#anyway i was thinking about the dogs that raised me today at work and got a little sad. they're all long gone now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doberbutts · 10 months

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Anyway yes, people who can X should be accomodating to people who can't X. People who can walk should accomodate people who can't. People who can hear should accomodate people who can't. People who can see should accomodate people who can't. And on and on. When that doesn't happen, it's a problem that deserves to be talked about.

But the problem is not and has never been "physical disabilities are more important and deserve more accomodations than mental disabilities"- nor the other way around either.

People love to dunk on folks with ADD/ADHD but you know? As someone with ADD raised by diabetic parents I gotta say there's a lot of similarities here. People with ADD, myself included, often forget to eat and when they do eat they often load themselves up with carbs and sugars because those foods make their brains feel good. People with diabetes have to closely monitor their meals and often crave sugars and need a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand. This is not to say ADD and diabetes are exact one-to-one disabilities.

But having grown up watching my parents manage their diabetes, I too am very aware of meal times and blood sugar and constructing meals that will tide you over and having a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand Just In Case. I am able to manage my ADD better in this way because I have experience from watching my parents. I also need access to snacks and to be able to say to my boss "I need to go eat something real fast" without being punished.

I had a training client who was the image of "able bodied mentally ill" outside of the usual creaks and squeaks associated with age, her body worked just fine. But after a series of incidents in her youth- a car accident that left her with a serious brain injury, coming home from the hospital afterwards to immediately have her house broken into and herself raped by an intruder, and assorted medical malpractice while she was healing from both- she has a serious and extreme case of agoraphobia and spent the next 40 years completely unable to leave the house. She would hide and wail and scream when deliveries of groceries and other goods would come, because it meant a stranger (and usually a man) would be at her door. She could not go more than a couple steps outside to get her mail and especially not if other people were outside.

At some point her therapist suggested getting a pet, one that *had* to go outside, to help her. So she got a dog and contacted a trainer (me) and we got to work. And she did improve! The dog has been a huge help to managing her symptoms! But you cannot seriously expect me to have worked with this woman for years and then belittle mental illnesses as being lesser when this woman also shares the inability to even leave her house let alone go inside a grocery store. Even today there are times when she simply cannot, she cannot will her body to move out of her door and into transportation let alone into the building.

When she first started coming to me she thanked me for not belittling her or making her feel bad for classes she had to cancel because she couldn't force herself to take the first step over the threshold. That is when she told me what happened to her and that while it sounds terrible she was really happy to have found a trainer who knew something personal about trauma and brain injuries. She is also a case where I feel her ESA should be considered service dog not because of training or tasking but because her need is so high and she is just completely incapable of doing anything without the dog in her arms.

Anyway I think of her any time someone says "but you can walk through the door". There's nothing wrong with her legs so in theory sure she could. But often she *can't*, not because of anything physical, but because she is very severely mentally ill.

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cherryredcheol · 4 months

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"angel"

tldr: all the way mingyu uses the petname he calls you.

a/n: this is my first fic ever, please be kind.

coos: when he’s trying to get what he wants.

“angel” he looks at you from across the store. you turn your head and wish you hadn’t. As soon as you catch those eyes, you know its over for you. You don’t even know what he wants and you’re already prepared to do anything to give it to him.

“wear these matching outfits with me?” he asks with the biggest grin on his face. you laugh, immediately nodding along to his idea, knowing how happy it would make him.

“i can take cute pictures of us and set it as my wallpaper on my phone,” he rambles on, browsing the rack for your size in the unisex shirt he just had to have with you, “...been needing a new one.”

groans: when you get up to leave.

“annnnngeeeel” you hear from deep within the sheets. you thought he was asleep, that's why you pecked him so lightly on the cheek before pulling the covers off yourself. you did not expect his gruff voice to hit you so early in the morning. you actually were not expecting to hear it at all today since you had to be at work early.

“stay a few more minutes. take a shorter shower, do less skincare, just stay in bed,” he begged. how could you say no to him? so you concede. tucking yourself back into the bed. he takes this moment to pull you in tight.

“mmmm,” he hums. you feel the vibration in your back, where his warm chest was practically enmeshed in you. “sorry about your skin care in advance”

yells: when he needs your attention right this second.

“angel!” he shouts when he looks up and you weren’t watching him like you promised you would be. The practice room was echoey so it was louder than he intended but it got your attention. You turned away from Seungcheol, brow raised, holding a finger up politely to pause the conversation you were engaged in.

“you missed my move!” he pouted, stomping his feet very dramatically as he huffed across the room to you. you looked at him ready to apologize and ask him to show you again in a second when his hand wrapped around your wrist.

“come on,” he said with a little determined frown, brows creasing. he leads you directly to the mirrored wall up front. “sit right here and watch me kill this. you’ll be so proud i finally got this down.”

moans: when you’re behind him.

“angel” his eyes flutter shut as he feels your soft lips press behind his ear. your arms were wrapped around his waist just so and he could smell your perfume, making his head spin.

“should we go home?” he felt you nod against his back and he smiled. he knew what this meant when you were needy like this. he knew his night was far from over and he was happy to leave this stuffy party anyway. his shiny new shoes pinching his toes in a way that was starting to become uncomfortable.

“hey guys?” he said catching wonwoo and jun’s attention. “i think we’re going to head out” he turned slightly, showing the guys how you clung to his back, wrinkling the front of your emerald dress. eyes closed contently with a little smile on your face. “see you later.”

sings: when he gets home.

“angeeeellllll” his voice carries across the apartment as he flings the door open, expecting you to be right there with a little smile on your face, waiting for him. what he saw instead was nothing. a dark apartment. upon further inspection, he saw a faint light coming from the living room.

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself, turning on the lamp next to the couch. he was secretly hoping to wake you up so he could spend time with you. it had been a long week away from you in Japan and he missed you. the night was still young, it was practically still dinner time.

“well, well, well…” he said, hands on hips when you opened your eyes. he smiled when his plan worked. “wake up you lazy bones. it’s time to hang out with me” but when you turned on your puppy dog eyes and reached up for him, who was he to refuse a cuddle on the couch? he guessed you could hang out in the morning.

#seventeen fluff #mingyu imagine #mingyu #svt #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenario #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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darylsdelts · 1 month

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Hi, how are you?? Would it be alright to request a drabble where Daryl and his partner keep trying to have some alone time between their jobs in the Commonwealth but keep getting interrupted by Judith, RJ and Dog? And when things get hot and heavy at night, one of the kids has a nightmare and wants to sleep in their bed?

Thank you and take care lovely <3

DarylxFem!Reader

warnings: p in v, poorly written smut.

this is something I think about a lot, tysm for the request!!

You’d settled into the commonwealth now. In the beginning, it was difficult, you had grown so accustomed to hilltop and being surrounded by people you already knew, and most of all, you were used to being with Daryl all the time.

Things were different now, Daryl had some big important job that didn’t leave him much alone time, he was surrounded by dumbasses all the time and if you knew Daryl then you knew how much he struggled to push through the days sometimes.

You’re job wasn’t as big as Daryl’s but it was important to you because it helped you feel like part of the community. You worked in the ice cream truck and you loved it, it wasn’t a demanding job, it was simply just scooping ice cream and seeing the smiles on the kids faces when you handed it to them. Daryl had described it as ‘the perfect job for you’. He knew you were capable of so much more but he also knew that his girl deserved a break and he’d be damned if he took your little ice cream job away from you, there was no need to overexert yourself now you were here, so he was just glad you were enjoying yourself, even if he didn’t particularly have the best time at his own job.

You were the one to pick the kids up from school whilst Daryl was the one who ushered the two Grimes’ to get ready quickly in the mornings, since he had to get up early anyways. Daryl rarely got any days off and it was showing, he was becoming short with people, not being hurtful or rude but he was just exhausted and quite frankly just wanted to sleep as soon as he got home which left very little time for the two of you but you understood.

One morning, you woke up from Daryl planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Opening your eyes and staring at him, you were confused. He wasn’t in his gear or in his black attire, he was just wearing his worn black jeans and button down with his leather vest.

“Mornin’, darlin’” he swiped some hair off your face.

Your eyebrows furrow, “why aren’t you- why are you still here?”

Daryl scoffed with a smirk.

“Ouch…” he chuckles, “ain’t got work today, gotta day off to spend wit’ ya”

Instantly, a grin took over your face, reaching your arms out to your partner which he gladly took in his calloused hands and pulled you to sit upright.

“Want ya to get ready… gon’ be just me n you today, okay?”.

God, you love him so much!

“Okay…” you reply with a soft giggle.

Halfway through your shower, you feel a sudden surge of panic.

You rush out of the bathroom to find Daryl sat at the small table in the kitchen area.

“Daryl! Where are the kids?! It’s the weekend!”

Daryl looks up at you and nearly chokes on the water in his mouth when he sees you stood stark naked.

Then he stifles laughter.

“Christ girl… they’re with Carol. Ya really think id just lose em?” He raises his eyebrows and can’t help his eyes from darting between your chest and your face.

“Get back in the damn shower, been in there long enough anyways… hurry up”.

Ten minutes later, you’re dressed and ready to go… wherever Daryl plans on taking you.

Just as you leave the apartment complex, Daryl almost bumps straight into Carol, who was coming the opposite way with RJ in tow, looking teary-eyed.

“Daryl… I’m sorry, I know you had… plans, but RJ’s not feeling so hot and he just keeps asking for you”.

As RJ lets go of Carol’s hand and quickly latches on to Daryl’s, you can hear Daryl sigh.

“Nah… s’alrigh’… thanks Carol”, Daryl ruffles RJ’s hair and then turns back towards the apartment complex, walking in without another word.

Lord knows he’s pissed off, not at RJ, but just at the world but… what’s new?

Once inside, you tell Daryl to go sit down whilst you deal with RJ, tucking him in and giving him some medicine. After he’s all snuggled, you tell him to shout if he needs anything and then you shut the door, making your way to Daryl.

He’s sat in the same chair as earlier, he looks up at you as you stand beside him.

Cupping his face, you lean down to kiss his cheek, “its okay, we can still spend time together inside…”

Daryl forces a smile and nods, you’re always the positive one and he loves you for that but he wanted to do something nice with you today.

You spend the rest of the day taking care of RJ and playing a real old, shitty board game with Daryl (who doesn’t play by the rules) until Judith came home from being Carol’s care all day.

You and Daryl do your job as make shift parents, getting the kids to bed and then the two of you go to bed together. Daryl holds you protectively against his chest and you can sense he’s upset with how the day panned out. And, just to top it off, dog decided to bark at a bird through the window at one AM, causing the entire family to wake up. You offer to be the one to get up, close the damn curtains and get the kids settled again but Daryl being Daryl, is stubborn as hell.

“Shhh... Just go back to sleep, I got it”

You groan inwardly, knowing that your man will be grouchy the next morning.

And boy were you right.

Not being able to treat you to a nice day was pissing Daryl off to high heavens, but that mixed with three hours sleep after having to get two children back to sleep and a dog to stop barking, was a recipe for disaster.

Your man was running himself into the ground and you knew that if you didn’t do something soon, he’d get overwhelmed and most likely have some sort of mental break down. There’s only so much the great loverboy Daryl Dixon can take!

A few days later, you’d managed to work your magic.

Daryl had the afternoon off and the kids both had sleepovers to attend.

And so did you and Daryl.

Daryl got off from work at two, bursting through the door and practically ripping his gear off. He was stressed.

As soon as he sees you, he walks over to you but just stands in front of you, no advances.

As you look over his face, you notice he looks about ready to cry, so you squeeze his biceps then rub his shoulders, reaching up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

His strong hands wrap around your waist and pull you closer, deepening the kiss. He starts to guide you backwards until the back of your knees hit the mattress and your fall onto your back.

Daryl practically growls, he’s HUNGRY and it visible in his eyes.

He lifts you to the centre of the mattress, leaning over you and kissing at your neck, sucking and nibbling as you emit desperate whimpers, you’re both just as needy as each other.

Daryl wants to kiss every part of you but he’s already painfully hard in the confines of his trousers and he’s so fucking pent up he’s afraid that if he keeps up the foreplay, he won’t last much longer.

Standing on his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down swiftly, along with his boxers, his impressive length springing free, his tip producing a fat bead of precum.

“Bend over.” Is all he says.

You do as you’re told, of course, getting onto your hands and knees, arching your back and pushing your ass out for your man.

Grabbing the skirt of your dress, he pushes it up to your shoulder blades, making sure its out the way.

He spreads your soft ass cheeks with his calloused hands, running his thumb over the wet spot on your panties.

“Such a good, fucking girl fer me, aint ya?”

You whine as a reply and then he’s pulling your panties to the side, running his thumb through your wet slit then stopping to massage at your clit.

“Please…”, you whimper out.

His hand leaves your pussy, gripping at the base of his cock and guiding it to your folds, pushing in without another warning.

“Fu-uuck… so fucking tight y/n…”

Daryl holds your hips in a grip like a vice, pounding into you from behind whilst he grunts with each thrust. He leans down to kiss your back, his hands leaving your hips to slide up the front of your dress, squeeing your tits.

Daryl’s grunts turn into whimpers as he gets close, but then you both hear the front door open, followed my a chirp voice.

“Uncle Daryl, Aunt y/n…?” Judith’s steps can be heard coming towards the bedroom as she searches for the both of you.

“Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me”, Daryl quickly pulls out, throwing a blanket over you and then roughly pulling up his pants.

“Aye, Jude just- just wait out there, kid!”

So she does, and when Daryl exits the room he’s met with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

“Don’t gimme that, ya ain’t s’posed to be ‘ere”

“I had a nightmare… I wanted to come home”

Daryl expression softens.

“Ya walked back here by yerself, in the dark?”

Judith nods, clearly a little shaken. “Can I sleep in your guys’ bed? Please?”

Daryl sighs but ultimately gives in, making sure you’re decent before leading Jude in.

Daryl was not happy that Judith had walked home by herself in the dark, not telling the adults she was with, but he was less happy about the fact he left you hanging.

But that would have to be solved another time, now Daryl had lost all horniness… almost being walked in on by your ‘kid’ does that to a man, specially when the plant themselves right in the middle of you and your girl.

Judith fell asleep pretty fast between the two of you.

You reached across the sleeping child to squeeze Daryl’s hand, whispering a meaningful “I love you”.

Sure, Daryl was a little down that he couldn’t love on his girl like he wanted to but boy was he lucky, and he was smart enough to see that. He was grateful for his little family, so he returned the gesture.

“Love ya too, baby”

“Ssssshhh!”

You and Daryl scoffed at Judith’s demand, but followed suit, falling asleep eventually.

God this felt so rushed! Alsooooo I struggle so much with tense so I’m sorry about that lmfao.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #twd smut

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wannabespacesmuggler · 5 months

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D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Four | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1K

Author’s Note: Had a spurt of creative energy after work today and wrote this bad boy. I wanted to post it before I head off to bed. It isn't edited, might get around to that tomorrow. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

A cigarette hangs from Daryl’s lips as he watches you attempt to start a fire. He sits at a table set up beside Dale’s RV, his legs kicked up on an extra folding chair. His fingers absentmindedly peel at the worn edge of his Marlboro Reds container. You mutter another string of expletives before chucking a piece of firewood into the surrounding woods. This causes Daryl to let out a short chuckle, which earns a glare from you.

The youngest Dixon has made a point of being more present around the camp since his almost altercation with Shane -- much to your boyfriend’s dismay. For the last several days, Daryl has made it his mission to keep a careful eye on you -- lingering wherever you happen to be and watching over you, like a loyal guard dog. Despite that, Daryl has also tried his best to not be overbearing. And if you ever told him to back off, he’d obey your wishes. You don’t mind though. Unlike Shane, Daryl’s presence isn't overwhelming and dominant. Daryl simply observes from the background -- he makes you feel safe.

“You’re welcome to help at any point, Dixon.”

Daryl puts out his cigarette on the heel of his boot before getting up from the table. He slings his crossbow around his torso and moves toward you. You sit back on your heels as Daryl approaches, wiping your hands off on your jeans. He drops down beside you and assesses your work.

“You almost got it. Jus’ need more tinder -- without it the kindling won’t light.”

You watch as Daryl grabs a handful of leaves from the ground and places it under the bunch of twigs you’d collected. He offers you a box of matches from his back pocket.

“Now give ‘er a try.”

You light a match and ignite the tinder. Unlike, your previous attempts, the kindling begins to light as well, creating a small fire. A smile spreads across your face and Daryl has to fight one off himself as he watches you giddily add more tinder to the growing fire. Before you can add any of the larger logs, Daryl leans down and gently blows on the fire. He gives you a nod when he’s content and you add a couple of larger logs. You both sit back against a fallen log, watching the flames. Daryl reaches into his pocket and pulls out his carton of Marlboros. He slips a cigarette between his lips before extending the carton out to you.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

Daryl scoffs at your question as he lights his cigarette. He takes a drag and meets your gaze. You’re smiling at him, but your tone was surprisingly serious. He wonders if your concern for his well-being is sincere. You don’t know him. Not really. Then again, he doesn’t know you either, but here he is -- watching over you. He takes another drag of his cigarette before responding.

“Seems like everything’ll kill me these days.”

You chuckle softly, shrugging your shoulders at his comment.

“I can’t argue with that.”

You reach your hand out to Daryl, motioning toward the carton. He raises a brow but hands you a cigarette. Daryl watches you light it and take a drag. You tilt your head, glancing up at him with the cigarette hanging gracefully from your lips. He shouldn’t find it attractive. He shouldn’t be looking at you. As much as he dislikes it, you’re Shane’s girl.

But god damn.

He always knew the cowboy killers would take him out one day -- just not like this.

“You’re a bad influence, Dixon.”

Daryl awkwardly laughs and softly shakes his head, trying to remove the thoughts from his head. You don’t know how right you are.

Before he does something he regrets, he focuses his attention on the fire in front of him and the cigarette in his hand. You don’t attempt to start another conversation. The two of you sit beside the fire, finishing your smokes as the sun sets behind the trees. It’s peaceful. He usually prefers to spend his time alone; however, this isn't so bad.

Eventually, the peace is disrupted by Shane’s heavy footsteps. He doesn’t say a word as he passes by the fire, but you feel his eyes on you the entire time. You take a final drag of your cigarette, before turning to Daryl.

“I gotta…”

You trail off, pointing in the direction that Shane had just stomped off towards. Daryl gives you a nod, letting you leave without another word. You’re not going to lie, you’d rather sit here with Daryl than de-escalate your jealous boyfriend; however, you know talking to Shane is the right thing to do. Things have been tense since he saw you with Daryl several days ago and you’re doing everything possible to fix the situation.

As you open your tent and take in your surroundings. Shane is sitting on the edge of your shared cot, facing away from you. He glances back at you before pulling on a clean t-shirt. You kneel behind him on the cot and wrap your arms around his waist. Shane lets out a deep sigh at the contact.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’ve been busy.”

You nod hum into his shoulder and then stay quiet. You sit in silence for several moments, giving him an opportunity to talk about his day; however, he doesn’t say a word.

“Shane?”

“I told you I didn’t want you anywhere near him.”

You let go of his waist, sitting back further away from him on the cot.

“I know. It’s just…”

Before you can finish, Shane turns to face you. His eyes are ice cold. His jaw clenches as he looks at you. It makes you stop in your tracks. You’re starting to think that maybe you can’t fix this, but you’re still going to try.

“I’m sorry.”

Shane holds your gaze for a few more seconds before wordlessly laying down on the cot, with his back facing you. You let out a soft sigh and settle down next to him. And as you lay there, you begin to drift off wishing that you never got up from the fire.

Taglist: @darylsl0ver@minervadashwood@hotgirlsshareaccounts@taterbbbug@dreamtofus@youcantstandit@ajlovesdilfs@prettywhenibleed@luvsvnlqt-things@evie-beanie@strnqer@marina-isabella@lissanovak@elissanatok@1tsk1tty@moejoeflow@ceoofdisappointment@jewellthebooknerd@callsignwidow@genderless-ghosty-boi @all-will-be-well-love @tabzthemighty

#twd #walking dead #The Walking Dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead imagine #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #walking dead imagine #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus

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wolfiesmoon · 5 months

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The wrong guy

teacher!Nanami x teacher!reader

so i started watching the kdrama "a good day to be a dog" recently and the ml makes me think of nanami so much it's not even funny. this fic is based on the plot!!

Warnings: drinking (but its wholesome dw), gojo

It's been about 5 months since your last breakup. You didn't really care for that ex, if you're honest. He immediately dumped you after you told him that kissing is off the table.

You could say that you are a bit unlucky when it comes to relationships and that's mostly because of that dastardly curse.

For as long as you can remember, your mom has been warning you to never ever let someone kiss you and to never kiss anyone, ever.

Otherwise you would end up like your cousin, doomed to live as a dog for the rest of his now shortened life.

It's his fault he got drunk and kissed a random girl, couldn't track her down in 100 days and didn't break the curse. But it was a pretty scary reminder of your family's curse.

Life moves on without waiting for you and there's no time to worry about your unfortunate love life in this society.

Today is another completely normal day at work. You walk to the school, greeting students along the way. The kids look awfully excited to go to school when it isn't exam season.

Youth must be fun. Especially sneaking around with your high school sweetheart.

While walking to your classroom, you run into your favourite co-worker, Gojo Satoru.

"Good morning!" He greets you smoothly, flashing you that perfect smile of his. You greet him back, always excited to see him.

"Are you free tonight? Because me and some other teachers are going drinking. Wanna come?" He asked you, and you nodded immediately. Of course you're going drinking with Gojo (and company). You could never refuse!

"Great! I'll send you the adress!" He waved you bye with a cheeky smile, going in his classroom to do homeroom.

Oh, right, you should probably be getting to that too. You can't set a bad example for your class by being late to homeroom.

You walk past the classroom where Nanami teaches and you have no idea why, but you stopped in your tracks to look at him a little.

You're not sure why, but he doesn't seem to like you at all. He always seems a bit distant and uncomfortable around you.

It kind of makes you sad. And it doesn't help at all that you constantly have to read notes about how hot he is after you confiscate them from your students.

What is up with this school and attractive teachers, anyways? Your students just barely got over Gojo and now they're thirsting over Nanami. Not that you can blame them.

You continue on, opening the door to your classroom. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, teacher!" The students shout back.

When you get to the meeting spot, Shoko is already waiting there. She greets you calmly.

"Hi. Uhhh..." you don't know where to go from here. It's kind of awkward just standing around and waiting for the others to arrive.

"You like Satoru, don't you?" Shoko asks suddenly, smiling at you.

"Huh?! How did you know?!"

"It's... obvious. But today's your chance. He's in a good mood when he gets drunk, you could attempt something." Shoko raised her brows.

Well, there isn't much to attempt if you can't kiss. Will a kiss-less confession work?

"Hello~" Gojo interrupted you just as you were about to answer Shoko and you jumped a little in surprise.

Nanami was standing next to him. Oh, so he invited him, too... You have a feeling this is going to get a little awkward.

While the lot of you headed to the bar, Shoko walked next to Gojo, talking to him about various things you didn't really care about.

That meant you were walking next to Nanami... in painfully awkward silence. Yikes.

"How was your day?" You asked with a painfully forced smile.

"It was fine." He answered simply, not even trying to continue the conversation. Right, you should just be quiet.

There's no use in getting buddy buddy with Nanami.

"Let's dig in!" Gojo grabbed the meat happily while Shoko and Nanami both immediately grabbed the bottle.

Eager to drink, aren't they...

Shoko nudged you gently. "Just wait till he gets drunk and then go in for the kiss. He likes them bold." She whispered.

You smiled and nodded awkwardly, unable to tell her why that's impossible for you.

You had loads of fun from there on out and all of you got atleast a little drunk. Turns out Shoko is more of a party animal than she lets on. Maybe you were wrong, this little get-together isn't awkward at all!

"I need some air, excuse me." Nanami bowed slightly, getting up and walking outside. Still as monotone and polite as ever when drunk, you suppose.

After about 10 minutes, Gojo's phone rang and he drunkenly excused himself to answer the call. If you weren't drunk as hell too, you would be worried about how the call will go. I mean, I doubt a professional call can go well when the other person keeps giggling and talking nonsense.

"Just goooo for itttt~" Shoko encouraged you after Gojo left your fields of vision, drunk out of her mind. To be fair, you weren't any less drunk right now, so you weren't thinking straight at all. You got up and ran off after Gojo. Who cares about a stupid phone call, you've got a man to kiss!

And there he is, on the corner behind the bar! You'd recognise that greyish blue jacket from a mile away! You cling onto him, giggling happily and he seems to call out to you.

"I love youuuu...." you slurred out, squinting your eyes at his face. Man, it's hard to see his face in the dark and with blurry vision to boot. No matter, you still know the general area of the lips.

"I wanna date youuuu.... and you should be my boyfriendddd..." you grabbed his cheeks and faintly heard his voice again. You can't make out anything he's saying right now. It's like a weird trance that your drunken determination put you in.

You pressed your lips to his, sighing. It's a weird feeling for sure, but not all that bad! Ahhh, this all feels like a dream! After a long long time, you finally got to kiss someone. And it's Gojo Satoru no less!

"What the f.... Nanamin?!"

Wait.

A shiver ran all the way from your toes to the top of your head. You looked at the direction of the voice. It's.... Gojo?! That's definitely Gojo, standing to your right and looking really surprised. But, then...

You looked back at the person who's cheeks you're currently holding to find... brown eyes staring at you. No way.

Now that you think about it, both Gojo and Nanami are wearing a greyish blue jacket. Oh no... Oh no no no no.

You sobered up almost instantly which was an out of body experience, one that you've never experienced before. Not only did you kiss the wrong guy in your drunken state, the curse also completely slipped your mind. Is it almost midnight already?! How are you going to explain this tommorow?! Why did it have to be Nanami?!

There's no time to panic, you have to get OUT OF HERE. STAT.

"I am so so so sorry!" you gently push Nanami away, running off and accidentally pushing Gojo slightly which made him stumble.

"Wait, why are you leaving already?!" Gojo called out after you but you ignored him. You have to get home to your family. Then you're safe. All you have to do is make it there before midnight or you'll turn into a dog.

Oh jeez... this innocent night which was supposed to go your way ended up becoming a nightmare.

Now you have to get Nanami of all people to kiss you while you're a freaking dog.

Still, kissing him didn't feel all that bad...

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milflewis · 6 days

Note

ok but mob au

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on.

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

#listen. i entertain myself #sewis #yukierre #makkinen #five head cannon ask game #kyle tag #niamh.asks

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literatecowboy · 3 months

Text

Love, Peace, and Cows

Author’s Notes: Happy (soon to be) Valentine’s Day @ontheoddoccasioniwritestufff! This is my submission for the Valentine’s Day event hosted by the lovely @bunnyreaperer - thank you so much for putting this together! Don’t forget about all of the candy discounts tomorrow y’all. This piece features a GENDER NEUTRAL reader. Fluff only. No instances of y/n. Synopsis: It’s a lovely day on your little farm whenever John is home.

—

It’s…odd to have John inside in the morning when he’s home. Rarer still that he sits on the couch with the TV on and a mug of tea warming his hands, a blanket over his lap. The sight of it, of him relaxing for once, makes you happy. It’s just a shame that it had taken a broken leg to get him to sit the hell down.

You toed your boots off carefully after you came through the door, doing your best to contain the mud outside. The dog that John had begrudgingly let you adopt and then fallen in love with cared not for keeping the floors clean and bounded inside, tail wagging and eyes bright as he leapt up onto the couch and tried to climb into John’s lap.

“Oh, no, you little bastard!” you giggled, unable to contain your laughter as you watched the dog plaster kisses all over John’s face. He laughed and pushed the dog away playfully before scratching the pup behind his ears.

“Did you track mud in, you naughty thing?” he asked, turning to look up at you as you set the box of freshly collected eggs on the kitchen counter and came into the living room.

“Just a bit, but I was going to mop later anyway. Eggs and toast for breakfast? Got five from the lovely ladies today,” you said, kissing John on the cheek and glancing at what was on the telly.

“Thought I might cook this morning, if you don’t mind. Knee’s been feeling better so I want to be up for a bit, give it a stretch,” he said, pushing the blanket off of his lap as your dog jumped to the floor.

“That sounds lovely, actually. I haven’t finished in the garden yet. I’ll bring a few tomatoes in to go with it,” you said, picking up your glass of water from where it sat and taking a long drink. John grabbed his crutches and hauled himself slowly to his feet. You were quick to help him steady himself and earned a kiss in thanks.

“What do you think about going into town to see a movie later? We haven’t been out that way in a while. We could get dinner, make an evening of it.” John suggested, making his way toward the stove with the box of eggs you’d retrieved from your hens.

“John Price, are you asking me on a date?” you asked with a smile, fetching a pan for him so he wouldn’t have to do it himself.

“I am, actually. Is the venue a little too cliche for you, my love?” he asked, setting the pan on the stove and turning the burner on.

“No, I’m just happy that after all these years we’ve been married that I still get butterflies in my stomach when you ask me out.” you said, wrapping your arms around his torso and hugging him from behind. He took your hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin.

“I love you,” he murmured. You rested your cheek against his back, tracing the fingers of your free hand up his torso.

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

—

The rest of the morning passed as peacefully as you could hope for. John hobbling about the kitchen to make breakfast, your dog running excited laps around the backyard in between barking at birds flying overhead, and the clucking of your hens as they scratched at the dirt in search of bugs all made quite a bit of excitement, and you found solace in your garden.

In order to avoid boredom when John was away for long periods of time at work, you’d taken to caring for the little farm that had sprung up from what had once been a few scattered tomato plants in the yard.

Eventually, with John’s blessing, you had left your job to make it a full-time endeavor. You sold fresh bread and preserves along with produce and eggs and all of the other little productions that had resulted from your farm. It was a small operation, but one popular with the locals, and not a day passed that you didn’t have visitors at the farm stand.

It operated on the honor system for the most part, but on weekends and after school your young niece May would bound over to assist the influx of customers for some pocket money and sweets. She and the dog were beloved by your customers and her parents, who lived in town, were happy to see her spend so much of her childhood outdoors.

John coming home was always an event heralded by your neighbors. The man who lived next door was an elderly world war 2 veteran, and as soon as he saw John’s car in the driveway, he’d invite you over for tea and at the end would always promise to keep you and the farm safe when John was gone. You and John thoroughly enjoyed his company.

—

In the evening after the movies, you pulled back into the driveway. Not ready to end the night yet you sat on the porch swing together, his arm tucked securely around your shoulders. He smoked idly, chewing on the end of his cigar as he studied the horizon.

“You alright, love?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. He nodded.

“Was just thinking, sorry,” he said, running his fingers through your hair and smiling at you. You smiled back and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“About what?” you asked, settling back into his side as he pulled you closer.

“Starting to think about retiring - what life will be like. I…I want to spend more time with you,” he said.

“It’s up to you, John. You do good work, but I won’t lie - having you home more often would be lovely,” you said.

“Was thinking, when I retire and am back here for good - what do you think about expanding the barn a bit? So we might add a few dairy cows to the little zoo you’ve started here?” he asked, gesturing out past the barn and toward the muddy clearing.

“Could make a good paddock back there. I wonder if cows would get along with the goats? I’m sure all of the animals would appreciate more space to roam.” you said, doing your best to picture it in your head.

“Two or three at most - can’t just get one without getting it a friend, though. It was like getting you that pup, couldn’t leave you without a friend,” John said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and elbowed him gently, making him smile.

“Very funny, mister. But yeah, I like that idea quite a bit. You know, May’s been asking for a pony for a little while. Think we’ve got space for one?” you asked teasingly.

“That’s more of a Christmas present, I think. And I think your brother and sister-in-law would kill us,” John said with a laugh.

You settled back into silence together, listening to the chirping bugs and hooting owls as you gazed up at the stars, basking in the love of your husband.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod #mw2 #captain john price x you #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #john price x gn!reader #captain price #captain johnathan price #tf141 #task force 141 #gn reader #call of duty modern warfare

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radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

There is a photo going around with a little anecdote that says something like "my nephew is not allowed to have popsicle and because he does everything I do we have decided to say I wasn't allowed to eat any either. But today he guided me in the bathroom and gave me one and said : "now we can have popsicle together :)" Or something similar

I want to think it happened to Spencer at some point with one of his godsons (or does he only have one ? I don't remember) He would feel SO guilty but wouldn't be able to resist the cute face and just eat in secret

And when they get caught, because I mean, there is profilers everywhere, he would respond to the questions with "But he wanted to share !!! :(" alongside with statistics showing that kids that shares at an early age are more empathic in their adulthood or have bonding moments with adults other than the parents make them more emotionaly stable or whatever (made up here, out man is smart enough to know actual studies)

Anyway, I thought of it and made me smile so I wanted to share the happy image ♥️

omg i've seen this and it's so cute. i just had to write it

"Uncle Spencer, I have something to show you," Henry announces, walking into JJ and Will's lounge, where you're sitting with your finacé while JJ gets a bottle of wine to start the night and Will puts baby Michael down.

You pull your legs off his lap, and Spencer frowns a little at you before following Henry out.

"What's up, buddy?" Spencer asks as they walk down the hallway. Henry opens the bathroom door. "What's in the bathroom?"

"You know how mommy said you're not allowed to have popsicles?" Henry asks, shutting the door behind them like it's top secret.

Spencer does remember the white lie he had to tell to avoid Henry begging for one before dinner. JJ's thinking behind the request was that if Spencer couldn't have one, Henry wouldn't want one either, and she was absolutely right about her son's idolization of his godfather.

He opens the bottom drawer and pulls out two grape-flavored popsicles, handing one to Spencer. "I snuck two for us."

"Henry..." Spencer wants to tell him off and be the responsible godfather JJ asked him to be seven years old and not participate in sugar before dinner. But Henry's adorable with his big blue eyes and how much he cares. "Thank you."

"We have to eat them here, though, so mommy doesn't find out." He informs Spencer.

He agrees to the plan. "Alright, we've got to be quick."

After Spencer doesn't come back for five minutes and JJ wonders where they're both at, you decide to go looking together, figuring Spencer got dragged into train-track building for a fourth hour and couldn't say no.

Giggling in the bathroom attracts your attention, and JJ nudges open the door to find Spencer and Henry sitting on the floor, purple-colored tongues and popsicles in their mouth. Their heads whip around to look at you, and their eyes grow wide with guilt. Basically, two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"What's going on in here?" JJ asks, raising her eyebrows. It's a mom way that has Henry hurrying to finish the popsicle before she takes it off him. "I thought I said no sugar before dinner." She reminds him.

"Sorry, mommy." Henry apologizes, utilizing the same puppy dog eyes that work on Spencer.

"You're not allowed one after dinner, now." She informs him of his punishment. "Can you go set up the plates for dinner, please?" He gets up, scurrying off to do his chore. Spencer awkwardly gets up, too, grimacing as he waits for his punishment. "You're in more trouble, Reid." She tells him.

Spencer shakes his head. "He brought them in here because he thought I wasn't allowed them, and he didn't want me to feel bad if he had one." He tries to blame Henry.

"And you let him force you into eating it?" She asks, joking now.

"Children learn empathy from watching adults and feeling our empathy for them, so in a way... good job." He says it like it's a question, and both of you- the reasonable adults- laugh.

She pats him on the shoulder. "Thanks, rule breaker. Dinner's ready now, so let's hope he eats it, or I'm blaming you."

He gulps as you walk out to the dining room where Henry's set up the table, and you lean over to whisper in Spencer's ear. "I like your rebel side."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

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mayfieldss · 4 months

Text

A case of probability - Will Hunting

Summary: After years of friendship, Will wants to know why you spend so much time with him, and he gets more than just an answer.

"What're you doing today?" You're lying flat on the steps of Will's porch, staring up at the approaching clouds. It isn't comfortable, it can't be, but it makes Will smile as dodges your legs to sit on the steps with you.

"M'going to work, what'd you think?"

"Oh, of course, it's not like you have a life I'd be asking about or anything, jeez." You slap him on the shoulder, a gentle tap that turns into you grabbing his arm to pull yourself up. He lets you.

"Well, what're you doing today?" He raises a blonde brow, soft locks of hair framing his face.

"Going to work," you mutter, knowing the response you'll get before it happens. A smile has crept on your face to match the boy beside you as Will snorts, nudging you with his shoulder.

"You fucking hypocrite."

"You didn't let me finish!" You defend, and he's grinning, wide and bright as he allows you to plead your case.

"Alright then, what else are you doing today? Other than going to work." He's looking at you with a kind of intensity you've only ever seen in him. All eye contact and even breathing, gentle smiles that suggest he intends to hear every word you speak.

"I'm going to work, then I'm going to get lunch with you—"

"Woah, hold on. Why wasn't I informed that we were getting lunch together?" There's a genuine chuckle of disbelief, but you don't acknowledge him.

"After lunch, I'm gonna go back to work, and I'm going to go home, cook myself dinner, watch a movie, and go to bed."

"But apparently, you're getting lunch with me?" Will asks again, and there's something fluttering in his stomach he can't quite name. You stand as a car pulls up on the road, offering a hand to Will though he doesn't need your help to stand. He takes it anyway.

"We used to have lunch every Wednesday. Why don't we do that anymore?" He holds onto your hand a little longer than he should. You squeeze his own, and he lets go.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at twelve thirty." The horn of the car honks, Will's ride to work. It's Chuckie, impatient as ever.

"See you at twelve thirty, genius. Don't be late." You watch him go, jumping down the steps and sliding into the passenger seat of the car. Then you wander off, making your own way.

"May I make an observation?" It's Chuckie, hardhat on his head as he watches Will, waiting for his friends full attention. He doesn't think he'll get it. He hasn't for a while.

"What?" Will checks his watch before turning to his friend, tired and hot from the day. It makes Chuckie laugh, just how oblivious Will can be.

"She's got you wrapped around her finger, you know that?"

"What? Who?"

The false sense of confusion is pointless, and only makes his friend smile wider.

"You know who, Will. She's got you all messed up and shit. You're her little lap dog or something, jeez. I'm surprised you haven't sucked face with her already." He's far too honest with the words but Chuck always is. Will is already well aware of his opinions on the subject, however, and he is also more than aware of his own feelings. The one thing he can't quite decipher is why on earth you picked him to be your "lap dog" (as chuckie would call it) in the first place. He's the definition of runt, stray, and mutt in his own words, yet you stick by him as though he's more.

"Look, Will," Chuckie speaks again after nothing but silence. "You like her, so grow some balls and take her out. On a real date. You got her number, her name, and her heart. What more do you need?"

Confirmation. That's what Will wants. An answer, a reason, as to why you chose him and keep choosing him again and again.

"You never shut up, you know that chuck?" It's all Will can think of to say, and it earns him a slap on the back of the head from his companion, but he doesn't mind. He has lunch with you in an hour, and maybe then he can get himself some answers.

For now, he works, and as the minutes pass, he thinks of everything he could say to you today and everything he's said to you in the past. As well as every word you've ever said to him. And when Lunch finally rolls around, he's perfectly on time, waiting for you outside the spot you used to meet. You smile as you greet him, and he's happy to see you. He's always happy to see you.

You sit down first and pull out the sandwiches you made that morning, offering one to Will, though he doesn't take it.

"You know, when you have lunch with someone you're supposed to actually eat, right?" The frown on your face is contradictory to the smile on your lips as you bite into your sandwich.

"Yeah, I know." He's scanning every detail of your face, despite the fact he has you memorized by now. "I'm just not too hungry."

"Well, you will be when you go back to work in an hour on an empty stomach." You cut in, trying to convince the boy to eat. You know he won't listen. Not when he has something on his mind, and you know that he does. "What're you thinking about, boy genius?"

You're on to him. That makes Will more confused than before—that you can read him so well without so much as a second thought.

"Why do you insist on spending time with me? like you wait around in the mornings for me to meet you on the steps, and you plan these little lunch dates like I'm your favorite person or something." He takes a breath, trying to find your reaction. Get something from you. "You're late to work every day because you make time to see me. Why?"

The way you're looking at him now is full of a devastating mix of emotions, but slowly, the smile you held before returns. It's soft, sweet.

"You are my favorite person, Will. I figured you were smart enough to figure that one out on your own, but I guess I have to spell it out for you, huh?"

There's heat in his cheeks, swarming there when your words reach his ears, and he tries to hide the fact his heart is beating in a new kind of way. But the side effects you have on him are endless, and he assumes that there isn't a cure he could find in the world for the lump in his throat.

"Jesus christ, I swear I'm going crazy." It's the last thing he mumbles before he leans in to kiss you, and he knows there's a fifty percent chance that you'll pull away, but you don't. You flinch back only slightly before you realise you want this just as much, and in no time, you're practically climbing him like a tree.

Your lips on his, face burning with the thrill of it. Your hair tangled in his fingers as he holds on to you, his life dependent on it. It's messy, teeth knocking against each other, tongues meeting briefly as breaths are shared. But it's fun, and it's most definitely you and Will as a whole. Your lipgloss tastes like gingerbread, and as you pull away for air, Will can't help but laugh. You have well and truly climbed him, and are settled on his lap precariously in the park at which you sit. Your hair is a mess, and he has no doubt his locks look similar to yours. But it's weird how quick it all happened, not your relationship rather, but how easy it was to devoure each other once the time was right. Five years of friendship and a thousand lunch dates later led seemingly to you, with your arms over Will's shoulders, your fingers tickling the nape of his neck. Led to you, perched awkwardly on top of him, your lipgloss staining his face, and his hand squeezing your hip with a kind of affection he'd never given you before.

Of all the outcomes Will had gone over to explain away this situation, he never thought he'd end up in a position such as this. But he likes it, and he wants to do this and a lot more, over and over again.

"Right," you mutter, lips still so close to his. "as enjoyable as that was, a lunch date must include the actual consumption of lunch." You remove yourself from him then, flopping down by his side as you were before like nothing had happened. But the swell of your lips says something different.

"I don't know. You look like a whole meal, in my opinion, and I'm pretty sure you were close to consuming me just now." Will mumbles, part wanting to keep the words to himself and the other half of him wanting nothing more than to see your reaction.

"Shut up and eat your sandwich." You mutter, throwing the bread at him with full force. It hits him on the cheek before falling into his lap, and this time, he takes the sandwich with no hesitation. He unwraps it carefully, laughing quietly every so often with each glance he takes of you.

Today hadn't gone how he'd pictured it, but it might just be the best day of his life.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!!!

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maochira · 10 months

Text

Let me be crucified - on you! (Ryusei Shidou x reader)

Synopsis: Shidou has a crush on you and is VERY open about it. He flirts with you at any chance he gets but also ends up saying a few more or less unholy things.

Tags: gn!assistant!reader x Ryusei Shidou, suggestive flirting, 16+ I guess?, title is a line from Crucified by OOMPH! because it just screams Shidou energy to me

This is part of my Shidou birthday countdown event and also plays in my Neo Egoist League series!

Ryusei Shidou. He's an absolute menace in many aspects. Especially since he just loves to make your working hours even harder than they already are. Either he constantly asks you for help when he doesn't even need it, or he follows you as you complete your task. He's a bit like a little clingy dog. Except for the fact that dogs usually listen when you give them instructions, and Shidou doesn't.

For the past few days, you were busy doing tasks you were assigned to do around the other teams, which meant you got a bit of a break from Shidou. Today you're back to doing work around the PxG team, and of course, the first person who spots you entering the team's area is Shidou. He remembers the time when you usually arrive there, so he probably spent the last few days hopelessly waiting for you. But well, here you are now.

Surprisingly, he doesn't approach you like he usually does. He doesn't even say a stupid pickup line, and neither does he greet you. Instead, he looks at you with a cocky grin as you walk past him. You're genuinely surprised when he doesn't talk to you, but decide to not comment on it. After all, you have work to do and this might start a conversation with Shidou that will end up getting way longer than you'd like to.

Even though Shidou is annoying most of the time, you can't help but admit he's grown onto your heart at least a little bit. He started crushing on you just a few days after meeting you for the first time, but so far you haven't found yourself falling back for him. Shidou doesn't give up, though. He likes to tease you whenever he gets the chance and almost everything he says to you is in a flirty tone. As much as you hate to admit it, he definitely has a certain charm that just catches a part of you. No matter how annoying you think he is, nothing ever makes you feel as if you genuinely want him to shut up. But if he wants you to fall back for him, Shidou certainly has to try harder.

While you're busy with your work, every now and then you can spot Shidou near you or just walking by in the corner of your eye,. But for some reason, he still hasn't approached you. Well, maybe that's because his teammates are around most of the time and while you believe Shidou doesn't feel any shame, that might be a reason why he's currently holding back. Or maybe he's planning something new. Or did he lose his feelings out of nowhere because he didn't get to see you for three days? No no, that can't be the case. He still has this overconfident grin on his lips when he's near you. He's definitely trying to come up with something new.

The PxG players are in the middle of today's practice when Loki asks you to refill their almost empty water bottles. You were just standing there watching the team anyways, so you quickly left to do your given task. But just a few moments after entering the hallway, you can feel someone following you. Without looking back, you immediately know it's Shidou.

He doesn't talk yet, though. But when you're opening the first water bottle to refill it, Shidou quickly stops you by hugging you from the back. He rests his head on your shoulder and you can just sense the smirk on his face, even without seeing it.

"You're doing really good work, assistant-chan." Shidou says while pulling you a little closer to his body.

"Assistant-chan?" You raise an eyebrow. "You know I have a name?"

Shidou lets you go from the hug, but grabs your shoulders and makes you turn around to face him. "Assistant-chan! Because I adore how nicely you do your work. But you know... there's some special work you could do to help me out."

Shidou is about to lean his face a bit closer to yours, but you already took a step back. It's more than obvious that he's not genuinely asking for help, but instead trying to flirt more. He might be interrupting you at your current task, but at least he's amusing.

You let out a short chuckle before continuing to talk. "And what do you happen to need help with? You see... I'm actually busy refilling water for your teammates, who are - other than you - at practice right now."

"Oh come on!" Shidou raises his voice a little, but in a rather teasing than aggressive tone. There is a slight hint of aggressiveness, but it sounds fake. "Do I look like I need to be at practice? Especially when I can be spending my time with a sweet thing like you?"

"You, Shidou-chan," You start in a slightly teasing tone, "Should be at practice because your team needs you. And I, your 'assistant-chan', need to do my job."

Shidou seems to be taken aback by the hint of teasing in your voice. He's flirted with you so often and has always tried to get more of a reaction out of you other than rejection, but now that you're starting to tease him back even just a little bit, he seems to be out of words for a moment. Well, until he gets a new thought and starts speaking once more.

"My assistant-chan? At this point, why don't you become my personal assistant, eh?" The grin on Shidou's face widens. "I certainly know something you could help me with. Hint: it's in my pants."

The immediate response in your brain is 'What the fuck did he just say?' but if you backed out now, Shidou would see that as one step closer to winning your heart - which is something you definitely don't want him to think.

It takes you a moment to find a good response, but you win a bit of time by finally starting to refill one of the bottles. Your back is turned to Shidou now, so he can't see how you're actually struggling to come up with something.

After you finish refilling the first bottle and put it aside, you turn around to face Shidou again. "You're so unholy sometimes, I think you deserve to be crucified." You tease him again.

"Oh, I'd love to!" For a second, you could swear there were little sparkles in Shidou's eyes. He seems to enjoy how you're starting to tease him. "Let me be crucified -" Shidou pulls you closer by your collar and leans his face towards yours, "- on you."

And this is the first time Shidou manages to put a genuine blush on your face. But in no way are you giving in to him like this.

"I'll admit, that was smooth." You carefully remove his hand from your collar before grabbing his instead, pulling him even closer to your face. "You're getting better at this." You pull him just a bit closer, acting as if you're about to kiss him. And as Shidou leans in for that, you push him away with both of your arms on his shoulders.

The startled look in his eyes is absolutely priceless. You've never seen him this caught off guard by anything.

"If you get even better, maybe I'll have to actually crucify you! But I won't let you know if it's gonna be in the way you want it, or the way I want it."

Taglist (sign-up link): @starhrtz @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @acacIa @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @ririgards @depressed-bitchy-demon

#💟 maochira writes #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #ryusei shidou #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #shidou x you #ryusei shidou x reader #ryusei shidou x you #bllk shidou #blue lock shidou

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omgrachwrites · 5 months

Text

World on Fire - Chapter Two

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: A funeral and a job offer pull you back to Chicago. Back to him.

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: I know that non of this fits with canon but lets just go with it! I hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Two

The smile you threw Meg was apologetic as you dragged a comb through your hair and ran down the stairs in search of your shoes. You’d had a crazy twelve hour shift at the hospital – Meg was thrilled to have to stay with your parents – and you’d overslept. Meg looked so much like her dad as she narrowed her eyes at you and folded her arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” you kissed her forehead, “you look nice. Ready for the party?” Meg was having a good time in school – despite her complaints about it – she’d been invited to her best friend’s brothers party that ‘The Beef’ was catering for.

“Mum, we’re gonna be late!”

“We won’t be, sweetie, I promise. I’m ready,” you toed your shoes on and then you were out the door.

Thankfully, you had missed the early morning rush and you made your way through the streets without too much hassle. You glanced over at Meg who was gazing out of the window, she’d taken to Chicago a lot quicker than you thought she would have. Better than you had taken to it anyway.

“Called your dad today?” you asked.

Meg hummed in response as she glanced back at you, “yeah. He says he misses us, misses you.”

You sighed as you glanced back at the road, “Meg, me and your dad are not getting back together. We tried, it didn’t work.”

Meg made a face, “then you need a date.”

You laughed, “what makes you think that I need a date?”

“Because you’re cranky.”

You raised an eyebrow as you pulled up outside the house, “I don’t think so,” you scoffed as you looked over at her, “I’ll pick you up at 6, okay?”

Meg nodded, “are you sure that you don’t want to come in? Your friend Richie will be there.”

You smiled as you tucked a flyaway curl behind her ear, “I’m sure baby, you have a great time.”

Meg kissed your cheek and got out of the car, you watched her head up to the house and made sure she got in okay. You didn’t restart the engine, you sat there for a couple of moments, looking up at the house as you debated on whether you should actually go in or not. After a good few minutes you decided to listen to your daughter and join the party.

It was Richie who opened the door, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, “hey,” he grinned, pulling you in for a one armed hug, “good to see you.”

You laughed as you hugged him back, “and you. Jimmy won’t mind that I’m here, right?”

“Nah, course not. C’mon, let’s go and grab some food.”

Richie led you through the crowded house and into the backyard. Meg was talking to a guy with curly hair who was cooking hot dogs on the grill. As you came outside with Richie, Meg turned to look at you.

“Mum, you came!”

The guy Meg was talking to turned around and you felt the smile slip from your face as you stared at the handsome man. His hair was a little longer than it had been in high school, a couple of scars littered his cheek and he’d gotten some tattoos. His eyes though, his eyes were the same.

“Y/N,” he breathed, you didn’t know how to feel about him saying your name like that after so long. You wanted to hate it, you wanted to hate him. But you didn’t.

“Carmy, you’re back,” you didn’t know what else to say. Why hadn’t Richie told you he was back? Carmy nodded as he stared at you, the atmosphere was a little awkward. That was until Richie spoke.

“You gonna fuckin’ stare at her cuz, or are you gonna get her a hot dog?”

You laughed as Carmy rolled his eyes and he began to make you a fresh hot dog. Meg went over to join her friends as Richie poured you a cup of the luminous green punch.

“This meant to be the shit from Ghostbusters?” you asked, giving it a tentative sniff. Richie nodded and you took a small sip, “it’s good,” you laugh.

Richie went to cause chaos elsewhere, leaving you with Carmy. You thanked him as he passed you a hot dog and you slathered the sauce on top.

“So, you’ve got a kid huh?” he started with a raised eyebrow, when you nodded he busied himself with dishing up more hot dogs for the kids, muttering beneath his breath, “never knew that you wanted kids.”

You scoffed as you took a bite of the hot dog, trying to ignore how good it tasted, “well you know we never really got to have that conversation did we?” your voice was unintentionally bitter and you saw Carmy almost recoil.

“Yeah I know. Look, Y/N, I’m,” you cut him off, you didn’t have time for this.

It was funny, you had waited years for an apology but now, you didn’t want to hear it, “Carmy, you don’t have to say anything. Y’know, I can’t blame you for how you felt.”

The guilt was clear in his eyes and that honestly wasn’t your intention. You couldn’t say that you were necessarily happy to see him back but you weren’t going to be a complete child about it. You took another bite of the hot dog as you let the silence stretch between you, the only sound was the sizzle of the grill and the party going on inside the house.

“I’m really sorry about Mikey, Carmy.”

He let out a nervous laugh as he bent over the grill, refusing to look at you. He’d always been that way when he was nervous, “thanks, that’s er, that’s really nice of you. I know how much he meant to you as well, so y’know, I’m sorry too,” he smiled as he finally met your eyes, looking vulnerable and lost, “he left me the restaurant, Y/N. In his will.”

You couldn’t say that you were surprised, Mikey loved that restaurant and he loved his brother even more. What did surprise you was the bitter look on his face, it seemed as though a lot had happened while you were in London. But, you weren’t going to unpack that right now.

“That’s why you’re back?”

He nodded as he ran his hands through his hair, looking conflicted, “need to get the restaurant up to scratch.”

“And then?”

Carmy scoffed, rubbing a hand down his tired face, “and then. I don’t know,” he swore beneath his breath as he tried to squirt some ketchup onto the hot dogs but none came out.

You laughed a little as you watched him shake the bottle, his brow furrowed, “need some more ketchup?”

“Yeah, yeah, that would be great thank you.”

You nodded at him as you walked back into the house, managing to make your way through the group of pre-teens as you headed for the kitchen. You opened the fridge and found a half empty bottle of ketchup towards the back of the fridge and you grabbed more relish in case Carmy needed it.

As you turned to go back outside you saw Richie arguing with Jimmy and you walked over to them. Jimmy greeted you with a welcoming smile, “hey kid. Good to see you.”

“And you, Jimmy,” you smiled before you glared at Richie, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Carmy was back!” you hissed.

Richie held up his hands in mock defence and plastered an innocent look on his face, “it didn’t seem important.”

You scoffed, “didn’t seem important? Oh, and I suppose you told Syd not to mention anything either?” you’d met Syd at the restaurant on a day when Carmy clearly wasn’t there and you guys had become pretty close.

“Look, Y/N! I don’t know what you want me to fuckin say, you were heartbroken when you and Carm split. Sorry if I didn’t want to upset you.”

Richie’s words made you feel guilty but you pushed it right down. You shook your head as you pushed past him and went back outside to Carmy. Natalie was out there talking to Carmy but she looked pissed, she’d told you that she wasn’t coming and had conveniently left out the part about Carmy being back. Did everyone think you couldn’t handle it?

She waved at you as you came outside and she pulled you into a hug, “hey, you.”

“Hey,” you smiled as you put the bottle of ketchup and relish on the table, “good to see you. Thought you weren’t coming.”

She shrugged as she glared over at Carmy, “thought it was stupid not to come just because I’m pissed with Carmy. I’d never go anywhere if that was the case,” she laughed, when she realised what she’d said she shot you an apologetic look before she quickly changed the subject, “how’s work?”

You made a non-committal noise as you poured yourself another cup of the punch, “it’s going pretty well. Meg isn’t exactly thrilled with having to spend the nights that I’m at work at my mom’s.”

Nat laughed and pulled a face, you knew by her look that she remembered what your mom was like, “I’ll take her when you have to work.”

“No, Nat. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

She laughed, “well that’s good because you’ll notice that I didn’t ask, she’s a great kid.”

Carmy nodded in agreement as he looked up at you, “she is, looks a lot like you.”

You laughed as you watched your daughter with her friends, “yeah, she’s got her dad’s attitude though.”

“Is he awful?” Carmy asked.

You looked up at him, his cheeks and nose were red from the cold and his curls were blowing in the wind slightly. There was genuine interest in his blue eyes as he waited for you to answer his question.

You sighed and looked away from him, shaking your head, “no, her dad’s great, we just um,” you trailed off, “let’s just say Meg was the only good thing to come out of our relationship.”

Carmy opened his mouth to reply but he was cut off when Meg walked over, “Mr Carmy, can I get another hot dog?”

Carmy grinned, “sure kid.”

You watched with a smile as Carmy quickly whipped up a hot dog, helping her put on the mustard along with the crispy onions and relish. When you and Nat approached Meg with the idea of her staying with Nat while you were at work. The look of relief on her face unfortunately told you that your mom was just as awful to your daughter as she was to you.

After the party you were driving home and you couldn’t ignore the happy look on Meg’s face as she ate another hot dog. Carmy had made her one for the road.

“You know mum, if you’re not getting back with dad, you should date Carmy.”

You laughed, “oh god, you don’t think he’s cute do you?”

Meg made a face, “ew no! He’s old like you but he’s really nice mum, he’s really nice to you.”

You held back a scoff, if only she knew. You hadn’t forgiven Carmy, and you probably never would, “yeah, maybe.”

#carmy #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x y/n #reader insert #the bear #the bear hulu #angst #fluff

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sjswrites · 6 months

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Nana

Summary: You grew up under the wing of the Black Widow and even fell in love with her younger sister. Today is a special day. The day your daughter meets Nana.

Warning: I'm sorry for the emotional damage I will cause.

A/n: Hi babe! I'm back. I got some stuff coming up, and I'll probably post a second one today. Anyways, I'm sorry again.

“Baby! Ready to see Nana?” I said as I scooped my baby from my wife’s arms.

“Nana!” She squealed as a few of my giggles slipped out.

“Yeah! Nana...” Yelena held the car's back door open as I buckled the baby in her car seat. I kissed her little forehead before Yelena stepped in to double-check my work. Meanwhile, I got as comfortable as I could with a big dog on my lap.

Yelena stretched her arm over the console and onto my thigh. I put my hand on hers as she smiled with something hidden behind it. “You okay, babe?” I asked as she pulled out of the driveway.

“Yeah… I just wish she was actually here to meet her, you know?” I nodded. “I just miss her.”

I sighed as I squeezed her hand. “Me too…For what it’s worth, I think she’d be very proud of this life you’ve made for yourself. What an amazing Mama you are and an even better wife.” I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you too.” She brought my hand to her lips and did the same. The baby started screaming in the back. “I love you too, baby!” Yelena yelled back as the baby started to giggle.

“Every time.” I said with a little smile.

“I wonder where she gets it from.” I chuckled as I let go of her hand and massaged her neck.

We pulled to the side of the dirt road as Fanny hopped out and started walking down the path. Yelena grabbed the baby and put her on her shoulders as the three of us walked down. As we got closer, I offered to take the baby. Yelena forced a smile as she handed her over.

Yelena took a knee in front of the gravestone and cleaned it up before going around to the side as she pressed her forehead on it. I stepped away with my baby as we picked some flowers deeper in the forest. After a bit, we walked back as Yelena hadn’t moved yet. My baby giggled as she ran back, but stopped.

She dropped her little flowers, ran to the other side, and mirrored Yelena. Sorta. She put her nose on the gravestone and scrunched her face from the cold stone. She squealed and did a little dance as Yelena, and I giggled at her. Yelena stood next to me as we watched her do it again.

“You wanna introduce them?” I asked.

“I think they already know each other.” I hugged her burying my face into her chest.

“She’s such a mama’s girl.” I teased as I kissed her lips.

“I would hope so,” said a deep, raspy voice. We both turned around. “She's a good one.” There she stood. The infamous Black Widow. My mentor. My now sister-in-law. Natasha Romanoff. Or as we call her…

“Nana!” My baby ran over in a breathy giggle. Natasha squatted down in her scuffed black suit as she took in our baby.

I looked up at Yelena and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. “Hey,” Her gaze stuck on the redhead. I grabbed her chin and made her look at me. “Bubba?”

“Please tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this isn’t real.”

“It’s real.” Natasha said as she put the baby on her hip. “It’s always been real, Yelena.”

“H-how are you- how are you here?” Yelena asked as I let her go.

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember much. I just remember showing up at this cabin and the first thing I asked about was you. There was a little cabin with a little girl and woman. They sent me here.”

I put my hand over my mouth as Yelena looked at me. “Natasha, do you know who this is?” She asked, pointing to me. Her eyes scanned over me as she searched for an answer.

“Yelena… it’s fine.” I said as I put my hands on her chest. “Go.” Yelena cupped my face. I faked a smile. “I’m fine. Go introduce your daughter.” She kissed my forehead before walking over to her sister and hugging her. Meanwhile, Natasha’s eyes were glued to me. I looked away. This was a whole new person. This wasn’t Natasha. Not completely, anyway.

“Natasha, this is Allie.” Yelena said, brushing a few strands of her daughter's hair out of her face before looking back up at Natasha. “Short for Alianouva.” I smiled at the three of them despite my broken heart. Oh my God. Clint. I bit the inside of my mouth to distract myself from crying. “Um and this is y/n.” Yelena said pointing to me. “You were her mentor.” Yelena's voice trailed off.

“I’m really sorry…” Natasha said. “I only remember Yelena.”

I shook my head. “No, it's fine. You’re back and that’s all that matters.” I said as I forced a smile.

“Oh my God, Clint.” Yelena said.

“Who’s Clint?” I forced out a breath.

#yelena black widow #yelena mcu #yelena belova x reader #natasha and yelena #yelena belova #black widow

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phillippadgettwrites · 7 months

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The First Time, Every Time: Fire

Rated X / 3377 Words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Scully’s suggestion that he take her to lunch wasn’t a serious one, but he takes her anyway. He’s too distracted in the wake of Phoebe’s surprise visit to get any work done at this point, and he figures he owes her one after she single handedly solved the case while he was busy being mindfucked by Scotland Yard’s finest. He takes her somewhere just a little bit dingy with a full bar, the kind of place they aren’t likely to run into any of their cohorts from the Bureau. While they’ve never directly discussed it, he’s sure she’s aware there’s some gossip circulating about them, and though it’s entirely baseless, it’s best not to feed the beast in his experience.

He’s a little embarrassed that Scully bore witness to the power Phoebe clearly still has over him. He’s a little embarrassed to learn that, even ten years later, when she says jump he still asks how high, and then tries to double it. The moment she kissed him he felt like that naive college boy again, so starved for affection that he’d take it from the teeth of a snarling dog and then thank it for biting him.

He suspects that Scully only orders a drink so he’ll feel comfortable doing the same, though she reasons that she doesn’t really have anything else that needs finishing today, so it’s not an issue if her afternoon is a total loss. She’s actually a really good friend, now that he’s thinking about it. He’s only ever thought of her as his partner, but she shows up for him outside of work, too. And while he might have expected her to bristle at his moderately unprofessional behavior during the investigation, she’d only rolled her eyes and gently teased him, much like a friend would.

“So,” she says halfway through their second round of drinks. He can tell by the wry smile on her mouth that she’s wading into uncharted territory. “Would I be correct if I guessed that Phoebe ripped your heart to pieces and then told you to clean up the mess?”

Mulder cringes a little, but he’s smiling too. Not because it’s funny, but because she’s right.

“Something like that,” he says, then takes a sip of his drink. “Though I wish I could say it only happened once.”

“Ah,” Scully says knowingly, sitting back in her seat and resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other.

They both removed their suit jackets the moment they sat down, and Mulder has since loosened his tie and cuffed his shirtsleeves. Scully is wearing one of those ruffled blouses she seems to have in every color, the ones that have a rather deep V in the neck that’s made modest by all the excess material surrounding it. Sometimes he looks at her in her boxy suits and shoulder pads and thinks about what she looked like in nothing but her bra and panties under candlelight, but he’s careful never to let her see him looking at her that way. The fact that she’s beautiful is filed away in his mind behind more pertinent traits like intelligent, brave, determined, funny, and loyal.

“Pathetic, I know,” he says, looking down at his glass to hide the chagrin on his face. “And she just about looped me in for another round, if I’m being honest.”

“The sex was that good, huh?” she says, and he snaps his head up to be sure that it’s still his consummately professional partner sitting across the table from him.

She’s still there, the skin on her chest flushed pink with booze. She smirks behind her glass, perhaps a bit proud of her locker room talk.

“Depends on your definition of good, I guess,” he answers honestly. “It was pretty wild, and at the tender age of twenty-one, wild was as good as it got.”

Scully’s eyebrows raise curiously and he feels his groin grow just a bit heavy. He’s not sure how explicit of a discussion she’d be open to, but he’s interested in finding out.

“Are we talking ‘group sex’ wild, or ‘masochism’ wild?” she asks, just as casually as if she were asking him what classes he and Phoebe had together at Oxford. Mulder clears his throat.

“I think there was undeniably some masochism involved on my part, but more like high-risk or transgressive.”

“Transgressive,” Scully repeats with interest, her head tilting thoughtfully to the side. She doesn’t ask, but he tells her anyway.

“She, uh…she gave me a blow job on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s grave once, as an example,” he says, hiding his pride behind sheepishness.

A slow grin breaks out over Scully’s face, and Mulder feels a warm flush all over his body.

“Agent Mulder,” she admonishes him lightly, picking up her nearly empty glass and sucking the last bits of liquid off the bottom. “How disrespectful.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking between her smiling face and the table top. “I think that was kind of the point. It was hardly worth it, though. She broke up with me the next day with no explanation and she was sleeping with one of my friends by the end of the week.”

Scully’s smile fades and she holds her glass up, making eye contact with their waiter and gesturing that they’d like another round.

“Mulder, I’ve known plenty of women like her,” she says, her tone shifting as she uncrosses her legs and leans in. “She hates herself so much that the only thing that brings her any pleasure is to be pursued. She showers men with affection and attention, and then withdraws it as soon as she knows they’re hooked.” She pauses while the waiter drops off fresh drinks and takes away their empty glasses, as well as the remains of their lunch. “Men chasing after her, asking what they did wrong and how they can win her back, is the entire objective. Let me guess, if you ever call her out on it she acts offended that you’d define her character based on a couple little mistakes?”

Now Mulder sits back in his chair, disturbed by such an accurate description of his tumultuous relationship with Phoebe.

“Were you secretly attending Oxford in 1983, Scully?” he asks uncomfortably, then takes a gulp of his drink that burns all the way down his throat.

She smiles, pleased with herself.

“Phoebe isn’t nearly as unique as she’d like you to think, Mulder,” she says, resting her elbows on the table and then her chin on her joined hands.

“Well, she sure pulled one over on me,” he says, feeling embarrassed again. “More times than I care to admit.”

He drags his middle finger through the ring of water left by his glass, drawing slow, contemplative circles on the table top. Scully’s hand appears from his periphery and settles over his own, and she waits until he looks up at her.

“It’s not your fault, Mulder,” she says tenderly. “She saw a vulnerability in you and she took advantage of it. Having been on the receiving end of that myself, I can empathize with the fact that it’s difficult to see it for what it is when you’re in the middle of it.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” he says lightly, trying to reclaim the playful banter he’d been enjoying a few minutes ago.

Scully withdraws her hand and picks up her glass.

“I wish that I were,” she says wistfully. “Though I can’t say that my own youthful hijinks included oral sex on the gravesites of famed authors. I’m disturbed to learn the origin of your private joke, by the way.”

Mulder laughs, but he also entertains a mental image of Scully spread-eagle on the trampled grass in front of Doyle’s cement headstone, a dark-haired man’s head between her legs.

“Glad to hear you don’t think I’m a total schmuck,” he says.

“No, not a schmuck,” she assures him with a shake of her head. “I will admit to being a bit surprised by how submissive you were towards her, though.”

The comment was clearly offhand, based on her demeanor, but it hits him like an insult.

“Submissive?” he repeats, sitting up a little taller. “What makes you say that?”

She considers him for a moment before answering.

“You deferred to her in every respect,” she explains. “It was quite clear that she was in charge.”

“It was her case,” he shoots back. “Of course she was in charge.”

Scully holds up both her hands, palms facing him, in surrender.

“Forget I said anything,” she says. “We should probably get back to work soon.”

“I’m not submissive, Scully,” he says emphatically, ignoring her previous statement.

“I didn’t mean it pejoratively, Mulder; it’s not a bad thing to be. I was simply saying that I was surprised by it.”

“Well whatever you think you saw, you’re wrong,” he says sternly, trying to catch her eye.

Reluctantly, she makes eye contact and holds it for a beat.

“Whatever you say,” she says, acquiescent but characteristically skeptical.

Mulder clenches his jaw, holding back a tawdry remark. He waves their waiter over and asks for the check, as well as a cab, and then drains his glass. Fifteen minutes later they pile into the back seat of a taxi, buzzed to the point of uselessness as far as work is concerned.

“Where to?” the cabbie asks, meeting Mulder’s eye in the rear-view mirror.

“Alexandria,” he says, and Scully looks over at him.

“No, the J. Edgar Hoover building,” she corrects, and Mulder levels her with a steely stare.

“No, Alexandria,” he says again, and her eyebrows furrow.

“What are you doing?” she asks quietly.

“Where to, folks? Meter’s running,” the cabbie says, annoyed.

“Alexandria,” Mulder repeats, turning to look out the window as the cab pulls away from the curb.

He feels Scully’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look at her right away. He makes her wait nearly two full blocks before he slowly turns his head and takes in the thoroughly confused expression on her face. Even then, he doesn’t proactively justify his actions like he typically would. He just looks at her, letting his eyes fall to the exposed skin on her chest and then dragging them slowly back up to her face. She opens her mouth and closes it, swallows, then finally turns to look out the window, and he finds himself fighting off a smile. He’s already rendered her speechless and he’s just barely getting started.

The cab deposits them in the parking lot of his apartment building, and after paying the driver he wordlessly heads inside, relying on his reflection in the glass doors to confirm that Scully is following behind him. In the elevator, he again feels her staring him down but does not reward her with eye contact. He behaves as though she isn’t there until the doors open on the fourth floor, at which point he gives her another once-over glance and then says, “After you,” in a tone that tells her it’s a directive, not an offer.

He follows her too-closely down the hall. Not so close that she could rightfully question it, but closer than is socially acceptable. When she arrives in front of apartment forty-two he reaches past her, key in hand, to unlock it, effectively trapping her between his body and the door. She stiffens but doesn’t speak, and when the door swings open he has to touch her back to encourage her inside. She stands in his foyer while he deposits his wallet, keys, and cellphone in their designated places, seemingly waiting to find out what will happen next.

He slips her suit jacket off her shoulders and she lifts her arms out of it, watching him curiously as he hangs it on the billiard ball coat rack near the door. He can feel that her tolerance to continue waiting for the punchline is waning, so he nods toward the dining room table behind her and says, “Have a seat.”

Scully turns to look at each of the three chairs set around the table. One is hosting a stack of books, one a pile of unfolded laundry, and the other a banker’s box full of junk he was planning to donate.

“Where?” she asks flatly, one eyebrow raised.

Mulder steps forward and grabs her by the waist, hoisting her up onto the tabletop. She makes a startled little gasping sound and wraps her hands around his forearms, regarding him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asks, alarmed.

He pushes even closer, so close that he’s occupying the space between her open legs, his hands still on her waist, and leans down as though he’s going to kiss her. She stays stock still, her eyes open, and at the last second he shifts his head to the side and brushes his lips lightly across her ear.

“Who’s submissive now?” he whispers, and he feels her shiver at the tickle of his breath.

He leans away from her, grinning victoriously and expecting to see something along the lines of embarrassment or irritation on her face, but she looks awestruck. Her lips are slightly parted, her eyes unfocused, and she’s breathing heavily.

“Scully?” he asks hesitantly. Did he take it too far? Did he scare her?

Her hazy eyes take a meandering path up his chest to his face, then narrow a little. Her jaw sets, the corner of her mouth quirks, and she reaches up with one hand to grab hold of the loosened tie still hanging from his neck. He opens his mouth in preparation to apologize, but she tugs hard and his mouth crashes into hers. Suddenly he’s tasting whisky and lipstick, and the heels of her shoes are digging into his ass.

Something he should have guessed about Dana Scully is that she takes no prisoners. The one time he attempts to come up for air with the intention of making sure she’s thought this through, she silences him with her hot little hand down the front of his dockers, and he decides that they’ll just have to learn to lie in the bed they’re making. She pops half the buttons off his shirt when she artlessly tears it open, then rips his undershirt off over his head so violently she just about takes one of his ears with it. She gets him down to his boxers while she’s still perched on the edge of his dining room table, fully dressed, and he realizes that he’s completely ceded control to her.

Her hands are just slipping under the waist of his boxers, preparing to divest him of the last scrap of clothing on his body, when he grabs them and pins them to the table beside her hips on either side. She looks up at him, panting, and smiles.

“Point taken, agent,” he says, his face inches from hers.

“You do realize that brute force isn’t dominance, right?” she playfully chides him, looking at one of her restrained hands and then the other.

She’s so sassy, a trait she normally doles out in bite size pieces, and he’d be a damn liar if he tried to claim he didn’t like it.

“What was your plan here?” he asks, grateful that the bend in his waist necessary to hold her hands against the table is obscuring the fact that he’s half-hard.

“I might ask you the same question,” she retorts haughtily.

A beat passes, and she runs her tongue across her bottom lip nervously. It occurs to him that maybe this isn’t just a prank that’s gone too far.

“Are you drunk, Scully?”

She sighs, her head lolling to the side thoughtfully.

“Maybe a little bit,” she confesses. “Are you?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he agrees. “Am I taking advantage of you?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Not yet,” she says, and something in the tenor of her voice sends blood rushing to his lap.

“Would you like me to?” The words leave his mouth before he’s given them even a split second of consideration, and the resulting flash of adrenaline makes him dizzy.

“Maybe a little bit,” she answers, her chest heaving.

The second he lets go of her hands so he can simultaneously kiss her and get to work unbuttoning her blouse, she pushes his boxers off his hips, leaving him nude. She doesn’t touch him right away, though she makes no attempt to hide her appreciative leering, and the combined pride and desperation bolster his confidence to the point that they quiet the little voice in his head that’s telling him this is a bad idea.

In short order, he fills in the details of her body that were previously hidden beneath white cotton. Her breasts are small but perfectly proportioned, and when she lifts her hips and allows him to divest her of her slacks and panties, he finds a full patch of ginger curls between her legs.

For a moment they just look at each other, her hands on his waist and his resting on the tops of her thighs. When he looks at her face and she meets his eye, he at once realizes the gravity of what’s happening and also that it’s already too late to avoid whatever the consequences will be. Nonetheless, he’s afraid.

Scully smiles demurely and tosses her head to get her hair out of her face.

“You’re not getting submissive on me, are you?” she asks playfully, though he senses that she’s a little afraid too.

He allows himself to get lost in living up to her expectations, almost like he’s playing a role. He’s the man who carries her to his couch and tells her to watch while he tastes the slickness between her legs. He’s the man who holds her hands above her head while he makes her come with his fingers. He’s the man who hands her a—miraculously—unexpired condom and instructs her to put it on him, and then he is the man who bends her over the arm of his couch and tries not to seem too proud when she gasps at the size of him and comes again within a minute.

She moves to sit on the couch, her legs wobbling, and looks skeptically at the condom still snuggly covering his erection, which isn’t waning in the least.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you weren’t finished,” she says breathlessly as she pulls a blanket off the back of his couch to cover her nudity.

He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice. Diana never did. Or she didn’t care enough to say anything about it, anyway.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, tugging the condom off and retrieving his boxers from the floor near the table.

“Are you that drunk?” she asks, mildly alarmed.

“No,” he answers quickly. “It just…doesn’t always happen for me.”

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully, and he wishes she’d stop looking at him like that. Like she might actually listen if he told her about the other ways Phoebe took advantage of his vulnerability. About how difficult it is for him to let go in front of someone else now. About how lonely it makes him feel.

He sits beside her and they talk for a long time. About nothing. About everything. About what they just did and what it means for them. Eventually, he does tell her about Phoebe. She doesn’t make him feel weak or silly, or express surprise that a man could experience that kind of issue. She’s empathetic, and angry on his behalf, and she doesn’t take it personally or claim to know how to fix him like most women do. The booze wears away and a new kind of trust is forged, and he gets the feeling that she might turn out to be the best friend he’s ever had.

When she kisses his cheek and slips her hand under the waist of his boxers, he knows that it’s not out of pity. She doesn’t touch him like he’s broken or treat him like a project, and he doesn’t feel any pressure to perform. She coaxes him to the edge and he trusts that she’ll be there to catch him when he falls.

He lets go.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic

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alexa-fika · 3 months

Text

Insubordination and Cynophobia ( Smoker x gn!Kitsune!reader)

Another one from the list 🫦 by @me-writes-prompts AND FIRST ONE THAT IS ACTUALLY IN AN OFFICE LMAO I want to work in more genshin impact pieces, some weak hero one’s but I’ve got so many ideas and suggestions for one piece, maybe I should throw some in between, yall I was so pissed cause I din’t have kitsune in my compendium??? Hello??? Like it has Mongolian death worm but not Kitsune? PLEASE GET UOUR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT, it’s okay I know about kitsune anyways 💅🏽.

Definitions and some context in the bottom

Prompt: “You should take notes,” “You need to take your chill pills.”

Dividers by @/saradika

“We need to raise security on this side of Loguetown; it will most likely be the pirate's escape route,” Smoker says, glancing at his assistant, raising an eyebrow at the lack of anything on their hands

“You should take notes,” he said, glancing back at the map in front of him

“You need to take your chill pills.” They mutter, taking a drag from their kiseru and blowing a thin line of smoke from their lips

“What did you say?” Smoker turning around to face the kitsune

“I said that I would get right to that, Sir,” they said, a sly smile on their face as they snapped their fingers, a notepad appearing next to them, suspended in the air

“That’s what I thought,” he says, turning back towards the map as he takes a puff from his cigars

They roll their eyes, the pipe placed gingerly between their fingers as their tails swish behind them

“I don’t want to hear any lip from you,” he says as he glances at them again

“I ‘ll see what I can do; got a busy schedule,” they said, snapping their fingers again, an itinerary appearing next to the forgotten notepad still lingering in the air. Reader made a flickering motion with their fingers, the pages on the itinerary following their commands as the pages passed themselves

“Hmm, don’t know if I'll have time to fit in your request, have tasks to do; you see, my boss wants me to make quite the move of troops, so I apologize, but I simply won’t have time to comply with your request.”

“Reader,” he growls

“Yes, Sir?” They replied with a saccharine tone

“Don’t talk back to your superiors,” he says with an icy stare

“Oh, my apologies, Sir, no talking back here, simply pointing out that even with my abilities, that type of troop movement and calling in more soldiers is quite the task, so forgive me if I allow myself the liberty of commentary” they drawl taking another drag from the kizeru a slight smirk on their face

“Reader, im not in the mood for your antics; just mobilized the groups before I start giving you consequences for your ‘commentary’

“Oh? Do tell,” they said, snapping their fingers, the items floating around them disappearing

His angry frown quickly lifts as he mirrors their sly grin

“Keep it up, and you’ll be on desk duty rather than fieldwork. I heard one of the officers brought their dogs today, too; desk duty needs to keep an eye on them.”

Their smile quickly drops at his words

His smile widens seeing their displeasure

“You wouldn’t put me with a bunch of mutts! None of your officers are competent enough to complete your field tasks!”

He laughs before taking a long drag from his cigars

“You’re right; none of the officers are as fast or efficient to complete my tasks. However, a few of them could complete it eventually.”

They growl, gripping their pipe tightly

He chuckles, glancing at their annoyed stare

“Get moving; you have an hour, no more snarky attitude from you, or you stay at the desk with the dogs.”

“Fine.” They snap

He smirks at her reluctance

“That's what I thought.”

“Ugh, you humans are infuriating!”

“And you are a pain to have underneath me; why do you think I keep sending you to the desk? Time is ticking, should I call the officer for you to meet the dogs?”

“No!” The exclaim

They clear their throat

“I ‘ll get it done before the hour is over; there better be no mutts in here when I come back.”

“Then you better get moving.” A small smirk was still stuck on his face

Who has to do a 4-6 page essay on phychology history but is doing this instead? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not you 🫢 and that leaves one of us. Also anon, I swear I was going to do yours but I just got an idea for Sabo so…. NEXT ONE FOR SURE, and then ive got a spot reserved for a certain darling rizzy Izzy Wiggy id they want a piece for their birthday

Kizeru is a Japanese smoking pipe, the really long one’s

there are many representations for Kitsune but the one I followed is as you can see the sly type, they are slightly unnerved by dogs as they can see into their disguises and tricks, they also value their freedom which is why Smoker knows being stuck in a desk with dogs is a double punishment for Reader.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #smoker x you #smoker fluff #smoker imagine #smoker x reader #smoker op #smoker #kitsune #one piece smoker #smoker one piece #op smoker

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