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cannibalizedyke · 2 years

Text

Inspiration

Isadora Quagmire x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,315

Warnings: none :)

Summary: You're hopelessly in love with Isadora Quagmire, and you know she can't possibly feel the same. Little do you know, Isadora Quagmire is hopelessly in love with you, and she is just as convinced that her feelings are unrequited.

A/N: I had motivation without ideas so I put fandoms, characters, and tropes into generator wheels and got A Series of Unfortunate Events, Isadora Quagmire, and mutual pining, and this was the result. I really love it, I'm not an Isadora simp and it's genuinely one of my favorite things I've ever written, so I hope you like it as much as I do!

You’d been in love with Isadora Quagmire since the day you first met her. She was beautiful, romantic, kind, intelligent - what wasn’t there to love? The only problem was you knew she wasn’t in love with you. You were a girl, for one thing, and you saw how she looked at your brother Klaus. What did you have that she could possibly want? You were quiet and bookish, and not even in that incredible, intelligent way Klaus was. You were just shy and distant, a hopeless romantic trying to be the main character of a story in which you only had a supporting role.

You read Isadora’s poem again, smiling to yourself as a blush covered your cheeks. You knew she didn’t mean anything by it; it was just a friendly little note meant for you, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny. But you couldn’t help but feel like it was meant just for you.

When I first met you I felt I could sing You don’t know the joy that your company brings

A couplet, Isadora’s favorite form of poetry. You hugged the slip of paper to your chest with a sigh, your smile widening despite yourself. The shack door opened and you shoved the poem underneath your pillow, trying - and failing - to regain your composure.

Your sister Violet walked in. “Hey, (Y/N). Are you okay? You seem a little… anxious.” She sat down beside you with a concerned smile.

“Me?” you said. “Oh, I’m- I’m fine, Violet, don’t worry about me. Just, uh… you know.”

Violet laughed. “No, (Y/N), I don’t know.”

You sighed. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” you whispered.

Violet’s expression turned even more concerned. “Of course not. Any secret you choose to share is safe with me.”

Your lip trembled and you covered your face, pulling your knees up to your body. “I’m in love with Isadora,” you whispered, almost incoherently. You peeked through your fingers to see Violet’s reaction.

Her mouth was open in surprise, and you thought she was upset until she pulled you into her arms for a hug. “I won’t tell a soul,” she said quietly.

“Thanks, Violet.” A few relieved tears slipped down your face and you wiped them away when the two of you pulled apart. “It’s really a relief to tell someone. I just… I wish she felt the same.”

“How do you know she doesn’t?” Violet asked gently.

You looked at her in bewilderment. “Come on, Violet. I’m- she’s not- “ You sighed. “Please don’t give me false hope.”

Violet looked at you sadly. “Okay. I understand. I just don’t think you should throw your feelings away because you don’t think anything will come of them.”

“I’m not throwing my feelings away,” you told her. “I’m just accepting the fact that they’re mine and mine only.”

Violet sighed. She took your hand and squeezed it once, then left the shack. You pulled Isadora’s poem out from under your pillow and laid down on your bed, letting your tears soak the blanket and the paper, and sobbing more when the wetness smudged the ink and made the poem unreadable. You cried until you couldn’t anymore, and then you laid there, panting and sniffling and curling in on yourself, until you fell asleep.

Isadora Quagmire had been in love with you since the day she first met you. You had a beautiful, quiet intelligence that captivated her from the moment she laid eyes on you. You rarely spoke; you watched from the sidelines, taking in everything and missing nothing, speaking only when you had something valuable to say - and goodness, was it always valuable. Every word that came out of your mouth took Isadora by an infatuated surprise, consuming her attention till nothing in the world existed but you. She only wished you were in love with her. But you weren’t - you couldn’t be. You were far too amazing, far too incredible for someone like Isadora, who spoke whenever she found the opportunity, just because she felt like writing a poem. Who missed everything that wasn’t abstract, only focusing on the nonsense her mind created and ignoring everything else.

She turned to her brother Duncan. “What do you think of this: “Your presence is a present “Whose contents are quite pleasant”

“It’s splendid, as are all your poems.” He sent her a sly smile. “Whom did you write it for?”

Isadora pinked. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Duncan said. “You don’t mean to tell me that poem wasn’t written for a certain Baudelaire?”

“I didn’t write it for Klaus,” Isadora said, annoyed.

“I wasn’t talking about Klaus,” said her triplet coyly.

Isadora was speechless. She regained her composure after a moment and cleared her throat. “Then I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If you say so.” Duncan turned back to the map he was drawing.

Isadora neatly wrote the poem on a slip of paper and left the broom closet, headed to the Baudelaire’s shack. She knocked once on the door and you answered in a moment, startling when Isadora’s face greeted you.

“Oh my goodness.” Isadora gasped. “(Y/N), you look terrible! Are you okay?” She realized how rude that sounded and quickly revised her words. “I mean, um, you still look good! You look really, really pretty, you always do! Just, um… you look like you’ve been crying.”

“Oh, I, um… I’m fine.” You faked a smile and invited her in.

She sat next to you on your bed and pulled out the poem. You were close - so close - and her breath hitched as your shoulder touched hers. “I, um, I wrote this for you.” She handed you the slip of paper and nervously watched you read it.

“It’s incredible,” you breathed, looking at her. “You wrote this for me? Or do you mean my siblings and me?”

“J- just you,” she clarified, biting her lip.

“Oh,” you said quietly, reeling from the discovery. “Why?”

“Because…” Isadora searched for an answer. “Because you… because I…” She sighed, then took your face in her hands and kissed you passionately, her soft sweet lips pressing against yours in an embrace you’d longed for as long as you’d known her.

“Isadora,” you whispered, staring at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “I know you don’t feel the same. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Isadora, no.” You gently tilted her head so she was facing you. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met.”

Isadora’s eyes fluttered in shock. “You- you have?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Isa,” you said, and she smiled at the nickname.

“I love you too,” she said. “I’ve loved you just as long as you’ve loved me.”

You smiled at each other, letting out laughs through tears as you kissed and kissed until neither of you could breathe. Neither of you could breathe, or believe this was really happening, but neither of you wanted it to end, and neither of you wanted to let go of the other until your bodies were one and there was nothing more to let go of. You kissed until you were dizzy, until you couldn’t think of anything but the taste of each other, until you were tired and breathless and giggling next to each other on the bed, trailing gentle fingers through each other’s hair and staring into the stars in each other’s eyes.

“I love you now and I loved you then “Kiss me so I can love you again”

You smiled at Isadora’s poem. “Did you write that just now?”

“What can I say?” She smiled back. “You inspired me.”

“I’m flattered,” you said with a giggle. You kissed her, pulling her body close and tangling your hands in your hair. “I love you,” you murmured.

“And I love you.”

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

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Unfortunate Events x Reader Masterlist:

not my gif // main masterlist

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VIOLET BAUDELAIRE: