#it did not really help I was still shaking but it's over now so

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

[strawberrysodaslut]

idk if you can do this but can you do a poly!marauders x gn!reader, and the boys’ reactions when yn wears a binder one day.

i'm not trans nor have i ever worn a binder, so i hope this is an accurate portrayal!! feel free to correct me on anything i've messed up.

Getting a binder was a long time coming. After months of research, hesitations and all the time spent waiting, going to the store and getting one, you never thought wearing something to bind would make you feel so damn free. Finally, understanding what people meant when you heard about gender euphoria.

You hadn’t told the boys about your latest purchase. In fact, you hadn’t brought up the concept to them. Not that they hadn’t been supportive of you, they really were. In a world of magic, pronouns were something that hardly needed grasping, and they would correct anyone who messed up politely, sending you a soft smile as they did. But- you couldn’t help but be anxious about them finding out. What if this was too much? What if they get freaked out?

So, you kept your binder to yourself.

At first, you didn’t think they had noticed. You wore looser clothes or sports bras earlier, so it probably wasn’t as big of a difference to others. It wasn’t until dinner that night where you noticed Sirius staring at you from across the table.

“What?” You said, chomping down on a bread roll to hide the way self conciousness ebbed in your chest.

Sirius squinted his eyes, looking like James when he tries to read without his glasses. “You look different.” He says. “Did you do something to your face?”

James laughs from next to you. “Did they do something to their face? What kind of question is that, Padfoot?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Sirius exclaims, “Admit it though Prongs, something about them is different!”

You find it hard to not instinctively crawl under the table to hide. So you curl in on yourself, pressing your chin to your chest to calm the heat across your cheeks. As if he can sense your anxiety, Remus places his hand on your shoulder.

“Guys stop.” He says, light concern lacing his voice, but he’s clearly trying to hide it. “Obviously they’re just relaxed now that the holidays are coming, isn’t that right?” He says to you, giving you a slight smirk and raise of his eyebrows that only happen during his most devious pranks. ‘go with this’, he silently urges you.

You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m glad classes are almost over.”

“Well,” Sirius starts, “We should have holidays more often then. Haven’t seen you this confident in- I don’t even know.”

“I’ll start the petition!” James pipes.

You smile, glad to be supported by your boys, but still relieved that your secret remains yours.

Little did you know later that night, the boys had a plan to throw a movie night with you in the common room. So at nighttime, when you had changed out of your binder so you wouldn’t sleep in it, James surprised you by barging into your room.

“Oi! It’s movie time- oh sorry.” James said, cutting himself off to cover his eyes as you put on your sweatshirt.

Remus followed him, quickly closing his eyes and turning around when he saw you, “Jeez Prongs! They’re changing!” He scolded.

“I know! That’s why I’m…” He trails off, gesturing to the hand that’s covering his eye- going completely unnoticed to Remus with his eyes shut tight.

You shake your head, a soft giggle escaping from your lips. God, they’re dramatic. “It’s okay guys, don’t stress.” You throw your sweatshirt over your head. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

James makes a soft grunt, before removing the hand from his eyes and taking you in. “Well, sorry again.” He says. His eyes slowly drift behind you to something on your bed, and tilts his head. “Hey what’s that?”

You almost jump, turning behind you to see your binder laid out on your bed, ready to be put away. You shudder a deep breath before trying your best to gesture nonchalantly. “It’s uh-” It’s hard not to cringe at how your voice trembles. Okay, nonchalant isn’t working. So you instead opt to be candid. “It’s my binder.”

James looks between you and the binder, his brows furrowed. “Binder…?” He questions before his eyes go wide. He paces towards you in a frenzy. “You’re not binding your magic, are you? Listen, you shoul-”

A giggle almost slips out again as you interrupt him before he explodes, “No Prongs! It’s for my chest. It binds my chest.”

Despite the reassurance that no, you were not binding your magic, James doesn’t look any less confused. If anything, he looked even more. “Why would you want to bind your chest?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he makes his way from you to the binder.

Candid, you remind yourself. You’re being candid. “So it would be flatter.” You say.

A beat passes before James replies, still looking down at the material.

“Oh.” “Oh?” You ask. Your heart thumping in your chest with anticipation.

He makes a small squeak as he turns back to you, “I-I just didn’t realise that was something you worried about.” He says, his voice sympathetic but laced with concern. “It’s not…” He pauses, “Is this where we’re supposed to say something to make you feel better? Because you don’t have to do that for other people you know...”

“No, I get that.” You say, a small smile making its way to your face. “This isn’t for other people, it’s for me. I’m more comfortable with myself when I wear it.” You gesture to the binder, as if it hasn’t been the subject of the past couple of minutes.

With that, James’ whole demeanour changes. The tension in his body disappears as he smiles wide. “Well then, we’re thrilled for you. Aren’t we moony?” He says, nudging Remus who has just been staring at you since the conversation started.

As if he has just awoken from a nap, Remus startles to attention. “Oh- uh yes! I’m supportive of whatever you choose as long as you're happy.” Remus replies, smiling at you before chuckling “Sorry it’s just- I knew that’s what was different.”

“You staring at their chest are you?” James teases Remus. “Perv.”

“No! I-” He exclaims, a red tint painting his face.

You smile at him, about to reassure the boy, when a crashing sound comes from downstairs before a yell echoes through the hallway. Remus mutters a small ‘fuck’s sake’ as the cause of the noise comes bounding towards your room.

“Sorry gentlemen- gender neutral, of course. The popcorn has burned.” Sirius announces before he’s entered the room, reeking of burnt popcorn with a few pieces lodged in his hair. Sharing James’ nosiness, his eyes quickly fixate on your binder. “Hey, what’s that?”

James scoffs before turning to Sirius. “It’s a binder, Padfoot, and they’re very happy.” He says with pride, his chin lifting. “Catch up.”

Remus’ attention, however, has drifted away from the binder and he asks the real important question, “How the hell do you burn magic popcorn?”

Sirius jumps to the defensive, “Hey! I’m the one who told you not to put me in charge of food!” He says, throwing his hands up. “I’m obviously more suited to the pillow gathering region.”

With a dictionary worth of swear words, Remus stomps down the hall to make some unburnt popcorn. James quickly following behind, arguing why him being the pillow gatherer was the best choice.

With Sirius and you alone, he turns to you. “Hey, it’s cool that you have that now. Reg used to use one a while ago.” He says, before grabbing your hand, “Now, let’s watch some movies on a subpar pillow arrangement.”

You laugh as you both go to follow the other two boys. “Sounds good.” You say, feeling more secure with them than ever. Your binder sitting blissfully on your bed, ready to be used again tomorrow.

poly marauders masterlist

#marauders #harry potter #poly!maraduers #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders x y/n #marauder x you #marauders fanfic #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #sirius black fluff

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: just cool bf sukuna dying his hair black and asking his loser gf to help him hehe. man i love the way this series turned out, ALSO THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS WTF😭😭 everyone is so nice i wanna cry :(( i promise im writing your requests guys, just need a lil more time so be patient with me!! more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

“do you know how to use box dye?”

“no?”

“the fuck d’you even know then?” sukuna rolls his eyes at you, throwing his jacket on your stool and falling down on the bed beside you. you ignore his words, opening your arms for him to settle on your chest and he does so without a question.

“we can watch a tutorial on youtube if you want?” you suggest and he grumbles something incoherently before closing his eyes and dozing off on your chest, face buried into your neck and arms tight around your middle.

so you take it upon yourself to watch a couple of tutorials and checking the instructions in the box dye, occasionally looking down at your boyfriend and imagining him with black hair. he’d look pretty in anything, you conclude and place a featherlight kiss on his forehead, right on his tattoo.

when sukuna wakes up, eyes half open and brows pinched in his usual frown, he finds you still awake, looking at your screen with great attention and the nail of your thumb between your teeth. you don’t pay him any mind as he crawls up under your arm to see what you’re so interested in.

“were you watching these the whole time?” he asks, a playful smirk on his lips, when he notices that you’re watching tutorials.

“yeah, wanted to help you.”

he smacks a kiss onto your cheek, “heh, loser, you’ll just do it for me then.”

you don’t mind, just nodding along and giving him a sweet smile in return. sukuna suppresses the dreamy sigh that threatens to come out of him when he sees how obedient you are with him, how patient and sweet you are.

as you add all of the ingredients into a bowl, you give it to sukuna with instructions to mix it all together, but as soon as he starts you regret your decision because he somehow manages to get it all over the sink and marbles and even some on the mirror above the sink. you suspect he did it just so you wouldn’t task him with anything else, which he doesn’t even deny because he is an asshole like that.

his previously pink tufts soon disappear under the black dye and it looks so natural on sukuna that you once again wonder if he was lying about his hair being naturally pink. you continue dying until all of his hair is covered. he groans about you finally being done and pinches you when you mutter under your nose about him just sitting and not doing anything but still complaining.

it’s, of course, a total mess when it’s time to wash out the excess hair dye; sukuna is such a menace about it too. he just shakes his head in every direction he can so that the black droplets of water stick everywhere, dirtying the white marbles of your bathroom shower.

at your request to stop sukuna just sprays you with the water.

eventually, you manage to wash out everything while he just lets out silly chuckles, mocking your whines and complaints about him being a pig. he sits down on your little chair again, now facing you instead of the mirror, his shirt off and knees trapping your thighs between his legs as you dry his hair with a towel gently.

sukuna tugs the towel down impatiently and looks at you, a smirk appearing on his face at the sight of your red face and bitten lips, “how do i look?”

you gulp down roughly as you watch him stand up to check himself out. he ruffles his hair before smoothing it back, biceps flexing in the process, and a very satisfied expression takes over his features. sukuna turns to face you once again, raising a brow at you, still waiting for your answer.

“you look really pretty, ‘kuna,” you nearly whisper, hand coming up to touch his damp hair, gliding down the nape of his neck. “so so pretty.”

his palm meets the top of your head in a gentle pat, fingers threading through your hair and gliding down then to cup your jaw in his favourite demanding manner. he pulls your head up, nails slightly digging into your cheek as he kisses your lips, earning a pleased hum from you.

you grip his shoulders tightly, palms splayed over his tattoos, trying not to lose your balance on your tiptoes, and whine when he pulls away, chasing his lips.

“‘m not some princess, am i?” sukuna shakes your head in his hold, smiling down at you with fondness written over his features. “you could call me hot instead.”

“you look very pretty tho, ‘kuna.” you tilt your head to one side, a little confused.

he rolls his eyes, pushing your face away with his hand and ignoring the whine you let out after.

#— miya writes! #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x you

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 2 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.7k c/w: mention of blood, language a/n: hey guyssss here is part two enjoy it i love you ALL!! live reactions in my inbox => ALWAYS welcome!

I wait a beat, processing. “What… did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Us?” I demand. “Who is us?”

Paige moves her hands between the two of us exasperatedly. “Bro. You and me. Us.”

“We haven’t been an us in three years, Bueckers.”

“I know that. I know that. I just-” She lets out a huge sigh. “I miss you, bro.”

I truly can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Not that I try. But still. 

“What is funny?” She demands.

I bend over, bracing my hands on my knees. And I cackle. 

“You miss me?!” I howl, clutching my sides. “Oh, that’s good. Now you miss me, okay.”

“Good to know you’re still a crazy bitch.”

“Good to know you’re still fucking stupid,” I shoot back, wiping at my eyes. Her eyes widen and I can feel a retort on the tip of her tongue, because despite everything - I know her. I cut her off before she can say a word. 

“What did you think was gonna happen, Paige? You were gonna come knock on my door in the middle of the night like a fucking Taylor Swift song, and tell me you miss me, and then what? Huh? I was gonna- what, kiss you under the stars? Tell you you’re the love of my life and of course I’ll take you back?” I sneer.

She clicks her tongue irritatedly, not unaccustomed to my rants. “It’s not even like that, dude.”

My eyebrows raise again. “Oh? What is it like, then, Paige? Do tell,” I snark, crossing my arms. 

“I just miss… I don’t know, being around you? Like, I hate how awkward things are between us now.”

“That’s your own damn fault.”

“Yes! Okay! It’s my fault, I get it, and I’m sorry-”

“Which part are you sorry for, Paige?” I demand. “The part where you convinced me to not only cheat on my girlfriend, but also break up with her to be with you? Or maybe it’s the part where you swore we’d be together and we’d make long distance work because, really, Michigan and Connecticut aren’t that far. No, maybe it was the part where you dumped me after I came out to my family for you because you wanted to fuck other people?” My voice is rising, and I’m stepping closer to her. We’re nearly chest to chest when I finish speaking

She searches my eyes. I don’t miss the way her gaze lingers on my lips, and suddenly there’s goosebumps all down my arms and I’m conscious of the tank top I’m wearing. “All of it. Everything. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to,” she says quietly.

I search her eyes back, my lip curling. “Cop out. Fucking cop out. You’re a coward. You were a coward then, and you’re a coward now. Go home, Paige.” I turn to walk away from her, but her hand lands in the crook of my elbow.

My knees nearly buckle. It had always been like this. Her touch had always had the power to make me crumble, and it shudders through me even now. 

“Maya-”  she starts.

I shake her off. “I said fuck off.”

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

“It’s Juilliard.”

“Well, open it.”

“I can’t”

Paige sighs, coming to crouch down next to me at my desk, lacing her fingers with mine. “Mai. I’m right here. No matter what happens, it will be fine.” I scoff at her. “That’s so easy for you to say. You’ve been committed to your dream school for almost a year.” Her face softens, blue eyes trained on mine. “You’re fucking incredible, dude. Any school who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. No matter what happens when you open that letter, you’re still a badass. It’ll be okay.”

I squeeze her hand, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re right,” I say, mostly trying to convince myself. Paige places a kiss against our clasped hands and I ignore the shudder it sends through me. It’s too domestic, too intimate, and this is probably a moment I should be sharing with my actual girlfriend. “Come on. You can do it.”

I login to my admissions portal, click to view my decision and shut my eyes tight, waiting for it to load.

I hear Paige breathe next to sharply, and I open my eyes, blinking.

Dear Ms. Jacobs,

We regret to inform you…

I can’t read the rest of it. My eyes blur with tears, and sob claws its way up my throat. 

I wasn’t good enough. All that work, the sweat, the tears, the hours spent in the studio - fuck all of it, because I wasn’t good enough.

“Maya,” Paige whispers. My bottom lip quivers, and the tears slip down my face. They land on the back of Paige’s hand in my lap. “Maya, baby,” she tries again, and I shake my head. My breath shudders out, and the tears are falling faster and faster now. I shake my head more indignantly, slamming my laptop shut.

A sob forces itself out of my mouth, and I bring a shaking hand to my mouth. Then the tears are really falling, streaming down my face, my whole body shaking with sobs, and I’m collapsing out of my chair into Paige’s arms. I sink into her on the floor, letting her strength support me, because God knows I have none. Her arms are firm around me, and I cry and cry and cry into her shirt, the blue of it darkening with my tears.

She presses her lips to my hairline, whispering words of reassurance against my forehead.

And though my whole world is crashing down around me, Paige is there. My Paige.

So, really - how bad could it be?

**********

“Mom!”

“Yes, honey?”

“What the hell is Paige doing here again?”

“Oh, she said she’d take Matthew to the park to play some basketball. You know how much he used to love watching her play-”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaim, stomping out of the kitchen and throwing my arms up. When the hell did she even manage to do that?

I storm out of the house, to where Paige is waiting near her car. “You better not be using my little brother to get to me, you asshole,” I warn menacingly, poking a finger into her chest. She narrows her eyes at me, and it startles me a-fucking-gain just how blue they are. She’s in a white cropped tank and mid-length blue shorts that hang off of her hips. Slowly, she pulls my finger down, wrapping her hand around it.

“Chill, Jacobs. Not everything is about you,” she says. I glare at the snark in her tone. “Ew, Maya, go change if you’re gonna come with us,” I hear my brother Matthew’s voice from behind me, a pair of Kyries hanging from his hand. I turn around to gape at him, and Paige guffaws. “Excuse you? I will take those shoes right to the store and return them-”

“Yap, yap, yap,” my brother complains, and my mouth drops open further, Paige’s laughter increasing in volume behind me.

 I turn around and smack her on the stomach. “Shut up,” I hiss. 

“Get in the car, kid!” Paige calls. 

“Now, hang on. Where the fuck are you taking him?” I demand. 

Matthew grins, running up to us. “I’m telling Mom you cussed,” he says slyly.

I make a face at him. “You’re such a little shit.”

Paige’s eyes trace over my face. “You’re sister’s a little brat, huh?” She notes, and Matthew groans in agreement. My eyes shoot to hers in shock. Brat?

She smirks at me. “You all ready?” She asks Matthew, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “You’re not taking my brother anywhere without me,” I blurt out stubbornly. What the hell? I don’t care that much. “And you’re not coming anywhere with me looking like that. Maya, you look ugly,” my brother says bluntly. “Matthew,” I warn. His attitude has really gotten worse since I’d gone to school.

“Go change,” he whines, and I look down at my old pajama pants and sleep tank, then back up to Paige. Her eyes trail up my body the same way, jaw tensing, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Yeah,” she intones hoarsely. “Go change.”

I hold her gaze for a few more seconds, the heat of it addicting. When she jerks her chin back towards my house, I listen. I run inside, up to my room, changing my clothes quickly.

I run back out in an all blue workout set, a pair of leggings and tank top that are the same royal blue as Paige and my high school colors. I fling open the door to Paige’s car, hopping in. I gather my hair to clip it up into a bun but she doesn’t move. “Hello? Go?” I say sarcastically, looking at her curiously. Her eyes are trained on me already, and it makes my chest warm.

“You’re wearing that?” She asks quietly, her knuckles white as her fingers grip the steering wheel. I crinkle my nose at her. “Sorry, did you wanna pick out my outfit?”

“Do you actually just exist to make my life difficult?” She snaps.

“Just drive,” I say, rolling my eyes.

The car is quiet for the first five seconds of the drive.

Then Matthew pipes up. “You guys fight a lot.”

Paige laughs drily. “You have no idea.”

We reached the park Paige and I had stumbled into each other at last week. Paige opens her trunk, resting her hand against the trunk door up in the air as she surveys her trunk. “You should clean your car,” I say matter-of-factly. “And you should mind your own business,” she quips back, but there’s no malice to her tone. She picks a pair of shoes out of the pile building in her car, slipping out of her driving slides to lace them up. 

“Matt, you got the ball?!” She calls back to my brother. He yelps in response, already running to the court. 

That’s the other thing that really pissed me off about all of it. He used to worship her. It’s not like he had a dad to teach him all the things he was supposed to know. But ever since we were kids, Paige had been there.

When he was four, he scraped his knee, and she cleaned the blood up that trailed down his leg because she knew it made me squeamish. She’d cleaned it with alcohol, holding his hand through the sting, and kissed the bandage she’d placed on top of it. 

When he was six, he picked up a basketball for the first time. Paige was his hero. He wanted to be just like her, and she’d spent hours with him and Drew teaching them all the fundamentals. He dragged me to her high school games, starry-eyed at watching his idol run up and down the court.

When he was eight, my mom couldn’t make it to his 3rd grade talent show. She had an emergency shift at work, and I still only had my permit. Paige had sped through perhaps three different stop signs trying to get me there on time, and she’d taken us out for milkshakes afterwards.

My jaw clenches at the memories.

I watch them together, watch her let him blatantly foul her over and over again, purposefully missing layups while he laughs that she’s going easy on him. A tear tracks down my face, and I wipe at it stubbornly.

“Hey, you good?” Paige pants, running up to me, her brows furrowed. I hope she hasn’t seen me crying. “What? Yeah. So good.” Matthew is close behind her, his water bottle in hand. I blink. “Damn. Y’all already done?” 

Matthew frowns. “Are you dumb? It’s been an hour and a half.” I open my mouth to spit a retort back at him, when Paige interjects. “Hey, take it easy on your sister,” she chides, clapping him on the back. “Thank you,” I sniff. She grins at him slyly. “She’s already shit at basketball, no need to make her feel worse,” Paige smirks. I roll my eyes.

Matthew howls with laughter, high fiving her. She takes his head in the crook of her arm, ruffling his hair. “Ah, I missed you, kid,” she laughs. “Now, hang on,” I splutter. “I’m not that bad.” Paige quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Play me then.” I scoff. “No!”

Paige backs up, dribbling the ball between her legs, and starts clucking like a chicken. 

“Oh, that’s really mature,” I say loudly, crossing my arms. She doesn’t stop, and my stupid little brother joins in. “Play me!” She calls over his noises. I roll my eyes again, and she laughs. “They gon’ get stuck up there!”

“Okay, check up,” I snap finally.

I’m not awful - I played as a kid and in high school before committing to dance full time - but I’m no Paige Bueckers. I meet her at the 3-point line, gesturing for the ball. She grins, her eyebrows raised. “You sure?” I flick my wrist, gesturing for the ball again. “Don’t get all pussy on me now, Bueckers,” I tease.

It’s natural. Too natural, too instinctual, to be going back and forth with her like this.

Paige tosses me the ball, and I toss it back to her, before it lands in my hands again. I back up, dribble it out, then make a quick drive to the basket. I lay it in easily, catching it under the net, and turning to frown at her. “You’re taking it easy on purpose,” I complain, thudding the ball into her chest. She grasps onto the ball, staring down at me, her eyes searching mine. “How do you know that?” She murmurs.

I shake my head, biting back a smile. I can’t tell if the rapid beating of my heart is from the drive or from the fact that she’s this close to me, smelling clean and fresh and so Paige. “Cut the shit. Play for real,” I tell her, dropping my hands from the ball. Neither of us move, the ball the only thing between us. Then she breaks the thread connecting us, dribbling back to the perimeter.

On her drive, I grasp at her shirt, and she yelps, completing the play anyway, the ball falling deftly through the net. “Foul!” She yells at me. “You have like seven inches on me, how the fuck else am I supposed to defend you?!” I demand. Paige stares at me. Then she cracks her neck, tongue in her cheek.

When she blocks my next shot viciously, I know she’s playing for real.

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredibly attractive when she’s so competitive. Possession after possession, she absolutely dominates the game. It doesn’t help that my idiot brother is cheering for her the whole time, spurring her confidence on. She knocks me to the ground on the last play, yelling triumphantly in my face as she stands over me, feet on either side of my body. Her body glistens with sweat, but her smile is fucking blinding. She leans down, her chain dangling in my face. “Still not shit, huh, Jacobs?” 

I grab her shirt, pulling her to the floor, and her knees land on the concrete on either side of my torso so that she’s almost straddling my body. She lurches forward with the momentum, her hands on either side of my head. Her ponytail falls down, brushing my nose. “Shut up, Bueckers,” I mumble, but I’m smiling, my eyes moving between her lips and her eyes, my hand still fisted in her shirt. 

“Are you guys gonna kiss?!” Matthew calls, breaking me out of my trance. I shove her off of me and she squawks, falling to the side. “Shut up, Matthew,” I grumble, stalking past my brother and smacking him on the back of the head. Paige is on her feet now, dusting off her hands. “So sensitive,” she says mockingly, eliciting a withering look from me. She sighs, turning to my brother and holding her hands out helplessly. “Can’t take a joke,” he says, shaking his head. Paige laughs loudly, looping an arm around his shoulder and walking with him to her car.

“How do milkshakes sound?” I hear her ask him.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk

[abouttofillhisshoes]

Do you wanna dance? - Matty Healy

A/N: i couldn't help myself, these two deserve to be happy forever and ever xx

this is a part two to this request i did earlier, but can also be read separately!!

wc: 3k

content warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), cursing, typical MPIND banter, kissing, a touch suggestive?

May, 2009 

“I’m so fucking boreddd, kill me now.” you drag your feet on the ground, letting yourself be pulled along by Matty, his hand tightly clasped against yours. He rolls his eyes, begging you to walk properly, and that you would find something to do soon. 

“Carolines?” he suggests, pointing in the general direction of the old paper factory, it being maybe a 25 minutes walk from where you were currently at. You raise your eyebrows at him, a skeptical look on your face. “Really?” you ask, whining about how your feet hurt and you didn't want to walk any further.

“Pretty please, I promise I'll make it worth your while.” he lowers his voice, winking at you cheekily. A groan leaves your lips, and you shove him off to the side, taking a swig from a freshly opened bottle of cheap tesco wine. 

“I’d do alot for you,” you burp, making Mattys face scrunch up in disgust “but i am not shagging you on a terrace, not a chance in fuck.” he laughs like music to your ears, a gross snort slipping out.

You suggest calling your other mates, inviting them for a few drinks on the balcony, just like old times. That small platform just off the main office held dear memories, good and bad. Matty immediately shakes his head, bringing your hand away from the phone in your pocket. “Just you and me, no one else.” He sounds different, you couldn't quite place it. 

“Carry me.” you joke, pressing a dramatic hand to your forehead. Imagine your surprise when you feel a firm hand press against your back, and another wrap around the back of your knees, hauling you up. Your hip hits the bare skin on Mattys chest, another ‘stylistic’ choice of his, only being covered in a thin, see through black shirt. 

“Jesus, fuck, let me down!!” you scream, attempting to push him away. 

All he does is giggle at your struggle, only pulling you closer, planting a sweet kiss on your lips. 

“D’you think I'm too weak to carry you?” you huff, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m too heavy, you’ll proper hurt yourself-” he laughs again, almost in disbelief. “Oh, come off it, I'm pretty strong, you know!” you roll your eyes, shooting him a worried look. He nods, leaning in to give you what you think is another kiss.

Instead, he fucking licks across your face, making you squirm away at the odd feeling. 

“Perv.” you spit, turning your head away from him. He nuzzles his face into your freshly curled hair, humming contentedly as he starts walking down the sidewalk. You notice him adjusting his hands a few times, trying to get a better grip, so you ask to be let down. He refuses, like he’s trying to prove something to someone. It was no use, he was going to see this through, apparently. 

It was wet, the rain from a few hours prior making everything smell like damp concrete. It was barely sunset, the sky painted several shades of blue, purple and orange, clouds sparsely littering the sky. Trees were finally starting to green again, and the warm air kissed your skin, warning you of the hot summer to come. It was late May, breezy and comfortable, even if it was pissing it down most of the time, you didn't mind it, rarely getting sick anyway. 

The back entrance was covered by stacks of cardboard, soggy and flimsy from the rain. Matty tries to set you down gracefully onto a rock nearby, miserably failing as when trips over his own feet, sending you both flying down onto the soft, grassy ground. 

Laughing at the stumble, he kisses you while you're still under him, gripping your cheeks between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long, wet dirt sullying the back of your shirt, making you whine like a small child. He reluctantly rolls off you, offering a hand to help you stand. Wobbly on your very impractical heels, Matty takes a jab at your choice of footwear.

“Who wears heels to go walk around? You've got fucking ankles of steel or something, thats mad.” he laughs, gesturing at your red platforms, thin straps the only thing keeping them attached to your feet. 

“They’re platforms.” you correct him “You’d know that, if you knew anything ever. Fuck you, you’re just jealous i’m taller now.” It was true, you towered slightly over him, even if only a few inches, it gave you a sense of power. 

Twirling your hair around your fingers, you let Matty lead you up the stairs, hand firmly gripping your wrist. His nails were painted black to match, though they were significantly more chipped than yours, the nail polish peeling off in chunks. 

Still, you found it endearing how he always wanted to use the things you did, whether it be makeup, clothes, even colors. What was yours was his, and what was his was yours, evident au cause de the blue top you were wearing. The stupid tourist shirt, his prized possession. 

The wind had died down a bit by the time you reached the smashed glass door leading to the terrace. Ross had managed to fall through it one night, absolutely wrecked off half a bottle of tito’s, no mixer. The four of you spent hours afterwards trying to pick small shards of glass out of a blacked out Ross, utterly convinced he was dying of alcohol poisoning. Fucking drama queen. 

Orange light floods the terrace, painting the worn down sofa in a warm hue. Matty smirks slightly as he plops down onto it, patting the space beside him, asking a silent question. You smile, the sight of him making your heart swell up with love. God, he looked beautiful, it was almost too much. Thicker chunks of his hair were now dyed blonde, streaks of pink peeking through. Impulse decision, though a good one, the bit of color really suited him.

“You got any?” he asks, tucking both his hands behind his head, spreading his legs, his shirt riding up slightly. A suggestion. 

“What do you take me for?” you giggle, already pulling out your weed. He never brought his own, insisting that if you wanted to roll them yourself, you’d also buy it. His logic was deeply flawed, but honestly, you loved him too much to tell him. 

Rolling the spliff, flashes of memories flip through your mind, you hear Hann’s voice. 

‘Girls don't roll their own spliffs’ God, he was such a dickhead.

“Girls don’t roll their own spliffs.” you giggle, grinning at Matty as you lick it closed, admiring your work. George had given you a few tips, and you’d actually gotten better. Mattys angelic laugh fills your ears, bouncing off the concrete walls. 

“Fuck yeah, I'm your girl.” he says proudly, brushing tangled curls out of his face, slightly more tan than usual, the sun having branded his fair skin. Your eyes roll of their own accord, and you nudge him with your elbow, muttering quietly. 

“Shut up mate, honestly.” he lets out a dramatic gasp at your words, pressing a hand to his chest is faux shock. 

“Do mates do this?” You jump as he snatches the spliff out of your hand, grabbing your face just like he did on the grass before, pressing a hot kiss right beside your mouth, just missing it. Biting back a moan, you feel his tongue slip past your lips, running across your own. 

“Okay, fuck off now, thanks.” you smile, unable to stop yourself. Not when he looked at you with such joy, eyes glimmering in the warm light. 

He hands the joint back to you, your hands brushing against each other. It felt loving, purposeful, real.

Grabbing the lighter from your right pocket, you run your fingers across the worn rhinestone, fondly remembering the day he’d made it for you.

The way he was reluctant at first, only giving in after you physically dragged him through the doors of the hobby shop, forcing him to pick out decorations. His concentrated expression as he tried to pick off the cheap stones, having to let you help him do it after numerous failed attempts. It was one of your favorite days with him, wishing you could relive it a thousand times over.  

Laying back, you hold it in front of you, rotating it over the flame to get an even burn. The smell flooding your senses, you close your eyes, bringing the spliff to your lips. Inhaling deeply, you feel Matty shuffle next to you, shifting and making the sofa creak under him. You try to ignore it, keeping your eyes shut as you feel the drug hit your system, a warm, weightless sensation enveloping you. It was when he moved for the third time that you snapped your eyes open, going to complain.

“Christ, will you stop moving around like tha-” your words get caught in your throat, dying out. 

He wasn't in the spot next to you anymore. No, he was on the floor. On the floor, on one knee, holding a small, red velvet box in his right hand. Your breath hitches as you notice the expression on his face. Anxiety. You could speak, hell, you could barely fucking think. Matty was in front of you, kneeling, holding a white diamond that was shimmering in the light, like a goddamn dream. 

You watch as he opens his mouth to speak several times, closing it before any sound comes out. His eyes fill with panic as you sit up, eyes wide in shock. He was proposing. Properly proposing, with a ring and everything, down on one knee. You’re convinced this is a dream, of a fucking hallucination, something more believable than what was actually happening in front os you. 

“Marry me?” he forces out, hand slightly shaking as you look him up and down, mouth completely dry. You felt tears stream down your face. Obviously, with Matty not being able to read your mind, his eyes dart around your features, trying to gauge what your reaction meant. 

“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with you.” are the first words you say, hands coming up to shield your face. The panic only grew as he tries to speak, only things coming out being bits of words and ‘sorry’. 

Shaking your head violently, you reach out your hand, presenting your ring finger. Tears well up in Mattys own eyes, dangerously close to rolling down his puffy cheeks. 

“Yes, oh my god, I fucking love you so much.” you scream, bouncing off your spot on the sofa, lunging towards a very emotional Matty. You catch his lips in a kiss, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not daring to let go 

“Really? You’ll marry me?” he says in genuine disbelief, his left hand gripping your lower back, pulling you close.

“Of course i’ll marry you Matty, christ.” he pushes you away, giddily slipping the silver ring onto your ring finger, planting a soft kiss to the metal. 

“Fucking hell that is a boulder.” you look at the diamond in awe, the stone basically blinding you. He grins from ear to ear, grabbing the fabric of your top, kissing you softly, a gentle warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips make contact. 

“Only the best for my wife.” giggles leave his lips, delirious and ecstatic, disbelief still evident in the way his eyes rake over you, settling on the ring. Pressing a hand to your cheeks, he thumbs the tears away, kissing all over your face. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest. 

“Bit early, innit?” you comment, sucking in a deep breath, eyes glued to Mattys. You're both on your knees, concrete digging into the skin of your legs. It was cold, uncomfortable, but you truly couldn't care less.   

“Never too early, Mrs. Healy” he smirks in that cheeky way of his, both hands settling onto your shoulder, rubbing small shapes into your skin. The moment doesn't feel real, nothing does. You hope to god that this isn't a dream, that that this was really happening. 

“Can Hann be the flower girl?” your inability to be serious for five fucking seconds shines through, the both of you falling into each others arms, uncontrollably laughing. Mattys eyes crease as he giggles, the feel of his hands on your body is heavenly, l of his hands touching your skin makes you truly believe you've reached a higher plane of existence. 

“Only if he wears the dress.” 

“Deal.” you say, knowing well that getting Adam Hann into a dress would require months of begging, maybe even bribery. You would probably need to buy him a fucking house to get him to even consider it. 

More laughter, more kissing, more planning a future neither of you had ever actually thought possible. A future with each other. 

Matty fumbles around in his pockets, pulling out his Ipod, initials erratically scratched into the metal. You raise your eyebrows at him, asking a silent question of ‘what the fuck?’

“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, smirking at you as he swiftly stands up, extending his hand. This is so incredibly cliché, and you know that yourself, but you can't bring yourself to care. 

His fingers press one earphone into your ear, before doing the same to his own. He smiles sweetly, expression softening. This was true, raw, unbridled love. 

“Can I choose the song?” you ask, fingers trailing down Mattys jaw as he settles his hands onto your waist. Nodding, he hands you the Ipod, letting you select whatever you wanted. 

“I love you so much, my darling girl.” he mumbled into your hair, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Stop being such a sap,” you laugh, quickly adding a “I love you too.” as to not offend him. As if he would be offended. 

Suffragette City blared through the headphones, the music filling every corner of your being. Your hips swayed, and so did his, guiding you lightly with the hands gripping you tightly. 

You didn't speak, letting Matty spin and twirl you around, breaking out into fits of laughter when you almost tripped over your ridiculous heels. Fuck, they were really a bad idea. 

Stopping for a second, you reach down to unclasp your shoes, kicking them off without a second thought. 

“Already taking your clothes off? We haven't even said our vows yet-” he teases, being met with a sharp look and a hand threaded into his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. 

“Don't ruin the moment, you wanker.” you mutter against his lips, licking into his mouth as you let him take back control of your movements. 

You don't know how long you dance for, but by the time the two of you finally come up for air, the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the tall buildings of the city. 

Your life together flashes through your mind. That very first kiss. That night in The Sound. Ruby. The drugs. The lighter, smashed into little bits. Your fight with the guys. The night he had called you, shaking and crying, scared. The photos. The sight of him, down on one knee.  

This was it. Everything that had happened; every mistake, every fight, every passionate kiss, every gasp of pleasure when skin met skin, every tear shed since that night at the bus stop had been leading up to this final moment. 

You and Matty, 

Matty and you 

Forever.

Properly this time 

The music faded, the sound of rainfall pattering loudly against the metal roof replaced it. 

A Suffragette City, A Suffragette City

Quite all right

A Suffragette City

Too fine

A Suffragette City, ooh, A Suffragette City

Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City

Ah, Suffragette

Suffragette!

#i actually cried during this #its so sweet #no smut for once surprise surprise #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 smut

[scorpioriesling]

I Look In People's Windows

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: It's been years... years since the breakup. He is no longer yours. He never really was, always keeping you at a distance. But, there were some good times. Maybe that's why you keep hoping to see him again, anywhere. Just one more time.

SR’s Note: Cannot get this song out of my head, and yes I am doing an Eris story! I love writing him. This one ends happy, just trust.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The day he left was the day you'd changed.

He'd tried to reason with you, to make you see why you couldn't be together anymore; it was the day his father killed his younger brother's lover.

Perhaps, he changed on that day too.

"You have to go," he'd said. "You have to get out of here. Now." You remembered it like it was yesterday; there was no option for questioning or changing his mind this time. You'd already started crying, before the argument began.

"I don't care, Eris! I love you, I can't just leave..." You could still feel the way your heart broke, split right in two. Eris had been frenzied, frantically gathering your things and packing them in a backpack.

"And I love you! Don't you see that? I mean, really -- don't you get it?" He threw the backpack on the bed, and you'd watched from the doorway, water dripping from your chin and onto the expensive oak flooring.

"I know you're afraid, but-" He charged over to you, taking your wrists in his hands.

"I am not afraid. Of nothing. Of no one." He said, so close you could feel his breath on your nose. You narrowed your watery eyes at him.

"You are." Is all you said. He dropped your hands, returning to the bed and snatching up the backpack. His back had still been turned to you when he said:

"I won't have you end up dead like Jesminda." Another silent sob racked your body, and you tried hard to keep from shaking.

"You know I'd love you to the ends of Prythian, Y/N." He said, voice quieter now as he approached you and slipped your arms into the staps of the pack. "I would do anything for you." A tear slipped past his eyeline. "Hell, I would jump into the cauldron for you-"

"I don't need anyone jumping into anything," you say, brushing your thumb over his tear-stained cheek. "I just need you. Me. I don't want to not know you anymore." The last part came out shakily. "Does it feel alright to not know me?"

His hands pulled your waist close, and he wrapped his arms around you one more time. You remembered feeling his shoulders shaking, your tears staining his mahogony jacket as you buried your face in his chest. You inhaled deep, smelling his campfire and cinnamon scent one more time...

And now here you were, still addicted to the "if only"s. If only he'd let you stay. If only he'd run with you. If only he was still yours...

You hadn't realized you'd wandered out of your neighborhood, and into the town square. The sky was gray and dull; reflecting how you'd felt inside. When was the last time you'd truly seen the sunshine?

On the last day you'd spent with your love.

Meandering through the Autumn court streets was usually peaceful, not many people being out this time of year as the air had turned a bit chilly. You would constantly check inside shops, the big windows highlighting the guests inside. You don't know what you'd do if you saw him now; its been years since he told you to leave. You'd listened, and stayed away; but that didn't help your mind playing tricks on you. Thinking you'd seen him boarding a train; seeing him at the tables of Christmas parties you couldn't bring yourself to attend.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the conversations around you, growing more and more as you'd ventured further into the square.

"I heard his kid did it."

"I can't believe the High Lord is actually dead."

"I was told that the oldest son slayed him, out of pure hatred."

What were they talking about? Certainly if they were discussing Lord Beron, you would have heard the news by now. If what they were saying was true and he was really dead, that would mean...

"Ahh, thank you Mariella. You always know exactly why I've come!"

Your body freezes, the whisper of sound drifting from an open doorway to a bakery on your left. You'd recognize that honey-dripped voice anywhere.

You break into a sprint, right for the bakery.

You knew you weren't decieving yourself this time.

Peering in through the storefront, you catch sight of his radiant curls, piled on his head. His genuine smile exposes his perfect canines; a smile you hadn't seen in so long. One you'd never thought you'd see again. He looked almost the exact same, just how you remembered him from all those years ago.

Your breath fogged up the glass, and you wiped it with your sleeve. The small squeak that came from the action caused Eris and the cashier to both peer out at you, and you felt an electricity bolt shoot through you when your eyes met his one more time.

He murnured something quickly to the woman, and raced out of the store. When he cleared the entry way, he stared at you in silence for a few beats, utter shock on his face like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He took one small step towards you, and you couldn't wait any longer. You ran to him and threw your arms around his neck, his wrapping around your waist and twirling you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled back and met those whiskey orbs, solely focused on you. You didn't care who was staring. You didn't care what people said. You only cared about the male in front of you.

"Eris, what... what happened?" You asked, voice breaking as you tried to contain the happy tears running down your face. He only smiled back at you longingly, taking one hand in yours and placing the other in your hair, finally feeling your wispy tendrils he missed so much.

"I feel as though I've waited forever for this," he admits, pulling you in closer. When his lips meet yours, the sweet apple taste is back. One you'd missed for so long. He continues kissing you for a few moments, relishing in the fact that you were finally back in his arms.

"And," he says, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#Spotify #acowar #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #lucien acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #lady of autumn #acotar series #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhys x reader #archeron sisters

[rdr2stories]

"Funny little fella" a rdr2 fanfiction.

A short fanfiction about a strange horse that Javier and John brought back to camp.

John pulled at the rope, watching with unease in his chest as he saw the horse at the other end speed up. He looked up at Javier following behind them, they both knew something was wrong, maybe they should have left the horse, but they couldn’t do it now when they had already taken it.

The two of them rode down the small trail to Clemens Point, passing by Arthur who stood guard for once in his life after John had complained to Hosea and Hosea had said Arthur could learn a bit by doing duties. He didn’t seem to enjoy it, but he did enjoy the sight of John and Javier coming back to camp with a pony dragged after them.

“What? Did Old Boy get too big for you Marston?” Arthur joked, letting out a short laughter.

“Very funny,” John replied as he passed by Arthur, walking Old Boy over to a hitching post before jumping off and securing him. He gave Old Boy a scratch as Javier hitched Boaz next to him before he grabbed onto the new pony he had brought back, glancing into camp and finding Hosea playing dominos with Tilly. “Hosea! I need your help!”

Hosea turned around with a startled expression, probably expecting some form of trouble, not John and Javier standing with a funny looking pony. He let out a soft chuckle, excusing himself to Tilly before making his way over to the two men. “What is the problem boys?”

“Me and Javier were out and found this pony, thought it would be good for Jack to start with something small when he learns to ride,” John explained as Hosea patted the sturdy and fluffy pony with even wilder hair than Marston. “So we took it, but I think it is lame and we can’t exactly just let it go now.”

Hosea nodded understandingly. “I see, on what leg?”

Javier snorted slightly as he leaned against the hitching post. “All of them it looks.”

Hosea raised a brow. “Let’s see it then, John do a run please.”

John made a small clicking sound with his tongue, giving a slight yank at the make shift halter and sat into a small run, pulling the pony with him as it sat into a trot, however it looked strange, moving its legs at the wrong time and having a sideways sway in its back.

“Well that does look strange, come back here with it John,” Hosea spoke and waited for John to get back to them before walking over, letting a hand run down the horse’s front left leg, feeling for any bumps or irrecularities. “Well she isn’t warm.” Hosea concluded as he had felt each leg. “Hm, curious.”

“She isn’t lame,” Kieran spoke lowly as he slowly approached the group, the brush he had used on Brawen still in his hand.

“You can’t seriously be thinking that is normal,” Javier replied as he looked at Kieran. “Aren’t you meant to be a horse expert or something O’Driscoll?”

Kieran puffed his chest slightly. “I ain’t no O’Driscoll mister Escuella, but it is because of them that I know she isn’t lame, she is gaited.”

“Gaited?” Hosea asked as he scratched his chin. “I have heard of gaited horses but I expected them to be well… Horses and not ponies.

“She isn’t a pony, she is a horse.” Kieran explained as he walked over and scratched the horse. “Icelandic to be exact, even though they are short they are qualified as horses.”

“Hold on, back to the gaited thing, what does that mean?” John asked, shaking his head slightly.

“You know how your horse has walk, trot and canter? Yeah she has those plus one or two gaits more! One of the O’Driscoll boys had an icelandic because he was part icelandic, I got to ride it ones before Colm killed it after the owner died and we needed food.”

“Two more?” Javier raised a brow.

“Yes,” Kieran answered with a nod. “Tölt and sometimes a flying pace. What you just saw was the tölt, bred to be fast, comfortable and ground covering. It is really nice to sit, and many of the horses were also taught to be able to catch drunk riders who may sway in the saddle.”

John let out a small laugh. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Men? Isn’t it a bit too small for grown men?” Hosea asked.

“They are bred to be able to carry grown people, they are very strong,” Kieran answered.

“But you said she can trot?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Oh, um, some icelandics prefer tölt and others prefers trot, they can do both but if you just ask for something faster than walk they will have a preference.”

“How do you get them to do the other?”

“To get from tölt to trot you need them to lower their heads and get them to relax more… I think, it has been a while.”

“Would you be able to do it?” John asked.

Kieran’s eyes widened. “Uh- I can try, but I haven’t done it for a while and I only rode the other one time.”

“Well, try is all we can ask,” Hosea shrugged slightly. “We can use it to teach Jack anyways, we will just also need to put him on a trotting horse as well at some point.”

“Hop on then cowboy,” John said to Kieran as he handed him the reins.

“Alright…” Kieran replied nervously before jumping onto the horse, nudging it forwards into a tölt and riding in a small circle in front of the camp. He worked wit the horse for a little before it lowered its head and fell down into a trot, holding it for a bit before picking up the tölt.

“Well would you look at that!” Hosea chuckled as Kieran stopped the horse and walked over to give it a few pats on the neck. “Funny little fella.”

#john marston #jovier #rdr john #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 john #red dead redemption 2 #kieran duffy #rdr2 kieran #javier escuella #rdr2 javier

[sisters-sideblog]

And my other fill for Ravioli ship week, for that most classic trope of "Only One Bed!" Read it here or on Ao3.

△△△

Link wasn’t home much for a while. After his recovery and agreement that Ravio could use his house while he was away, he promptly found himself halfway across the country chasing clues for several weeks straight. 

He did make it back home eventually. Shaking off the dungeon dust, he staggered back to rest and resupply, so tired he’d forgotten Ravio would be there and nearly drew his sword at the enthusiastic greeting that waited for him in what he was used to thinking of as an empty house. 

In fairness, his abrupt return seemed to startle Ravio as well. 

Now he slumped over dinner, already eyeing the corner where his bed had been shoved aside. It looked like there was just enough room to push one of Ravio’s added tables out of the way and crawl in.

…In fact.

Yes. 

There were scuff marks on the floor. New ones, as if someone had been doing exactly that for several nights. 

Link realized he’d stopped chewing, spoon dangling precariously from limp fingers. At his back, the sounds of Ravio enjoying his own meal fell suspiciously silent. 

It occurred to Link. Finally, belatedly. That he perhaps should have thought of this sooner. 

He hadn’t seen any of Ravio’s possessions aside from the stuff he sold. Wasn’t honestly sure he even had any. But the bag was obviously magical, so maybe…?

Link cleared his throat. Ravio twitched at the sound, spoon clattering against his bowl. 

“Where have you been sleeping?” Link asked in the most neutral tone he could manage. 

“Um. Well. You see.”

When Ravio didn’t continue, Link waited. But aside from clearing his own throat in a distinctly nervous manner, Ravio didn’t continue. Link finally turned to look at him. From the way Ravio dropped his spoon entirely, there was some kind of expression on his face.

“You’ve been sleeping in my bed.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mister Hero!” Ravio immediately returned in a loud but not terribly sincere tone. “I had to leave home so quickly, you see, and I was sleeping on the ground with all those dreadful monsters around before you so graciously lent me your home. It isn’t very comfortable down there. As, ah. As you know. since you’ve probably been sleeping on the ground, too.” He faltered to a stop rather than try to dig himself back out of the hole he’d talked himself into. His hands were wringing together, his posture hunched in a way that made Link think he might be about to throw himself back down on the ground like he had when he was begging for a place to stay. Link couldn’t see the extraordinarily sad puppydog eyes, but he could feel them aimed right at him. 

He had spare blankets and a bedroll. The space in front of the fire would be perfectly warm. 

But Link wouldn’t get any sleep himself if he made Ravio sleep on the ground while he enjoyed the comfort of a bed mere steps away. If the guilt didn’t keep him up, the sounds of Ravio shifting around certainly would. 

He sighed. “Fine.”

Rounded shoulders immediately straightened. Link swore the fake ears on the hood perked straight up. “Really? Oh, thank you, Mister Hero! I promise you won’t even notice I’m there!”

Link doubted that. 

△△△

The problem of logistics returned once, after much arguing, they had cleared sufficient space around the bed for them to both now be standing on either side of it. The dying fire cast a dull orange glow through the room, the door locked and the shutters closed for the night. Link was halfway through trying not to think too hard as he stripped down to his nightclothes before he realized Ravio had pulled his boots off and stopped, reaching to fold back his side of the covers with the bunny hood still on.

“Are you going to sleep with that on?” Link didn’t really want those giant embroidered eyes staring at him in the middle of the night. 

“I usually don’t,” Ravio said, which wasn’t an answer. 

“I don’t care what you look like,” Link tried. 

It didn’t seem to help. Ravio faltered, wringing his hands and just standing there awkwardly. He finally cleared his throat. “Could you turn around?”

Eyes narrowed, Link gave him a suspicious visual sweep. “Why?”

“I’m going to take it off.” 

“I might roll over in my sleep,” Link warned. He still didn’t have the faintest idea why Ravio didn’t want him to know what he looked like, but obviously he cared quite a bit. It was only fair to warn him.

“I know, friend, I didn’t mean you had to stay facing away all night! I have this!” He pulled something from one voluminous sleeve; after a bit of squinting, Link first thought it a mask, then a blindfold. But it had no eyeholes to be the former and looked too padded and comfortable to be the latter. 

“I’m not wearing a blindfold!” he said hotly. 

Ravio, Link had noticed, seemed to almost fluff up and out when he worried he’d angered someone against himself. Like a frightened cat with puffed out fur trying to make itself bigger than it was. “It’s not for you, it’s for me! And it’s a sleeping mask, not a blindfold!”

They stared at each other from across the bed. One beat. Two. 

Feeling red in the cheeks and more than a little foolish, Link turned around. Rustling sounds behind him; the covers folding back. He heard Ravio sit, then near silence for several long moments, save Ravio hissing a brief curse to himself. 

“You can turn around now,” he finally said. When Link did, he found Ravio sitting upright in the bed, hugging the far side, his hood traded for some kind of silk wrap that completely covered his hair and ears and the “sleeping mask.” Between the two, he was still nearly as covered as with the hood alone. Unlike with the hood, it was obvious he could no longer see, the direction of his head aimed somewhere more towards the middle of the room than Link himself. 

“Well. Good night, Mister Hero,” Ravio said, sounding as awkward as Link felt. 

“Good night,” Link echoed. He watched Ravio lie down and roll onto his side, facing away. 

Climbing into his bed with someone else already in it was… odd. Link tried to lay on his back, since that seemed the safest way to not actually touch his bedmate. But he’d never been much of a back sleeper. It didn’t take long for things to start to ache, and no amount of fidgeting was making it any better. 

Ravio politely didn’t mention Link’s shifting, but his shoulders drew up under the covers. 

This wasn’t going to work. Time for Plan B. 

Trying hard to roll over without pulling any of the covers off of his bedmate, Link gave in and flipped to his side. 

This presented a new problem. His bed wasn’t terribly large. When he tried to curl up it pressed their backs together; a feeling startling in its intimacy. But more importantly, drawing his feet up meant he encountered Ravio’s own. 

“Your toes are cold!” Link yelped. 

“So are yours!” Ravio lied. 

“They are not!” Link yanked them further up regardless to get his poor innocent calves away from Ravio’s freezing toes, but that just pressed their backs more firmly together. Grumbling, he flipped over again. Onto his stomach now, head turned to the side on his pillow so he could breathe, one arm hugging the pillow and the other curled up against himself; a position Gully had found him in more than once when he was sent to see why Link wasn’t yet awake and working at his apprenticeship. He’d turned his head habitually to the left, and so now faced Ravio, his nose nearly tucked all the way up against the back of his neck. He thought he saw Ravio shiver when he exhaled. 

Link liked the way he smelled. 

“Is this okay?” He felt the need to check. 

“Perfectly fine, Mister Hero!” Ravio returned in a pitch that could accurately be described as a squeak. Link didn’t have the mental energy left to check whether he meant it. The past few weeks had been long, and now that he was finally comfortable they were catching up to him. Incoming slumber weighed down all his limbs. 

It felt nice. To fall asleep next to someone. It felt really, really nice. 

Not falling asleep on a hard dungeon floor helped, too. Ravio was right. Sleeping on the ground sucked.

Even if he did wake up in the middle of the night to find that Ravio had stolen all the covers. Ravio put them back when he rose before Link did in the morning; Link woke to the warmth of someone else’s lingering body heat in the blankets heaped up over him. It was a feeling he thought he could very quickly get used to.

#raviolishipweek #ravioli #albw #ravio #link #raviolink #myfic

[athenagranted]

idk if you're still writing the post-cemetry scene fic with pining eddie (idk if i'm describing it right) but i would love to hear more about it/see a snippet or too if you feel so inclined 👀

someone asking about angsty pining fic in the month of our lord april 2024? this was such a lovely surprise 😭 i'm gonna be honest with u anon i'm likely not going to publish 911 fic again BUT because you asked so nicely i'll give you a few older snippets from my draft:

Eddie sighs, breaking the stare. “You have a key, you know,” he says finally. “Feel free to come join me whenever you want.” He turns on his heel and walks back inside to finish his goddamn brownies, leaving Buck standing in the doorway.  It’s silent for a few minutes. He’s in the middle of measuring a tablespoon of espresso powder when Buck steps into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. Eddie feels the weight of Buck’s gaze on him as he folds the powder into his brownie mixture, but he doesn’t turn to meet his eye until Buck speaks.  “Is that…” Buck falters. He clears his throat. “Is that my recipe?”  “Yeah,” Eddie says gruffly. “Chris asked me to make it. Said he wanted to share it with his friends when they come over tomorrow for their playdate.”  Buck snorts. “Man, you can’t call it that. Chris nearly bit my head off last time I tried. Kept reminding me that ‘playdates are for kids, Buck,’ and that he’s not a kid anymore.”  Buck emphasizes that last bit with air quotes, and Eddie can’t help but grin at that. But his smile fades instantly, remembering the somber look on Buck’s face when he’d opened the door. He highly doubts that Buck came over just to commiserate about the trials and tribulations of watching Christopher grow up.  Eddie bites the bullet. “Why are you here, Buck?”  Buck shifts nervously. He shrugs and looks away from Eddie. “I — I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. You’ve never asked me that before.”  Eddie scrubs at his face. “I've never had to ask you that, Buck. Things are different now. You’ve been busy.” 

+

“Wow,” Buck says acidly, all traces of heartbreak gone. “I’ve never heard that one before.”  Eddie frowns. “What?”  “Really, Eddie?” Buck’s voice cracks on the last syllable. He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. Just — unbelievable.” “Buck — what are you talking about?”  “We were just trying to protect you, Evan," Buck mocks. "You were never supposed to find out. We kept it from you because we love you. Any of that sound familiar to you?” Eddie’s breath hitches on the word love, because he doesn’t know, he can’t know, but then —  Oh.  Fuck.

+

Buck: We’ll get through this just like everything else. I promise. It’ll be okay.  Buck: Eddie, did you eat enough today? Should I come by and bring you some food? Buck: You know you’re still my best friend, right? That’s never going to change, Eddie. Never.  He reacts with a thumbs up or a tap-back heart on most of the messages, too exhausted to do anything else. He replies with a thumbs down to the message about food, certain that he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Buck so soon. He knows he’ll have to face him in person eventually, but his tired, broken heart just wants to postpone it as much as he can.  The last one, though, is a balm that both soothes and agitates Eddie’s burning, aching heart, and he taps out a brief, Thank you, you too. Always, in response. It feels like too much and not enough all at once, and Eddie wishes once again that he was a little better at resisting Buck, that he didn’t feel that need to reply to his every message lest Buck worry even more about him. The only one he actually acknowledges is a message that comes in at 2:43 AM on Sunday. As he opens the message, Eddie absentmindedly wonders if Buck’s having a hard time falling asleep for the same reason as him. Probably.  It’s a link to a new exhibit at the Griffith Observatory, accompanied by a text that reads: Can I take Christopher here next weekend? Eddie squeezes back tears as he replies with a brief, Of course, and puts his phone down, letting the darkness swallow him again. 

+

Hen beats him to it. “What happened, Buck? I thought you really liked her. Weren’t you planning to introduce her to Maddie and Chimney next week?”  “Not anymore,” Buck mutters. “I broke up with her.”  “What?” Eddie snaps head snaps up. “Why?”  Buck doesn’t meet his gaze, his lip quivering. The rest of their team is watching them, eyes darting back and forth, and Buck blinks hesitantly before swallowing down a sip of coffee. He wipes the cream off of his upper lip and looks Eddie in the eye.  “You know why,” Buck whispers. 

#i love sad men. also thank u for the ask btw it does mean a lot that someone was still thinking about this fic <3 #rae writes #fic: blue skies #answered #anon

[desswright29]

Intomba: Young Love

A/N: Hey Yaw! I know I been gone but I been busy. But I’m here now and I come baring gifts lol. For some reason this story is really close to my heart. Like I LOVE reader and Shuri! I combined my love for Angst with my love for a pretty love story and I hope you guys love it as much as I’m enjoying writing it.

Word Count: 9.6k

Pairing: Shuri/Reader

Contains: Friends to lovers, underage kissing, Love story, Angst, Struggle, Prison Shuri, manipulation, No smut for now this isn’t a smit heavy fic. There will be but I just wanted to write a story.

“Oh,God! Oh My God! I can’t believe it!” Bound to her wooden floors, her eyes locked onto mine. Stunned I should guess. Was it from my hardened appearance, or did my presence in general offend? I couldn’t have known. As our gazes lingered upon eachothers, I couldn’t help but notice after all these years, her eyes were still filled with a certain purity, guiltlessness, innocence. A simplicity, that I hadn’t been blessed to be in the presence of for a long time. Eight years to be exact. I couldn’t help but feel unworthy of it’s presence. Breaking our stare, I look down at my feet as they shuffle from side to side. Self-consciousness trickling through my veins as I continue to feel her gaze.

“I-I know I didn’t call. I didn’t have a number, only this address. I could find somewhere el-“

My body froze as I suddenly felt her body come in contact with mine. Rushing into me, she throws her arms around my neck. She trembled against me, and my eyes shut tight. The warmth of her embrace sending shock waves to my system. My arms remaining at my sides my mind not quite computing how to engage with the softness of this embrace. As my eyes remain shut I feel her pull away and soon after, fingertips gently caress each my cheeks. Slowly sliding from my cheeks, down my neck, and down my arms. She traced the art that now shadowed my caffeinated skin. “It’s really you.” The words pour softly from her lips, and I open my eyes slowly looking down at her lovingly.

 “I’m not so sure about that.” I whisper, my eyes glazing over allowing her to continue surveying me as we stand in her doorway. Those eyes, they lift from my arms back up to my own, brows furrowing as she searches for meaning. I can spot the exact moment she finds it. Grabbing my hand, she lightly tugs at my arm guiding me inside of the small apartment. Once the door closes behind us, her arms wrap around me once again.

I grip onto her, hands shaking as they grip onto her waist. I can feel the dam about to break. But, She still knew me. She could feel it, smell it on me. Her hand gently rubbed my back. “It’s ok. You’re safe now Shuri.” And with no urge to fight,I close my eyes allowing the tears to flow as I breath her in, head buried into her neck. It hits like a wave, my body shaking with sobs as my knees went weak, and we sank to the floor. “I’m sorry Shuri. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She sits in the center of the floor, my head on her bossom as her hands delicately stroke the top of my head; allowing me to release emotions that hadn’t been safe for me to release for eight years of my life. 

And that’s who she was to me. My Amanzi, My water. When life would suck me dry. I ran to her and she replenished me.

I’m sorry. I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself. I’m Shuri. Now a days they call me Qamata. But, we’ll get into that later. I should explain what’s happening here. As i’m sure you’ve guessed, I’d just been released from prison, for what had supposed to have been a ten year bid. I got out in eight on good behavior. I was just a kid when I went in. 18. And there I was at 26 able to carry everything I owned in a paper trash bag. I remember feeling low. The equivalent of garbage. Cast away.

However, I wasn’t the delinquent youth that I’m sure you all are picturing. Far from it. I was top of my class. Dual enrollment. I’d graduated highschool at 17 as valedictorian, and having already secured a bachelors degree from the most prestigious university in Wakanda; where I would’ve finished out my education in Network engineering and computer science, had everything gone the way it was supposed to. But, Bast did it not. At a point in time I despised this life that I chose. It had taken the person I loved most in the world away from me. My brother.

At a point in time my father was the most feared man in the place we call The Bricks. His name was T’Chaka, they called him Uthixo. God Father. Pretty self-explanatory. He peddled his poisonous products to our community without remorse. Not a single regret. He was merciless, cold. So much so that he’d killed his own brother in cold blood after finding out that he was consorting with the enemy. Turned out my uncle N’Jobu, had been being held captive. Working for them under the pretense that his families lives would be taken. My father knew this. He still killed him, stating that N’Jobu was a liability. That was my father. His carelessness eventually cost him and my brother their lives. They were killed the same day. Their bodies riddled with bullets. My father and brother dangled from light poles on display like trophies. 

T’Challa, my brother, he didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t wanted that life. And neither did I. My mother, myself, and my sister were exiled in a way. Shunned into dilapidated buildings struggling to make ends meet. My mother fell sick, and my sister was useless. She sold her body, and the proceeds went to her poisonous habit. She’d had three children since then that ended up mostly under the care of my mother. So as soon as I was of age I began to work in the mines. It was hard back breaking work for anyone, especially a teenage girl. But, it was my only option. My name. My Fathers name preceded me wherever I went. I worked hard to turn it around. And I began to succeed. 

I am a certified Genius. If anybody was going to get us out of The Bricks. It would be me. But,  Love. Love makes us silly, Ngaba akunjalo (Does it not)? I took one look at that pretty chocolate skin. Those big Doe eyes, and that big gravity defying hair and fell into a deep bottomless pit of eternal love….In love with you Sthandwa Sami. The girl who saw me hoarding my food from the cafeteria to take to my niece and nephews; even though I myself was by every definition of the word starving. So you started packing me a lunch everyday. Making me eat it infront of you. Stubborn Haha. The only person in the world who could tell me what to do. If only I’d known that that was only the begining of the things you’d be to me.

In all of my life, there were only two constants. Tragedy. And You. I remember the day everything changed. The day I knew I was in love with you.

Your buttery brown skin saturated with the suns rays blessed Shuri’s vision. Sitting across from her, a beauty that had changed the trajectory of her exsistence. Physically, you were a goddess to young Shuri, yes. It was apparent in the way she incessantly stole glances. Bast’s light shining on you making your skin, the shade of nutmeg, gleam like pyrite stone. Eyes like buttered chocolate, swirled with caramel crescent moons. Your juicy lips appearing as though they’re dripping in manuka honey. Big curls sat atop your head like a crown. Unapologetically kinky, defying earths gravity. 

However, it was more than tangible for Shuri. Deeper than the eyes would meet. Your beauty was the flower be-speckled in the thin light of dawn. But, it was also the volunteer in a soup kitchen on a holiday missing their own family meal. It was majesty and self-sacrifice, it was all of the wonders of the natural world and our spiritual wholeness. It was the embodiment of the love God had for her people. For who are we to be blessed to walk amongst such an ethereal beauty. 

“Shuri? Shuri!?” Shuri was startled out of her thoughts, sitting up straight in her seat. The pretty girl that had her transfixed, now speaking to her. She cleared her throat trying to play it cool.

“Yea? What’s up?” Scratching the back of her head, she looked down at the books infront of her, trying to avoid eye contact. Her heart heart rate was excelerated, and her face heated, she’d been caught.

“You’re not paying attention.” Finally, her eyes raise. Looking into deep brown orbs she could so easily get lost in. So beautiful. 

“Yo. I was listening.” She spoke up defensively slouching back against her chair. Mirroring her actions from across the table, you cross your arms across your chest, squinting your eyes at your friend, cocking your head to the side. 

“What did I just say, Shuri?” Shuri’s lower lip disappears between her teeth as she tries to swallow a smile. Her eyebrows raise, and her eyes shift from side to side. Your eyes narrow as the smile broke across her face, her eyes turning apologetic.

“I’m sorry.” She chuckles. Rolling your eyes,  you suck your teeth quickly picking up and throwing it across the table at her. She catches it effortlessly. “A pencil?” Her eyes widen in faux shock. “You’re really trying to hurt me.” She says hand coming up to clutch her chest dramatically before a smirk curled her pretty lips.

“Yea, because you’re supposed to be helping me, but you keep zoning out!” Your face scrunches up in frustration. Though you couldn’t help but to admire how cute and dramatic Shuri was. With her perfectly chisled face, pretty lips, and perfect smile. Your tummy tingled a bit as the two of you seemed to get lost in eachothers gaze. 

“Shhh!” Shuri’s attention was immediately grabbed by the sound. Her gaze snapping to a young man staring at you two his annoyance apparent, and so was Shuri’s. He’d interrupted a moment of rarity between the two of you everyone knew that Shuri’s annoyance wan much more dangerous than the average persons. The smile was still plastered on her face, her bottom lip now resting between her teeth. You see her glance your way out of the corners of her eyes and you shake your head. 

“Shuri..” She turns to you fully throwing her hands up in defense. 

“I’m not going to bother him Y/n. He’s absolutely correct. We should act like we have home training? We’re in a library. We should conduct ourselves properly. Yea?” Knowing better, your brow raises a frown distorting your face.

Shuri leans back in her seat a genuine smile plastered on her face, before her gaze returns to the boy.

“He’s safe Amanzi. However, for future references. It’d behoove you to watch your tone when you speak to her.” Suddenly her tone turned serious, eyes steadfast on him, the smirk on her face leisurely becoming a grimace. The boy shifts in his seat clearly uncomfortably. Shuri turned in her chair hunching over placing her elbows to her knees only deepening the stare staring a hole into the side of his face. Quickly closing his books, shoving them into his back pack, he scurries off to find a safer table. 

“Ah maaaann! Are you leaving? Don’t goo!” She called after him sarcastically. 

“He didn’t even say anything. Why’d you do that?” You chastise her.

“Yea he did. Remember? He said Shh. And it’s not what he said it was the maliciousness

in his tone.” A malicious grin spread across her face.

“Malicious- Girl.” You roll your eyes as laughter erupts from her throat. “We’re sorry!” You call after the boy.”

“Speak for yourself, thando” She replies. 

You look at her like she’s crazy as she shrugs her non chalance. 

“Anyway Shuri. If you’ve had enough of being a bully, could you please help me with this fucking calculus I only made it into this class because of you.” 

Shuri’s outdated Kimoyo beads buzz against her wrist and another apologetic look crossed her face. You release an exasperated sigh, slouching down into your chair. 

“Put your lip up. It’ll only take a second.” 

“Khawulezisa!! (Hurry up)” You say. Shuri’s eyes roll to the back of her head as she see’s the holorgraphic name that appears. With great hesitance she answers the call.

“Challan, I’m at the library.” She answers, irritation seeping from her pores.

“Your Umama, is in the hospital. My kids were unattended for 3 hours.” Shuri’s heart drops into her stomach, immediately sitting up straight in her seat. Concern instantly crosses your face your back also straightening. 

“What are you talking about?” Shuri could feel her heart racing in all of her pulse points while she waited for her sister to give her more details. 

“Some complication with the cancer. I don’t fucking know. She’s good, but the kids haven’t eaten all day!” Shuri could feel her body began to heat up with rage. 

“ChaCha! Feed them! They’re your kids! I don’t have time for this shit! What hospital did they take mother too?” A long suck of the teeth comes from the other end of the call and Shuri’s jaw clenches.

“What’s going on?” You mouth from across the table, and Shuri holds up a finger. 

“If I had something to feed them with you think I’d be talking to you about it!” Shuri’s shut tightly as she counts backwards from 10 to try and calm herself.

“I don’t have any money Cha. Tell me where they took my mother.” She reiterated, rubbing a hand down her face, slouching against her chair once again. Your eyes never leave her watching her every movement. 

“You’re lying. You always have money.”

“I have a job Cha…You should try one. I’m only 16. Im not a fucking millionaire. I’m making enough for bills, and food for me and mother. We’re barely scraping by with that. For some inexplicable reason, I’m still waiting for you to let me know where they took my mother Cha, I’m loosing patience.”

“She’s at General…You don’t care about your nephews and niece eating?”

“Just stay at the hospital. I’ll get them something when I get there.”  Shuri hangs up in her face. Standing to her feet, and you begin stuffing your belongings into your book bag hurriedly. Shuri’s eyebrows furrow as she watches you. 

“What are you doing?” You look up at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Coming with you to the hospital. Duh.” 

“No. You need to stay here and finish studying. You’re exam is tomorrow.” Your head jerks back a look of offense taking over your face.

“Shuri get your shit together so we can go. Don’t play with me.” You finish putting away your things, throwing your bag over your shoulder. 

“Stubborn.” Shuri huffed a small laugh, while doing as you said. You grab ahold of Shuri’s hand pulling her to the exit of the Library. The two of you running out, and hopping onto Shuri’s motorbike. You place on the extra helmet she always kept for you, and hold tightly to her waist before she takes off. 

“Umama?” She speaks softly stepping quietly into the hospital room, hand in hand with you, not wanting to interrupt her if she was resting.

“Come on in baby. Im awake.” Ramonda announces her eyes lighting up at the sight of You and Shuri. 

There was once a time in her life when her mother stood so tall, so strong. Graceful and elegant. Now she lie weak and frail. It rocked Shuri to her core everytime her eyes rested on her mother for too long. 

“Umakazi! Umakazi!” The pitter patter of little feet followed the sound of little voices as they came crashing into their aunt, hugging onto her legs as she lowered herself wrapping them all into her embrace. You smile as you walk over to her mothers bed placing a gentle kiss to her cheek. 

“Y/n, it’s good to see you.” She says lightly squeezing your hand. 

“It’s good to see you too. I wish it was under better circumstances ofcourse. How are you?” A light smile lifting the corner of your lips. 

“Blessed, intombi entle.” The smile on your lips widen. She never let her spirits fall no matter the circumstance and that was admirable to you for all that she had been through.

“Bast you all get bigger everytime I see you! Look at you.” A warm smile lingers on your lips as you watch Shuri tickle and interrogate her neice and nephews about their day.

“She loves those babies.” Ramonda chuckles as she watches along with you. You nod 

“More than anyone, could truly understand.”

“Hey to you too sister.” Cha says sitting in the corner of the hospital room. Shuri looks up from the children only for a brief second. Still very off out from her and her sisters earlier conversation, but she chooses not to argue as of now. Instead she places a kiss to each child’s head and stands to her feet. 

“Hey Cha.” She says before heading over to her mother. Removing your hand from Ramonda’s grasp you step back allowing Shuri access to her mother.

Leaning over her mother, she places a gentle kiss to her foerhead, smoothing her hand over hair, “How are you feeling, mama?” Ramonda looks up at her daughter a weak smile passing over her lips. 

“I’m just fine little girl.” Shuri smirks. That was always her answer. 

“Yea. Well I’ll let your doctor tell me how true that is.”

“Don’t you go getting all worked up over me now. How are you?” She asked lifting her hand to Shuri’s cheek. 

“Worried mama.” Shuri whispers, eyes revealing the truth behind that statement. 

“I am ok. My dear, and there’s no need at all to be worried. You have all the strength you need to survive, and not to mention an abundance of knowledge. You are an Udaku. As much you want to renounce that name It holds alot of power. Every once in awhile you’ll need to tap into it.” Shuri didn’t like this conversation. She didn’t like it one bit. Her eyes searched her mothers face a since of dread washing over her.

“Mama? What’s happening what’s going on?”

“I need to head out it’s getting late. Shuri you got cash so the kids can eat?” Cha stands from her seat appearing eager to leave. Shuri stands to her full height, over Cha’s attitude. 

“You don’t see me talking to my mama?” Shuri’s face scrunches, and Cha folds her arms across her chest rolling her neck.

“Well like I informed you earlier. My children haven’t eaten all day. So I need to go and get them fed.” 

“And since you’re depending on ME to feed them it would be smart of you to wait until I finish talking to mother.” Shuri rebuts

“I don’t have time to wait for you.” Shuri chuckles.

“Oh I’m sorry, is the crack calling?”

“Shuri!” Both you and Ramonda interject reminding her of the presence of Cha’s children. 

The doctor enters the room, as Shuri and Cha grill each other from across the room.

“You must be Shuri.” A polite smile graced his face as he approached Shuri his hand outstretched. 

“Yes.” She says softly before taking his hand to shake. 

“Nice meeting you young lady. I am Doctor W’Kabi. There are a few things that I need to go over with you and your family. Is everyone in the room authorized to hear?” You stand to your feet.

“I’ll head out. Shuri how about you give me the money for the food and I take them downstairs to eat so you all can talk.” Shuri’s eyes soften at the sound of your voice. She nods reaching into her pocket to get her wallet. 

“Uh! Excuse you? I don’t know her Shuri! She’s not taking my kids anywhere!” Her eyes land on you looking you over with a condescending stare. 

“And I’m not giving YOU money. So it seems we’re at an empass here sister.” The tension growing thicker between the two siblings. Shuri’s eyes squinted, her legs slightly parting as she locked her fingers together at her hips. Cha’s nostrils flared as she looked back and forth between you two. 

“Girl fuck you.” You immediately step forward..

“Uh uh, that’s enough. You may not know me but I know that Shuri is constantly sacrificing to help you feed your own children and your not about to keep disrespecting her in front of me.” Cha smirks stepping forward. 

“Little girl, What do you think you’re gonna do?” Yoo step forward as well never being one to back down but Shuri immediately grabs your arm. 

“Chill.” She says pulling you behind her. “Cha, this is not a problem you want. Now Y/n is going to take the kids to get food Sonwe can talk to the doctor.” Turning around to face you, Shuri sees that your eyes were still set on her sister. She touched your cheek bringing you back to her. 

“Hey, calm down. Just handle this for me so I can find out what going on with my mother.” Your eyes finally land back on Shuri’s face as you calm down. You nod.

“I am. I got it. She’s just disrespectful as hell.” You say mumbling pulling yourself away from Shuri’s grasp and gathering the children. Shuri can’t help but smile a bit as she watches you leave the room. Knowing you would have much more to say. When all of the commotion was finally over Shuri brought her attention back to the doctor.

“I apologize for the disruption Doctor. You may continue.” Shuri looks over at her mother who had been abnormally quiet throughout the hostile exchange. She seemed dazed, just trying to keep herself awake. She turned back to the doctor needing to know what was going on.

“Yes.. Well.” Dr. W’Kabi says moving right along. “Earlier before your arrival we were discussing the current state of the cancer. Unfortunately, it has spread, and it’s becoming very aggressive, taking a major toll on her body. I’m sorry to say it’s only going to get worse from here.” It felt like a punch to the gut, and tears streamed from Shuri’s eyes.

“S-so what do we do? What do we have to do?” Shuri’s eyes glanced over the room. Challan remained steadfast in her spot almost looking as though this was all inconveniencing her. 

“We’ve discussed it being best that your mother goes into a hospice facility.” Shuri froze. Her world begining to feel as though it was crashing around her. 

“N-no, no, no. W-We can’t afford a facility.” Shuri says through her tears.

“There are low income options that are covered by the state th-“

“I know what you’re talking about, and I’m not letting my mother go there. They don’t give a fuck about those people!”

“Shuri..” Ramonda’s voice came out in a whisper behind her. Shuri turns to her mother.

“No mama. You’re not going there!”

���I-I’m sorry, young lady. Your mother has already allowed your sister to fill out the paper work.” Shuri’s head whipped around again. Confusion taking over her as she stared at the doctor in disbelief. She scanned the room once again her eyes like daggers landing on Cha. 

“You did what mama?” She whispered, addressing her mother as she grimaced at her sister. “Cha doesn’t give a fuck about you! You let her sign you into a death trap?!” Her voice now raised, trembling with all of her bubbling emotions.

“You know what. I’m sick of your shit Shuri! I’m the oldest, and I can damn well help take care of mama!”

“Bitch! Your brain is fucking fried you can’t even take care of your damn kids!”

“STOP IT!” Ramonda’s voice carries throughout the room, strong this time making them both freeze as they had a stand off in the middle of the room. 

“Doctor could you please give us a moment.” Dr. W’Kabi slightly bows his head as he steps out giving them space to talk.

“As long as the two of you are breathing. I don’t want to hear you disrespect eachother the way you have today. You’re treating one another like strangers and like it or not. The two of you are all you’ve got in this world. So you may not like eachother. But, you better figure out how to love. Do you understand me?” Both of the sisters held their poster. Looking the other over as though they were forever enemies. 

“I said do you understand me!” Her vice raises again and the two of them finally answer their mumbled agreement. 

“Challan step out.” Ramonda commands as Shuri’s nostrils flare, her breathing excelerated as she mugged her sister as she stormed from the room.

“Alright that’s enough Shuri.” Shuri snaps back around to her mother.

“Mama this is crazy!”

“What’s done is done. It’s my decision and I did what I had to do for you.”

“For me? This isn’t for me mama I need you. What am I supposed to do without y-“

“You’re gonna make it. Is what you’re going to do little girl.” Shuri shut her mouth. As the tears flow. 

“I ca-can’t mama. I can’t.” Ramonda’s own tears began to flow. 

“It’s time Shuri, and I need you to figure things out.”

“I don’t have anybody else. They’re gonna put me in the system.”

“No. Cha’s of age so I’ve allowed her to be placed as your legal guardian.” Shuri’s eye almost take over her face at this information.

“WHAT! Cha’s supposed to be my guardian and she’s hanging on to her kids by a thread!”

“Let me talk girl damnit….I wish that me and your father did better by all of you. I live in constant regret of the way the lifestyle we chose tore apart our family. What it did to my dear T’Challa.” Ramonda chokes up at the mention of Shuri’s brother who was killed along with her father fighting a senseless gang war. A tear fell from Shuri’s eyes. She missed her brother everyday. “ All of those late nights. The money. The power. And now I have nothing to give. Grief has made me sick in my body. I’ve held on this long for the two of you. Allowing Cha guardianship over you gives you time. And hopefully it will pull you closer again. You’ve been blessed with amazing gifts Shuri. Don’t let struggle over take you. Continue excelling in your studies and you’ll get all of you out of Brick District.”

“Ma- I”

“Shuri.. I’m not asking you. I need you to do this. I understand this is a lot to put on the shoulders of a teenaged girl and I hate that this is the only option. You need to focus. I need to know you hear what I’m saying.Take the curse from our families name.” Shuri looked at her mother her eyes clenching shut. This was it. She was her only way out. 

“Yes Umama.” She whispers. Ramonda lifts her hand again raising it to Shuri’s cheek. “I love you child. And I’m so sorry for the life your father and I chose. But, you’ll be better. You’ll be great. Promise me that.” Shuri’s eyes fluttered as she held back tears.

“Yes Mother. I promise.” Shuri says softly. 

Shuri leaned down. Placing a gentle kiss on her mothers cheek.

“Come see me as much as you can. I love you. But you’re not going to sit and sulk in this hospital with me any longer. They’ll be taking me shortly.” Shuri broke, she lay next to her mother a moment allowing her tears to fall as Ramonda comforted her. Rubbing her head as she snuggled into the crook of her neck.

“You’re going to be great girl. You’re going to change lives.“ Shuri lay there for a few more minutes before standing to her feet wiping away her tears. 

“I love you mama.” Ramonda smiles. 

“Go child. I’ll see you soon.” Shuri nods, slowly turning to walk out of her mothers room. 

“Oh Shuri?” She calls and Shuri turns once more. “Tell Y/n how you feel.” Shuri’s heart drops into her stomach. Her sexuality had never been a topic of conversation between her mother and her. But, she knew. Of course she knew. This causes a light smile to lift the corners of Shuri’s lips, before she exited her mothers room.

Your head quickly lifts, as the door opens. You stand from the bench that you’d been sitting in, approaching Shuri, concern etched into your face. Shuri takes in her surrounding.

“Where’s Cha and the kids?” The tone of her voice almost broke you. Though her head was held high as she walked out of the room. Her voice gave way to her pain.

“Cha came and snatched them up. So I just came back to wait for you.” You say softly. Shuri nods, as you step forward. 

“You ok?” Shuri just shakes her head, stepping forward into your arms. Her’s snaking around your waist, laying her forehead onto your shoulder, allowing her tears to flow. Silently, you wrap your arms around her shoulders lending your wordless comfort. 

“Cha signed mother into the counties hospice facility.” She whispered against your neck. Her tears soaking through your shirt. 

“What?” It comes out like breath, You were taken aback. Hospice? “Oh Bast. Shuri.” Your eyes welled as you rubbed gentle circles into her back. Her news struck a bit of fear within you. What now? What would happen to her? So many questions went through your mind but now wasn’t the time. You chose to continue lightly stroking her back as she wept into your shoulder. 

“I can feel you worrying through your fingertips Amanzi.” Shuri says, pulling herself up. Almost as though it was reflex you reached up placing your hand to her cheek flicking away her tears with your thumb.

“I’m sorry. I-I’m just. What’s going to happen to you?”  Shuri sighs her hand coming up to grip the wrist of your hand that cupped her cheek.

“Cha is now my legal guardian.” Your mouth drops.

“Cha? Cha? As in your sister that can’t take care of her own kids? How does that work? Are you going to move with her? What if- “

“Y/n.” She cuts you off with a finger beneath your chin. Her thumb gently pressing against your lips, before it slides down your soft lips. Your body immediately froze. The touch felt so much more intimate than she’d ever touched you before. Your eyes locked on to hers as she spoke to you. 

“I work. I’ll figure this out.” You let out a slightly shaky breath trying to cover up how much her touch had effected you. 

“Shuri you’re only sixteen. There’s only so much you can handle.” Shuri’s thumb now traced your lower lip and it seemed as though her eyes were focused there before her gaze finally met yours.

“I don’t have a choice.” She whispered.

Your eyes welled. No matter how unfair. She was right. This was her reality. No amount of feeling sorry, or worrying about her was going to change that fact. So you swallow your tears. Looking up at her still wrapped in her embrace.

“And you’ll never go through it alone.” That was a solemn promise that you would forever keep. Shuri’s heart heard it. She nodded slowly. Eyes never leaving yours. It was a silent agreement that you would remain beside her through the thick of it. Little did either of you know there was a pull inside of both of you. To seal your agreement with a kiss. However neither of you wanted to loose the other. And not knowing the others intent caused you both to step out of the intimate embrace. Clearing your throats awkwardly.  

“Uh, I should get you home.” You nod in agreement. 

“Yea.”  

The sun was begining to set as the two of you rode through the city. The two of you taking a short detour to Shuri’s so that she could give you notes for your exam tomorrow. The ride was quiet and peaceful. You held Shuri tight allowing her to process her thoughts. Once at her apartment building the two of you head up stairs. The trip was meant to be in and out, but Shuri would never allow you to be outside alone in her neighborhood. Though yours wasn’t the safest either, she’d never allow you to be hurt on her watch.

Unlocking the door to the apartment, You both step inside, and Shuri hits the the light switch….and nothing happens. Shuri flicks the switch back and forth a few times silently before her shoulders slumps. Her head drops and her eyes shut tightly. Before….

“Fuuuuck!” She hauls off punching the wall above the light switch several times. Her final straw for the day being reached. 

“I’m tired! I’m of this struggle shit!” You could see the emotional exhaustion take over her. Her body finally collapsing to the floor and down you went with her. Cradling her head against your bossom.

“I know”, was all you could give. Because after the today there wasn’t much comfort in words. Shuri had been through enough to break most adults. 

“You’re not alone Shuri. You’re not by yourself.” You whisper as you hold her rocking her in your arms. The two of you held that position. You hummed to her. Rubbing her head until you felt her breathing slow, her grip loosening around you. 

“I should get you home.” You hear her muffled words.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You immediately rebut. Shuri pulls herself away from you, shaking her head. 

“No. You need to get home. This is not your problem. I don’t have power or any food. I gave Cha my last few dollars for the kids. I’m tapped out. I’m going to take you home. Tomorrow I’ll see if I can get an advance at work or something. It’s only one night. I’ll figure it out.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” You ask.

 “I’m not leaving you here alone, and hungry in the dark.”

“And just how do you plan to pull that off. Your mother hates me and my family. You think she’s about to let you have a sleep over at my place.” Shuri chuckles sarcastically. “Anyway, I can’t keep letting you do this. These are my struggles y/n. Maintaining a friendship doesn’t require you taking on my burdens. I would never ask that of you.”

“You haven’t. I’m offering my back to help carry some of the weight Shuri. You can’t do this alone. You were hit with a lot today, and I couldn’t sleep at night knowing your here pretending you don’t have anyone else. I love you, and right now you don’t need to be alone. More than ever you need someone in your corner, and it’s important to me that I’m that person, So let me be.” Shuri’s heart skips a beat as she looks into your eyes, her lip trembling. After the city had shunned her and her family, you’d stepped up. Refusing to lump her into her fathers sins. You and your friendship meant the world to her. 

You stood to your feet reaching for her hand pulling her to her feet. 

“I’m going to call Nevaeh and tell her I’m going to tell mom I’m staying with her. I’ll get a few dollars from her and some food. We’re going to get some candles and batteried for flashlights and we’re gonna thug this out together. And you don’t have a choice.”

Another tear rolled down Shuri’s cheek as she silently nodded letting out a small exhale. You reach up wiping away the tear quickly before taking your hand in hers. 

“Let’s go.”

As of now there were so many words that Shuri wanted to say. So much gratitude she had that she wanted to spill over into you. She battled inside with it, and finally decided to settle on a simple. “Thank you.”

Shuri gets you home. Parking a block away so that noone notified your mother about who you’d been with. Their weren’t many parents who would be fond of their children befriending Uthixo’s daughter. So she steered clear of your mother. Not wanting to cause a riff in your home. So, you ran up to your apartment quickly to grab the things you’d need for the night, as Shuri sat waiting on her bike, under the disguise of the nights darkness.

Thunderous bass reached her ears before the brand new black escalade approaching her came into view. A long sigh escaped her lips. She rolled her eyes, taking off her helmet, swinging a leg over the front of her bike. She sat to the side elbows to knees…waiting.The truck slowly rolled to a stop in front of her. The window rolling down to a smile filled with gold. 

“What up lil cuz! I ain’t seen you around these parts in a minute. I thought y’all let them run y’all outta town.” He chuckles. Shuri’s face scrunches up in annoyance.

“N’jadaka.” Her voice was nonchalant. Demeanor calm, as she waited for her older cousin to state his business. 

“I can’t check up on family? We are still family. I know Unc didn’t give a fuck about that. But, I do. Y’all been straight? I’ve seen Cha around and she not lookin’ too good.” His eyes appeared concerned but the small smirk on his lips showed his true face. Shuri chuckled unamused.

“Funny…You think we don’t know you’re feeding her the shit that’s got her fucked up?” He finally allowed his smile to break free. 

“Ah man baby cuz…See that’s business. She was getting ahold to that shit before I came along. We both know that.” He took a break to take a long drag of a blunt sitting between two fingers. “You a genius and shit right. You know whether I was giving it to her or not she was gon’ find it. Might as well be family.”

In a way he was right. Cha had always been the type to end up in things she wasn’t supposed to. But, that was still no reason to allow her to indulge. Shuri decided to ignore his comments. Choosing silence, hoping that it would speed up this exchange. She wasn’t in the mood.

“Look lil cuz. I know you don’t trust me because of what your pops did to mine and all. Y’all think I’m out to get you and shit. It’s a valid fear.” Shuri chuckled once again now sliding off of her bike choosing to lean against. Shuri held no fear in her heart for N’Jadaka. “But, I want you to know there’s no hostility between you and me. You ain’t have shit to do with that. As a matter of fact with my status out here and your smarts. We could team up. Run the biggest most undetictable operation Brick District ever seen.” Shuri shakes her head a smirk on her face, leaning against her bike. 

“You do realize I’m 16 right?” 

“Yea. But you mature and shit, and you got heart lil nigga. You ain’t scared of shit. That’s the brilliance of it man. Nobody would suspect you. The genius girl trying to stay under the radar. Trying to denounce her fathers name. No one would ever believe you would get back into this shit.” 

“Because wouldn’t.” Shuri says matter of factly, crossing her arms over her chest and crossing her legs at the ankle. Killmonger scanned her. Taking note of her calm demeanor. Not an ounce of fear detected. He smirked. He admired that about Shuri. Young and fearless.

“Wouldn’t you though? I know y’all over there struggling. Your sister has a lot to say when she’s off a bean. You 16 working the fucking mines to keep food on the table. That ain’t no life for a child man.”

“But dealing is?” Shuri’s eyebrow raised as her voice went up an octave. “If you give so much of a fuck why not help us? You’ve got it right?”

“Nah, I don’t give shit for free. Family or not. You earn your keep. Your traitor ass daddy taught me that.” 

“Well, I am not my father.” N’jadaka took the moment to lean out of the window. Taking a slow drag, blowing smoke into Shuri’s face.

“Wrong lil cuz. You’re the most like your father. You can’t outrun that shit.” Staring into N’jadaka’s eyes, Shuri bit into her cheeks jaws clenching. Tension building in the loud silence.”

From the corner of her eye Shuri sees you rushing over your bag thrown over your shoulder. N’Jadaka’s eyes follow Shuri’s, a smile spreads across his face. 

“That’s you?” Shuri’s eyes cut over to him. Her face warming up slightly.

“What?” Taking notice he teases a bit more.

“That pretty little lady walking over this way. That your girl?” Suddenly the calm demeanor that Shuri wore earlier was becoming a bit less cool. 

“What are you talking about?” 

N’jadaka throws his head back laughing. He found it. A weakness. “Don’t play coy with me. I know you don’t think you give off you like boys vibes.” Shuri’s face flushed. 

“Kiss my ass.”

“She’s a lil cutie.” He chuckles as you approach.

“Hey.” You say to Shuri and Shuri only, as you walk up looking between the two. 

“Hey.” Shuri says grabbing her helmet. 

“Heeeeey.” Killmonger says a smile taking over his face. You stare at him face upturned in disapproval. He lets out a hardy laugh at this.

“Yea she’s the one for you lil cuz. Looks like you and your lil lady friend got somewhere to be. So I’ll let you go.” He smiles looking you over and then turns his attention back to Shuri. “Remember what we talked about. You know where to find me.” You and Shuri watch as he slowly drives away. 

“You ok?” You ask turning towards Shuri.

“Yea. I’m cool. Just N’jadaka being himself.”

“Well whatever that was stay away from it. I know Killmonger doesn’t want anything good from you.” Turning to look at you. Shuri bites her lip nodding her head. 

“Yea.” She whispers to herself. “Let’s go.”

The two of you now sat on the bed in Shuri’s room lit by candle light. Studying using a small lantern for light. You’d brung a small wireless speaker that kept a great charge. Soft music played as you two studied and ate the food and snacks you’d snuck from home. Shuri had to admit she was grateful that you’d stayed. With you with her, her struggle didn’t feel so much like struggle. You’d made the night pleasant. The two of you talking and laughing as though this was just a normal sleep over.

“Ok. I think I got it now. I feel confident that I can ace this test now.” Shuri’s eyes lit up as she smiled at you.

“You were always gonna ace the test. You know this stuff.” You smile back at her looking into her eyes.

“Yea.” You say softly. The two of you sat in silence for a moment as music played softly in the background. Shuri layed back in her bed. Closing her eyes her hands resting behind her head. She seemed content in the moment as you looked her over. You recognized that when you looked at Shuri. When you were around Shuri, something felt different. Shuri in the few years you’d know her had grown to be your best friend. However, something about the friendship the two of you had seemed like more. It was weighing heavily on your mind as you continue stealing slight glances at Shuri, and you couldn’t hold it anymore. 

“Shuri?” You say breaking the silence.  

“Hm?” She reply’s her eyes still closed.

“Do um wh-why…We never talk about crushes and stuff.” You say mentally face palming. Real smooth Y/n. Your heart was pounding and your palms started to sweat a bit. Shuri’s eyes slowly opened as she turned to face you hearing your nerves through the question. She sat up clearing her throat a bit her nerves picking up a bit as well. 

“W-what do you mean?” 

“I’m just saying that we’ve been friends for awhile, and we’ve never talk about people we like or anything. Is that weird?” Shuri is silent for a moment. Her mind reeling a bit. Where did this come from?

“Uh..I mean yea. I-I guess. Is that something you want to talk about with me?” Shuri’s heart was dropping into her stomach. The last thing she wanted was to have to talk to the girl she loved about some boy she was crushing on. But, she had to have seen this coming right. This was the cherry on top of a shitty day.

“I don’t know.” You whisper. “But we’re bestfriends, we should want to right?”

“I guess…So do you? Do you like someone?” Shuri didn’t want to know this in the slightest. 

“I-I think I do. I’m not sure.” Shuri felt her heart shatter. She nods and for some reason she as much as this conversation was breaking her she’d decided to continue. 

“W-who is he?” You shake your head.

“It’s a she.” Shuri’s back straightened her interest fully peaked now. A girl. You liked another girl? Shuri’s heart was now pounding.

“You like girls?” 

“I never really thought about it before. But, I do know I like her and it feels like it’s in more than a friendly way.” 

“Oh.” Shuri felt like she could cry. You liked girls and you still didn’t see her that way.

“What about you? Is their anyone who’s caught your eye?” Shuri sighs

“It wouldn’t really matter. It’s not like anyone would be interested in dating me around these parts. Maybe I’ll be more experienced when I go to college.” She says softly. You move a bit closer to her grabbing her hand.

“That’s what you really think? That noone is interested?” Shuri nods, she could feel herself falling into a pit. Feeling a bit more alone again. Knowing you were interested in women and yet she still had no chance. 

“There’s no one that you’ve been interested in though.” You press a bit. Shuri brings her gaze up studying your face. 

“Yea.” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “She’s perfect too. More beautiful than I could ever describe. But, like I said she isn’t interested.” A lump forms in your throat. 

“A girl? Y-you like girls too?” Shuri smirks slightly. “I’m not sure. But, I know I like her.” She says and the butterflies take over your belly as your gazes lock onto eachother. You don’t know what comes over you but, you can no longer hold your tongue. 

“I see the way you look at me Shuri.” She freezes. Heat over taking her body. 

“H-huh?”

“The long glances when you think I’m not looking. I see them.” Shuri’s hand begins to shake nervously. She’s left speechless. She has no idea what to say. So you continue. “I-If I’m the girl you’re talking about…I’d say I’m definietly interested. Because you’re who I’m talking about.” You swallow your nerves. Figuring it was now or never. Shuri’s jaw dropped, She felt as if a sudden jolt of electricity had coursed through her veins leaving her momentarily stunned.

She couldn’t lie and say she that wasn’t something she did. She could hardly consentrate around you. Ofcourse at one point or another you would’ve seen her. Now here you were under the glow of candlelight. Your pretty skin lit to perfection. Using those beautiful lips to tell her you felt the same and she couldn’t utter a word. 

“I only saw because when you weren’t looking I was stealing glances too. I guess you were too busy thinking no one wanted you to notice.” Shuri finally finds her voice though it comes out soft and breathy. The way her heart was pounding making it difficult for her to breath. 

“I-I wanted to s-say something. I just didn’t want to lose you. Y-you’re just so much more than a crush to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You entered my life at the lowest point. My family lost its protector and we were being shunned. Life as I’d known it was over. I thought I’d never know what it was like to love and be loved again. And then this pretty girl with big eyes, and big hair, that always smelled like a bakery came out of nowhere. Dried my tears, fed me, cared for me. The love you have for me gets me through. You rescued me Sthandwa sami. I couldn’t risk loosing you. I don’t even like thinking about a life without you.” 

Oh, to be loved. That was the day you felt it. The day you found out what it was to truly feel and be loved. Tears fell from your eyes. Now you were the one left speechless. Shuri reached up cupping your cheek in her hand wiping away your tears with her thumb.

“Y/n?..” Her voice gentle.

“Yes.” You breathe.

“Can I kiss you?” Your heart fluttered as you nod lightly. It was like a gravitational pull, the way your lips slowly found eachothers. A sweet innocent peck placed on one another’s lips. And then another, and then another, until your lips would not unglue. Shuri leaned back into the headboard and you slowly climb onto her lap as her arms snacked around your waist. 

And there the two of you found home.

Needing to breathe the two of you part looking into eachothers eyes cheeks warming as you break out into a giggle.

“Wow.” You say. Shuri smiles, her thumbs rubbed gentle circles into your sides as she looked up at you. 

“So…Um Would you like to be my girlfriend?” Shuri asked softly still a bit unsure. Still hardly believing this was happening. The smile on your face could’ve lit the night. 

“Of course I do.” Shuri bit her lip to contain her excitement. Leaning up to place another gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You have to promise me something.”

“Anything.” She says without an ounce of hesitation in her voice.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, I know life is doing a number on you even now. It’s made you have to mature much faster than the rest of us I know. There may not be much that I can do to make things easier for you. But, I can be here. I know one day we’re going to get out of the bricks. We’ll be happy living out our dreams. You’re so gifted I know you’ll have to leave at some point to bring evolution to the world. Even then, if we loose eachother along the way and the world you find brings you hard times, I’ll always be here.” You place your finger onto her chest where her heart thumped loudly. “Wherever I am in the world. No matter how shunned, or ostracized you feel. Know that I love you, not out of any obligation. Simply because I want to. Remember I’ll never be to far for you to come home to. My arms will always keep you safe and warm. Promise me you’ll remember that.”

You poured out your heart as tears streamed from both of your eyes. Her hands gripped tighter against your hips as she shook with emotion. There were no words she could be said to make you understand the security you’d given Shuri with your statement. All she could do was lean forward placing her lips to yours. Inside that kiss you felt her promise.

The two of you fell sound asleep in eachothers arms that night. Your hands pressed delicately pressed against eachother hearts. The next morning Shuri drops you off at school, sending you off with a light kiss and encouragement for your exam. She wouldn’t be going to school today she had to hustle up money to get her lights turned on at home. She went to her job working an early shift seeing if she could get a loan. They were willing but she could get it until the next week. She went home searching for anything of value to pawn. But their valuables had been taken by the police after her father had passed. She was hitting a dead end on all fronts. 

Shuri found herself riding aimlessly through The Bricks. Wind blowing through her shirt. Stress weighing heavily on her shoulders. As she rode she found herself traveling a familiar path. One she hadn’t been to since her father was alive. One she vowed to never step foot in again. Her bike came to a stop in front of a massive warehouse. She swore she’d never resort to this life. Now here she was tail tucked between her legs going back to the only life she’d known. She closed her eyes and let out a small breath before taking off her helmet and hopping off of her bike, making her way around the back of the building. She banged on the door hard 3 times, and soon after a latch opened and a pair of eyes appeared through the Judas hole. 

“What you need?”

“I’m here for N’jadaka.”

“Who dat?” Shuri rolled her eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about. I’m not calling him fucking Killmonger.” She hears laughter come from the other side of the door.

“Let her in Hemp.” The door opens and Shuri steps in. Topless women cooked dope and men counted racks of money. Flashes of her brother walking down the stairs with his infectious smile went through Shuri’s mind. Her mother strutting through the rows of women making sure the coke was perfectly distributed. Shuri’s eyes scanned over the building until they land on Killmonger. Visions of her father sitting dressed to the nines a cigar placed in between his lips. “You’re my prized possession intomba. I do this all for you.” He would say. She shook off the memories. Her gaze locking onto N’Jadaka’s who sat leaned back in the sitting area, a telling smile on his face. Shuri made her way over to him.

“Little cousin. Here so soon. How can I help you?” Shuri’s jaw clenched a bit. Angry with herself for being here. She stands there quietly. Her eyes looking ove all of Killmongers henchmen. He immediately got the hint. She wasn’t going to speak until they cleared area. He signaled for the men to leave and they all filed out. Shuri threw a glance over her shoulder, before turning her attention back towards him. 

“I need your help.” She says m, undertones of defeat in her voice. 

“Help? What kind of a help?” 

“I need a job…and a loan. I won’t beat around the bush. The mines isn’t cutting it. Mama’s in hospice and Cha’s useless. The lights are out in the apartment and I have to figure out how to keep up with the rent and utilities so they dont suspect I’m there alone, or I’m going into the system.” Her head drops as she bites into her cheeks. “And my girl..I don’t want her to be with a bum. She deserves the best and I want to be able to give it to her.” He leans forward his elbows settled on his knees, as he looks Shuri over. 

“Ah..young love. It’s a beautiful thing.” He says pulling out a blunt placing it to his lips before sparking it up. “Sounds like you’re in a bad way….You thought about this? This is really what you want to do?” She nods and speaks.

“I have conditions.” He smirks. 

“Ofcourse you do.” Shuri rolls her eyes in response.

“You gotta let me go after I graduate. I want out of all this the day of graduation. I just need this to stay on my feet for a couple of years. And I need whatever you have me do to be low profile.” 

N’jadaka nods understandingly. He stands and walks over to a safe entering the code. Once it’s opened he pulls out a stack of money, walking over to Shuri placing the money in her hand. 

“That’s twenty thousand. Take that as a welcome to the family business gift.” He says with a smirk. Shuri stared at the money in her hands. She hadn’t seen this much money at once in years. “What do I have to do for this?” N’Jadaka shakes his head aware of Shuri’s distrust. 

“I was serious about what I said yesterday. I don’t want you out on the corners. I would prefer that we were partners. That big brain of yours could make us some real money. So for the next two years I’d like for you to be here with me. Help me revamp my operation and graduation day you’re free to live your life.”

“So you want me to be your right hand?”

“Exactly.”

“I get 50/50.”

“Done”

“Minimum visibility.”

“Almost none exisistence.”

Shuri’s jaw clenches in thought as she took in her surroundings. “I’m not getting my hands dirty N’Jadaka. Business operations is my job. I tell you what to do, you pass it along. I come in weekdays when the sun sets and for emergency’s only. Deal?” Killmonger places out a hand to shake, and Shuri takes it.

“Deal lil Udaku. You’re quite the bargainer. I look forward to doing business with you. See you Monday.” Shuri nods. Placing the money into her jacket pockets. 

“See you Monday.”

I think back on that day often. Wondering just where would I be if I’d just toughed out the struggle for awhile. But, I didn’t. And that decision haunts me to this day.

That’s where it all began. The day I fell in love and simultaneously ruined my life.

#Spotify #shuri fanfiction #shuri angst #shuri black panther #shuri imagine #shuri fic #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuriri #shuri x you #Letitia Wright

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?

Word count: 2K

A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??

Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.

“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”

Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.

Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.

“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”

“We?” you repeat.

Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 

Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  

Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.

“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”

You’re not even sure what you’re asking.

“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”

You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.

You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.

“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”

“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”

You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.

“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”

“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”

Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 

“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”

You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”

You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.

“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”

You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?

“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.

“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”

You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 

You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?

Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”

You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  

When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  

The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  

When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.

The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  

“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.

Without you.

Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  

“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.

He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”

Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”

His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”

You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”

Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  

“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”

You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”

His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”

The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 

“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”

“What will you do when they leave you?”

The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”

You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”

“And then some,” he answers.  

You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  

“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”

In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”

“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  

“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”

Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 

“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”

You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”

“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.

“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”

Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  

“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”

“All in good time,” Gale answers.  

“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 

You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.

You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”

This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid

#reborn into bg3 #reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #astarion x reader #gale x reader #raphael has entered the fray #reader insert #x reader #is this angsty?

[khayalli]

The gentle rap-tap-tap on the window startles you from the late night daze you'd been in. Blinking, rubbing your eye's, you try to clear the fog and blue light you're still lost in as you look up from the computer, having not realised just how much the dark has now enveloped your room save for the light from your computer.

"Donnie?" you ask.

He's standing outside the window, wearing only his purple hoodie. Immediately concerned by how little he's wearing and how freezing cokd it is tonight, you hurry kver from your computer to open the window. You shudder as the brittle cold sweeps in like an old friend. But then again, so does Donnie.

Pulling you into the thick of his hoodie, your face is pressed firm into the thread where the ice has settled deep deep into the cotton, like tiny frost particles, so small that your naked eye cannot see them, but so real that they summon goosbumps as they bite and melt against your skin.

"Mm, you're warm," he murmurs. His voice is low in his chest as it rumbles, like a campfire burning late before it slowly dies, snuffed out by the cool dead of the night.

"And you're freezing," you say, swiftly pushing him back to get a better look at his face.

His eyes are heavy with the weight of something he's spent far too long mulling over in a jail of his own making. A cell of himself. He does this sometimes. Forget's that he has people he can go to, people he can depend on who can help solve his problems with him instead of ruminating through the data all on his own and yet still somehow managing to come to the wrong conclusion.

The 'logical' conclusion, in his words.

"Donnie, what's wrong?" you ask. You frown at the feeling of his cold hands as they interlock with your own. You were already think about how cold it was, here in the apartment, and yet, by comparison, you're as warm as a flue.

"It happened again," he says, voice going croaky as it crumbles like chalk. His lips curve downwards and his eyes become wet with the memory of something he's already had to live over and over and over again. A reoccuring nightmare, one of a world where there's only pain and never joy; only darkness but never light; only him, and not...

"...Would you like to try and sleep here tonight?" you ask softly, seeing him slowly come back from reliving that pain somewhere deep deep behind those dark and beautiful eyes of his.

He nods, quiet and slow as he blinks back the tears and tries to maintain that cool composure he likes to wear like a shield. You wonder if he knows you've already worked out just how soft that shield really is.

"Let's get you out of this," you say, pulling his hoodie up over his head. "And into a warm bed."

Taking his hand, you toss the cold garment over onto the chair where you’d been sitting and working late, and guide Donnie towards the bed. You pull back the covers to crawl in first, and Donnie is quick to follow. He snuggles into the space between your legs as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist to breathe you in and feel you close.

"You're like a hot water bottle," he mumbles against your pajamas.

You consider making a joke about how cold he is, but seeing the way his eyes fall closed as he let's himself relax against you, you resort to drawing lines over the back of his soft shell instead. You feel him tense, feel him squeeze you a little tighter, and then he chokes.

"...I couldn't save him—"

"Hey, hey, hey," you coo as you wrap your hands around his head. You run your thumb against rhe underside of his cheek to try and soothe him as he shakes. "You did, though. You did save Leo. Remember? Mikey got him out!"

"But he's not the same." He trembles like a leaf lost in a tempest in your arms. "He can't sleep. He just... disappears sometimes and doesn't tell me where or why he goes. Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes like he’s not even here anymore, like he's... he's..."

"...Like he’s still trapped in that dimension?"

He sniffles. "...Yeah..."

"Donnie," you say, wiping away a stray tear as it rolls over the fabric of his mask. "Your brothers are here. All of them. I'm sure you went and checked on them before you came to me, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Leo... he might not be the same Leo as before. He just needs more time. To heal."

He looks up at you with eyes like that of a dog that looks to the moon. Loyal, loving, and hanging on every word.

"He'll come back to you. He will. You don't have to do it alone. You have your brothers. And you have me. We can help him together."

#OH MY GOD?????? #well now i need to draw devastated donnie #or leo #HMMMMMMMMMMMMM #hmmmmmmmmmm hurt comfort hmmmmmmm #fic recs #faves #THANK YOU ALSO?!!?!? #my initial reactions were wondering if you got lost but im taking my wins where i get them #MINE NOW BAYBEEE

[chocor0se]

excerpt from my reverse robins tim-centric au where tim dies and stephanie tries to kill the joker (it doesn’t work out)

Bruce couldn’t help it as he fell on his hands and knees, pain surging through his body. He needed to get to the Joker before he could recover, Tim would want him to focus on the mission.

He could barely move though, the paralyzation drug was still exiting his body. Bruce tried moving his hand so he could reach for his com and ask for backup(begrudgingly), when Spoiler came down from the previously broken skylight of the abandoned warehouse.

“Spoiler,” He said, voice raggedy, “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” Steph didn’t answer, her eyes focused on the Joker’s body as he slowly raised himself up. Shit, Bruce had to get to the Joker fast.

Bruce willed himself to his feet as Steph stared down at the Joker’s smiling face, and that’s when he saw what was in her hand. A gun.

“Spoiler, what are you doing?” He was ignored, again.

Steph slowly lifted the gun, preparing to shoot. The Joker grinned,

“Well well well, looks like one of your little bats has a screw loose, just like me!” The Joker could barely move, he was still on his knees and yet he smiled like he was the one in control here. “Well, do it Spoiler. Shoot me.”

Stephanie’s gaze turned violent, “You..you killed him. You killed my best friend,”

The Joker laughed at her rage, “I honestly expected better than the fight he put off, I guess the little bat was never really good at flying was he?”

“Shut up, shut up!” Spoiler yelled at him, “You killed him, so I’m returning the favor!” She released the safety.

“Spoiler!”

Bruce watched helplessly, his body still-though he didn’t know if it was from the drug or the shock-as he saw Steph aim, and fire.

BANG

The shot echoed throughout the building like a crash of thunder. The Joker staggered as he touched the bullet wound, straight through his right thigh. Even from a distance Bruce saw Steph’s shaking hands.

“Ha! Hahahahahah! I guess even you don’t have the guts to do it, kid,” The Joker giggled, “But seriously, what a show! The way you were so determined to kill me, and you don’t even-“

Black Bat appeared behind him suddenly, knocking the Joker out and handcuffing him. Bruce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Cass walked up to Bruce, putting his arm over her shoulders to help him walk. He looked over to Spoiler, but she was gone.

The two bats looked at each other, then the Joker. The GCPD would take care of him, they had a bat to catch.

It took about an hour and a half, but they found her on a rooftop a few streets away. Barely anyone lived in the area, and even less worked there at night.

Steph was sitting on the ledge, her legs dangling over the roof. Her mask and hood were off, revealing the fragile girl underneath.

“Let me guess,” She said, as they had made their presence on the roof clear, “A lecture on why I have to keep the mask on at all times to protect my identity plus one about why we don’t kill?”

Bruce didn’t respond, he didn’t really know how to.

Cass did.

She walked up and sat on the ledge as well, pulling Steph in for a hug.

“Hugs make everyone feel better.”

“Not me.”

“…”

“..Maybe a little.”

Bruce walked closer to his two girls, placing a hand on Steph’s shoulder.

“I,” Steph started, “I wanted to kill him so bad. I was so ready to shoot him in the head, let him burn in hell. But Tim’s stupid voice kept ringing in my head,” She wiped her eyes with a broken smile on her face, “Bats don’t kill. Killing isn’t the right way to do things. He always followed the rules that he thought were right.”

Steph stood up, shrugging Cass away. She was trying not to cry, but tears kept spilling out of her eyes, “Why couldn’t I do it? He killed my best friend, I should’ve done it. I-I-“

Listen Bruce, I’m saying this because I’m dead now, so you won’t have me to help you with this. Please don’t close yourself off. People need you. Your…our family needs you. Don’t be the cold, emotionless Batman or the violent, angry one.

Be the one who took in Duke Thomas after his parents were jokerized, the one who took in Damian, and Steph and Cass and however more kids you’re gonna gain in the future. Please, Dad. I love you, meeting everyone was the best thing that ever happened to me. Goodbye.

Bruce took off his cowl, interrupting Steph’s sentence. And finally, he let himself cry with her. He saw Steph’s shock as the tears started dripping down his face. Tim’s death had broke him, but he would put himself back together for the ones that had broke alongside him.

He could see Steph’s walls break down, and she started bawling. Her face red as she screamed and cried and all Bruce could do was pull her in for a hug, and that was enough for now.

Cass joined them seconds later, her crying less violent but still noticeable. The three broken bats stayed like that for a while, just themselves and their tears accompanying them.

Later Steph would tell Bruce that she couldn’t be Spoiler anymore.

“I made Spoiler with him,” she would say, “And without him I don’t know if I could do it again. Don’t get me wrong though, I’ll still be a vigilante. Tim wouldn’t want me to quit because of him.”

“Then who will you be?” Bruce would ask her.

“…My favorite color’s purple, that’s why my costume’s purple. His favorite color was red.” She’d take a deep breath before continuing, “I’m going to become the Red Hood.”

Bruce would stay quiet a few seconds before replying, “Alright then. I will support you in whatever you need.”

And that’s how the Red Hood was born.

…

Far, far away, Timothy Drake-Wayne would kill his first person, and he would never be the same again.

#could be interpreted as timsteph #but i probably won’t write it intended that way #this is actually all i’ve written… #tim drake #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #dc joker #reverse robins #reverse robins au #batfam #writing #fanfiction #robin #batman #red hood stephanie brown

[madaqueue]

playlists

what a waste | "army dreamers" x kate bush

synopsis: on what would have his twentieth birthday, you visit geto's grave

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. death/loss.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: here's some angst bc i've been in a mood for the past few days and am allergic to being happy!

The grass is damp under your skin, the rain from this morning clinging to your clothes, the smell of wet earth lingering despite the absence of clouds in the sky. This is the closest it’s gotten to raining on this day in years, what would be a sign of late winter opening into spring, but today it just feels dreary and cold.

Sighing, you place the bouquet of lilacs - his favorites - onto the stone, careful to not cover the plaque adorning the granite. At this point you could recite it in its entirety without needing to see it, the words burned into your mind from the countless days you spent reading and rereading it, hoping that the shape of the characters would finally make it sink in.

Suguru Geto

Cherished and loved.

The epitaph still feels halfhearted, empty. Even though you and Satoru spent weeks trying to figure out what to write, everything you came up with felt hollow, unable to capture his essence. You wanted to do him justice, but you just couldn’t; he’s more than a plot of land and some words engraved in stone.

Of course, it’s a moot point: the grave is empty, anyways. After the fight against Toji, Shoko had to completely destroy his body, the risk of it being used maliciously too great. A shudder runs down your spine as you picture it, the cruelty of using your best friend’s corpse for something malevolent.

Would he notice? Would it bother him to know what had happened to his flesh? What makes a person, anyways; is it the body, or is it something else? You hope he doesn’t mind what had to happen to him after his heart quieted and his breathing stilled.

Are you at peace, Suguru?

You can’t help but wonder if, after everything, death brought him a respite from the pain he endured while alive. You knew the nature of his cursed technique, the necessary consumption of evil; in absorbing it, did it make him, too, evil? Was he plagued by the darkness he was destined to destroy?

You hope not. Despite the wickedness he witnessed, he nevertheless dreamed, hoping for a brighter future.

–

“What did you wanna be when you were a kid?” you ask through a mouthful of ramen.

Suguru sits across from you in the booth, forearms resting on the table as he eats his lunch. “What do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“What did you want for a job? There’s no way you wanted to be a sorcerer,” you chuckle. “Like, I wanted to be one of those people who makes the cool brick patterns along sidewalks.”

He holds back a laugh at your answer. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I ever really thought about it.” He pauses, taking another bite of his food. “But I guess if I had to pick, probably a musician or something, maybe guitar, I always liked how they could make something sound beautiful with just their hands,” he muses softly.

“I could totally see you on a sick guitar,” you grin.

“Yeah, but I got my cursed technique too early. I never really got a chance to do anything but this,” he shrugs. “Maybe in another life.”

“Maybe,” you smile.

–

Now, the guitar you picked out for him, an acoustic one crafted in dark wood, sits in the back of your closet collecting dust. You were supposed to give it to him for his birthday. He was supposed to play it. He was supposed to be here, be alive, be celebrating with you.

Pain shoots up your palm as you look down, realizing your hands have been clenched into fists, your nails beginning to draw blood. Shaking out your arms you take in an uneven breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself.

All the things he never got to do.

“I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper to yourself, placing a bloodied hand over the grass covering his grave.

He should be here. He never even got to turn twenty, never got to have kids or the family he wanted, hell, he was just a kid himself when he died. Just a fucking kid.

–

“That…that can’t be right,” you stammer. “There’s no way.”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru places a hand on your back, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I - fuck - I couldn’t save him. I was too late.”

“No, no, no, no,” you begin to spiral, gaze rapidly shifting over the ground as you process his words.

Suguru was dead. Killed by a man named Toji Fushiguro, trying to protect the Star Plasma Vessel, the one who was supposed to assimilate with Master Tengen.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened,” Satoru chokes out, “But…I saw his body. He’s gone.”

A scream echoes down the corridor - was it yours? Everything feels far away as Gojo wraps his arms around you, sobs racking your body as you cry into one another.

–

Shaking your head, you wipe the tears that have begun to fall as you remember the day you lost him. Despite the years that have passed, you remember it like it was yesterday, the way the setting sun covered you and Satoru as the night air came in, unable to move from that spot as you wept together.

The sickest fucking part was that it didn’t even matter.

When Riko Amanai, the Vessel, was found dead, they just got a replacement, another body to stand in for Master Tengen’s needs. They told Suguru to protect her with his life and he did, but ultimately the loss of hers was inconsequential to the upkeep of Jujutsu society; just as one flower died they plucked another.

But they couldn’t regrow Suguru’s soul.

–

Four men.

That’s how many it took to carry his body from the basement of Jujutsu High. You watched in silence as they passed you, unspeaking, unwavering, unbothered as they bore his weight.

It feels wrong, somehow, like he should be heavier. He always had this gravitational pull, this universe-sized soul that drew everything to him - shouldn’t they be able to feel that?

How heavy is a body? How heavy is the grief it carries?

–

“Hey,” a voice pulls you back to the present, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky as you ground yourself, idly tugging at the dirt beneath you. “I’m glad to see you,” Satoru greets warmly as he walks across the graveyard towards you.

Since the last time you saw him he’s aged, the creases around his eyes deeper than a twenty-year-old’s should be, an air of sadness clinging to him like wet clothes after being caught in the rain.

“You too,” you smile as he sits next to you in the damp grass.

Neither of you explicitly make plans to see each other here every year, yet you both tacitly know you wouldn’t miss this, the annual reconvening one you simultaneously cherish and dread. Suguru deserves to be celebrated, but it’s also a reminder of the time he didn’t get, the birthdays cut short when his life was stolen from him.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, content without speaking as a cool breeze picks up, dusk settling in.

“He should be here,” Satoru mutters, his knees tucked up to his chest.

“I know,” you murmur as you lay on your back, gaze unfocused on the darkening sky above you.

Another momentary pause falls between you.

“Did you love him?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully. “Did you?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Satoru?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you think that was enough, that we loved him?”

He tilts his head to look down at the grave that separates you, the lilacs you brought now lightly covered in a layer of dew. Sighing, he brushes away the tears that had been forming along his lash line. “I hope so.”

“I hope so, too.”

He reaches an arm out to you, holding your hand in his as you both place your empty palms onto the dirt.

“Happy birthday, Suguru,” you whisper.

#screaming SOMEBODY SEDATE ME #q writes #drabbles #playlists #angst #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[chloeseyeliner]

my sociology professor has been giving off wild mr. Keating vibes from the very beginning of the semester.

last week,he even commented on a girl's tote bag that has "carpe diem" written on it and asked her to tell the whole class what it meant to seize the day for her.

(rip to that girl,I would probably die were I her but she seemed quite fine with it and her answer was really great.

honestly,the way the guy said these two little latin words that made me enter this movie's world in the first place,two and a half years ago,the tone of his voice...was so.mr.Keating.it.hurts.)

so,you can imagine my utter excitement when today,two months in,someone said something (very specific,I know,but I cannot remember what they were talking about now,I am sorry!) and the guy answered,smiling:

"Dead Poets Society it is today, then,guys,okay,I guess!"

like,I was so right about him.

#the guy also came to me before this presentation almost a month ago when I was actually so anxious anyway we don't care about me #and he tried to joke around and made us all in the project team laugh a little bit idk how #it did not really help I was still shaking but it's over now so #till the next one I guess #haha #anyway if I could I would be his Todd but I avoid participating in class and even look at all the professors like hell #dw performance of this manner is not mandatory in my country's legislation for unis if it was I would have to because ✨academic validation✨ #only the one hundred essays and analyses per week are obligatory hahhaa #anyway enough rambling #I am so annoying lmao #sorry!!! #dead poets honor #I will stop #dead poets society #mr keating #dps #carpe diem

[the-fidgety-fiddler]

Drove for the first time in 3 years today and I got tailgaited, brights-flashed, followed, and cussed at by a strange man in a stupid sports car after doing literally Nothing wrong

#i was so scared to start driving after getting narcolepsy diagnosis and taking such a long break but i finally felt brave enough with my #meds and stuff and i wanted to take my cousin out. she is also driving now so she was copiloting and helping me the whole time and neither #of us can figure out what happened... it was so weird. im still shaking and teeth chattering like an hour later and my tics are really bad #now thanks a lot you jerk. its always sports cars and pick up trucks i swear... but ive never had this happen #and i havent driven in a while but we really eased into it in the neighborhoods first and stuff and then this happened on a backroad with #minimal traffic... #ive always been a very confident and defensive driver and i cant think of anything i was doing that could have ticked the guy off... it was #so weird. #he literally pulled over and put his hazard lights on bc he was in front of me. and as soon as i went around him he jerked his car over #right behind me really fast and then did all of the stuff i mentioned #he wasnt following us for long so we didnt have to call the police or anything but it was so scary i hate california drivers #my post