#they also can’t seem to grasp that she’s at number one so often because she makes good music and people like listening to her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liillyliilly · 3 months

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In Time You Get Your Rewards

tsukishima kei x reader words; 6507 synopsis; love takes patience. a lot of patience for tsukishima kei. at least they could be friends for now.

Comparing the times on wrists was everyone’s favorite way to pass the time. Seeing if one’s time matched someone else’s before the time ‘officially’ ran out. Sometimes they would be correct and other times it wouldn’t. Tsukishima was obsessed with the time on his wrist. He thought that he spent much more time on the numbers on his wrist more than anybody else.

Because he still had time.

It seemed like everybody else had already found their soulmate. Most met through school, sometimes from when they were toddlers. But for Tsukishima it was an extreme source of embarrassment that he still had time on his left wrist.

He felt like it wasn’t fair that he hadn’t met his yet. The bitterness for the time on his wrist grew immensely when he started his first year in high school. He still had a little over six months before he could meet his soulmate. Yamaguchi found his before him, Hinata found his before him, even Kageyama Tobio found his.

Tsukishima often lay awake at night staring at the time slowly passing by. Second by second and then minute by minute. She did the same, sitting cross legged on her own bed staring at the time. They went to different schools, and had no idea about the other, but all the same they hyperfocused on that timer imprinted on their skin in black markings.

When Tsukishima played volleyball, he wrapped his wrist in bandages because the time ticking by would distract him from the game at hand.

After the game against Johzenji, he packs up. As Karasuno is exiting the gym, celebrating their wins, Tsukishima feels his wrist itch, he looks down to it and shifts the bandages slightly. While doing so, he bumps into someone.

“Hey! Watch where you’re walking!” She pouts as she puts her hands on her hips. She’s wearing the Aoba Johsai uniform. And she looks pissed. Tsukishima puts his hands up. A pang goes through his heart, but he can’t quite place it. He deems it an unfortunate side effect of playing volleyball for a whole day.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a garden gnome, I would have seen you. But hey, blame it all on me.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes, intending to try and walk past her, but he bumps into her shoulder again. That in turn seems to anger her even more.

“A garden gnome?” She purses her lips together and rolls up her sleeves, “You wanna go? I may be shorter than you but I can still pack a solid punch.” Two of the Aoba Johsai volleyball members come rushing up and tug her back by her arms. She’s still trying to swing her arms around, biting at her schoolmates and telling them to let her go. She even throws her leg out to try and get Tsukishima.

He mocks her with a short laugh, just stepping backwards to avoid the kick she was trying to aim at his shins.

“We are so sorry.” The Aoba Johsai teammates both bow profusely, apologizing in unison. When Oikawa Tooru storms up to the scene all hell breaks loose. She starts to tattle on Tsukishima to Oikawa, and Oikawa pouts a little, patting her on the head. Tsukishima is entertained by her, but also desperately wants to call her a range of insults, brat or crybaby being the top two options floating around in his head.

He can’t quite place another feeling deep within his stomach when Oikawa tugs on her arm and brings her into his side. Tsukishima raises an eyebrow when Oikawa holds onto her shoulder and uses his other hand to squish her face.

“Now, now, Kindaichi and Yahaba, let's hear our dear manager’s point of view. I know for a fact that L/N-chan almost never starts a fight without a reason.” Oikawa tries to settle everything, but the younger members of his team keep snapping and complaining about Tsukishima. Tsukishima felt like he did nothing wrong and just wanted to find a moment to escape. She lurches out of Oikawa’s grasp, but he pulls her back to prevent Tsukishima from getting mauled.

Tsukishima’s wrist is burning now. He rubs it against his leg, trying to ignore the pain.

Her wrist feels irritated as well. When she looks down, she gasps. Covering her mouth with her other hand, staring at her timer.

Sugawara finally takes notice of the scene and pulls Tsukishima away before anything can start. Tsukishima can hear Oikawa ask her what’s wrong, as Tsukishima is being dragged away by Suga. Her voice feels distant as she starts to cry a little bit.

Tsukishima feels tired from the long day as he walks home with Yamaguchi. The tingles of his wrist still emanate and he scratches at the bandages intermittently.

“Say, Tsukki, I wonder, it isn’t very smart of you to cover your soulmate timer.” Yamaguchi fiddles with his backpack straps. A volleyball keychain dangles down from the strap, his soulmate had gotten him that. Tsukishima wondered if his soulmate would do cringey things like that.

“What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you heard some of those urban stories, people hiding their soulmate timer end up meeting them but not realizing it. Then they have to wait longer until they pay attention and notice the timer.” Yamaguchi shrugs before walking off to his street. He turns around to yell a closing statement, cupping his mouth with his hands to amplify his voice, “Just something to think about!”

Leaving Tsukishima to stand at the crossroads.

When Tsukishima gets home, he gets a pair of scissors and cuts up the large bandages he used to cover his wrists, cutting the fabric to use for wrapping his fingers instead. Satisfied, he tucks the strips of fabric into his bag. While Tsukishima busied himself getting ready for bed, he never expected to see what he saw.

A ten-minute timer. He swallowed thickly, his hand went limp and his toothbrush fell onto the floor. He’d have to boil it in hot water to get the germs out, but he was too preoccupied with running down the stairs.

Going into the living room he stares at his mom with such an intensity that it frankly kind of scares her.

“Do you have people coming over?” The words spill out clumsily.

“I don’t think so, why?” She sets down the book she was reading to pay more attention to her son, who was obviously in some state of distress.

Tsukishima only holds his wrist up to show his mom. She gasps and then starts to smile. Loud and abrasive knocking is heard from the front door. Tsukishima looks at his mom, and she just waves him off to go answer the door. Tsukishima takes a deep breath before opening the door.

“Hey asshole.” She has her arms folded and she glares at him.

It was his ‘gnome’ from earlier in the day. She was still in an Aoba Johsai uniform, and while Tsukishima did prefer the black uniforms Karasuno had, he could see why some people liked the girls uniforms at Aoba Johsai better. The lilac skirt did have its positive attributes, mostly the length, or the lack thereof.

“Hey?” Tsukishima is taken aback. “You’re not exactly who I imagined to be my soulmate.”

“I didn’t exactly want an oblivious idiot who bumps into girls to be my soulmate either.”

Tsukishima smirks before pulling her in close. “So how exactly did you figure out where I live?” She pushes away from him using her hands against his chest. He wonders how close he can get, if it’ll trigger her fight response again, if he’ll get to see her threatening to punch him. He figures the closer he gets, the more likely he is to have annoying her down to a science.

Plus, they were soulmates, so she had to feel something for him regardless of if he was bothering her or not.

“You have a very nice manager.” She huffs.

Tsukishima thinks back to how Kiyoko was looking at him weird during the bus ride back to Karasuno. He doesn’t know if he’d call Kiyoko nice, especially since she forgot to tell Tsukishima that she’d run into his soulmate and then just didn’t bring it up at all.

“I’m Kei.” He holds out his hand. Better late than never to get to know her on a slightly more formal playing field.

She shakes his hand and introduces herself in return. The warmth that runs up from their hands into their arms is soothing, like getting to go to bed after a tedious day.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Tsukishima uses her hand to pull her into him. Wrapping his arms around her waist. She tries to pull away again, but gives up once Tsukishima reaches to poke her flat in between her eyebrows.

Tsukishima reasoned she was more bark than actual bite.

“Eh, I don’t know how nice an asshole can be.” She taps her chin with her index finger, still wiggling out of Tsukishima’s grasp.

“I can be nice when I want to.”

He kept trying to be nice to her, when he wanted to, the next year as well.

He responded decently quickly to her text messages at least. He even introduced her to his family. They would eat dinners together at each other’s houses, and she showed him how to bake all kinds of treats. He always pretended to not care for them, but when she let out a hum after eating a fresh cookie out of the oven, he just had to give in and eat one too.

Second year was easier to go through, minus the teasing from his friends about his soulmate. Tsukishima just couldn’t give them enough information for their liking.

“What’s she like?” A classmate had asked once.

Tsukishima leaned back in his seat for a second, thinking about how last week she had refused his offer to carry her bag when they went to get new pencils at the corner shop. He thought of the time she shoved her hand onto his face, covering his lips when he tried to lean in once during a movie at her house.

“She’s like me.”

The response from his seatmate was just a groan in dissatisfaction, “Well, that sure tells me a lot. She’s a sarcastic, son of a bitch weirdo with a music obsession who ends up with a dent in the top of their head from wearing those thick headphones.”

Tsukishima could handle those kinds of comments about himself, but when they were also applied to her, he felt like there was something off kilter in the universe. “She doesn’t use headphones, she prefers earbuds.”

“She prefers earbuds.” The seatmate lifted up his pointer finger and pretended to push up imitation glasses on his nose, mimicking Tsukishima. A few of the other classmates chuckled a little in response.

He just rolled his eyes. Then he pulled out his flip phone, sending her a quick message.

To- (soulmate 😐): i just defended your honor i should be rewarded

From- (soulmate 😐): no

To- (soulmate 😐): i wonder what i’ll be getting as my gift

From- (soulmate 😐): what do you want, i’m in class

To- (soulmate 😐): i want a reward for keeping your name clear from these hooligans i go to school with

From- (soulmate 😐): …

To- (soulmate 😐): wow

To- (soulmate 😐): you must really care about me

From- (soulmate 😐): sure do.

Tsukishima shoved his phone back into his pocket. Tapping his fingers along to the beat of the song playing in his headphones, the wood of his desk numbing his fingers a little bit from the resistance.

They were slowly becoming- something. He couldn’t sense if they were friends, more than friends, less than friends, or even in the realm of being in a relationship.

But she did give him encouraging words from time to time, such as his favorite thing she’s ever told him right before the Inter-High tournament began.

He had almost swooned dramatically when she had come up to him and told him, “I hope you don’t trip on your shoe laces and that you can make one half decent block,” before going back to her own team to hand out water bottles.

After the last day of the tournament, and Karasuno not making it to nationals, but rather Date Tech making it, she had found him sitting on a bench all alone near the laundry room of the gym.

She didn’t say anything. She just sat down next to him, bumping her knee into his.

“I don’t want to joke around right now. We almost had it in that last set.” Tsukishima felt bad for being so prickly with her, but he had completely fumbled some of his blocks and he felt like an embarrassment.

“I’m not making any jokes.”

What she did next did come as a surprise to him, she pulled his hand from how it was clasped with his other one, resting over his legs in front of him. She intertwined their fingers and pressed the back of his hand to her lips.

She mumbles something that he can’t quite distinguish, but then she pressed a kiss to each one of his knuckles. When she finished what seemed like a small ritualistic behavior, she rested their hands on her thigh.

Tsukishima held down a smirk that was attempting to crawl over his face. In an almost craving way, he broke his hand free, and instead gripped the expanse of her bare thigh, going as far as pushing his pinkie and ring finger under her skirt a little.

She makes eye contact with him and gives him a flat look.

“What?” He feigns ignorance so well he might as well be considered an imbecile of the highest regard.

“Yeah, right. I’ll let it slide because you’re being whiney and ornery.”

His smirk really did have a mind of its own. He wondered what else she’d let slide just because he was in a sour mood.

He pushed his hand up just a little more, but she gripped his wrist bringing his hand down to her knee instead of her thigh.

“Okay, that’s enough kindness and affection for one day.” She stood up, ruffling Tsukishima’s hair since she could now reach it while he was sitting down. “We can hang out at mine if you want later. You did great today Kei. Sometimes we just lose. That’s how life is. We lose and we win.”

He grabs her hand as it’s still in his hair.

The air is stagnant.

He looks up to her, brown eyes slightly narrowed but containing more in them than she could distinguish. She felt like he was studying her for an exam of sorts. She returned his glare with ease, looking right into his eyes.

“We’re so much alike it hurts sometimes.” He lets the words out softly, if she hadn’t been paying careful attention to him then the squeaks in the gym would’ve overpowered his voice.

“Well, that’s why we’re soulmates. Built in best buddies.”

She left him alone, to consider her words. Buddies?

What the hell did she mean by buddies?

At her house, Tsukishima felt comfortable. The moment he crossed the threshold, the smell of fresh linen, honey lemon tea and her shampoo overpowered any sort of smell he had carried with him throughout the day. He had gone home and changed into casual clothes, then he made his way to her house. The walk to her house was long enough to let him ponder, keeping his hands warm in the pockets of his zip up hoodie.

He slid the hood of his jacket down when her mom opened the door and greeted him, and he absorbed the feeling of being at her house. He had decided to not text her, assuming that she would know that he wanted to hang out.

“She’s in her room, you should be able to just go in. Does your mom know you’re here?” Her mom took Tsukishima’s jacket from him and hung it up on the coat rack.

“Yes she does. Do you need me to leave at a specific time?” Tsukishima remembered his manners and bowed in gratitude to the older woman.

“Well, if it was up to me, I’d be fine with you sleeping over instead. She’s the one you have to get through to.” When she laughed to herself a little, Tsukishima nodded, deciding to make his way down the stairs to the basement bedroom. He ignored the use of the word ‘instead’.

He never should ignore ‘instead’ because ‘instead’ hurts a lot more than he could realize.

In the moments following him opening her bedroom door, he got a shirt thrown at him and was witnessing something that made his jaw clench tighter than ever before.

“Kei, what-” She pushed the curly brown haired boy off her bed, he was shirtless, and the shirt Tsukishima was holding in his hands likely belong to Mr. Wide-Eyed-Frozen-in-Place.

“What- what-” He fake stuttered, replicating her reactive words, then he spat out, “What the hell more like it.”

The curly haired brunette looked between Tsukishima and her rapidly. He tried to cut the tension with a laugh. “I’m Ito, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, shut up you Dr. Suess-wanna be.” Tsukishima threw the shirt back at him. He scrambled to shrug it over his shoulders, Tsukishima then noticed that his shoulders were much broader than Tsukishima’s own. A self-consciousness that he didn’t know was possible crept up, crawling and leaching itself on each of the prongs on his spine. He shuddered.

“Well, I’m just gonna,” Ito went to hug her goodbye but a scoff from Tsukishima deterred the action.

Tsukishima folded his arms from where he was standing. She bit down on her bottom lip, lips that Tsukishima noticed were particularly swollen and plump.

“This is just great.” Tsukishima sat down next to her on the bed, she curled her feet up, so she could wrap her arms around her legs and rest her head on her knees. “I suppose that you’re one of those people who view the whole soulmate thing as arbitrary.”

“I suppose you’re one of those people who view soulmates as sacred then.” Tsukishima can tell she’s joking around a little. If there was anything to genuinely joke about then he would’ve been the one making the joke.

He shoved her legs a little, so she slipped on the bed and broke out of her fake shell of limbs.

“Ito?” Tsukishima posed.

She filled in the gaps, “Ito Yuuta, second year at Aoba Johsai, swim team captain, biggest dork I’ve ever met.” She did like him though, he was nice, he just didn’t have the same charming wit that Tsukishima had. She felt a little bit like a complete jerk now realizing that Tsukishima had seen her kissing someone who wasn’t him.

“So you’ll let just any loser kiss you then?”

“Just preparing myself for you, cutie pie.” She reaches out and pinches his cheek.

Tsukishima fake vomited, sticking a finger almost into his mouth.

They rubbed off the strangeness, and she mentally took a note to lose Ito Yuuta’s number.

She pursed her lips, “I’m not quite ready to be with you the way I think you want to be with me.”

His mouth goes dry, and he emptily chews, trying to break apart the stale taste in his mouth. He never realized just how serious it all could be. Soulmates at seventeen. The way that he perceives it is that, you’re supposed to be the one who knows you best, and intrinsically, your soulmate was supposed to be that. How are you supposed to be soulmates with someone if you didn’t even know them well enough to order their food at the corner store?

He figures this is the moment he makes a shift. He’d just have to work harder to get to know her. And he’d have to stake a claim. Maybe claim was the wrong word, but clarifying to her that they were something rather than nothing to each other was the highest priority.

“I got myself a stupid soulmate.” He chimed.

Instead of a funny retort from her, she just smiled. He laid back onto her bed, and she copied the motion. He had his hands on his stomach, tapping his abdomen. She rolled onto her side, brushing against his fringe a little.

“Just, uh, don’t go around kissing other dudes.” Tsukishima closed his eyes and brought a hand up to his face. “I sound totally batshit crazy. Do whatever you want, I just don’t want to witness whatever that was ever again.”

She laughed, and it was like they were in another world. They both agreed to just be friends, for now.

He wondered if they’d ever become more than this in-between. Was there an expiration on becoming something with his soulmate? Some people never did much with theirs, choosing to remain as friends. Some people got married as soon as possible. Others bided their time and waited until they were ready to handle the responsibility of someone’s heart.

She agreed to not kiss anyone else for the time being.

They watched Clueless on her TV, and he kept complaining that it was weird that a fifteen year old was in love with a college kid, or that the college kid actually reciprocated. Not to mention the whole step-sibling thing.

“I don’t know, college kids have a sort of je ne sais quoi. Think of Akiteru for example, he’s just like Paul Rudd in this movie- entirely delicious.”

“I might have to actually drown myself in the tears of my ancestors, they'd be ashamed of you, betraying me for my brother.”

“I’d never do such a thing, but if Akiteru wanted a taste test, who am I to deny-”

Tsukishima sat up and covered her mouth with his hand. He slowly shook his head from side to side. It was damning how riled up he could get with just one statement from her. Though, he supposes they match that way, knowing exactly which chord to strike in order to make the other entirely irate.

In third year, it was much more common for them to spend time together, still with an ambiance of annoyance but underneath all the banter, all the forced charm, all the pseudointellectual grown-up talk, they were just them.

There he was, jumping up for another block, shifting his feet from where he had been sitting and lunging upwards, fingers outstretched just barely going over the net. He landed, having successfully blocked Hinata’s spike. In response, Hinata groaned and pulled on his hair, Kageyama shrugged.

Yamaguchi clapped his hands, telling the juniors on the team why Tsukishima’s block was successful and how to replicate his technique.

“Or you know, just grow taller and not have to work on technique.” He laughed in response to Yamaguchi’s glare.

Tsukishima had grabbed a towel from Yachi and was drying the sweat from his hair. His shoulders were sore from the work out he and Kageyama had done the night before. He was aiming to see how much width he could put onto his shoulders before the school year was over. Kageyama was already three centimeters broader than him despite them starting at around the same shoulder width.

Once the gym had been cleaned, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were changing in the locker room. Yamaguchi fidgets with his ponytail hair tie.

“You need to get a haircut, your whole shaggy thing is a major deterrent for any sort of friendship we have going on.”

“Maybe if your hair was longer, she’d actually come to watch us practice. And you could finally put all those lateral raises and shoulder presses to good use. You know, for your aesthetic purposes in trying to get hotter for her.” Yamaguchi finished taking his shirt off and ran hands through his hair, turning around and trying to wave the strands in Tsukishima’s face.

Tsukishima grabbed the top of Yamaguchi’s head and shoved him away. “She can’t come watch us play because she’s busy with her team, my little manager extraordinaire.” He faked jazz hands and put his regular shirt back on, stuffing the volleyball uniform into his black duffel bag.

She had given him a keychain, of herself. Well, it was her photo in a holder that was decorated with dinosaurs and strawberries, there were shaker emblems in the hollow space of the rectangular cube, of stars and volleyballs. It was a visual atrocity, none of it working together cohesively, but he loved the keychain all the same.

It dangled from his duffel bag when he slung it over his shoulder, and Yamaguchi chuckled a little, rushing to put his shirt on so he could walk out of the gym with Tsukishima.

“Wait up!”

It was a shade of light orange fading into purple outside, and Kageyama, Hinata, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima were making their way down the street to the crossroads where they went their separate paths. She usually met up with Tsukishima there as well, despite his reluctance for her to walk around late at night.

Seeing her with a wad of tissue up her nose and a pack of ice on the side of her face was ultimately the worst way to put an end to the night. The other boys quickly caught on and bid their farewells, sensing an air of undisclosed intimacy.

Tsukishima sucked in a deep breath, setting his duffle bag down on the ground next to her and using his hand to hold the ice pack for her. He used his other hand to lift her chin up so he could see if there was still blood coming out from her nose.

He didn’t even have to say anything for her to start explaining, she kept trying to hold the ice pack herself, but he kept anxiously swatting her hand away so he could hold the pack himself.

“It was a stray ball gone entirely haywire. The first years we have are on crack cocaine I swear.” She winced a little when he applied some pressure from the ice pack to her temple. “Ouch, stop, let me do it instead.”

He let out a clicking sound, being gentler with the ice pack.

“It’s nice that you care, but please I need to get home.”

“Just a little bit longer.” Tsukishima pulled her down to the street curb, so they could sit down. “The best they could do for you was an ice pack and a wad of paper to stick up your nostril?”

“I know, I’m out here working my ass off for the volleyball hooligans and I don’t even get princess treatment when they pop me in the face with their balls.” She sets the ice pack next to her foot, kicking at the plastic a little.

He laughed, his shoulders shaking a little.

She pulled out the tissue, tucking the bloody end into the main body of the tissue and shoving it into her pocket. She covered her nose, knowing there was some dried blood on her upper lip, she turned her head around so he couldn’t see her.

“Hey, c’mon, I know what blood looks like,” He shakes her knee a little, teasing her. “I think I have a wipe in my bag,” Tsukishima pulled the bag into his lap, searching around. He hands her the disposable wipe and she rubs it under her nose.

“How do I look?” She turns back to him, giving him a smile.

“You look great. You always look great.”

She bumps into his shoulder with her own and he winces slightly.

She frowns a little, “You got hurt at practice?”

“Ah, let’s go with that.”

She figures that since he gave her something to clean her face off, she should give him something back.

“Want me to rub your shoulders a little?” She brought a hand to the shoulder closest to her, and started to rub her thumb in a circular motion on the back blade.

He swallows, his fingers twitching from a want to hold her hand that was on his back. She shifts so she’s behind him, sitting on her calves as her knees press against his back a little. Her thumbs are on his shoulder blades and her fingers wrap around the bulk of his shoulder to reach his collarbones. Her ministrations reduce the aching in his muscles but only intensify the buzz he gets when he’s around her.

“If you keep doing this I might fall in love with you.” It’s wistless but carries an appetite that itches to be satiated.

The sun had finally set, streaking the sky with strands of reds and yellows at the cusp of the edge of the earth that was visible to them. The sky directly overhead was deeply purple and dark navy blue. Some white splatters of stars dotted the universe.

“Who’s to say you aren’t already in love with me?” She wraps her arms around his neck, resting her chin on the top of his head.

He moves his head, and hers falls down a little, no longer able to use his head as a support for her chin, he presses a quick kiss to her jaw.

“Now that’s a great question from you, let’s keep those kinds of inquiries coming.”

She liked to pester him with questions well into college, especially as they sat side by side in their anthropology class.

“So how do I tell the difference between the 1400s and 1300s? Professor keeps saying we can clearly see the difference between a vase from the 1350s and a vase from the 1410s but honestly they both look like piles of crust to me.” She was tugging on his hand under the desk they were sitting at. He just kept taking his notes, transcribing what the T.A was talking about for an upcoming exam.

“Okay, Kei. I see how it is. Leaving your lovely girlfriend to struggle in the same class you begged her to take with you.”

He shushes her a little, grabbing her hand with his free one. “I’ll help you after class.”

He got a glance of the zeroes in black on his wrist.

He looks at her wrist, matching zeroes. He was glad that he bumped into her that day.

They were soulmates. It was plain to see, plain to feel, plain to understand.

The T.A closes a notebook and dismisses the class, he announces he’s going to his office to grab something and then he’ll be back to answer some questions.

Tsukishima sets his pen down and grabs her face with both hands, she raises an eyebrow at him and tries to lean back.

“This doesn’t feel very academic in nature, this is definitely not an answer to my question, so what is this?” She gesticulates her hands between the two of them.

“This is me kissing you.”

He rushed to close the distance between them. Their noses bumped into each other before he tilted his head a little bit. When he slid his tongue into her mouth, she whimpered a little and nudged his chest. But he stayed connected to her. Tsukishima could hear the classmates that hadn’t left yet making some barraging comments, he didn’t care.

He tried to pull her into him, lifting her slightly by the back of her knee and trying to bring it around his body with zeal. He licked her bottom lip before nipping at it. She went with it, resting a hand on his chest and leaning into the kiss slightly.

Tsukishima pushed the rolling desk away slightly, and used a hand to bring her chair closer to his. When she placed her other hand behind his neck and toyed with the strands of hair along the back of his head he kissed her with more pressure. He kept trying to coax her into his lap as he kept tugging on the back of her knee.

The T.A got back and dropped a stack of papers, seeing as Tsukishima had just given up on coaxing her and had entirely just pulled her into his lap of his own volition. She was so embarrassed when the teacher’s assistant had, in a voice barely below a scream, chastised them and said they’d need to write a paper on proper classroom conduct.

Tsukishima had zoomed through his essay, spending the rest of the hour in the office drawing shapes on her back with his fingers, lackadaisical with his motions. She had almost, just barely, snapped at him when he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He drew a heart on her back in a wide sweep motion, before changing his tactic and using just his finger tips to scratch her back lightly.

“You are not sorry.” She said with teeth clenched, pausing writing her essay.

“Yeah. I’m not. I just really wanted to kiss you.” To Tsukishima’s words, she just clicked her tongue at him.

“There’s nothing hot about anthropology so I don’t know what gave you the animalistic urge to kiss me like that.”

He pouted a little, then picked up the pen from her paper and twirled it between his fingers.

“While anthropology may not be hot, you definitely are.”

She groaned in response, trying to take her pen back. He just shook his head no and gave a traditional Tsukishima ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’. He took the paper from her as well, writing the rest of the outlined points rapidly so they could get out of the office and into their apartment.

“Remember when you kissed me in the middle of class, and then the T.A got so mad at us. I want more memories like that, and I suppose I’ll get them because now we’re legally stuck together.” Her hands were shaking a little, reading the paper in front of everyone.

Tsukishima was easily able to ignore everyone else, focusing on the way she had done her hair. He had heard the vows beforehand. She didn’t trust anyone else but him to be a proofreader for her little speech. She also wanted him to get out all the cringes so he didn’t tease her during the wedding because then her dad would’ve gotten mad at him.

They had gone over their vows together the night before, curled up on their couch, joking and laughing at what the other had written.

“You cannot say that you can’t wait to replicate our college graduation night over again, that’s foul.”

“We have a better car now.” He shrugged. She hit him with her stack of drafts repeatedly.

“And you need to add in how much you love me.”

“I’m marrying you, isn’t that clear enough for a statement of love?” Tsukishima groaned and threw his head back onto the couch.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it, mister. I need you on your hands and knees in gratitude. I need you wallowing in desperation for me. I need you to be obsessed.”

Tsukishima could do that. He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her over his lap so she was straddling his thighs. He let his hands rest on the small of her back, before sliding around to rub her thighs languorously. Tsukishima sighed in contentment when she slumped over him a little, tucking her head into the nook of his neck.

“There’s a lot I’m sorry for,” Tsukishima blinked a few times, she hadn’t included a bit like this when he read her draft. “And there’s a lot I wish that I could go back and redo. I’m sorry for you because I know that I’m stubborn, and I’m sorry that I made you wait until college so we could date, despite knowing we were soulmates in high school. You did a great job of sticking it out. And you stuck it out for me, the girl who tried to fight you in the middle of a gymnasium after you accidentally bumped into her.”

Tsukishima didn’t expect to get choked up. When he looked over to his family, Akiteru was sobbing uncontrollably as their mom rubbed Akiteru’s back. Tsukishima glanced over to his friends, and Yamaguchi was forcing a smile despite looking completely overwhelmed with tenderness.

“I’m gonna tease you now so don’t bite my head off when this reception is over okay? I stuck it out too for you, especially when you kept trying to kiss me all throughout high school, or when you would slide your hand over my thigh.”

Tsukishima blushed and he used his hands to cover his face with an incredulous noise erupting from his throat. He hoped that her parents would have selective hearing for that specific part of her vows.

“But, you chipped away at me. Slowly. With a sort of dedication that would impress even the builders of the Pyramids. I wish that everyone got to see that side of you, but I’m glad that I got to experience it first hand. The side of Tsukishima Kei where he knows what he wants and pursues any path to achieve it. My Kei, who when faced with obstacles, decides that the obstacles aren’t a problem for him and that he can keep going.”

He wipes away the tears prickling away at his eyes.

“So, here’s to the future. Here’s to our lives pressing onward. I say that we win some and that we lose some, and you say back to me that you deserve a reward for doing either. Winning or losing, you want a reward for the experience. From this experience, getting to know me, and then dating me, and then being engaged to me, I hope that now that we’re moving onward that I’m enough of a reward.”

He knows he isn’t supposed to interrupt her, but he does, “You’re the only reward I need.”

She turns the paper around. She’s laughing a little, ignoring the tears on her face. Tsukishima looks at where her finger is pointing to. And right below her line of hoping she’s enough of a reward, clear as day is a prediction she had written.

Cue Kei saying something cringey in response, 10 bucks it’s “You’re the only reward I need.”

Tsukishima clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes.

But it was true.

She was all he needed.

He remembers reading something about soulmates during high school. Or maybe it was about relationships in general, but that’s not the point. The article had said something along the lines of, when you date someone you’re competing with that person.

You compete to be worth something to that someone, to be worth the time they would be spending on themself instead.

Tsukishima thought that was all a load of bullshit.

Love isn’t something you compete for, or something you build up virtuous worth for. Love is natural and doesn’t require anything but patience and effort. He didn’t need to compete to be worth anything to her, he just had to be himself.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #soulmate au #lilly's red string of fate #fluff #haikyuu fluff #slow burn?#slow burn mostly #he just pines a lot #playful banter out the wazoo #playful banter

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karlie-what-you-want · 9 months

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i wanna know your take on this but i thought of this in the shower last night:

one of the main references to “joe” in taylors music is the “hes poor” joke. with paper rings, the rubies she gave up in maroon, the life she gave away in midnight rain, etc. but i think it relates back to her fame. fame = money and with her being the poster heterosexual good-girl for america, she makes sooo much money off of people seeing her that way. with the failed coming out during the lover era; if she were to have come out she would be giving away that perfect american dream life that is clearly important to her (in miss americana she has an entire segment about how she is obsessed with being good and not getting in trouble). which in turn means giving away her money and her fame because realistically so many fans would not be fans anymore if she came out. she talks a lot in her songs about how she was so willing to give it all up to be herself (to be with karlie) and to live her life freely. then the masters heist happened, causing her to lose money from her music because of something she can’t control. in my opinion, this caused her to have a reality check on what it would really be like if she came out. the loss of money and fame: what she has worked so hard to have in her life all because of something she can’t control (being gay). i think it all hit her what she would really be giving away if she came out. because of champagne problems and the constant marriage rejection plot in her music i think she got scared and backed out of coming out. then karlie moved on and truly started being with josh kushner, taylor got sad, on and on.

what is your take on this? does that even make sense? am i just gay and crazy?

There are some parts of this take that I really like! I have often pondered the masters heist, lover era, and the failed coming out. I think a lot of us have wondered the full reasons for why the loss of her mastered could have delayed a coming out for THIS long, and while any reason is valid, I think your take grasps the nuance in a way that I haven’t seen many others explain eloquently.

Perhaps at that time, she got a taste of what that kind of loss could be like and in turn lost her nerve. I’m sure there are other things that factored in as well, but I think you’re right, that it’s much easier to say you’re ready for something until it’s staring you in the face (til someone’s on their knees and asks you). So in addition to the numbers game that any big league celeb would be playing when coming out, Taylor might have also just thought “Wow, after the hell of losing my masters, I really don’t need the emotional toll of losing fans or having people say hurtful slurs at me.”

The one thing I have to question is the idea that Karlie would go from being Josh’s beard to marrying him for real. This doesn’t seem reasonable to me. I am of the belief that while Taylor and Karlie have clearly experienced hardships as a couple, they are still together and happy. That’s why Taylor keeps referencing Karlie in her art, and it’s how Karlie knows enough to keep hinting at Taylor’s projects before they’re announced or revealed.

I truly do not think that one could start off being contractually obligated to fake a relationship with someone and then fall in love with them for real, and I don’t imagine Karlie doing that out of spite either. Not to mention that Josh is actually married to a man named Mikey Hess 😅 If you have time for a quick google search (or better yet, tumblr search) on that couple, I highly recommend. It’s a fascinating little rabbit hole with a lot of verifiable evidence.

Thank you for the thoughtful message! This was a great read.

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olddirtybadfic · 2 years

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The Angsty Domestic Life of Team Rocket: WTFcats (part one of three)

And we're back in the dark. Or at least a passing shadow. This starts off with standard-issue angst, then veers into what-the-fuckery toward the second chapter.

Also, so many unexplained talking Meowth OCs. WHY.

Warnings: Pokémon/Human romantic relationship (this time with an OC talking Meowth); unexplained mpreg/male pregnancy; workplace violence; shaky grasp of the realities of pregnancy and childrearing; general angst; lack of medical and scientific knowledge; original characters; possible out-of-character moments for Jessie, James, and Meowth; odd ideas about romance

-O-o-O-o-O-

The Meowth kitten packed her things. She wanted to get as far away from that place as she could. Her parents got blasted into the troposphere almost every day, her younger brother cried almost nonstop, wanting his man-mother, and she was considered a freak of nature.

The Meowth kitten’s name was Methidy. She was an unusual kitten. Her parents were a male Meowth and a human male. They were testing out a drug for Team Rocket scientists. The drug could make humans produce Pokémon offspring. The experiment worked and she and her younger brother, Methoni, were the results of it.

She looked unusual for a Meowth kitten, too. Instead of having grey eyes and cream-colored fur like her father, she had green eyes and bluish violet hair like her mother.

No matter how much her parents, James and another talking Meowth, said that the blue fur was pretty, their teammate Jessie always said, “It’s still pretty freaky.”

Methidy knew her parents loved her. But she just couldn’t stay in that hellhole any longer.

-O-o-O-

The next day, James found a note on his dresser. When he read it, he passed out.

When he came to, Matalico, his boyfriend (another talking Meowth), and Meowth were sitting next to him, wiping his face with a wet rag.

“I read the note, James,” Matalico said.

“What did the note say?” Meowth asked.

James gave Meowth the note. It read:

“Dear Mom and Dad:

I’m leaving the house. I can’t stand to be here anymore. It’s too painful with Jessie calling me a freak. I’ll send you an address and phone number when I find a place to live.

Your daughter, Methidy. P.S. I love you both.”

“This is just plain sad. I hope we can find her,” Meowth said.

“Why are our children growing up to be like me? I don’t want them to have to go through all of what I did,” James said between sobs.

“They’re like you because you had them and raised them. It’s just hereditary. Besides, you managed. Maybe Methidy will, too,” Matalico said.

“At least we know she still loves us,” James said.

-O-o-O-

Later that day, Methoni said his first words.

“Run away,” Methoni said quietly.

“Matalico! Methoni’s talking!” James cried.

Matalico ran over to the two.

“Run away,” the kitten repeated slightly more loudly.

Then he ran in circles saying, “Run away!” over and over again.

When he finally stopped, James picked him up and cradled him, with tears in his eyes.

“Even Methoni wants to leave,” he sobbed.

Matalico kind of felt guilty for being so proud of Methoni’s first words. James put his whole heart into being a parent and what did he get? Two kittens who just seem to want to run away.

Methoni didn’t really want to run away. He had just heard that phrase so often, he memorized it.

He would stick around when things got really bad.

-O-o-O-

One day, Team Rocket got a call from Giovanni.

When Matalico got off the phone, he looked so serious, James was shocked.

“They don’t need me anymore. So….they’re going to kill me,” Matalico said.

James was so shocked, he couldn’t even cry.

“But, Matalico….We need you….” James whispered.

“But they don’t.”

“They can’t!”

“Yes, they can. I’m no longer useful to them, James,” Matalico said.

The cruelty was enough to kill James, but somehow, it didn’t.

The next day, Team Rocket thugs came and took Matalico. An hour later, they threw his snow-covered body at the door of the cabin as James opened the door.

James screamed and cried as if he was being tortured, which he basically was. He couldn’t see how he could go on without Matalico.

Then things took a turn for the worse.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: Go ahead, make your characters' names start with "Meth." You won't cringe half to death when you reread it twenty years later.

#old fic #team rocket james #team rocket meowth #team rocket jessie #fanfic #fanfiction #pokefic #pokemon fanfiction #dark fic #mpreg #interspecies love #tw death #tw violence #tw family issues #tw murder

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roseamary · 2 years

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Touch to aespa, featured by ViVi magazine!

The feature was titled “Touch to aespa” and was intended to introduce readers of ViVi magazine to the K-POP stars who have the responsibility of retaining their status as the first metaverse group. The staff of ViVi magazine personally contacted the girls in the hopes that they would permit them to make a unique feature with them adorning the main cover because of their constant successions of performing at global events and capturing the attention of many international viewers. In order to give you a peek into their universe, ViVi conducted an exclusive interview that you can use as a guide to fully grasp the vocabulary and embrace the unique preferences of each girl group member! The portraits that have been chosen for the official photos to appear on the magazine pages are also included in the list below. A fun time of getting to know aespa is coming up, so be prepared!

Dive into aespa: “A real-life goddess who embodies kindness, talent, and beauty,” was what they said about Karina.

She was born in Korea on April 11, 2000, and is a leader who takes great pride in her deity beauty. She also looks out for the members as a big sister.

Q. What is your personal style?

I like simple and a bit dressy style such as white t-shirts with jeans, but I try to add point to my outfit with something that has a little different pattern or design, or an accessory. I often shop by checking out brands that go along with my favorite taste and talking with stylists!

Q. What is your “must-have” HeavyRota (frequently used) fashion item or cosmetic?

A. Crop-tops! Whether short-sleeved or off-the-shoulder, I like short length tops and have many of them. As for cosmetics, it’s lipstick. I have 4 to 5 kinds in my bag. I like to collect and I used to have 4 to 5 pouches, but I recently cleaned them out and reduced the number to 3 pouches.

Q. What songs do you listen to depending on the situation?

A. When I want to cry, I listen to the soundtrack of the drama “25, 21.” If I need a pick-me-up, I listen to K-POP. I can’t leave out the ones that I have been listening for years such as songs of “Girls’ Generation” and “2NE1”

Q. What is your motto?

A. “Love yourself,” I value my feelings but if I don’t love myself, I can’t take care of other people either.

Q. What do you pay attention to in order to maintain your style?

A. I try to exercise habitually. Ideally, I should go to the gym three times a week, but if I am too busy to go, I work out at home.

Q. What Korean words do you use most often?

A. I use “감사합니다 (kamsahamnida)” which means “thank you,” The most. The Korean words that make me happy are “예쁘다 (yeppeuda)” (pretty) and “귀여워요 (gwiyoptta)” (cute). I am happy no matter how many times I hear it (laugh).

Q. What do you do when you cannot sleep?

A. I have always fallen asleep as soon as I hear the sound of a hair dryer. When I was a child, my father used to dry my hair, so maybe I feel safe. Now I fall asleep listening to ASMR videos.

Q. When do you get excited the most?

A. Right before I eat something delicious! I like meat and sashimi. I also like dinosaurs and sharks, my tension raises highly once I see them so I want to visit Universal Studio someday!

“She may seem cool on the outside, but she is a very loving sister!” by NINGNING

What is aespa to you?

KARINA, “aespa is my family. It is a place where I can go back to and they are always there for me. They know everything about me, so they are just as important to me as my real family.”

GISELLE, “What did the other members say? (Karina answered “family”) Good, I intended to say “family” too, but it would be sad if I was the only one who said that (laughs) I feel a strong family bond when I can share my feelings with them. When we are in the car on the way home after a hard day’s work, the members know how tired we are and how tired we are feeling. When we feel connected, even if we don’t say it out loud, we feel that we are the only ones who can understand each other.”

WINTER, “A presence that I can truly think “They are on my side!” They are the special members who are always there for me no matter what happens, and we overcome everything together, whether it is hardship or fun. I treasure all of them including the fans who have supported me. I want to be a reassuring ally of aespa, of each member, and every MY.”

NINGNING, “If even one person is missing, it is a harmonic world that can't be completed. Each one of us has a completely different color, and that is why when the four of us get together, a special harmony is born. It is what cannot be completed once one of us is missing. I perform with the confidence and self-awareness that I am an integral part of this group, and at the same time, I care about each member of the group.”

#ꕤ › with vivi magazine.#★ › october.

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lonelypond · 1 year

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""Closer, Closer," Says Love

Nishikino Maki & Umi Sonoda, Love Live, 1K, 1/1

Summary: Maki and Umi talk movies and Nico.

""Closer, Closer," Says Love"

Umi Sonoda’s brisk pace kept Nishikino Maki from dropping into a sleep deprived haze.

“Will your schedule still accommodate viewing Alphaville this Sunday?”

“Sure.” Then Maki hesitated, “Wait, I have to check the joint calendar.”

“Joint calendar?”

“Nico set up a joint calendar for us so everyone she knows in Theatre or RTVF can get headshots without her giving them my number.”

There was silence from Umi, but it was expectant silence.

“Nico liked the headshots I took of her a lot, so her new plan to take over both New York and LA is to have everyone at Northwestern have the” Maki altered her voice slightly, “number one headshot photographer in the universe” take theirs and land more jobs. More NU alums in jobs means more NU networking means Nico gets her EGOT faster.”

Umi blinked, humming. “Impressive strategizing.”

“We’re damn lucky Nico’s not an ancient daimyo demanding we conquer the Loop to grow her collection of theatres.”

“My sword awaits her summons.” Umi chuckled.

Maki paused, “Never say that around Nico. She might just take you seriously.”

“You say that seriously.”

“I mean it seriously. She gets this glint in her eye and all these plans come spilling out and they can start to sound very convincing. It’s too easy to get caught up. She never stops to breathe so you can’t just casually divert the conversation.” Maki smiled, just for a second, “I have tried.”

“She is a very ambitious woman.”

“Yep.”

“I respect that.”

“Me too.” Maki rubbed her chin, “but…”

“But?”

“Nevermind.”

“It sounds” Umi paused. “Serious.”

“I’m banning that word for the rest of … ever.” Maki groaned, “Nico’s like the weather. She has the same effect on everyone. I’m not special.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Not many people take her plans serio…” Umi coughed, “To rephrase, I have spoken to uninformed persons who believe Nico’s impulsiveness means she lacks gravitas, that’s she’s just hastily grasping for whatever the wind blows by.”

“That’s not true. Sure, Nico grabs what life gives her, but she puts in the work. It’s all part of the Nico Plan. Which is on public display. Like a museum exhibit. She wrote it all down. I don’t know when she ever rests.” Maki glared at Umi. “Do people really say that about her?”

Umi had both hands raised in a placating gesture, “I have a different opinion, as do you. And we both know Nico appreciates your support for her efforts at world domination.”

“You make me sound like a villain’s sidekick.”

“Are you more of an investor then?”

Maki shook her head, “She doesn’t take money.”

“Neither do you, I suspect.”

“Not completely accurate. Nico says everybody thinks too cheap is a scam so we decided, 1 hour per person at $100 an hour, but there’s a 50% friend of Nico discount. And all of them manage their own prints, which is most of the expense. And the bother. I have nothing to do with that part.” Maki grinned, “Also, Nico makes me lunch and snacks.”

“Sounds very well organized. Is it impacting your studies?”

“I was already frustrated with classes. And no, I’m being careful with the scheduling.” Maki’s pace slowed, “But sometimes, I…can’t get people out of my head.”

“What do you mean?”

“I get curious about them or rehearse conversations or…” Maki shrugged, “Sometimes, I get tired and talk too much.”

“So you would rather ignore your subjects?”

“No, casual conversations are fine. But with a few of them, there’s this fluttering of connection and it’s aggravating. It's always happened; it's always bothered me. It’s why I started wondering if demisexual was a better label for me.”

“Why is it aggravating?” Umi prompted. Maki didn’t often talk about feelings, but tonight, she seemed to need a friendly ear.

“Because…” Maki frowned, “I suppose it’s like a false clue? It seems to mean something, takes up as much time as a real clue, but then it just kind of blanks.”

“Maybe we should talk about that at the next meeting.” While nearly everyone believed Umi and Maki had met and continued to meet at the Classic Film Club, that was a cover story because neither of them wanted to discuss their involvement in the campus Asexual Alliance. Umi identified as both poly and aromantic and appreciated being able to vent with others who felt like amatonormativity was a treacherous snare pop culture left everywhere.

“Maybe. I’ve started to recognize the signs so it’s easier to deal with. I just shove it in the ‘I’ll be over this in three sleepless nights” corner of my mind.”

Umi laughed, “It still sounds tiring.”

“Only for another week or so. There’s only so many performance majors. Alphaville will be a nice break. Oh, Nico wants to watch with us. I swear she thinks more like a director than an actor. She’s been texting me Goddard facts and quotes every day. Today, she sent me a list of the films he shot on video as suggestions for our next movie night.”

“I didn’t know video was in use that long ago.”

“If it was the 70’s and you were Jean-Luc Goddard, it was.”

“How interesting.”

Maki had picked up her pace again. She was walking Umi home and then stopping by Nico’s dorm after for snacks and video games.

“She is.”

“Please tell her my pen is at her disposal should she wish to experiment on video or film.”

“Your pen being mightier than your sword?” Maki stretched her arms out.

Umi chuckled.

They’d reached Allison Hall, where Umi shared a triple with Kotori Minami and Honoka Kousaka. Umi stopped for a parting exchange. “Thank you for the company, Maki. Please tell Nico I look forward to including her perspective in our movie nights.”

“I’m not offering her your sword or pen though.” Maki scuffed a heel.

Umi nodded, “That is probably best done by me, face to face, with my instrument in hand.”

Maki kickscraped a small pebble at Umi, then nodded, “See you Sunday.”

“Get some sleep, my friend.”

Umi watched Maki wave and walk toward CRC. Whatever relationship Nico and Maki had, Maki definitely seemed to feel a magnetic pull toward the dainty dynamo’s location. Umi wished her luck navigating that tide. Meanwhile, Nico was certainly going to add a refreshing spin to their discussions. A Goddard quote came to Umi’s mind, “Away, away,” says hate. “Closer, closer,” says love.”

A/N: Howdy! Tempted to change the name of the series to something like Muse Makes Movies since really no Goncharov knowledge is necessary. Thanks for stopping by. I'm liking these conversations; I hope you are too.

#NicoMaki mentioned #Nishikino Maki #Sonoda Umi #kotohonoumi implied #college #Asexual spectrum #aromantic #demisxuality #movies #jean-luc goddard #Goncharov Files #But no Goncharov knowledge necessary #cheers #Go U Northwestern #NicoMaki #kotohonoumi

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kirain · 4 years

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I started playing rdr2 but stopped because like idk but I can't seem to get over the fact that all the women are prostitutes and they don't really have any important roles. Like what's Abigail do? Ooh she's a mother who's always mad? What do the other women do? Oooh they sleep with the gang. What's Sadie do? Oooh she becomes a badly written femme fetale who suddenly becomes a flawless killer. The women are just so badly represented.

I get the feeling you didn't play the game naturally or see any random encounters, because none of what you said is true. There's a lot to unpack here, so let's start with the "all the women are prostitutes" comment.

First of all, none of the women are prostitutes, a fact that deeply irritates Micah. During a coach robbery where he rides with Arthur and Bill, he even says, “Why the hell do we need a gaggle of girls who won’t even fuck you if you put a gun to their head? Is it too much to ask considering they get a piece of every damn dollar I bring in?” Poor baby. He even tries to proposition all of the women (Grimshaw included), but they all insult him and send him running with his tail between his legs. It’s hilarious and I love it. Arthur also responds to Micah with, “Everyone does their share. I don’t see you lifting a finger around camp.”

Now a bit about the girls:

Mary-Beth was a skilled pickpocket, but she ended up being caught by a group of her victims. She mentions this during a conversation with Arthur, where she points out how hard it was for women who came from nothing, and the inequality of it all. RDR2 actually regularly highlights how difficult frontier/outlaw life was for women back then, often pulling zero punches. While fleeing her pursuers, Mary-Beth luckily ran into Hosea, who helped her escape and welcomed her to the gang. You can see Dutch lusting after her a few times, because he's an old pervert, but she always shuns his advances. She was never a prostitute and she was actually underage when she joined.

Tilly was a child outlaw and a member of the Forman gang from the age of twelve. She ended up killing the leader's cousin because he [as is heavily implied] tried to rape her. She was around sixteen at the time and tried to return to her mother after the ordeal, but she unfortunately passed away while Tilly was running with the Formans. Out of options, she eventually joined the van der Linde gang after Dutch saved her from some unspecified trouble. You can find most of this out during one of my favourite side missions, where she gets kidnapped by Anthony Foreman in retaliation for killing his cousin. With Grimshaw’s help, you can rescue Tilly and put an end to it once and for all. She was never a prostitute and was also underage when taken in.

Susan Grimshaw was one of the original members of the gang and one of Dutch's first lovers. They parted amicably and both fell in love with other people (Dutch with Annabelle, and Susan with a doctor who sadly ended up dying), but she stayed with the gang because of their mutual respect for each other. She later became the arbiter of the camp and a kind of surrogate mother to Arthur, John, and the other girls. She was never a prostitute, but rather a rough-and-tumble outlaw.

Karen is a little more complicated. Overall, she was a scam artist (Hosea even called her an “actress”) who sometimes lured men into brothels, then stole from them or picked their brains for leads. That doesn't necessarily mean she was a prostitute; however, it just means she used sex as a manipulation tactic. Out of all the women in the group, she was the freest and most unconventional. She also stood on guard duty and participated in heists. The only man she ever slept with in game was Sean, and his death absolutely devastated her. If you talk to her or observe her interactions, you also discover she’s a raging alcoholic suffering from some very deep-seated issues. She likely did have to do things she wasn’t proud of in order to survive, but in my opinion that makes her one of the most realistic members of the group. She was never described as a prostitute.

Molly was an aristocrat who left her family to be with Dutch. His abusive treatment eventually led her to suffer an identity crisis, where she ended up hysterical and heartbroken. Her story is sad, but she was never a prostitute. If anything, Molly is the best example we have that Dutch views people as items, not human beings.

Abigail is the only prostitute in the game, but by the events of RDR2 she's an ex-prostitute. To say she's nothing more than "a mother who's always mad", I feel, does her character a great disservice. First of all, she left that profession behind to raise her son, to give him a decent chance in life. Unlike John, she stepped up immediately to become a responsible adult. I don't think people realise how impressive that is because, one, she could've easily abandoned Jack at the roadside (which was common back then), two, she could've induced an abortion, and three, she was quite young when she had him; around nineteen years old.

You say the women are "poorly represented", but they're stronger, smarter, and more mature than most of the men. A few of them even become self-sufficient in the turn of the century, something dear old Dutch couldn't even do/accept. Abigail in particular helps Sadie mourn her husband and the two grow very close. Their interactions are both grounded and heartwarming, with Abigail telling Sadie she’ll suffer the loss of her husband, but that it’ll get better if she keeps on living. She takes care of her, and Sadie later returns that kindness. These women are so full of quirks and humour and personality, I don’t know how you missed it.

As for Sadie ... where do I even begin? Badly written? Femme fatale? Flawless killer? Sadie is one of the best written characters. She's not flawless, she's exceptionally flawed, temperamental, and traumatised. It's never expressly stated, but it's implied at several points throughout the game that she was repeatedly assaulted while the O'Driscolls kept her captive. At first, she's petrified and miserable, to the point that all she does is cry and express suicidal ideation. Then, she gets angry. Very angry. Having nothing left to live for, her home and husband torn from her grasp, she throws herself headfirst into danger, which almost gets her killed on a number of occasions.

She's not a "flawless killer", she's a messy killer. She's not an expert death-dealer, and that's made evident from the start -- but she was a hunter who shared the workload with her husband, so it's not as if her skills just magically appeared. You do see how much it weighs on her, however, near the end of chapter six. If you help her kill the rest of the O'Driscolls, she laments what she's become because she thinks her husband would be horrified. She’s extremely complex and struggles between mourning and moving on.

I also can't help but laugh at the "femme fatale" accusation, because Sadie actually defeminises herself, which is understandable considering the hell she’s suffered. She even wears men's clothing, which wasn't illegal [anymore] back then, but it was openly frowned upon. Femme fatales use their beauty and sexuality to their advantage, ensnaring men with their feminine wiles. Sadie never does that and fights side-by-side with the boys. Interestingly enough, that's partially why Calamity Jane, an actual historical figure, garnered so much attention, because of how she behaved/dressed. It’s pretty clear to me that Rockstar might’ve used her as inspiration for Sadie. This was a real woman who lived from 1852 to 1903.

In addition, Sadie plays one of the most important roles, yet she does so without falling into the category of a Mary-Sue. She saves the gang and moves them to a new location when the Pinkertons attack Shady Belle. She hatches the plan that frees John from prison. She helps Arthur rescue Abigail after she gets kidnapped. She tracks down Micah and puts an end to his reign of terror. But most of what she does she accomplishes with a partner--Arthur or John--both of whom she respects immensely. No one, not even Arthur, does everything alone, and when they do there’s usually negative consequences. It's the camaraderie and shared experiences that make these characters successful, and aside from Charles and Hosea, I’d even argue that the women are more well-rounded and fleshed out than the men.

I gather from for comments that you didn't finish the game, so I hate to spoil it, but I kind of have to if you walked away with this mindset. The women of RDR2 are a force to be reckoned with.

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saintlike78 · 3 years

Note

Hey.

First I wanted to say that i really like you work and that i often think about commenting my thoughts on it but since english is not my native language i feel very insecure about that.

I don’t even know if you take request for that but maybe you could write an poly marauders x reader, Where the reader feels really bad about their bad grades in Arithmacy ( i feel like thats the closest to math right) and feels so dumb and worthless after almost failing an examen and the marauders make her feel better and stuff.

Sorry for bad spelling or if it doesn’t make sense at all

I wish you a wonderful weekend!

Doing your best [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, you’re so sweet! You shouldn’t feel insecure, your English is great! And please don’t ever feel insecure about commenting or reaching out, it means so much to me and I couldn’t care less if you make mistakes, I do too.

Pairings: Poly Marauders x fem! reader

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship, Reader being bad at Arithmancy, wizarding grades, the grade ‘p’ stands for poorly, bad test results, the implication of punishment, reader being hard on themselves, crying.

_____________________________________________________________

Looking down at the paper placed on the desk in front of you tears welled up in your eyes. The ‘P’ written in bold red not concealing how absolutely horrible you were performing in arithmancy. You stared at the paper for a few extra seconds before scrambling to get it off of your desk and tucked it away into the depths of your bag, hopefully also letting it leave the forefront of your mind. Unluckily for you, James was seated next to you and didn’t miss your ‘poor’ grade, giving you a disappointed look and an almost silent ‘tsk’.

He, alongside your two other boyfriends, probably thought it was because of you slacking off, but it was almost the opposite. You had studied so hard for that test and the subject of Arithmancy, but no matter what you did or how long you studied for it never sank in properly, leaving you frustrated at your lack of understanding. Numbers had never been your strong suit and it clearly showed, you were mentally slapping yourself, beating yourself up.

‘How could I have been so stupid!? Getting a ‘poorly’… what are they going to do with me?’

Your thoughts were all jumbled, which is why you hadn’t noticed the class being dismissed and James packing away his own things and then packing yours as well, taking in the distracted look on your face. He grabbed your bag and slung it over his shoulder, on top of his own, before he reached a hand out for you to take. “Come on, baby… let’s go.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts, looking dumbfoundedly at James’ hand causing James to chuckle a little, but in the end placing your hand in his, letting him lead you towards their dorm.

Arriving at their dorm, James opened the door letting you enter before him and shutting the door softly after himself.

“Hi! How was the Arithmancy test?” Remus asked, getting up from the bed to greet you with a kiss.

“Well, I think our little darling has been slacking off… the grade she received was less than stellar,” James said disappointedly crossing his arms before he walked over to his bed, dumping both his and your bag on it.

Sirius’s head perked up, no longer paying attention to the book in front of him. “Oh? And what grade was that puppy?”

You fiddled with your fingers, not wanting to meet their eyes, feeling stupid and small under their intense gaze.

“Uhm…” you didn’t want to say it out loud, knowing how much they pestered you to get good grades and keep up with your schoolwork… it being a part of your rules.

Though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it since James had seen the grade in plain view.

“Come on, bun, what was it?” Remus pressed, growing impatient knowing by James’ disappointed face that it was bad.

“I-I… uhm… got a ‘p’,” you finally let out, voice small almost a whisper.

You finally looked up at them and your heart dropped taking in the way Remus’ face fell in disappointment.

“That wasn’t very good, was it bunny?” Remus looked down upon you, a stern look replacing his disappointed one.

You just shook your head, unable to answer without breaking down in tears. Your fiddling fingers turning to knuckle cracking, your eyes glassy with impending tears.

“Answer him,” Sirius said sternly, also abandoning the bed and walking to stand in front of you as well.

“n-n-no,” you replied shakily, all your energy being used to keep the tears at bay.

Remus shook his head, “well, bun, it’s very disappointing… I hadn’t even realized you were slacking off, but you know what happens when you do.” He was hinting towards a punishment, those reserved for when you were being a brat or slacked off on purpose, but now it didn’t feel like you deserved one.

The threat of a punishment finally causing the tears to fall, your knees wobbling weakly and quickly giving out on you causing you to fall to the floor as sobs left your mouth. Your face was buried in your hands as tears leaked out of your eyes.

“I-I’m so-sor-ry, I di-dn’t mean to… I t-tried so ha-rd,” you sobbed out, voice breaking and hiccups interrupting your sentence.

The three boy’s stern faces fell into those of soft ones, their tough demeanor leaving them as they watched you break down before them. They looked between each other; sympathy was written in each of their features.

James was the first to kneel down at your level, using his right hand to pry your face out of your hands forcing you to look at his face. His heart dropping at your tear-stained face, feeling your pain.

“It’s okay, darling… c’mere,” James opened his arms for you; you immediately fell forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook of his neck, letting out some more tears and sobs.

His arms were wrapped tightly around you to comfort you until you were ready to talk about it.

Remus and Sirius shared a look, and both kneeled as well, engulfing both you and James in a massive hug. You let out a breath of contentment, your tears ceasing and your breath evening out.

“Can you explain to us what happened?” Remus asked carefully, not wanting to push you in your fragile state.

They all leaned back so you could look at their faces when speaking to them. When your face was out of hiding Sirius took your face in his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears, causing you to lean into his touch, his heart swelled, and he smiled softly.

“I have been studying for that test for weeks, I just can’t seem to grasp the subject… it’s so frustrating and I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I just feel so stupid,” you rambled, airing out your thoughts and frustrations.

“You’re not stupid, puppy… you’re so smart, but you can’t be good at everything,” Sirius said, still holding your face and kissing you softly.

“Bunny, you could have asked for help… I’ll gladly help you study for the next test; I’ll make sure you get a good grade,” Remus offered.

Your face left the warm touch of Sirius’ hands to tackle Remus in a giant hug, kissing him all over his face. “Thank you, Remmy!” you squealed.

The three boys chuckled at your excitement for something as dull as studying for arithmancy.

“I love you all,” you sighed.

“We love you too, darling, even if you are bad at arithmancy,” James said with a small smirk earning him a smack on his arm.

James dramatically grabbed his arm, “oi! Watch it, I play quidditch with that arm.”

Tags: @teenwolfbitches28, @dracosafety

#poly marauders #marauders fluff #marauders x you #marauders x reader #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #marauders angst

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violettelueur · 4 years

Text

— GETO SUGURU || RELY ON ME

↳ featuring : geto suguru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of murder, grammar issues and spoilers for non-manga readers

↳ spoiler warnings : chapter 65-79 spoilers

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 19 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.8k

↳ request : Hello, I love your Cafe! I was wondering if I could possibly request headcanons or a scenario about a female jujutsu sorcerer who can sense emotions and starts hanging out with Geto a lot right after everything with Riko happened to try to help him mentally and maybe they start dating after they get closer?

↳ barista’s notes : once again, barista violettelueur is back again with another imagine and today it is staring geto suguru ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ and the next one pending will be for KUGISAKI NOBARA ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ right now, it is 2am but i had a nap earlier, so i can’t get back to sleep even though my online classes start at 9:10....hahahaha ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too clingy with me?”

Slyly shifting your eyes to the side, you began to gape at the tall sorcerer right beside you, as he continued to move forward to wherever he was going - to be honest, he didn’t even know himself.

“And do you have a problem with that? I don’t see you pushing me away,” you teasingly commented as you let out a little giggle trying to lighten up the sombre atmosphere that was clouding around you and Geto at this current moment in time.

Unbeknownst to your classmate, you could feel the suffocating pressure that he was carrying in his heart, suffocating to the point where you were nearly choking onto the curse energy that you were sensing. However, you couldn’t blame him at all for feeling this way all.

Ever since the assassination of the Star Plasma Vessel, Geto couldn’t help but feel a sense of heavy guilt surrounding him after the killing of Amanai Riko and with the situation of Gojo becoming stronger than he had anticipated, Geto started to feel more isolated than ever.

Well, he would've if it wasn’t for your constant presence.

To be completely honest, Geto was perplexed on what type of sorcerer you were. You never really revealed what your cursed technique was to anyone but knew you were extremely skilled with cursed weapons and tools, to the point where you were able to embed your curse energy and create your own through craftsmanship as a talented armourer. However, he was still intrigued by what you were naturally skilled at.

“Y/N, what type of sorcerer are you?” Geto asked in a curious tone leading you to halt for a quick second, as you began to think about what you could answer to the sorcerer who was now directly in front of you.

How could you answer?

Actually, were you even allowed to answer?

Even though it seemed useless to some sorcerers, your curse technique was the ability to sense the emotions of humans, curses and sorcerers and though it seemed to be simple, your technique was an extremely rare ability due to your whole existence used to help reduce the number of curses being formed - you were fundamentally the possible sole solution of the extinction of curses, especially ones that could develop into special grade curses.

However, you weren’t allowed to inform Geto that let alone anyone else that you known of. You were informed by Yaga sensei as well as the higher-ups to not tell anyone about it.

“I’m just a weapons specialist Suguru, I thought you already knew that,” you answered with a smile on your face, as you walked closer to catch up with him before linking your arm with his to keep him close to you leading to the intense curse energy around you to lighten its hold on you slighty causing a small but noticeable smile to form on your face.

“I’m not as strong as you, but I know how to deal with people, so rely on me a bit more aye?” you rhetorically asked as you began to drag Geto to wherever you wanted, needing to make sure he was going to be alright and nothing was going to happen to him later on.

Surprised, Geto couldn’t help but stare at the back of your head with widened eyes as he continued to let you take him to where you wanted to take him. Geto didn’t know why but he couldn’t help but draw a tiny smile on his face as he also let out a light laugh.

“Yeah, I rely on you a bit more often Y/N”

ꕥ

“Then we should just kill all non-shamans”

Widening your eyes in complete horror, you suddenly became frozen as you stood beside the doorway that would lead you to the very conversation that Geto and special-grade sorcerer Tsukumo Yuki were having right now.

Leaning your body against the wall, you tried to balance yourself as the feeling in your legs slowly began to give away with the intentions of not wanting to make any noise of revealing that you were eavesdropping the horrific statement your friend had suddenly made.

‘Kill all non-shamans, is he crazy?’

“Geto-kun, that’s a decent plan,” Yuki mentioned causing you to turn your head to the side of the entrance with pure shock as her comment was not helping with the situation at all, as well as the intense amount of antagonistic curse energy that was practically choking you at this point leading to the feeling of your throat agonisingly closing up due to the extreme field of negative emotions that was being manifested between the two strong sorcerers.

“However, there is no need for that when we have L/N around,” Yuki suddenly mentioned, causing Geto to look at her with confusion to which lead her to continue with her explanation by saying, “well her curse technique is extremely powerful since she can sense emotions and that lead to the reduction of curses being formed, haven’t you notice the lack of mission you been sent on recently?”.

Thinking about her question, Geto couldn’t help but suddenly realise that Yuki was correct at the fact that he had been on little to no missions recently. Was it because of you? Curse technique that can sense emotions? Was that why you have been by his side for quite some time?

“Even though Gojo is the reason why there is a balance in the world, L/N is the reason why there is peace you know, but that’s a story for another time,” Yuki huffed as she suddenly got up from the seat before placing on her leather jacket. “I gotta thank her though, she is the reason why I get to go aboard so many times, maybe I should take her to Paris as a ‘thank you’ gift?” Yuki questioned herself while pointing her chin with her index finger to emphasise her thoughts before coming to the sudden realisation of something.

“You never told me your answer to my question,” Yuki mentioned with a small pout, leading to Geto looking at the woman with a bewildered expression on his face leading to her to then ask, “what kind of woman is your type?”.

Looking at the special grade sorcerer with a blank expression, he couldn’t suddenly think about the comment you had said to him earlier.

“I’m not as strong as you, but I know how to deal with people, so rely on me a bit more aye?”

‘What a liar,’ Geto thought as he smiled at the small but fond memory, ‘you are strong Y/N’

“My type of woman is someone that I know I can rely on”

ꕥ

Feeling a sense of coldness upon his cheek, Geto couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to see you pressing a cold water bottle to his face as you began to sip on the can of cold coffee that you have brought from one of the vending machines that were nearest to the track field where you and Geto were training at.

“Thanks,” Geto said with gratitude as he took the bottle from your grasp before taking a quick gulp of the refreshing liquid that was smoothing his body from the disgusting heat and sweat that he had produced from fighting with you.

Geto couldn’t lie to himself. He had completely forgotten how masterful you were with your weapons as well as how physically strong you were when not using your curse energy. You were really the ideal sorcerer in some ways even when your curse technique had nothing to do with exorcising curses at all. Geto really admired you for that.

“Are you going to continue staring?” you casually asked, as you tilted your head slightly to take a quick peek at him before cheekily commenting “am I that beautiful~” leading you to laugh at your own comment to which Geto followed suit.

“You’re beginning to act like Satoru,” Geto mentioned, leading you to express a concerned look as you didn’t want to act like your annoying classmate, leading Geto to laugh once again at your grimace expression causing you to turn to him with a soften look.

From what you could sense right now, the curse energy that was swimming around you and Geto was tranquil to the point where it was peaceful. From what you could remember from the beginning, this situation was the complete opposite since the incident and that put nothing but a slight warmth within your heart, the curse energy back then was suffocating which was contrasting to this feeling that could nearly put you to sleep. Geto has made so much progress during the few months that had passed but what surprised you to most was how fast he had made progress, even after the little situation with Yuki.

‘She really had to snake out my technique huh?’

“Are you going to continue staring at me? Am I that handsome~” Geto then teasing asked, leading you to snap out of your thoughts before realising that he was mocking you slightly from your earlier comment. However, before you could either counter him with your annoyance, you suddenly notice the sorcerer lean forward towards you causing you to slightly step back before feeling a light touch on your forehead.

Pulling away, Geto managed to get a glimpse of your surprised expression with a hint of pink hues on your face before letting out a cheeky giggle. “Maybe you’re not like Satoru, he’s not the shy type anyway,” Geto playfully mentioned before grabbing your hand that wasn’t holding the coffee as he began to drag you away from the track field where you both were training at before.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Geto softly said with a hint of appreciation as he continued with, “rely on me also okay?”

Feeling shy, you looked down to your connecting hands before tightening the hold as the curse energy that surrounded you both was now feeling more gentle and tender than it had ever been before. However, you still had some questions in mind.

“HEY! You can’t just kiss my forehead and grab my hand like I ain’t going to ask questions Suguru?” you exclaimed, as you began to frantically shake your interlocking hands in a slight panic causing Geto to look at you with surprised expression before laughing loudly at your sudden outburst.

Even though Geto knew you since the beginning of his enrolment at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, he had never seemed you once looked so flustered like you did right now. You were always the calm one between him, Gojo and Ieiri, so this was a whole new sight to him.

Tightening the grip of your hand, you crazy shaking came to a slight pause as Geto began to slowly but tenderly pull your hand towards him, only to then land a light kiss on the back of it leading to the once pink hues that were painting on your cheek to become rose red.

“Rely on me to make you blush, okay girlfriend~?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk geto suguru #jjk geto #geto suguru imagines #geto suguru imagine #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader

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frenchpuppycormier · 3 years

Note

HI ZOË!!! angst #16 for that sentence starter post if you're still up for some writing. i love getting my feelings hurt 🤡

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Then why are there bruises all over your face?"

—

Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body.

She waves at every animal she sees on her daily walks and patrols at night. She gives and gives to people without expecting anything in return. When someone is having a bad day or just really needs to talk, she listens, even criminals. Most of them aren't any different than the average person, they simply were dealt the wrong hand. She's extremely loyal and doesn't take anything personally. One time, Kara saved a fly that was trapped in a spider's web.

So yeah, Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Which is why today is such an anomaly.

She's in the kitchen still dressed in her navy chinos and baby pink button up with palm trees from when she came home from work. Andrea made her rewrite an article thrice, Jeremy from accounting had broken the copier machine and politely asked for her help in fixing it, she stopped a bank robbery a few blocks down from CatCo when she realized the police wouldn't get there in time, and to top it all off she unwillingly skipped lunch after someone stole her sandwich from the staff fridge.

To say she was exhausted and starving was an understatement. Changing into her pajamas meant she had to walk all the way to the bedroom and Kara was too lazy, even for superspeed.

As she stirs her homemade tomato sauce she taps her phone screen and checks the time. 6:35 pm. Frowning, Kara doesn't see any missed messages or calls from Lena letting her know she's going to be late.

She shrugs to herself and thinks Lena must've gotten caught up in her lab and lost track of time. It happens more often than not, and Kara doesn't think it'll ever change, much to her chagrin. It's bad enough Lena forgets to eat lunch most days, but to continuously forget her phone and watch in her office? Kara knows her wife's a workaholic, but she wasn't aware until now, the fourth night this week, that it was getting this bad.

Kara strains the pasta and cuts the garlic bread while periodically stirring the sauce and checking her phone. She decides to finally turn on some music when the silence of the penthouse becomes too stifling and daunting.

She's in the middle of dancing to ABBA and plating the food when she hears a familiar heartbeat walking down the hall. Kara tries not to listen to it too often—she doesn't want Lena to feel like her privacy has been invaded—but sometimes she can't help it. Her wife's heartbeat is one of the most soothing sounds she's ever heard, and ever since she heard it for the first time, she's just been naturally drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Kara smiles as she hears it get closer until Lena's opening the door and walking through. "Hey, babe! I'm in the kitchen!" she yells, her energetic voice reverberating throughout the house.

There's no verbal response like there usually is, which is the first warning sign. The second is when Lena walks by—she has to in order to go to their room—it's with quick steps and careful avoidance. But Kara's been able to read her like a book since they've known each other, and she knows something's amiss by the way Lena doesn't even greet her with a kiss. She always does.

"Lena?"

Her wife stops frozen in her tracks, head angled down, hair covering her face like a curtain. Lena's heart ticks up a beat, leaving Kara wildly concerned.

"Lena?" she steps around the island and stands in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbles.

Kara tilts her head to make eye contact, but Lena moves her head so she can't. "Then why won't you let me look at you?"

"It's nothing, I-I'm fine."

"And why does that not convince me?" Kara sighs. Lena doesn't move a muscle and she keeps quiet. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She still shows no signs of moving. It's like she's decided her next career move is becoming one of those marble sculptures at the museum people love to gawk at.

"Lena...you're scaring me." She tentatively reaches out and grasps Lena's fingers, tremendously thankful when she doesn't pull away. If there's one thing her wife is bad at, it's letting people in. But she also knows when she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed that holding her hand relaxes and grounds her. "Please..."

Finally, after standing there in an awkward and probably painful way with the way Lena's neck is positioned, she slowly looks up. Kara audibly gasps when she sees her, and what she sees ignites a fire in her chest and a fury in her eyes. "If you're not hurt, then why are there bruises all over your face?"

"Kara.."

"Lena," she breathes and lifts her hands to gently cup her face, tears pooling in her eyes. Her breathing is significantly more ragged than before, and she mentally takes note of why that is. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," she repeats.

Kara frowns and backs away, crossing her arms. "Who did this to you?"

"Please, Kara. I don't want to make a big deal—"

"Who?" her voice is lower and angrier, sending chills down Lena's back. She grits her teeth, "Lena, tell me who did this to you now, so I can kill them."

"Kara, this isn't you," she reaches forward to calm her down, but Kara starts pacing.

"The hell it isn't!" Kara exclaims, fists clenching at her sides. "My wife was beaten for all I know, and she's acting like it's just another day at the office!" she gestures at Lena, exasperatedly. "How would you expect me to act?"

Lena flinches at her tone.

Kara notices, because she always notices when Lena's in distress, and she deflates. "Lena, you're the love of my life, my person, and when you're hurt I can't help how I act. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm overreacting or if I'm yelling, but it's you." She walks back into her space and places her hands over Lena's face, thumbs lightly grazing her cheekbones, careful not to bump her wounds. "It's you," she whispers.

Lena swallows thickly, and when she speaks her voice is soft and afraid. "It was an accident."

"Did someone do this to you?" Kara's jaw clenches as she lets go. She doesn't stray far though, crossing her arms in front of her chest to try and calm down.

"Kara, no," Lena sighs, tears pooling in her eyes. "I...I did it to myself."

"What?" Kara's arms drop to her sides. "What are you talking about?"

"I was in a board meeting," she clears her throat. "Um...I was presenting a new prototype for...for," Lena shakes her head and frowns tensely. She rubs her eyes with tight fists and with a shaky breath, she cries, "Kara, I—I can't remember!"

Kara steps forward and grasps her hands. "Hey, it's okay. Take your time." She rubs soothing circles over her knuckles with her thumbs.

Lena takes a deep breath and tries again. "I was in a board meeting, and I vaguely recall getting a terrible migraine. Everything after that is fuzzy," she sniffles and takes her hands back to wipe her eyes. "Jess said I fell and hit my head on the table on the way down."

Kara inhales shakily, "What?"

"I had a seizure, I guess," she says it with a slight lilt at the end like it's a question she doesn't want answered. "Uh, it lasted about five minutes until the paramedics arrived. They said I was lucky I wasn't doing something else, like driving. It could've been a lot worse."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone call me?," Kara looks at her with pleading but sorrowful eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"We promised each other, remember?" squeezes her hands. "For better or worse," she says with all the conviction she has. Kara kisses her knuckles and asks, "What did the doctors say?"

Lena sniffles and bows her head. "They ran all these tests on me, but couldn't find anything serious as to why I had a seizure. It could be any number of things, but they can't really do anything for me until I have another one," she looks up at her wife, lips wobbling.

"Kara, I'm scared," she whispers. "This is—" her words catch in her throat, and it's hard for her to breathe. "This is—my mom," she cries hysterically, covering her mouth with her hands, "This is how my mom died, she—she had a seizure while she was in the lake and she drowned. I can't—I can't believe this is—this is happening," she hiccups into another sob.

"Shhh," Kara envelops her in a hug and rubs soothing hands along her back. Lena bawls uncontrollably into her neck, hands gripped tightly to the back of Kara's shirt. "I'm so sorry, Lena," she kisses her on the head and murmurs into her hair, "We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

"What if I have what she had?" Lena questions, voice muffled and watery. "Kara...I don't wanna die," her mind begins to fill with thousands of different scenarios and she spirals into a panic, her whole body shaking, "I don't wanna die, Kara!"

"Honey, no," Kara hugs her tighter, as much as she can without harming her, then pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. She pointedly looks into her eyes when she says, "You're not dying. Okay? Not today, not anytime soon, alright?" Lena's face is red and splotchy. She tries to reign in control of her emotions, and she exhales a shaky breath while managing to give a slight nod. "Good. We'll figure out what's wrong with you, and if we can't do that here, then...we'll go to Argo. Their advances in science are way ahead of Earth's, and if that's not enough then I'll personally travel to other earths or other planets until I find a solution. You're not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it."

"Promise?"

Kara palms the underside of her jaw and rests their foreheads together, Lena's puffs of breath hitting her lips. "I promise," she presses their lips together in a chaste kiss and mumbles, "I love you." Kara kisses her again, "More than anything."

"I love you, too," Lena replies and buries her face in Kara's chest, her arms wrapped around her waist tight and what would be restricting if not for Kara’s invulnerable body. A calming minute passes for them in the aftermath of Lena's breakdown, when Lena quietly asks, "Is something burning?"

Lena feels her wife stiffen in her arms. "Shit!"

She pulls back and raises her eyebrows curiously, an amused glint in her eyes as she asks, "Did you just swear?"

Kara extracts herself from Lena's hold and stutters, "N-no, I said sh-sheet," she fumbles over to the stove and turns off the burner. Kara leans over the pot and frowns at the wreckage.

Lena chuckles with such fondness it's almost like their previous conversation has been forgotten. Kara beams at the sound, one of the reasons she fell in love with Lena in the first place; that girl can make laughter sound like music. Even her out-of-control snort laughs are adorable. At least to Kara's ears.

"There's no point in denying it, love, I heard you loud and clear," Lena smirks and joins her in the kitchen, poking her in the side. Kara squeals and feigns hurting by falling to the floor dramatically.

Lena playfully rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. "Baby, get up, the floor is a mess." Kara easily obeys and jumps to her feet with barely any help from Lena. "I married a weirdo," she shakes her head.

"Do you regret it?"

"Never," Lena states firmly. "You're my weirdo, forever."

"I like the sound of that," Kara blushes. Even after being married for five years, and knowing each other even longer, Lena still possesses the ability to fluster Kara on a daily basis.

"C'mon, let's order Chinese."

"You're speaking my language!" Kara kisses Lena on the nose and watches with pure affection as it scrunches. She grabs the takeout menu from the junk drawer before twining her fingers through Lena's and snuggling with her on the couch.

No matter her diagnosis, not matter the outcome, Lena will be more than okay with Kara by her side.

#half of this was written with an edible in my system #so i apologize if it doesn't make sense #lasdkjfldskjf #prompt ask #supercorp #supercorp fic #a lot of angst #but also PURE FLUFF

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starlessea · 3 years

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Here Comes the Sun: XII. Highway To Hell (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 7169

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence.

You held a hand up over your shoulder and crouched down near the door, signalling for Carol to do the same behind you. Your gun was pressed snug between your palms, and your knife hung from your belt in case you needed it. Though, from the looks of the place it seemed pretty secure - if the lock you'd just busted open was anything to go by. The two of you were scavenging and had spotted a small general store, deciding to check it out before heading back to the cabin. The group hadn't eaten anything substantial in days, save for the things Daryl had been hunting. Even then, the harsh winter months made it harder for him to pick up tracks when most animals had better shelter than you all did.

It had been a number of weeks since the farm was overrun, but it almost felt like yesterday. The temperature had dropped to freezing seemingly overnight, making your fortunes that much more cruel. Even now, your breath formed clouds of smoke before your eyes, and the cold felt like it had infiltrated your bones at some point and never left. The tips of your fingers stung as they glowed red, exposed through your fingerless gloves, and you were certain that your nose matched, too. Carol's did, that's for sure.

You gave her a quick nod before kicking in the door harshly with your boot, raising your gun as you entered. The inside was bigger than you were expecting, and it took you a few minutes to clear each aisle for walkers. As you did, you noticed how most supplies were missing from the shelves, having been taken before the place was locked up. Still, Glenn had always drilled into you the first rule of scavenging: 'there's nothing good left in this world that isn't hidden.'

Sending a nod to Carol, you put your gun away in your holster before reminding her to stay alert. The two of you split up as she made her way towards the canned goods sections, hoping to find something there. Ever since you'd been on the road, you and Carol had gotten quite a bit closer. At first, she seemed sceptical of Rick and the whole situation you were forced into, as you all did. Though, after time she seemed to realise that he was the group's best shot. Most days, the two of you made dinner with anything you could find, often supplementing the things you were missing with whatever Daryl had managed to bring home from his hunt. Other times, you went scavenging together, as you did today.

At first, Rick absolutely refused to let anyone split up, and you had to abide by his rule. One time he'd caught you mocking his 'this isn't a democracy' speech to Beth behind his back and you'd had to forfeit your portion of squirrel to the greater good that evening. Daryl sneaked you some of his afterwards, however. Though, Rick quickly began to realise that there was no other choice. Before long, you'd gotten good with a gun; taking down walkers each day had that effect. Soon, you were one of the frontrunners whenever you had a house to clear - often fighting alongside him, Glenn and Daryl.

Now, he was comfortable with you leading a few runs of your own and taking Carol along with you. Glenn and Maggie often went together, too, so that you covered more ground. It wasn't that Rick was comfortable with splitting up the group, you thought; he just didn't have a choice. Lori was nearing her due date and you were all practically living on fresh air, moving from place to place quicker than you had the chance to catch your breath.

You hadn't even had time to settle things with Daryl. You barely saw the man. He'd leave first thing in the morning to look for food, and be back late at night - when most of the group had already fallen asleep. Even then, he often took watch straight after he returned. You could tell how responsible he felt for everyone and you saw the worry in his eyes daily, if the bags under them were anything to go by.

After you had kissed Daryl, back at the farm, you only had one conversation about it. It was a couple of days after you all fled, when you were taking watch with him as the rest of the group were stuck camping under the stars. It was brief, and before that the two of you had already gone back to acting as good friends, like usual. He'd told you that he wasn't good with words, and didn't want to just give you some half-assed response in the midst of struggling to survive the Georgia winter. You agreed, and it was decided then that you'd talk about it later. Yet, later never came.

It had been an unspoken rule between the two of you that everyone's safety was the priority. Though, in truth, you hadn't had a single moment where you felt safe since you left the farm. It seemed almost cruel that immediately after you'd told the man that you wanted to live, rather than just survive, you had been thrust out into the vicious world where that's all you could struggle to do. So, the two of you just existed at the moment.

Some mornings you'd wake up to sound of him leaving, and some evenings he'd be back early enough to share a meal with you. Other than that, you lived for the brief occasions where you'd take watch together, when he'd smoke a cigarette next to you and you'd sit in content silence. Though, sometimes it felt like you were frightened to say anything at all, in case you accidentally blurted out all of your feelings at once. So, the both of you barely talked - waiting for the time when you could actually talk.

You shoved some supplies into your satchel as you scoured the aisles. There wasn't much you could see that hadn't been taken already, but you picked up a few bandaids in case you ever needed them. The only thing you were able to save from the farm was your satchel. Luckily, it already had your polaroids in it and a change of clothes, since you'd been packing to move into the Greenes' farmhouse at the time the horde arrived. Still, there was so much you missed from those days.

You missed the material things, like the comfort you got just from seeing Dale's RV parked by the main camp. You missed the flimsy deck chairs surrounding it, and the big apple trees that gave it shade, and the books you'd borrow from Hershel's library to read when you had lookout duty on top of it. You missed your white dress that smelt like the washing powder that Patricia used - even though you knew it wouldn't have survived long out in these dingy, cold places. You even missed the intangible things, and felt a deep longing of nostalgia for the sounds of the leaves rustling in the breeze or for the sweetness of the air. Those days felt so far away from you now, like the images of them were slipping out of your grasp - like grains of sand before you could catch them.

The things that remained fresh in your mind, however, were the people that you left behind. You missed Patricia and Jimmy and Andrea, and even Shane. As much as that man rubbed you the wrong way, you didn't want to see him die. You didn't want any of them to die. That night was a mess. These days, you often woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares. Except, this time it was the faces of your family replacing the walkers that usually inhabited them. You missed the people you'd lost and you missed the place that you all thought was home. You also missed Daryl Dixon.

A loud clatter sounded from a few rows over from you, immediately making you thumb over your gun as you stilled in place.

"Carol?" You called over, unable to see her from behind the tall shelves. "Everything alright?"

She responded instantly, and you felt relief wash over you as she did.

"I'm fine. I just dropped a tin." She reassured you, her voice carrying as an echo in the empty store.

You let out a small sigh before continuing with your poor haul. It was times like these that you really felt your mind wander when it shouldn't. You knew that you should always be cautious, since you promised Rick that you'd look out for Carol. Though, quite frankly, you thought that he didn't give her enough credit. That woman was a force to be reckoned with, but not many people had realised it yet. Daryl had. The friendship the two of them shared was really admirable. He'd been the one to search for Sofia, and comfort Carol after the loss of her - and Carol was equally as good for him as he was for her. She'd been able to coax him out of his shell where even you struggled to, and you could see how he'd started to accept his new role within the group because of her.

You just wished, very selfishly, that you could be with him. You understood that he had a job to do now, and how not everyone was able to do the things he did. The group had women and children and older people and a pregnant Lori. You were all running on empty, barely hanging on as it was. Yet, those nights when he'd come back empty-handed, cursing himself under his breath when he thought you were all asleep, made you want to hold him close. You never did, knowing how much Daryl Dixon hated pity from anyone, but the longing was so strong that it made your eyes sting with tears.

Although things weren't awkward between the two of you, you didn't joke around nearly as much as you used to. The atmosphere always felt heavy, as nobody knew when the next meal would come, or how long this place would be safe before you had to move again. As the nights got bitterly cold, you huddled next to Beth for warmth, or Carol sometimes. You felt absolutely no shame in it. There were only a few tattered blankets to go around, but they barely did anything for your numb toes and stiff fingers. If you weren't all family before, then you definitely were now - given how close you'd all had to become.

Some nights, the ones which were your favourites, Daryl slept beside you. You didn't think it was intentional at first. Or, maybe it was. In the grand scheme of things, it was barely anything at all. Yet, the first time almost made you cry, as it felt like he was reminding you that he still cared for you. It wasn't like you ever embraced him, or did anything remotely intimate. You hadn't ever been anything more than the brief kiss you shared in his tent. Though, it still felt intimate to you.

He'd come in late, as usual, on a particularly cold night. You'd heard him slug off his boots and throw them aside as he stripped out of his heavy winter gear. The whole time, you'd pretended to be asleep, like you normally did. After a while, he finally laid down on the ground, clambering over the sleeping bodies of the rest of the group. You usually all huddled together in one room for warmth. You'd felt the floorboards creak and shift beneath you as he settled next to you, not that you were touching, but close enough to feel his presence and hear his breathing.

Once you were sure he'd fallen asleep, you scooted backwards slightly, so that your backs were touching. It was hardly anything, but the slight warmth you felt from him was more comfort than you'd had in weeks. You were touch starved and hungry and cold. You needed something. When you'd woken up the next morning, he was already gone. He never said anything about it, but since then you'd found yourself occasionally waking up in the middle of the night to your back pressed against his, or sometimes having a hand intertwined with your own.

As you finished down one aisle, you noticed another that had been left untouched. It was a toy section, quite small given the size of the store. Obviously, the necessities had been taken first, and you thought that whatever children had survived the apocalypse probably didn't have many things left to play with - since they were all still here. You trailed your finger over the dusty shelf, feeling the glossy plastic of the boxes and the soft fur of the stuffed animals piled there.

"Looking for something for the baby?" Carol asked, popping up behind you.

You immediately jumped, and flung a hand over your chest as you shot her a look. It had been your fault for not paying attention, but she didn't need to know that.

You shook your head. "Not intentionally." You admitted, eyes scanning over the selection. "But I suppose we could pick something up."

You chose one of the bears and shoved it into your satchel. Usually, you'd have looked for something for Carl, too, but he'd recently been acting a lot older than his years. He wanted to step up and protect everyone like his father, he confessed to you one day. You had to admit, he was a pretty good shot and certainly didn't seem like a child anymore. You didn't want to undermine his efforts by presenting him with an action figure in the midst of your current situation, telling him to take a break from killing walkers to play with it.

"Did you find anything?" You turned to look at Carol, who held up her bag that didn't seem anywhere near full.

She shrugged her shoulders at you and made a face. "Few expired cans, but nothing much." She frowned. "You?"

You shook your head softly and flipped open the flap of your satchel to show her your haul.

"Some bandaids and a Freddie Mercury bobblehead." You confessed, picking it out to show her.

You held up the small figure in front of her face, pulling back its comically large head with your thumb and letting it wobble.

"Cute, right?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Carol just gave a small chuckle in reply, folding her arms as though about to half-heartedly scold a child. You shrugged your shoulders before stuffing it back into the bag. Just because Carl didn't want to play with toys anymore didn't mean that you couldn't.

Carol glanced over at the entrance of the store, before giving the shelves a final scan. "We should get going soon." She noted, her bag clanking as she readjusted it over her shoulder. "Some walkers might have gathered outside by now."

You hummed in response, distracted by the array of multi-coloured boxes. "It's fine, I'll look after you." You said, shooting her a wink as she sighed.

The woman had become used to your teasing by now, and it was a welcomed change from how tense you all were most of the time. Even though you mostly used humor as a coping mechanism, especially when you felt nervous, it seemed to lighten the atmosphere when it got a bit too heavy.

"Though I don't think you even need me." You continued, eyeing the small pistol she had tucked into her jeans. "You're getting pretty good with a gun."

Carol snorted at that, reminding you of the time she almost shot a bullet through Rick's boot not so long ago. In her defence, Rick had been a lot more on edge that day, and you'd been quite tempted to do the same.

"Speak for yourself." She spoke, after you'd tried to convince her otherwise. "You started learning after me and your aim's already on parr with Rick's."

You remembered those first days, and how hard they were. Everyone had fallen into their roles and you'd felt almost stuck in place. You didn't know how best to contribute. It had taken the neighbourhood you were all staying in to get overrun before you had the chance to test your skills. You hadn't wanted to waste bullets before that, but you'd scarcely had a choice then.

"He's a good teacher." You smiled at Carol, giving Rick praise where it was due. "And there's no better practice than being terrified and having to learn on the job." You admitted with a strained laugh.

You continued walking down the aisle slowly, back in the direction of the entrance.

"But you're right, we should go." You agreed, gesturing to the door.

The two of you took a few steps together before you stopped abruptly as something caught your attention, right in the corner of your eye. You whipped your head around to look at one of the glossy toy boxes, reading its bold letter description.

"Oh my god." You mumbled to yourself, below your breath.

Carol looked over at you, confused. "What is it?" She asked, glancing in the direction where you were staring.

You couldn't hold back the grin that spread over your face as you grabbed the box and held it in your hand. You glanced over your shoulder, at Carol, before running your fingers back over the dusty plastic.

"No fucking way!" You yelled in disbelief. It seemed like your luck was finally changing.

Carol peered over your shoulder before letting out a chuckle at your expression.

"Now that would be perfect for the baby." She smiled, staring down at it in your hands.

You shook your head at her, looking up to meet her eyes. "I actually had someone else in mind." You admitted, still feeling the smile tug at the corners of your mouth as you said it. "It's a bit of an inside joke we have."

Carol hummed in reply, but didn't press for answers.

"But I agree." You went on, making room for the box to fit into your satchel. "It'll probably get handed down to baby Grimes at some point."

The walk back to the cabin was pretty uneventful. The two of you stayed in the cover of the forest, out of sight of the main road. You'd had to dispatch a couple of walkers on the way, but nothing that the two of you couldn't handle. At this point, you just wished for another set of clothes that weren't covered in muck and dried blood. You could hardly remember the last time you'd worn something clean - that hadn't just been dunked in a creek when you came across one.

As you walked, you must have strayed slightly off the path that you usually took, since you came across an unfamiliar, old Toyota truck that had veered off road and crashed into a tree. It was covered in dried leaves and all beat up, but you recognised the model as the same one belonging to Otis, back at the Greene farm. It was always parked outside there. It was a simple, two person pick up truck that was rusty red in colour, and it instantly made you think back on the night that you were forced into driving it.

After Rick had told you and Daryl that Randall had escaped, the whole farm went into an uproar. You stayed in the farmhouse whilst some of the group went to look for him, Daryl included. It wasn't long before you spotted the horde coming your way, and Hershel's barn had started to go up in flames in the distance. After that, you could barely remember what had happened.

You'd been with Daryl at first. He shot the walkers that got too close with his crossbow, before switching to guns. You did the same, trying to give the others an opportunity to pile into the vehicles and escape. At some point, however, you got completely cut off from the rest of the group and had been forced back to the opposite side of the farmhouse.

The chaos was indescribable. It was like you'd been drafted up for war in the span of half an hour. Soon, you had run out of bullets and only had your knife left to defend yourself. So, you ran. Not able to see any of the others anymore, you sprinted for the last vehicle left - Otis' old Toyota truck. You flung the door open and clambered inside, locking it just in time to avoid the hands that smacked up onto the glass windows. You remembered how your chest heaved as your hands fumbled around the dash frantically. You finally found the keys tucked into the sun visor above your head, and almost cried from relief.

When your hands stopped shaking long enough to put it in the ignition, you turned the key only for the engine to rumble once before falling flat. You tried it again, and it gave out a choked sputter and died.

"No, no, no." You whispered, turning the key over and over to try and start the truck. "This can't be happening."

The windows had almost been completely blacked out by the number of hands and faces pressed against them, the walkers snapping their jaws at you as you panicked inside. In the rearview mirror, you could even see some start to clamber into the truck bed, and knew that it was only a matter of time before they completely swarmed you. You slammed your hands onto the steering wheel in frustration and yelled, not caring whether you attracted more.

"I can't die now, I just kissed that stubborn asshole!" You screamed, accidentally hitting the windscreen wiper stick with your elbow. You watched as the blade caught one of the walkers' flesh and smeared it over the glass.

"Fucking great." You sighed, and turned the key again.

This time, you felt it catch slightly between your fingers, and thought that perhaps the starter motor was sticking. The truck hadn't been used since Otis' death, but it still seemed to have some life in it. You jiggled the key and turned it half way, praying to every deity you could think of. You twisted it fully, and the engine roared to life. You held your breath for a few seconds, not entirely trusting it, but as it continued to rumble you realised that it had started properly this time.

Not wanting to sit around any longer, you immediately set off, mowing down the stream of walkers in front of you all while hoping that the car wouldn't flip over. You watched your mirror as the ones clinging onto the truck bed were flung off as you picked up speed, and you almost wanted to yell out in triumph - but felt like you might be sick if you did so.

The truck was hell to drive. You couldn't figure out the stick for a while and your windscreen was covered in blood and smeared guts. You knew you had to head for the highway where the supplies for Sofia were left. You'd gone with Rick one time, when he went to wait for her there at noon. As you pulled out of Hershel's farm, you gave a final glance back in your mirror to see your home burn and become entirely inhabited by the undead - and noticed your little yellow submarine trampled to the ground as you did so.

As you neared the highway, after driving on the wrong side of the road for a while without realising it, you felt a knot start to form in your stomach. You hadn't seen the others get away - you didn't know if they were alive or dead, or even if they would have waited for you if they managed to escape. Your eyes blurred with tears as you drove, still not feeling any sense of relief despite having made it out of the farm. You just prayed that everyone was safe.

When you got closer to the meeting spot, you immediately noticed the familiar vehicles from the farm, and even Daryl's motorbike, all parked up. You stopped the truck once you couldn't go any further, being blocked by the abandoned cars. The group began to approach you quickly as you clambered out and hit the floor with shaky feet. Glenn reached you first, smiling widely when he saw that you were okay.

"Is that you?" He asked, clapping a hand over your trembling shoulders. "I've never seen anyone drive that badly before-"

You didn't let him finish, instead running over to Daryl on unsteady feet. You flung yourself into his arms, which pulled you in close and held you tight. You sobbed louder than you thought you ever had before, crying into his chest as you felt one of his hands stroke softly over your back. You didn't care what anyone thought at this moment. Nothing could describe the feeling of losing your home and thinking your family was dead. You realised how close you had been to being all alone, once again.

"Hey, c'mon look at me." He said softly, trying to pry himself out of your grip.

He lifted your chin up with his finger and you knew that you must've looked quite the state. Your eyes were completely blurred with tears, so much that you could barely make out the man in front of you, and your nose ran as you struggled to hold back your sobs.

"It's a'right." He reassured you, looking into your eyes as if realising that you needed further convincing. "Yer safe."

You looked around at the group, taking in their faces and feeling your hands tremble against Daryl's chest as they clutched the material of his shirt still. Everyone looked relieved, and offered you small smiles of comfort.

You stepped back from the man a little, giving him his space. You still couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was as if your body still hadn't caught up to your mind.

"I was so scared." You admitted quietly, voice quivering as you did so. "I thought you'd all left me."

You didn't drop your hands from his chest, letting yourself feel his heartbeat beneath your palms as a reminder that this was all real.

Daryl shook his head at you. "We'd never leave ya, Teach" He grumbled, as though he couldn't believe you'd even suggest it. "Went back to look for ya on the bike but I couldn't find ya."

Maggie stepped forward, pulling you into a hug as you finally released Daryl's shirt from your grip. She stroked your hair as she brought you into her chest, and you felt tears stream down your cheeks.

"You scared us all half to death." She told you, before gripping onto your shoulders tightly as you stood back from her.

Glenn nodded in agreement, before letting out a small chuckle. "Then we spotted Otis' truck barreling down the highway." He said, pointing over to the vehicle you'd abandoned. "Thought a walker was driving it the way you were swerving all over the place."

You tried to let out a laugh in return, but it came out all watery in between your sobs.

"The gearstick-" you choked out, hiccuping as you spoke. "Had to change gears with the wrong hand." You explained, lifting your arm to give a poor demonstration as you continued to cry.

"You-" you spluttered, letting out a wail mixed with a desperate laugh. "You stupid Americans."

It was a few days before you and Daryl crossed paths in the cabin again. It was late and you'd been trying to sleep for a few hours when the door creaked open. He'd shuffled around for a bit before you heard him take over watch duty from Glenn. At first, you'd wanted to go outside and scold him for never taking the time to rest, but after a few minutes you decided on a different plan. Prying yourself out from underneath the blanket you shared with Beth, you pulled on your boots - not bothering to do up the laces. The icy breeze hit your skin and caused it to prickle instantly, making you wish you had a spare comforter to take with you. You wouldn't be surprised if it snowed soon, given how dry and bitter the air had felt on your cheek earlier that day.

You retrieved your satchel and tip-toed around the sleeping bodies, doing your best not to step on any creaky floorboards and disturb them. You opened the cabin door slowly, and shut it behind you as you stepped out into the night. Daryl was sitting on the stone wall a few feet away, and you could tell that the smoke coming from his lips was from more than just the cold. He had a cigarette lit between his fingers, and you could make out the familiar lighter that he flicked open and closed in his other hand. You approached with purposefully loud footsteps, not wanting to startle him. He didn't turn around, waiting until you came closer.

"Mind if I join you?" You shot him a smile, pulling your arms to your chest to try and protect yourself against the chill.

He hummed in response, and you noticed how exhausted he looked in the glow of the lighter flame that flickered near his cheeks. His hands were covered in dirt, as were parts of his face, and his hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck despite how cold it was. Though, you were sure that you didn't look any better. Your once white vest was now a grubby brown colour and you'd pulled your long hair into a bun on top of your head about a week ago and hadn't looked back since.

Wordlessly, the man shrugged off the poncho he'd found recently, and handed it to you. He had another leather jacket on underneath, but you still felt guilty. You thanked him, pulling it over your head and instantly feeling grateful for the warmth that engulfed you. He then pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering it over to you where he sat. You shook your head and gave him a small smile as he shrugged and stuffed them back into his jacket.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just watching and listening to the night. Nothing was uncomfortable between you. It's just that the two of you were almost like magnets, trying to intentionally stay away from each other. You feared that the two of you might never be able to seperate if you stuck together for good. It wasn't awkward, but there was definitely unspoken tension, like you were both waiting for something that you couldn't let happen yet.

"I miss my tent." You sighed, watching your breath appear as a small puff of air against the black night.

Daryl grumbled at that. "I sure as hell don't." He muttered, taking a final drag from his smoke before snuffing it out on the wall. "Thing was an eyesore."

You chuckled a bit at his response, not really sure what you were expecting. "You loved it, really." You teased, shooting him a wink that he dismissed.

"Whatever, Sunshine." He mumbled back, but his voice sounded a lot lighter than it had for a while.

After a few seconds, you remembered your satchel, now safely tucked away in the warmth of the poncho you wore. You fumbled around beneath it for a bit, which made Daryl give you a look, before pulling out the canvas bag and setting it onto your lap.

"I have something for you." You beamed, feeling the breeze sting your sore, chapped lips.

Daryl sighed at you, finally looking over to meet your eyes.

"Ya need to stop gettin' me shit." He drawled, with no bite behind his words.

You shook your head quickly at the accusation. "It isn't from me!" You almost yelled, before reminding yourself that there were people sleeping a few feet away, and lowering your voice.

You glanced back at the cabin and pointed to it. "This place has no chimney, so he told me to pass it onto you."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at you, which you ignored. Instead, you fished around in your satchel until you found what you were looking for. You could barely contain your excitement as you pulled out the box wrapped messily in old newspapers, and handed it to him expectantly.

He took it from you carefully, as though not entirely trusting it. Though, he still held it gently in his hand, in case he was afraid to break it. You watched intently as he flipped it over and squinted his eyes at the writing on it, confusion clear on his face. You'd scribbled on it earlier in the day, having found a sharpie tucked away in one of the drawers. You'd tried to do it secretively, but almost had a heart attack when Glenn asked you what you were doing - dropping the gift and kicking it under the couch until he promised to leave. Luckily, you hadn't found any dents on it afterwards. Yet, you now found it almost comical how carefully Daryl treated the box, considering what you had done to it only a few hours before.

Your eyes scanned over the letters with him as he read them, seeing the words written on top of the newspaper in black, bold print:

'To Young Daryl Dixon,

Merry Christmas!

From, Father Christmas.'

By the time he looked up to question you, you were already watching his eyes - waiting to see his expression. At the moment, his face was still scrunched up in confusion, which made you chuckle. The man looked at you like you'd just handed him a bomb he didn't know how to diffuse.

"Father Christmas?" He asked slowly, like the syllables were foreign on his tongue.

You cocked your head to the side, looking back down at the gift and wondering if you'd made a mistake. Your eyes widened.

"Shit." You muttered below your breath, before looking back up to meet his gaze. "It's Santa Clause to you people, isn't it?" You questioned.

Daryl looked at you in disbelief, as if wondering what the hell you were going on about. You were used to that look from him by now, and continued to ramble.

"I'm sure that's what he meant." You said, nodding. "He probably was in a rush when he wrote it." You looked away from the man, trying not to giggle as you remembered the whole incident between you and Glenn.

He continued to stare at you before shaking his head.

"Yer crazy, woman." He grumbled, picking the wrapped box back up to inspect it closer.

You felt your patience reach its limit, unable to contain your excitement anymore. You shoved his arm.

"Just open it!" You ordered, and he did.

For a man so rough around the edges, you'd never seen someone unwrap a gift so gently before. He didn't rip into the paper like you would have, but spent a few extra seconds pulling the parcel tape off and unfolding it with care. Once it was opened up on his lap, you watched his face as he finally saw the plastic box inside.

You knew it wasn't the exact same one he'd told you about, from all of those years ago, but it must've been close. It was a child's sheriff kit. It had the little hat that looked similar to Rick's, and the pointy metal badge in the shape of a star. When you'd seen it in the store, you just knew you had to get it for him. He might have forgotten telling you about it by now, but you had remembered.

"It didn't come with a gun, I'm afraid." You pointed to the plastic window of the box, explaining it to him. "But we have plenty of those."

You shot him a smile as you saw his expression. It was still confused, as he glanced between you and the box in his palms, but it was a lot more shy and uncertain now. You could almost see the thoughts working overtime in that head of his, as he processed it all, and decided to stop staring at him.

"It was either this or a Freddie Mercury bobblehead." You noted, feeling your cheeks hurt at how much you were beaming at the man. "And I wanted the bobblehead."

He sat in silence, just listening to your ramblings as he usually did. His eyes were still fixated on the gift, as if making up for all the years he'd wished for it as a child. You desperately wanted to slip your hand into his, or rest your head on his shoulder - but you refrained. You didn't want to take away from this moment; you just wanted to watch it. That, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to let him go if you did.

"You said how you never got any presents as a kid." You started carefully, trying to navigate your thoughts into words. "It made me sad." You admitted, in more of a whisper this time.

Daryl looked over at you, his expression soft. It was like he was uncertain of his own words, too.

"I know it's stupid." You confessed, voice trailing off as you lost your nerve.

"Nah it aint." He interrupted, shaking his head and trying to get you to look at him. "I love it."

You thought he was being sarcastic until your eyes met his and you saw the sincerity within them, and suddenly your breath caught in your throat. Daryl Dixon gave you a smile so warm that it almost made you forget it was winter. You didn't know he could even make these kinds of expressions, and you weren't able to entirely hide your reaction. Though, his smile went as quickly as it came. He looked away from you, as if noticing he'd let his stubborn, unapproachable wall crumble down. You snorted, wondering if he truly hadn't realised that you knew him better than that by now.

"I thought that baby Grimes could play with it eventually." You suggested, and he hummed in agreement.

"But in the meantime-" you continued, taking the box from his hands and opening it.

He watched you with curious eyes but didn't say anything, just letting you carry on like you had him wrapped around your little finger. You fumbled with the box, pulling out the star shaped badge, before handing the rest back. You turned so that you were facing opposite him, and pulled on his leather jacket so that it opened.

He grumbled at you as you did it, but made no effort to pull away or stop you. Instead, you flipped open one side of his jacket and pinned the badge on the material inside, closing it again before the cold set it.

"It belongs to Deputy Dixon, as promised." You finished with a smile, watching as he thumbed over the metal concealed in his jacket. The look on his face showed just how much he struggled to figure you out.

To your surprise, he didn't remove it straight away. He just bit his lip, as though trying to think of how to respond.

"Yer too much, Teach." He said lowly, after a few seconds.

"How so?" You asked.

He glanced back down into his lap, at the box that was still resting there. "Doin' all this." He mumbled, seeming like he was holding himself back. You stayed silent, waiting for him to go on.

"You bring back comics for Carl, an' stuff for the baby." He said, looking down as he spoke. "We're all here tryna do our best jus' to survive, an' you come in with that huge beamin' smile on yer face showin' us a bobblehead ya found."

He finally met your eyes, and you could see from his look that he just genuinely couldn't comprehend it. You seemed to completely allude Daryl Dixon, and the thought of him struggling to try to understand you better made you almost giddy.

"I know it's odd." You admitted, pulling the poncho closer to your body as the wind picked up. "But just because our priority is surviving doesn't mean that we should put off living."

You bit your lip. This was the most you had spoken to the man in weeks, and as the seconds went by you found it harder and harder to hold yourself back.

"I thought you could use a reminder of that." You said, offering him a small smile. "You work so hard to try and keep us all fed and safe, I wanted to give you something as a thank you."

The newspaper fluttered in the breeze, and Daryl barely caught hold of it as a gust picked it up. You caught a glimpse of your handwriting, where he held it between his fingers.

"Santa Clause did, I mean." You corrected.

You sat together in silence for a while, but the man didn't light any more cigarettes. You felt yourself growing tired and attempted to convince him to swap his shift with someone else, but he refused. You knew the sun would start to rise in a couple of hours, so you wanted to get some sleep before then. Begrudgingly, you shuffled out of the oversized poncho and offered it back to the man before you left, immediately being reminded of how icy the weather had gotten. He shook his head at your outstretched hand, which you had already expected.

"Nah, you keep it." He said, in a way that left you no room to argue.

You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling nostalgic at the familiar situation. This time, however, you didn't fight with him. Slipping the material back over your head, you huddled it to your chest and whispered a soft 'thanks' to him. The sky was still dark, and kept you wondering whether you would start to see sleet fall in the next couple of days. You looked back over to the dilapidated cabin, with its wooden weathered walls and its roof that looked close to caving in. It was a far cry from Hershel's idyllic farmhouse, but somehow you didn't seem to mind as much on this specific night.

You slipped off the stone wall you'd been sitting on and stood up on your tip-toes to reach the man still sat there. You brushed away the hair over his face with the palm of your hand, and gave him a brief kiss on the forehead before turning to leave.

"Merry Christmas, Daryl." You told him, and returned to the house to watch the first snowflakes fall from the window.

A/N Don't you love it when the plot points you set up 6 chapters ago come back around to be resolved. It's *delicious*. I think I would actually pay to see the Christmas scene play out. There's only so much imagination can do - I want to see Daryl's shy reaction in person, too!

As usual, drop me a message to be included in the tags list!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @greenbeansarelit @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli

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chocolate-parfait · 3 years

Note

I see the askbox is open 🙂 You don’t know the speed at which I raced here.

But I was really hoping that you could do headcanons for Arthur (vamp), Masamune (Sen), and Mitsuhide (Sen) with a s/o who is an author? Like Tolkien almost, she writes high fantasy and is super well known? (bonus points if she goes back in time with one of her novels on her to show them exactly).

I hope it’s not confusing^^

I adore your writing so I hope to see whatever you publish in the future!

Thank you so much!!

Waa thank you sm for your support!! It really means a lot, thank you ❤ ❤ I hope you enjoy!

Author!MC who writes high fantasy novels - (Arthur, Masamune & Mitsuhide)

Arthur

Arthur is extremely amused and intrigued when he hears about your occupation, and even more so when he discovers that you’re a pretty big shot, too. For once, he completely discards appearances (although he still thinks you’re very pretty) and is genuinely interested in your job, frequently asking details about your writing process, your stories and such.

Your books come from two completely different universes, as we have realism and crime against fantasy and supernatural. Yet, when you offer your book for him to read, he falls absolutely in love with it. Although it may not seem like it, Arthur is quite the superstitious man, and has always had a certain interest in the occult and paranormal. Long story short, he becomes your number one fan.

He asks Comte to bring back your books from the future so that he can read them all (if you find out he’ll admit it with a sheepish smile and a blush on his face), and even then he feels like he doesn’t know enough about the different worlds described in your books and about their writer, you. If the topic pops up during conversations he'll take his chance and curiously ask you more and more questions about your job; if not, he'll pick up hints along the way whenever he can.

Your writing schedule will easily adapt to the domesticity of your relationship. You both write together in the same room (sometimes his, sometimes yours, or even in the dining room) as it can be very motivational, and you’re both ready to comfort the other whenever a lack of inspiration puts a stop to your writing. Furthermore, it’s very practical when it comes to taking breaks! He’ll cuddle with you while asking how everything’s coming along and if you need him to help you get some ideas. (this man will def sneak kisses whenever you're absorbed in your own little world because he adores the pout that magically appears on your lips whenever you're concentrated)

Overall, he’s very supportive of what you do. He understands the struggles of being a writer, but he also adores how much of a professional you are. Would probably be a fanboy even if you two didn’t know each other (he’d buy your books in secret so that Theo doesn’t tease him; the great mystery writer who adores realism, falls in love with high fantasy books. The man would never let him see the end of it)

Masamune

Even before knowing that you actually come from the future, Masamune is extremely curious to see some of your works once he hears that you’re a writer. As someone who writes poetry, knowing that you have the same passion makes him like you even more; although your occupations are as different as they can be, he still enjoys finding a common ground with you. Sometime later, after he has already discovered about your particular situation, he’ll also come to learn about the differences between what he thought you did and what your job really is. Fundamentally the job is always the same, but the whole process and the final products are almost completely different than what he had expected.

He doesn’t know what high fantasy is, but when you do tell him about all the various genres and such, he finds himself not too weirded out by the idea; it’s very similar to popular folklore, after all.

When he asks you to tell him one of your stories, you find the perfect situation to show him a physical copy of one of your best-sellers. He’s amazed by the weird-looking book. It’s experiencedly crafted and perfectly written (that’s printing for you<3), and he curiously fidgets with it as he asks endless questions about it. Unfortunately, he can’t read anything (even if it was written in modern Japanese he’d probably be able to grasp 3 words in a whole page or smth, lol), so you find yourself narrating your stories to him. (you receive great in-depth feedback for each chapter in return!! Masamune will be 100% honest with you and takes it v seriously). It becomes a daily occurrence that neither of you wants to miss. Each night, just before bed, you read out loud part of your book as Masamune quietly listens to your every word, wholly enraptured by the story.

He’s the most supportive partner one could wish for, and he’s always ready to show your works off to everyone he knows. He’ll help you get in touch with local printers and see what he can find amongst all the imported goods to make your job easier. If you ever find yourself stuck, he’ll gladly take you on a stroll to help you get your mind off writing for a bit to come back more refreshed and inspired.

Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide is a man who mostly communicates through lies, vague descriptions or distorted realities just to confuse others. As such, he finds your writing skills and wide imagination to be quite useful and admirable. He can be a capable storyteller if needed, so you often wonder why he doesn’t try writing every once in a while.

This said, he never expected for his kitsune story to strike up a chord in you to the point you’d write a story with a character heavily based on him as the protagonist. He’s quite flattered to say the least. When you hand the finished manuscript to him as a gift, he reads it all in one night. (let's pretend he'd be able to understand ahahah...) He’s amazed by your skill and the world you managed to describe through such vivid wording, but you'll have to read between his teasing words to grasp his real feelings about the gift, although he sincerely thanks you profusely.

The novel is the first work of yours he has ever had the chance to read, so he stores it away very carefully in a corner of his room, but curiosity makes him wonder about your previous works though he doesn't directly ask you anything about them. Sure, he'll probably drop some hints here and there concerning this hidden wish of his, but that's totally up to you to understand. Sooner or later he finds two copies of some of your books in the bag in your room (it was totally accidental, he wouldn't just barge in your room and look through your things like that), and he feels like he's fallen in love all over again. There's this particular level of mastery with which you handle your words that leave him spellbound and amazed. Who would have ever thought that his little clumsy mouse was such an expert writer?

In general, Mitsuhide is the closet fanboy. He won't be as open about his love for your stories as Masamune, but he's not afraid to be direct about his feelings every once in a while, especially if you really need to hear supporting words from him. If anyone ever brings up your skills during a conversation, he'll hum in affirmation with a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips.

#answered #ikemen sengoku #ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #ikesen masamune #ikesen mitsuhide #tplosh #date masamune #akechi mitsuhide #my writing #ikevamp imagines #ikesen headcanons #ikesen imagines #ikesen scenarios #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp headcanons

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Extracurricular

Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: You go out to unwind from your schoolwork but can’t seem to escape a certain professor’s attention.

Note: Pinched nerve don’t care. I’ve written this as I’m laying on a heating pad and praying for absolution. Hope y’all enjoy because by the time this goes up I’ll be at work and hating life.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Midterms were finally over. It had been a long two weeks; all nighters, energy drinks, and stress headaches. Now you were ready to forget it all in a single night.

Your dress was a little too short and a little too tight. A pink number with large sequins. It looked straight out of the nineties; an appropriate choice for your girls’ night. A downtown club was hosting a ladies night with a retro theme and you felt like the spice girl you’d once idolized. And a little buzzed.

Lexi had invited you along with her roommates, Cece and Rima, to dance off the dread of your results. Study had been half the battle, it was still to see if it had done you any good. In your Twentieth Century Lit class, you were certain you’d fallen on your face. Figuratively, though you had done so literally your first day. It had set a precedent for your apparent cluelessness.

You followed the girls inside after your hand was stamped and the flashing lights mingled with the thumping music and filled your body. You were enlivened by the bodies already dancing and the voice that underlined the melody. A single pre-drink and you were already feeling tomorrow’s hangover.

You joined the chaos of the dance floor as Lexi searched her purse and came out victorious with a handful of bills. ��First rounds on me!” She sang, “How about it girls? You ready for more?”

“Holy shit, Lex,” Cece giggled, “Another night with the sugar daddy?”

“Don’t call him that,” Lexi retorted.

“Well, what would you call him?” Rima countered. “You fuck him, he gives you money.”

“Shut up before I shut you up!’ Lexi whined.

“Hey, both of you,” you warned and grabbed Lexi’s hand, “And stop waving that around.”

“Oh thank youuuu,” she clung to you, “I’ll have a vodka soda.”

“Wha-- no.”

“Do they have whiteclaw?” Rima asked.

“Ew. don’t,” Cece wrinkled her nose, “I’ll have a vodka too.”

“Fine, vodka cran!” Rima nearly hollered. The girls must have started well before you showed up to their dorm.

You huffed and took the fistful of bills. You sidled through the crowd of pairs and groups writhing and waving to the music. Another drink would make you less aware.

You stepped up to the bar and found yourself nearly bowled over by another patron as she stumbled away with her drink. You knocked the arm of a man leaned against the bar top and turned to apologize.

“Oop, sorry, I didn’t--” You froze and blinked several times in disbelief. The familiar face grinned in recognition. “Professor Drysdale? What are you--”

“I didn’t know it was ladies night,” he spoke over the music, “Had my last exam and thought I’d unwind but--” He looked around. “I didn’t take you for the club type.”

You squirmed as his eyes strayed from your face and you got closer to the bar. “Well, not every night,” you chuckled.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he raised his hand and waved to the bartender. “Took me a moment, to be honest.”

“Ahh,” you watched the bartender near and he bent to hear your order. You got yourself a gin after your last sour experience with vodka.

You watched the bartender work, unsure of what to say to your unexpected company. His remark stuck in your head. You often sat in his class in your favourite loose cardigan or a sweat with fraying cuffs. Massachusetts was growing colder by the day and only the alcohol and your lack of a damn kept you warm that night.

“So, I guess you’re here with friends,” he said.

“Yeah, just a few of us.” You said as you rubbed your sweaty fingers on the bills. The bartender pushed your drink across the bar but Professor Drysdale was quicker than you as he held out a fifty.

“My treat.” He said.

“Oh no,” you tried to grab his hand but he waved it at the bartender again. “You don’t need to--”

“Come on. Save your money. You college kids need all you can get,” he insisted.

You smiled awkwardly and carefully took two cups in each hand. You lifted them as he watched you. You peeked over at him and found his eyes glued to you.

“Thank you, professor,” you said.

“Ransom,” he corrected you, “I’m not much of a dancer… but I don’t mind the music. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again.”

“Maybe.” You turned and narrowly missed another collision.

You followed the maze of bodies back to your group and doled out the drink. Your fingers were left sticky with soda and you took a deep gulp of your own. You tried not to think of the odd encounter with your professor. It wasn’t too unusual you spotted the occasional faculty downtown; students often stuck to the campus bar. Even so, you were surprised at his interest. In class, he barely seemed to recall your name, even if you were the only one who raised your hand. Well, maybe he had also indulged a little too much.

You forgot your paranoia as soon as you finished your drink. You set aside the plastic cup and lost yourself in TLCs greatest hit. You’d regret it in the morning when it mattered.

🥂

After the second drink, came the third, the fourth, and fifth that tasted more like a double. The lights blurred in your vision and the music made your head swell delightfully.

The night had worn on and as a slow R&B tune came on, you weren’t quite sure what to do. Cece had long ago found a guy to hang off and Rima and Lexi were all too happy to start dancing with each other. You hiccupped and contemplated a break against the wall.

You were startled as you felt a hand on your back and kept from your retreat.

“Need a partner?” Ransom’s voice flooded into your veins like the alcohol; warm and disorienting.

“Huh, oh, no, it’s--” You giggled bashfully. “That’s fine.”

“Come on,” he pulled you against him, your back to his front, “Wasn’t too long ago I was out here with all the coeds.”

“Professor--”

“Ransom,” he purred in your ear. “I like this song.”

“I don’t think--”

“Don’t think then,” he said sharply as his arm snaked around you and urged you closer. He leaned in and spoke in your ear. “Seeing your ass in that dress makes me wonder why you ever cover it up.”

“Pr--Ransom, please, I--”

“It’s just a dance, sweetie,” he grinded into you and you felt a twitch in his pants. “Just like that.”

He guided your drunken body against his as his fingers danced along the hem of your dress. The music swept you up as you dizzily surrendered to him. Behind the haze, you knew it was wrong, but you knew you were strong enough to resist. And part of you, didn’t believe your professor was groping you.

“Mmm, you’re so sweet,” he groaned, “That’s it,” he rubbed his crotch against you, “Let me feel that ass.”

“Professor,” you breathed as one his hands caressed your thigh, “You shouldn’t--”

“Wish you dressed like this in class.” He slithered, “Nice little short skirt. You can sit in the front row and give me a little peek.”

“Stop,” you hissed as your vision swam and panic rose in your chest, the gin making you unsteady and uncertain, “Please.”

“Please,” he echoed, “I love to hear you beg me, sweetie.”

“I-I-I--” you stuttered stupidly and finally tore away from him. “I have to pee.”

Your ankle bent in your heel and you hurried past him. You nearly fell as you batted away his hand and fled to the restroom. You stopped by the doorway at the edge of the floor and looked back. Ransom watched you with head tilted and a smirk on his lips, unbothered by the drunk horde around him. You turned and quickly shielded yourself with the door.

You took a breath and ambled forward to stare at yourself in the mirror. Were you that drunk or was your professor really trying to get in your pants?

🥂

When you returned to the girls, Ransom was gone. You didn’t look around for him much, afraid you might find him. You finally tore Cece away from her partner as Lexi began to lean heavily. You took her under the arm and realised that every one of you were a mess. It would be a parade of fools trying to get home.

You got your jackets from the check and went out into the bitter cold. You shivered as you left Lexi to hang off Rima and you swayed as you hailed a cab. A yellow taxi pulled up and you opened the door as you ushered the rest of the girls in. A hand rested beside yours atop the door.

“Looks like there’s no room for you,” Ransom said and you flinched as you looked at him.

“I can get in the front,” you argued weakly.

“Ride with me.” He raised his hand to call another cab, “You don’t wanna overcrowd the car.”

“No, I can--”

“It’s cold!” Cece pulled the door from your grasp and it slammed, nearly knocking you over. “Driver, Western Building on campus.”

“Wait--” The driver pulled away without pause and you stumbled off the curb.

Ransom caught you and pulled you back up. He wrapped his arm around you as another taxi appeared.

“You’re pretty fucked up, sweetie, I can’t have you riding alone,” he opened the door and bent to usher you inside. You struggled but not much, hauling yourself across the seat as he followed closely. He gave an address you didn’t recognize as he shut the door.

“What-- where--” You touched your forehead as you leaned back against the seat. “Professor--”

“I like how you call me that,” he reached over and rested his hand on your leg, “Don’t worry, sweetie, better you come with me than some creep.”

You grabbed his hand and tried to push it away but it didn’t budge. He squeezed your thigh and got closer. His other arm went around your shoulder and drew you against him.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re tired. Just close your eyes.” He hummed. “I’ll get you back safe.”

You shook your head but your eyelids drooped against your will. The dancing, the gin, the weeks of sleep deprivation piled atop you and dragged you into a blurred stupor. You felt detached from the world as it passed outside the car windows and suddenly a door opened and closed. Your body was moving but not of your own volition.

Your vision cleared for a moment and you looked up at a large house with immense windows. You blinked and you were inside. You sat for a moment as Ransom moved around and you were lifted up. You were cradled in his arms as he carried up a flight of stairs and through the unfamiliar hallway. You bounced atop a mattress with a jolt.

“Wha--” you quivered and tried to sit up. Your head spun as your lashes fluttered.

You sat dumbly, barely able to hold yourself up on shaky arms as Ransom undressed. You babbled as he revealed his muscled chest and thick arms. He was entirely unlike the first, and only boy, you’d been with. He was a man.

“I’m drunk…” you slurred, “I can’t… you’re my--my--”

“That’s right,” he reached into his jeans pocket, his fly open, “I’m your professor,” he pulled out his phone and neared. He nudged you so that you fell onto your back and pushed your legs apart. You looked up at him as he snapped photos of you. You raised your hand to try to hide yourself. “If anyone were to find out you tried to seduce me, and for a better grade, you’ll be expelled. A star scholar like you, untouchable for any university in the country. Pity.”

“You can’t.” You murmured as you closed your legs and tried to sit up but found it almost impossible. “You…”

“I will and if you try to blow the whistle, I’ll do it first and I’ll be a whole lot more convincing than the girl everyone saw piss drunk tonight.” He sneered, “Now open those legs for me, sweetie.”

You didn’t move. You hugged yourself with your arms as you were caught in a heavy tide. You were terrified, worse; helpless. You listened to the rustle of his clothing and the mattress dipped by your feet.

His hands began at your ankles and glided up to your knees. He pushed your legs apart as you held them together. You were forced to relent as he pinched you viciously and your muscles quaked. He moved between your legs and rubbed your thighs as your skirt rode up. He pressed two fingers along the crotch of your panties.

“What’s the point of these in a dress like that, huh?” He began to tease you through the fabric, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You scared?” He slowly pulled aside your panties and touched your folds, “Am I your first?”

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You whimpered as he flicked your clit.

“Maybe not your first but definitely the best,” he purred, “Ah, ah, you’re already wet. Kept you waiting all night, didn’t I?”

“Please, I don’t want to--”

“Shhh,” his fingers slipped down to your entrance and he traced it carefully, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you want,” he poked his finger inside of you, “But your body does.” He added another and glided in and out of your easily. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“P-p-pl--” Your voice fizzled as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back and your eyelids shut. You were lost in a daze of pleasure and confusion. You were trapped but that coil winding inside you didn’t want to escape. The knot of nerves tangling tighter and tighter overpowered your fear and had you bracing the mattress. Your legs bent without a thought and your back arched. Ransom hummed as he guided your body closer to the edge.

Your nails curled into the duvet and your toes clenched. You tried to breathe, the taste of gin still on your tongue, and cried out instead. You shook as you came but it didn’t feel like your body. You felt as if you were floating above as you were used by this man. Your legs went limp and slid straight as you panted wildly and the world was specks of light as you opened your eyes.

“Teacher’s pet, aren’t you?” He taunted. “You always have the answers.”

You focused on Ransom as the room remained a fog behind him. A halo seemed to limn his figure as he drew his hand from your cunt and licked his fingers. He delighted in the taste and planted his hands on the bed and bent over you.

“That smug little smile when you’re right. You’re always right.” He hissed. “I had girls like you in my classes. Always thought they needed a good fuck.”

You touched his chest and pushed pathetically. He chuckled as his nose brushed yours.

“You know, when you bend over to get a pen from your bag, I can see straight down your shirt,” he winked, “It makes me wanna bend you over myself. You know how hard it is to teach when you’ve got me all riled up?”

“I didn’t-- Never…” you murmured, your head lolling as you found it hard to follow his words, hard to keep from drifting away entirely.

“I was going to wait until the break… Tonight was unexpected but not unwanted,” he uttered as he reached between your bodies. He dragged his tip along your folds. “You should know what you do to me.”

He stopped at your entrance and slowly pushed inside. Your mouth formed an O and he groaned with each inch. His arm came back up and hooked under your shoulder as he sank to his limit. You moaned at how full you were. Your walls hugged him and you grasped his shoulder as you tried to pull away from him.

He grabbed your jaw and held your head straight as he glared down at you and jerked his hips.

“That’s all you, sweetie,” he muttered, “Does it hurt you like it hurts me?”

He began to thrust and your legs bent around him as you tried to ease the pain. Since your regrettable high school sweetheart, you hadn’t done anything more than some foreplay and that had been shameful, if not forgettable. You closed your eyes, your head swirled and your body bounced against the bed as the darkness embraced you.

When you opened your eyes next, your head hung to the side as Ransom held himself over you, arms straight as he rutted. His gaze clung to the joining of your bodies and the slick noise of it. His hair dangled down from his head as he watched himself fuck you, slamming harder and faster each time as if driven by the sight.

You winced and let out a moan. It hurt, delightfully so, but in the back of your alcohol-laced mind, you knew it was wrong.

He lowered himself slowly, bending to take your nipple in his mouth and suckle as he continued to rock against you. His thrusts grew sharper as his groans sent a rumble through your chest. Your thighs tingled and your core thrummed as you were overcome by your drunken ecstasy.

Your voice filled the room as you came again and you didn’t realise it was yours. Ransom drew back and sat up as he lifted your pelvis, crashing into you as hard as he could as he bared his teeth. His eyes were smoky as he grunted and his motion turned frantic.

“I’m gonna- ahhh,” he took several long thrusts as he flooded you with his orgasm.

He kept going until the sensation made him spasm and he hung his head. He reached down to spread your cunt and admired it as he slowly slid out. As his cum leaked from you, he scooped it up with his fingers and pushed it back in, spreading the rest along your folds.

“Shit,” he said as he grazed your thighs with his nails, your eyes closed and consciousness fading with his voice, “Such a good girl…”

🥂

You felt as if you were buried in sand when you woke up. The world was too bright and yet too dull. The night before was blank, a void, and your surroundings were a greater mystery. The framed manuscripts, the antique side table with a twisted vase atop it, the pristine white walls. You groaned as every move made your head throb.

You rolled onto your back and gurgled. Your stomach stirred and you struggled to keep it from erupting. You turned your head slowly as your hand felt along the arm beside you. Ransom Drysdale, your Lit professor, watched you as you stared back confused. His bare torso made your cheeks burn and the dress bunched up around your waist added to your embarrassment. How had this happened?

“What-- Professor--”

“If I spank you, would you scream that for me? ‘Professor’?” He mocked.

“I don’t--” You sat up and it sent a strike of pain down the back of your skill, “What happened? How--”

“Do you want to see the pictures?” He sat up and his hand tickled along your back. “I think you might be able to guess without them.”

You blinked at him and drew away from his touch. You turned your legs over the side of the bed and took a breath before you stood. You pulled your dress up over your arms and tugged the skirt back down as you searched for your panties.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked.

“I have to get… back to campus,” you gripped your head. “Where’s my purse?”

“Relax,” he cooed, “I’ll drive you back…” You heard him stand and turned as he approached you, naked. “But I think that we should get cleaned up first.”

“I--We--”

“A nice hot shower,” he licked his lips and leaned in, “Or do you like walking around with me all down your leg?”

You reeled and your stomach churned. You covered your mouth and shoved him away. You ran for the small door on the other side of the room and thankfully, found a toilet within. You wretched into the bowl until your body ached. You sensed his shadow behind you.

“You just make sure you wash your mouth out, sweetie,” he stepped past you and cranked the shower on, “I didn’t get a chance to play with that yet.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #fic #dark!fic #one shot #dark fic

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caramelcal · 4 years

Text

You can’t sit

Request: Anonymous said:omg Can I Sit? was so cute sofmsmfmadmandma can a make a lil request based on it? like it’s their usual thing sitting together since that day, BUT one day nat arrives and somebody sat on her seat? retired assassin mode activated? 🥴

Word Count: 1.3k

a/n: OMGGGG, THIS!!!! this request, wow. amazing. i literally wrote can i sit back so long ago but yes, of course you can make a request! i’m definitely going to be taking more nat requests now omg, also wanda?? steve?? eye- oh lordy just anyone tbh

Also, just to clear something up, at the end it speaks about y/n waiting for nat to do something, that’s cause you’re too scared even though you know nothing bad would happen. (Trying to keep this ague but informing, it isn’t working)

Natasha walked towards the small coffee shop with a smile on her face, maybe a slight bit too excited to see you. You both had been meeting up at the coffee shop ever since, but the excitement buried in the pit of your stomachs never seemed to go away no matter how normal the meet-ups became. It was a nice feeling, talking into the late hours of the day, talking over the phone, and sending each other little flirty and joking messages.

The other avengers found out two months after you and Natasha exchanged phone numbers. Natasha, who was normally void of any emotion on her face couldn’t help the smile erupting on her face one time as she checked her phone during a break from training and, as usual, Tony felt inclined to ask. Despite Natasha shrugging it off, after a lot of careful watching, it became pretty obvious as to why Nat was suddenly 'too' smiley.

“So Nat,” Tony had asked, a sly smirk on his face as Natasha’s green eyes broke away from her phone and up to the billionaire, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Clint tried to hide the laugh that traveled up his throat, it was very obvious that Natasha was not into men. Sure, she hadn’t outwardly said so towards anyone but Clint or brought a girl home, but you could just tell. Natasha placed the phone down on her lap, crossing her arms over her chest, “Why would you think there was a guy?”

“Come on,” Tony drawled, sassily rolling his eyes before he pointed towards the phone in her lap, “The smiles, constantly checking your phone. Sure, you didn’t really participate in conversations to begin with but at least you acted like you were listening. We’re pretty interesting people y’know, Natalia, but clearly, the guy on your phone is much more interesting.”

The rest of the avengers watched on, some sitting silently awaiting Natasha’s answer, Peter with wide eyes at the semi-interrogation and Steve with a raised eyebrow, completely oblivious to what was going on.

From the corner of her eye, Natasha saw Wanda’s eyes flash red briefly before she let out a small snort, “Oh this is going to be good.”

“There isn’t a guy,” Natasha shook her head, sending Wanda a sly smirk as Tony’s eyes furrowed and he opened his mouth to interject. Yet, before he could, Natasha continued to speak, “There’s a girl though. If that’s what you’re asking.”

Silence filled the room. Tony’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide as he stared at the redhead, many of the other avengers copying his movement.

His face was a picture that Natasha wanted permanently tattooed on her brain, Tony’s jaw practically dragging on the floor, eyes wide and stuck like a statue in shock. Natasha knew you would love the story and would find him finding out just as funny as you would, so as she pushed the door of the coffee shop open, an eager smile was on her face.

However, her smile dropped when she caught onto your figure. You were still as beautiful as ever, hair in a hairstyle she has often seen on you, yet it still blew her away every time she saw you in it. You had comfy yet stylish clothes on, and Natasha wished you’d wear it more often but her mind didn’t stay on that long; she was too busy trying not to snap the person’s neck that was sitting beside you. In her seat.

Your hand was grasped on the back of your neck, rubbing it awkwardly as you tried to get the boy in front of you away. You were shrunken against the seat, almost like you would rather the chair swallowed you whole than being in this position and hoping that Natasha would have come sooner. Because then he wouldn’t be in her seat.

He looked about your age, and from what you had heard from himself as he ranted on, he was in university too. He maybe would have been cute, but you didn’t like people that were full of themselves, and so far all he had talked about was himself, not even letting himself take a breath in between his sentences. Maybe he would have been more attractive if he was a certain redhead assassin, too...

The coffee shop was practically empty anyway, a few people dotted around, some studying, some on dates but there were still plenty empty tables. Natasha knew that you didn’t want him there, and she certainly didn’t. She would be damned if she let this boy ruin the time you guys spent together before your next class.

“Excuse me,” She coughed, arms crossed over her chest and tone clipped when she interrupted the boy. She saw the way you looked up at her, letting out a sigh in relief and letting a smile cross your face but the boy didn’t seem as pleased. He rolled his eyes, glaring up at the assassin.

“What?”

“That’s my seat,” Natasha stated bluntly, arching her eyebrow at the way the boy was talking to her. She would be damned if she let a little boy talk to her like that, especially one that was hitting on you.

He let out a short laugh, pretending to look around the seat before he looked back up at the older woman, “Don’t see your name on it, sweetheart. Plus, me and this lovely lady are having a great conversation here so if you could hop along that’d be great.”

His sarcasm definitely wasn’t welcomed by Natasha and you knew that, letting out an involuntary wince as he started to try and get Natasha riled up. However, Natasha kept her cool a lot better, at least she didn’t snap the boy’s neck, that was a plus.

She cocked her head to the side, sending the boy a sarcastic sweet smile, “Might not have my name on it, kid, but my girlfriend was keeping it for me before you stole it.”

It took him a few moments before his mouth fell open, letting out a stutter of shock before looking over at you. You, awkwardly, watched the two of them and seen the smirk that rose to Natasha’s lips as he looked over at you, “Y-You? Her?”

You nodded with a smile, tucking hair behind your head as he watched the two of you. Natasha, rolling her eyes, continued to speak, “Kid, get out my seat.”

He didn’t waste much time before he jumped up, shaking his head and grabbing his jacket. Instead of sitting at another table, or ordering something, he simply walked out of the coffee shop. His gaze was on his shoes, maybe trying to hide the blush on his cheeks either from the embarrassment that he was trying to chat up someone who had a girlfriend or in rejection. Probably both.

Natasha slid in beside you, taking you into a hug; one that not many people got to experience. You both held smiles on your face, glad to see each other and get to talk to one another in real life and not over the phone. It had been over a week since you guys had gotten to do that, so you both missed each other a lot more than you’d say.

“So girlfriend, huh?”

Natasha simply hummed into your neck in reply, making you let out a small giggle in reply, playing with the ends of her hair fondly. Even if you guys weren’t officially dating, everyone knew that neither of you would be against it.

You were just waiting for the day that Natasha would ask.

#natasha romanoff #Natasha Romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff x female!reader #Natasha romanoff x y/n

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spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

Date Night • The Marauders

(Gif not mine)

Request: Maybe like a poly!marauders x (she/her) reader where they just spend a day together :) like you can write smut If you’d like, but yea maybe they can go out to eat id like to see a dynamic in a poly relationship w them. Thank you!! Love your writing <3 — anon

Summary: Date nights are rare, but tonight, you go out for ice cream with your partners

Warnings: Food and eating!! The entire fic is about eating, so please stay safe! If you have a peanut allergy no you don’t. Also, if you’re lactose intolerant like me, uhhhh pretend there’s a potion for that I guess, kinda implied first Wizarding war, smallest hint of steaminess

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Remus=Ross, James=Chandler, Sirius=Joey, right? This took me like weeks to finish...but overall I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, and love you all ❤️

****

The four of you very rarely had free time.

Between missions and meetings, you and your partners almost never had time off, and even when you did, one of you would still be busy. One of you would still be undercover or stuck debriefing the latest mission with Mad-Eye for hours.

So it’s weird to find yourself situated on the couch, Sirius’ head resting on your lap and Remus on the other end, stuck with his feet. James shuffles around in the kitchen behind you, stuck with dish duty after almost setting your flat on fire.

Sirius snuggles deeper into your thigh, evidently still exhausted from the previous day’s mission he was tasked with.

The flat is mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from Remus turning the pages of his novel and the ceramic plates clashing together as they get put away. The sun slowly sets outside, basking your living room in glowing orange in light.

You run your fingers through the mess of dark curls splayed out on your lap, always lustrous and soft to the touch. He hums deeply in approval.

A sharp clap from behind jolts you out of your peaceful thoughts.

You crane your neck to watch as James throws on his denim jacket.

“I believe that we,” He starts, eyeing the three of you. “deserve a date night.”

Instantly, a smile grows across your face. The last time the four of you had a proper date night, it was 1979 and Queen had just released a new song, which meant that Sirius needed to celebrate with all of you at the pub getting absolutely pissed.

Since you all joined the Order, all your free time has been sucked down the drain.

So that’s why the mere suggestion of the normally elusive date night makes you feel all giddy inside. You would’ve gotten up from your comfortable position to throw your coat on if it wasn’t for Sirius practically securing you to the cushions.

“But James...” He groans.

“Oh c’mon, Pads, we haven’t been on a proper date since—“

“Last year.” Remus interjects, shutting his book before placing it onto the coffee table. “But then again, you were too drunk for it to actually be considered a date.”

“Don’t blame me, blame Freddie and his Merlin given voice.” Sirius muses, still laying on your thigh. His fingers dance around your kneecap.

Remus slowly eases himself off the couch, joining James by the front door.

“Fine.” You hear James shrug. “We’ll just leave you here to suffer while Remus, (Y/n), and I go out to Florean’s.”

This seems to grab his attention, because he perks up just enough for you to slide out of his grasp.

You end up at Remus’s side, clinging to his grey jumper as you excitedly pull on your shoes.

“Ice cream?” Sirius asks, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Without me?”

“It doesn’t have to be without you, Sirius.” You retort, sandwiched between James and Remus. “If you get your arse over here, we won’t have to leave you.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sirius huffs, hands raised in mock surrender, dragging himself over to the front door.

He waves his wand, boots zipping out of the closet and slipping onto his feet, his dark leather jacket covering his white shirt on its own.

“What, are simple tasks too hard for you now?” Remus teases, lightly bumping his shoulder into Sirius’.

“We’ve got magic for a reason, Moons.” The shorter of the two rolls his eyes. “Might as well use it.”

Remus opens his mouth to retort but James swiftly interrupts their bickering.

“I swear to Godric Gryffindor himself, (Y/n) and I will leave both you gits here.”

There’s grumbling from the two of them, but it becomes garbled once James throws an arm around you and Apparates you to Diagon Alley.

Your brain feels like it’s spinning in your skull and your stomach tugs familiarly at your naval. Sure you’ve Apparated many many times before, but it’s simply not fun no matter what.

As per usual, Diagon Alley is loud. Children and drunkards laugh, spells and fireworks whizz passed your ears, people in heels trot across the cobblestone path.

It’s places like Diagon Alley that remind you why you love magic so much.

James’ arm is still heavy on your shoulders as you watch people in cloaks and tall hats rush by you.

There’s a startling crack behind you and you and James turn around to see your other partners. Sirius might have a few new purple bruises littered across his collar bones and Remus might have a smug look plastered across his face, but no one says anything. Remus throws the two of you a silent wink as Sirius hangs off of him.

“Gonna hold my hand, Moony?” James questions, his arm outstretched.

Remus eagerly takes it, fingers interlocking.

So the four of you are connected as you stroll down the street. Your face is buried into James’ denim jacket, the faint smell of grass stains and broom oil an already welcomed scent. In the middle, James and Remus have their shoulders rubbing together as they walk, James’ thumb most likely tracing figure eights between his knuckles like he always does. Lastly, it seems like Sirius had changed his position enough to stick a hand in Remus’ back pocket.

The sun continues to dip lower below the horizon, resulting in candles and lanterns being lit in every dark corner. Children are ushered inside homes and adults start to flock towards the pubs.

With the looming threat of dark and dangerous wizards, people aren’t taking their chances, safety in numbers and safety indoors being popular within the village.

Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor is lit up in a rainbow of colors as always, and the sweet scent of ice cream drifts through the air. People sit in crowds outside the shop, enjoying their treats on the sidewalk or some even spread out on the street.

“So what’re you going for today, Jamie?” You ask as your little group enters the shop.

A little bell sounds from above you, barely heard over the boisterous laughter and rowdy conversations that surround you.

Unlike you, Sirius, and Remus, James doesn’t have a signature flavor. He had to have a different kind every visit. So while Remus had already ordered his strawberries and cream in a waffle cone and Sirius is eyeing his peanut butter ice cream, James is still perusing his options like a little kid.

Your own ice cream starts to melt a bit while you’re waiting.

James squints his eyes at the names, despite his glasses already resting on the bridge of his nose.

“You haven’t done toffee apple in a bit, Prongs.” Sirius points, his finger making contact with the cool glass barrier.

“You’re right.” James hums. “Thanks.” He presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ stubbled cheek before ordering his ice cream.

There’s a small open table across the way, lit up by a few lanterns, which the four of you claim.

There’s a very slight breeze that makes you cuddle up to Remus’ soft jumper.

Desperate to talk about something other than the current state of affairs, James gets caught up talking the Wimbourne Wasps and their new Beater, Ludovic Bagman.

You watch Sirius, tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth, try to sneak a scoop of James’ ice cream while he’s distracted.

Attempting to hide your amusement, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth, feigning interest in the Quidditch talk.

You watch the spoon make an indent and it’s halfway to Sirius’ mouth before—

“Oi!”

The silver spoon freezes abruptly, and grey eyes widen significantly.

“Is that why you suggested toffee apple? So you could nick some of my bloody ice cream?” James gasps dramatically, mouth agape in shock.

“Where’re your manners, James?” Sirius retorts, licking his spoon. “Sharing is caring.”

His hazel eyes narrow. “I don’t know, Black, that looked more like thievery to me.”

“Well let’s take it to our very own Wizengamot, then.” Sirius loudly gestures to you and Remus.

“Well I’m sure that for a wee bit of ice cream, (Y/n) and I, as key witnesses to the whole event, can clear the air.” Remus smirks, biting into his cone.

Sirius swiftly pushes the rest of his ice cream across the table, not even trying to be discrete about his offering. You and Remus start to dig in.

“Bribery!” James shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “This trial is a load of bullshit!”

“Sorry James, can’t hear you over how good this is.” Remus remarks with his mouth full.

You lick your spoon, watching the theatrics.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” James straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair in playful frustration.

“Aw, Jamie...you want some of mine?” You pout, offering some of your own frozen dessert.

“At least someone at this table loves me.” James grumbles, sticking a spoon into your bowl.

Sirius sticks his tongue out.

“Hey, I never said Sirius was cleared of all charges.” Remus raises a scarred brow.

“What?” Sirius snaps. “But I bribed you!”

You snicker at his balled up fists.

“So you admit to the bribery, you might as well admit to the thievery while you’re at it.” He finishes the bowl, licking the last of it from his spoon.

“Oh how the tables have turned.” James smugly points out.

Sirius childishly pouts, opting to pick at his black painted fingernails.

“We should have date nights more often.” James chuckles, clinking your spoons together.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

#the marauders x reader #the marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders fanfiction #James potter fluff #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #james potter imagine #sirius black imagine #remus lupin imagine #tw food #tw food mention

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