#fuck it not proofread

[updownlately]

i like it when you hug me (‘cause i kind of feel you love me)

| leah williamson x reader | trigger warning for mentions of depression and self-loathing. please read at your own discretion!

~~~

“Hey…”

The voice echoing through the room had you burrowing yourself impossibly deeper into your comforter, nearly hiding your face beneath the blanket- the light peeking in from the hallway very much unwelcome in the dark room. 

Shaking your head, you let out a shaky breath, quickly running your sleeve over your botched face, wiping it in case the quilt was moved away from you.

Stilling your movements, you listened carefully, on alert as Leah’s hesitant footsteps headed closer to the bed- closer to you.

With each subsequent step, you found yourself wishing she hadn’t entered the room at all and the self-aware part of you felt a pang of guilt bloom from your chest, mentally chastising yourself for being so selfish. 

Please don’t care about me. Please just turn and leave.

You swallowed hard as the voices in your head spoke, eyes widening as you felt the bed dip. Curling in on yourself and shuffling backwards, you buried yourself further into the sheets. 

Right now, all you wanted to be was alone. The kind of alone where your phone doesn’t make a sound, even though your ringer’s on blast. The alone where your door doesn’t move, not by a single millimetre, because no one’s coming in but you. The alone where it’s heartbreakingly lonely, achingly so, but you can’t think of a single person to call. You just wanted to be alone. 

Holding your breath as the blonde neared your lumpy form, you waited cautiously for her next move- body on alert, ready to move further back at the slightest of touch.

You weren’t you right now and she most definitely didn’t need to witness that first hand- it was already embarrassing enough that you were hiding out in your shared bedroom all day, avoiding your girlfriend like the bubonic plague.

Lips moving but no sound coming out, you mouthed a silent plea to the universe, begging that she didn’t come closer. You didn’t know how badly you’d break if she did- and you didn’t want to find out.

Unluckily Luckily for you, almost as if your silent prayers were heard, Leah didn’t reach out for you, hand staying firmly put in the space between.

Smiling sadly to yourself, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at her lack of touch, hand itching to pull her close, devil on your shoulder telling you to push her so far she forgot she was your home.

Taking a silent shuddering breath, pleading for the assault of thoughts in your head to go away, you did your best to be quiet. You tried your hardest not to acknowledge her presence, instead hoping she’d go soon enough. She didn’t need to be around you when you were like this. No one did. No one deserved that. 

Quietly praying she’d leave you be, that she’d make this easy on you, you slowly moved your hand to wipe it on the bottom of your hoodie, hands sweating nervously. 

I’m asleep. You can go. I’m perfectly fine.

The words you wanted to say but couldn’t- the lump in your throat holding you back.

Rather, you waited patiently for her to make a move, one that hopefully got you out of this situation without too many cruel words said, in your mind or elsewhere. 

Unfortunately for you, regardless of the absolute pitch-black darkness in your room, Leah caught the movement, softly speaking when she realised you were most definitely awake. 

“How we feeling about dinner?”

You stayed quiet at her words, hoping she’d convince herself you were asleep and leave.

You let the uncomfortable silence rest in your bones, its familiar presence a comfort.

You didn’t deserve to be taken care of. Especially not after how you’d hidden yourself away in your shared bedroom all day- ignoring Leah, the skipper being nothing if not understanding, letting you be as you pulled away. You didn’t deserve it and your brain did a hell of a job reminding you so. 

Pity’s what brought her here- a clear look at you and she’ll run.

The long silence that accompanied the voice in your head was uncomfortable but you were used to it.

Taking small breaths to not make a sound, you felt your chest tighten with each passing second that she stayed.

I don’t want you here. I don’t want you here. Not for me but because you deserve better.

The words repeated in your head as your heart constricted, tired of you and wanting to be wrapped around your lover’s arms as much as you wanted her to go away. 

It seemed like Leah knew as much, her shuffling closer to you and you could soon tell she was lying on the bed beside you.

“I know you’re awake…”

Her whispered words had your body tensing, any hope that you had of her leaving washing away as your leg vibrated restlessly.

You felt her gently tug on the edge of your quilt and you contemplated resisting, wanting to tuck yourself away in a cocoon but not being able to bring yourself to do so, guilt resting heavy on your shoulders.

Instead you slowly gave in to the skipper’s prodding, wincing as the cool air of the room hit you, reddened eyes and blotchy cheeks making themselves known in the dim light.

Shutting your eyes closed as her face came into view, you tried to shake the image of her pitiful gaze from your mind. 

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better than me. 

The words continued to repeat, an echo in your otherwise silent mind.

You shouldn’t love me. You shouldn’t love me. You shouldn’t love me. You should leave.

Clenching your jaw, you missed the way Leah’s face softened at your clear distress. 

She knew your mental health wasn’t the best, but she never got to witness just how poor it really got- not until now at least.

The way you had sluggishly left your bed nearly two hours after your alarm this morning- how you had hid from her all day, not bothering to have anything more than a few spoonfuls of yogurt for breakfast, completely foregoing lunch, and now, quite possibly dinner. The signs were clear, you weren’t fine.

You weren’t okay, not one bit, but if Leah had anything to say on it, she ached to tell you it was okay. 

It was okay to not be you today, not when she was here, you didn’t have to run and hide. 

But she couldn’t tell you right now, not with the way you barely met her gaze, head tucked in the crook of your elbow, tear-stricken cheeks just barely hidden, body tense.

So instead she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, moving the arm on your face to the side as her hands travelled to your torso. 

Tugging gently, the blonde pulled you into her embrace, hands coming to wrap around your midsection as you complied, tucking yourself into her side, too tired to protest. 

If words weren’t what you wanted to hear, then she’d speak to you with her touch. 

Continuing her efforts, you let out a small sigh as her hand came to smooth your messy hair, scratching your scalp gently, just how she would when she’d comfort you after a tough loss. 

The ministrations coupled with the faint touch of her rubbing circles on your back, and you could feel your body relax, gears in your mind beginning to slow as your hands shyly made their way to grab fistfuls of her hoodie, not wanting the comfort to leave- not wanting her to leave.

Surprised at the Englishwoman’s actions, you burrowed your face into the crook of her neck as you felt the knot around your heart loosen just a tad bit, a grateful breath escaping you.

You sunk into her grasp as you ignored the dying voices yelling in your head, your weight rest wholly on top of the midfielder's body, back muscles going slack as you let her warmth break through the iciness plaguing you.

Thank you for staying, for being patient, for caring.

The words went unspoken whilst you waited as the rock in your throat to slowly shrink.

And as a minute passed and then two, her grasp on you only getting stronger, more assuring, you couldn't help be grateful.

All your unsaid words from earlier finally had the chance to be spoken now, chest light, speech coming easy. 

Letting yourself snuggle into Leah’s hold, feeling her place a soft kiss on your crown, you finally had a breath of comfort, nearly crying in relief.

Though the voices in your head didn’t quite disappear, she made living a bit easier, the simple act of breathing no longer a chore.

It’s why your murmured words finally came easy, heart floating, your grip tightening in adoration.

“I love you.”

#fuck it not proofread #based on the song half hearted by we three #s/o to the one person from the poll that listens to we three! :D #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso community #my writing #blurb #iliwyhm #hurt/comfort

[daisynik7]

Nanami is super into fucking you with his watch on. 

He’ll strip himself completely nude except for his wrist, his fingers massaging your puffy clit until you’re whining against him, already on the brink of an orgasm just from that. He checks the minute hand on his watch, taking a mental note on when you first climax. It’s a fun little challenge he sets for himself: how many times can he make you come within fifteen minutes? Half an hour? A full hour? Sometimes, he takes guesses, and most of the time, he’s right. And when he's wrong, it’s because he makes you come more than he expects you to. Tonight is one of those times. 

He's relentless with his fingers, stroking your pussy up and down, in and out, coated in your arousal. He loves playing with your swollen bud, flicking it until you’re squirming from overstimulation. The slick that gushes out of you is so pretty, all shiny and glossy for him. So inviting for a taste. But no; he’ll resist until he can make you come once more from his fingers. Get you completely soaked so it’s juicy for his mouth. He knows just how much you love coming with his soft lips puckered around your clit, his tongue lapping at your greedy cunt, gaping and desperate to be filled with his cock. By the time thirty minutes pass, you’ve come twice from his fingers, and thrice from his mouth, eating you out sloppily until your limbs feel shaky, body spent but still so needy for him. 

When he finally puts his dick inside you, he uses his watch for another purpose: to edge you so that you can fucking squirt all over him. He pounds into your tight pussy from behind, slamming his hips against your ass, marveling at the way it jiggles with each thrust. You’re moaning from the pleasure, completely fucked out. You want to come again so badly, but he won’t let you. “Not yet,” he growls, turning his wrist to inspect the time. “Be a good girl for ten more minutes, okay? Hold it for me sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

And of course you will, because he’s so encouraging, so sweet, so fucking big inside you, filling you to the brim. When the ten minutes is almost up, he reaches around you, toying with your sensitive clit. You whine, twitching from the sensation, head buried into the pillow, damp with sweat and drool. He leans over you, breath hot on your ear, whispering, “That’s it, honey. Let it all out for me. Make a fucking mess.” 

So you do, spraying him in your juices, spilling onto the sheets below you. He absolutely loves it, seeing you so filthy like this. It’s just what he needs to reach his own orgasm, the one he’s been building up since an hour ago, continuously on the brink ever since your first climax. He comes inside you, stuffing you full of his creamy load only to watch it dribble out slowly as soon as he pulls out. 

His watch is soaked in your essence, but that’s alright. In fact, it’s exactly what he wanted. 

#mdni banner by @/cafekitsune #nanami smut #nanami drabble #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami #HELP #I'm so fucking feral for him #I should be asleep but I'm doing this instead LOL #barely proofread so sorry for any typos or errors

[brookheimer]

not sure why people don't seem to understand that shiv being the victim of misogyny and vitriol from all the men in her life can and does coexist with the fact that she is not a feminist liberal hero fighting to save democracy. why is it that we never afford her any nuance? she's either the only good person on the show and deserves to kill every man in a ten foot radius (twitter) or a uniquely evil cruel sociopath with no heart fueled entirely by spite (reddit). is it not just so much more interesting for her to be a fascism aiding and abetting character like the rest of them who also views herself as more progressive in spite of everything else about her and who undergoes horrific treatment at the hands of the men around her yet has no interest in undoing the system that allows them to do so, only in ruling it herself? shiv is not any better than the others nor is she any worse than them. there's no Evil Olympics here guys, nor should there be. snook said it herself in the after credits sequence -- shiv was just lucky that her interests aligned with her sympathies. who knows what she would've done had mencken been her best personal option? yes she cares infinitely more about politics than roman, yes she is still very much interested in maintaining the capitalist, fascist structure and even strengthening it, so long as it ends with her on top (which either way would be a win for liberal causes bc Woman). fascism isn't one-size-fits-all. it's not just mencken and trump. it's also mattson. it's also logan. it's also roman and shiv and kendall. that's... kind of one of the main points of succession? but even so, that does not negate the fact that as a woman it is so hard to watch some of the scenes with her and tom/roman/kendall -- of course that misogyny will resonate with female viewers, as it should!!! but that resonance needs to coexist with a deeper understanding of her character -- if you want to root for a bad bitch fighting against misogyny go watch, i don't know, captain marvel or whatever. what makes shiv interesting is that she's so so so much more than that -- she is the product, victim, and perpetrator of misogyny and fascism, two concepts so heavily intertwined they're virtually inextricable from each other. tl;dr it's one thing to be like my god someone give shiv a gun and it's another entirely to say, entirely seriously, that shiv is the Good Liberal Feminist One and the rest are all evil. like i absolutely adore shiv but i would honest to god find her so fucking boring if she were actually the person these tweets make her out to be i'm sorry

#me: shiv isn't evil! \ everyone: oh so she's the only good one? #me: shiv isn't good! \ everyone: oh so she's the only evil one? #NUANCE GUYS. IT EXISTS. #honestly i just don't get it. how are you all not just like bored by the versions of these characters you've created #all this being said. every man that called shiv hysterical tonight should be shot and killed. #<3 #succession #succession spoilers #casey shut the fuck up about shiv roy #shiv roy #long post #100 #500 #1000 #dude if i thought this would get notes i would’ve proofread it first. LMAO #like this is literally a word vomit ramble that i didn’t even read before posting . embarrassing 4 me #this time on posts i didn’t expect to get notes

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — it's getting harder to hold off on bakugou or based on this excerpt

࿄ ! warnings - corruption? fingering. nsfw. / note. this was very highly anticpated lol :} ty guys! minors& blank blogs dni.

you’ve never really enjoyed sex. while that’s not really taboo to say as a woman (considering the vast & massive orgasm gap) you think you might as well give up at this point.

most guys that you’ve met are selfish and egotistical, in nature and in sexual prospects. they overrate their sexual experience, licking at a nipple slightly before plunging into your walls without a care for any telltale signs of arousal. was sex supposed to be painful and dry? either way, you were not interested in trying to disprove that hypothesis anymore. swearing to abstinence made more sense than try to fuck your way through a dry spell. nuh uh. never again.

when you start dating katsuki, you realise you can’t hold off on not doing the deed any longer. your boyfriend is an attractive, adonis of a man and the sexual tension is through the high angled roof of his penthouse whenever you come over to his place.

however it becomes every time, every single time, in which you deny his advances, push away at the brush of his pouty lips against your jaw, wriggling away from his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants, cutting off every passionate kiss with a pull of your teeth despite the damp spot that grows on your cotton panties. katsuki paid no mind to it at the beginning of your relationship; chalking it up to jitters and shyness.

but it gets to when you’re both in his bed together and it’s currently the furthest base you both have gotten to in regards to sexual endeavours. katsuki’s tongue delves deeper into your mouth and he uses an arm to wrap a leg around his waist. it’s only then when the gravity of the situation hits you. you panic and katsuki can feel you stiffening up.

katsuki pulls apart from the kiss and the hurt of the constant rejections is apparent through the furrow of his gold blond brows and the slight, dejected frown stretched across his lips.

“i get it,” katsuki huffs, breaking apart from your hold to get up and leave.

you panic again, and this time your heart sinks at the thought of katsuki leaving because of your constant shot downs and you sit up to pull him back down but the man is fast and he’s practically hulk so you decide on running in front of him to stop him.

you know you should’ve explained this to him before to prevent all of this stupid confusion but it’s embarrassing; the idea that you’ve never gotten off through sex even though you’re the furthest thing from a virgin. and even if you told him this half baked story, what would change? would he be any different from the others?

looking up at the red irises that bore into you so deeply and expectantly, you sigh. you finally tell him why you’ve been so avoidant to his advances with an indignant, worried wave of your hands, “it’s not you, it’s me”, and ,“i’ve never orgasmed through penetrative stimulation.”

katsuki raises a brow and you have to cover your face to hide the blooming pink spreading across your face when you tell him that “sex has just never been enjoyable for me… ‘m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

much to your surprise, you feel two hands pull at your waist before pulling your hands down off your face and the blond above you is smirking, so deliciously that your thighs subconsciously rub against it each other to prevent the ache that’s growing between them.

it’s also how you found yourself sat opposite his bedroom mirror, leaning against his bed with spread legs and with your back pressed against katsuki’s bare chest and your hands resting on his muscled forearms. all of your clothes are somewhere strewn across his bedroom - honestly, you can’t even care to remember, with the way your boyfriend has two fingers angled and dipped inside your dripping cunt.

it’s so noisy and so wet, and you should be flustered by it but with every squelch of his fingers dragging along the walls of your pussy, he brushes against that soft, cakey spot inside you and you’re already spasming. is this the third? the fourth? you don’t know how many times you’ve creamed all over his thick fingers and you can’t bring yourself to even look at the mess you’re definitely making.

but you can hear, no, feel how turned on katsuki is behind you. to think he’s the first man to ever make you feel this good, to make you orgasm so many times that you’re delirious with pleasure? he was going to ruin you so that whenever you were out and about without him, you’d think of him pressing his thumb languidly against your clit while he added another finger to stretch you out, to barrage an attack against the gooey spot inside your cunt until you couldn’t take it anymore.

katsuki drags his thumb off your clit to pinch at your nipple and to grab softly at your jaw so that you could see what he was doing to you in the mirror. the constant ministrations already have you hurtling towards another climax, if the erratic movements and heady gush of your cunt had anything to tell him.

“jus’ like that, princess,” he coos, “how about one more f’me? then i’ll give you my cock. how’s that sound, pretty girl?”

your bleary, wet eyes blink up at him and you weakly nod, as if you’re in a trance and katsuki chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before moving his fingers again.

he really was going to be the death of you.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

#then he folds you in half and fucks you silly yay #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕ #✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕ #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki. #not proofread oops #moominsuki™ #bakugou imagine #bakugo smut

[aq2003]

doctor who said hahah yeah we're gonna make the tenth doctor a guy that gets so deeply and utterly attached to the people around him and one by one he watches them leave and it drives him to a complete breakdown as he gets his heart broken over and over again and keeps causing harm to those around him and then finally he has a conversation where someone tells him that they want him to live actually, that he's a wonderful person and he needs to make the decision to save his own life along with the rest of humanity's. and then when the battle is over and for the first time in so long he laughs with real relief and joy that he's alive and that he's happy that he's alive, he has to sacrifice himself for the person that gave him that reason for living back. he dies alone and scared and desperate to cling onto the love that shaped his identity and the pain that resulted from it. And all i have to say on this is that i need to strangle rtd with my bare hands

#rohan don't look. #in case #you want #to watch #this stupid #show #dr who #tenth doctor #im not proofreading this post i need to fucking die #edit: hello rohan if you are seeing this post. congratulations #EDIT 2: STRANGLING CANCELLED !!!!! CHECK THE NEWEST RB OF THIS POST. THANK YOU RTD THANK YOU FOURTEEN AHHHHHHHHHHHH

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Wanna know why I don't like Peter B.?

Because when Gwen was actively forced into homelessness in front of him, he literally didn't help at all. And then it gets framed on JESS.

Gwen asks for help. And Peter says this:

Jess asks him to stop talking.

And from this moment forward, Peter makes no effort whatsoever to help Gwen.

Mind you. This is AFTER Miles' escape. After the whole 'shocked Peter' gif. Peter knows Miguel is willing to get violent.

But that line is his only attempt to help.

Even as he watches Gwen be fully restrained and physically forced into the machine. He stands there and watches.

He doesn't try to web her. He doesn't try to stop the machine or talk to Miguel. He stands there in silence. Watching Gwen get sent home to a universe he knows she is homeless in.

And the movie just lets him. Despite the fact he's known Gwen longer than anybody in this room.

Instead, Jess is the only mentor at fault. We're told to blame her.

During this scene we never pan to Peter, standing there literally motionless as Gwen gets dragged away. He's not panicking, or trying to talk Miguel out of it. We're just expected to absolve him of blame.

It's Jess' fault. Jess is her 'failed mentor' - despite the fact that Peter has known Gwen longer, is shown to have a better relationship with her, and we're given no reason as to why he wasn't her mentor to begin with.

Jess says this, and we're supposed to judge her for it. While Peter said nothing at all. At most he made a joke and then shut up when he was told.

Jess might've believed she couldn't help Gwen - but what was Peter's excuse? Standing there and watching this happen? He doesn't feel the need to do anything, say anything, or even leave the room.

For him, watching this is fine. And Gwen NEVER confronts him about it.

We're not supposed to blame Peter for letting Miles and Gwen down, repeatedly.

Even when Gwen is being physically forced into homelessness in front of him.

We're told to blame the black woman when the white man who has known Gwen longer literally stands beside Jess motionless.

Had Hobie not left Gwen the watch - We're left to assume that Peter would've just... let her be homeless in her dimension.

He watched her get sent home, said nothing, then went home to his wife and kid to ponder whether or not he was a bad mentor.

Not if Gwen was okay. Or whether he should go check on her????

That's NOT OKAY???!!!! THAT'S TERRIBLE!!!!!!! And this is the man we're supposed to be routing for? This, the dude who shows NO signs he was even gonna go and check on Gwen? The dude who lets child abuse go down in front of him TWICE and he just stands there blinking? That's our Peter Parker?

And I'm supposed to be thrilled to have him on the team??? Despite the fact Gwen had to come TO HIM. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND???? Gwen doesn't see a problem with that?????

I'm supposed to be happy he's here? Forreal???

Oh joy. Thank you so much, Humbling Reality Spider-man. We love you.

I hate Peter B. ALL MY HOBIES HATE PETER B. (Not a typo)

#no proofread lol #Peter B watching child abuse be like '🧍🏻‍♂️' #fuck peter b. #ALL MY HOBIES HATE PETER B #Peter parker #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderverse #gwen stacy #Miles Morales #spiderman #spider man #spider gwen #ghost spider #spidergwen #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #jessica drew #jess drew #spiderman 2099

[mo-mode]

OKAY BUT DO YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THE PJO BOOKS ARE cuz I really hope that this tv series becomes a jumping off point for kids with ADHD and dyslexia and other ND stuff to finally find a book series they love, not just because I loved it myself but because ND kids deserve to fall in love with books!!!

My brother is a genius, super smart guy I am so proud of him every single day, but he was always so behind in school because his dyslexia went undiagnosed for ages (my whole family’s dyslexic but his is the worst case by far) and compared to me who was a complete book worm my whole life, he had NOTHING to love in books because every time he read them, he just struggled over and over again. He had given up on books, learning, everything because no books spoke to him and made him WANT to keep trying. Jump cut to me introducing him to the PJO book series!! I was probably ranting about them because I was just an AuDHD girlie hyperfixating and I don’t even remember how I convinced him to read it but you know what happened when DID start reading it??? HE NEVER STOPPED! THAT HAD NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE AND IT WAS SO EXCITING FOR MY FAMILY (MY MOM IS LITERALLY A READING SPECIALIST FOR KIDS SHE WAS SO FUCKING STOKED) THAT THEY GOT HIM THE PJO BOX SET FOR CHRISTMAS AND THAT IS THE MOST WELL-LOVED, YELLOW-PAGED, FALLING APART AT THE SEAMS BOX SET IN OUR HOUSE FULL OF BOOKS BECAUSE MY BROTHER AND I KEEP READING THEM!!!!

I WANT THE SAME FOR THIS NEW GENERATION OF KIDS!! I WANT SOME OF THESE GEN ALPHA BABIES TO STUMBLE UPON THE SHOW, WATCH IT, PICK UP THE BOOKS, AND HAVE A COME TO JESUS MOMENT JUST LIKE MY BROTHER DID BECAUSE THAT’S WHY THEY’RE SO IMPORTANT!!! BECAUSE THERE IS A BOOK SERIES (SEVERAL EVEN) THAT SPEAKS SO WELL TO THE KIDS THAT HAVE GIVEN UP ON LISTENING

anyway here’s to the anniversary of getting our PJO box set, Merry Christmas :)

#my brother is an AMAZING architect student now #I’m so fucking proud of him #I also helped him proofread his college essay about how much he loves the PJO books #gen alpha is going to have such an amazing book series to read #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson the lightning thief #percy jackson tv show #pjo disney+ #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #pjoverse

[loguetowns]

the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back. 

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh. 

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around. 

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day. 

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?” 

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath. 

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

 “silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession. 

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there. 

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?” 

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart. 

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying. 

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #zoro fluff #one piece x reader #¡! ❞ [ fics ] #i know i just wrote a zoro fic BUT #this fic has been stuck in my drafts for too mf long #i didn't even proofread the epilogue bc fuck it #i just need her to go out into the world ok #i promise i will write non-zoro stuff soon #(maybe) #(jk i will)

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#jeno x you #lee jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream sc #nct dream scenarios #nct sce #nct scenarios #jeno x reader #nct drabbles #nct au #jeno au #this is not proofread btw fuck it we ball!!!

[waitingonher]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ korra and her love languages

i. korra whose love language is physical touch. korra whose love language is physical touch because she finds solace in the warmth of your touch. 

if she could, korra would spend the rest of her life like this, with you nestled in her arms as the sun rises to paint republic city in hues of oranges and pinks. there’s nothing like waking up to a beautiful girl next to a beautiful sunrise. korra lays there silently, playing with a strand of your hair. 

in about an hour, she has to carry the weight of the avatar, but right now in this quiet corner of the world, korra wants nothing more than to just be ‘(y/n)’s girlfriend.’ and so she does. 

her eyes roam over your figure, drinking it all in. how did i get so lucky? from your cascading hair, to your plump lips, to your soft hands that just seem to flawlessy fit in her own, korra never knew it was possible to be this perfect. all her life people have only seen her as just the avatar, but you were the first to see her as just korra. you were the first to treat her as if she wasn’t some expendable end all be all to the world's problems. 

“(y/n),” korra starts, the back of her hand grazing your cheek. her voice is barely above a whisper, “i know i don’t say it as much as i should, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i love you so much and i-”

beep. beep. beep.

“stupid alarm.” she mutters, reaching to shut it off.  

with a soft groan, your eyes flutter open slowly, the warmth of korra's touch lingering on your skin. as consciousness filters in, you feel the strong arms of your girlfriend pulling you close. 

“good morning, baby,” she whispers, placing gentle kisses on your forehead. 

with a contented sigh, you gaze up at korra, smoothing out her tousled hair, “mm, good morning.” 

she chuckles at your groggy voice before placing a final kiss on your crown. making efforts to rise from her position, she untangles herself from the bedsheets, “i’ll get the tea going. we’ve got a busy day ahead of us,” she sighs. 

“korra,” you draw out her name. reaching for her arm, you gently tug on the sleeve of her pajamas, a silent plea for her to stay, “please my love, stay. ten more minutes?” 

you flash her your signature puppydog eyes, your lips pulled downwards, eyes widened. and as easily as that, korra’s resolve falters. how can she say no to you? especially when you look so beautiful, your tired eyes looking up at her so sweetly and your open arms inviting her back to the comfort of your touch. 

“well…” she gives you that saccharine smile you’ve always been fond of, and that’s when you know you’ve got her, “i guess the world can wait another hour for their avatar.” 

and she climbs back into bed.

ii. korra whose love language is quality time. korra whose love language is quality time because amongst all of her avatar duties, she'll always want to come home to you.

the arctic hen sizzles beautifully on the pan as you take in the fragrant aroma of the kitchen. it’s savory from the arctic hen, yet delicately sweet from the cookies in the oven. you dance around, tending to the sea prune stew and seaweed stir fry. checking the clock, it reads 6:46pm, serving as a gentle reminder of korra’s anticipated return by 7:00pm. 

everything is perfect. 

after all, it is korra’s birthday. it has to be perfect. 

you begin plating everything, attempting to replicate the elegant plating from a mover that you had watched over the weekend. a little smear of sauce. some accent dots. and finally…seaweed flakes for garnish. clapping your hands together, you take a step back from the dining room table, admiring your hard work. as if on cue, you hear the front door slide open. 

“babe, i’m home! wow it smells really go-”

“happy birthday, my love!" you exclaim, catching korra off guard as you dash over and envelop her in a tight embrace. stepping back slightly, you tenderly sweep a stray lock of hair behind her ear, your eyes overflowing with affection. leaning in once more, you share a deep, heartfelt kiss, your whispered words carrying the weight of your emotions. "i love you so much, korra.”

she swears she’ll never get used to you doing that, her rapid heartbeat a testament to that. korra chuckles, her hands finding purchase on your waist, “i love you too. now, what smells so good?” 

her gaze wanders the kitchen, taking in the familiar sights, as you gently grasp her hands, guiding her toward the dining room. as korra enters, a gasp escapes her lips, and she feels a rush of emotion at the sight before her. the table is adorned with an array of dishes, each one a cherished memory from her childhood, meticulously prepared with love.

with a sheepish smile, you guide her to the two wooden chairs at the table, “now i know it’s not a lot. but i asked your mom for the recipes so i hope you like-”

korra shuts you up with a kiss. her hands again find their way to your hips, holding you. and by the look in her eyes, you know that she's been needing this. korra knows she’s never exactly been the best with words, so she hopes you understand what she’s trying to say, “(y/n), it’s perfect.” 

you lean into her side, a sigh of relief escaping you, “oh good, i was so worried you’d hate it.” 

your girlfriend turns to you, an expression of disbelief painted on her face, “what? babe, i’d love it even if you were a bad cook.” 

“what about the time i burned the seal jerky?”

“okay maybe that’s the exception. how do you even burn jerky?” 

“hey! you were distracting me!”

iii. korra whose love language is acts of service. korra whose love language is acts of service because when she’s not out there saving the world, she’s making sure her baby is taken care of. 

if there were a competition for the worst worst day ever, today’s events would take the cake. first, you and korra totally overslept, thus causing you to be late to your crucial work meeting. after a solid ten minutes of your boss’s scolding, of course, your coworker just had to call out sick, and just like that, you had to complete his portion of the work project. oh and for the cherry on top, your favorite lunch spot was inexplicably closed. 

today was not your day, you conclude. 

with a heavy heart, you trudge homeward, with nothing but your bothersome chores in mind. fold the laundry, dust the shelves, reorganize the desk…each task more dismaying than the last.

unlocking the front door, your ears are met with the quiet melody of an upbeat jazz tune. that’s strange. there’s never really music playing unless you’re home. then you’re greeted by naga, her gargantuan head nuzzling your side. and it’s even stranger, usually korra’s the first to welcome you home, “naga,” you stroke the top of her head, white fur as fluffy as always, “where’s korra?” 

the polar bear dog offers you a hushed bark as her nose points you to your shared bedroom, “thanks girl.” 

you find the door closed, the music resonating softly from the room. as the door swings open, you’re met with korra precariously balancing on her tippytoes, diligently dusting the shelves. the rest of the room seems to be spotless, the laundry basket empty and your desk absolutely pristine. 

“korra?”

at the sound of your voice, your girlfriend whirls around, almost surprised, “(y/n)! hi! you’re home early.” 

you chuckle, her crooked smile on display, “yeah, i spilled stew on my pants so i got to go home,” you gesture to the brown stain on your thigh, “but wait, wasn’t i supposed to do all of this? you only had to do the dishes and clean the bathrooms.”

“yeah, i know,” she lilts. korra’s grin widens as she hops down from the wooden stool, meeting you where you stand. her hands come up to rest on your waist and she plants a sweet kiss on your lips, “but i did them all anyways.” 

your astonishment quickly melts into gratitude. maybe today isn’t as bad as you had thought, “but…but when did you even have the time? didn’t you have to meet with the city council?” 

korra nods, savoring your reaction, “mhm, but they cancelled, so i came home and got a head start on everything. and plus, i wanted you to come home and not have to do anything for once. i know how much stress your work has been putting on you recently.” 

as you stand there, taking in the scene before you, another wave of gratitude washes over you. tears begin to well in your eyes, a floodgate opened by the weight of the day's trials and tribulations, mingling with a profound sense of appreciation for your girlfriend. korra knows all too well what you’re feeling—what it's like when the dam breaks. once more, she pulls you into her tight embrace, sturdy arms enclosing your waist.

“i’m sorry,” you begin, attempting to hold your tears back. korra gives you a sympathetic smile, “i’m happy, i promise. it’s just…everything today was such a big mess. so, thank you.” 

“it’s no biggie, babe,” korra states, her hands gingerly wiping away your tears. she places a soft kiss on each tear stained cheek before taking hold of your hand, leading you out to the living room, “bolin’s new mover is out. wanna give it a watch?” 

#yay first korra fic #also not proofread at all help #fuck it we ball #the legend of korra #korra x reader #korra x y/n #korra x you #the legend of korra x reader #avatar korra #korra #tlok korra #tlok #tlok fic

[updownlately]

how could i ever (treat my baby that way)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 4.7k | inspo: never keeping secrets by babyface | a/n: got this ask a long ass time ago and it's finally gone somewhere. this is part one to a two part fic! (read part ii here)

~~~

You’d think that between the chilly air coming out of the air conditioning in the room and the freezing cold drink in your hand that you’d be comfortably cool, body not overheating despite being in a slightly crowded bar. 

You hoped that would be the case, just like it had been many times before. Yet, the way your body was burning right now contrasted your prayers, unusual for you, yet not surprising given the circumstances.

You knew you were pissed, could nearly feel the steam coming out of your own ears before your emotions could even make themselves known. It sucked, having to accept your fate, letting yourself get more and more agitated at the sight in front of you, hand tightening on your glass, fingertips white. But that’s all you could do, invisible rope holding you back, keeping your hands tied, the artist no other than the one you loved.

Letting your eyes drift over to the blonde, your blonde, in the middle of the dance floor, your jaw tightened. 

You knew she was yours, the two of you having been together for over a year now. You knew she was yours, your apartment being the one she resided in the most. You knew she was yours, ‘I love you’s’ whispered in the mingled breathes you shared late into the night. You knew she was yours. So why didn’t it feel like it?

Your unwavering gaze, almost like two laser beams, focused on your girlfriend, mentally begging her to look your way, to see the hurt in your eyes.

Taking a deep breath to try (and fail) to calm yourself down, you quickly downed the rest of your drink, thankful to have gone the sober route tonight. You didn’t know what drunk you would’ve done in all this hurt, and you surely didn’t want to find out.

Contemplating whether you should swim your way through the sea of people to the bar, you waited. You waited, and waited, and waited, pleading to the universe that she would meet your eyes.

She didn’t look. 

Not a single glance was sent your way.

She didn’t care. 

Shaking your head, anger quickly turning into disappointment, then sadness, you stepped out of where you were in the corner, having preferred to stay back by the booth as the rest of the girls enjoyed their night. 

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yourself a water, hoping it would soothe the ache in your chest. 

Downing half of it as soon as the bartender passed it to you, you turned, eyes once again finding purchase on your girlfriend subconsciously.

You watched as she danced with the Chelsea player unashamedly, almost proudly, as if she didn’t have a girlfriend to go home to at the end of the night.

Naive and infatuated, you had never bothered to consider the difference between private and secret back when the idea was suggested to you. Now? Now you utterly resented the distinction between the two words.

Feeling the hair on the back on your neck rising however, you blinked out of your thoughts, quickly zoning back into real life, scanning the room for the cause before ocean eyes met yours. 

Leah.

The blonde was finally looking right at you, the girl in front of her continuing to dance in close proximity, her eyes closed- too gone with the music, to notice her distracted partner.

Raising an eyebrow in silent question, you waited.

You waited for a reaction, an apologetic smile, a mouthed sorry. Something to show she realized how her actions were hurting you. Anything. 

You waited a second, then another, and then another. 

Instead you got nothing, a continued blank look shot your way as she continued looking at you, head tilted.

You were well aware you didn’t have to say much, nearly a year of being in a relationship, a little over two of living together meant she knew you- quite well too, if you had an opinion on the matter. 

In this moment though, it felt like not enough. 

All the memorized takeout orders, her awareness on how you liked your coffee, what your moods were and how to best comfort you in your lows- her knowing all of that didn’t matter if she couldn’t understand how absolutely heartbroken you felt right now, watching her keep away from you, dance with another body that wasn’t yours, marking a win that you both shared, but only one of you were celebrating.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t realize she was hurting you. 

Bringing your drink towards your chest, you ducked your forehead down, letting the cool glass bring you some reprieve to your growing headache, no doubt caused by heartache. 

Wanting nothing more than to leave, teammates be damned- this night was over for you long ago- you placed the glass back on the bar top, thanking the woman behind it once again before heading over to the team’s table.

Quickly grabbing your coat, confident that Leah could find her way home- not out of malice but with the staggering number of your shared friends, teammates, and rival players in the club- you bid adieu to Steph and Kim, the only two by the table, citing a tired body as your excuse. 

Exiting the stifling atmosphere and slipping into the cool air, you took a deep breath in, forcing your shoulders to relax in an attempt to convince yourself you were okay. 

Well aware that Leah’s eyes had followed you out, you committed the sound of only your footfalls in the late night into memory, eyes stinging, shaky breaths escaping you. 

Beginning the trek home, your apartment not too far, you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. 

~~~

It’s much, much, later when you hear the unmistakable jingle of Leah’s keys by your front door- three forty-three am to be exact. 

You weren’t surprised to hear her here. It was very much expected in fact, the blonde spending nearly all her days and nights here since quarantine started, not bothering to move out once you had made things official. 

Sighing at the fact that you hadn’t slept a wink since you had reached home, not for a lack of trying but for having to console your dejected heart, you internally groaned at the thought of dealing with a drunk Leah. 

Putting your grief aside for the time being and rising out of bed, you rubbed the tiredness out of your eyes and padded over to the kitchen just as Leah stumbled into the entry hallway in front of you. 

Taking in the sight before you, you sighed warily. 

The blonde looked absolutely disheveled- hair matted to her forehead but sticking out everywhere, heels in her hand, and exhaustion pouring out of her eyes.

Watching her stagger blindly towards the island, you quickly put an arm around her waist, leading her to sit on a barstool as you silently grabbed her some water.

Placing the glass in front of her, you turned, planning to head into your shared bedroom to get a set of clothes for the midfielder to change into when her groggy voice interrupted your actions, derailing your thoughts.

“You left early…”

The accusatory tone wasn’t lost on you, your defences immediately going up. 

Baffled at how it was your behaviour being questioned, you shook your head in shock. 

“I did,” you state matter-of-factly, turning to face her. 

You paused for a second, waiting to see what the blonde would say next, already on edge from the rollercoaster of emotions from today.

“Why?”

The question put you in a state of incredulity, your anger and hurt resurfacing.

“Why? You’re really asking me why?” Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked, given the time, but you didn’t pay much mind. 

“Leah, you spent the whole night getting cozy with another girl. The whole night! While I was there! And you’re asking me why I left early?”

“We were just dancing…it’s not like I was making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.” The slurred words combined with the eye-roll from the defender had you shaking your head. “It was completely platonic.”

You couldn’t believe this.

“You’re joking right? Or did you get a concussion mid-game that I don’t know about?” 

“Relax... just because you can’t go a few hours without me doesn’t mean I have to do the same.” 

The slurred words coupled with the nonchalant tone with which Leah expressed herself caused you to lose your breath for a second, mind baffled.

“Did you-,” collecting yourself for a second, you asked her, “…did you just call me clingy?”

Swallowing hard in the silence that followed, you felt your stomach sink.

“You’re really calling me clingy?” The shakiness in your voice made itself known, disbelief becoming apparent.

“It was friendly.” You watched as Leah turned her body away from you, choosing to rest her head on the cool countertop in order to find some relief from her probable headache.

“Was it? You want me to go fucking drape myself all over Millie the next we go out with the United team? Let me know if you feel ‘clingy’ then?” Voice rising more than quiet words once more, you took a step back, trying to put space between you and the other girl. 

“Oh come on it wasn’t that big of a deal…” 

You would have agreed it this hadn’t happened so often, so many times in the past- tonight being your tipping point.

There had already been multiple team events where the blonde stayed the furthest away from you, never bothering to celebrate your goals with you, avoiding any physical contact, almost as if it burned her to be near you. Hiding away any photos you took together, platonic or romantic, in her phone, them never once leaving her library. 

You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, really. 

Ignoring that she couldn’t see you, you shook your head at Leah. Clenching your jaw, you decided to forego taking care of the blonde like you had planned.

“Great, then neither will be you going to bed alone tonight,” you scoffed. 

You saw the midfielder immediately shoot up into a sitting position from her slumped state, eyes wide, body tense.

“We haven’t slept apart since the pandemic, you know that,” her timid voice echoed in the dark apartment.

It was true. You’d both had gotten lucky since and had even been paired up for the handful of times the team had stayed in a hotel, the only time spent apart being during international breaks.

“Well I feel like I was too clingy earlier so I wanna give you space now, since you so clearly crave that.”

“Babe…” 

Well aware that you were too upset to think rationally, you continued ignored Leah’s pleas. Turning on your heel, you started to make your way to grab your pillow and head to the guest room, choosing to kick yourself out rather than disturb the midfielder.

Hearing footfalls behind you, you shook your head as you continued on your path.

“Leah, go to bed. I’m sleeping alone and that’s final.” Your voice came out cold, almost stoic.

The blonde reached for your hand, fingertips barely skimming yours as you harshly pulled your arm to your chest, cradling it.

“Leah I fucking mean it.”

Shoulders dropping, the blonde dejectedly agreed, too out of it to protest again.

Hearing a lack of footsteps behind your own as you made your way across the hall, you shuddered as your heart sank deeper, the weight in your chest settling torturously.

Why did love hurt?

~~~

You didn’t know it but Leah’s miserable the next few days without you. She’s well aware she’d put her foot in her mouth far enough, dug her own grave, but she misses you terribly anyways. 

She misses your hugs in the morning and how you’d let her cuddle you as you cooked breakfast. She misses your kisses and the way you’d randomly just come sit with her during your free time. She misses you being around her, you always hyper, your energy infectious, always brightening her moods. She especially missed your mere presence, you now never spending more time than needed in the same room as her now, instead electing to leave for practice much earlier than needed, picking up takeout and eating in your room, doing anything and everything to ensure you both would never cross paths for longer than a handful of seconds. 

The distance between you had been so noticeable that it didn’t take the team long to catch on, the way you didn’t gravitate to Leah at every given chance during training a stark contrast to your regular shenanigans. 

It had gotten to the point where the team had even been too scared to ask you directly, your frustration clear enough on the pitch with how hard you trained, interactions with the rest of your teammates minimizing as well.

It’s why Beth and Lia had quietly confronted Leah, both uneasy at what had changed between you both. 

“You two okay? She keeps avoiding you at practice, and to be honest, it’s slightly worrisome…” Lia’s voice trailed off as her, Beth, and Leah made it back towards the locker rooms post-practice.

Taking a quick look over her shoulder, not finding you trailing behind, Leah faced the Swiss captain, voice dropping lower. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. She’s just going through some personal stuff. She’ll be okay…”

The ‘I hope so’ went unsaid, but the way Leah’s pitch rose at the end of the statement had the two other player’s eyebrows raising in silent question, thoughts they both chose not to voice on the tip of their tongues.

Nodding in response, the trio continued their walk in silence, no one wanting to push too hard.

Unsaid or not, all three knew that nothing was fine, Leah more so than the others, and it scared her immensely. 

~~~

Stress clear on her face, Leah sprinted off the pitch after the game against Chelsea, chasing you down the tunnel before the rest of the team had even left the field. 

Catching up to your tired body, she grabbed your hand and pulled you in the opposite direction to a more secluded spot, uncaring of how drained you absolutely were.

Too tired from the past few days to refute, you let yourself be pulled.

When the blonde figured you two had made it far enough down the tunnel to talk without being heard, she quickly turned on her heel, stopping and looking at you, face screwed in displeasure. 

“What the fuck was that on the field today? Why were you so aggressive?! You got carded for fuck’s sake- you don’t get carded…ever!”

Sighing, barely scrounging up the energy for the conversation, you closed your eyes, pulling your arm away from her hold.

“I played the game. That’s what I did. Fouls are part of the game,” Your voice was rigid, no fight in you, not after how horribly you’d been sleeping as of late, the argument from nights ago not only affecting the blonde. 

“You played dangerously, that’s what you did! You were irresponsible, careless, and…and reckless! Not to mention selfish! Do you know how much of a difficult situation it would’ve been had you got a red? And with the way that referee was calling fouls, it’s a miracle you didn’t!” 

You could’ve gotten hurt. The words go unsaid.

By now the blonde was nearly yelling, face red from frustration.

Please just let me go.

Biting the inside of your cheek to stay calm, you sighed again.

“Game’s over either way. I didn’t get a red and we won…I don’t see a problem here.” Your voice curt, you made a move to step past the midfielder.

You didn’t get far however, the other girl’s hand coming to grasp your wrist to prevent you from stepping away any further. 

Stopping briefly in your tracks, you didn’t turn. You couldn’t. You couldn’t because if you did, she’d see the tears that were threatening to fall, heart exhausted. 

Instead, you shake your head, tugging your arm out of her grasp and bringing it to cautiously wipe away the few tears that had escaped. 

Watching your figure walk away, Leah’s face fell at your lack of care. 

Dejectedly, she followed you, a fair distance away. Making her own way to the change rooms with a flurry of thoughts in her head and an ache in her chest, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

She couldn’t even blame anyone but herself. 

~~~

Entering the locker room, Leah took a quick look around, the rest of the team nearly showered and changed out of their kits, save for you. 

Ignoring Lia and Katie’s questioning, the blonde walked over to her locker and began to get ready to shower.

Lucky that this was a home game, Leah knew she could take her time.

Taking a quick shower, she tried to casually wait for you to finish up- well aware that you were trying to drag out your own shower, hoping that you wouldn’t cross paths with your girlfriend (ex?- you didn’t really know.) 

The Gunner relented however, making up a lame excuse at Beth’s plea for her to join her on the walk out.

Patiently sitting, nearly alone in the locker room as she watched the rest of the girls file out, she waited. 

She waited as the patter of water ran longer than usual. 

She waited as she slowly heard it come to a stop, an eerie silence consuming the room.

She waited as you finally stepped out minutes later, wet hair tied in a messy but, club gear resting comfortably on your frame. 

She waited as you realized she was still here, eyes widening as a quiet fuck escaped your lips. 

Patience wearing thin now, she stood up, her own bag forgotten as she made her way to you. 

“Listen-“

You didn’t even let her finish though, instead cutting her off before another word could be said, your hand held between you to keep a distance. 

“Honestly? Save it.”

“No, but-“

Shaking your head, you slipped past her, beginning to quickly throw your dirty kit and toiletries into your kit bag.

Silence covered the room for a moment, only the noises of you angrily packing your kit bag to be heard. 

It didn’t last long however, timid words cutting through the tense atmosphere. 

“I’m sorry.”

You froze in your spot at your words, your sweaty jersey just barely dangling in your hands as you inhaled sharply.

Collecting yourself, you shook your head, Leah’s words meaning nothing to you. 

“Okay.”

The blunt, one word reply of yours hit Leah harder than she anticipated, this not at all how she was expecting this conversation to go.

Swallowing hard, she stepped around you, coming to a stop a short ways away, standing between the door and you. 

Wringing her hands nervously, Leah’s voice came out meek, eyes nearly downcast and heart pounding.

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

Laughing darkly at the other girl’s words, you stopped your movement again, turning around with your hands resting on your hips, a cold look in your eyes.

“What else do you want me to say?” Clenching your jaw, you gave Leah a blank look. 

“I-…”

Raising her eyes to meet you, the skipper straightened her back out, nerves rising as she took note of how rigid your posture was- how distant you were from her despite only being a few feet apart.

As you realized she wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to confront her on what had been on your mind throughout the second half of the game.

“You wanna explain what I heard at half-time? Because I’d really love to hear how you plan to spin this one on me this time…”

The deer-in-headlights look you got in return let you know she knew exactly what you were talking about.

At half time, just as the players were headed back in, a young fan had nearly begged Leah to sign her jersey. 

Never one to say no to a supporter of women’s soccer, much less of Arsenal and a young teen, Leah had quickly veered off, making small talk with the girl as she signed and posed for a photo.

Everything had been smooth sailing really, in fact, you watched the whole interaction with a smile on your face as you approached the tunnel.

Too bad good things never lasted.

Just as Leah had been ready to walk away from the stands, the young girl had innocently asked the question that had changed your whole mood.

The high pitched voice asking whether you and Leah were dating had easily carried over to you, repeating in your head since, a broken tape recorder you just couldn’t turn off.

What stuck with you however, was the Gunner’s response- the immediate scoff, zero hesitation or regret on her face as the words ‘absolutely not…she’s not my type’ escaped her. Words that were followed by a shrug and a cheeky grin that haunted you for the second half. 

You always had a feeling you weren’t good enough for her, your insecurity a topic of conversation for many nights in the past- nights where the blonde spent countless hours convincing and proving otherwise. 

Now though? Now it all felt like a lie- recollections of all those middle-of-the-night cuddles and hushed conversations making your heart heavy with the way her denial of your relationship came so quickly, so easily. 

Maybe this wasn’t meant to be, not as much you had wished it was.

Since the start of your relationship, when going out, whether it was with the team or just the two of you, Leah would distance herself from you, never sitting beside you even though she claimed you two were the bestest of friends. Choosing to be anybody else’s partner during media days. Hell, even going as far as standing on the opposite side to you during pre-match photos. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t twist the knife in your chest just a little bit more each time that it happened.

If you were honest, you didn’t know how much bigger you could let the gaping wound get, unsure of whether your heart could handle another twist.

It’s why your next words physically hurt you to say, your voice quiet, its echo ringing in your ears.

“if you’re really that embarrassed of me, maybe we shouldn’t even be together…”

A shiver runs through your spine as you continue to look at Leah.

The admission feels heavy, the bright lights of the room unable to lift the somber mood in the slightest.

You can see a shuddering breath wrack her body at your words, and you can feel the distance between you two growing, mere feet feeling like hundreds of metres, goosebumps rising as the room grows significantly colder.

The reply comes slow, but the intensity, the anger, the defence in her voice at the words nearly knocks you back.

“It’s not like that…” 

The words are emotion laced, Leah’s head tilted to the side as her eyes search your face for any indication of what’s on your mind.

“Really? Then what’s it like? Is it just going to be you denying our relationship till the end? Is it just going to be you getting cozy with another girl and calling me clingy and overreactive? Is it just going to be you claiming you’ve done nothing wrong? Telling Lia that I’m going through something?” 

Shaking your head, a wry smile crossed your face. “Don’t be surprised- at least Wally cared enough to make sure I was doing okay, y’know? Something you haven’t asked me once.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me near you…” The timid admission had you shaking your head, displeased with her response.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes closing as you tried to hold back your frustration, you spoke.

“Thats the issue Leah….you just don’t fucking know. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know how this relationship is going to work. You don’t know when you want to tell everyone we’re together. You don’t see how much it hurts me every time you deny that we are anything more than teammates, even friends! You just so happen to not know you’re breaking my heart each and every goddamn day!”

Chest heaving in frustration, you swallowed hard, you ears heating up in embarrassment of your outburst, eyes going everywhere but to the girl in front of you.

 It’s as you contemplate your next words that the blonde sees your anger turn to sadness, eyes dropping, shoulders sinking.

“You know what? I think- I think we’re done Leah.” 

Your voice was a whisper, the words strained, almost as if it cut you to say them.

“I can’t do this. I really can’t…”

“Wait no…”

You shook your head, barely any energy left in you. 

“How many times Leah? How many times are we gonna go back and forth like this? How long do I have to wait for you to get on the same page? It’s nearly been a year for fuck’s sake.”

Taking a deep breath, you grab your bag, your eyes firmly trained on the floor as you side step Leah and take off to your car, not once looking back.

If you had though, you would’ve seen the broken way the taller woman stood at the exit, eyes damp, body rigid in shock, fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to process what had just happened. 

Being snapped out of her daze at the slam of the door shutting by its own weight, the blonde came back to reality, the weight of your words finally sinking in. 

Swallowing hard as the alarm bells went off in her head, she turned on her heel, yanking the door open and running to follow you.

You are nowhere to be found though, she makes her way to the carpark, just to notice you pull out of your spot, not an ounce of hesitation in your actions. 

Hearing a pair of footsteps beside her though, ones that were most definitely not yours, Leah tensed at the thought of another person’s presence where you should be standing.

Glancing over to see Lia, the English captain tightened her jaw, closing her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to hide just how broken she felt right now. 

“She told me to give this to you- said something about having an issue to attend to…” The words came out quiet from Lia, your set of keys for Leah’s home in her hold, dangling in the space between the two national captains, nearly mockingly.

Voice dropping an octave, Lia decided she had enough of the wait, eyes growing in concern at her counterpart’s disheveled look.

“Leah what’s going on between you two? She seemed pretty upset leaving…”

Swallowing, the Gunner knew she had her chance to come clean, to finally admit to herself that she hurt you, more than she ever thought she would.

Instead though, she didn’t- the idea of saying out loud that you left her too unbearably painful to speak into existence.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged instead, schooling her own expression into a somewhat relaxed one, “we didn’t talk much in the locker room, she seemed pretty stressed in there.”

Raising her eyebrows, Lia didn’t seem to buy it but she didn’t push and Leah didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not.

Grabbing the keys firmly from the Swiss’ hold, Leah turned towards the locker rooms once more, this time not bothering to wipe her tears as they fell, glad for the lack of footsteps behind her. 

With no idea as to where you went or when you would be back, she had no option but to wait and hope it would be soon- soon enough that she could rectify her mistakes and make you hers again- the best thing she ever had, gone, just like that.

~

(read part ii here)

#not proofread sorry folks #not proud of this or how long it took but fuck it we ball #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #my writing #fic req #fic #hcie #angst #idk either man

[riaki]

ᴄɪɢᴀʀᴇᴛᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴡᴏ | ᴀᴋɪ ʜᴀʏᴀᴋᴀᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

syn: as strong-willed as he thinks he is, aki can't help but indulge you every once in a while. he's too weak for you. or, aki shotguns you.

in the past, aki would’ve never admitted to being an addict.

whether it be the cigarettes that are always a few inches away from his twitching fingers, tucked in his pocket— or the alcohol he lets himself indulge in as a sort of tradition he'd treat himself to; a toast to the next day he lives to see, he likes to think his resolve is a little stronger than an itch in his lungs here and there.

still, it's not like he refrains from doing it— his policy is that he's going to end up in the grave soon one way or another, so in his eyes, it's just one rusted nail in the coffin that's a sliver away from being sealed. you’ve complained about it before, but he just can’t rip himself away from the smoke. it’s too bad he can’t turn you pocket sized and carry you around in his palm; you’re a great substitute to the hit of nicotine in terms of soothing his constantly buzzing mind.

his leniency towards those types of things dashes when it comes to you, though. like the breaking foam of waves that crash against a rocky shoreline.

“i said, no.”

aki thought he’d already been firm enough with you the first time, but evidently not. even so, no matter how much you pout and whine— he is not letting you take a drag from his cigarette.

normally, he wouldn’t care. it’s not like he’s never shared one before— he used to steal drags from himeno all the time, until you expressed your disdain and he stopped immediately. it’s not that he doesn’t find your jealousy cute— quite the opposite, in fact. he just doesn’t want you getting any stupid ideas.

you’re certainly not making it easy for him, though.

“come on aki, please?” it’s not uncommon for you to plead like that. since you’ve started dating, aki, or rather, you, have found that the best way to melt his strength of will is to beg.

aki likes taking care of you. it’s in his nature; whatever spirit of a big brother that was left in him after he lost his family gradually nurtured and bloomed in your relationship, especially with someone as… irresponsible as you.

as such, it’s his (self appointed, you’d argue) job to make sure you’re in good health. and he’s very quickly picked up on the fact that learning to say no to you is the one and only lifeline keeping this relationship from drifting off into an irreversible spiral of spoiling you to no end.

in this particular instance, you approached him one morning with a poorly hidden agenda; the balcony door slid open as warmth from the apartment mingled with the chilly early morning breeze. aki was immersed in his newspaper and halfway through a cigarette when you’d spoken up, with the request to ‘have a taste’. he’d immediately said no and left you looking like a sad wet cat on the porch to make breakfast.

he’s regretting that decision thoroughly, now. you won’t stop bugging him, and even though he finds comfort in the sound of your voice, it’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. not because you’re annoying, but that he knows if you say his name in that tone a few more times he’ll fold.

“why not? you do it all the time! i just want to give it a try.” you sighed softly, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the cold marble of the kitchen counter, watching him wash dirty carrots. the vivid green leaves bob up and down beneath the pressure of the sink water as he scrubs them clean, before looking down at you.

“it rots your bones.”

“your bones are fine!”

“i already told you i’m not going to let you. just give it up, love.” he murmurs, turning his attention back to the vegetables in his hands. “cutting board, please.”

you oblige and lean over the counter, grabbing the wooden board from where it leans against the counter wall and hand it over to him. his hands are wet, so you don’t let go until you’re sure he has a firm grip on the board. he uses his other hand to turn the faucet off, droplets clinging to the reflective metal.

“aww, don’t be like that. what’s the harm in just one hit?” you protested, hauling yourself onto the countertop, legs dangling over the edge as your heels hit the cupboards. aki rolls his sleeves up again, revealing the pale bandages on his arms as he shakes the water clinging to his fingers off and grabs a knife and begins to cut into the carrots, dicing them up.

“don’t be stupid.” he scoffs, not looking at you. you watch his arm move up and down with each motion, the thud of the knife hitting the dull cutting board. "i always am." you grumbled under your breath, but he just ignores you.

“you know that’s not how it works. how do you even think people get addicted in the first place, [name]?” he murmurs, holding the carrots in place with two fingers on the leaves.

“it starts with one hit. just one cigarette. and then it turns into one pack, and then some.” he knows the process all too well.

you sigh forlornly, propping your elbows up on your knees and supporting your chin in your hands, kicking your feet in the air as you study the cozy kitchen. the potted plant you’ve been taking care of sits in the corner, tear-shaped leaves drooping beneath the shade of the cupboards. aki’s mug of cold coffee sits on the counter next to the sink, half full and calling your name. it’s the only thing he’s allowed you to be addicted to. and him, of course.

“you’re such a hypocrite.” you grumbled half-heartedly, rolling your eyes before letting your gaze drift to his profile again, studying the slight purse in his lips as he rests one palm over the blunt edge of the knife and cuts with the other one. you’ve always liked watching him cook; he’s good at it, and there’s something grounding in watching him sprinkle pepper and salt over a simmering pot of homecooked stew on a lazy weekend off.

he finally spares you a glance, peering at you through his dark lashes. his silvery blue eyes reflect a soft shine under the glow of the warm kitchen lights.

“i’m not.” he replies, nose wrinkling slightly as you grin in return and raise an eyebrow.

“sure. why don’t you prove it then, aki?” you challenged, leaning forward to stare down at him. even though you’re perched atop the counter, you’re still barely taller than him. not that you mind, though. you both know all of him belongs to you.

aki frowns, before shaking his head. “i don’t need to prove myself to you.” he mutters under his breath, giving you a resigned sigh. his topknot is messier than usual today; probably because you insisted on doing it for him.

he doesn’t even need to look at you to see the pout weighing on your lips; it shows through your voice when you speak again, as he dumps the carrot chunks into a plastic bowl and cleans his knife off on his apron.

“you’re no fun.” you complained, letting your hands fall to the edge of the marble as your fingers curl around the countertop. the sound of the city drifts in through the crack in the balcony door; the sound of trains whizzing by and the bustle of workers on their morning commute filters in through the breeze, a soundtrack to your morning. aki just bites his tongue and sighs.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even notice him step away from the cutting board, dumping the carrot bits into a plastic container and leaving the knife behind on the wood to stand in front of you. your knees graze his middle as he reaches behind you, looking for something on the kitchen counter and your breath catches for a moment when he leans in—

until he pulls back again, a pack of cigarettes in his hand. one end of the box is torn, a hole where he taps his finger on the other end and a cigarette slides out, a bundle of drug and addiction. you're about to be excited when you notice the brand label on the blue cardboard— wild raven, the same one himeno smokes. you know it's petty to be upset over such a thing, but that doesn't stop you from pouting like a petulant child (again), crossing your arms over your chest and nudging his shin with your foot.

aki is observant; it's not like he doesn't notice this. he just ignores it in favor of searching for his lighter, leaning over you to reach the elevated shelf of the counter where he last left the lighter you gave him, decked with worn stickers that rubbed off and left papery residue over time. the material is cold against his hands as he rubs his thumb over the cap; the feeling is familiar.

he clears his throat and your attention snaps back to him, like a moth drawn to a lamp. his expression is unreadable, but you try your best to decipher it anyway. you're only able to catch a hint of uncertainty in the slight frown on his lips before he speaks again and you're distracted by his smooth voice.

"i'll make a compromise. come here," he murmurs, tapping his index finger against the film and coaxing a stick out. it slips from the box and he catches it between his fingers, tipping the lid off and thumbing the spark wheel absentmindedly. not enough to strike a flame by any means— but it's enough for fireworks to go off in your gut as you look up at him again and scoot closer on the counter.

"what are you going to do?" you asked curiously, eyeing the cancer stick as he rolls it between his fingers. it slides down his knuckles and he catches it between his middle and index finger, lighting the tip with one swift flick of the lighter.

"you'll see." he answers simply, tearing his gaze off the cigarette to look back at you again as he slots it between his lips. suddenly you're mesmerized; the only thing you can focus on is the curve of his lips and the way the cig balances between them. you hear him breathe in as he leans a little closer to you, standing between your knees as he slowly inhales.

you're mesmerized. there's always been this draw when it comes to aki— something you can't place but that you recognize to be alluring; right now, the only thoughts running through your mind aren't about the cigarette so tantalizing close within your reach like a forbidden apple, or the wet carrot chunks left unattended in the plastic strainer. the only thing on your mind is how close he is, and what he'd taste like if you kissed him right now.

unfortunately for you, there's a stick of paper and drugs blocking your path.

fortunately for you, aki seems to have read your mind.

in one swift motion, he takes his cigarette out his mouth and leans forward, using his free hand to tilt your chin up. he notices the way your lips part like it's muscle memory whenever his own lips are close— it makes him smile; a minuscule, amused twitch of his lips as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. it curls in mini storm clouds like some sort of deathly mouth to mouth, and aki's fingers gently press into your chin to make sure the smoke settles in nicely, trapped between two lovers in a haze.

and before you can even process what just happened, the sensation of his lips pushing hungrily against yours floods your brain, sending a jolt of tingling electricity down your spine as the blaring alarms going off in your brain from the unfamiliar sensation of the smoke are silenced.

a fire spreads through your veins like molten lead as he kisses you, a veil of smoke drifting into the air, curling and snaking about like an oriental dragon made of vapor. it's as if you've been burned by the cherry itself; your cheeks feel hot and you can feel aki's fingers tremble slightly as they find your face, his thumb barely brushing over your cheek gingerly it's as if the slightest hint of pressure might make you vanish into thin air. he tastes like rich coffee and sweet smoke, and something bitter.

you're acutely aware of the way his other arm snakes around your waist, trapping you against the cold marble counter as your teeth graze his bottom lip and his fingers curl into your side. it's something straight out of your wildest dreams until the smoke clogs your throat like cobwebs and you rapidly pull away, coughing as your eyes burn and you cover your mouth. a rare laugh escapes aki's lips, and you shoot him a glare, to which he only ignores, letting it burn away.

it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts as you stare up at his face, pleasantly dusted strawberry red under the glow of the kitchen lights, the tips of his ears pink with a crude mix of want and embarrassment.

"you could've given me a warning next time." is the only thing you're able to get out, the rest of your words dying on your tongue as you cough again to soothe the itch in your throat, rubbing your eyes as you sulk.

it's such a childish thing to do, and yet aki can't help but find it endearing. he's in over his head, and he knows it's far too late to turn back now.

he grabs the ashtray he keeps on the cluttered kitchen counter, smushing the glowing red cherry of the cigarette into the ashtray, extinguishing the life from the ash as it fizzles out, and your hopes go with it.

"wait— you're not gonna do it again?" he glances down at you, blue eyes sharp with a sour expression on his pretty face. it's like you squeezed lemon juice onto his tongue.

"no. like hell i'm letting you get away with more," he says firmly, shaking his head as he steps away from you again. he has a sixth sense for when you're about to complain, so he puts a hand over your mouth to stop the noise from escaping before you can start.

even with the way you're glaring daggers at him, just the fact that you can stand to look at him after he violated your personal space like that makes his chest constrict. it's as if his heart is trying to burrow out of his chest and find its way into your palm. he looks away again to hide the flush on his face.

even then, it was a mistake to keep his fingers over your mouth, because he can feel the very instant your lips curve into a soft, doting smile that only worsens this touchy predicament he's found himself in.

"pleeeeease, aki?" even though your voice is barely audible, it's too much, and you can tell. before he can even blink, he finds himself staring up at you with his chin on your chest and your fingers tangled in his hair, newly loose with his hairtie around your wrist. it would've been cute if not for the shit-eating grin on your smug face.

aki groans and hides his face in your shirt, reluctantly letting you pull him closer. as much as he'd like to ignore the effect you have on him and continue preparing a warm lunch for the two of you, his willpower has melted away like the wax on a candle, no fight left in him to protest as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

"you're too much." he grumbles irritably, voice muffled.

you only smile, and although he can't see it, he can hear it when you speak, and it makes his heart pound wildly between his rotting lungs.

"you love me." and he hates how you don't even realize just how right you are.

aki doesn't consider himself a hopeless romantic. but if there's one thing to ever be addicted to, you're it.

#will it work #who knows! #not proofread #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa #csm x reader #csm #csm aki #chainsaw man #csm x you #chainsaw man x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki hayawaka #hayakawa aki x reader #this took. way too many tries for it to even show up on tags #tumblr gives its stupidest problems to its hottest bitches #read: everyone who’s been fucked over by dividers #n e way this is super self indulgent if u couldn’t tell alr 😽

[aizawaskittenwhore]

bedroom stats with armin!

hi guys im back, this is not to b taken seriously but i had to get these lil armin hcs out my drafts so enjoy! <3

content warnings: uh..smut!

yeah that’s about it. let me know if i missed anythin in the notes !

im not gonna say “armin likes missionary because hes shy/inexperienced >.<“ because not only is that played out, it’s not even true!!

armin’s thing is backshots w you on your stomach. pillow underneath you for optimal comfort, but sometimes if he’s in a rush, he doesn’t mind using the wall to serve his purpose

yes there are marks from where your neck and chest have mushed themselves into the drywall, forehead smearing sweat against eggshell paint as you revel in how fucking good he feels

he’s so fucking analytical in everything he does, even down to sex positions and what angles hit deepest when he’s fucking you..

Talks You Through It™️

im so deadass.

he loves watching you shiver as his lips come into range, his breath heady as it ghosts along your nervous system, your body zoned in on the sensation that is armin whispering utter filth as he rocks into you again, and again, and again

“i know, i know—“ you’re pushing his lower stomach in protest, his tip poking and prodding sweet moans out of you, body waivering when he molds himself into your cervix for just a second, retreating only to seemingly go even deeper on the next stroke

“move your fuckin’ hand.” is almost a whisper when he says it. but his voice is so deep and so sensuous when it slithers through you like that. naturally, your hand goes limp

“f-feel you in my stomach..”

“just means i got you to feel good.”

prefers to give over receive, less for you more for him

armin arlert relaxes by slurping up pussy juice and honestly, good for him!

does a lot of grunting during sex but his voice is just so breathy so it comes out angelic as fuck mmm

armin is also a whisperer during sex like he loves watching u shiver when he gets real close, body already being propelled from the momentum of him fucking you but when he starts whispering nasty shit in your ear as though he’s not in your guts???

mm

just mm.

throws his head back when he’s about to cum

yes with a lip bite cause for some strange reason he tries not to moan like you don’t love that shit..but go off i suppose

physically speaking no his dick is not enormous but it really makes no difference cause honey

stroke game gives rock the boat, rock the boat

im sorry i really wanted to add that AHAHA

nah but armin’s coming in at like 6.5 hard

and that’s ok!

also contrary to popular belief armin is an ass man.

it’s something about a nice ass and pair of thighs that’s gonna get him hard without fail, as he should

eats it from the back too

no i will not elaborate further

also loves it when you break script and don’t play along

he’s always had a thing for the “taming a bad girl” fantasy, possibly attributed to his rule-following mentality with everything else, but hey what do i know

calls u “nasty girl” when you’re getting nutted on

rubs it in w the tip after facials..

armin is a freak y’all better act like you know

#armin a freaky fuck y’all don’t let that bowl cut fool you!!! #no beta no proofread we rawdogging this hoe #aot smut #armin x reader #aot x reader #armin headcanons #armin smut #armin arlert x reader #armin x reader smut #armin arlert

[jays-bookmarks]

There was only one bed, but... (Dan Heng x gn!reader)

It's basically this picture. You're both nerds who don't know how to flirt and continually dance around your feelings.

Summary: March tries her best to set you up with the man you've been pining after since you first joined the Express, but her best-laid plans are foiled because both you and Dan Heng are socially incompetent. Words: 2.5k Warnings: secondhand embarrassment, awkward pining, reader is "short" (tiptoes to reach the top shelf lol), reader has some skimpy nightclothes

It had been a long day for you, March, and Dan Heng. After what happened during your mission, all you wanted was to flop down on a bed and sleep. As your group made its way to the inn, a very sheepish receptionist came to greet you. He apologized and explained that there were only two rooms left available.

“Oh, that's okay,” you said, glancing over at your teammates with a shrug. “I can share with March.”

March, however, quickly declined.

“No, uh—you should go with Dan Heng!” she said.

Your eyes widened at her words. “What? Why?”

You couldn’t hide the small blush on your face as you glanced over at Dan Heng. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your nervousness, having been equally surprised by March’s sudden proposition. He tilted his head, waiting for March to explain.

“Well…” March looked a little nervous under Dan Heng’s scrutiny. She gave you a meaningful look. “Since you’re so new to this, wouldn't it be safest to stay with Dan Heng? Don’t forget he’s the guard of the Astral Express! Besides, I, uh… snore pretty loud!”

She ended her sentence with an awkward giggle. You narrowed your eyes at her. You knew March was only taking this opportunity to set you up with Dan Heng, but you tried to play it cool and let him have the final say. There was no way he'd agree… right?

“...I suppose that makes sense,” Dan Heng said, turning to you. “Are you alright with that?”

“Huh? Uh—yeah!” You froze up under his gaze, then quickly glanced away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your face was so hot that you were sure Dan Heng didn’t miss your blush this time. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily… but then again, why would he refuse? Despite the shiftiness of her delivery, March did make a sound argument. And Dan Heng clearly didn’t have any feelings he needed to keep hidden…

From the corner of your eye, you saw March pumping her first in victory before quickly hiding her hands behind her back. She bit her lip to suppress a grin. You shot her a glare, but she only giggled in response before ushering you all down the hall.

Once you saw the room you were staying in, your heart dropped. Of course, there was only one bed.

Dan Heng seemed completely unfazed, immediately moving to set his stuff down on the floor.

“You can have the bed,” he said, glancing back to where you stood frozen in the doorway. His gaze lingered on you for a moment. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but then he turned away and began taking off his coat.

You tentatively stepped into the room.

“A-are you sure? I… think there's enough room on the bed for both of us…” you said, but you could already feel yourself combusting at the thought of sharing a bed with Dan Heng. Sure, the bed was technically big enough for two people, but just barely. Trying to share this bed would definitely result in you two being squished uncomfortably close together.

You glanced over at Dan Heng, who shook his head and set his coat on the floor as a makeshift bedroll.

“I’ll be more comfortable on the floor," he said. Then, after a pause, he added in a quieter voice. "It would be best to keep a distance…"

Your face fell at his subtle rejection. Or, maybe you were just reading too much into it. He was probably just used to sleeping on the floor like he did in the archives. Or maybe he saw your awkwardness around him as you being uncomfortable with his presence. Or perhaps he just meant it would be easier for him to jump into action if the two of you weren’t tangled up together in bed. Oh gods, why did you word it like that? You shook the thought from your head and took a deep breath.

“Right, well… do you want an extra pillow or anything? A blanket?” You gestured to the bed.

Dan Heng shook his head again. “Don’t worry about me,” he said.

You sighed and turned to the closet anyway to look for an extra blanket. You had to stand on your toes to take it from the top shelf, but you managed without having to grab a stool. With that small victory spurring you on, you held the blanket out to him. But Dan Heng shook his head once more.

“You should take it,” he said. “It’ll be cold tonight.”

“And what are you gonna do? Just freeze?” you retorted.

He chuckled. “I’m used to sleeping in all sorts of conditions. I’ll be fine.”

He seemed adamant about letting you take the extra blanket. Unfortunately for Dan Heng, you also knew how to be stubborn. You frowned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Come on… Just take it,” you said.

Dan Heng didn’t budge. You huffed, pouting a little.

“Please?”

He simply raised an eyebrow in response. You pursed your lips, trying to find another angle.

“Okay… how about this? If I get too cold tonight I’ll come and steal it from you. Deal?”

After a pause, he sighed and took the blanket. You grinned as you watched him lay the blanket down next to him. Grabbing your bag, you went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

By the time you returned, Dan Heng was settled on the floor. He had Cloud-Piercer in his lap and was polishing the tip of the spear. You gestured to the bathroom as you passed.

“It’s all yours,” you said.

He looked up and you noticed his gaze briefly flick over your body. You blushed as you realized how little your sleepwear actually covered. Dan Heng quickly looked away, placing Cloud-Piercer against the wall as he stood.

“Thank you,” he said. He paused when you didn’t move from where you stood. “…You don’t have to wait for me. Rest.”

“Right… um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight.”

Despite the way your heart still hammered in your chest, you fell asleep surprisingly quickly. But not long after, you awoke to the sound of movement from the floor beside your bed.

As you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you heard Dan Heng mumbling something in his sleep. Concerned, you leaned over the bed to check on him. His brows were furrowed, and he was covered in a cold sweat while he tossed and turned. Was he having a nightmare? You stared at him for a moment longer, pondering whether you should try to wake him up. He was always such a private person… would he appreciate you butting into his personal life like this?

Still, you thought it would be best not to leave him to suffer. Sliding out from under the covers, you crouched down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. You called his name, trying to gently wake him up.

“Dan Heng…”

In a flash, you were pinned to the floor, your wrist held at a painful angle behind your back while Dan Heng’s other hand gripped the back of your neck. You sucked in a breath, too shocked to even say anything. A beat passed.

You heard Dan Heng quietly say your name in a surprised voice. He seemed to realize what had happened and quickly released you. His hands hovered uncertainly around you as you pushed yourself back into a sitting position with a groan.

“A-are you alright?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I know,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I was just—”

You shrugged and rubbed at your wrist to ease the pain. A look of guilt flashed over Dan Heng’s face.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I should be asking you that. Are you okay? Were… you having a nightmare?"

Dan Heng opened his mouth to reply, before closing it again. He seemed hesitant to say anything. You could tell he was still shaken up by his nightmare, whatever it was. Eventually, he let out a sigh.

“...No. It’s fine. Forget it happened,” he said.

You paused for a moment, biting your lip. If he didn’t want to talk, then you couldn’t exactly force him to open up. You nodded.

“As long as you're feeling okay…” You began to stand, but paused halfway to look back at him. “Um, but if you want to stay up and chat about other stuff… just as a distraction… I wouldn't mind.”

Though you were making the offer for him, part of you secretly wanted this late-night conversation. It was a way to get to know him better. As a friend, of course. You looked at Dan Heng, hoping he would accept.

“...I suppose I wouldn't mind a distraction at the moment.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. Flashing a smile, you returned to sit down beside him on the floor. After a brief pause, you realized that Dan Heng had expected you to start the conversation.

"Um. Okay, well…" you floundered for something to say. You were never good at holding a conversation, and the fact that Dan Heng was sitting so close to you wasn’t helping you in the slightest. You tried to tell yourself not to think about it—he had already rejected you, anyway, you could take a hint—but your body was reacting on its own. You hoped that he didn’t notice the flush on your cheeks in the dark room.

Dan Heng remained silent for a while longer, waiting for you to finish your thought, but when it became clear you had nothing to say, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“It seems we’re both quite bad at conversation, aren’t we?” he said.

You laughed as well, feeling a bit of the tension between you dissipating.

"Yeah… I guess I should've thought of that when I offered…"

The two of you fell into silence once more. Since you were so preoccupied with searching for a topic of conversation, you were unaware of how Dan Heng was struggling not to stare at you in your sleepwear. The chill in the room seeped into your exposed skin, and you shivered slightly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“Here.”

Before you could react, Dan Heng had leaned over you. You froze, your mind going completely blank as you felt his breath fanning over your cheek. His arms trapped you on both sides and you tried not to move lest you accidentally touched him. Your eyes flicked down to his lips…

But then Dan Heng pulled back, and you felt something being draped over your shoulders. He had grabbed the spare blanket from behind you and was now wrapping it around you. His hands, no longer covered by his gloves, grazed your bare skin as he did so, leaving a pleasant tingling in their wake. When you finally managed to snap out of your shock, you reached up to secure the blanket with your own hands, and Dan Heng retreated into his space once again.

You thanked him quietly, hoping your voice didn’t shake too much. He nodded in response before glancing away with a cough. If you weren’t panicking so hard over what had just happened, you would’ve laughed and called him cute.

But you were panicking, and right now teasing him was the last thing on your mind. You tried desperately to think of something, anything, to change the topic and move away from this tension between you two.

You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“Uh... what's your favorite animal?”

You blushed immediately after the words left your mouth.

“Um. Sorry, that was kind of a stupid question…” you said. “I'm... not very good at... talking."

Dan Heng chuckled. You let out a relieved laugh as well, glad that you hadn’t made things more awkward, at least.

“The white tiger,” he said. “They’re quite striking, and very elusive... To the people of the Xianzhou, it is known as the Guardian of the West, representing the season of autumn.”

You nodded as he spoke, trying to indicate that you were paying attention to his words and not the way his lips were currently curled into a smile. He turned his gaze to you and you quickly looked away.

“What about you?” he asked.

You blinked, pleasantly surprised that he was willing to continue the conversation. Glancing up at the ceiling with a hum, you thought about your answer.

"I like dragons,” you said. “Oh, actually—aren’t the Vidyadhara, like, dragon people? Can they turn into dragons?”

“Only some could turn into dragons. The power was a rare inheritance, passed down only to those who could successfully complete numerous rites and challenges.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Dan Heng began to explain. You nodded along, your fatigue beginning to catch up to you as you listened to his soothing voice. After a moment, you yawned and leaned against him with a sigh. Your tired brain had pushed the memory of your awkwardness from just moments ago to the back of your mind. You didn't notice the way Dan Heng stiffened at your touch, nor the way his breath hitched as he stopped mid-sentence.

A moment of silence passed, then your eyes flew open as you realized what you had just done. You quickly withdrew, stammering apologies.

"I'm so sorry! I don’t know what— I'm sorry!" Your face was flushed and you couldn’t meet Dan Heng’s gaze.

"No… it's fine.” Dan Heng’s voice was quiet and seemed to waver slightly. He took a breath before clearing his throat. "Don't worry about it…"

You took a breath as well, willing your heart to calm down. "Right, um..."

You glanced down at the floor as you fidgeted with your hands. That tension was back again. You were acutely aware of how close you came to touching each other every time one of you shifted on the bedroll. The silence stretched on as you once again wracked your brain for something to say.

“It’s getting a bit late…” you finally said. “Should we go to bed?”

You weren’t trying to drop any hints, per se, but you didn’t think your heart could handle any more accidents tonight.

“Yes... let’s try to be well-rested for tomorrow,” Dan Heng said.

He stood and offered you his hand. You paused, a little surprised, before you flashed a nervous smile and took it. You couldn't help but stare at the way his muscles flexed in his arm… You quickly shook the thoughts out of your mind and handed the spare blanket back to Dan Heng. You sat down on the bed, leaving him to settle back on the floor.

“Goodnight, Dan Heng,” you said. “And... thanks for chatting with me.”

“Goodnight. And—” Dan Heng paused for a moment, seemingly debating something in his mind. After a moment, he continued with a faint smile. “It was... nice to talk to you as well.”

#i sent excerpts of this fic to my friends and they were banging their head on the table bc of these idiots #i'm sure march would as well if she saw this #also i kept fucking hitting undo and losing all my work so this took literal hours to edit #i hope you enjoy bc I bled for this :') #never using tumblr's post editor to proofread fics ever again #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x gender neutral reader #dan heng x gn reader #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail fanfic #dan heng imagines #honkai star rail #my writing

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I don't think non-New Yorkers know how funny Miles and Wiles having Jordans is.

Like it's REALLY funny and really Brooklyn - New York of him.

Miles, Wiles, and Jordan Sneakers - Clever Cultural Characterisation

[A MEDIUM length post were I talk about Brooklyn Sneaker Culture and it's use in ATSV]

Have you ever wondered -

Why is Miles the only one wearing branded clothing?

When all other brands are either spoofed or replaced, why is Miles - the main character wearing such VERY BLATANTLY branded sneakers?

And why is Nike, a random shoe brand, the choice to go with?

There's a reason the creators show Miles' creativity and personality through his shoes.

And it's because

JORDANS HAVE A CHOKEHOLD - on Black Guys in High School from NYC

And this might be bizarre to some and idk if it translates to other black communities- (please tell me if it does)

But here in Brooklyn, almost every masc guy in my high school was OBSESSED with Jordans. Most guys I knew can name certain releases by looking at them, and had multiple pairs in different colors

JORDANS WERE LIKE SOCIAL CURRENCY - from middle school all the way to college. And it's a very cultural thing here in Brooklyn.

What colors you had and how many are something you bragged about. Many guys own multiple different colorways of Jordan's and will WAIT in line hours for a new release.

There's a store call Flight Club here in the city, and sometimes you'll see the line going out the door, of well dressed black guys waiting for the new release of Nikes to start going on sale.

Of course Adidas is popular, but no where near the culture hold as Nike to us.

I remember begging my parents for like a week until they brought me Black Air Force 1s

And I STILL have them over ten years later. They're too small, but they're holding up well. And even until this day, my home town is lined with sneaker stores. There's one around the corner from me rn.

Here it really is natural for guys LOVE JORDANS and to use them as a form of self expression. It's not odd for Fashion is on the minds of black guys in Brooklyn.

Even in high school, guys were matching their outfits and always trying to get the latest brand name. Mind you, this is an inner-city school full of 98% low income black kids. For us that was a social language.

Some shoes even have their own 'personalities' tied to them:

For example:

Black Air Force 1s (the one above) are often called 'hit a lick' shoes. Hitting a lick means to rob someone. So there's this idea that if you have those on you about that action lol it's an chill inside joke though it isn't serious.

White Air Forces are seen for guys who DON'T do that because they're too worried about getting their white ass shoes so clean.

Keep the above in mind for the next part

Hair cuts - like shape-ups and fades, Backpacks, and Shoes are three big things that were a fashion influence in my high school HARD.

Trends also are a big thing here, and they come on really quickly. I remember for maybe four years a brand called Sprayground got big, and after all SO many high school kids started collecting these $80 bags in all different colors. I wanted one so bad.

A lot of them had illustrations of things like money or weed.

If you see a mfer with the shark mouth bookbag RUN he's the biggest fuckboy you've ever met.

Which is to say - !42 WOULD HAVE ONE OF THESE BAGS

Guys get SO INTO THEM

How many of the iconic orange boxes that you lined up in your room (yes they keep them) was something you boasted about.

MFers would deadass have this in the corner of their room and bring you over talking about sum 'it's decor' SIR IT'S A HOARDING ADDICTION

They'll walk different, and NEVER squat, because doing that might crease the leather along the toe box. And creased Jordans are not fresh so what's the point - they're ruined. A guy in my class use to being plastic bags and tie them around his ankles when it rained then he walked home.

Like look at this Reddit post I found -

'is he stupid' 😭😭that's so mean but like here EVERY guy just assumes you know not to do that to Jordans ever

And that's why the creators do it - AND THEY DO IT WELL

And it's so impressive their deep understanding of this very specific thing that happens in mostly black high schools in NYC.

Cause that's not something you can just search up and research really.

Because of our culture - Miles & Miles!42's shoes are a silent language in their own right.

Like Miles!42's shoes are one of the first things we see about him.

They're the first thing we're suppose to notice - because it let's is compare him to Miles.

Miles' Jordans are iconic - the white and red shoes.

They're clean and white, with pops of color and personality. Like Miles, he's about being the good of Spider-man, while also getting himself and adding his own colors to it.

And because it's natural to the character and the culture, they let his shoes be the signal that Wiles is not like Miles. He has a different style, in fighting, in speaking, in personality, from his hair literally down to his shoes.

REMEMBER HOW I TALKED ABOUT SHOES HAVING PERSONALITY AND THE BLACK AIR FORCES ??????

Wiles' shoes are VERY similar to Black Air Force 1s. It's basically that with utility bags and purple detailing.

That's a signal - like I said: WILES IS ABOUT THAT ACTION. He's here to get his lick back.

From his standpoint, as a black guy from Brooklyn with his personality, he would know about this culture. He'd know the message black Nikes send where he's from.

It'd be natural for him - Hell yeah he'd go for the black Jordans.

He's speaking his social language.

Wiles' doesn't have to say 'fuck around and find out' he got on Air Forces with bags on them - HE'S ABOUT IT.

The writers didn't wake up one day and say 'Oh Nike wants a brand deal?! Okay cool'.

They don't show Wiles' shoes to be like 'LOOKY BUY THE NICE SHOES' - We are shown this shot

For them to be like : This is who Miles!42 is.

Because of sneakers.

Isn't that COOL? ISN'T IT. ISN'T IT COOL THE SOCIAL DYNAMICS OF INNER CITY BLACK KIDS IN NEW YORK??

But it's really funny to me to see Wiles shoes and be like 'damn he bout to fuck Miles up'.

THE IDEA OF THEM FEIGNING OVER JORDANS Fyyofydyogoc

Do guys where you are do this?? Like is this a thing y'all know any Sneakerheads.

Anyway I would put a pic of Hobie but I'm on mobile so they won't let me and I'm lazy

Bye.

#no proofreading fuck it we ball #spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #across the spiderverse #atsv miles #atsv analysis #miles morales #miles g #miles 42 #Earth 42 miles #Earth 42 Miles Morales

[galaxysgal]

just started s10 when tami is pregnant asf so now i’m thinking about lip with a lovey needy pregnant gf 🧸🩷 ((not edited + been awake 24hrs+))

“good morning baby,” you croon, watching lip come sleepily down the stairs. he runs a hand through soft, messy curls and waves to franny, who had started giggling the moment she saw him. you sat at the table with her while debbie was in the shower, filing out your crossword and letting franny ask you questions she had about her new baby cousin in your tummy.

“what uh-, fuck, what time is it? how long’ve you been up?” lip asks, rifling through the cabinet for a half-eaten, half-stale box of cereal. he’s tired, you can see the dark circles from across the room. you’d made the decision to let him sleep in, leaving him in the morning with a sweet kiss on his cheek before drawing the curtains and shutting the door.

you shrug, “about noon… been down here since seven. this baby sure is a gallagher, ‘cause he’s real hard headed and stubborn,” you say, playfully pointed at your baby bump.

“baby gallagher,” he mumbles, almost in awe as he pours two bowls of cereal.

you stand, one hand on your back to ease the constant weight of your pregnancy belly, and make your way over to lip. he smiles knowingly as you hold out the fruit basket to him, and takes a banana to cut up in your cheerios. just the way you like it.

he’s thoughtful in that way, knowing what you wanted, what you needed, understanding you in a way no one has before. while lost in thought you feel his arms wrap around your middle, hands resting gently on your baby bump. then, you feel your son kick right under lip’s hand. sure, there’s discomfort attached, but it’s all worth it when you look back at the sweet smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“hey buddy, how ya doin’ in there? hm?” he murmurs down toward your tummy.

“he’s been rowdy this morning,” you confess. you’d barely slept because of your son’s constant kicking. “i think he’s ready to be outta there, aren’t you little man?”

lip laughs softly at that, moving to finish slicing up the banana for your cereal. “you should’ve woke me up. i could’a helped try and get ya comfortable or somethin’,” he tells you, turning his head towards you with concerned eyes.

you just shake your head with a dismissive smile. “you needed the rest, lip. i let you sleep in.”

“hey, look at me will ya?” he says, reaching a hand out to guide your cheek. you meet his eyes, seeing him softly search your face. “you gotta rest too, mama.”

you shrug him off, but fall in at his side as grabs the milk from the fridge. “baby keeps me up, then i think about all the shit i gotta do and-“

“nuh uh, none of that, we’re in this together yeah?” he says bluntly, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“of course,” you respond with a kiss to his cheek. his skin is still warm from sleep, and you breathe in the scent of tobacco and cologne.

lip nods, satisfied. “there we go, end of discussion. you wake me up next time, you hear me?” he says playfully. he turns around to grab the shaker of cinnamon but you reach out and catch his sleeve, pulling him in so your faces are nearly touching.

“thank you,” you murmur to him, hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “and i love you. so, so much.”

you can feel lip heat up at your words, but he kisses you softly instead. the two of you are so close together, the world falling silent as you lived in this brief, shared moment.

“yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, laughing softly, but after a moment his shifts into a genuine expression as he adds, “i love you too. so much.”

end.

#i’m high asf and sleep deprived but i needed to say thjs #tbh this could be nonsense k didn’t rlly proofread #and also i’m so fucked up rn !! #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher x y/n #mags writes #🍃 posting #shameless fanfiction