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sukunasteeth · 11 hours

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Stitches

Sukuna has never made you wait for him.

He was always on time, always there before you, and if circumstances arose where-in he couldn't be, you always knew an hour before. You were never left to wonder or worry.

If Sukuna says he'll be there, he's there.

So when you wake up to his cold and empty bed, after hours of waiting for him to return home from work, you want to assume the best case scenario.

He's just working late, you assure yourself when your eyes find the clock on the nightstand and it tells you that it's two o'clock in the morning. Maybe he was so entranced in whatever he was tending to that he had forgotten to call you and tell you he'd be late. It had never happened before, but there was a first time for everything.

You try not to trip over your own two feet on your way to the bathroom, ignoring the dread that immediately darkens your thoughts upon checking your phone for the hundredth time that night.

No call. No text... Did he tell you in person earlier in the day and you had simply forgotten?

What if he's hurt?

You round the corner of the hallway.

What if he's in trouble?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even register seeing the bathroom light peeking out from under the door.

You push it open.

What if he's-

Standing over the sink, dripping in blood, and using a fishing line to sew up an enormous gash splitting into his side?

You're frozen in the doorway.

Faced with the unfortunate answer to the questions that had been progressively plaguing you the entirety of the night. Shock grips your throat and has a cold sweat breaking out over your skin.

You haven't seen him so roughed up since the two of you were in high school. Sukuna, always hungry for a test of strength, had often walked you home with a bloody nose or a ripped open pair of knuckles, but this would be the first time you've seen him look like he just rolled out of a fight club ring.

He's taken off his suit jacket and his usually pristine white button down has been torn to shreds. The pieces that are left of it have adhered to the deepest of his wounds, soaked in crimson. He's holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, glaring down at a particularly large slice in his torso as he feeds a needle into the skin and puts himself back together again. One of his eyes is swollen and there's a small cut to the side of it. You can tell that he'll have a black eye come morning. Sukuna must see you in the corner of it, because he suddenly turns to look at you. The edge of his shirt falls out of his mouth, but Sukuna doesn't seem to notice, too surprised by your presence.

The two of you take each other in. Silently appraising the situation.

Before you can react, his surprise is already morphing into a resigned, disappointed sigh.

"Aw shit."

"What the HELL?!" You don't recognize the voice that escapes you in your panic. Raspy from the sleep still coating your throat, disjointed as your tonsils remember themselves and yet forget how to operate in your shock. You're across the room in a flash, nearly tripping headfirst into him in your haste. "What happened?! Y-You're hurt. Why are you hurt? Jesus, that looks so bad- oh my god. 'Kuna-"

"Shhh," He's hushing you. You're close enough for him to reach out with his free hand and pull you even closer, he doesn't seem to notice the streak of fresh blood he leaves behind on your wrist. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"You're covered in blood!" You whisper in horror, you search his eyes for even an ounce of alarm, and find only his usual nonchalance lounging there. As though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

He even looks down at himself like he wants to refute you, but when he picks up the collar of his shirt, finding the shredded pieces of what remained of it, he seems to think better.

"Little bastards didn't do half bad, actually." He mutters to himself. He almost sounds... impressed. "Any deeper and it could have really been a pain in my ass."

"What happened?" You ask again, desperate.

"Just some kids waiting outside of the office." He rubs at the back of his head, and you notice another small cut there over a raised bump that seems to be swelling at the base of his skull. It must be tender, because he grimaces when he grazes it. You do too, just from watching him. "Trying to make some pocket money off of me and Uraume. They should have at least waited until we were both alone." When he pulls his hand away from his head, there's fresh blood glistening on his fingertips. He sucks his teeth. "Amateurs."

You take a deep, steadying breath- willing your heartbeat to slow.

You were the one who decided to fall for a man constantly looking for a good fight. At this point, you had only yourself to be disappointed with.

Without another word you turn your back to him and head straight for the shower. You needed him to wash off. You wouldn't be able to tell which parts of him needed attention in the mess that was currently coating his skin and you were already preparing mentally to tend to him. You spin the dial to ‘hot’ and turn back to him, trying your best to glare. You didn't think it was working very well. Especially because he's smiling softly at you.

"Get in." You command, pointing to the tub.

Sukuna scoffs softly, turning back to his needle and fishing line.

"It's fine.” He brushes you off. “I'm just going to rinse the cuts as I go-"

"Sukuna." You don't mean for it to come out as demanding as it does. Sukuna was hurt. You wanted to be gentle with him, but you can't help how overwhelmed you are at the sight of him battered to such a degree.

He slowly lifts his head like he was giving you time to think about the way you had just spoken to him before he meets your eyes again. You're too roused to take it back. "Get. In."

You can tell in his momentary silence that he doesn't recognize this shade of frustration on you. He's watching you like he's trying to take in every detail of it. Engrave it into his brain. Part of you is reminded in that moment that it wasn't Sukuna's anger you were in risk of pushing, but rather his excitement.

He folds up the fishing line and loops it around the sewing needle, placing it onto the counter without turning to look at it.

Your unrelenting stance falters a bit as he crosses the room after you, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he goes. His eyes never leave yours, testing your will.

When he makes it to you, he's brimming with pride. His belt clinks when he unloops the first notch.

"Yes ma'am." He purrs.

...

An hour later, he's as clean as he can be and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat. You're perched in his lap, having already finished stitching shut the larger wounds that needed it. Now you're down to the last small cut left, which is on his cheek. It didn't require much attention, it was a tiny graze compared to the rest of the gashes you had tended to.

You can feel Sukuna watching you with a smitten little smile, like you had just spent the past hour silently telling him how much you adored him with your gentle but stern touches.

It ticks you off.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter, pressing the last of the steri-strips against his skin.

He doesn't even pretend to stop. You refuse to meet his gaze as you do a final examination of your handiwork. Finally, with him properly patched up and without a single drop of fresh blood in sight, the pain in your heart eases. He was okay.

"...Why didn't you have Uraume help you with this before you came home?" You pretend to reassess one of the gauze strips on his bicep, but it's really just an excuse to nervously pick at the cotton while you're underneath his gaze.

There were plenty of people at the office who knew how to deal with wounds to this severity, professional medics that could have sewed him up twice as fast and sent him home just as clean as when he had arrived. So why did he wait so long for help?

Sukuna hums and his bandaged knuckles glide up and down the outsides of your thighs. "Maybe I like watching you play nurse."

"Kuna~" You groan hopelessly, letting your head thunk against his shoulder. "Quit teasing. I'm mad at you." You announce.

It only serves to widen his grin, which you can feel pressed against your hair as he kisses your forehead.

"But you're so cute when you want to be mad at me." He mocks your tone of voice and chuckles when you press your thumb into the bandage on his bicep in an attempt to punish him-just a bit.

Quickly, he snatches your hand, locking the both of your fingers together and gently nudging your head with his own. Silently asking you to look up again.

You're trying your best to pout at him, but you're surprised to see softness where you expected to find mischief in his expression. There's a warm fondness to his gaze. One you usually only see him wear when he's watching you talk about something you're particularly passionate about.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." The genuineness of the statement softens the hard lines of your face. And just like that, you completely forget that you’re supposed to be mad at him. His fingers trace the space between your brows where he had just made an angry knot disappear. "I do hate it when I do that."

Maybe it was a tactic to get off the hook. But it was a good one. It even has you feeling guilty for being hard on him.

"I don't like seeing you covered in blood." You whisper, finally meeting his eyes. The glimmer there is triumphant.

"I'll hose off out front next time, how's that?"

You bite back a laugh at the image, trying to keep your stern disposition. You lean in, so as to impart the severity of your tone. "No next time."

Sukuna leans in closer, "And I'll have to get you a nurse's outfit."

"No next time!"

You were in love with the epitome of mischief. There was always going to be a next time.

#sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #fluff #I just want to give him a bath #and wrap him up in a towel #and smooch his cheek #Kuna has been bloody for months at this point #tw blood #short and sweet

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cherry-pop-elf · 21 hours

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Snuggle Company

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can be read as platonic ((because platonic love is valid!))

Summary: Umbridge has been giving everyone nightmares. You especially, given she is well aware how close you are to the twins. Has you paranoid she will hurt you in your sleep. So, who better to keep you safe than the twins themselves?

Warnings: Anxiety, Umbridge, stress, sleepy snuggles, and it’s very short 😣 Going through ALOT right now. Pls forgive me

Here you were again. Standing just outside the dorm doors that belonged to the seventh year boys. A pair of boys would be in there that you needed. Needed badly, because you had yet another nightmare. A nightmare about her.

You worried they would be getting annoyed by this. By you waking them up again, just to climb into bed with them. Would it be better that you just straight up moved in there with them? Would the other students in their dorm be annoyed by your presence? This wasn’t your assigned bedroom after all.

You tried to power through those worrying thoughts, as you pushed the door open. You were too scared of Umbridge to give a care about what others thought. She hated you. Hated you because those twins liked you. You were the enemy by association.

You would tip toe across the room, and would hug yourself tighter. Just worried about being a burden, and a bother. Something she would often say you were. Just attacking your insecurities. She was good at that. She was good at making people hurt. Oh she was damn good at hurting people, and getting away with it.

Finally, you reached the familiar bed. Fred’s bed. Well, Fred and George’s bed. They never really out grew sharing a bed. George’s ended up being a make shift work shop table for their inventions. You found it utterly adorable how they would hold each other. They had a special bond. Magic tended to play a heavy role in that, but you still found it sweet. How that no matter how old they get they would still make sure to be there for each other. No matter what. Was comforting to see that guys don’t always worry about masculinity.

“Psst….Guys-“ You gently shook George’s shoulder, as you tried to wake them up. Didn’t want to wake the other students up, but you also didn’t want to just climb into bed either. Could startle them. Or worse. They didn’t want you to, and you invaded their personal bubble. Consent is important after all.

“Hm-?” George would rub at his eyes, while Fred yawned. They were annoyed as hell, until they saw it was you who bothered them. George gave a comforting smile, before scooting away from his twin. Fred, in turn, lifted the blanket up. You gave a sigh in relief, before climbing between them. Snuggled safely between them both.

“Thanks.” You whispered, as they would wrap their arms around you. A tangled of limbs, just like that. Was so warm. So warm, and safe. No one could get to you now. Safe between a pair of tricksters. Just like that. The smell of fire crackers, and cinnamon. That was such a comforting scent to you. Baked goods, and fire.

“No pink toads will get you-“ “Not on our watch.” The twins would tease you, as they gave you a tight squeeze. A reminder that they weren’t going anywhere. Not without you, at the very least. That had you smile, and feel a weight lift off your body. Safe. Safe again.

“We’ve got plans for her. Don’t worry.” George would reassure you, as he would nuzzle into the back of your neck. Enjoying the warmth you gave him, as his arm reached over to keep physical touch with Fred. The two most important people he has, right in his arms.

“And it’s going to be utterly spectacular. Just you wait and see.” Fred would echo, as he rested his head on yours. Forcing your nose into his neck, as his arm did the same thing. Keeping George close, as you were all safely hidden under the blanket.

“Promise.” They would share, as you were already drifting to sleep. Safe in their strong arms, and knowing you’ll be safe by morning all the same. No scary toads to haunt your dreams. Just a pair of pranksters to defend you. No matter what.

Safe snuggles. What a dream come true.

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theriverspath · 3 days

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Ineffable May 2024, Day 30: Us

Rated General Audience

“Would you care to join us for dinner tonight? Crowley’s grilling steaks, and I’ve convinced him to make his famous bread pudding. The whiskey sauce is simply divine!” There was a look of sudden contrition on Aziraphale’s face. He glanced up at Crowley and laid a hand on his arm. “Sorry, dear. I only meant…”

“It’s fine, angel.” Crowley smiled into grey-blue eyes, his heart still fluttering at the casual use of that little word, us. Would he ever get used to it? He laid his hand over Aziraphale’s, intertwining their fingers as he lowered it to the space between them. Behind dark glasses, he shifted his attention back to the woman unloading bags of soil and mulch from her shopping trolly onto the checkout counter.

“Well, who could say no to famous bread pudding?” Crowley chuckled at the amused twinkle in her eye as she replied to the invitation. Carol was one of his favourite village residents. Her wit was as sharp as his, and her devotion to whatever she loved showed both in her gardening and her marriage. “Eileen has Morgan this weekend. That ok?”

“Of course! I’ve got the next Hardy Boys ready for them.” Aziraphale had been delighted to discover that Carol and Eileen’s child was a voracious devourer of children’s detective stories. The two had instantly bonded over it, and the angel had surprised Crowley by lending the kid copies of some of his own.

“Great. I think they’ve read the one they have now three times. I’m sure they’re ready to talk your ear off about it.” Aziraphale beamed at the prospect.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.” Conversation dissolved into general chit-chat as first Carol, then Crowley, paid for their purchases. They parted ways in the garden centre’s car park, promising to see each other again that evening.

Once everything was piled into the back of the Bentley, Crowley held the passenger door for Aziraphale before settling himself into the driver’s seat. About half way back to the cottage, Crowley reached over and brought Aziraphale’s hand to his lips. He brushed a kiss across the knuckles before returning it to the angel’s lap.

“Thank you, but what was that for?” There was a soft smile in Aziraphale’s question.

“No reason. Just enjoying being us.”

-------

prompt list

#ineffable may #ineffable may 2024 #south downs cottage #ineffable domestic bliss #domestic fluff #good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale/crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens ficlet #good omens fluff #aziraphale #good omens crowley #short and sweet #pure fluff

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hoomandoescosplay · 2 days

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Low Power Mode | Vox x Reader Oneshot

I let out a small groan as I turn to my side as I lay in bed. My hand instinctively reaches out and I only feel a cold pillow. I sit up rubbing my eyes as I notice the bed is empty.

I grab my glasses from the nightstand and put them on before getting up and leaving the room.

Vark notices me leaving but decides he’s too comfortable and stays curled up at the end of the bed. I begin walking towards Vox’s office and notice what time it is as I pass by a clock.

I run my eyes again tiredly. “Why in the world is he up this late?” I mumble being careful not to run into anything due to my grogginess.

Once I finally reach the office, I push the door open and step inside. My eyes immediately landed on Vox who is sitting in his chair with his eyes glued to the multiple screens on his desk.

I let out a sigh as I walked further into his office and leaned on his desk. “What are you doing up right now?” I ask as I push my glasses up.

“Working.” Vox hums as he glances at me with a smirk as he continues messing around with the technology on his desk.

“Do you know what time it is right now?” I continue with my questions to understand why he’s not in bed with me at this time.

“It’s three in the morning. Why are you up, doll?” He turns to face me, taking his eyes off his screens, putting his pen down.

I let out a little grumble as he starts redirecting questions towards me. “I woke up because you weren’t in bed.”

“Sorry about that.” Vox hums and stands up from his chair, making his way over to me before pulling me in to give me a kiss on the forehead.

I let a small smile linger on my lips at his affection before pouting up at him. “Vox you've been working too hard you need sleep.” I say as concern fills my eyes.

“Don’t worry doll, im fi—” Before he could finish his sentence his screen changed to show a warning screen. “Warning! Battery at 10%”

We just stare at each other in silence as I give him a knowing look that says “you’re fine huh?” I can tell he’s a bit flustered that I could read him better than himself which makes me smirk.

“You were saying?” I finally say breaking the long period of silence we were just in. “Fuck off.” He grumbles out before resting his head in the crook of my neck.

I chuckle, amused at how easily flustered he could be as I wrap my arms around him, pulling him in a bit closer.

Vox smiles as he buries his face a bit more into the crook of my neck, not wanting me to see that he was blushing. “I love you…” He murmurs under his breath.

“I love you too. Let’s go to bed please. You can finish your work tomorrow love.” I replied back to him as I continued to hold him in an embrace.

He lets out a huff, clearly not wanting to give up his work, but nods in defeat nonetheless. “Fine…” He grumbles, reluctantly pulling away from me as he grabs my hand and intertwins his fingers with mine.

I follow him happily back to our room as we both quickly get under the covers and I cuddle up into his side. He smiles as I cuddle into his side, pulling me closer and resting his chin on my head.

He begins to trace shapes and patterns on my back with lazy movements, a soothing gesture that makes me feel a deep sense of safety and comfort.

We eventually both fall into a deep sleep as Vark makes his way closer to us and decides to fall back asleep on top of Vox’s chest.

(Prompt idea from DuoChromeDrizzle on ao3!!)

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sunsetsimon · 3 months

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more random simon headcanons <3

☼ his favorite colors are black, blue, and grey. his personal style is very plain, black hoodies, white tee's, and black sweatpants are his go to. simon doesn't want to stand out any more than he already does with his large frame, so he opts for comfort over style.

☼ simon is very helpful around the house, constantly tidying up and fixing anything with a problem. he has no issue doing the dishes or folding the laundry, but for some reason he hates sweeping and mopping? you don't get it, it's not an intense or demanding chore, but simon claims that "it's too boring" and he'd rather trade something else with you. it becomes an agreement for him to do most things in the room, and then you come in after to finish with a quick sweep and mop.

☼ he's extremely low maintenance. he always buys the cheapest products he sees, opting for a basic body wash and 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner. when you first started dating, he didn't even own a proper face wash, using the bar of soap from his shower. simon isn't the type to have a whole routine, but he does pay more attention to the things he purchases so he can impress you with a new scented body wash or a moisturizer you'd mentioned.

one of his favorite gifts to ever receive from you is a bottle of cologne, loving the way you're drawn to him every time he gives himself a spritz. now every christmas he asks you to get him a new one that you'd like him to wear!

☼ cannot handle spice for the life of him. we all know that foods in the UK are usually seasoned with just salt and pepper, and not commonly spicy, so he's sensitive to it. something you may consider mild will have him breaking into a sweat and chugging down a bottle of water to ease some of the burn. his cheeks get flushed red and he just shakes his head in pain, reminding himself to never trust you when you say "oh it's not that spicy!" ever again.

☼ he has the lowest screen time, averaging about 20-30 minutes a day, and that time is spent either texting/calling you, taking photos of you, looking through photos of you, or making lists for you. the only extra app he has downloaded is goodreads, and even then you were the one that downloaded it and created his account. his passcode is set as your birthday too of course.

he's a little obsessed.

#short and sweet #trying to get back into things #.wbm #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader

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wallflowerwritesstuff · 19 days

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He bought flowers.

He bought flowers for you.

Well, you think he did, anyway.

When you'd left for work earlier that morning, the only vase you owned had been tucked away in one of the three closets you needed to clean out at some point, collecting dust and God knows what else.

But now it was on your kitchen's island, pristine as the flowers inside of it.

A mixed arrangement, the urge to google what kind some were pushed down by the shock of the sight before you.

You hadn't ever believed you'd get flowers from another person, let alone a man like Simon Riley. He didn't seem like the type, although, you had noticed his tendencies to try and give you whatever he could.

He'd offer the shirt off his back if you'd said so much as the word.

You can't help the smile that fights its way onto your lips. You can't stop yourself from reaching out and pulling the vase closer to smell them with a soft hum of appreciation.

Allergies be damned, you loved them.

(Almost as much as you loved him, not that you'd tell him that just yet.)

#simon ghost riley #short and sweet #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost x you #we are starting off slow #💚💚💚

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luneariann · 5 months

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The sillies

Based on a convo I had w my dear friend @afraid-of-the-deep-sea !! :)

#short and sweet #bsd #skk #chuuya #dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fanart #chuuya nakahara #soukoku #chuuya nakahara fanart #ely art #bsd skk #skk fanart #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #ely-comics

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bleedingoptimism · 2 months

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"I dreamt we had sex" Steve says out of nowhere, making Eddie choke and cough up a cloud of smoke from the joint that had just been handed to him.

"Wh- Huh?" is all he manages to say.

"It's stupid," Steve laughs not looking at him. Eddie deflates a little, but Steve keeps going, "Just as I was about to cum, I woke up," he says and then looks up at Eddie.

Who is blushing, very confused, and very horny.

"Do you know what that means?" Steve asks with a crooked smile.

Eddie shakes his head and sits up straight, dying to know the answer.

Steve's smile grows, "It means you are attracted to me" he declares.

And Eddie feels his blush intensify, he feels like he's been caught. Like he's being made fun of. He looks at his knees, where his hands are twisting the fabric of his sweats, and then looks up at Steve.

"It doesn't" he whispers in vain because it's obvious and too late to lie about now.

"Yes, yes, it does mean that," Steve whispers back, scooting closer on the couch they are sharing. His smile looks less amused and more kind now, soft and careful.

"I'm attracted to you," he says and Eddie's eyes go wide. He feels the heat coming off his face as Steve moves a little closer, hand going up to touch Eddie's red and hot cheek but stops a breath away, "And you are attracted to me but since you don't want to tell me," he pauses to smile because Eddie moves his face closer to Steve's hands, finally making contact and nuzzling into it, "You come into my dreams to tell me anyways."

☕🥐💕 coffee? dream stories?

#stranger things #steddie #short and sweet #i wrote something #steve harrington #eddie munson #the amount of game steve pulls on this one is off the charts #based on a french movie form the 2000s that i don't even remember

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onsomenewsht · 1 month

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Helpless to the bass and faded light

About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said

You don’t like football.

It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.

Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.

Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.

You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.

The things you do to make your parents proud.

How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.

“Pretty please, just this one”

“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.

You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.

“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.

The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.

Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.

“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”

She can.

“It’s a really important game, my love”

“For who?”

“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.

“I barely bear you playing”

“You love watching me play”

“I love you, period”

Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.

It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.

What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.

The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.

When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.

You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.

The things you do to make your lover happy.

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better never forget this”, you quip back.

The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.

She doesn’t need to know though, you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.

“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”

Nice try, you will not.

“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”

“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.

Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, its progress.

Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.

They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.

You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.

The one thing you all have in common.

“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”

Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.

“He sounds like an incredible father”

“Football obsession aside, he was good”

When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.

The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.

Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.

The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.

You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.

“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.

Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.

When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.

At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.

Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.

You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.

fine.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #lw6 #woso #here we are #short and sweet #i hope you enjoy it #my wo(rd)so

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carooosa · 5 months

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Can I Kiss You?

Word count: 600 Rating: Mature Pairing: Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader Warnings: 18+, kissing, grinding AO3 link: Can I Kiss You?

Summary: You decide to try something different with Astarion: kissing with no intention of going further

You’re leaning up against Astarion, your head gently resting on his shoulder as he reads a book. For the first time in a while, you have nothing planned for the day. You caress his arm holding up the book, watching intently as he flexes underneath your touch.

“Are you wanting to do something, love?” Astarion asks with hooded eyes.

“Well, yes-“ you start to reply before he tosses the book off to the side and starts to climb on top of you. You press your hands against his chest, creating a barrier between the two of you. “Wait.”

“Is everything alright? Am I going too fast?” Astarion asks with worry.

“No, nothing like that,” you reassure him, “I was thinking that maybe we could just… make out? With no intent of going further?” You wrap your arms around his body and look up at your lover with genuine affection, and he all but melts into your embrace. “Is that alright?” you ask.

A gentle smile appears as he whispers a delicate ‘yes’ before stroking your hair with one hand. He cups the other hand around your face and leans down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You reciprocate his touch by tightening your hug around him, kissing him sweet and slow in return. A delighted hum starts in the back of your throat as you take in the coolness of his lips against yours.

You grip onto his shirt and gingerly press your tongue against his lips. He accepts your advance and a tender dance begins between the two of you. Astarion holds you as you make out, playing with your hair.

You start to pick up the pace, growing hungry for more of the man you love. He slightly pulls your hair, causing you to gasp and open your mouth wider. He takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue deeper into your mouth. You feel him start to gently rock against your body, his growing erection grinding against you.

He pulls back from the kiss, his eyes wide as he asks, “Is this okay? Can I… grind on you?”

You smile as you hook one of your legs around his back, forcing him into you. “More than okay,” you whisper before taking his lips into a needy kiss.

He groans against your lips, the vibrations sending a wave of bliss through your face. He rolls his hips into yours, barely noticeable at first, before he begins to rock further into your body with each kiss. You match his rhythm and the two of you embrace the tenderness of the moment.

The kiss slows and Astarion pulls away from your lips, choosing instead to place small kisses all over your face. He rolls over and takes you with him, placing you on top of his body as he holds you tightly.

“That was nice,” he sighs.

You respond with a grunt before sleep takes you, the safety of Astarion's arms providing more comfort than you have felt the past few weeks. Astarion watches as your breath slows. He gingerly brushes your hair out of your face and places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He wouldn’t dare say it if you were awake lest you make some sappy monologue about how much he means to you, but in the quiet of his tent he whispers, “I love you.”

#astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #fics #astarion ancunin #bg3 #short and sweet #oneshot #gender neutral reader #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion x gender neutral reader

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ellabsbb · 9 months

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⋰˚☆ barista ellie headcannons ☕️

.⋆ first of all she looks SO hot in the uniform im drooling. okay sorry moving on

.⋆ wears the work hat backwards daily even though she gets yelled at by management for it every time

.⋆ you know what they say about gay baristas 🫡 she’s putting her whole ellussy into those drinks

.⋆ tries to flirt with a older lady and gets laughed at by her coworkers bc it goes so bad 😭 and she’s so embarrassed she has to go do some laps in the freezer

.⋆ literally is starstruck when she first sees you

.⋆ she stutters through the “how can i help you today” lmao

.⋆ gives you a pastry “on the house” which she immediately got in trouble for and it came out of her paycheck but she didn’t care because it was so worth it to see you smile like that

.⋆ has your order memorized by heart

.⋆ writes goofy lame pick up lines on your cup everyday

.⋆ “know what’s next on the menu? me n u” “are you wifi? because i feel a connection” “i lost my phone #, can i borrow yours?”

.⋆ acts sooo chill and nonchalant when you finally give her your number … only to start doing like. jumping jacks and dancing when you walk out of the shop LOL

.⋆ blushes sooo hard when you tell her you love the way she smells like coffee beans

.⋆ and then she stupidly smells her own armpit or something

.⋆ dresses up real nice for your first date and even asks joel if she looks good. (the real nice in question being a baby blue button up and jeans) (joel says yes) (and she totally calls him after and squeals in excitement to him that you said she looked good)

#ೀbunsdreams #posting in the middle of the night like always oops #short and sweet #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #tlou ellie #ellie williams x you #tlou #ellie williams imagine #barista!ellie

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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

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Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.

It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.

Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.

There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.

Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?

There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)

When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.

It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.

Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.

He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.

Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.

Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.

“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”

“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”

“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”

Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”

“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.

“Okay, then walk me through it.”

“What?”

“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”

“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”

“Because you’re scared.”

Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”

“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.

“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”

Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.

“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”

“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”

Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.

Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.

Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.

Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.

Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.

Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.

He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.

Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.

He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.

Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.

“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”

“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.

“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”

In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.

“How did you—”

Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”

Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.

“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?

“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?

“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”

Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.

“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”

So, so much.

#steve harrignton #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #stranger things #st4 fanfic #i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol #i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness #proposal au #hehe #short and sweet #excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped

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lopsaii · 5 months

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Mizuena for the soul

#short and sweet #love them SO MUCH #short brown hair x long pink hair seems to be my jam #ship wise i mean #mizuena #enamizu #akiyama mizuki #mizuki akiyama #ena shinonome #shinonome ena #niigo ena #niigo mizuki #n25 #niigo #nightcord at 25:00 #25 ji nightcord de #my art

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cherry-pop-elf · 21 days

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Morning Classes

Severus Snape x Reader

Summary: You spent the night in your boyfriend’s bedroom, at the school he works at. The issue with sleeping in a dungeon, is that you can’t tell when it’s sunrise. You slept in, and decided to make it known to everyone that Severus Snape CAN get some bitches

Warnings: None really, besides implied sexual content. But none actually. Also teenagers being teenagers, and poor Snape ready to have a heart attack

“Sevvy?” You yawned, as you would lift up your head. There you were, in satin sheets. Perfect for the muggy weather that the dungeons collected. Breathe able, light, and soft. Made you want to never leave the ink and emerald covers, but you wanted to get some breakfast with your boyfriend.

Another yawn left you, as you climbed out of the covers. Quick to steal one of his dress shirts, and cover yourself up in. You loved how it was a dress on you. Made you feel so safe, and warm. Emotionally, anyway. Despite the muggy weather of a dungeon, it can change and become so chill. Just a matter of when Peeves wants to snuff out the fire places.

“Sevvy? I want us to get some breakfast.” You called, as you stretched your body. The cold stones sending shivers through your feet, and up your spine. “And cuddles. I want more cuddles.” You cooed, as you would force open the heavy door. The one to lead to his classroom. Took some effort, but you broke through.

“Sevvy, sweetie? Let’s get some br…” Your heart dropped, as you froze. Seems you slept in, because class was in session. The familiar smog of the potions brewing filled the air, but never enough to hide the faces of his students. Along with himself.

The way every student was jaw dropped, at the realization that someone was in Snapes bedroom. Not only in his bedroom, but clearly having spent the night there. They just couldn’t process it, and neither could Snape. That ever cold scowl vanished, to be replaced with the most brilliant of pink cheeks. Seems Hogwarts was just a breeding ground of making sure he got embarrassed.

“Oh….I….Apologies….It can be kinda hard to tell the time, when you are underground.” You gulped, as you rubbed the back of your neck. You tried to step out of the room, but your back came into contact with the door. No way did you want to turn around, and risk exposing your naked butt to a bunch of kids. That’s not only gross, but also very embarrassing.

“Damn, kinda hot-“ A student said, causing Snape’s head to spin so sharply. You are surprised that no bones were broken in the process. As if he had time to figure out who said that. He had a partner to worry about. He cursed himself for letting you sleep in.

“Not. A. WORD.” He warned his students, as he quickly ran to your side. Swiftly he would take off his ever present cloak, and wrapped it around you. Let you be covered, as the students still stared. Never did they think Snape could be human. Find love, have a romance, be intimate with someone. It was just kinda assumed he was an entity all on his own.

“I am so sorry-“ You quickly whispered, with shame in your eyes. Way to go. You had to humiliate him. A man that’s been burdened with such all his life. You just had to give him more trauma. Way to go. That’s reading on your face like a book, and he won’t have any of that. He will break the cycle.

“I should have left a note-“ He tried to whisper back, but failed. The classroom was so silent, from shock, so much as his own heart beat could be heard. Was Snape taking responsibility for his own actions, and not wanting someone to feel bad? Who is this imposter? That was getting the class rowdy now.

“Students-“ He warned, but the teenagers in them were over ruled. They had so many questions. Who is this person? How did you two meet? Did you go to Hogwarts with him? Are you from another school? Pure blood? Muggle born? Did you top?!

“I uh. Just better go get some pants on-“ You swallowed, as he nodded. He was quick to open the door for you, and you ran in. It would then slam behind you, but it couldn’t muffle the gossiping of the class.

“Children-!” He warned, but their curiosity overruled their fear. They had to know. Who the hell were you?! Why would you settle for him?! So many questions, so little class time to figure it all out. They needed to know!

You made sure to hurry up, and slipped on some random bottoms. Along with a cozy top. Just clothes to actually wear, as to go out there and save your boyfriend. It must be an emotional nightmare to deal with. A bunch of students ganging up on him, much like his childhood. You will save the day.

“Hey everyone-! Sorry about that-! So uh. Hi! Yes, I’m his romantic partner. No, we didn’t meet at Hogwarts. I’m a-“ You began to rattle off, as to try and settle everyone down. Along with give Severus a moment to breathe. Breathe, and process what is happening. So much for staying under the radar.

“Why him?” Someone asked. Damn, even you could feel Snape’s death glare towards the student. Stings, but you snuck your hand to tangle with his. Comforting him, with brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Oh where do I start? Handsome, smart, charismatic, playful-“ That got a brow raise at the remark. The moment you kissed his cheek? Everyone was gagging, and making mock throwing up noises. You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips, at such foolery. Had you giggle, as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder.

“Thank Merlin, the bell-!” A student shouted, as the clock tower rang. Everyone was quick to bolt, leaving behind cauldrons full of left over potions. That had him rubbing his temples, but you already grabbed your wand. Working on the first one for him.

“The talk of the school….again….” He grumbled, as he would work on another one. He never liked being in the spotlight. If he could hide in the shadows, he would. Impossible now. Given the ‘scary potion master’ now had a romantic partner. Someone could love him? Such horror.

“Oh hush. Bet they are just jealous that I’m the lucky one.” You soothed, as you would give his cheek another kiss. Make that, multiple kisses. Just peppering him, and not willing to lighten up. Not until he smiled.

Took a minute, but he did. Just for you. He smiled, and soon returned a peck to your own. Far softer, and quieter. Just how he was. Like a gust of wind, in the moonlight. One of the endless reasons you adored him.

“So…..no breakfast-?” You puzzled, before he handed you over an apple. He had made sure to grab you something, after he had his own. He kept you in his thoughts. Had you just beaming, as you happily took it. Taking a large bite, as you now sat on his desk. Eye candy, as he worked.

Maybe today won’t be so bad after all. He’s in good company.

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