#arsene-blogging | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gpcwsl · 1 month ago

Text

Warnings: kissing, making out, suggestive.

(Thank you for who ever requested this. I lost the request )

Leah Williamson x Police!Reader

- Officer Charming -

MasterList

Leah Williamson had always prided herself on her calm, collected demeanor. Whether it was during her football days, facing down roaring stadiums and unforgiving opponents, or in her current life as a youth sports coach, she rarely let anything phase her. But all of that went out the window every time she saw you in uniform.

Your crisp navy-blue police uniform, the polished badge glinting on your chest, the confident stride—it all made Leah’s heart race in a way nothing else could. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone (yet), but she might have been developing a slight obsession with your job.

You first met Leah at a charity football match a year ago. The local police department had put together a team to play against retired professional players, and you had begrudgingly agreed to join. You weren’t much of a footballer, but you could at least kick a ball without embarrassing yourself.

Leah had been the opposing team’s captain, her natural charisma drawing attention even off the pitch. You had noticed her immediately—her sharp passes, her authoritative presence, and, later, her easy laughter during the post-match drinks at the pub.

“You’re not bad for a copper,” Leah teased, handing you a pint with a cheeky grin.

“And you’re not bad for a retired footballer,” you shot back, earning a mock-offended gasp from her.

The banter flowed effortlessly after that, and by the end of the night, you had exchanged numbers.

Fast forward a year, and the two of you were officially dating. Leah had adapted surprisingly well to your unpredictable hours and occasional late-night callouts. She even joked about the perks of dating a police officer, like always having someone to help her parallel park.

But there was one thing she hadn’t expected: how much she liked seeing you in uniform.

“Are you seriously just standing there staring?” you asked one morning, raising an eyebrow as you adjusted your utility belt.

Leah leaned against the kitchen counter, unabashed. “I can’t help it. You look… authoritative.”

You snorted. “I’m going to work, not a photoshoot.”

“That doesn’t make it any less distracting,” she said, her grin mischievous.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the flush creeping up your neck. Leah had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel electric.

One Friday night, Leah convinced you to join her and her friends for drinks at a local pub. It had been a rough week for you, and you were looking forward to unwinding.

Midway through the evening, one of Leah’s friends, Georgia, leaned over with a teasing smile. “Does Leah make you handcuff her for fun, or is that just a perk of the job?”

Leah nearly choked on her drink, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. You, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and played along.

“Only when she gets out of hand,” you said smoothly, earning a chorus of laughter from the table.

Leah shot you a mock glare. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Is that so?” you teased, leaning closer.

The banter continued, but later that night, as you walked Leah home, she tugged you to a stop outside her door.

“Do you actually have handcuffs with you right now?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

You smirked. “Leah Williamson, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” she said, pulling you closer by the collar of your jacket.

You didn’t need any more encouragement. Your lips met hers in a heated kiss, the tension of the evening bubbling over into a moment of pure connection. Her hands found their way to your shoulders, pulling you even closer as the world around you faded away.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Leah rested her forehead against yours, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Let’s just say I’m a fan of your job,” she murmured.

One afternoon, Leah decided to drop by the station to surprise you with lunch. She walked in, carrying a bag of your favorite takeaway, only to find you in the middle of interrogating a suspect.

She stood by the door, watching you work with a mixture of pride and amusement. Your no-nonsense tone, the way you commanded the room—it was mesmerizing.

When you finally finished and stepped out, she greeted you with a grin. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

You laughed, taking the bag from her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I wanted to see you in action,” she said, giving you a once-over. “And I wasn’t disappointed.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

Leah had always been a bit of a prankster, and one day, she decided to test your patience. She swiped your hat from the kitchen counter and put it on, striking a pose.

“How do I look?” she asked, her tone mock-serious.

“Like you’re about to get arrested,” you replied, fighting back a laugh.

She grinned, stepping closer. “And what if I don’t go quietly?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “Then I guess I’ll have to take you down myself.”

The tension between you crackled as Leah closed the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was equal parts playful and passionate.

“Careful, officer,” she murmured against your lips. “You might enjoy this too much.”

Leah had always been an excellent driver—at least, that’s what she claimed. But one day, while you were on patrol, you spotted a familiar silver car parked on a double yellow line outside a café.

You frowned, pulling up behind it. Sure enough, the license plate was unmistakable: Leah’s.

Shaking your head, you got out and strolled into the café, where Leah was seated by the window, happily sipping a latte. She froze mid-sip when she saw you in your uniform, your arms crossed and an unimpressed look on your face.

“Oh, hey, love,” she said with an innocent smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing your car outside on a double yellow,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Leah blinked, trying to feign ignorance. “Is that… illegal?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” you deadpanned, pulling out your notebook for effect.

“Wait, wait!” she exclaimed, standing up quickly. “You’re not actually going to write me a ticket, are you?”

You pretended to consider it. “Rules are rules, Leah.”

Her jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I might.”

Leah narrowed her eyes, a playful glint replacing her initial panic. “Fine, but if you give me a ticket, I’m putting pineapple on your pizza for the rest of your life.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Leah grinned, stepping closer. “That’s what I thought, Officer Killjoy.”

Later that evening, you both recounted the story to your friends, who unanimously agreed that Leah deserved at least a warning.

Leah had always been curious about your work gear. One evening, after a long day, you came home to find her examining your handcuffs with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” you asked, kicking off your boots.

“Just… looking,” she replied innocently, holding the cuffs up. “These seem pretty sturdy.”

“They’re meant to be,” you said warily.

Leah smirked. “How do they work?”

You gave her a pointed look. “Don’t mess with them, Leah.”

“Why? Afraid I’ll arrest myself?” she teased, already fiddling with the mechanism.

Five seconds later, there was a loud click. Leah’s triumphant grin faded as she realized she had successfully cuffed one wrist to the kitchen chair.

“Uh… love?” she said, her voice suddenly sheepish.

You stifled a laugh as you walked over. “Did you seriously just handcuff yourself to a chair?”

“It was an accident!” she protested, tugging at the cuffs. “A little help, please?”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave you here for a bit.”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, but her attempt to look intimidating was completely undermined by the chair dangling from her wrist.

After a few more moments of teasing, you finally unlocked the cuffs, shaking your head. “You’re a menace.”

Leah grinned, rubbing her wrist. “You still love me.”

“Unfortunately,” you said, pulling her into a quick kiss.

Leah’s love for your uniform reached new heights when she discovered your old academy photos.

You were tidying up one weekend when she stumbled upon a framed picture of you in your cadet days. You had a clean-shaven look, your hat slightly too big for your head, and a proud but nervous smile.

“Oh my God,” Leah said, holding the photo up. “Is this you?”

You groaned, snatching it from her. “It was my first day at the academy. I look ridiculous.”

“You look adorable,” she said, trying to grab it back. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“Because I knew you’d never let it go,” you replied, tucking the photo into a drawer.

Leah crossed her arms, smirking. “I’m going to need you to recreate that look for me.”

“Absolutely not.”

But a week later, you came home to find Leah wearing a cheap police costume she’d bought online, complete with a toy badge and plastic cuffs.

“What do you think, Officer?” she asked, striking a dramatic pose.

You burst out laughing, doubling over as she tried to look serious. “That’s… that’s terrible,” you managed between laughs.

“Terribly accurate,” she quipped, tossing the toy cuffs at you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, pulling her into your arms.

“And you love it,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

One evening, as you were both cuddled on the couch, Leah turned to you with a mischievous look.

“If I ever got arrested for real, would you bail me out?”

You snorted. “Depends. What did you do?”

She pretended to think. “I don’t know, maybe I stole something… like your heart.”

You groaned, pushing her playfully. “That was awful.”

Leah laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “You love it.”

And, of course, you did.

440 notes · View notes

gpcwsl · 20 days ago

Note

Lia wälti x reader where reader comes down with food poisoning and is beyond sick but still insisting she can go to training after spending their day off and the whole night being sick. Lia looks after her and tells her that she is not training she needs to rest

Lia Wälti x Reader

- I’ll be fine -

WC: 713

MasterList

Warnings: short, sick?

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring and immediately regret it. The moment you move, your stomach churns violently, a fresh wave of nausea washing over you. You groan, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes in an attempt to will it all away.

You’ve been like this since yesterday—your one day off, ruined by what you’re now certain was a bad meal. The day had started fine, but by the afternoon, you were battling stomach cramps, and by the evening, it was a full-blown war. A sleepless night followed, leaving you shaky, exhausted, and feeling like you’d been run over by a truck.

Still, it’s training day, and you’re convinced you can power through it.

You manage to sit up in bed, though it takes far more effort than it should. Your head feels heavy, your limbs even more so, but you start to shuffle toward the bathroom to splash some water on your face.

That’s when Lia appears in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between concern and disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to get up right now?” she asks, her Swiss accent soft yet pointed.

You freeze, mid-step, and try to muster up a nonchalant tone. “I’m fine, Lia. Just… a little tired, that’s all.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You’ve been throwing up all night. You barely slept. And now you think you’re going to training?”

You sigh, leaning against the doorframe for support. “I have to go. Jonas will kill me if I don’t show up.”

“Jonas will understand,” Lia counters, stepping closer to place a gentle but firm hand on your arm. “You’re not going anywhere in this state.”

“I can do it,” you protest weakly, though even you don’t believe it at this point.

Lia shakes her head, her expression softening as she guides you back toward the bed. “No, you can’t. And you don’t have to.”

You’re too tired to argue further, allowing her to help you sit down. Your body sinks into the mattress, relief flooding through you despite your stubbornness.

“I’ll be fine,” you mumble, though your voice lacks conviction.

Lia crouches in front of you, her hands resting lightly on your knees. “You’re not fine,” she says gently. “And it’s okay to admit that. No one expects you to push through when you’re this sick.”

You glance down at her, guilt creeping in. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

Her expression softens even more, and she reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re not letting anyone down by taking care of yourself. In fact, you’ll be letting the team down if you push yourself too hard and end up even worse.”

She’s right, of course, but it’s hard for you to let go of the guilt. You sigh, leaning your head back against the headboard. “I hate being sick.”

“I know,” Lia says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But that’s why I’m here—to make sure you rest, even if I have to fight you on it.”

True to her word, Lia spends the entire day looking after you. She brings you tea and dry crackers, though you can barely stomach either. She adjusts the pillows behind your back when you’re lying down and puts a cool cloth on your forehead when you complain about feeling too warm.

At one point, you manage to fall into a restless sleep, only to wake up to the sound of her soft humming. She’s sitting in a chair beside the bed, reading a book, but her attention shifts to you the moment your eyes flutter open.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, setting the book aside.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” you admit, your voice hoarse.

Her lips twitch into a small, sympathetic smile. “Sounds about right. But you’re not getting up until you’re better, understood?”

You nod reluctantly, too tired to argue anymore. “Thanks, Lia. For… all of this.”

She reaches over to squeeze your hand. “Always. Now, get some rest. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

And with her by your side, you finally feel like you can let go of the guilt and focus on getting better.

193 notes · View notes