#not proofread as usual

[imliterallyellie]

is this thing on? 🎤

nsfw, mdni

morning sex with els

saturday. the only day of the week ellie and you were promised a task-free 24 hours in jackson, that was slowly getting covered in the soft, orange rays of the early morning sun. today was the first day of spring, finally leaving the cold, winter days behind.

you woke up to a face nuzzling itself in the crook your neck, softly placing kisses on your pulse point. ellie got home much later than anticipated yesterday from her last patrol of the week, meaning you went to bed without her. you usually couldn't fall asleep without knowing she got home safe, but a long day of working in the stables knocked you out in your shared bed at 9pm.

you felt a warm, calloused hands rubbing up and down your side, running along the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up a little from tossing and turning around all night. ellie's love language was physical touch and you were more than happy to feed into that.

her hand slowly started exploring other parts of your upper body, tickling tiny circles on your stomach, massaging your hips, until she ventured more upwards and reached your nipples. "els, what are you- ahh", a particularly good swirl of her finger around your sensitive nipple made you let out a whimper, which she chuckled at.

"shhh, s'okay. gonna make you feel good, yeah?", you could do nothing but nod when you felt her slender fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple like that.

she slid her hand down you body excruciatingly slow, which she knew would get a reaction of you. "els, pl- please. stop teasing."

"begging for me already babygirl? you're so cute, just relax f'me yeah? i know my pretty girl can do that."

the teasing felt like it was never gonna end. your neck, nipples, stomach, thighs, not a single part of your body remained untouched. bar where you wanted her the most. ellie flipped you both over so she was hovering over you, her auburn locks framing her face perfectly when she leant in for a tender kiss filled with a soft love that you could revel in forever.

finally she gave in to your whines and moved down your body, settling in between your spread thighs, hovering over your slit. you squirmed when she blew cold air onto your clit but your complaints quickly got stuck in your throat when she latched her mouth onto your heat.

"ahh, fu- fuck ellie, that feels s- so good", she hummed against your clit in appreciation which sent another shockwave of pleasure through your body. her endless teasing had left you incredibly sensitive, which led to her having to hold your squirming hips down with her left arm to make sure you couldn't pull away from her flattened tongue, licking stripe after stripe from your clenching hole up until your puffy clit.

"gonna use my fingers angel, think you can take that f'me?". you nodded eagerly, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation of the added stimulation of her long, slender fingers that filled you up so well.

"open your eyes f'me baby, want you to see how well i'm filling that clenching hole up.", you opened your eyes and hoisted yourself up so that you could lean on your elbows, positioned perfectly to witness ellie's finger disappear into your soaking cunt, causing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips.

"fuuuck baby, you're making such pretty sounds for me, being such a good girl. taking it so well angel, so proud of you."

her praise combined with ellie pushing a second finger into your cunt made you see stars. she was thrusting into you so tenderly but so good, it made you go slack-jawed. the only sounds in the room were your high-pitched moans and the filthy, wet, squelching sounds of her fingers thrusting in and out of your hole and mouth devouring your cunt like it was her last meal. you were sure that anyone in the jackson perimeter could hear how good you were being fucked right now.

but you couldn't care less. not when ellie was making you feel so good. so good that you were so close to tumbling over the edge, but you just couldn't quite get there. your girlfriend picked up on it rather quickly, and acted on it. she came back up and hovered over you, burying her face in your neck while still slamming her fingers over and over again in your hole.

she kissed and nibbled on your pulse point before bringing her face up to your ear and whispering, "come on baby, 's okay. let it out f'me, i know you want to. been so good for ellie this morning, so proud of you mama. let it out."

"f- fuck ellie, i'm gonna- i'm gonna cum- mhmmm fuck baby i lo- i love you s- so much." with a final, harsh thrust of her fingers you finally reached your climax. your jaw fell and your eyes rolled back, unable to cope with the pleasure. you tried to shut your thighs but ellie made sure to keep them open with her spare hand, wanting to guide you through your orgasm. she kept moving her fingers inside of you, slowing down with each thrust, making sure she wasn't overstimulating you.

you let out a whimper when ellie pulled her fingers out of your cunt which she chuckled lightly at. she brought her hand up to her mouth and sucked on her cum-coated fingers. "mmhhm, you taste so good baby. never gonna get tired of it."

you looked up at her through half-closed eyes, still trying to catch your breath and control your heart rate after the mind-blowing pleasure she just put onto you. she kissed every part of your body before getting up and disappearing in your shared bathroom, coming back a few moments later with a warm cloth to clean you up.

"you made such a mess f'me baby, really ruined these sheets huh? gonna have me washing these again? what's that now, the third time this week?"

you knew she was only teasing you but you couldn't hide the blush creeping on your cheeks, quickly growing self-conscious about how you always seemed to leak a very substantial amount of arousal whenever you came around ellie's fingers.

she quickly discarded the cloth that she just cleaned you up with and you squealed when she easily picked you up in bridal style and took you out of your shared bedroom.

"since i can't be bothered cleaning these sheets now, i guess we're gonna have to go for round 2 on the couch, huh?"

oh you were in for a long morning.

#not proofread as usual #is this thing on? #torlex speaking 🌿 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff

[updownlately]

save your tears, it’ll be okay (all i know is you’re here with me)

| leah williamson x reader | hurt/comfort | 5.1k | a/n: this video's been living rent free in my head for a minute now so i thought i'd write about it. this was originally supposed to be a blurb but oh well. no plot just comfort. definitely not my best work, but we move. happy reading 🫶

~~~

You weren’t thinking as you watched the events unfold in front of you.

You weren’t thinking as you immediately started back tracking, sprinting to where you had just run from.

You weren’t thinking as you skidded to a stop beside Leah, mind a frenzy, panic clear on your face as your hand immediately went to rest on the blonde’s shoulders. 

All you knew was you had to make sure she was okay, something that you knew she definitely wasn’t.

You knew the last corner ball sent in had hit her in the face, but you hadn’t seen just how badly it had hit her. 

You had watched with mild concern as you saw her pinch the bridge of her nose afterwards, jogging up to her as you ran back to your defensive half, quietly asking her if she was truly okay as you matched her step for a brief moment.

Not fully convinced when she waved off your worries, you had cautiously taken her word for truth, hesitantly double checking but not pressing, for fear of being overbearing.

But as you watched in horror as Leah fell to her knees shortly after, head hung low in pain, you wondered if you maybe should’ve asked her to pause for a minute. 

Maybe you should’ve gotten her to take a breather. Maybe you should’ve asked her to look up at you. Because then maybe you would’ve seen the dazed look in her eyes, would’ve seen the way her face was wretched in pain. 

Maybe then, you would’ve been there to catch her as she fell forwards, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

But for now you’d settle for being by her side, the pounding in your chest increasing with worry as you did your best to steady the other woman, only moving slightly as the medics came in to check on her. 

Taking measured breaths to try and stop your heart from climbing up your throat, you watched nervously as the blonde didn’t lift her head as the medics checked her out, her weight resting on her closed fists as she barely moved. 

The fact that she had a concussion was clear as day- the way the english skipper refused to move her head, eyes screwed shut in a somewhat successful attempt to block out the surrounding light, slipping in out of consciousness as she was forced into a sitting position, being propped up by you and another team medic. 

Watching carefully as the blonde finally came to a slightly more coherent state, you kept your eyes firmly on her as she faltered through the basic series of on-pitch tests. 

Guessing randomly that she was at a training, unable to tell what day it was or what had just happened, and the clear dizziness as she tried to stand up in an futile attempt to convince you all that she was okay, never mind the increased irritability, it seemed that even she knew she was about to be ushered off, shooting you a pout as you lifted an arm of hers over your shoulder to stabilise her. 

“‘m fine. I can play…” the mumbled words directed at you were followed immediately by her staggering slightly, a groan escaping her lips as she swallowed hard and steadied herself. 

Sighing at the stubbornness you were well familiar with, you nodded along to the statement, keeping your voice low as you responded so as to not worsen the headache you just knew the blonde had, even though she didn’t say it.

“They’re just gonna check you out, yeah? Make sure you’re all a-okay before you come back.”

Even through the fog that clouded her mind, the defender could see right through your bullshit.

“If I go…I can’t play.”

The blonde just barely managed to mumble the words out, wrinkles littering her forehead as she tried her hardest to sound coherent.

Stopping in her tracks to prevent the inevitable, Leah planted herself to the ground, mere metres from the edge of the field.

Trying to nudge her to move along, you stepped forward, only to be pulled back abruptly by the arm over your shoulder.

“No.”

“Leah…” Pleading, you looked over your shoulder to see the ref patiently waiting near the middle of the field, eyeing the pair of you as she waited for the Gooner to exit off the pitch so that play could resume.

“No,” the blonde repeated, obstinate, the trainers around you two looking at you imploringly.

Trying again, you tried to be firm, not wanting to annoy the blonde but still get your point across.

“Leah, you’re hurt and you’ve got to get off the pitch- it’s not up for debate.”

Keeping a straight face, you did your best to put on a hard facade. 

You watched as the girl hesitated for a second, nearly stepping forwards before pausing and standing still again, this time turning towards you and then the pitch, trying to move towards her position on the field.

Frustrated at the clear dismissal, you gently tugged Leah back towards you, catching her as she stumbled ever so slightly.

Lowering your voice just enough that your words would stay nestled between you, you brought Leah close to you.

“Leah, I’m not messing around. You’re headed off and that’s final. No ifs, no buts, especially if you don’t want to be sleeping alone for the next few days.”

“But-“

“Leah. Catherine. Williamson.”

The clear use of her full name was enough to cause the blonde to decide against any retort she had on the tip of her tongue, your rigid tone solidifying the decision for the blonde to listen to you, albeit quite annoyedly.

Muttering a quiet ‘fine’ as she turned around again, you sighed in relief. 

Quickly placing your hand on her cheek and gently turning her head to face you, you kissed the blonde on her forehead before stepping back.

“Be good to the trainers, yeah? I don’t wanna hear a single complaint from them.”

And with a relieved look crossing your face as you saw Leah nod meekly in response, you watched anxiously as she was led the last few metres off the pitch, you sprinting back to your position in midfield, eager for the game to move on quickly. 

The faster the game ended, the faster you could be beside your girlfriend. 

~~~

All that you could hear was the rapid clicking sound of your studs against tile echoing as you raced through the hallway. 

You’d made a break for the medical room as soon as the team had been dismissed from the field, foregoing meeting with the fans and the media, more important things for you to attend to- namely your girlfriend.

Reaching the medical room you were told Leah was in, you slowed to a stop, rapidly unlacing your cleats and slipping them off, opting to hold them as you walked in with only your socks.

Skipping the knocking for the same reason you took off your cleats, you instead cracked the door open slightly, softly calling out for your girlfriend, permission to enter granted as the blonde grunted in return.

‘Awwing’ audibly in sympathy, your shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of the blonde sitting up. 

Making your way to stand beside the cot she was resting on, you navigated the room slowly in the extremely dim light and dropped your cleats gently by your side, hands instinctively reaching out as you neared your girlfriend.

“How are we feeling little miss stubborn?”

Letting out a soft chuckle at the immediate pout that crossed the blue eyed girl’s face, you grabbed her hands in your own, thumbs coming to gently rub the back of her hands.

“Shite. Everything hurts.”

The skipper kept the words to a minimum, it still clearly taking a lot out of her for them to be said.

Shaking your head amusedly at the clearly concussed, stubborn individual you got the joy of calling your girlfriend, you huffed in amusement.

“But I thought you were perfectly fine?” you teased, not wanting to pass the opportunity to rub the blonde’s stubbornness in her face. 

God, she really needed to start listening to you more.

“Don’t…” 

The quiet plea combined with the midfielders head coming forward to rest against your chest had you immediately taking a more protective nature, one hand coming to rub her back in sympathy as another gently carded through her hair in an attempt to bring her some sort of reprieve from the pain. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

Bending down, you placed a small kiss on her temple, lips lingering for a second as relief washed over you.

She was okay. She was awake, and okay, and doing alright, minus a concussion.

You wouldn’t tell the blonde, but you had initially feared the worst when you had turned around to see her dropping to her knees, dazed and confused. 

Call it your anxiety, but the way your heart had sunk so deep, nearly burying itself beneath you, you’d felt so utterly terrified, nearly rooted to the spot if it hadn’t been for your adrenaline kicking in and causing you to sprint back across the field.

So for your own sake primarily (and then Leah’s), you stood there in the silence, revelling in the blonde’s touch as her hands loosely wrapped around your hips, you able to just barely feel her heartbeat as she sat slumped against your body. 

The intimacy of just being able to hold her, her messy mop of blonde hair sticking out in every direction as it pressed against your jersey had your breathing slowing to a peaceful lull. 

You knew that if it ever came down to it, all you’d ever want is the blonde in your arms, alive and well, regardless of what it meant for you or anyone else.

Closing your eyes as you stood there for a little while longer, you nearly let yourself forget where you were, the ease of the weight on your chest and the girl in your arms, your heaven on earth.

It was only when the team’s doc came in to brief you both (mainly you) on the injury, did you pull apart, only going as far as standing beside the blonde instead of in front of her, tucking her into your side as you listened intently. 

You needed to feel her touch, it reassuring you that she was, in fact, alright. 

Jotting down the key points the doctor mentioned into your phone’s notes app, you made a mental list of it all as well, one arm still firmly planted across the defender’s shoulders as she leaned against you. 

‘No bright lights, no screens, no alcohol, no caffeine, make sure to hydrate, eat healthy, and get plenty of rest’- plus a few more you had listed on your phone.

And as he told you that they’d suggested taking Leah to the hospital just to ensure that further medical attention wasn’t needed, you nodded in agreement, worrying as the blonde muttered about how she was feeling slightly nauseous. 

Pulling away from her, your eyes rolling fondly as the blonde whined in displeasure, you quickly grabbed your forgotten boots, straightening up immediately and beginning to help Leah stand. 

“Boots before me? Ouch?” 

The words were slurred as the blonde tried her best to string together a sentence and you couldn’t help but shake in laughter at her sad tone and pout.

“Love, it’s so I could help you walk without both of us toppling over…”

“Why take ‘em off anyways?”

Looking away as a red hue painted itself on your cheeks, you contemplated whether you should tell Leah the real reasoning, no doubt going to be mocked for how much of a simp you were- her words, not yours (damnit Beth for teaching her the word).

“I may or may not have taken them off so the clicking didn’t worsen your headache…”

“You’re cute…” 

The words were muttered quietly as the midfielder rested more of her weight on you, nearly fully leaning against you as she closed her eyes, blindly trusting you to lead her, a comical sight really- the taller blonde nearly smothering you with her weight.

Raising your eyebrows in surprise at the lack of a teasing comment, you shrugged and accepted Leah’s admission without much of a fight, wrapping your arm around her waist as you both slowly began to walk out.

If it wasn’t clear before, then you most definitely knew now that Leah Williamson had a concussion, the easy chance to tease you overlooked, leaving you surprised.

But, as you led the blonde out however, the pair of you slowly making your way to the locker room to collect your things, it appeared that you spoke too soon, much to your chagrin.

“God, you’re such a simp…”

The words were spoken clearly, the blonde clearly having waited for the right moment to say them, lulling you into a false sense of comfort, you able to feel the lazy grin on her face as her cheeks pressed against your shoulder.

Cheeky woman.

Rolling your eyes because of course you weren’t that lucky, you shook your head fondly, your annoyance at her comment clear as the smile on your face grew slightly with adoration.

“God you’re such a little shit…I love you too babe…”

~~~

It’s a few hours later that the two of you are pulling up to your shared home, you in the driver’s seat, a rare occasion if you were honest.

Having driven ever so carefully, Leah very much reminding you how much she loved her car, you had been laser focused on the road, albeit only one hand on the steering wheel as the other sat intertwined with Leah’s in her lap.

You weren’t a bad driver, not at all. But, having only sat passenger in this car, you had definitely been cautious about being behind the wheel for the first time.

“Honestly, I think I’ll stick to passenger princess…that was a headache and a half…” you groaned, putting the suv in park and running a hand through your hair.

Clicking open your seatbelt, you paused your movement as Leah spoke, her voice quiet.

“I know…never again…”

Her comment had you whipping your head up immediately, an incredulous look on your face as you threw your hands up, facing the taller girl slumped back in the passenger seat, an arsenal hoodie nearly covering her whole face.

“Hey. Not fair! I wasn’t bad, it was just…stressful.”

“Whatever you say…”

Shaking your head, you turned the car off, muttering to yourself playfully as you did so.

“How are you so annoying with a near third degree concussion? Surely you’d be knackered by now…”

After leaving the Arsenal medical room, you had both waited outside the locker room for a handful of minutes, watching as your teammates slowly filed out, many of them patting Leah encouragingly, murmuring a few teasing words and some that were encouraging. 

Even McCabe had managed to be nice, only going as far as mussing up the blonde’s hair before wishing her a speedy recovery, somehow miraculously managing to keep her voice at a reasonable decibel for the injured skipper.

You’d been leant against the wall, Leah pulled protectively to your chest, soft words of reassurance and comfort murmured to her in the passing moments, the two of you stood there patiently until you were absolutely sure the rest of the locker room was nearly empty, and most importantly, quiet. 

It was only then did you slowly lead the blonde in, settling her down for a few minutes as you took what had to be the quickest shower of your life.

Helping Leah with her jacket and slides and lending her the baseball cap you stored in your locker for bad hair days, you had quickly packed both your kits and made your way to the parkade. 

It was then that you had realized the conundrum that the injury brought upon- you’d have to drive home.

Now, driving wasn’t the issue. It was more so what you’d be driving- Leah’s car- a significantly larger suv compared to the sedan you typically drove. 

Coupled with the fact that you’d never driven this large of a vehicle around London’s smaller streets before, not for a lack of you trying- the damn thing was just too expensive for you to enjoy being behind the wheel like you normally would- you weren’t looking forward to the trip home.

And neither was the blonde apparently. 

It was only after a lot of convincing, grumpy looks, dejected sighs, and pinky promises of dinner and unlimited cuddles that Leah agreed to hand you her keys, unhappy about the outcome but wanting to go home.

And with that you had been off, headed to the hospital for a checkup on the concussion.

Having your suspicions confirmed during the visit, it was cemented that the blonde likely had a second, possibly third degree concussion.

With another list of do’s and don’ts written safely in your notes app, the two of you had finally taken off for home, nearly two and a half hours later.

It’s what led you to now, you making your way out of the car, rounding it as you opened Leah’s door to help the other girl out.

“Okay drunky, careful now…” you teased, hand coming to hold hers as you helped her out of the vehicle. 

“Y’know I’m not drunk…” the blonde grumpily stated, nevertheless taking your help as she slowly but surely made her way out. 

Shrugging in response as your eyes twinkled with mirth, you just hummed in confirmation as you shut the door behind her and made your way to the front door.

Unlocking it, you led her to sit down on the ottoman by your entryway, kneeling down to help unlace her muddy cleats- something you’d deal with later. 

“Gosh. Take a woman out to dinner first…”

You looked up from your knelt position just in time to see Leah’s poor attempt to roll her eyes, followed by a wince as her shoulder’s curled in at the pain that no doubt flashed through her head. 

“You’re insufferable. I hope you know that.”

“You love me anyways.”

Sighing in faux displeasure, you shrugged your shoulders.

“Sometimes I wonder why I do…” 

Pleased at the scowl that crossed the other girl’s face, you bit back your smile as you rose to stand.

“Not so fun when you’re on the other end now, is it?”

Silently laughing as she crossed her arms at your words, looking nearly like a toddler throwing a tantrum, you pressed a gentle kiss to the top of the blonde’s head as you straightened, placing the dirty shoes on the mat by the shoe rack.

“I’m going to grab our bags, yeah? Don’t move from here.”

“And if I do?”

“Then I’d love to see exactly how far your old, concussed arse could crawl...”

Chuckling to yourself as you heard Leah sputter, you turned around to head back to the garage. 

“I’m only 8 months older!”

~~~

You couldn’t believe you managed it, but you somehow got Leah cleaned up and into a fresh set of clothes- the blonde now slumped on a barstool, head resting on the cool counter as you slowly shuffled around your dark kitchen. 

It had taken the bribery of letting her pick dinner (resulting in ham sandwiches for her of course) and letting her sit at the island, hence the dim hue of the range the only light on in the apartment- to get Leah to step into the shower for a quick wash, you keeping a close eye as you sat on the counter, ready to help if needed. 

After wrapping the midfielder-turned-defender in the fluffiest towel you could find afterwards, you had helped her dress into the comfiest pair of sweats you could find. 

It combined with you returning an old hoodie of hers that you’d borrowed eons ago, one that now smelled like you, much to the blonde’s liking, all that was left to focus on was having a bit of food before the two of you headed to bed for some much needed rest. 

“Would you be mad if I told you I wasn’t feeling hungry?”

The soft words have you stopping your tracks, a nearly assembled sandwich glaring at you as you stared at it, contemplating your next move.

“If you’re not hungry I won’t force it down your throat, but I do ask that you have a few bites.”

“My head hurts too much…just wanna sleep.”

Eyebrows furrowing in concern, you grabbed the plate and a glass of water and made your way towards the blonde, gently putting the sad excuse of a ham sandwich in front of her, grimacing at just how plain it looked. 

Placing a comforting hand on the other girl’s shoulder you rubbed gentle circles and kept your voice low. 

“Three good bites, yeah? And then you’re all done.”

Seeing Leah gingerly lift her head and eye the sandwich warily, you held your breath.

You really needed her to eat, even if it was just a few bites. The last meal she had was nearly six hours ago, before the game. 

“It might not stay down…”

Gentle concern taking a hold of you, you tried not to let your worry seep into your voice.

“That’s alright. If it stays down, great. And if it doesn’t, then so be it. I just need you to have a little bit so I won’t worry when you sleep.”

You figured if you could convince her she wouldn’t throw up, then she just might not.

Letting out a small sigh of relief as you watched the blonde nod in understanding and pick up the sandwich to take a small bite, you relaxed into your own seat, your own sandwich you had prepared earlier waiting for you. 

Sitting in the peaceful silence, the pair of you made quick work of your basic dinner, you finishing yours off as Leah picked at hers, managing to get a little under halfway through until she set the sandwich down and began to rest her head on your shoulder. 

“Lee?”

You kept your voice low, wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulder as you rubbed it soothingly in an attempt to bring her comfort. 

Hearing the blonde grumble in response only to nuzzle closer to you, barstool scraping against tile as her forehead went to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but smile amusedly.

Of course the big, scary, stern English skipper was an absolutely softie- an oh-so-fluffy teddy bear- at heart. 

Bringing your hand to lovingly comb through her hair, you let Leah have her moment, content with passing a few minutes providing her the comfort she craved.

Moments like these- minus the concussion- were your favourite if you were honest.

Times where it was just you and your girl, one in the other’s arms searching for a comfort you knew would only be found with your other half, the tender blanket of your love wrapping the pair of you up, did you finally understand what all the poets and artists would rave about.

It was as you could feel her relaxed heart beat against yours, small puffs of breath fanning the expanse of your neck or the top of your head did you realize what feeling ‘light’ meant. 

Wrapped up in her arms on days that felt just a tad bit too hard was when you understood what having a rock, a constant support, a shoulder to lean on, a hand to grab, always and forever was.

And when you got to hold her- the few times that you would- each time it would hit you like a truck, the understanding that you’d die for her but you’d also fight anyone who tried to take her peace away, without a second though, wanting to wrap her in a bubble of happiness for the rest of her life, only a smile on her face if you were in charge of the universe.

Snapping out of your thoughts as you felt the blonde shuffle, the barstools most definitely not made for the tangle of limbs the pair of you were, your smile didn’t leave your face as you quickly placed another comforting kiss on the blonde’s temple.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

~~~

“Stay.”

The single word had you stopping in your tracks.

You were headed to the bathroom after having helped Leah settle in.

Deciding early on that you’d get her sorted first so she could get her much needed rest in peace, and you be able to actually cleanse your face with a light on, you’d tucked her into bed, kissing her cheek with the promise of only being gone a few minutes. 

Ignoring the whine of protest you got, you figured she’d get over your brief absence rather quickly.

You were proven wrong however, the quiet utterance laced with a desperation you’d never heard tugging at your heart strings ever so persistently. 

Turning around to face the blonde in the dim light of the moon, your shoulders dropped at the absolutely miserable look on her face, one eye barely open as she looked at you pleadingly. 

“Three minutes, yeah? I’ll be back before you know it.”

Squeezing her hand, you nearly sprinted to the bathroom, and began running through your night time routine, easily making the decision to skip a handful of skincare steps- you had more important things to take care of anyways. 

Brushing your teeth and washing your face, you listened carefully for any sounds of discomfort from the other girl, relaxing marginally as it seemed that the day was finally catching up to her. 

Leah wasn’t the overly affectionate type, so to have her press you to stay, you’d be lying if it didn’t kill you a little inside. 

It’s why you ended up tucking yourself into your side of the bed within two minutes and fifty-three seconds of your promise, with seven seconds to spare on your watch and a proud smile on your face as you invitingly opened your arms. 

And with the way Leah immediately snuggled up to you, head tucked easily into the crook of your neck, her arm coming to wrap around your stomach as her leg came to rest across your torso, you knew you made the right call. 

*********

Your bedroom felt oddly quiet with the pin-drop silence that covered it as night descended. 

With only Leah’s and your gentle breathing to be heard as she tucked herself into your side, you let your shoulders relax, wrapping your arm around her waist as you pulled her closer. 

Nights spent together were rarely this quiet for you two. 

They more often than not consisted of gentle murmurs and jokes, the blonde always, and you mean always, finding one way or another to tease you or get on your nerves. 

And if it wasn’t the lot of you annoying each other good-naturedly to your wits ends, it was soft murmurs, dreams quietly being spoken into existence as you discussed your futures, your plans, ideas, goals. 

Careers, education, kids, dream wedding, homes, families, champions league games, world cups- nothing was off the table as you’d both be cuddled up into each other, a head on a chest or the barest of space as you two laid on your sides in the dim moonlight. hands intertwining with each other in the space between your bodies as promises of a ‘forever’ kind of love were whispered between chaste kisses and soft touches. 

Of course you had other nights, where the hours bled into one another, the pair of you only falling asleep when matching sated smiles crossed your faces, an early night turning to a late one, the rising sun signalling for you to go to bed. 

But right now? 

Right now, as pitch black darkness covered your room, you wondered if this was what true, unconditional love was like. 

Missing the ordinary, the mundane that you never thought you would once achieve- it now something you felt odd without, a hole in your heart- yet you didn’t mind. 

You didn’t mind if the rest of your nights went like this- curtains drawn shut, not a single sliver of moonlight peeking through.

You didn’t mind the silence (yes, you missed your late night confessions with the blonde but you’d survive without them). 

And you definitely didn’t mind the way Leah was curled up into you, a sight you didn’t see often, her typically the bigger spoon, but one you wished to ingrain into your memory. 

Swallowing hard as you realized you were a safe space for the blonde- a safe haven for her to heal whilst she trusted you to keep her well, you let your fingertips absentmindedly trace gentle patterns into her back. 

You knew she wasn’t asleep, she never fell asleep easily, hence chattering your ear off (not that you ever minded- though you wouldn’t tell her, teasing her for her late night energy always amusing). 

“How you feeling bub?”

Feeling her exhale deeply against you, you nearly audibly awed as she sunk impossibly closer.

“Head still hurts, but better now.”

“Yeah?”

Feeling her nod, you hummed in response, choosing to close your eyes and let the day wash over you. 

What you didn’t account for in your attempt to relax was the mumbled statement that came your way.

“These next few weeks are going to be weird…”

Well aware of how much the English woman breathed football, you nodded in understanding. 

“They probably will be, and nothing can be done about it. but, I can promise you infinite cuddles, kisses, and snackies to make up for it?”

Feeling Leah nod sluggishly at your words, you squeezed her waist gently, letting out a deep breath as you mentally reminded yourself she was okay. 

You knew she was right- these next few weeks were going to be weird, but you were damned if you were going to let the blonde suffer through her concussion alone, very much ready to be at her beck and call, her rock through the storm. 

Feeling your heartbeat match Leah’s slow inhales and exhales, you closed your eyes as your hold on her got a tad bit stronger, grounding you, and your touch grounding her, as the both of you let the comfort of each other lull you to sleep.

She’d be okay. She was okay. It would all be okay, with her beside you, snuggled up into your hold.

All would be okay as long as she was with you.

#not proofread as usual #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #my writing #fic #hurt/comfort #sytibo

[riaki]

guys pls consider… lifeguard!gojo bit inspired by a post i saw a long time ago from @/shotorus, thank u sel + inez !

lifeguard!gojo, who signs you in for a pool session and gives you the wrong time-slot wristband because he’s too busy gawking at you with hearts in his blue eyes to notice he registered you to swim for 12pm-2pm. when, in reality, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and the hot sun is slowly sinking in the sky.

lifeguard!gojo, who mistakes your polite attempts to correct him as signs of disinterest; he sees things through romance-tinted glasses. of course he can't keep a wounded pride, and so he makes it his saturday afternoon goal to win your heart. after all, who in their right mind would reject him in all his dashing chlorine scented glory?

lifeguard!gojo, who reintroduces himself all suave and cool and he thinks it's working mid-hair slick-back— until he gets smacked in the face by a stray rubber ball, and his sunglasses go flying. it leaves a red spot of hashmarks on his nose, like the ball was a cookie cutter and he was the dough. but he doesn't mind, because he got to hear your pretty laugh as you pick up his shades and hand them back to him, albeit at his own expense. you even say a cute thing or two about the chipped popsicle sticker on the frame.

lifeguard!gojo, who's unreasonably (and immaturely) upset over the fact he can't seductively rub sunscreen into your back because you already have beforehand. but he's not complaining; it smells good when he's forced a little closer to you to avoid a rampaging train of kids running across the pool deck. he should yell at them, but the smell of summery citrus and sea salt wafting on the humid breeze distracts him.

lifeguard!gojo, who pours every ounce of his remaining energy into gettin your attention the entire time you're there— with loud whistle blows from the scribble-adorned plastic whistle hanging from his neck, grabbing your attention, only to just offer a charming wink in your direction. or, squeezing idle small talk between every lap you swim, teasing you with a lazy grin on his lips from under his shaded lifeguard stand when you complain about the heat of the blazing sun.

lifeguard!gojo, who ropes his poor, exhausted snack stand friend with the blonde hair and dark shadows beneath his eyes into helping him— when you give up on swimming laps and begrudgingly let him convince you into going down the waterslides as if you’re a nine year old with neon pink inflatable buoy rings around your arms.

lifeguard!gojo, who forces nanami (snack stand man) to ‘accidentally’ send you down the slide early— you’re caught up in the surprise, the sound of rushing water and kids shouting and a cicada’s buzz filling your ears— and before you know it you’re tossed into the bottom of the pool by the stream of water, disoriented and panicking until two steady arms fish you out of the pool.

lifeguard!gojo, who ‘rescues you from drowning’ holding you bridal style to his chest with his sunglasses balanced on the edge of his nose, letting you catch a glimpse of his uncanny blue eyes hidden beneath his dripping white hair. his whistle lanyard hangs loosely around his neck, drawing a line down the center of his toned chest.

lifeguard!gojo, who can’t help but double over as he laughs obnoxiously— boyishly when he gets to watch your face flush cherry as you scramble to get out of his arms and fall straight back into the refreshing water with a splash.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s forced to reconcile with what he thinks is defeat when he gets you kicked out of the pool early because of his earnest registering mistake— and in doing so, you forget your ring on the pool deck. it's just your luck— you don't even realize it until the sun's almost set and you’re halfway home.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning up and getting ready to close for the night when he spots a gleam of silver reflecting the hazy purple sunset, and he recognizes it as your jewelry (even though that was the first time he ever met you). of course he'd remember it— he'd been absentmindedly staring at your fingers, burning them into his mind; imagining how they'd feel in his damp hair.

lifeguard!gojo, who slips your ring into his pocket after trying it on and marveling at how small your hands must be in comparison to his.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning out the gutters, waist deep in the pool, when he hears your voice again— pretty like birdsong in the spring, dew gathering on the fragile petals of blooming petals.

lifeguard!gojo, who waits for you to come in— the gate was unlocked— and watches as you kneel on the concrete deck, elbows on your knees as you smile down at him. you look really cute, with your hair falling over your face like that, framed by the dying sunlight.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s a little disheartened when you tell him all you came back for was your ring, and not him. or his phone number.

lifeguard!gojo, who disappears beneath the water for a moment— then resurfaces from the pool dripping wet, hair clinging to his face while he acts as though he'd found your ring at the bottom of the pool. "it's stainless steel, yeah? don't worry about rust." he reassures you with a chuckle when you panic; he thinks it's cute.

lifeguard!gojo, who holds the ring just out of your grasp when you make a grab for it, laughing as you almost fall right into the pool.

lifeguard!gojo, who tells you he'll only give it back if you give him your phone number in exchange as he climbs out of the pool and sits next to you, on the gutters, the sound of rushing water filling his ear.

lifeguard!gojo, who, sitting by your side, focuses on the way the pool looks with the lights turned on, an ethereal underwater dreamscape distorted by the incessant moving water. a way of distracting himself from how beautiful you look in the painted sunset.

lifeguard!gojo, who gets his first taste of you when you ask him to face you; you muffle his yelp of surprise, but it doesn’t matter because you taste even better than you smell, a sweetness like crystal rock candy and blueberries on his tongue when his lips meet yours.

lifeguard!gojo, who takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and slide your ring back onto your finger with a quick lingering kiss to your cheek; his lips are a little wet from his earlier pool dip, but the dreamy look in your eyes tells him you don’t mind.

lifeguard!gojo, who sees you out, still riding on the thrill of your lips; the pride in his chest now that he's got your contact saved on his phone with an excessive amount of heart emojis and a (˘ڡ˘ς) next to your name.

lifeguard!gojo, who can't wait for the next time you come back to the pool, and who ignores the angry slew of texts from his boss scolding him for leaving the gate unlocked in favor of the selfie you send him.

you: [ one image attached ]

lifeguard boy 🛟🤍 : GAYATTTTT LET ME HIT PLSPLSPLSS 🙈🙈😝😝😝😋😋🤞🔥🔥🔥⁉️‼️🔞💯💯😼😻💺💺🗽

bonus: nanami gets u two popsicles to share tagging @sugumimi NAOMI I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U WERE TALKING AB my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

#the only reason suguru wasnt the one helping him is bc hes the coffee shop worker in this au #im not gonna make him work two jobs lolll #wait he couldve just done summer shifts #STOP IM SO DUMB................... #also count this as an 800 special…???.? #so thank u all soso much for 800 🫶🫶🫶 #hes so (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ coded #not proofread as per usual #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x you #satoru x reader #gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk imagines

[kentolove]

— 1 missed call from [Name] —

Realistically, he knows he shouldn’t call you back. Ignore the missed call, head back to bed, and forgot you forever. Forget the romance you once shared and move on. Forgot all the words of love that ever left his lips. You are not his and he is not yours.

But he can’t. He can’t possibly ignore you when you’re calling him at 2AM, yearning for him in whatever way you do.

So he calls. Like the fool that he is, he calls his ex-girlfriend of one year back.

“Hello?”

“Tsukishima…” you trail, and your voice is distant. So far, so small, so fearful. He hears your hesitance from one word only.

He wishes you could call him your Kei again.

“Why did you call me?” Tsukishima responds with hostility, for that is all he knows. When he lost you, his ways changed and his heart turned to stone. It seems that anger is all he knows these days, a hard tongue made of venom and stone.

“I-I wanted to talk to you.”

You stutter. You stutter and Tsukishima knows that you’re drunk. You have a few habits whenever you’re intoxicated, and a stutter is always accompanied with the alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” is all he says.

“I know.”

“Talk to me when you’re sober,” he goes to cut the call, but a quick wait! is enough to halt his movements.

“God, I don’t even know why I even called you,” you whisper, as if speaking to yourself.

He sighs, “where are you?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“You went out not knowing where you’re going?” He asks, and it’s that condescending tone you hate. The one that pushed your relationship to its limit.

“It’s not like I wanted to be here,” you whisper yet again, a measly attempt at defending yourself.

Another sigh, another sign of disappointment, and Tsukishima finally speaks up.

“Go to the Maps app.” You mumble a small okay, and do as he tells you. “Now zoom in on your location and send it to me.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You listen to him and soon after Tsukishima gets a notification. He doesn’t bid you goodbye, simply cuts the call and gets up from his bed. He heads for his closet, grabbing two jackets, and heads out the door.

He’ll see you for the first time in a year.

-

And see you he does.

You’re sat on the curb of the road, your knees pushed against your chest and your head resting on your knees. It seems as if you’re asleep, your eyes closed and body still.

He kneels beside you, whispering your name loud enough to wake you up.

“Huh?” You groan, turning your head to look at the man you can’t seem to let go. “Kei?”

There it is. It’s always sounded so sweet on your tongue, so sultry and intimate. It’s his given name, the one he grows to love each time you say it.

It’s bittersweet hearing it from you.

“Why are you just sleeping in the middle of the road? What if some pervert stopped by?”

“But nobody did,” you say, logic leaving you in your drunken state. You move closer to him, seeking his warmth.

You’ve always loved his touch. When you once called him yours, his body was always somehow attached to yours. Your skin on his, his heart in your palm.

He sighs, “get in the car, [Name].”

He pulls you up from your position, easily holding you as gently as he can.

“You never used to call me by my name,” you stop and lean into his shoulder. “I was always your baby.”

Tsukishima knows it’s the alcohol talking. That you’d never say this sober, and that there’s a possibility that you don’t mean any of those words. But his heart still hurts. It hurts so much that he feels as if he has lost himself. Lost all the progress he made to just get over you.

(But perhaps he never really stopped loving you, if he was so willing to pick up your call.)

He lays you on the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt for you. He drapes the extra jacket over your shoulders, and you remember it to be one of your favourites. You stare at him the whole time—eyes on his—but he refuses to look back. Not when he knows how easily his resolve could crumble with you around.

The car starts soon after, and you’re already asleep. Your head lays peacefully on the mirror, and Tsukishima wishes he could stay like this forever. In a world where he is yours and you are his.

-

There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets.

He prefers to live in the present and let the past be the past. What has happened is unchanging, so why worry? Why worry about what he should’ve done, when all he has is the now?

There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets. But he will always regret leaving you.

He knows that now, as he is in your bedroom, trying to find a way to change you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear.

You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, unmoving in the midst of all noise. That trait carries on to now, as he struggles to get your top off your body.

You squirm as he touches you. “Kei,” you whisper. “Why’d you pick me up?”

“You called me.”

“But you picked up,” you slur, “you could’ve ignored me. You were good at that when we were together.”

He winces. He knows you don’t mean it. You’ve always been far too kind to respond with such malice, especially towards him. Even when your relationship was walking on a tightrope, you never once yelled at him.

“Why were you so mean, Tsukishima?” It’s a rhetorical question, he knows it, but his heart burns the more you speak.

“I loved you so much, but you didn’t love me at all.”

“Don’t,” he immediately interrupts, “don’t say I never loved you.”

“You never showed me,” your voice is small, and he knows you’re about to cry. (Even after all these months, your habits remain in his mind.)

“I love you. So much more than you’ll ever understand,” he speaks with so much passion, that he forgets his confession.

He loves you. His heart will always belong to you.

“I love you too,” you cry, and a single teardrop grazes your cheek.

“You never deserved me.”

“I get to decide that,” you grab his delicate face with your rough hands. He always fit so perfectly in your palms. “I get to decide who is good for me.”

He pauses, resting in your hands and cherishing every moment he has with you. And it’s in your calloused palms where Tsukishima realises what he misses. He misses your presence, your love, you. Every habit that made him love you so deeply, he misses.

He will be yours again, he decides, as you hold him close. Somehow, someway, he will win you back.

#Not proofread! I’ll do that later #okay I usually like making a guy beg but I JUST WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS OKAY #Normally I’d make tsukki beg on his knees but #mine #tsukishima #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu headcanons

[ghostaholics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒: dust tucked in the corners to form little piles that spilled out between the grout hugging the uneven terra-cotta tiles, bits of sand and gravel scattered around the place like a storm’s passed through, and the stale desert air that’s so oppressive it’s continuing to bake the entire compound well into the night.

But it’ll have to do. With this being the only shelter around, you’ll have to suck it up unless you want to hoof it an entire city over with 30 kg of gear – nearly an hour south of where you are, if not more; there’s really no luxury of complaining about your current accommodations despite the feeling that these four walls made of adobe brick seem much better at regulating temperature than keeping out any hostiles that could still possibly be on your trail.

The whole situation's unfortunate. You would’ve slept on the floor if you could guarantee that sand wouldn’t find a way to cram itself up your nose. So, you’d opted to share the shitty, lumpy mattress in the bedroom with the Lieutenant.

"Oi, quit movin'," he huffs out through the dark, his heavy voice cutting into the midnight blackness that seems to swallow up the room. It's impossible to get a good look at him without much light, but you can see the outline of his figure when you move your head to the side.

You’ve been tossing and turning, not even really to do with the discomfort of the bed – wretched thing – but the knowledge that the people hunting you down could close the gap within a matter of hours if they wanted to. It's been more staring up at the ceiling than anything since the two of you decided to retire for the night.

And then Ghost continues, “I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

He’s not. He doesn’t sleep well – insomnia, maybe. With the way he is on some missions, you’d be hard-pressed to think that he ever gotten a full night’s worth of uninterrupted shut-eye. Always staying awake, always assigning himself to the graveyard shift for watch while everyone else squeezes in a few hours of rest before the sun comes up. Of course, he’s never bothered to tell you if that’s really the case – having trouble going down for some sleep – and you’ve never cared enough to ask. The two of you aren’t necessarily on close terms like that.

"The idea that they're still out there is making me a little restless," you admit – feels odd to be sharing your fears with him, but maybe that'll get him off your back, make him tone his temper down.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

A scoff leaves your mouth. "Easy enough for you to say."

“Yeah, it is. And you know I'm not gonna let that happen, because anyone that tries, is gonna have to get through me first.”

#somebody sent in a different ask about sharing a room with ghost and i absolutely did not answer it right #as per usual #but are we really surprised #don't @ me #not proofread #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod

[sminiac]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WHINY RIWOO WITH DRY HUMPING I BEG. IT CAN START WITH THEM LIKE PLAY FIGHTING BEING CUTE BUT THEN. YEAH. I read one with riize sohee and.. It was LIFE changing 👁

⋆ Lee Sanghyeok + Reader

Contains! — Smut focused, dry humping, MDNI.

Note — As soon as you mentioned Sohee w this I was like “Thea!!!😧☝️” bc IT REALLY WAS LIFE CHANGING, ugh I love my mutuals, I <3 @kissohee. But I gotchu! Although, I will switch it up so it doesn’t seem very copy paste, it wouldn’t feel right to me, here’s the fic w Sohee that was mentioned <3

You knew they’d do good, they always did, and Riwoo was one out of the six who certainly knew that they had executed their performance quite perfectly.

The adrenaline rush still buzzes within him as he comes bursting back into the waiting room, walking like the sun had found its place of eternal peace under the thick of his skin. His confidence glowed from within, beaming in contentment as he falls into your chest with an eruption of happy giggles, basking you in his warmth, saying breathlessly against you that he had fun, so much fun, and that it didn’t even feel like he was running on merely a few hours of sleep as your fingers scratched against the nape of his neck, sweat dripping from his hair and down the surface of his skin, it reminded you of the way water shakes off of pine trees after a long shower from the clouds above.

You couldn’t deny how pretty he looks like this despite the cemented fact that the two of you were strictly platonic, only best friends, but something foreign stirred up inside of you seeing the way he still struggles to catch his breath, his heart beating so fast that you can feel it through the layers of clothing between the two of you.

“You looked really hot on stage.” you say simply, watching the way your fingers thread through the few inches of his blonde hair. “Yeah, it was really warm, I don’t think I’ve ever produced this much sweat from performing before.”

You struggle to bite back a laugh at his clueless response, a little warm in the face from his unknowingness to the existing layers of your words. “I bet, I can feel it soaking through your clothes, how’re you on top of me if you’re so warm?” Your finger pokes gently into his cheek.

“Shhh!” He musters as he lets his hands out from bearing his weight, his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he settles further into you. “I’d prefer for my pillows not to yap in my ear when I’m trying to sleep, thanks.”

Your palm gently pats against the back of his head, imitating a smack that makes him jump, you’re too busy whining about how he needs to get off of you that the fact his semi-hard cock just dug into your thigh goes unnoticed. “You’re lucky I’m so nice to you, y’know? Bratty boy.”

He makes a small ‘Mmmph’ sound in disagreement, his hips lifting and then falling back into you. Right now it seems that you’re the clueless one after dismissing the movement as a way to annoy you, and not that he’s secretly rolling his own high into play.

“I’m so nice to you, Riwoo. Sometimes I think I show you a little too much leniency, even when you do deserve it.” There’s an airy laugh to your tone, “No matter how rare that is.” and his ears know that you’re merely just joking around, you know- like you always do, it’s how you you are, but something about it is simultaneously making his hips shift against your leg, his breaths so heavy that they start exiting through his mouth in quiet pants.

“Please-” he squeaks, his hands fisting at your top desperately, he tries to keep himself from grinding into you fully with the heft and longevity that has his mouth watering, it’s not right, but fuck does it already feel so good.

“What? What’re you doing?”

“Hhngh- why d’you, fuck-! Have t’be so soft.” He’s taken under by the slightest lick of pleasure, so much so that his own embarrassment is far from the surface, and he’s not willing to pull himself out of it anytime soon. “Riwoo, can you…” the pre that sinks into his briefs coaxes him to keep going, rocking faster, harder against your leg, but the pleasure only comes to a certain point before fizzling out again, he doesn’t have enough firmness to make him breach the minor setback but he’s too stupid to come up with a solution for himself. “Honey please, I just need to you-”

He isn’t listening, his hips are frantic, eager, a little too much for your liking. “slow down.” You pull your leg away, out from under him.

He looks up at you with a quivering lip, such a sweet docile thing, his wide glossy eyes blinking up at you, the fear starting to sink in once he’s able to focus back on the actuality of the moment. He was just pathetically humping your leg. You, his bestfriend, his awfully pretty bestfriend who has a habit of calling him ‘honey’.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Fuck! Oh my god, Y/n I’m really sorry.” His head starts shaking side-to-side, a look of pure disbelief on his face as tears start swelling against the bottom lid of his eye, they fall heavy with every blink, the smoked out mix of warm browns around his aegyosal smearing down his face, leaving an existing trail that makes the entire act so much more lucid.

“You need to chill out,” you chuckle whilst leaning into him, he’s frighteningly still as you press a tender kiss against the mole under his eye. “I just wanted to move, make it feel better for you, you probably won’t be able to cum like this, hm?”

You look so beautiful, he swears you’re an angel, especially with that damn proclivity for being so concerned about others before yourself. He nods his head, agreeing, you’re right- how are you so right all of the time? The words, the way you use them, he’s never heard such explicit language come from your mouth before in any amount of sincerity that they’re soaked in now, but god does he want to kiss you because of it. “Tell me,” you beckon, your eyelashes are so pretty, has he told you that before? Especially the way your head tilts to the side, the angle makes them look more wispy as you blink around at his features, your fingers gently moving the ends of his hair out of the way.

You touch him like he’s always been yours to touch, and right now he’s never been more sure of wanting to always be just yours.

“Can’t- you’re right, you are. I-I bet I could, make do with what I have, don’t need anything else- whatever you give me, ‘s more than good enough.” His sniffles break through his words, the sound of his voice so quiet, shy, hiding in the back of his throat that it makes it crack.

“Trade spots with me, will you?”

He nods quickly, he will, of course he will, he’ll do anything you ask of him. He wastes no time pushing himself back onto his calves, watching as you stand up from the couch and instruct him to lay on his back, claiming your spot.

“Comfy?” You ask, leaning over him, pushing his hair back from his forehead, it pokes out between the crack of your fingers as he nods, eyes closing as you place a warm kiss against his forehead. “Good. Sweet boy, bein’ so good for me.”

Sweet boy, he’s never heard that one before, it has the exact same effect that your usual pet name has on him, he knows because it makes his shoulder ache. A whimper bubbles from his lips, you can feel the way he squirms under you, it has your hips moving to rest directly over his dick that’s straining heavy, wet in his pants. The sensation is warm, really warm, and… damp? Your hand drags down, thumb swiping over the area a few times as Riwoo’s fighting back a long pitchy moan from escaping so bad that it hurts, curiously you inch back, seeing a darker patch of black along the seam of his slacks, his pre had enough time to completely soak through, added the copious amount it was enough to breach through the thick of your pants.

The moisture makes the fabric feel almost thinner, or maybe it’s the way it’s conformed to the shape of his head that makes the drag of your pussy over it feel even more distinct as you move back, unwilling to waste time, to let even a second of seeing him like this slip from your grasp you resume grinding against him.

“Please- fuck! Y/n- pleasepleaseplease!” He whimpers quickly, unabashedly rocking his hips up in time with yours, his left hand has a firm grip on your thigh that keeps you close, his other rests against his cheek, index finger caught between his teeth as he rocks into you. “Wanna cum, jus’ wanna cum- make a mess f’you, only you- shit! Plea-”

His legs help him punch up into you, unexpectedly spilling in his pants, you watch whilst catching your breath at the way he shudders back down into the cushions under him, his mouth wide open, drool pooling behind his teeth and leaking out of the corners of his lips, a long drawn out whine pulling from his chest, a fuzzy dazed expression on his face, filling out his brain.

“You really do know how to make a mess.” You tease, hands running soothingly up and down his chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came like that before… are we- are we still only friends if you made me cum that hard that fast?”

#bndbysai #not proofread #I usually do that the following day neway #I’ll make this more coherent tmr #THIS WAS FUN #I hope it’s alright at least #boynextdoor riwoo #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor x reader #lee sanghyeok #lee sanghyeok x reader #lee sanghyeok smut #bnd riwoo #bnd riwoo x reader #bnd hard hours #bnd x reader #bnd smut #bnd imagines #bnd #riwoo #riwoo x reader #lee riwoo #riwoo smut

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

so here's the thing. Cass's favorite brother is probably Tim. he's her little guy, her sweet cheese, her good time boy. they're both very similar to Bruce in a lot of ways, but more than that, they find it easy to be around each other. Tim is more quiet than the others, which Cass appreciates, but he's also fascinating to watch because there's constantly a thousand things going on beneath the surface of him. Cass and Tim are masters of parallel play, but only and primarily with each other. Tim is quiet when Cass wants to be quiet or talks when she needs to talk, and if she doesn't have the words for something he never so much as bats an eye (even Dick bluescreens sometimes trying to figure her words out), he just helps her find the right ones. Tim can read her almost as well as she can read him, just slower and not trained into him, it's just how he is. he looks at her and tries to figure out how she works, the way he does with everyone, a way most people don't. it makes her feel seen the same way she sees, and that's valuable to her.

another thing is that Tim is also, in all honesty, Jason's favorite brother. like it's almost counterintuitive considering how they first really met, but hey — brothers forged in blood, right? there's some wild poetry to it and they Get each other on a level the others don't really bc they're the middle children, 2nd and 3rd and always afraid of being rejected. but they've got each other. Tim is Jay's favorite because he's so incredibly forgiving (to be welcomed back to the family by the kid he nearly killed? the kid he hated? INSANE.) and because he doesn't judge. (Jay is Tim's favorite bc he's chill when Dick or B can be smothering sometimes. Jason isn't the one who lost a brother and a son, he's the one who was lost, so he's not quite so afraid of losing. yes, he's protective, but not overwhelmingly so.) they have an instinctive kind of brotherhood where they balance each other out, tempering each other's worse tendencies and bolstering the better ones without having to talk about it.

the third thing: Cass really does not like Jason. she has the no-kill rule in her heart even before she had words to explain it, and it's different than with Bruce because she's lived it. she's lived the reason why they have that rule. and Jason has too, but come out on the other side, what Cass considers the wrong side of a worldview completely different than her own. Jason kills, he breaks the law written in her soul and in their adoptive father's, and no one stops him. she can't comprehend it, and she will never accept it. she rarely uses his name, rarely interacts with him at all if she can help it because much as she wants to start a fight, it would hurt Bruce if she did and she doesn't want that. she just calls him Hood, most of the time. if they absolutely have to work together, she does what needs done and leaves.

so. Cass hates Jason. and Jason hates being hated. as far as the principle goes, he can get why Cass doesn't like him, but she's loath to even be around him and that bothers him. she's just this side of being actively hostile, meanwhile Jason is honestly trying his best not to tick her off but it's really hard when he gets glared at by possibly the most intimidating Bat every time he's at home. the same way there's a difference between Bruce and Batman (they put away masks at home, or at least they try to), there's a difference between Jason and the Red Hood. but Cass, determined, rock-solid Cass, refuses to accept that. it's not a good situation, especially when Tim gets in the middle of it, because both Cass and Jason love Tim but hate each other and Tim is just tired and wants his siblings to get along and see, this is why he prefers one on one time to family gatherings.

because at some point something happens and Tim gets hurt, maybe captured or outnumbered (as capable as he is, even a great strategist and skilled fighter can be overwhelmed at times) while out on patrol, and Oracle, sitting in front of her computer array, sighs and rubs her temples and opens up a communications channel to the only two Bats available to assist — Red Hood and Black Bat. she tells them what's up, gives them Red Robin's location, and then dips back out of the channel because she is not going to spend the rest of the night listening to palpable silence from Cass and increasingly frustrated questioning from Jason. she's not paid enough for that.

so Cass and Jason HAVE to work together. HAVE to team up to save their mutual favorite sibling (who, for what it's worth, has no clue he's ANYONE'S favorite). and neither of them is pleased with this turn of events, on multiple counts — 1, Tim is hurt. 2, Cass hates/at least strongly dislikes Jason. 3, Jason has tried everything to make peace with her and is honestly feeling a little bit desperate about it at this point because he has tried EVERYTHING, so now he's just right back at aggression. it's a situation that really can't have a good outcome for everyone, because Cass and Jason's mutual dislike for each other is at odds with their mutual love for Tim and both of them arrive at the same conclusion: all they can do is work for the best outcome for their little brother.

Tim, who has only been lightly stabbed and could have probably gotten by with just one person for backup instead of two, let alone THESE two, is both exasperated by the turn of events, and just plain glad that someone came for him. he's bleeding and hurting and watching from the alley floor as Cass stares (glares) at Jason, who's trying to figure out how to get a shot in that will give Tim a way out without, yknow, shooting his brother in the process.

and then Cass just swoops down and between her insane skills and the intimidation factor of a bat with a full-face mask the entire situation is diffused before Jason has a chance to shoot anybody, which is a better outcome than Tim expected. Jason grapples down as Cass is finishing up with the last few bad guys and she turns around and starts glaring through the mask again. the problem is, she loves Tim. he's her favorite brother, the one most like her and most like their father. but Jason loves Tim too, and Cass can see it as soon as she looks, really looks to see it. and it's so, so obvious when she sees Jason's bloodstained, scarred hands carefully bandaging Tim's (slight) stab wound and the fact that Jay pulled off his helmet as soon as it was safe to and is talking and grinning and keeping a steady eye on Tim because everyone knows that Tim plays down his injuries often and you have to watch him, because he's smart enough to hide things unless you really know him. and Jason knows him. and Cass can see that. and as much as she doesn't like Jason, as much as she's possessive of Tim, she softens for just a minute.

not that she'd ever tell anyone, and Tim was too distracted and half-foggy from blood loss to see it in her at the moment. Cass still doesn't like Jay. Jay is still utterly frustrated by the fact that she won't give him a chance. Tim is still annoyed by all of this and complains to Babs about it (bc Steph just laughs and says all three of them need to suck it up and move on, which is TRUE, but unhelpful) any chance he gets.

it isn't until an Arkham breakout, not the worst they've seen but obviously not good news, when Jason gets badly hurt and Tim (who was with him at the time) gets Really Scary, like full-on not moving a muscle, staring down the man who did it with such intensity that it feels like he could kill with only his masked eyes, sharp and suddenly absolutely terrifying to anyone who doesn't know him, that something really clicks for Cass. because she slips in as Tim coldly, calculatingly shatters the guy's kneecaps just as thoroughly as Jason's bullets would have done and then his rigid intensity falls away and he's a kid terrified that his brother is hurt.

Cass sees the way Jason is with Tim and she can't quite reconcile that caring with all his killing but she knows, because she can SEE it, that Jay cares about Tim much the same way she does. and then she sees how Tim acts when Jason is hurt, the scary sharp side of her little brother that only comes out when he's very, very afraid and very, very determined, and she sees the way he loves his older brother and... she can't deny that either.

and maybe Cass will never LIKE Jason, maybe there will always be some tension between them, but. she doesn't call him only "Hood" all the time, anymore, and Jason is capable of recognizing that tiny detail as her version of a peace offering. Tim is just glad they're not yelling at each other (or Cass's silent staring version of yelling) all the time. maybe it's a whole mess, but hey, they're working on it. as long as there's love, somewhere, there's something. (there's family)

#this was originally a meta post but it spiralled. like. a lot spiralled. #i just think they should have a contentious little thing going on. sibling rivalry but they don't consider themselves siblings #like it's funny but also fascinating. they're narrative foils!! they're their fathers precious children! they have #directly opposing worldviews and mindsets!!! #this could be so deep but also. SO comedic #i need to write the stupid little batfam road trip fic in my head bc the ensemble dynamics are SO FUN #Lu rambles #meta finding tag #batfam #cass cain #jason todd #tim drake #i didn't proofread this if it has typos I'll find it once it's too late and it's already been reblogged. as usual 😂

[hyoqa]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: hyoga thinks very poorly of being in love, but he's in love with you

warnings: hyoga is a little sweet at the end

Hyoga did not like the idea of love— it was only natural for someone who thought like he did. It was illogical and people acted irrationally because of it. If anything, he looked down on those in love because he genuinely thought they were losing their minds to some silly feelings. To him, love was always something for the weak, not for the strong who had things to be doing. Important things.

Which is why he thought you were so horribly stupid to be confessing to him. If one thing wasn't going to work, it was that. Yet, no matter how many times he told you that you were being silly and he wouldn't return your feelings, you just wouldn't back down. Almost daily, you'd find a way to tell him your feelings again.

He hated it so much, everything about it upset him, but somehow he wasn't able to push you away. Your daily greetings and conversations made him far happier than he would like to admit, and that annoyed him greatly. He was not supposed to be feeling joy from someone else, and definitely not supposed to be looking forward to seeing you. Illogical, irrational, thoughts.

These thoughts alone already annoyed him— he hadn't even dared to think he was in love. Never would he be in love, and definitely not with you. Yet, deep inside he knew. He knew that if you were to stop one day he'd probably give in and blurt out these emotions he's been hiding from even himself. He wasn't ready for that, but more importantly, he wasn't ready to see you give up on him. He knew he was being illogical and annoying, not wanting to admit his feelings to return yours, but also not wanting you to move on to someone else. He knew he was being hopelessly selfish, but he just didn't know what to do. He had never been in love before.

The next day when you confessed your love for him all over again, like it was the first and this hadn't been going on for weeks now, the thought alone that he might harbour feelings for you flustered him to no extent. He didn't mean to act so cold and push you away, but he just didn't know how to act. He had no idea what to do, but he knew he'd rather die than show it on his face.

"Hey, Hyoga?" you asked, voice serious.

He stopped to listen and turned his head your way.

"I know you're not fond of me doing this every day, but is it really a nuisance to you? If it is, I'll stop..." you said carefully.

You were trying not to cry, he could tell. He's heard you every day so he knew you well enough to know that much. But this was exactly what he was dreading and he brought it upon himself. Why couldn't he act like he normally did? Why were you affecting the way he acted? Everything irritated him until it made so much sense.

He was in love with you, and there was no denying it anymore.

"Please be blunt about it, I'll feel better that way," you said, but then smiled immediately after. "I guess I don't have to worry about that with you, though. You don't know how to sugarcoat your words anyway."

He didn't know what to say and how to tell you how he felt, so it came out blunt and honest, just like you had asked for it to be. It wasn't the kind that he liked— it came out far too uncollected and in a fluster, but it was his genuine thoughts.

"I think I'm in love with you, and that scares me to death," he said.

"What?" you ask, not believing your ears.

"I will not be repeating that," Hyoga said and turned away. He genuinely believed you were going to run after him and squeal like you always do, but you didn't.

"You won't take it back, though?" You said quietly and he immediately turned around. He knew you were crying. He didn't mean to make you cry— that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"You just said to be blunt, so I was," he said. "Please don't cry."

"I am so in love with you," you said, looking straight into his eyes.

"Even after I made you cry?"

"These are the happiest tears I will ever cry."

#hyoga x reader #akatsuki hyoga x reader #hyoga akatsuki x reader #hyoga #akatsuki hyoga #hyoga akatsuki #dr stone x reader #dcst x reader #NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT ? #i am so sorry i will shut up #as per usual i literally CANNOT WRITE COLD MEAN RUDE HYOGA LIKE NO THAT IS NOT HIM #idk what hyoga you were reading but THE ONE I READ AND FELL IN LOVE WITH IS A SWEETHEART DEEP INSIDE #I AM SORRY I CANNOT CHANGE THIS #anyways my only concern is that i feel like all the things i write are starting to sound rhe same #like i have another blurb in my drafts thats practically complete but it sounds just like blurb 2 so idk if i should post it #i will have to figure something out #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ILYSM #also hardly proofread i apologize #i will reread later and fix as i go

[jihyocentric]

before you read this, know that the fill where jihyo talked about her first date with nayeon to jisoo might have a line or two that won’t make sense after this update, but i can change that later. it’s not really a major change.

-

jihyo’s headache starts early in the morning, when instead of tending to jisoo’s needs, nayeon seems more focused on foolishly decorating their pancakes for breakfast by making animal shapes with powdered sugar, even cutting the fruits to make hearts with them and decorate their plates.

it was a special occasion, as after jihyo took care of a problem at work, they would go see the doctor, and hopefully find out whether they were having another baby girl or a boy, like nayeon so wanted. even then, nayeon was taking too long doing basic things, and consequentially making jihyo slower.

jihyo had only just finished getting ready for work when jisoo, still in her pajamas and with her bunny plushie in hands, stopped jihyo from going downstairs to rush nayeon, slowing her down, mumbling something jihyo hardly understands with the biggest pout on her lips.

“slow down, bun. what do you want?” jihyo asks, her built up stress coming to a cease the moment her legs are being engulfed by jisoo’s arms, the grip tight, but jihyo didn’t mind the near abrupt approach from her baby.

“i want the kitty plushie!” jisoo sighs as she repeats her words, slightly annoyed when she isn’t understood, letting one of her arms detach from jihyo’s leg to show her the bunny plushie. “his friend.”

it’s a cat plushie jisoo asks for, jihyo knows.

where exactly that could be was a good question, but jihyo’s major guess was that the plushie jisoo looked for was in the attic, along with another few. jisoo was usually gifted with too many toys, some of which jihyo kept, knowing she might want them later, but others were donated after a while — jihyo hopes that the cat plushie wasn’t one of those.

“i can find that for you later,” jihyo palms jisoo’s cheek, squeezing it softly, caringly, but jisoo’s pout becomes even bigger. jihyo sighs. “do you need it now?”

jisoo nods. “wanna take the kitty outside too.”

making nayeon find it instead of doing it when she was already late for work would’ve been a smarter decision, that is if nayeon was able to find anything — she could barely find her own clothes in the closet, therefore jihyo strongly doubted she’d find jisoo’s plushie among plenty other toys.

while jisoo makes her way downstairs to rush nayeon with the breakfast on jihyo’s behalf, jihyo makes her way to the attic, hoping it wouldn’t take longer than five minutes to find jisoo’s toy. jihyo is relieved to find the place still clean, but the cat food on the ground next to the big container where they kept it indicated that nayeon had been there.

“messy,” jihyo sighs, swiftly making her way to the shelves.

there are toys there, all inside clear boxes, but there were no signs of jisoo’s cat being there. jihyo finds nothing on the shelves, but when she’s about to put one of the boxes back in place, she notices a cardboard box right next to it.

jihyo doesn’t remember seeing that there before — she certainly hadn’t placed it there. it was heavy, heavier than what nayeon would allow jihyo to lift while being pregnant, but jihyo couldn’t help but be curious of its contents. she fetches a pair of scissors, the only thing sharp she could find there, and opens the box carefully, leaving it on the ground.

“oh,” jihyo gasps, surprised with what she found. for some reason, her cheeks became warm instantly, and jihyo almost closed the box again.

those were the last things jihyo imagined she’d find there — a few letters from nayeon, multiple polaroids of them together and almost all of the gifts nayeon had given her in their teenage years. what grabs jihyo’s attention is a bunny plushie, blue like jisoo’s, almost the same. jihyo vividly remembers the day nayeon gave that to her.

even though jihyo was the youngest between them, nayeon had always been shy, reluctant even, to speak to her. that was before they started dating, of course, as the both of them could hardly look at each other without being met with a strong color on their cheeks, sheepish and deeply flustered.

during that time, they communicated through actions. it was the only way they could interact without embarrassing themselves, so nayeon developed a habit of giving jihyo small gifts, doing it religiously every friday, because that’s when she would usually meet jihyo while hanging out with their friends.

“yuck.”

the sound comes from either jeongyeon or momo, jihyo doesn’t know exactly who was the one already teasing her, but still she rolls her eyes, turning her face to the side, attempting to hide her red cheeks as she hears the couple’s annoying chatter.

“justin bieber?” momo asks, teasing the youngest of them. “i didn’t know jihyo liked this kind of music.”

jihyo crosses her arms, making a stern face that was anything but scary to her older friends. “unnie likes him. now shut up.”

“do we really have to listen to this if she’s not here yet? come on,” jeongyeon sighs, strongly against listening to the artist’s album. “she won’t stop liking you if you’re not his fan! you know nayeon-”

“unnie!” jihyo whines at the mention of nayeon liking her, her eyes barely meeting jeongyeon’s or momo’s, instantly getting up from the couch. “you really deserve each other.” she huffs pettily, leaving them alone in the living room, grumpy as she mumbled a pair of impolite words, ignoring their fake apologies and the teasing cooing that came with them.

it wasn’t any special date, but instead of giving jihyo the usual flowers or the cute, small toys that she’d find in random stores and immediately get for jihyo, in hopes of confessing to her (and despite knowing she would fail again), nayeon uses her savings to buy a delicate bunny plushie that cost perhaps more than it should. but it was worth it if it was for jihyo.

when nayeon arrives at jeongyeon’s, jihyo is doing homework upstairs, using jeongyeon’s room like it was hers, all because that was all that was left for her to do if she didn’t want to be a third wheel for jeongyeon and momo. the couple was preparing the popcorn for the movie they would watch together, telling nayeon where jihyo is even before greeting her properly.

“your little girlfriend woke up in the wrong side of the bed,” jeongyeon laughs. “be careful, nayeonie.”

“maybe you’re both just annoying,” nayeon replies, suddenly not interested on staying next to them now that she knew where jihyo was. “don’t burn our popcorn!”

“she doesn’t even deny that she’s her girlfriend anymore,” momo comments once nayeon leaves, tucking her head in jeongyeon’s neck, hugging her from behind while jeongyeon waits for the corn to start popping. “our girls are growing fast.”

jeongyeon laughs softly. “nayeon is older than you, silly.”

“sometimes she is.” momo mumbles, voice muffled against jeongyeon’s neck.

in jeongyeon’s room, jihyo and nayeon are hugging awkwardly — not because being close to each other was awkward, but because they never greeted like that. for some reason, instead of a saying the regular, shy ‘hi’, nayeon hugs jihyo the moment jihyo opens the door for her, only then giving the smaller girl a hello.

“i have something for you,” nayeon says, handing jihyo a small, cutely decorated cardboard box. out of anxiousness, nayeon resorts to being a coward again. “b-but only open it when you get home!”

once more, there goes her chance to confess to jihyo.

jihyo closes the box instantly when the memory hits her.

she remembers it perfectly, how she could barely speak to nayeon without her voice coming out shakily, how she trembled when nayeon hugged her, how mortified she felt when nayeon pointed out that she was blushing — they were a mess back then, and jihyo still felt embarrassed when she thought about those times.

the plushie came with a short, but sweet message. opening the box again, jihyo searches for it, eager to know what younger nayeon was doing to get her to fall in love for her, as if jihyo didn’t already know who she had fallen for and why. knowing exactly what to expect, jihyo retrieves a polaroid picture from the box.

in the picture, nayeon was smiling with the plushie next to her face, as if confirming that she looked like the bunny, because jihyo would tell her that a lot. behind it, nayeon had written a few words for jihyo.

“hey, kiddo

jihyo laughs right at the first sentence. “kiddo? why would she call me that…”

you keep saying i look like a bunny, so i decided to get one for you.

yoo jeongyeon may or may not have told me you like sleeping with plushies. i figured you would like this one! ><

from: your pretty unnie

ps.: i saw you took your braces off. you were pretty with them, but even prettier without <3”

“no.” jihyo whines at the mention of her braces. “alright, that’s enough.”

placing the items back into the box, jihyo ignores the urge to go through all of the things inside it. she was more than late for work, and if a short message from nayeon already made her feel shy like the teen she used to be, reading full letters would make her situation even worse. and jihyo didn’t have the time for that.

she finds jisoo’s cat in a cabinet, along with other plushies, and then she makes her way downstairs with the toy in one hand and a bag hanging on her shoulder. if not for her pregnancy, she would definitely skip breakfast, far too late for work, but the baby inside of her was hungry — and nayeon wouldn’t allow her to go out without eating.

“there you go, bun.” jihyo kisses the top of jisoo’s head, placing the plushie on the table. she sits next to nayeon, leaving her bag on a chair, ready to leave as soon as she finished eating. “nayeon, when did you get that box?”

“the one in the attic?” nayeon asks, handing jihyo the honey, knowing she’d ask for it. “your mom gave it to me last week, when i was picking jisoo up from your parents’ house. she even scolded me a little because i gave you too many gifts back then…” she pouts as she speaks.

“and i loved all of them, don’t mind her,” jihyo reassures, kissing nayeon’s cheek softly, headache long forgotten. at least for a brief moment. nayeon still made her late for work, and she’d face the consequences later.

nayeon smiles. “i know. remember when you used to sleep with that bun-”

“i don’t remember anything.” jihyo looks to her plate. “so this is why you took so long making pancakes?”

nayeon hums, looking at her impeccable art displayed on the pancake. “uh-huh. bunny shaped for the baby girl, kitty shaped for the pretty wife.”

neither of them notice jisoo had excused herself from the table, sick of her parents’ antics, to eat with bbuyo on the couch.

to: im nayeon

nayeonie, get food for bbuyo on your way here.

the container is almost empty.

don’t forget!

“unnie, i think we are done.” yeji says, rather shy after making jihyo show up for work when she wasn’t supposed to for her own mistake. “you only have to sign here and i’ll take these to miss bae.”

“you don’t have to be so nervous,” jihyo offers her a kind smile. “we all make mistakes. i should have read before i signed those papers. as your supervisor, i made a mistake as well.”

“thank you.” yeji says. rather than blabbering about jihyo being the perfect supervisor and how she was the only one in the wrong, she keeps her mouth shut, knowing she would embarrass herself if she tried to praise her superior again — she knew that from experience.

“joohyun won’t be mad,” jihyo continues. “we delayed the deal, but she’s my friend. she won’t mind. don’t blame yourself too much.”

yeji waits patiently as jihyo reads the document handed to her, letting out a relieved breath when jihyo finally signs the papers, knowing she didn’t make any mistakes then. jihyo checks the time on a watch adorning her wrist, eyes falling on yeji again once she knows she won’t be late for her appointment.

“unnie, can i ask you something?” yeji calls, already making a question.

jihyo nods, taking her glasses off after she finished giving the documents a final read. “go ahead.”

“isn’t it weird to carry a baby?” yeji asks, shoulders losing their tautness, as if she had been dying to make that question. jihyo wants to laugh at how fussy she is about it, seeming curious but, in a way, disgusted with the thought of having a baby inside of herself. “like, it is growing inside of you… doesn’t it freak you out?!”

jihyo never forgets yeji is hardly an adult — she was clearly very young, trying to be mature and competent as an employee, but sometimes it became too obvious that yeji was just a kid. the way she speaks to jihyo makes her laugh softly, knowing she wasn’t speaking to her intern yeji, but rather the barely 20 years old yeji.

“when i found out i was carrying jisoo, yes. it did freak me out.” jihyo replies. “but now it’s just normal, until they start kicking. that is a little weird.”

a sound indicating that she was receiving a notification reaches jihyo’s ears, making her grab her phone instantly, knowing there was a possibility of it being nayeon. and it was.

from: im nayeon

hyo would you be mad if i got a bnuy

???

bunny*

soo saw them at the pet shop. they’re cute :(

at a random pet shop, nayeon sees jisoo standing a foot or two away from the bunnies available for adoption. she had stopped there on her way to pick jihyo up at work, right when she got the message that they were out of cat food. as those were domesticated bunnies, nayeon had no excuse to tell jisoo they couldn’t have it or that she should stay far from them.

from: wife <3

what? absolutely not, im nayeon.

taking care of a cat and a kid is already hard enough.

we don’t have time or the necessary things to own a rabbit.

jihyo’s headache comes back instantly, knowing, from the way nayeon was texting her, everything that would happen the moment she got in the car with nayeon and jisoo. jisoo would be mad and nayeon would try to make things better, but jihyo would feel like a bad mom for not allowing her kid to have more pets.

yeji excuses herself, feeling slightly intimidated by jihyo’s sudden stern face, but jihyo isn’t upset with her, so she thanks yeji for her work with the softest tone she could manage out.

from: im nayeon

i know, but we could have one still

bbuyo needs a friend

cats need company from other pets :(

“look, mama, there are baby cats too!” jisoo grabs nayeon by her coat, dragging her to another session of the pet store.

from: wife <3

no, nayeon.

we have talked about this already.

i’m free now. come pick me up. don’t forget bbuyo’s food.

just like jihyo had imagined, jisoo keeps quiet in the backseat, with a pout on her face because, once again, jihyo deprived her from having more pets.

it’s not like bbuyo wasn’t enough, but jisoo wanted more, which was natural for a kid of her age, who didn’t understand how hard keeping a pet was and how important it was to be truly available to take care of them properly, which jihyo and nayeon weren’t. especially because jihyo was pregnant again.

“how was your day with mama, soo?” jihyo asks, looking at the rearview to see jisoo, who held both of her plushies tightly.

jisoo’s pout remains intact. “good.”

nayeon knows she’s in trouble then. jihyo looks at her sharply, and despite keeping her eyes on the road, nayeon can feel the stare on her skin.

“what did you do together?” jihyo asks again, trying to fix the situation nayeon had created.

the question seems to lit jisoo’s face, much to nayeon’s relief. at least her daughter was doing some damage control when answering jihyo’s questions properly, without pretending she’s sleepy to avoid speaking to her or blatantly expressing her frustrations.

“mama took me to the park!” jisoo replies, rather excited for someone who was supposedly upset. “we ate cotton candy and there was a train ride too!”

“is that so, bun?” jihyo seems to relax and so does nayeon — jisoo was upset, but, for a reason jihyo didn’t know and wasn’t going to question at all, she was quickly overcoming it. “did you enjoy the ride?”

“uh-huh.” jisoo nods, her plushies pressed tightly against herself. jihyo was sure that the bunny’s ear would fall off any time, as jisoo kept holding it by its ears.

giving jisoo space, jihyo’s attention goes back to nayeon. she was angry, very much so, because nayeon could’ve bought bbuyo’s food at any other store, easily avoiding pet shops that way. still, that day was supposed to be a happy day, and jihyo wouldn’t allow nayeon’s lack of basic thinking ruin it for them.

“do you think we’ll really find out today?” jihyo asks, instinctively placing her hand over her growing belly.

nayeon hums. “we just need to hope they won’t be crossing their legs this time.”

“come in,” the doctor says. “oh my god, this princess grew a lot.”

jisoo becomes shy when the attention falls on her, even if the only “stranger” in the room was the doctor, and hides behind jihyo’s legs.

the middle aged woman wasn’t a total stranger, as she took care of jisoo’s health until she was about a year. despite jihyo and nayeon having a pediatrician of their trust, the doctor who took care of jihyo during her pregnancy would always be the most reliable one, so whenever they needed help, the obstetrician would be the first one they would call.

“a lot? she’s so small for her age, like her mommy.” nayeon jokes, making both jihyo and jisoo look at her with a piercing gaze. she clears her throat. “uh… w-we’re here to find out if the other princess- or prince is doing well!”

“alright,” the doctor laughs. “you already know what to do, jihyo.”

jisoo sits quietly on a couch, attentively watching everything that was being done to her mommy, scared of the doctor for jihyo, as her mothers didn’t seem scared at all. someone had to be scared for them, so jisoo plays a ‘guard dog’ role, getting distracted by her plushies from time to time, but still taking care of her mommy from not so far away.

nayeon stands anxiously next to jihyo, who is lying down and wincing at the cold gel being applied on her tummy.

“good news,” the doctor says. “the baby is not crossing their legs. do you want to know…”

“it’s a girl, isn’t it?!” nayeon nearly squeals, interrupting the doctor because she knew the answer in her heart.

it wasn’t bad luck per se, as nayeon would love them regardless of anything, but she feels like, because she wanted a different experience with a boy and expressed it so often, she would definitely get another baby girl.

perhaps she was fated to have girls only. at least nayeon thought so, because, deep down, something told her she would never have boys with jihyo. she was even relieved to a certain extent, because although nayeon wanted a boy, she thinks she would go insane with a kid like one of jeongyeon and momo’s twins living with them.

“please,” jihyo answers the doctor properly. “we came here for that.”

“well…” the doctor analyzes the screen carefully. “nayeon is correct. she is a healthy girl.”

the ride home is mostly silent — jisoo doesn’t talk, because she has a lot to think about now that she knew she was going to be a big sister to a girl, and jihyo doesn’t say anything because she’s tired.

it’s only when they’re having dinner that jihyo lets out a sentence with more than three words.

“jisoo,” she starts. “do you know why mommy won’t let you have more pets yet?”

nayeon pretends she’s not listening because she knows jihyo isn’t only scolding jisoo, but also her. of course jihyo would never call nayeon out in front of jisoo when it came to things like that, so what jihyo said was only really directed to jisoo, but nayeon knew she was in the wrong there.

jisoo sticks her bottom lip out, playing with her food. “no.”

even if jisoo doesn’t say it, jihyo knows jisoo sees her as the strict mom and nayeon as the cool mom. it’s something that truly bothered her, because nayeon was permissive while she was only being careful. jisoo didn’t understand such things, so her immediate reaction was thinking jihyo was simply being stern.

“having pets makes you responsible for another life,” jihyo says, in a soft tone, not wanting to sound harsh. “it’s not easy to take care of an animal. you see, bbuyo is our responsibility, mama and i take care of his needs, isn’t that so?”

jisoo nods, earning a head bump on her foot hanging off the chair from bbuyo. “uh-huh.”

“once you grow up, you will also do that,” jihyo resumes her speech. “and only when i’m sure you can take care of him, i’ll let you have another cat. even a bunny, if that’s the case.”

there is always a but when jihyo has serious conversations with jisoo, but this time jisoo understands jihyo’s reasons, so it never comes out. she’s clearly sad — ‘growing up’ before getting another pet meant more waiting, but because nayeon had previously talked to her about being patient with her pregnant mommy, jisoo admits defeat.

curiously, it seems she’s momentarily no longer the baby of that house, but jihyo instead, because both jisoo and nayeon were watching over her.

“i understand, mommy.” jisoo mumbles, not even needing jihyo to ask her if she had been clear. “i’ll wait.”

when she’s ready to sit on the bed and read a book before sleeping, nayeon is handed a pillow and a blanket.

“you’re not sleeping here tonight, im nayeon.” jihyo says, assertive with her decision.

nayeon had asked for it — jihyo has forgiven her way too many times for going over her choices on raising jisoo, which gave jisoo reasons to think jihyo was too harsh. too strict. this time, jihyo punishes nayeon by making her sleep on the couch, or anywhere that wasn’t next to her.

“but baby, i’ve already said i’m sorry!” nayeon whines, being pushed out of the room. she allows jihyo to kick her out, not trying to fight back, knowing she was in the wrong.

“you keep making jisoo think i’m the bad guy,” jihyo huffs. “because of you, i become the bad, cruel mom who won’t let her daughter have cute pets. or fill herself with candy until she throws up. or sleep without taking a shower before!”

“that only happened one time…” nayeon mutters. jihyo holds onto the handle of the door, ready to close it right on nayeon’s face. “wait, hyo! don’t be mad, i’ll make up for it! i can become the scary mom… look,” she clears her throat. “no, jisoo! don’t grab that flower pot, you might let it break!”

nayeon’s impression of her fails to make jihyo convinced to let her sleep inside, but manages to make her even angrier.

“i’m not scary,” jihyo’s lips quiver with sheer irritation. “and i don’t speak like that, dumbass. good night, im nayeon!”

the door closes, but nayeon keeps standing in front of it. perhaps she shouldn’t have tried to be funny, but jihyo was scary giving the fact that she hadn’t spoken to nayeon normally since morning, only when it was necessary, so nayeon had to break the ice somehow.

“hyo,” nayeon calls, hugging her cold pillow and blanket. “are you still there?”

jihyo rolls her eyes. “where else could i be, im nayeon?”

“right.” nayeon smiles. “i love you. and our baby girl. sleep well, hyo. if you feel cold, turn on the heater. i… i’m sorry.” she says, voice coated with nothing but genuine affection. “i, uh… i’ll leave now. good-”

nayeon is surprised by jihyo opening the door again, jumping into her arms suddenly. she barely has time to understand what is happening but accepts the kiss, dropping her pillow to pass her arms around jihyo’s waist instead. the kiss is soft just the same amount it is abrupt and hurried, and nayeon almost falls trying to, unpreparedly, support jihyo’s weight over her.

when jihyo pulls back, nayeon sighs, already missing her lips.

“by the way, you didn’t deserve this. this one was for me,” jihyo explains, before she leaves nayeon alone once again.

nayeon has two options then.

she could 1) sleep on the couch, in that lonely, cold living room, that would feel way bigger than it was without anyone there with her, or 2) squeeze herself in jisoo’s bed and sleep with her, leaving bbuyo without a job for the night.

the second option is what nayeon chooses, of course, cuddling jisoo the entire night, even when bbuyo had complained and meowed in protest.

#nayeon #jihyo #nahyo #domestic!nahyo #sfw #non rq #there might be more typos than usual #i'm too sleepy to proofread this

[cecedownbad]

TOUCH

Summary: Leon got a temporary partner, he wasn't keen on it yet why did you look at him like like that? Why did your touches leave him falling apart? [Leon X GN!reader]

Warning: No Y/N, slightly suggestive, this was self indulgent, I made Leon a softie but also not *wink*

Word count: 1.9k

I wrote this right after I got all the achievements for RE4R, I'm so down bad. Pictured ID Leon for this one. [Put the MDNI tag after editing, Listen kids don't be reading things you aren't supposed to.]

Enjoy

A rare occurrence this was, where the independent agent would be assigned a partner to work with. He didn't welcome the idea but upon insistence from high authority, it was something that required no refusal. To the other however, you were not new to the concept but had other reasons for finding it difficult to work with another. Just this moment however, the idea didn't seem so bad, not when the man crouched before you had features meant to be carved on statues.

"Do you mind if I..." Admiring the soft strands that covered Leon's eye, you grazed a few to catch a glimpse of those baby blues, those eyes that seemed to shift at the softest contact with light. Oh what a dream they were but the other could only flinch at your touch. "—What do you think you're doing?" The question left his mouth hastily, the brush of your fingertips had him startled enough to sound like he could have raised the weapon in hand to your throat. But what should have scared you, only made you want to gaze further but the situation around had sent its own hints that were hard to avoid, so with hesitance, you retract your hand and place it by your side, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine, let's get this over with." This wasn't meant to be complicated. Leon had his own share of grueling missions, ones that he'd imagined that he'd never return from. So, why was it that information retrieval required a party of two, one of which already seemed distracted, by their partner no less. "They're moving out, I'll take this exit, you take the one on the east end. Go." He instructed, you truly were distracted. Following his orders was easy, but the way his voice sounded so rich, the gruff undertones left you waiting for what else he could say, a second look from him gave a clear idea that it was all you would hear.

With a nod, leaving the area, you'd trace every corner of the building, inspecting any unusual anomaly that laid before you, clearing hallways as you pass by. It wasn't any different on Leon's end, though there was one anomaly that couldn't seem to dissipate, it was the slight warm touch of your fingers by his cheek. He'd been entranced by that way your eyes would gaze at every bit of his face, all the indentations had been marked. His awareness of this wasn't something outlandish, he knew that few found him attractive but the stare that you'd left him with screamed something so raw.

Taking his thoughts, he rubbed away your phantom touch and dragged on with his mission at hand, the one thing he should be focused on. "Helios coming in, I have spotted hostiles at the exit gates, waiting for your approach Condor one." The static grated through Leon's comms, leaving any hesitation behind, he answered, "Copy, keep eyes on the hostiles."

Leon made it by your side shortly after, with total silence weighing over you, this was the opportune moment to take down the guards. Taking a final look at your gear and checking your handgun, the time to slip away had arrived and with the help of your support operative, a vehicle with an armed driver was provided. The question still rested, why was it that two agents were required for this mission, either one of you could have retrieved the information. And with that still lurking at the corner of your mind, subtle glances at Leon were made.

Curiosity took ahold of the question that popped up, along the way the question was lost to the farthest reaches. The car had been silent along the way, not even the radio could overtake the hold it had but the silence opened the gates of your fleeting observations to run wild and with that, so did your senseless curiosity. The man next to you had been gazing out the window, his hand rested on the side of his neck, with his elbow placed on the car door. The light from the window had blanketed him with such vivid beauty, almost as if it embraced him. The clothes that he wore were simple, dawning nothing more than a jacket and a dark shirt on the inside.

Unlike before, you'd try and make your glances more discreet but really, how could that be possible when his very frame looked as though it was meant to be painted, as if he was the only source to study. Your eyes were caught by his, Leon didn't make do with ignorance this time, "Do you enjoy staring at people that much?" His tone was not contempt, in fact his question was rather genuine with its details and all he wanted was an answer from his temporary 'aid'. "I'm sorry, I just—I really did not mean to make you—"

"You keep looking like I'm the last thing alive, I'm...curious, why?" His back turned away from the window, the rays now outlining his figure gently. The answer to that question was so obvious, it almost poured out a second later. So you answer, an ounce of hesitation now whisked away, "Because, I find you...beautiful." it slipped out with ease that it caught you off guard at the departure.

"Beautiful? Listen, I'm not up for insults."

"No, I find you beautiful, I can't help but stare." He'd never seen someone face him with such words in conviction, as if nothing could phase the fact. You raise your hand to his face, the action - slow but you never felt so light, "May I?" A question that sounded so desperate, he responded by shutting his eyes, accepting your touch.

Tenderly your palm rested on his face, soothing his skin with your thumb. He didn't seem to mind, no, he didn't mind at all. He once refused the touch of any other, after all, the pain knew nothing more than the soft warm touch of another now. Leon didn't refuse, he couldn't turn away, your hand caressed his cheek, slowly parting his hair from his eyes like before.

The sensation no longer makes him flinch but want. That scared him, he couldn't believe that he'd crave the touch of another in such a way he could've lost himself. No, he shouldn't want any more but oh, the way you'd gaze at him, the way your eyes followed all his indentations, he lost himself in your hands.

It didn't go past you, you noticed it as well. You retracted your hand, it hurt you but the sudden loss had Leon peering at you. All you did was caress his face yet he seemed to have wanted more but that led to the two recording their surroundings. The vehicle had reached its destination, you thanked the driver and hoped to all the constellations that the glass divider between the driver and passenger seat gave away little of what was exchanged before.

As such came your formalities, this was where you'd expected to part ways with Leon, the two of you report to different authorities afterall. You contact your support operative and file in the report at your desk.

"It went well I assume, no slip ups?" The woman sat before in the desk eyed your files. Her glasses rode all the way down to her nose. "Yes, working with Leon Kennedy made it a much smoother retrieval. I do have a question though." You needed to ask, that one recurring question, "Since you did well and I have some time, go on." She accepted the query.

"Why were both Leon and I assigned to this? When we got there, the place could have been easily swept by either me or Leon alone." It wasn't daunting in any way, a simple query but the woman furrowed her brow and peered at you with rather tense eyes. "It was an order from someone else, we had expected the location to be more guarded, it was good that it wasn't."

It barely answered anything, but you accepted it, walking out the office and returning to your very own. When you would have expected to be alone with your thoughts, you see a surprising figure at your desk, it was Leon. "Hey, I'm guessing you just finished with your report?" He asked.

"Yeah, did you...want to ask me something?" You eyed the way he'd been leaning on your desk, had he been waiting here a while? That rested on your mind and the thought didn't bring any discomfort. He looked down from where he stood, but his eyes met you just as fast,

"Back there, I..."

".....back there you? Hm?"

"I didn't—I didn't hate what happened, I have something to ask you, how long have you been, watching?"

"Huh? oh no, I never tailed you or anything, I just looked from afar. Believe me, I wasn't stalking you or—" His question caught you off balance, this time it did bother you, causing profuse apologies slipping out but he caught you from spewing any further. As your eyes darted away, trying your best to focus on anything but him. Though that went all up in flames since he placed his hand at the back of your head, making you look directly at him, "Look at me, I'm right in front of you." Leon wasn't harsh with any of his movements, that tilt was only meant to make you look at him in your fluster but this had gotten you to go quiet.

It was his turn to mark your every feature, he could never miss a thing at this set up. "You really know how to get to me." He pressed his thumb to your lips, running over them both, parting them softly. His eyes were trained on you, as though you were the only one there. Leon's eyes fell from your eyes to your mouth and landed on your hands, which he grabbed, taking it up to eye level. He placed your hands over his lips, grazing them softly against it. Your stomach rolled for miles at this point, his actions were captivating and it made you scream all sorts of profanities that your mind could make up.

"Look at you, I shouldn't make you wait any longer." Oh he knew what he was doing. How could that very man who looked as though he could have fallen apart by touch alone be standing before you, locked in place, holding both your hands together, like a cuff. "O-okay, uhm, I need to get back to work, I'm guessing so do you, can I go now? Please?" Your plea was practically begging, you didn't hate any of this but it didn't make your heart grow any quieter. He let out a small laugh, as though he'd triumphed, won an achievement no one said he could. He let go of your hands, relieving you of the hold.

You seated yourself right after, clearing your throat to dissipate any other unwanted thoughts. Expecting to see him walk out of your office, you waited but he didn't, instead he turned your chair to face him, your eyes landing on his chest before looking up at him.

"I'll see you later."

The words were so simple yet he left you by grazing your face. The soft touch similar to the one you both exchanged.

He left you wanting more.

#This was only proofread now so thats why I had to add tags now #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 remake #re4r #leon s kennedy x gn reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #this was so self indulgent. #me being down bad as usual #i hope you guys liked it though #resident evil x reader #no y/n #resident evil infinite darkness #leon kennedy infinite darkness #resident evil 4 #re4 #cece is down bad #re2 #minors dni

[imliterallyellie]

just saw your post about wanting prompts 👀 how about something sweet and fluffy (feel free to add smut if you wanna though, cause lord knows i’d never reject it) featuring ellie with a reader whose top love languages are acts of service and/or gift-giving? maybe reader knits her something super soft? or anything along those lines. thank you bby MWAH 💕

is this thing on? 🎤

you give ellie a gift on your first date

a/n short... and sweet... but cut me some slack. my first bit of writing since my exams, i need to get back into it!!!!

your first date with ellie had been amazing so far. the picnic you had assembled with all of her favorite things was great. it was the perfect occasion to enjoy each other, some food, drinks and the final bits of sunshine that fall was shining upon your town. ellie looked great. she always did, but it was clear that she put effort in her outfit today. a new-ish looking cream colored tank top with a brown flannel draped over it, paired with black cargo pants and her – as always – worn-out black converse. she looked good, very good even. her hair was still a bit damp. you thought it was cute, and you swore that she had cut it a bit shorter since the last time you saw her.

after a couple of hours soaking in her company and the rays of sunshine you decided it was best to start heading back. it was getting rather dark, so ellie was adamant on walking you home. you talked about everything and nothing, just enjoying the last couple moments you had with her before you had to call an end to your day together. you arrived back home and opened your door, but remained on the doorstep to say goodbye to ellie first.

“i had a real fun time, y’know. i guess you’re not that bad after all.” you rolled your eyes and shook your head, placing the picnic basket that you had been carrying on your way back between your legs. you sigh exaggeratedly before playing along. “you’re insatiable, ellie williams. is this how you thank a girl for taking you out on a date and preparing a picnic basket for you?” she looked down and tried to hide the little blush that crept up her neck at your words.

you flicked her ear, “i’m just kidding, loser. you’re not that bad either i guess- oh! before i forget… stay here for a second.”

you rushed upstairs to your room, rummaging around in your desk drawers to see where you had left the little present you made ellie. you had recently been getting into crocheting and took the hint when ellie sent you a video of someone making a crochet dinosaur. it aligned perfectly with your gift-giving love language, you were happiest when you could make someone else happy by giving them something.

you finally found the little dinosaur in your bottom drawer underneath some shirts, probably having thrown it there to make sure she wouldn’t find it if she ever opened that drawer. you walked back down the stairs and opened the door again, now facing your date with one hand held behind your back.

“what’ya got there?” “a surprise, close your eyes and put your hands in front of you.”

that’s what ellie did, she seemed a bit skeptical at first but did so nonetheless, and you placed the little dinosaur in her hands. “okay, it’s not much, but you’ve made it rather clear that you wanted this. open your eyes, els.”

“shut up, this is so fucking cute y/n.” the wide smile that crept on her face was worth all the hours you put into the little animal. while she was thoroughly inspecting the little green dinosaur, you couldn’t help but notice how soft her lips looked. they were slightly chapped, as they always were, but still seemed so kissable. she was mumbling away about how you had done a good job with proportion but you weren’t invested in what she was saying.

“can i kiss you?” “hmm?” “i asked if i could kiss you, ellie.”

whatever nerdy dinosaur fact she was sharing now long forgotten, her arms pulling you in by your waist while yours circled around her neck. you leaned in closer, leaving the last couple inches for ellie to close.

you were right. despite being a little chapped, her lips were still incredibly soft. you moved in unison, your lips speaking a language that seemed to have been discovered the second they touched. ellie pulled you impossibly closer to her, soaking in your body warmth, until you had to pull away to catch your breath. 

you rested your forehead against hers, giggling softly when you realized you had just, finally, got to kiss your best friend. “you have no clue how long i have wanted to do this for, els.” she chuckled and pressed another kiss against your lips, addicted to the fluttering feel in her stomach.

“i better get going, mum expects me back for dinner. thank you for today y/n. thank you for the picnic and thank you for the dinosaur.” she points her finger between you two, “and thank you for this.”

your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you couldn’t care less. you pressed a couple more kisses against ellie’s lips before finally letting go of her, with the promise of seeing her at school tomorrow.

ellie loved the little dinosaur. she got home and immediately went up to her bedroom, placing the little green animal on her nightstand, next to the polaroid of you both at one of her football games last year.

she pressed a kiss on it’s head every night before she went to bed, feeling like she was also kissing a little bit of you goodnight.

photos: ultraviolentromantic/pinterest & cinemaconrad/pinterest (we are respectful in this house and we credit creators)

#not proofread as usual #is this thing on? #torlex speaking 🌿 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut

[updownlately]

but i’m scared (of what life without you’s like)

| leah williamson x reader | angst with a dash of hurt/comfort | 1.9k | a/n: got this req in today based of this fic from yesterday. was listening to 'how do i say goodbye' by dean lewis, and well, the stars aligned themselves. i tried to make this short but angsty so someone lmk if i was successful! anyways, happy reading 🫶 read part i. here

~~~

It’s a warm May day yet your blood runs cold.

You know football’s a physical sport, having been on the receiving end of brutal physicality many times.

Pushes, shoves, stud-up tackles, you’ve had your fair share of bruises to show for multiple ninety minutes of running around chasing a little sphere. 

Accidents happen, and you were very well aware. 

But accidents weren’t supposed to be like this.

Accidents weren’t supposed to be accidents.

Accidents weren’t supposed to involve stretchers immediately rushing to the field. 

Nor a silent crowd in a fully sold-out stadium. 

Swallowing hard, you helplessly felt your adrenaline kick in, body subconsciously sprinting faster than you’d ever ran before. 

Maybe you should’ve checked up on Leah after the blonde had taken the corner to the face. Maybe you should’ve been overbearing. Or looked into her eyes, so that you could’ve noticed the dazed look. 

You could’ve stuck around a second longer instead of running back on defence. 

You could have, you could have, you could have…but now you couldn’t.

There’s something about seeing an unmoving lump of limbs on the floor, especially of a loved one, chest tightening ever so cruelly, so painfully.

As you come to an abrupt stop beside Leah, you do your best to stay out of the medics' way. 

Your hands shake, eyes wide at the blood streaming down the side of her face, the gash above her eye nothing but a waterfall of red. 

You don’t realize it when the other girls reach you. 

You don’t feel it as Alessia gently wraps her arms around your waist, trying to gently usher you away.

You don’t move an inch though. You can’t. 

Your feet are rooted to the spot, eyes fixating on the way Leah’s chest isn’t moving up and down. 

She was supposed to be breathing heavily. She had to be. 

Sure she had insane fitness, but none of you on the team were yet at the point where seventy minutes of football didn’t feel tiresome- she surely wasn’t. 

So why wasn’t her chest moving up and down? Why wasn’t it in the steady rhythm that you loved to listen to when you’d cuddle up to her on late nights after a tiresome day. 

Why wasn’t her cheeky smile on her face? The consistent response of her ‘I’m fine’ she would mumble to you each and every time she took a hit or a particularly hard tackle. 

Why was she not up yet? 

It’s sometime between Lia stepping between you and your view of your girlfriend do you find your voice, panic and realization clear as you call for Leah. 

Once. 

Twice.

Then another time.

Yet no response.

You feel your own breathing pick up, blood rushing through your ears.

No.

No. No. No. No. NO. 

You don’t realize you’ve screamed the words out loud, teammates and opposing players alike sharing grim looks of sympathy as many of them turned away from the sight of the medics.

Doing your best to claw your way out of the striker's tight grasp, you fight Alessia, feet digging into the grass as you try to gain the momentum to be near the English skipper.

Each try though, left you more defeated, the blonde’s grip strong as the ground between you and Leah somehow only increased with each attempt. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. 

The words rattle in your brain as you see a stretcher in your vision, sounds of sirens ringing faintly, so far away yet so close. 

Begging Alessia to let you go, you put all your effort into breaking her hold on you, your hands trying to unlock her linked ones, the striker only pulling you back into her chest in retaliation, gentle murmurs being whispered into your ears.

Tears streaming down your face, heart in your stomach, throat sore from all your screaming, you watch in horror as the sea of medics slowly fade from your view, Leah’s cleats oddly the only thing left on the pitch- no trace of blood, of cleat marks, of the weight of the medical bag- the blonde gone without a trace.

Falling to your knees as Alessia finally let go of you, you curled into yourself, sobs wracking your body as your forehead hit the ground, your hands coming to cover your ears as you tried to block out the shrill noise of the ambulances. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. 

~~~

It’s the same words ringing in your head that has you jolting awake, you taking a deep inhale when you realize where you are, the familiar walls of your shared bedroom with Leah bringing you immediate comfort that has you slumping back into your pillow.

Feeling wetness on the fabric as you laid down, you realized you’d been crying in your sleep, your cheeks damp, forehead and body covered in a layer of swear as your shirt clung to you. 

Fear kicking in as you realized why you were awake at this ungodly hour, you whipped your head to the side, eyes adjusting to the darkness just enough for you to make out your girlfriend’s sprawled out form beside you.

Swallowing hard, the images from earlier haunting your mind, you held your breath as you tried to listen for Leah’s quiet breathing, unable to see her chest rising from the bundle of blankets she was buried beneath. 

She was awake, right?

Raising a shaking hand, you contemplated whether you should touch the blonde to soothe your worries. 

You didn’t want to bother Leah, well aware of just how long it took her to sleep tonight, the constant pounding in her head frustrating her more than she’d like to admit, only able to get her rest as her body slowly succumbed to the exhaustion of the day. 

Yet, with each second that passed, you got flashes of Leah lying face first in the graph, medics around her, the grass stained bright red, taunting you, teasing you as you wondered if you were imagining the breaths you were hearing. 

Heart pounding yet again, you wanted to be safe. Sorry didn’t seem like an option. 

Sorry wasn’t an option, not when it came to the love of your life.

Holding your breath, you tentatively reached out, hand shaking, moving mere millimetres every few seconds. 

You didn’t want to wake her, but you needed to feel that she was alright. 

Hand making gentle contact with the nape of the other girl’s neck, you froze as you felt her tense at your touch, muscles taut for a mere second before she relaxed into the feeling. 

Waiting a second for her to adapt to your slightly cooler touch, you softly traced the length of her spine, following the bony pattern down to the space between her shoulder blades, hand coming to a rest as your fingers splayed out, trying to maximize the contact you had with her. 

Feeling a sob of relief escape you as you felt Leah’s body move in time with her gentle breaths, you brought your other hand to cover your mouth, stifling the sound as you felt your chest wrack with the weight of the tension slowly dissipating. 

Doing your best not to move too much as your body shook, you wiped your tears with the hand covering your mouth, not yet ready to let go of your girlfriend, her mere physical presence providing you comfort you couldn’t ever express in words. 

Fabric of your sleep shirt tucked into your mouth as you held back shaky pants, you moved to lay on your side, needing to be able to see Leah before you’d feel your heart settle for the night.

You couldn’t lose her. You couldn’t afford to. Not now, and not ever.

Sunshine on your darkest days, the constant light at the end of the tunnel, the woman was your rock through thick and thin. 

She was the first person you’d ever truly trusted, and the last you ever would. 

She was cocky, over-confident, a cheeky tease, an energetic kid at heart. 

She was determined, loving, caring, attentive, respectful, thoughtful. 

She was the best thing you had and god did it terrify you that you could’ve lost her yesterday. 

A piece of your mind knew her injury wasn’t that serious, the lack of the blonde out-right fainting immediately a good sign, a comforting one really.

Yet, your heart still couldn't believe it, not yet at least. 

Letting your hand come to gently brush away the messy strands that had come to cover her face in her sleep, you let your thumb run over her eyebrow as you sighed gratefully. 

She was okay. 

She was here.

You repeated the words like a mantra in your head, trying to get your racing heard to settle.

Nodding to yourself as you tried to believe the statements, you bit the inside of your cheek as you felt Leah stir at your ministrations, your hand coming to an abrupt stop as she just barely opened an eye, taking a second to register that it was still late, nearly the middle of the night. 

Keeping your voice low as you watched her sleep-laden eyes briefly search yours, you resumed your earlier actions, hoping it would bring the blonde the same level of comfort if brought you.

“Go to sleep, yeah? I’ve got you. You’re safe….”

Feeling Leah sleepily nod at your quiet words, you felt your heart melt as she sluggishly pulled herself towards your body, a blonde mop coming to rest on your chest as she curled around your side, an arm coming to wrap around your waist as she held on tightly. 

“Love you…” 

The words were muffled, being mumbled into the cotton of the old t-shirt you’d stolen from the defender eons ago, yet you heard them clear as day.

“I love you too…so so so much…”

Your words were hoarse, but in her sleepy state Leah didn’t notice and you couldn't help but be glad.

Placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head, your lips lingering for a second, you inhaled deeply, trying to commit the easing restlessness in your body to memory, the weight of the blonde on your chest bringing you the reassurance you so desperately craved, the pair of you breathing in tandem as sleep overtook her again, content in the solace that your arms around her form brought.

You didn’t want to worry about what life would be like without the blonde, and thankfully, you didn’t have to. 

Here, with her on your chest, small breaths puffing against the arms you held her close with, you let your worries fall away, lump in your throat easing rapidly with each second. 

She was okay. 

She was okay and here in your arms.

She was okay, and so you were okay- and you couldn’t thank the universe enough for either of the two. 

And so with sleep beginning to creep up on you, you wiped the last few tears of relief away with the back of your hand, finally truly believing the words.

It would all eventually be okay- all of it- just as long as she was here with you.

#not proofread as usual #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #my writing #fic #hurt/comfort #angst #bis #sytibo

[canarybell]

“Crowley suggesting to Shax that he might be the one to cast ‘a miracle only the mightiest of archangels could've performed' is a hint he was an archangel before” is a very popular idea, and I can see why. However, I think, a few things should be noted:

As far as Shax knows, Crowley, no matter what kind of angel he was before The Fall, inexplicably survived a bath full of holy water, and he specifically said after it: “If he can do this, I wonder what else he can do?".  In her head, Crowley does possess some unknown powers, which are not necessarily tied to his former status in angelic hierarchy; and in theory these powers might be able to produce such a miracle. We don’t really know how much about Hell’s trial Aziraphale told Crowley, but he definitely knows about the holy water trick, so it would makes sense if his bluff was based on it.

However, Shax didn’t really believed Crowley about it. She immediately started to make threats, spied on a bookshop, didn’t even wondered what that miracle could have been for….doesn’t look like somebody who was convinced by that lie even for a second.

Heaven on the other hand… no, they didn’t really believed Aziraphale in that he did that miracle either. But they didn’t dismiss it. Saraqael could mock Aziraphale however they wanted - but they sent an angel to check, and in episode five archangels did ask Muriel what they learned about the miracle, suggesting that Aziraphale could indeed have performed it somehow (even if ‘Gabriel did it’ was more plausible). Which…actually makes sense too – he also allegedly survived his execution, so the possibility that he holds more power that he lets on is here for him as much as it is here for Crowley.

So, I don’t think this particular moment proves anything - aside from the fact that at the beginning of S2 both Aziraphale and Crowley assumed that their little body switch trick would convince both Heaven and Hell they have a lot more to offer.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens theory #not really a theory but it deals with one #I'm not saying anything about other parts of 'Crowley was an archangel' theory - just about this one argument #(this isn't proofread so it might have even more mistakes than usual) #(why english is so hard)

[trobeds]

hey if i wrote about the gay knights would u read it.............................

edit: i wrote about the gay knights

#this isnt one of my usual empty promises i actually have a 3k word fic in my docs rn being proofread #goldenheart #im actually so normal about them (lie) #🫀 #anyways im planning to drop it sometime today so if ur interested pls give it a read !! #nimona

[nyaagolor]

🔥Klapollo would NEVER happen like people want it to.

First of all, Apollo never has time to figure out his sexuality. He's too obsessed with law and too oblivious about himself. He's probably gay and homophobic and has no idea about either since they aren't on the fucking bar exam. Klavier could hit him with a straight-up BRICK of "I'm in love with you" and Apollo would be like "damn quit making fun of me. I have to do the WAA taxes on unpaid overtime : /" and leave that pathetic cheeto man to the wolves of the paparazzi. It's a hilarious one-sided pining like some high school romcom

Context: this is part of an ask game where people send me an ask with a flame in it either giving me a hot take to react to or asking me for a hot take on a particular topic. I started it months ago and then forgot about it but I'm clearing out my askbox

Klapollo is a rom-comedy-of-errors. Imagine having a crush on Apollo Justice and then getting rejected. Klavier is in his own personal hell. Maybe he loves Apollo because he can see his own reflection on the attorney's shiny billboard of a forehead. Who knows. Not I. I'm here bc I think their pre-get-together interactions are uproariously funny and I love watching Klavier Gavin, world famous prosecutor and rockstar, absolutely fumble the world's worst bag. Go girl! Give us nothing

#mod vex #ask #no main tags bc this is very silly and also I have a fever so I'm not proofreading anything like usual

[siover]

i may be just gasping at straws here but there is something just. so insane about how the nature of kendall and shiv’s relationship is somewhat cannibalistic. like shiv spitting in his drink and kendall drinking it anyway and the ‘i love you but i cannot fucking stomach you’ and the idea of kendall being the sacrificial lamb in 2x10 + shiv’s ‘can’t eat’ . like the whole consumption aspect of it all.. just wondering if you had any thoughts on it i suppose!!

YES very true. the kitchen scene is a callback to their childhood in more ways than one--it reflects the siblings' relationship with each other and with food and how they're linked (dyou remember the summer of competitive eating disorders:)). its notable that only shiv and kendall say they're hungry despite none of them having eaten dinner, and that kendall is the only one who ends up eating anything. roman licks the cheese as a joke, passes the ingredients to shiv, who actually blends the discordant foods together, and together they feed kendall this drink that is definitely terrible for him. siblings ! no but i do think its an unsubtle metaphor but it works ! kendalls position as the heir has always relied on roman being the weaker dog bolstering his position, on shiv being the baby who will never get it bc shes a girl. and if he wont drink the rest, they'll drench him with it, turn his own promised position against him in jealousy and self interest and a mistaken notion of love

and shiv spitting in it was very much foreshadowing, yeah. i liked how it was a callback to her spitting in kendalls notebook after the "rape me/i'm not the only one," incident during her speech--it was a childish act then, and its one now, and it shows how any attempts at enmity or solidarity come from the same place of shared abuse, of seeing someone better than you see yourself and punishing them for the traits you share. kendall drinking it again reflects how his position will never be untinged by shivs simultaneous understanding as well as animosity. mirror traps real

the way this all relates to the characters' relationships with food is also ofc very interesting. roman doesnt eat at all, he denies his body and sees it as evidence of his failure to be logan's son. he never wanted ceo, it couldn't have been him, dad's death cements the impossibility of the love he craved by which proximity to the ceo position was made valuable at all. shiv admitted she was starving but never ate anything, only asked her mom if there was food. she brings up food only as a move, only as something that can serve her, because to acknowledge it otherwise would be weakness. ofc this is reflective of her relationship with power, and love--she'll bring it up first so she's noted as being aware of the cards at play without showing her hand. but she never actually gets it because when she's said the quiet part out loud, voiced her ambition, there's nothing stopping the quiet parts of her weaknesses in this world from being consumed i.e. her womanhood :) in the end all she can do is acknowledge the fact of her starvation, and spit into the poisonous food bowl while still hungry.

ofc its kendalls bowl she's spitting into. he sees food as fuel, as something that gets him where he needs to go, but never actually enjoys it, and sees such enjoyment as juvenile--we're not at buckley anymore--but his firm belief in rationality and health corresponding to awareness means its another step to the ideal position that doesn't really exist. at the end of the day he will drink the concoction because he considers himself stronger for it. i did a fucking year in shangai, i'm ready, etc

ultimately this is reflected in their choices in the endings. roman says yes first then retracts with shiv. i think hes the one who says shiv has no stomach for admin which is like, him pinning the decision to support kendall as well as the consideration to kill him onto shiv lol. SHIV doesnt have the stomach for admin, and SHIV cannot stomach kendall, and it comes down to the same thing--shiv shutting kendall out bc she's never been able to digest his choices. this DOES relate to pierce ofc and logan throwing up at the breakfast and ultimately waystar being a declining corporation that could never have eaten up pierce. do you see what im saying do you see how it makes sense from this angle that shiv was the only one who ended up still "in," even if only as the ceo's wife. shiv being unable to stomach kendall is the final nail in the coffin--its acceptance of this fact. of the death of waystar, and by extension logan. anyway i keep thinking about how when they all trooped into the kitchen, wet through, kids again, there was never really any real food in the fridge :)

#shiv roy #kendall roy #roman roy #machinery #usually i would just tag this sibs but its not really abt them as siblings more abt them individually rip. organized blog at what cost #hopefully this makes sense lmao i rehashed some stuff but truly the kitchen scene is one of my favs and not just bc theyre having fun <3 #i barely touched the surface when it came to pierce waystar being eaten etc etc but i hope the connections r clear. girls when METAPHORS #anyway. ty for the ask i enjoyed answering this <33 #sorry it got so long lol i could go on honestly theres aspects i missed #answered #did not proofread btw so if you see spelling errors etc no you dont <3