#i want to find a place where i feel comfortable and where i can rest for the first time in my life
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rik0shii · 2 days ago
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lads guys headcanons
(zayne,sylus,xavier,rafayel,caleb)
warnings :fluff
request: yes
thank you for requesting, I'm new to doing those things so pls tell me if it wasn't to your liking or if it wasn't what you imagined so that I can fix it and get better !
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Zayne
• Super punctual—if you have a date set for 1 PM, he’s already outside at 12:50, waiting in his car just so he can call you at the exact time.
• Kids adore him. He has that calm, safe aura that makes even the shyest child want to hold his hand.
• ASMR king—his whispery, soft-spoken voice could put anyone to sleep. If he ever recorded voice memos for you, they’d be the most soothing thing ever.
• After a long mission, he welcomes you with quiet reassurances, hugging you from behind and murmuring, “You did great today. I missed you.”
• Loves holding your hand, whether it’s a quick squeeze of reassurance or intertwining fingers while walking.
• Soft, sleepy smiles—the rare moments when he’s tired but still awake enough to look at you and grin lazily.
• Would totally tuck a blanket around you if you fell asleep on the couch.
Xavier
• Definitely the “I know a spot” guy. And when he shows you? It’s breathtaking—some secret rooftop, a hidden garden, a quiet overlook.
• Hand-holding and forehead kisses in those quiet places where it’s just the two of you.
• If you’re on a mission and he’s not with you, he refuses to sleep. He’ll pace, check his phone, stare at the ceiling—anything but rest.
• CLINGS when you return. Arms wrapped around you, face buried in your neck, and a muffled, “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”
• Skilled with his fingers? Definitely means he can play the piano beautifully. Would learn your favorite song just to surprise you.
• Lowkey romantic in an effortless way. Always the guy to drape his jacket over you if you’re cold or tilt your chin up before a kiss.
Sylus
• Loves stargazing. If you ever go on a late-night drive, he’ll pull over just to sit on the hood of the car with you, pointing out constellations.
• Loves rainy days—the sound, the smell, the way it makes everything feel cozy. If it’s storming outside, he’s making hot drinks and pulling you onto the couch for a movie marathon.
• A big fan of sleepy cuddles. He’ll absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair while half-asleep.
• Writes little notes for you and leaves them in random places—inside books, on your mirror, tucked into your jacket pocket.
• Horrible at remembering dates but amazing at remembering tiny details—like the way you take your coffee or the song you hummed once three months ago.
• Unironically loves stuffed animals. If you ever give him one, he’ll pretend it’s no big deal, but you’ll definitely find it on his bed later.
Caleb
• Super protective but in a quiet way—he’ll walk on the side closest to the street, double-check locks before bed, and always notice when you seem off.
• Really good cook—if you’re having a bad day, expect a homemade meal that somehow tastes exactly like comfort.
• Loves fixing things for you. Broken zipper? He’s on it. Squeaky door? Fixed. Car won’t start? He’s already rolling up his sleeves.
• Acts grumpy but is secretly the softest. If you rest your head on his shoulder, he’ll pretend to sigh but won’t move an inch.
• Always warm. If you’re cold, he’ll just pull you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
• Reads a lot. Might not admit it, but he totally has a favorite book and will casually reference it in conversation.
• Loves slow dancing in the kitchen. No music, just the sound of your breathing and his steady heartbeat.
Rafayel
• Absolute charmer—he can flirt like it’s second nature, but when it comes to real feelings, he gets a little shy.
• Knows how to dress. If you ever need help picking an outfit, he’ll make sure you look stunning.
• Sends voice memos instead of texts. His voice is too smooth not to be used.
• Great dancer—whether it’s a fancy ballroom-style twirl or a goofy little move in the kitchen, he makes everything feel fun.
• Gives the best compliments—not just about looks, but little things like, “I love how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.”
• Cuddling expert. His hugs are always just the right amount of firm, warm, and lingering.
• Loves learning about you. Your favorite color? Noted. The way you like your tea? Memorized. A weird fact about something you love? He’ll bring it up just to see you smile.
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idrawprettyboys · 20 hours ago
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Advice for Aspiring Commissions Artists
I recently had someone ask for advice on how to sell art commissions, so I thought it would be nice to compile a list for others aspiring to do so, as well as to remind myself of some important things to keep in mind.
1. Have one tumblr blog strictly for art. People will follow it specifically because they like your art, and it will be easy for them to find your artwork without having to scroll through a jumble of other stuff.
2. Draw and post just about every day! Most people will say to draw every single day, but please let yourself rest. You will end up being miserable if you force yourself to draw when you aren’t feeling well. The more you draw, the more your art will improve, and the more followers you will naturally accumulate over time.
3. Post fan art to bring in fans. You don���t have to strictly draw fan art, of course. But people are more likely to interact if they’re familiar with the character already. A lot of people will follow you for fan art initially, and some of them will grow to love your original art as well.
4. Develop your own unique style. This will occur naturally over time. Learn from artists you love, and over time, your art will evolve into a mix of art styles you like into something uniquely yours!
5. It takes time to find supporters who are willing to spend money on your art. Building an art business is a slow process, and it takes patience and perseverance. Only a small percentage of social media followers will pay for commissions or Patreon support, but those few are precious.
6. Use every platform and website you can to share your art and have links between platforms, so your fans can find you in multiple places. Examples of places to share your art are social media sites like Twitter, Instagram, BlueSky, and Pillowfort, as well as art sites like Cara and Pixiv.
7. Get a Patreon and Ko-Fi account and be sure to provide links to these means of financial support on your art posts (especially the art pieces you’re proud of).
8. Make use of as many means of making money with art as you can. Sell prints on inprnt, sell stickers on Redbubble. Youtube videos can eventually give you ad revenue. If you make comics, Tapas is another option to make a little bit of ad revenue. You can use Etsy to sell originals, prints, or even commissions! Some people may feel more comfortable buying commissions through an official store like Etsy rather than on social media, so it’s good to have that as a back-up in addition to selling through other sites.
9. Use a secure payment method that you’re comfortable with! I recommend using PayPal with invoices, so that you have proof of their purchase in case anything goes wrong. A lot of artists use Ko-Fi as well.
10. Post your commission guidelines on all the sites where you post your art! Don’t be afraid to reblog/repost your commission price list multiple times!
11. Art commissions are not a steady job. You might get nonstop commissions for a couple months and then not get any for a few months. There are some times of year when people are less willing to spend money. I’ve noticed this happening towards the end of the year. At times when you aren’t getting commissions, I recommend doing a limited time sale!
12. Price yourself appropriately for the amount of effort it takes for you to get the work done! Don’t overprice or underprice! Ask your friends for advice on what you should charge. You’ll probably want to start low and slowly increase your prices as your work gets higher demand.
13. Make your commission price list legible! Check out other people’s sheets for guidance!
14. Have patience and perseverance! It may take years after you start posting before you get a commission, but the more you put yourself out there, the more you’ll get noticed!
15. Draw what you enjoy! Maybe cater to your audience once in a while, but your own happiness is important to give yourself the drive to keep on going!
16. Don’t be afraid to reblog your own art at various times of day, for maximum visibility! Not all of your followers will be online at the time that you initially posted it.
@artist-kreating-stuff
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wendichester · 2 days ago
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Can I please request a bf!Sam x reader where
At first, Dean and Sam are very worried, bc reader is gone since the morning and by now it's late afternoon and she hasn't returned yet
And when they go looking for her, they notice, hey, the GPS on the phone is on
And Sam goes to get reader, and finds her at a grave in the graveyard thats practically abandoned
And he finds out its the death anniversary of a close family member of hers, and she's been there all day to "talk" and take care of the grave
And he just comforts her on the shitty day, taking care of reader?
I have a death anniversary coming up in a few days of someone from my family I was close with, and it'd mean a lot if you could write this as a bit of comfort <3
𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ where you are,
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summary. sam finds you where you always go on this day—grief lingering, him standing by your side.
pairing. sam winchester x reader
wordcount. 424
warnings. dealing with grief and being alone ; angsty
notes. apologies if this one is coming a little too late. i honestly didn't notice it between the other requests. hope this brings you a little bit of comfort (despite late) and know my dms are open if you need 🤍
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Sam’s heart is pounding as he follows the GPS, boots crunching against dry leaves as he moves through the graveyard. The place is nearly abandoned, the air thick with late afternoon stillness, and he finally spots you, sitting cross-legged in front of a weathered headstone.
His breath leaves him in a rush.
You’re okay. You’re here.
He slows as he approaches, not wanting to startle you. He sees the small bouquet of flowers beside the grave, the way your fingers absently trace the carved name. He watches the rise and fall of your shoulders, the weight you’re carrying alone.
"You weren’t answering your phone," he says softly, finally breaking the silence.
You flinch, head snapping up, but when you see him, some of the tension in your body eases. “Oh.” Your voice is small, almost sheepish. “I—I didn’t think to check it.”
Sam exhales, closing the distance, crouching beside you. "Dean and I were worried. You were gone all day." His voice is gentle, no anger, just concern.
You nod, looking back at the grave. “I just… I had to come. It’s their death anniversary.”
Understanding washes over him in an instant. He doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him, doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out, his warm hand covering yours where it rests against the cold stone.
"I should’ve told you," you admit quietly. "I just—I didn’t want to make a big deal about it."
Sam frowns. “You being here all day, alone? That’s a big deal." His thumb strokes over your knuckles. "You don’t have to do this by yourself.”
Your throat tightens. "I just… I wanted to talk to them. Take care of the grave, make sure it’s not forgotten." You sniff, looking down. “It feels like if I stop coming, no one else will.”
Sam swallows hard. He understands that feeling too well. He shifts, settling beside you, one arm sliding around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest.
“They’re not forgotten,” he murmurs against your hair. “Not as long as you remember them.”
You let out a shaky breath, curling into his warmth, letting the exhaustion of the day press into him. He holds you tighter, rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble.
"Don't be." He presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Just… next time, let me be here with you, okay?”
You nod against him. “Okay.”
For a while, you just sit there, wrapped in his arms, letting the world go quiet.
And for the first time today, you don’t feel so alone.
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velidewrites · 16 hours ago
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thinking very hard about crying in front of sylas tonight. need to sob into his giant tits while he gets all big and scary and protective of me :/
You're suddenly enveloped by a fur cloak.
Sylas pulls you into his arms, the thick coat descending from his shoulders onto your own. This, you realize, is the very first time the two of you have ever stood so close — had you not sought him out in his war tent tonight, you might never have known the warmth radiating from his body, as if that fire simmering within him was as desperate for your touch as you are for its master.
He holds you in his arms with a strength that is gentle yet... reluctant. It makes you want to writhe against him until your bodies are welded into one at last, shattering that last bit of uncertainty, of hesitation, of the cold, cruel war that has so desperately been trying to drive you two apart. Somehow, he's always been able to find his way back to you.
Tonight, you finally managed to find him instead.
The featherlight touch of the fur against your cheek tingles, making you half-turn, burying your face into his chest subconsciously. You feel his muscles tense beneath your touch at the proximity, and a heat of your own begins to rise in your cheeks at your own boldness. The last time he'd tensed up beneath you like that, it was with the tip of your sword teasing his sternum, not your nose. How far the two of you had come.
He must be realizing it, too, as you feel his shoulders fall an inch, the broad hand on your waist moving to smooth over your lower back. He pulls you in closer, close enough now that you feel his breath brush against your temple before he rests his chin atop your head. Not once, in all those months on the opposing sides of the battlefield, did you ever imagine Sylas Vanserra like this. Let alone with you.
It dawns on you then that he's probably never comforted anyone this way — had never been comforted like that by another, at least not at a time when it would have mattered most. For a moment, the very thought makes you forget your own reasons for finding yourself in his tent in the first place, forget the nightmare that made you walk through the camp on shaky legs in the dead silence of the night. Sylas is holding you, and he's...
You dare to speak. "Sylas?"
"I'm here."
The response comes immediately, and it takes all the strength you have left to keep your body from melting into his own. Sylas's voice carries a rasp that makes you think — makes you hope — he's not the only one holding back.
"You're very good at this," you tell him, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest.
A small scoff sounds from above, and you can't help but let out a small chuckle.
"You make my compliment sound like an insult," you point out.
There's only a beat of silence between you before he finally says, "It's not."
You sigh. It's as if the sound of his voice had somehow dissipated all the tension in your body and quietened the raging storm of your sleepless mind. "I'm glad you think so." You turn your face to the side again, then, letting your cheek rest right above his heart — right where you know a horrible scar begins, twisting his skin into patterns of flames rising all the way up to his neck. He hides it, even without the bronze plates of his armor, and he hides it well. But you know — know he hates himself for it, and you've seen enough to understand who truly is the one at fault. Even if Sylas himself does not.
"Like this, I can hear your heart," you murmur, hoping its strong, if not a little rapid resonates with your own. Perhaps then, the two of you will finally sleep.
You might already be drifting away — or maybe his question is barely audible enough for you to catch, buried under the warm embrace of the furs. "What is my heart telling you?"
You smile.
"I think it's agreeing with me."
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lizbethborden · 2 days ago
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When Elon seig heil'd at the inauguration, I saw bewildered posts #onhere sputtering about "why aren't Jews talking about THIS," in a sort of self-defensive way from those charming antisemites who think it's praxis to reblog blood libel.
Having spoken to a Jewish mutual about this, what I'm wondering is if, well--first, let me get it out of the way: antisemites are not seeing "Jews" talking about things because they have long since been blocked by Jewish people and/or have never or rarely sought out places to find Jewish output, such as the jumblr tag. (Moreover, posts specifically about Jewish issues usually hit a ceiling; from my own experience, I have had several feminist posts go my version of viral here (a couple hundred notes) within the past week-2, while generally speaking people do not interact with my posts about Judaism and antisemitism.)
The other part, the actual insight, is this: this kind mutual (who I will @ if they are comfortable with it, but I don't want to assume) and I chatted about how we could understand our grandparents and great-grandparents having to go on with their lives essentially in the shadow of their own doom, because it's what we've had to do. And frankly, Jewish people have been doing that for significantly longer than the rest of the US population at large. Everybody else is simply calibrating to where Jewish people have been for a long time as we watched pro-Palestinian activists dox hundreds of Jews in Australia, an organized "Jew Hunt" in Amsterdam become rewritten as noble Dutch activists heroically defending Palestine against evil Israeli soccer fans, an American university become plastered with "wanted" posters of Jewish faculty, and people just walk up to random Jews and stab them yelling "Free Palestine."
(And much of this before everyone and their wannabe leftist cynicism, disinformation campaigns, latent and in some case blatant racism, etc and so on voted back in the guy that said of the Charlottesville Neo-Nazi rally, where white men chanted "Jews will not replace us," that there were "fine people on both sides".)
I will repeat my main point. If you are only now feeling bewildered, out of your depth, terrified, confused as to how you can get up each day, put your shoes on and go outside, go to your job, your class, shop for groceries, cook your meals, all the while a massive shadow falls ever more heavily onto you--you are just catching up to where Jewish people have been for a long-ass time. And simply put, you haven't been paying attention. That's your own fault lol sorry bout it
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blackbat05 · 1 day ago
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Night time Comfort - Sincaraz
Plot: Set after R4 against Holger at AO. Carlos decides to make a trip to check in on Jannik.
A/N: Ummm so my first Sincaraz fic?!! Much thanks to @ohohoseok cuz she gave me ideas from her own fixations?🫶🏽😆 Enjoy!
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“Game, set, match. Sinner.”
Carlos switches off the tv with a sigh of relief. Although he felt sad for Holger, but he was glad that Jannik had made it out of the excruciating Australian heat with a much needed win.
“He didn’t look good. For a moment I thought he was going to retire.” Juan Carlos observes.
“Jannik’s strong,” Carlos says with admiration. “I would have. It’s why he’s the best.”
Juan Carlos and Alberto’s stares to each other don’t go unnoticed by the young star. Carlos stands and changes out of his hotel room wear.
“Carlos, where are you going?”
“Honey lemon.” Carlos blurts out and quickly adds, “The match made me thirsty.” He grabs his keycard and makes a beeline for the door to stop the onslaught of questioning from his coach.
“Sure, honey lemon.” Alberto snorts.
***
Carlos tugs at his tee for what is the umpteenth time on the way up to Jannik’s room. Would it be too intrusive? Would he look too aggressive? Would Jannik be well enough to talk to him?
The lift stops at the designated floor and Carlos’ feet suddenly feel like lead. He takes a deep breath and walks to Jannik’s room, hoping that he has managed to catch the star of the day.
The door opens as Carlos is mere feet away from it and Simone steps out together with Darren who spots him holding a bag of drinks.
“Carlos!” Simone strides over. Before Carlos can even come up with an excuse, Simone rattles away, “Could you stay with Jannik for a while please? It won’t take long. I have to cancel the courts tomorrow and Darren has a last minute interview with the press.”
Carlos is wide-eyed at the request but like the champ he is, he recovers quickly and agrees.
Which is how he found himself in the same room. Alone. With Jannik who is currently sleeping, blissfully unaware of his presence.
Carlos is at a lost. He’ll just have to rely on his mechanical movements to get him around the room. First, honey lemon in the fridge-
“Carlos?”
Crap. Clumsy! He thinks. Carlos turns around and he almost has to steady himself on the mini bar at the sight of Jannik who looks absolutely adorable and confused at the sight of him.
Jannik grasps his glasses at the bedside and switches on the lights. “Carlos, why are you in the dark? You could be hurt.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.” A moment of silence passes and Carlos holds up the bottle of honey lemon awkwardly. “For you! If you want to drink now.”
Carlos nearly topples the bottle on the table that has Jannik cracking a smile. “I would like one.”
Carlos grabs a bottle and places the other in the fridge. He shuffles over to Jannik and hovers where Jannik is propped up on a bunch of pillows.
“Carlos, sit.” Jannik offers.
“No, no. You need the space.”
“Please.”
How could Carlos deny Jannik’s request when the Italian is looking at him behind those thick rimmed glasses so innocently?
Carlos looks around the room and finds a solution. “Could I? Uh…” He points to the makeshift sofa bed. “I can push it together.”
“There’s more than enough space for two of us.” Jannik pats the bed beside him, unaware the effect that his action has on Carlos.
“It’s okay, I’m strong. I don’t want to dirty the bed.” Carlos insists and speedily gets to work, pushing the sofa bed towards Jannik who looks amused. After displaying a show of strength, Carlos hops onto the sofa.
“Great game today.”
“Did you not see me? I almost felt like throwing up.” Jannik responds. “You’re too nice.”
“I’m serious.” Carlos frowns. “You were great out there today.”
“Thank you Carlos. I just hope I’ll get enough rest to be ready for the quarter finals.”
“Then rest.” Carlos says, moving closer to Jannik to help him with the pillows. “Simone and Darren should be back soon. I’ll be here.” Carlos pauses.
“That is if you’re okay with it.”
***
“Darren!” Juan Carlos calls out. “Did you see Carlos by any chance? He was supposed to be back an hour ago.”
The older man shakes his head. “But I think I might have an idea…”
The pair heads up to Jannik’s room where Simone is already outside, signaling them to maintain silence.
“They’re sleeping.” Simone tells them, opening the door to the dimly lit room.
Juan Carlos quietly follows them in to find a sight to behold: The sofa bed pushed to be side by side to the bed, his student crammed uncomfortably on the mentioned sofa bed, sleeping without a care in a world, with Jannik wrapped in a blanket beside him.
“Carlos? Wake up.” Juan Carlos nudges him gently.
“Eh?” Carlos blinks the sleep out of his eyes to find the three men staring down at him. “Sorry! I forgot the time.” Carlos fumbles slightly but remembers not to wake the ginger at his side.
After a couple of hushed goodbyes (and Carlos’ insisting that they leave as soon as possible to not disrupt Jannik’s sleep, the pair leaves to head back to their room with Carlos unusually quiet on their way back down.
Still, Juan Carlos does not let this golden opportunity pass.
“So…”
“Not a word Juan Carlos. Not a word.”
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jumpingjoltiks · 1 day ago
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Um hiii!! Could I request an x reader for ingo and emmet (seperately) with a reader who is autistic but like. REALLY masks? Like a level of masking where the boys don't even know that they're autistic at first, and they're VERY different when they aren't out in public/don't feel the need to mask. I love ur writing btw >_<!!!
AAAA Thank you smmm! I’m so happy you’ve enjoyed my work! <3 <3 <3
I’ve already written a little bit about the twins being autistic already, so I’m happy to get to finally write some x reader stuff to go with it!
Biiiiig mood. I've spent most of my life masking, so I think a lot of this will probably come from my own experiences. I ended up making this a few different sections instead of just one, all coming out of different ideas I had. :)
The twins with someone who is also autistic, but masks heavily
Ingo Gets It. He understands the fear and the pressure to fit in. Emmet doesn’t, but he tries his best to respect your decision (though, secretly, he wishes you’d be more yourself. Both boys love when you’re being the most authentic version of you, but Emmet really wants to see it all the time).
Being actually comfortable around them takes a while (as it would with anyone) – its hard work to decondition yourself like that, to convince yourself you’re really, genuinely safe being yourself – but the twins’ (especially Emmet’s) refusal to mask is enormously helpful in this regard. Their unabashed devotion to being exactly who they are is inspiring.
Emmet devotedly listens to your infodumping, especially if it’s something he’s also interested in. Ingo is thrilled to find someone else who will listen to him too. Late in the evening, when Ingo is cooking and you’re all three in the kitchen together, you all talk like no one has ever looked at you strangely before – open and honest and genuinely excited just to share knowledge and enjoy this moment together.
There’s a certain amount of bluntness between you three, but none of you really mind. If hurtful words are ever said, you can be sure that they weren’t really meant to be cruel. You can always talk things out. Emmet, in particular, has trouble with his straightforward attitude, and sometimes says things that come out wrong – do you as well? He knows how hard it can be to find the right way to say things.
And if you don’t feel like spending time together right now, the twins understand that too. There have been plenty of days when one or the other will come home and lock themselves in their room for a while, just to cool down. If you should come home from your job or a grocery run and need some time, they’ll handle the rest.
Decompression
Would it surprise you to know that it’s Emmet who catches on first? There’s a good reason for that! He’s had a lifetime of keeping an eye on his brother, who also used to heavily mask.
Your own tells are different then Ingo’s, to be sure, but they’re there regardless.
After a tough day, you’re taking the subway home. He notices that your posture and gait are different & your expression is stiffer. You’re clinging to your sense of self-control.
He’s got things he needs to attend to, but you’re a dear friend… your wellbeing comes first, he decides. Emmet doesn’t hesitate to fall into step next to you as you traverse through the station.
“Good afternoon! Are you doing alright?”
You know he’s not one for small talk… so what is he doing? The flash of a puzzled look crosses your face before you smile up at him. It’s humiliating, but you can’t seem to summon up words right now. This will have to do.
Emmet knows smiles. Yours is tight and strained, not at all like your usual smile. And you haven’t answered. He doesn’t like this at all. All signs are pointing to a systems crash.
“Your engine is overheated. I can tell. Do you need a place to step aside for maintenance? My office isn’t far.”
You stare at him blankly, trying to parse exactly what kind of metaphor he’s making.
But you’re too overstimulated and tired to put too much thought into it. Eventually, you sigh and nod. He leads you through the crowd with swinging arms and legs, and people part before him.
The office is an open space that is fastidiously tidy. A sofa is tucked against one wall, opposite is a set of shelves with all kinds of books and files neatly arranged. A pair of matching desks are stationed toward the back of the room. You’ve never been in here, but somehow you instinctively know that this is a safe place for you.
“I have a mini fridge. You are welcome to any of the snacks and cold waters I have. There are also noise cancelling headphones if you want. I know that Gear Station can be verrrrry noisy when overstimulated.”
You think that’s the longest stretch of words you’ve ever heard Emmet say, and you can only stare up at him wordlessly in response. You didn’t realize he had you figured out. Shame threatens to creep in, but then he smiles as he holds out a bottle of ice water to you. He smiles like he knows. There isn’t a single trace of pity or belittlement in it, only understanding.
You take the bottle of water with a small, genuine smile of your own. It’s the first one you’ve had all day.
When you sit down on the couch, Emmet takes off his coat and places it over your shoulders. It’s pretty big on you… but it’s also really heavy. You hadn’t realized it was weighted this whole time. The pressure feels nice, and you bury yourself into it. Emmet seems pleased, like he knew this would happen.
“I am going to do some paperwork at my desk. Would you like the lights off?”
You nod wordlessly and he flicks the light switch off in response. The only light in the room is the warm glow of a desk lamp, focused down onto his work station and away from you. Even the faint hum of electricity that would usually come out of a lamp like that is silent, which is an enormous relief.
The only sound for the next hour is Emmet’s pen near silently sweeping across the pages of his work. You stay quiet and buried under his coat, eyes closed and dozing somewhere between sleeping and waking. You feel safe.
After what feels like an age, you shift from under the coat and re-emerge, feeling much better. Emmet’s eyes flick up to you.
“Do you feel any better?” he asks. His voice is quiet.
“Yes.” You answer, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
He cuts you off. “Do not apologize. Ingo and I have spent many afternoons doing the same. I’m just glad I was there to offer help.”
From that point on, things are… different between you and the twins. Emmet must have told his brother about what happened, because Ingo is more open around you.
You’ve been friends for a long time, but something seems to have unlocked now. The three of you quickly catch like a struck match.
Parallel Play
You spend a lot of time over at their place, and they at yours. Expect Ingo to politely ask if he or Emmet or both can come spend time with you.
This worried you at first, when you were still friends and not yet dating, but the twins don’t actually want your attention, per say. They just want to be in the same room as you while they do their own thing. Not having to “host” takes so much pressure off of you that you wonder why anyone entertains any other way.
Ingo will be reading, curled up in one of your chairs or on a couch, so still you’d think he was asleep if not for the intermittent turn of a page. Emmet is reviewing battle plans and notes, spread out across your table, one leg bouncing. Occasionally, he gets up to pace and mutter to himself, not looking at either you or his brother. You’re working on one of your hobbies in the living room. Not one of you bothers the others. It’s… peaceful. And nice, just having them unobtrusively nearby.
Do you stim? They have a cache of puzzle-y, twisty toys and clickers in a drawer. You’re more than welcome to them, or to anything else you need.
Eventually, if you’d like, you can curl up with Ingo underneath the weighted blanket he’s got spread across his lap. He’ll swing an arm around you without looking up from his book, and you listen to his heartbeat and steady breathing as you nod off.
Or Emmet might come over to you and quietly offer you a warm mug of hot chocolate. The two of you sit back-to-back in silence, sipping your drinks and working on your respective projects.
How nice it is, you think, to spend time with those who understand.
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retiredteabag · 2 days ago
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sorry for informality but i was stalking reading your pinned post and you’re in grad school at twenty!??!!!
unless i’m tripping or misunderstanding something, academic weapon tips please because holy shit that’s insane! what’s ur field of study if you want to talk about it/don’t mind me asking? any application tips/things you wished you knew before getting there/habits you wished you’d formed sooner? independent research has always been difficult for me because of how much i depend on structure (adhd imposter syndrome anxiety lets go) so if you’re working on a thesis/something similar, how has the process been in your experience?
i’m in undergrad atm and heavily debating going further, so i’d love to hear from someone my age who’s actually doing it! also unrelated, but i’m a certified notion/goodnotes girlie if you vibe with those as study resources!
🎸 tagging with an emoji in case i pop back around, yk?
I'm sorry to say, but my tips might come off as sort of typical... but I hope they're at least a little helpful!
I am currently in a masters program within the analytics field. Research/independent studies vary widely depending on the area of specialization, however, my program has an intensive practicum that is similar in nature. I have not started it yet, but what I can say for sure when it comes to research: make sure you are picking a topic that you could speak about for hours/answer argumentative questions about.
For applications, I would say to narrow your options down as much as possible and look into each program before applying. Know the curriculum and standard outline and what stands out to you as you decide.
^ on this same note, you will likely need at least one interview in the application process. Speak slowly and enunciate. Taking a moment to think of the proper words will always be better than speaking quickly without much thought. Most people say to use "down-speak" in these interviews, but in my experience, matching the examiners tone and energy makes the whole thing much more comfortable.
For study tips, I have a large notebook that I keep on my desk where I write down every assignment and the date that it is due. This is just for organization purposes, I find a physical copy helpful for a few reasons but also because crossing them off feels rewarding :]
Time managment is incredibly important. Everyone says this because it is true. Prep everything, organizing your day into chunks. Since you also like structure, this probably wont be an issue. I would also get comfortable with being self-aware of your priorities. There will come a time when you will need to choose between academics/work and other areas of your life.
Keep your spaces clean. Dedicate a day or so to just organizing/doing a deep clean. It will help you stay focused and minimize external anxiety. It’s also much easier to keep a place clean if you have put in such an effort.
Participate in class. I cannot make this clear enough. I promise it is not embarrassing to ask questions or "try". You will learn far easier if you put effort into the classroom/lecture setting.
It is a pretty typical "tip" is to just ask questions. Even if you feel like you might understand, just ask to make sure. And in this same vein, go to office hours if you need to.
Prioritize sleep lol, that and mental rest. You can't always be studying. For me, it is a real challenge to work and be full time in school so it's important to carve out those sections of "you time".
Try not to be on your phone tooooooooo much, I know it’s hard but I make an effort to not be on my phone while eating. Don’t use entertainment as a distraction, I find that it just delays anxiety :(
Lastly, apply for scholarships and know that you absolutely can appeal for more money.
I hope this was useful. Do know that it REALLY depends on your area of study and 5-year-plan. I would recommend not going to grad school unless you're absolutely sure it is worth it.
Good luck!
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sitp-recs · 23 hours ago
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hi!!! i appreciate everything you do and your fics are always soooo goood, last night i read a drarry fic that upset me and now im in need of fics where draco feels safe with harry and seeks comfort in him. so if you have any kind of fics with that vibe id appreciate it very very much, take your time, and thank you for looking into it!!!
Thank you for the kind words, anon! I’m sorry you’re feeling upset, I hope these fics work for you 🫂
in advance by M0stlyVoid (E, 3.5k)
Draco's been scared of fire since the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry likes wax play. This is how they work together to face Draco's fear and get what they both want.
Silence series by RurouniHime (E, 10k)
It was his battle, yet he never hurt me, and he could have.
Solve Us Like a Mystery by tryslora (T, 12k)
When Harry stops in at the bookstore where Draco works, they find a surprising shared interest in mysteries.
The Body Keeps Score by amorsindolor (E, 13k)
Draco cries during sex. A story about touch, intimacy, and the healing we find through mutual trust and love.
Between Myth and Man by slytherco (E, 16k)
Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning.
Vale Sanare by RurouniHime (M, 23k)
Draco’s world gains a new component just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.
In Your Arms, Rests My World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 24k)
Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it. “You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”
Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)
Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.
As Souls From Bodies Steal by Femme (E, 41k)
Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter.
Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)
Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.
The Paradox of Active Surrender by korlaena (E, 108k)
When Draco shows up as a suspect in a murder case after eight years of no contact, Harry has to balance his professional life and his past friendship with Draco.
A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)
When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter.
There Is Always the Moon by firethesound (T, 159k)
Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him.
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hustling-starley · 1 day ago
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She perks up at the mention of cosplays, remembering a conversation they'd had a while ago. The very same conversation where they'd ended up having that sleepover, and started dating. And she gets an idea.
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"It'd definitely be fun! Plus, if you've got the Rosalina outfit, I could just dress up as Daisy to match with you! I ditch those boring plumbers and let Peasley handle Luigi, and fall in love with a super hot galaxy goddess!"
She laughs, imagining herself telling the tale of this Alternate Universe to fellow con-goers, and seeing the reactions range from running with the story, to being utterly baffled. Maybe even annoyed, but she and Ame could always cast a curse on them, so that would still be amusing.
She pulls away for a moment to grab her purse, attaching the Kuromi keychain to it before throwing it over her shoulder.
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"But well, if Princess Ame-chan really wants to steal me away for the day... why don't we take this party back to your place, hmm~?"
. . .
By the time the two of them arrive at Ame's apartment, Grayson's sitter has thankfully already arrived to take her boy off her hands. Now, nothing and nobody could distract her from Ame.
She can tell Ame's been eager to have her to herself, thanks to her insisting she cut the stream early, and her flickering of the lights growing rapid. Truth be told, Harley was kind of relieved Ame came when she did, considering the fatigue of streaming since early in the morning had started to take a toll on her. Even if it was fun, full of party and trivia games with friends.
She steps inside, duffel bag full of the same supplies, snacks, and some overnight clothes as the last time she was here. She stretches with a loud whine, cracking her back as she huffs.
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"Hooooh, what a day... Feels like I'm coming home after work, but infinitely better because I wasn't bored to tears."
She sits back and relaxes on Ame's couch, already getting comfortable. Though, she ends up throwing any extra mess she finds into a trash can nearby.
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"Y'know, when your birthday rolls around, you're gonna wake up to a whole new apartment. Spick and span, and I'll be wearing the sickest costume imaginable. And you'll go 'woooow, Harleyy, you're so sweet! My knight in shining armor deserves a rewaaaard~' and then those nerds will go hungry for the rest of the week!"
She teases, imitating Ame's voice.
Harley snorts at Ame's comment. She really does know me so well, huh?
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"Well, duh. It's my birthday, so if I wanna postpone the stream, I can always use birthday privileges. Besides, I've already been going for 12 hours anyway."
She sighs, nuzzling into Ame's neck. "You're a better birthday present than any of those losers combined."
She was only making a lighthearted jab at her followers, which they've long come to expect considering her status as a Digital Demon, but the sentiment about Ame was genuine. She's shown much more of herself to Ame than she has to anyone else over these past couple of weeks. More of her mind, her body, and her heart.
Not that she hasn't been open with her friends and her Aunt, but she loves them in different ways. Ame was just as important to her now, especially with how much the both of them know about each other. They could tear each other apart, a mutually assured destruction that would ruin the both of them in an irreversible way. But neither of them wanted to, and that in and of itself was a miracle.
Both of them were no strangers to sarcasm, laughing at clichéd stories they could never see themselves in. But they were laughing together, weren't they? They could always make their own stories together, ones that served them better.
Making fun of bad movies at the theater, playing arcade games together, walking through the city and visiting the park, going to the Aquarium, having fun at the Amusement Park���
The future was full of endless potential, endless possibilities, endless adventures. And Harley wants to explore as much as she can with Ame.
She's never imagined herself settling down with anyone, because really, who in the world would have the patience, the dedication, the willingness to play along, the ability to keep up, slow her down, or have the openness to spend on her? Who would want to? And yet here Ame is, with a gift for her. It was small, something she probably bought last minute, because Harley didn't tell her when her birthday was. The fact that Ame went out of her way for her, especially when compared to Ame lacking the motivation to clean her own house… it's special.
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She gasps once she opens the gift, marveling at the small key chains Ame had gotten for her. In that signature Jirai Kei style she'd come to associate with Ame, though it was hardly a bad thing.
In fact, when she'd see outfits relating to it come up on her feed, she'd saved them as something to show to Ame later. It makes her feel warm, imagining Ame's delighted expression at what she could wear for her next outing.
Matching key chains, a symbol of the two of them being inseparable, proudly wearing the fact that they're together without risking Ame's career. In a way, it was genius. Secretive, but not ashamed.
She smiles, full of fondness, and a feeling that leaves her holding her arms behind her back. Bashful, as she holds onto both of the chains. Love.
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"I want Kuromi." She finally says, taking one of the key chains. "She reminds me of you, so I wanna look at her whenever I can't look at you, or I miss you. Not that she could ever beat the real deal, but… yeah."
She then steps forward, pulling in Ame for a kiss as she puts the My Melody key chain in her hands.
"Plus, if I'm gonna live rent free in your head, I gotta be pretty in pink, yeah?"
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robinsnest2111 · 11 months ago
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overwhelmed with the feeling of how much I want to leave this hellhole of a house for good
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what-even-is-thiss · 6 months ago
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The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.
My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.
If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.
I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.
But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.
I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.
But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.
So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.
My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.
But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.
I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.
I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.
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heeliopheelia · 11 months ago
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓
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genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff
word count: 4.3k
warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding
a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!
masterlist
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LEE HEESEUNG
It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 
“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”
It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.
“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”
“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”
He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 
“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 
“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 
He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 
You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.
After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”
He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.
And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 
“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 
Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.
That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 
“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.
“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 
You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”
“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”
“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”
Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 
“Really?”
Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”
You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”
He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”
“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”
Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”
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PARK JAY
The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 
His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.
Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 
And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 
“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 
The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 
“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.
“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”
“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 
Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 
Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 
A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 
With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 
You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.
And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 
You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 
You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 
There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?
Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 
And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 
You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 
“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”
“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 
He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 
He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 
“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”
“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”
Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 
He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 
“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”
“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 
“I love you.”
With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.
“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”
He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.
He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.
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SIM JAKE
“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”
He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”
“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”
Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.
You’re honestly getting tired of it.
“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 
“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”
“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”
“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”
To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 
“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”
You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.
Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 
You feel awful. 
Jake feels even worse. 
Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 
“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”
“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”
At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 
You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.
“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”
“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 
“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.
“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”
The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”
“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 
His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.
“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”
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PARK SUNGHOON
“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 
And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.
“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”
“Fucking- Fine.”
Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 
You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 
“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 
You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”
“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”
The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 
“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”
No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 
“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”
With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 
He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.
“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 
He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.
So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”
You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 
“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”
And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 
He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 
You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 
“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”
You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 
“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”
You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”
His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”
You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”
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poguehearted77 · 3 months ago
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Baby Steps
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Summary: You and Rafe are expecting your first child and decide to take a trip to the beach, not expecting to be joined by a guest with chubby cheeks and pull ups.
-some more domesticated rafe as per your request-
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The golden hues of the late afternoon sun stretch across the horizon, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Rafe arrive. You smile at the feeling of the hot sand between your toes.
The waves lazily lap against the shore, creating a serene soundtrack to your special day. It was a beautiful day out, for sure. With the cooler gripped in one hand, with the umbrella on top, and the box containing a special mini cake in his other hand, Rafe is already in full preparation mode.
“Here, let me help with that,” you offer, but Rafe shakes his head, his grin both charming and determined. "You're already carrying something valuable, let me handle the rest, okay?" Rafe reassures you as he places the items down in a nice vacated space.
Far enough from the waves to not get wet, but close enough to still hear the water cracking against the sand at an amplified volume as the perfect white noise for you to do some beach reading. You glance down at your rounded belly, letting your left hand rest over the precious cargo he's referring to.
"I'm only four months, babe. I can still carry things. Just let me help you set up at least." You hold onto the muscle of his upper arm with a soft frown and he can't resist. An idea visibly dawned upon him. "Yeah, you know what." He props open the cooler and pulls out a chilled bottle of water, "I need you to drink this, I don't want you to get too hot."
Your eyes roll and you take the bottle, about to ease yourself down onto the beach chair when Rafe is suddenly behind you, a guiding palm on your lower back to lighten your load as you sit down. "Rafe, you're joking, right? I know how to sit down by myself." You huff and he sees you're starting to get frustrated.
He crouches down to be near you, "Look, baby. I'm sorry, okay? It's all just so new to me and I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby especially not if I can help it." Your arms unfold, and your composure melts under his apologetic gaze.
How could you be mad at him? He was just so cute and excited to be a dad, he wanted to make sure you had the safest, most comfortable pregnancy possible, and he made sure of that at all times. He set up everything while you didn't lift a finger.
You'd even slipped into a light nap as he did so. Waking up under the shade of the beach umbrella and almost certain there was an extra layer of sunscreen on your arms that wasn't there before.
Your towels laid out on the sand in front of you where Rafe knelt, the cake now put away in the cooler as he organized the supplies in the first-aid kit he insisted on bringing along.
"Is this all you're gonna do all day?" You mumble, lifting up your sun hat a bit to see him better and he smiles. "Well, you fell asleep on me, so I was keeping myself busy." Taking that as your cue to stand, leaving your hat behind on the chair and untying the flowy coverup you'd been wearing.
"I'm up now, let's get in the water." He's right behind you as your heels kick up sand with your eager steps to the ocean. Your laughs blend harmoniously in the water. Playful splashes and stolen kisses fill your afternoon for the next hour until you're ready for lunch.
Now Rafe was lounging under the shade, sunglasses covering his sky-blue eyes as he relaxed on the chair. Meanwhile, you enjoyed the warm sun kissing your skin as you sat on the towel, preparing some sandwiches for you both to share.
That brings you to now, the two of you sitting on the sandy towels with satiated appetites and a pleased smile on your faces, enjoying each other's company. "You ready now?" Rafe proposes, referring to the mini cake in the cooler which had either a pink or blue filling. You shake your head.
"Not yet, I need more time." He laughs, "At this rate, you'll find out when the baby comes." He says casually and your brow arches, "Only me? Don't you mean the both of us?" His head shakes, "Uh uh, I'm eating that cake with or without you." He jokes and you swat at him, causing him to spill some water from the bottle he was sipping before putting it away.
His attention was stolen from you and focused on something behind you, before you could even turn your head, Rafe's reflexes are shown as his arms reach out for the tumbling toddler who'd tripped over the uneven terrain and it seems she'd been running at a pace faster than her chunky legs could keep up with.
"Woah! Hey there, pudding," The nickname rolls off Rafe's tongue so naturally you hardly even recognize it, she looks up at him from within his stronghold. "Hi!" She waves and Rafe smiles so big it warms your heart to see.
"Where are your parents?" He follows up but she busies herself with the chain around his neck, blabbering the words 'Dada' in the sweetest voice you'd ever heard.
Rafe's eyes crinkle at the corners with his smile as he looks at you, mouthing the words, "She's so cute" and you mouth back, "I know," "I wonder where her parents are." You say, checking the tag on her swim top for any signs of identification but nothing. The two of you stand, the toddler hanging off Rafe's side, having the time of her life with a cheeky smile.
The two of you paced the beach, up and down. "I know her parents are worried sick," You mutter, checking your phone for any services you can contact for a 'lost baby on the beach please help!'
"If they don't come back, do you think we can keep her?" Rafe inquires and you laugh, "It's probably every parent's nightmare to hear a stranger say that as you're holding their missing child." You say, stopping in your tracks and placing your hands on your back with a sigh, worn out from all the walking.
"Are you okay?" Rafe checks in and you nod, "Maybe we should just go back and wait? Her parents might be walking around too and we keep missing them." Rafe agrees and the three of you walk back to your place on the beach, each of you holding her hand as she had insisted on being put down.
You kept her busy once you returned to your spot, building sand castles and giving her some water and sunscreen to keep her hydrated and protected from the slowly setting sun.
"How old are you?" Rafe laughs at your attempts to have full conversations with who he assumes is a two-year-old, but your guess was three. "Me Ava." She says and your eyes widen. Your initial question remained unanswered but now you had other answers.
"Ava! Hi Ava!" You coo, tickling her tummy until she's a bundle of fits and giggles, completely oblivious to the longing look Rafe has on you. "Tummy!" She says, and you laugh, not sure what she's talking about until she places a hand on your belly. "Big tummy!" She repeats and Rafe can't help but stifle a laugh at her direct observation.
"That's right. There's a baby in here." You explain but her head tilts, lost. "Baby?" You gave the soft waves of her hair a gentle pat, admiring her innocence, "Yep, it's either a girl baby or a boy baby." To your surprise, she begins chanting for a 'boy baby'. "See, Ava gets it." Rafe teases, always taking the opportunity to talk about having the boy he so desperately begs you for as if you had any say in the matter.
"Hungry," She whines and that sends Rafe digging into the cooler for snacks. You let her decide which fruit she wanted but her eye had caught sight of the mini container of cake that had been taken out in order to find the other items.
"Looks like she knows what she wants," Rafe smiles and you think about it, "We can't give her sugar, Rafe. Here, do you want some watermelon?" Her focus now is on the juicy red fruit you presented to her on a plate.
She must be fond of it, slurping up the juices and making a mess of her top. Fortunately, it was later washed off with the salt water when Rafe insisted on playing with her after she'd digested her food.
The sun was slowly beginning to set and the three of you had been lounging around for the last thirty minutes or so, when Ava made a loud shriek, "Mama!" She yelled, hopping off the towel and into her mom's arms.
Ava's mom graces you with a tight hug and a desperate stream of never-ending apologies and gratitude. She congratulated you on the little one you were expecting, confident you'd be amazing parents. "Now, what do you say to the nice people who watched you, Ava?" Her mom prompts, with what you could imagine is a very secure hold on Ava's hand, ensuring she doesn't slip away again.
"Thank you!" She beams, showing off her tiny baby teeth and you feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of her leaving. The last two hours, though chaotic, gave you the reassurance you were looking for with the whole parenting thing.
You wave them goodbye and you take a deep breath, "I'm ready," You don't have to explain anything more and you're both walking back to your spot to cut the cake. Only to see a toddler-sized footprint in it that Ava must've caused as she got up, denting the container and the contents inside smushing against its confines.
Pink.
"Wait…" You say, in disbelief, kneeling down with Rafe doing the same. "Are we-" He says, eyes misting over and you call him out, "Hey, I thought you wanted a boy." He holds you close, "I thought so too, but I'm honestly just glad it's with you." He brings you in for a kiss on your forehead. She's so loved already and she doesn't even know it.
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sturnioz · 8 months ago
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‘RAW’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
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pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, established relationship au.
word count. 3.5k
❝so, i can just slide right in, feel you… fill you up…❞
content warnings. explicit content, starts with sweet!matt then spirals to pussy drunk!matt, unprotected sex, creampie, heavy use of the petnames 'sweetheart' and 'baby', dirty talking, matt is also kinda goofy in this.
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“I’ve missed you.” Matt mouths at your skin, his arms tight around your waist as he pulls you against his chest, breathing in the scent of your body wash and perfume as he nuzzles his head into the crevice of your neck.
You smile warmly, melting into his embrace as your fingers lace through his curls and he hums at the soft tugs you give, sucking and nipping at the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.
“Ow,” You hiss through giggles as Matt bites down a little too hard at your skin and your body angles away from him, only for him to whine and try to draw you back to him, muttering an apology against your neck as he tightens his hold on you. “We can’t stand here all day, Matt.”
Matt huffs as if what you’ve said is something so offensive that hurts his feelings, and his shoulders sag as he reluctantly lets you go, but slips his hand into your own instead, intertwining your fingers as he allows you to pull him to a more suitable place than your front door.
He drags his sock covered feet across the floorboards as he takes in your home, a comforting warmth spreads through his chest.
Matt misses being at your place; that sweet, familiar smell of a candle that was previously burning fills his senses, the hum of the TV playing your favourite show in the background, the subtle misplaced ornaments and potted plants that you’ve picked up to move or to admire. 
He takes a quick glance at your kitchen as he passes it, noticing a dish and bowl soaking in soapy water, and he smiles when knowing you have eaten already. He wonders if it was something delicious or filling for you. 
He wants to ask what it could’ve been, but the question remains on the tip of his tongue as you’re pulling him towards the direction of your bedroom.
And that’s when he feels most at home.
The bag that was once resting on his shoulders slumps to the ground and mindlessly kicked to the side as his body finally relaxes, the tiredness that he’s so used to pushing to the back of his mind comes front and centre as he sluggishly makes his way towards the unmade bed, sitting himself down on the edge. 
The hand that’s holding yours pulls you forward to stand between his parted legs, and he rests his cheek on your stomach as he embraces you like he once did a few minutes prior, exhaling happily as your fingers resume playing with his curly hair. 
“How was the trip?”
“Good,” Matt’s tone is quiet and gentle. “Nick was actin’ as our tour guide and was takin’ us to all these cool places,” He moves his head a little to look up at you, resting his chin on your stomach. “I took some pictures for you—ones I haven’t sent you yet.”
You’re more than eager to see what pictures Matt wants to show you, and you gentle push him up the bed for him to lay comfortably and he giggles, reaching his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone while his arm curls around you, holding you close to his side and pressing his lips to the top of your head, finding comfort in the scent of your shampoo. 
He unlocks his phone, clicks the camera roll app and your eyes widen in excitement at seeing all the recent photos Matt failed to show you previously. 
You’re in awe watching him scroll through the photos; some of him and his brothers, amateur photoshoots, and the scenery and the colours of skies leaves you speechless, hanging onto every word as he tells you the story behind them all, some comical and others sweet and endearing. 
“Seein’ this one, like, reminded me of you, y’know,” He whispers against your head as he shows you a picture of a sunset, a blend of pinks and oranges making your heart flutter. “It’s pretty—calmin’, makes me feel at ease. It made me miss you even more than I already did, was killin’ me.”
“You called me every night.” You remind him, letting out a laugh as he groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his phone to the side before gripping your hips and pulling your body on top of his. He massages your thighs with his fingers, kneading the skin as they settle on each of his sides.
“You know it’s not the same,” Matt argues, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “I love hearin’ your voice over the phone but, come on, havin’ you there with me physically means more to me. I get to hold you, I get to touch you… I get to kiss you.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Matt hums with a short nod of his head before he lifts his head up to meet your lips in a short but sweet kiss, squeezing your thighs once you reciprocate and he grins against your lips when he feels your hands cradle his cheeks. 
Then, you feel it.
His hard cock pressing your inner thigh, twitching with each subtle movement of your hips as you rest your entire weight down on him, eliciting a grunt due to the pressure on his cock.
“Are you tired?” You pull away from his lips to ask him, biting back the smile that threatens to spread across your cheeks as Matt follows, wanting your mouth back on his. 
“A bit,” He admits, exhaling deeply. “But I don’t care. Just wan’ you.”
Warmth fills your chest, “You want me?”
“Yeah, bad. So bad.”
You don’t have time to swoon over his words as he’s already leaning up and reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss, biting down on your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth to glide across your own all while his hands sip around to grab at your ass, pulling you even closer so that you’re pressed against him fully. 
You kiss for a while, relishing in the way his lips feel on yours, familiar with the slow and unrushed pace he takes. Your hand curls around the front of his shirt, signalling for him to take it off immediately and he grins against your mouth, breaking the kiss for a moment to allow you to pull the material over his head. 
He gives you a toothy smile, his eyes twinkling with adoration as he stares up at you and his fingers twitch over the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off and you happily give him permission to do so, raising your arms in the air.
Matt tugs it off, throwing it carelessly to the side before his hands caress your skin, palms hot and clammy as he brings you in for another kiss, one that is more desperate and needy.
Matt’s moaning shamelessly into your mouth when your hands dip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, your fist curling around his cock and giving him a few experimental pumps that has him almost draw blood on your lip when he bites down a little too hard. 
“Easy.” You hum with a giggle and Matt groans, craning his neck as he throws his head back against the pillows, tongue licking his bottom lip as your hand squeezes around his cock.
He lifts his hips as you begin to rid him of the rest of his clothing, and you awkwardly manoeuvre above him, laughing as you almost topple over but you remain seated thanks for the hold he has on your hips. 
“You go easy, sweetheart.” Matt teases you this time and you roll your eyes.
You drop your hands from his to finally peel off the rest of your own clothes and he watches you with hooded lids, one hand resting behind his head with the other wraps around his cock to jerk himself off as he takes in the sight of your naked body—something he’s seen plenty times before but he views it as if it’s the first time, absorbing himself in your curves, the swell of your breasts and your pretty pussy. 
You raise a brow, “Like what you see.”
Matt grins, “Always.”
You get a little shy at his compliment but continue to lean forwards to capture his lips in a kiss which he immediately reciprocates, his hand resting on the back of your neck to keep you still against his lips, and he moans as your tongue slips inside his mouth to touch his own. 
He’s still touching himself between your bodies, hips fucking up into his fist and gasping in your mouth when the tip grazes over your skin, the sensitivity sending goosebumps down his spine.
You pull away from his lips much to his dismay, and he tries to pull you back in but falters when he sees you making your way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses behind which makes him moan again, his mouth falling slack as he feels your tongue lick a clean stripe down his navel.
Your fingers brush over his inner thighs, smiling when his cock twitches against his stomach. You stroke further and further up his skin before your fingers grip his cock, hearing the slight hiss he makes through gritted teeth. 
You hum softly, leaning in closer to wrap your lips around his tip. 
“Ah—fuck, wait!” Matt suddenly speaks up and you stop in surprise, bringing your gaze up from his cock to his face, and he reaches his hand down to touch your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. He looks like he’s in pain, but he explains; “I’ll cum too quickly if you suck my cock, seriously. I will cum the second I feel your tongue on me again.”
That makes you even more eager to shove his cock down your throat, and you tighten your fingers around the base which elicits a gasp from his lips. “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” Matt weakly pushes your hand away, and his cock slaps back against his stomach. His hips jerk upwards at the sudden contact, “Oh fuck—sweetheart, I’ve been waitin’ for this for so long. I want to cum fuckin’ you—please, I just—” Matt winces as his hand comes down to cup his balls, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from cumming right then and there from his own words. “I wan’ to fuck you, baby.”
You would awe at the sight if it wasn’t for the way he’s looking at you right now, so desperate and needy to be inside of you, and you’re more than welcome to give him exactly what he wants as you nod your head quickly, watching as his shoulders drop with a relieved sigh. 
Matt gently pushes you down on the bed to crawl above you, kneeling between your parted thighs and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him to fuck.
He’s quick to lean over to yank open the drawers of your nightstands, digging his hand inside to search around for the box of condoms he knows you have ready for him when he’s over. 
Matt pulls out the box and leans back on his ankles as he dips his hand inside, and you wait patiently for him to pull out the packet and roll it onto his cock, but the way his body freezes in place and face drops, you know something is wrong. 
You grow concerned, leaning up on your elbows as you call out his name, “Matt?”
“No, no, no—fuck no,” Matt mumbles repeatedly under his breath as he turns the box upside down and shakes aggressively, praying that a condom will magically appear out of thin air and lay across the palm of his hand, but it remains empty. “Fuuuck, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”
You gape at him in shock, “There’s no condoms left?”
“There’s no condoms left.” Matt echoes your words, and he throws the empty box down on the bed. 
He runs his hand over his face in annoyance, tears of frustration prickling at his eyes. You watch as his eyebrows knit together, how his jaw clenches and nostrils flare in anger. It was a sight you’re definitely not used to seeing, but it’s something that has your thighs clenching for some sort of friction below. 
“Hey… it’s okay,” You try to reassure him as his cheeks get a little red, and you reach up to stoke his arm. “We must’ve used the last one before you left for your trip without knowing.”
“I should’ve been prepared or somethin’, like, I should’ve bought a pack before coming here—I shouldn’t have relied on you to have the condoms but, fuck, I was just so fuckin’ excited to see my girlfriend that I didn’t even think about—”
“Baby, it’s okay.” You try to cut off his rambling by reassuring him again, but it seems to not work as he continues. 
“And now we have nothin’ and I’m just—” His hands wave over his hard cock comically, and you hold back a snort, watching as he runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “A’ight, I should just, like, make you cum on my tongue, and then I’m goin’ to jerk off in the—”
“No!” You raise your voice this time, startling Matt who stares at you with wide eyes, and you immediately apologise. “I’m sorry—sorry, baby. But.. you don’t need to do that, it’s okay.”
“Then what are we goin’ to do?” He questions with a whiny tone that has your head reeling and pussy begging to be fucked. The way he’s staring at you so desperately and in pain is enough for you to come up with an idea. 
“How about we just do it raw this time?”
Matt’s silent. 
He blinks.
He opens his mouth.
He closes it.
He blinks again. 
“Raw? Like, without a condom?” 
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart…” Matt sighs softly as his hands rub your thighs, “We can’t do that. We can’t risk anything, y’know, and even though I’m certain I’m goin’ to spend the rest of my fuckin’ life with you and start a family… we really can’t risk it. It’s too soon, and we’re both not ready for that shit either.”
You frown, “I know that. But nothing will happen, I promise. I’m on the pill.”
Matt’s silent again. 
He blinks.
He opens his mouth to croak out, “What?”
“I’ve been on the pill for a few months,” You tell him nonchalantly, and he looks at you as if you’ve kept such a big secret away from him. “Remember that night when the condom broke and we panicked?” Matt nods his head once. “I went on the pill the day after that. I didn’t want us to have another scare or anything.”
“You’ve been on the pill… for five months?” Matt asks you, and you hum to confirm it’s true. He gapes in shock, and his gaze flits down to your pussy in disbelief. “We could’ve done this five months ago?”
You struggle to hold back a laugh this time, the sound stifled by your lips. “Yes.”
“So, I can just…” Matt’s voice trails off as he shuffles forward, the tip of his cock brushing over your folds and you gasp as he presses over your clit, your thighs clamping around his hips. “I can just slide right in, feel you… fill you up…”
He’s mumbling now, some words incoherent while others are clear as day, his lewdness making your face hot. His cock nudges your opening, almost teasing you by not fucking you immediately and you bite back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.
You suck in a deep breath as Matt finally pushes into you, and his eyes grow wide, mouth slack as he feels the warmth of your walls fit snugly around his cock. His body is frozen above you, his cock pulsing as he feels you bare for the first time.
His eyes flit to yours and suddenly, his gaze darkens, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your waist.
You go to call out his name, to ask him if he’s alright but a surprised yelp flees past your lips as his hips snap forwards, burying himself deep inside your pussy. Your arms sling around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pants above you.
“Feels so fuckin’ good, baby,” Matt grunts under his breath, fucking himself into your deeper and you wail, locking your legs around his waist. “Feel so tight. All for me—yeah. Jus’ for me. So fuckin’ good. My pretty fuckin’ girl and her perfect pussy.”
You try to speak—to call out his name but you’re stuttering your words with each thrust. The bed creaks beneath your bodies, and the headboard hits against the wall, but you could care less about the noise, you’re too surprised to see the sudden change in your boyfriend's mood.
His tone and his words is enough to have you gaping at him, broken moans ripping through your throat at how fucking filthy he sounds, how he uncontrollably mutters how good your cunt fits snug around his cock and how we you are for him.
You’re not used to this.
You’re used to the sweet talk, the light feathery kisses he leaves on your skin in his path, the words of affectionate praises and gentle whispers of ‘i love yous’.
You’re not complaining, though. Never.
Seeing Matt’s switch up from fucking you raw for the first time has your mind spinning and electricity buzzing down your spine. Your fingernails dig further into his shoulder blades and your pussy clamps around his cock tightly, causing him to curse loudly.
“Fuck—that’s it. That’s it, sweetheart. Tight lil’ cunt squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good,” Matt whispers in your ear, almost sounding like a whine. “My girl. My fuckin’ girl.”
“Please,” You begin to beg, even though you have no idea what you’re begging for. “Please, please, please—”
“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” Matt drawls, his pace quickening as his cock drills into you, and his hands grip your waist tighter when he hears you moan for him. “You wan’ that? Yeah? Wan’ me to fill you up? Fuck this cunt full?”
You’re already letting yourself go just from his words alone, your orgasm crashing over you like an aggressive wave and your body seizes up, almost sobbing from the pleasure as he fucks you through it, thumbing at your clit without any signs of stopping.
Your pussy contracts around his cock, sucking him in deeper, squeezing around him tighter which causes his hips to stutter their movements, a grunt slipping past his lips before he leans back on his knees. His hands slide down your waist to grip your thighs, keeping you locked against him as he watches your cunt taking in his cock, ready to be filled.
“Good girl… keep doin’ that f’me. Feels so good, sweetheart.” Matt’s moaning under his breath, airy moans turning into whines as he feels your walls tighten around him, too overwhelmed by the feeling that he suddenly stills, a throating groan leaving his lips as he cums, filling you up just as planned.
Matt’s breathing heavily, mesmerised with the way he’s emptying himself inside you, watching as his cock twitches as his cum fills you up. He doesn’t pull away until he’s certain that there’s nothing else left to give, and he winces out of sensitivity as he slowly moves back to pull out, his cock laying limp against his thigh.
“What was that?” You breathe out heavily as you lean up on your elbows to look at him. “Where did that come from?”
“I dunno,” Matt mumbles, his cheeks blossoming a reddish hue as he refuses to meet your eyes—that shy and sweet persona falling back into place. He can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your pussy, his lips parted as his fingers delicately stroke your pussy folds. “Was I too much, though?”
“No,” You quickly shake your head to reassure him. “I liked it.”
“Yeah? You did?” Matt finally meets your gaze and you smile at him as you nod your head this time. Matt sheepishly grins back and his eyes flit back down to his fingers that circle around your hole that leaks with his cum, and he makes the sudden decision to push it all back in, causing you to gasp and whine softly. “Sorry… jus’ don’t want anythin’ to go to waste.”
You laugh lightly at his words, “Go to waste?”
“Mm,” Matt nods his head, retracting his hand and staring at the cum that covers his fingers, that dark expression taking over once again as he looks right at you. “I’m never wearin’ a condom again… y’know that right?”
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© sturnioz
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 7 months ago
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LOGAN HOWLETT 18+ thoughts bc I can’t get a grip
mdni, fem!reader. 685 words
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Thinking about Logan playing with you from behind:
His back to the headboard, yours to his chest – warm skin pressed to his as you lay into him. It’s lazy, it’s comfortable. Your thighs parted loosely, bent knees resting against his straightened legs either side of you. 
It’s all so casual, one of his hands teasing at the fabric of your underwear, fingers extended down as he toys with you. Pad of his middle one circling your clit, working up that growing patch of wet. His other hand wrapped around your middle, palm large and warm over your stomach – holding you to him, keeping you firm to his chest. 
Your head hangs back on his collarbone, crown of your head resting slackly against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been run through the wringer, the minimal, inconsistent touch of where you wanted him causing you all sorts of anguish. 
He was teasing you, every touch calculated despite its relaxed environment. Just absentmindedly playing with you through the fabric, working you up to hear those soft, breathy whines of yours he loves ever so much.
And while you thought your patience was being tested, that was not solely the case. His toying coming from a place of reluctance – like he was seeing how long he can go without sinking a couple fingers in you. It was hard, and he was growing antsy. Just like you.
So after what feels like forever of faint, featherlight pussy play, he slips his hand down the front of your underwear, his fist protruding in the thin fabric. The bow sitting on his thick wrist, the lewd view of something so dainty and pretty against something so rugged and manly was overwhelming. The feeling making you tighten on nothing. The feeling releasing an involuntary soft moan. 
“Barely touched you yet, sugar,” he whispers behind you, voice gruff and low. 
The grip he has around your stomach raises, his touch light as he finds himself cupping under your tits – arm wrapped securely, fingers clasping at the one on the opposite side. Breasts resting on his meaty forearm, holding them carefully.
The hand in your underwear is barely moving, his fingers resuming their prior pattern of fiddly touching. Though, this time it’s beneath the fabric, not over. He dips his two middle fingers between your lips, tips of each immediately being coated with the eager anticipation betwixt your thighs. The tapered width of his fingers parting your folds ever so obscenely.
He’s hesitant, not because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, rather, the opposite. He’s hesitant because he knows what he’s doing. Waiting and waiting – being a tease with his hand grazing heavy against your wet cunt, the palm of his hand feeling the clamp-like, jitter motion of you beneath. 
He reaches his middle finger downwards, the tip delving inside of you —only up to the first knuckle— the feel giving you a brief, momentary wave of relief. 
It’s not enough, so you find yourself extending a hand down to his, your fingers struggling to envelop the meat of his wrist as you push him further into your underwear. Silently, desperately asking for more.
All he can do is chuckle faintly, the deep sound amused. He’s mean, but he’s not evil. So he gives you what you want – the full length of his middle finger, those few inches sinking inside with the greatest of ease. His ring finger easing in shortly after.
“Better?” he asks, the question almost rhetorical. He knew it was better.
Your grip around his occupied hand loosens, and instead moves to hold onto the arm around your upper torso – fingers pawing at the muscles. You go limp, melting into him from behind, your soft, dulcet noises echoing everything he does. Each of you looking down between your thighs, watching his fingers disappear inside you, his head resting against yours as you both stare at the near pornographic view. 
And as he begins to pump slowly inside —hooking his fingers up into all the right spots— you twist into him, pressing kisses into his bulging, veiny bicep. Wordlessly thanking him.
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just watched dp3 again, christ
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