counter, legs swinging back and forth. You glance behind yourself and read the stove clock that reads a blaring 2:38. It’s understandable that you’re boyfriend Spencer wouldn’t be home at this hour, his job requires this of him, often leaving you to spend nights either waiting for his arrival or leaving out sweet notes for him to come home to as you curl in bed. However, tonight was different, well at least you felt different. Something in your mood caused you to be a little less then understanding about his late comings. All your friends tell you cute stories of date nights with their boyfriends and while you and Spencer do spend time together, you can’t recall the last time you went on a “date.” It isn’t your fault that you feel jealousy brewing in your stomach towards your friends every night. It is normal to feel a little neglected even though you knew the job requirements. You just need to remind yourself of this when Spencer walks through that door. Put on a brave face and act as though eating leftovers by yourself and your comfort show being your only company is an enjoyable night.

Tonight that reminder was forgotten.

The apartment door knob slowly turned and you got off from your seat on the kitchen counter. Spencer tries to sneak his way in, unaware of the fact that you are indeed awake.

“I’m awake,” you say, you can hear the edge in your voice.

“Hi (Y/N). You should be in bed by now angel, early morning tomorrow right?” Spencer questions his voice soft.

He seems relatively calm and not at all unnerved which isn’t what your expecting due to how late he arrived. You would assume that a case that takes this long wouldn’t leave Spencer in such a light mood.

“Good case today?” You ask, not responding to his previous comment.

“Actually, there was no case today. I got caught up in some paperwork and couldn’t stop myself from wanting to finish it.”

Your heart drops at this. As you were sitting here, alone and a little sad, your boyfriend was sitting at the bureau on his own accord doing paperwork.

“Oh,” is all your are able to muster.

Spencer finally looks up fully at you, before being distracted from putting his belongings down and taking off his shoes. His face reads a questioning expression as he tries to read your mood.

“Is something wrong,” he asks.

You try to refrain yourself and you try to be the understanding girlfriend, but the stress of this week has finally caught up to you, leaving you with inability to fake it for Spencer.

“You know I came home today to an empty cold apartment. Certainly not a rare occurrence but for some reason I really didn’t feel like eating dinner by myself and hearing about my friends dates with their boyfriends. I wanted to be with my boyfriend. But no, I understood the job calls and there’s nothing I can do to change that. To find out after all this that you fucking chose to stay at work late,” you feel anger rising in your throat as you cut yourself off before saying something you might regret. “So yeah Spencer I would say something is wrong.”

Spencer seems to be taken aback by your words, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to read you more.

“But it’s fine I don’t want to fight and I want to sleep,” you say quickly before he says anything throwing your hands up and starting your walk to your shared bedroom.

Spencer is quick to follow you and knowing him, this conversation is far from over.

“I’m sorry, sometimes I get caught up in my own world. I wish you would have told me you were feeling this way,” Spencer says trying to calm your anger.

Some part of you knows that he is right and you should have told him but another part argues that if Spencer can profile a stranger how could he not profile you. How could he not notice the loneliness you must be feeling.

“The last thing I would expect from dating a profiler is having to tell them the most obvious details of my life,” you respond, turning around towards Spencer quickly.

“That’s not fair.” Spencer doesn’t provide any further argument.

So you simply nod your head and crawl into bed, tucking yourself to take the least amount of room on the bed and face away from Spencer.

“Baby.”

You hear his soft voice say with a light sigh. He knows what he’s doing. Against your own will, you turn around and look at him with tears sitting on your waterline.

Without saying another word Spencer holds out his arms. You fight the urge to laugh slightly to yourself knowing that Spencer would rather die then hug you in bed with his outside clothes on, even in the midst of a fight.

As a form of compromise you pull yourself out of the sheets and into his arms. His lips are immediately on the side of your head and he is peppering you while whispering soft apologies.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, “ he places a kiss on your forehead, “Have I mentioned that I’m sorry.

You laugh slightly, still not able to form words.

“You’re right this is something so obvious I don’t know how I could have missed it. I promise I will make more time for us.

At that all you can do push yourself further into his chest and sigh.

Spencer finally pulls away to look into your eyes and double check that your tears have stopped. As on slips, he reaches out his finger to gently swipe it.

“Are we okay?” he asks quietly.

“As long as you promise not to choose to stay at work late,” you respond trying to make the air lighter.

“Always,” he says seriously.

As you stand there with his hand on your cheek, staring in each others eyes, Spencer suddenly wraps his arm under your legs and carries you bridal style.

You shriek at the sudden movement. “Spencer!”

“Shhh angel the neighbors are sleeping,” he teases.

You swat his back as he carries you towards the bed once again. He gently places you down before going to bathroom to quickly get ready for bed. When he returns he finds you sprawled on the bed in half-asleep daze. He sinks down into the bed, pulls you close to his chest and kisses the side of your forehead.

“Go to sleep now, we have date tomorrow,” he whispers in your ear as you both slowly drift off to sleep.

a/n: this is my first every post so hii if u made it this far. any interaction is very much appreciated!!

#spencer reid x reader #reading #x reader #imagine #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #first post #angst

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hidtired · 2 days

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Poison For Some

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Your deathly allergic to nuts and dinner in the prison leaves you running for medicine. Your abrupt departure confuses everyone, until your partner Daryl remembers of your allergies. Now it was 24 hours and you were no where to be found.

5.9k words

This runs personally in my life and will be based on my own allergies. It’s different for everyone but, this is mine. [Angst and Fluff]

Carol had made dinner like she did most nights. Winter approached and Rick was trying to put off using the canned goods for as long as he could. So, Carol decided to try and fill in some protein with almonds. She put it in the rice mixing it to whatever meat scraps we last had. Daryl was off in the shower at your demand. He had been hunting a lot more often trying to gather as much meat before winter. Coming back to the prison somehow dirtier than the last, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had rolled around in dirt for how much it cover him.

You sat at the table as Carol handed out portions. Glenn and Maggie were talking about a run they should make for Judith. Little thing needed more appropriate winter clothing. You told them you would go with, so you were just listening to their planning. The steamy bowl placed in front of you sent you happily smiling and thanking Carol for the food. Carol jokingly jabbed at you, “Swear the only way I could ever get a smile like that from you is food.” You scoff digging your spoon into the bowl and shoving it into your mouth. You talk with a mouth full,

“It’s the best way to my heart!”

You chew feeling a unique piece in your mouth. Thinking maybe the rice clumped together. Carol brought you from your thoughts, “That’s why you got yourself a hunter I see.” You chuckle at that, eyes moving to your bowl. You pushed it around spotting what you felt in your mouth, it was something pale. You swallowed the growing saliva in your mouth. Realization hit you like a truck, you sprung up from your seat in a panic. Almond peal off, something in the past you had learned the hard way had nuts in it.

You had never had to use an epiPen before, Benadryl was always what you had to chug before a epiPen was ever thought of. A mental clock started ticking. You didn’t have much time before this nut you just ate starts killing you. You didn’t know you were moving before you were already out the door. Nabbing a set of keys before sprinting to the gate. Other were surprised at the clear shock and outburst you had. You had gone out the door before they even stood to follow. When they got out the door you left the gate to the courtyard open and they saw you sprinting to the exit gate. That brought them into gear yelling and chasing after you. You didn’t have much time. Pill or preferably liquid Benadryl would only work in the early stages of your reaction. You would guess 30 minutes before it was a lost cause.

Considerably to others with the allergy you were lucky. While it was deadly you had more time and didn’t have to pull out a shot of adrenaline every time to fix it. You pulled both gates open not even attempting to close them before getting into one of the run cars. You peeled off before anyone could question you. They all yelled and waved their arms. They couldn’t believe you. The sounds of the tires screeching was emphasis to your haste. They stood at the open gate seeing the car zoom down the road. A few walkers emerged from the woods causing them to try and close the gate as fast as they could.

You white knuckle the steering wheel attempting to take slow breaths. You resisted the urge to scratch at your skin knowing you must have hives by now. A ball seemed to form in your throat. You have been attempting to locate a EpiPen and Benadryl for a while now. You had some before the farm fell and lost it to the herd. You even asked Glenn to keep an eye out for Benadryl on runs. You felt tears prick at your eyes but forced it away knowing crying would only make it harder to breathe. You were scared but you had to think fast in a last ditch effort of survival. If any pharmacy or store you have checked didn’t have it maybe a household was your best bet. You knew you wouldn’t be able to look through many houses so it was a risky gamble. You know of a neighborhood your group has yet to explore. So with a race against time, that’s where you’re headed.

You had mentioned in passing at the beginning of the quarry of your allergy. Only ever talking about it again with Daryl. He hated peanut butter and you said while you’ve never had it because you’ll die, the smell was gross and over powering. Getting a grunt and “Ain’t missing much.” from him. He also may have teased you about how ‘something as simple as a nut could take you down.’ You were always good about your allergies, hence not ever needing an EpiPen. Something your mother was grateful for not wanting to stab you with a shot. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. While it could sneak up on you it was always solved somewhat quickly. Maybe you should have made a bigger deal about it.

Daryl POV

He had just gotten a shirt on when he heard rushing and calling for his name. He peaked down from his and your cell to see a worried Beth. As soon as she saw him she was nervous and stammered out, “Y/n! Something… we were just sitting then- she’s gone! She booked it out the prison randomly!” Daryl felt his heart drop and he quickly made his way downstairs to where everyone was now piling back in from outside. Rick ran a hand in his hair as Daryl slid into the room worriedly, “The hells happening?! Where is she?!” He watch as everyone turned to the other not knowing the answer. Hershel tried to calmly tell Daryl, “We’re not to sure but she seemed pretty spooked…”

Daryl looked around about to go into a panic. He spotted a bowl spilt across a table. Maggie followed his eyes and started to explain what happened, “She was sitting there. Joking with Carol and she was fine! Then all the sudden she sprung up and ran for it.” His mind raced, he had to go after you but he couldn’t if he didn’t know where or why you were going in the first place. He turned to Carol a strained expression on his face, “What were you talking about?” Carol just shook her head worriedly and shrugged, “Just food. She was giddy as ever to eat is all.” Daryl looked back to the food sprawled out on the table, “What did you make?” Carol put her hands on her hips, the chatter from the others in the room seemingly felt dense with worry and confusion.

“Just the little bits of squirrel we had left with some rice with almonds.”

He felt the nerves in him burn. His ears flood with blood causing the noisy room to muffle. Understanding why you ran made him light headed. Others around him noticed him pale, and the shocked and panicked look you had before washed over his. He felt frozen, you went off to try and save yourself. Not taking a moment before running off to find Benadryl. Something he knows you, Glenn, and himself struggled to find. He felt like he was going to crash to the floor. He had no clue where you could have gone, and if you would ever come back. The edge of his vision darkened but he felt someone behind him steady him. It was Carl, but his father was the one to drag Daryl’s attention, “What’s happening Daryl? You know why she ran, where is she going?” He turned to look toward Carol,

“She’s allergic to nuts.”

Some gasps rang through the room, some questions flying up in the air. Carol nervously shook, words shakingly coming out of her mouth, “Oh my god, I killed her.” She sunk down to a chair a wave of nausea painted on her face. Hand covering her face as tears broke out, “I didn’t know- I remember peanuts maybe. It’s all m-my fault-t.” Glenn leaned over the table as he looked down, “Is that what Benadryl is for?” He seemed almost sick with himself that he hadn’t tried harder to look for it. The room had slowly grown quiet. A pained expression filled their faces as the gravity of the situation weighed on them.

Rick spoke trying to do what he did best, lead. He needed to control the situation and make a plan. He stood straight with arms crossed, “We need to figure out where she ran off. Then try and find some medicine to save her.” He turned to Hershel, “You have everything if it goes south?” Hershel was mid thought thinking maybe a endotracheal tube they had could keep you breathing long enough for medication. Daryl grunted and shook his head, frustrated but heartbroken, “It’s no use, we been looking for anything for her since the farm. She would have never had a chance if she didn’t ran off like she did.” He was angry at the thought, he could do nothing but hope wherever you go you find anything.

Rick spoke calmly trying not to set him off, “Her best bet is with us-“ much to his attempt Daryl roared in anger, “By the time we even made it anywhere let alone getting it back to her she would have been dead!” He clenched his teeth, “We haven’t even the slightest clue where anything for this is.” He now huffed getting emotional, “She did what she had to, she made the right call.” He looked back to a sobbing Carol, “We just hope she comes back now…” He spun around back to the cell he came. His back turned to everyone, the stone lodged in his heart finally crushed him. Swiping the curtain to the cell he looked through blurred eyes at the place you both shared.

He sank to the bed. The lasts words exchanged between you and him running in his mind. ‘Go shower so I can kiss you.’ You pushed him away into the hall. He smuggled remarked a ‘Always can kiss me in the shower.’ Watching you become coy with him at the implication. Always easy to get blood rushed to your face. You had surprised him growing ever more comfortable around him in there growing relationship. Grabbing his dirty tan shirt and pulling him into a kiss. A smile plastered on your face at his surprised one, you whispered, ‘More for when you’re clean.’ He isn’t sure when the relationship happened.

It was slow to happen but there had been to many times your eyes caught on each other. Then you slept closer to him when you had yet to find the prison. You had kissed him on the cheek before a hunt giving him it for luck. When he came back with a deer good luck kisses happened more. An arm throw around you there and then. You holding onto him while on his bike. Wasn’t til the prison when you nervously suggested sharing the same bed that he caved. That first night on a bed he kissed you. More so devoured you but he would deny that. You had never cuddled before that night either, waking up tangled into each other on the small bed.

The small bed he now cried in over the all to real possibility he had lost you. He was laid back arm across his face. His teeth clenched together to stop any pained noise to release from him. Emotion circling in him, regret, anger, heartbreak, he hadn’t even the chance to tell you how much he loved you. The fear always stopped the word from tumbling from him. He could only wait.

Your POV

It had taken you 10 minutes to reach the neighborhood you sought after. Given that you were driving faster than you normally were ok with. You quickly jump out the car running into one of the near houses. Your hands shook while fumbling with the door. Adrenaline pumping in you mostly likely helping your survival. You pushed through making quick work of any spots you could think of. Kitchen cabinets, bathroom drawers, purses. The fabric of your clothes rubbed your irritated skin any time you moved. You abandon the house and moved to the next. Your quick pace making it harder to breathe. You cough and swallow trying to relieve some of the pressure in your closing throat.

You upturned and ran sacked the next house just as you did with the other. Throwing bottles of random medication behind you as you increasingly became more desperate. You left that house looking through every room but one with a walker in it. Your eyes scanned the line of houses. Your heart ached with fear thinking you were about to asphyxiate to death. You had one more house left in you to search. You picked one that had a small bike in the overgrown grass. You moved as fast as you could while heaving. You couldn’t break down the door with the strength you had so you went through a window. You paused momentarily for any movement, hearing a lack of any you started.

Cabinet, drawers, bathrooms, now you stumbled up the stairs. Tears streaming down your face with a sense of defeat. You looked in the master bedroom knocking things over again finding nothing. You slowly moved down the hall to a kids bedroom. Glow in the dark stars on the roof. Tubs of toys filled the walls. Stuff animals filled the bed. You had removed your shirt due to its unwanted friction on your skin. Looking to the pink painted chipped walls, you shakingly come to terms with defeat. Sinking down to the floor resting against the bed frame. You look to walls covered in kids drawings. Gasping for whatever air you could bring in was the only sound in the still house.

You thought of Daryl, not having been together for long but you felt in your heart he was your everything. You didn’t have much in the world but then you had him. He didn’t have much either and you tried to not lessen that anymore with losing you. You failed but you hope he knew you tried. He was a big factor to why you were fighting this so hard. You looked to the end of the bed spotting a backpack. The little girls room you’ve been in must belong to a 1st grader. Maybe you could find a pencil and paper to right a proper goodbye. You gasped air while fiddling with the zipper. You looked for paper and a pen while you thought of what to say. You were at least glad you had kissed him the last you saw him.

Struggling to look in the back you poured the contents out on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t believe your eyes. A zip lock bag with a bottle of red liquid you were all to familiar with. You rip the back open spotting an old epinephrine pen with it. The bottle was small but was filled all the way. You managed to get the cap off despite struggling with the child lock. The disgusting bronze liquid flowed into your mouth. You resisted the urge to cough it up, it slowly trickled its way down your closing throat. You had downed a good bit of the bottle. It felt as if it numb the pain in your throat. A sense of relief flowed over you. You sat there still stunned as you slowly regained some breath. You lean your head back to rest on the bed behind you. You took it in, you felt shame at almost dying so easily but you were ok.

You looked back to the EpiPen you held not feeling the need to use it. It’s intended users name plastered on it, ‘Penelope Thompson, allergen Bees.’ Your skin still burned to the touch but you managed to flop back onto the small bed. Stuff animals falling to the floor. You held still trying to fully regain air in your lungs. Waiting to see if you had stopped the reaction. You laid sprawled out staring at the ceiling. Resisting the urge to scratch everywhere. The growing itch in your scalp caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

You don’t know how long you laid there before feeling like you could breathe easily. No lump felt like it blocked your throat. You had decided to get up before it got dark, knowing everyone at the prison was worried sick. When you got up right exhaustion hit you. Benadryl main side effect being drowsiness. Considering you had just consumed a large amount of it, it weighed on you. It wouldn’t be safe to travel if you fell asleep at the wheel. You didn’t need just surviving a near death experience and then crashing the car into another one. You were met on your almost dying quota for one night you think. Moving the door closed and shoving a bookcase slightly to it was the best you’d get. As soon as you lay back down it crashed back into you. Struggling to even keep your eyes open you fell asleep despite the itch of your skin.

Your eyes slowly open. You didn’t move an inch or dream in your sleep. Felt like you blinked and it was pitch black outside. You bounced up to remember what had happened. Your hives seemed to be at a minimum and you felt back to normal. Expect the grogginess. You slept like a rock in your bones and muscles protest at your movement. Even though it was dark you decided to make your way back to the prison. A few walkers could be seen in the darkness but getting back to the car you’d be fine. After getting in the driver seat you rubbed at your eyes. You felt like you had way too long of a nap. You had no clock in the car and you sighed leaning back in the seat.

“I wonder how long I slept?”

Daryl POV

Hour after hour went by. Tension was high in the prison. Darkness started to fall over the prison. Daryl sat in a watch tower looking off to the empty road. He chewed his lips til a copper taste slipped into his mouth. A few hours after no return from you felt like the end of the world. You could very well be dead by now. Maybe you had even turned and started walking aimlessly. He wallow in his bed for those first few hours. Deciding recently just stand watch. Waiting and waiting maybe wasn’t the best thing to do. All the terrible things he could think the only thing keeping him company. A few people attempted throughout the night to talk him down tell him to get some rest. Coming up with any excuses why you were not back yet.

When dawn broke everyone except Herschel, Beth and Judith, were grouped in an attempt to locate you. Looking into possible supermarkets or pharmacies you might have tried finding medication. Every empty building with no sight of you felt like a lost hope. While even in the building, they looked for possible Benadryl or an EpiPen. With no luck to even finding the smallest bit of that. The consensus of you being gone was weighing heavier than that you were still around. Likelihood of you surviving seem to crash. They hope that maybe if they went back to the prison, you would’ve found your way back. That also didn’t happen.

Daryl was in a world of anger and pain. Rick didn’t know how much he cared for you, but he did now. It was becoming dusk again as everybody stood in the courtyard. Another search party would be happening in the morning. Many stopping Daryl from doing anything in the dark. Their main point being that maybe he wouldn’t find something if it wasn’t in the daylight. He sulked in his cell. That's how Carol found him. Deep in thought but she spoke to him either way, “Daryl?” He slowly turned his attention to her. She swallowed her nerves and began again, “I’m so sorry… Her death is on me.” He felt anger rising in him. He knew Carol was remorseful but suggesting that you were already dead? That made him grit his teeth, “Not yer fault, shit happens and you didn’t mean to.” She felt relief until his voice grumbled in displeasure, “An she ain’t dead yet so watch it.” His eyes stare daggers into her, causing her to leave in shame.

He rested his eyes knowing he would sleep a few hour and then go back to the watch tower. Leaning into the side you normally took, he relished in the slightest smell of you in the sheets. He had doubts about having a relationship. Due to past experience and a lack of trust he held with people. When he started to care for you he found he was scared to, not wanting to lose you one day. But he couldn’t deny you after a while. You were to tempting and god did you not give him everything he ever wanted in a partner. He tried to stop his racing thoughts due to not wanting to work himself up.

He tried sleeping, more like sat there with his eyes closed but he got a few minutes in between just laying there. Eventually becoming too restless and going to the watch tower. He knew he should try sleeping more. He would need the energy for the next search but, he couldn’t bring himself to rest with you not beside him.

Your POV

You were driving at a moderate pace, not wanting a walker to step in the road and crash into it. However halfway back you felt it staling. When you saw the gas tank was running on empty you knew you would have to walk eventually. But privy to the luck you had with the medication it soon ran out. You saw a bunch of silhouettes farther into the road. Coming straight at you probably due to your headlights. Then the speed you had been maintaining stopped. You pulled the car over to the side as it sputtered to a stop. Locking the doors and turning the car off. Hopefully the herd you saw wasn’t to big and you could wait for it to pass. You moved to try and crawl into the back crashing to the floor.

You sat there trying to remain calm and quiet when the sound of hundreds of feet shuffled pass you. Some ran into the car making you jump. This horde was a big one but at least now it wasn’t on route to the prison. It felt like ages cramped down between the seats. Your stomach growling at you. What you would do to chug some water. You spaced out looking to the window seeing the occasional shadow pass by outside. Thoughts running through your mind. It suddenly felt like many you had slept a few more hours then you thought. You think it was maybe 3 but then you remembered Benadryl made you fall asleep for at least 12. So the question is, ‘Was I asleep a whole day?’

When the shuffling an smell of rotten meat had stopped. The silence is what brought you from thought. You would wait some more not wanting to run into strays or have the horde turn around because it heard you. You at least sat up in the back. Looking forward you could see a few slower walkers making their way with the crowd. Waiting and watching them until they were a fair distance you got out. Softly closing the door you walked the opposite to them back to the prison. You had wished the car had a working clock in it to tell you if it was close to dawn. But a hour into walking the sky changed the ever so slight difference of blue.

You were hungry and thirsty so the longer you walked the more exhausted you felt. You stepped into the trees close to the road. Electing to sit down and take a break. You watch the sunrise. The cold breeze seeming to warm a little. Maybe you should have found a coat before leaving that house. Granted you thought you’d be in the car. Staring out to the orange sky. Some emotions washed over you. Having a moment to stop and think finally put you back into having to think of what almost happened. This sunrise you sat watching you almost missed. Not only that but you thought about Daryl a little more. Your relationship was slow, almost like you both were afraid to miss step. You couldn’t care about any of that now. You sniffled standing back up. Deciding then and there.

You were going to just love him without restriction.

With such determination, you walked again. Only about 8 more miles left until you get there. The bottom of your feet hurt. You had a pinch in your side. It reminds you of all that ground you used to cover after the farm. Mostly it was driving but there were cases where it was back to walking. Like hunting with Daryl or finding gasoline. Stumbling along the sky was now just blue. Morning birds chirping in trees. You had only walked 3 out of the 8 miles so far. Taking notice that the herd must have cleared a good portion of the walkers because you had yet to see one. You sat down right on the road again. What you would do for some pasta right now. Thought of food making your stomach rumble. Sighing and getting back up again you walked a little slower than you first started. You had to keep going.

You look down to your feet as you walk. A hand pressing into the ache of your side. A distance rumble that wasn’t your stomach caught your ear. The closer it came you realize it was someone using the road! You spotted a car in the distance. The green jeep Glenn and Maggie often used. Sighing in relief, the thought of not having to walk another step was a blessing. You put your hands on your hips stopping in place waiting for them to get closer. But what caught your eye was Daryl’s bike behind them. A smile plastered on your face. You started laughing, it was a way to release some of the emotion bubbled into you. You give a small wave to the now closer jeep. You knew the moment they spotted you because the car seemed to jerk in surprise. The car rolled to a stop next to you. Daryl seemingly lost in thought only slowing seeing the jeep stopped.

By the time you saw him look up and lock eyes he didn’t even let his bike stop fully before jumping off and running to you. You were tired and disheveled looking but oddly so did Daryl. When he reached you he crashed into you lifting you off your feet into an embrace. The cold you had unknowingly gotten used to was replaced by Daryl’s warmth. He was breathing at a fast pace while you melted into him. Tears of relief were in your eyes about to fall when Daryl pulled back and kissed you with desperation. Never before have you been kissed in such a way. With so much… love. This was new to you both loving another like this. So you returned the kiss with just as much heart. Pulling back for air you both huffed staring at each other. The look in his eyes shock you. Never seeing him on the verge of tears made you actually break into your own. Sobbing and clinging to him in desperation with words flooded out of your mouth, “I love *hiccup* you- so much!” Your exhausted state delaying the flood of emotions. You were on survival mode and it wasn’t until feeling safe again that everything hit you.

You felt another hand on your back looking over Daryl’s shoulder to see Maggie with tears of her own with a smiling Glenn behind her. The shock and fear replaced by a laugh that unconditionally rolled out of you. Daryl had his head shoved into your neck, you could feel the dampness of his tears on your skin. You both still keeping a tight hold on the other. Glenn was the one to state in disbelief what mostly all of them had thought, “How the hell you manage to be alive right now is beyond me!” It is what made Daryl pull back to check you for injury’s. You watch as his face scans you. You pulled a hand away to grab the bottle and EpiPen you found with a smile. Looking down to the more then half gone bottle you gave a sheepish smile, “Luck or a refusal of death, I’m not to sure.”

A loud growl in your stomach pushed Daryl into gear, “We gotta get her back.” It’s the first words you’ve heard him say. He was obviously still in protector mode and will fall out of it when he knows you’re ok for real. But you couldn’t disagree with going back home, “How long have I been gone?” You were leaning into Daryl’s side, his arm around you while walking to his bike that had fallen over in his rush to see you. He looked down to you sadly moving away with a grunt to lift his bike up, “Almost two days…” He moved sitting on his bike and holding out his hand to help you on. Your eyes were wide with shock moving closer to him, “Well shit. So much for thinking it was about 12 hours.” You lifted yourself up behind him on the bike. You noticed he was confused at your words but that gave him even more reason to get you back and checked by Hershel.

You dozed off on the ride back. Clinging to Daryl you just couldn’t stop your eyes from wanting to close. You were unaware of how truly malnourished and dehydrated you were. Daryl’s hand would slide back and grab your thigh leading you to perk up from being slumped over him. When the prison came into view you sighed in relief leaning your head in between his shoulder blades. It was Carl who pulled open the gate. When Daryl pulled in you could hear Carl screaming your name as he rushed your way. Using Daryl’s shoulders to get off you waited for Carl to crash into you. He hadn’t show this much emotion since his mom died. You hugged him but eventually pulled back, knocking his hat back in place on his head.

A hand to your back was Daryl’s way of trying to pull you inside. Carl saying he needed to stay at the gate for the others. You didn’t realize everyone was out looking for you. Getting out of the bright light of outside made you realize just how bad of a headache you had, a sign of dehydration. First person you see is Herschel reading his Bible. His face immediately filling with a smile at the sight of you, you sheepishly returning it. His fusing over you getting the attention of Beth with Judith in arm to come rushing out of the cell block. More people fusing over you was becoming overwhelming. Your body seemingly running on whatever fumes it has left.

A bowl seemingly appearing in front of you snapping you back from space. You didn’t even realize you spaced out and you started catching up with Hershel speaking, “Yes, but after she eats she should sleep. She needs to eat again in 6 hours. With as many times we’ve struggled with food I’m worried for her internal organs.” You already started eating what was in front of you. It was filled with more meat than you’ve had since the farm! It was definitely hitting a spot but you struggled with eating it all. Apparently them looking for you always got them checking places that still hadn’t been picked through. You stood up and away from the bowl that was still half full. You grabbed the cup of water from the table and turning to Daryl who had a displeased face. You started walking to the cells,

“Come on grumpy I’m going to bed, if I eat anymore I’ll end up throwing it up.”

You could hear him quietly following you. It wasn’t until you rolled onto the bed with a sigh that you looked over at him. You were confused why you hadn’t felt the bed dip but his face had so much to say. The sheet that covered the door was pulled making the room a little darker. He just stood there seeming to not know what to do. “Daryl…” you were pressed up to the wall having your arms open trying to lure him to you. He lay on his side looking at you. He was tired you were sure. Sighing you scoot yourself closer to him. Running a hand up his arms got him to talk, “M’ sorry, just in my head.” He pulled an arm to wrap around your waist. He gulped looking at you with eyes that could stab a dagger through your heart.

His hand moving from your waist to your face and holding it there, “I didn’t know you were my everything.” You can only look at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly open in shock. Looking on to his glassy eyes while they roamed your being. Sleep was calling you yes… but he was basically screaming for you with his eyes. ‘Everything?’ You could only wonder how he felt thinking you were somewhere dead. His fingers move to bring the hair away from your face. Moving your hand to mirror his you looked him dead in the eyes, “I thought I was going to die, the only reason I didn’t was because of you.” His eyebrows furrowed so you continued,

“My last thoughts were of you. I was going to write you a letter and when I empty a school bag near me for something to write on the meds came falling out with it.”

You could feel him take in a big breath to try and steel himself but you inch closer with determination. ”The only reason I tried so hard was to come back to the one thing I had, you.” You give him a quick peck leaning back for him to come hold you closer to him in a tight grip. He mumbled out something while outstretched over you… “I love you so much it burns.” That's all it took to drift you into sleep with a smile.

When it comes to 'picking your poison.' Daryl will always go to choose you.

Feedback welcome and requests open! [Sorry for lack of posts schedule is back to every other day!]

#daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff

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