makestrongminds · 1 year ago
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Atlanta Bedroom Guest
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An illustration of a sizable, traditional guest bedroom with white walls and a medium-tone wood floor.
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benbemine · 1 year ago
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Living Room Formal
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Inspiration for a large contemporary formal and enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with white walls, a standard fireplace and a metal fireplace
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kimludcom · 2 months ago
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Stay cozy and stylish this winter with our Retro Plaid Winter Cotton Linen Woven Line Blanket. Made with thickened knit material, it's perfect for keeping warm on the sofa or while traveling. Add a touch of bohemian charm to your home with this boho throw, also doubling as a warm bedspread. Weight: 1200g Wash Style: Me
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onlinesweetheart · 1 year ago
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<3
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bi-writes · 1 month ago
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MOB who has to stay with Johnny at his house while Simon is away on a solo mission? Like as a preventive measure, Simon has them both together in case soemthing happens to him while he’s away?
mail-order bride
"i...simon, i just don't--"
"just do it," simon murmurs. you quiet immediately, a little caught off-guard. simon has never interrupted you; even when you're a babbling mess, simon lets you finish your garbled sentences. he waits until your voice quiets, until your mouth closes, before he ever speaks to you, but this time, his tone is firm, and there is no room for interpretation. when you meet his eyes, simon is more than serious. "i don't ask ya for anythin', swee'eart. but this..." he reaches out for you, and you step closer instinctively, and when he cups your face in both hands, you can't help but melt. he leans his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes when you see the very subtle tremble of his lips. "do this fer me. only thing i'll ever ask of ya. i swear it."
you take a deep breath to center yourself. one of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you just that much closer, and you wait until your lips brush against his before you answer him.
"i...i have to go?"
"few days. tha's it."
"well, i...well, okay."
it's quiet up north. the weather dampens the entire coastline, what you can see of it, and the air tastes like salt. it was in your mouth as soon as you stepped off the train, and it only got stronger the closer you got to the cottage.
as soon as you step out of the car, you're greeted by the most quaint little house on a hill. there's vines climbing up the sides of it, wrapping around wooden structures and carving out a perfectly quaint home tucked amongst scottish greenery. it's breathtaking here; it's so quiet, and the way that you're allowed to breathe up here is unlike anywhere else you've ever been.
the meows coming from your backpack are the only thing that bring you back to earth.
"just inside, lass," a low voice calls behind you. "supper's 'bout ready now."
when johnny closes the door behind you, you're mesmerized by the coziness inside. his house is filled with warmth. there's plaid curtains pulled back from a stained-glass window, allowing in soft colors of light. the couches in his living room have throw pillows and blankets of mismatched linen and velvet, and his walls are filled with pictures and hanging green plants. there's candles burning, and the television is still playing some reruns of old rugby games.
the wood detail is exquisite. the staircase has little carvings of scottish motifs and flowers, winding up another wall of photos. the pictures are old and new, all of laughing people with johnny's big smile or his bright blue eyes or wearing the same plaid pattern as the fabric that you saw hanging in the closet.
a green kettle. a cross above the mantle with a psalm printed on it. a sketch on the coffee table (a skull, with a stub of a charcoal pencil still laying over it). rosaries hanging over a wedding photo with johnny in the background, holding up bunny ears. a wooden bowl of oranges (and oranges only).
"said ye'd be 'ere fer some time, tha' ye like ta bake. got some things fer ye at the shops."
you set your backpack down, opening the clear window of it, and two little cats hop out immediately. johnny raises a brow as he makes eye contact immediately with the orange tabby, a wicked grin coming over his face.
"i remember ye, ye little shite."
"what?" you laugh, and johnny shakes his head.
"nothin'."
it's late when he notices you looking out the window. the cats are curled up on opposite ends of the couch, in deep sleep after johnny gave them each a salmon dinner (and you pretended not to notice seeing the extensive recipe sheet that only your husband could have made on his phone). your eyes are on the sky; you can see so much of it here, twinkly stars and all.
"'m sorry ye have ta be here," johnny says lowly, soft enough that you aren't startled. you don't look away from the window, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch as you wonder if simon is looking at the same star you can't seem to lose. it's brighter than the rest, and it flickers to a rhythm that feels oddly comforting.
"it's not your fault, johnny," you assure him softly, and you turn away from the window finally to find him seated on the carpet, scratching the orange cat behind the ears. "he wouldn't...he wouldn't take no for an answer. not...not this time."
you frown a little, smoothing your right hand over your left, and your heart drops a little in your chest when the sparkle of your wedding ring matches the sparkle of your star.
"i've been staying home alone all this time," you continue, shaking your head. "and all of the sudden...a-all of the sudden he doesn't trust me?"
"oh, love..." johnny sighs, clicking his tongue. "tha' is...'s nae wot it is, i swear it."
"i...it's not...it's not me, right?" you ask in a whisper, meeting his eyes finally. "simon and i...w-we're doing so well..."
the expression that passes over his face is a sad one. it unnerves you to see it; johnny is someone that just isn't meant to be sad. his house is filled with so much love and so much life, and you swear you don't even recognize him anymore because he's void of a smile altogether.
"ye seen the pictures?"
you know immediately what johnny is talking about. you saw them the very first night you stayed in your shared home. across your house, there are a few picture frames covered with fabric or face-down on whichever surface they rest on. when you glimpsed at them, you peeked behind the curtain of a life that simon has that you don't know. even now, you have never felt strong enough to ask him about them.
it isn't because you think simon won't tell you; you're afraid to ask. you're afraid of who they are, what they are to him, and why he's never told you their names or introduced them to you. they exist in a separate place, and you don't know why, and when you saw him holding that baby--
you shake your head finally.
"i...i can't."
johnny hums low, looking down. he smooths his hands down his jeans.
"neither can he."
you close your eyes, but not fast enough. there's a few tears that fall down the curve of your cheek.
"when...when did--?"
"will be another year in a few days."
your lip shakes, and you take in a stuttered breath. you did not believe it possible to love simon any more than you already do, but it aches, that place in your chest that is reserved just for him. it hurts, in the worst and most incredible way, and you never want him to know another day without hearing you tell him how much you love him.
when simon comes to get you, just a week later, you're sitting under a sycamore tree at sunset. it's never been more quiet inside of your head, and when he takes a seat beside you, you say nothing for a few minutes.
simon thinks maybe you're angry for a moment, but then your hand reaches over to take his, and then you're scooting closer, until you drape yourself over his arm and bury your face into the side of his neck.
"i'm not going anywhere," you whisper, and simon turns his head slightly.
"wot's tha', love?"
"i'm not going anywhere, simon," you say again, and when he looks at you finally, you squeeze his hand. "wherever...wherever you want me to go...i'll go. wherever you want me to stay, i-i'll stay there."
when he kisses you, it's soft, and it's slow, and he feels faraway and so close all at once. you put your hands around his neck, along the back of his head, anything to get him closer, to feel more of him, but it isn't enough.
it won't be enough. not until simon devours you whole. not until you bite into him and never let go. not until beginning of you and the end of him are indistinguishable.
not until i make the time before us obsolete and the time after us endless.
when you are home, simon watches from the hallway as you pick up a picture frame on the dresser. it's been facedown there since he moved in, and touching it has always felt like it burns him. he's frozen as you flip it face-up, standing it back up. when he sees himself, many years younger, smiling, happy, holding a chubby baby with bright eyes and blonde hair, he's surprised his insides don't burst immediately.
he never thought he would be able to look at them again. he never thought he'd be able to see their faces without seeing the warped versions of them, the mirrors of them that he never believed could be real. he always thought if he looked at them again, he'd go blind--that he'd carve out his own eyes just to forget what was left of them.
but nothing remains. they're memories, beautiful ones, and he'd forgotten that his nephew even had dimples.
the photos get lost amongst the rest. they blend in, like they were meant to be, tucked between the warm ones of your smile and the orange cat standing on simon's shoulders.
there is nothing more intoxicating than the woman that simon has chosen to love. you make the worst of his mind feel afraid; the thoughts that threaten to upend him, they are retreating, withering away from the things that he thinks about now that you remain. the tendrils of you are everywhere; you have latched onto him like nothing ever has, and he will never be rid of this feeling. of you.
simon will not fight reality any longer. he won't tell himself fate is nothing but proof that god is unforgiving. god isn't real, you are, and whatever came before you was the road he had to follow to get to you.
and simon didn't just follow; he fucking crawled. he dug his hands into the stone, bleeding fingernails and all, and he kept going even when his legs didn't work and his mind told him there was nothing there ahead of him. it was not resilience. it was not a man made of metal or steel or something heroic or a miracle.
simon is just a man, and he is weak, but as he comes up behind you and breathes you in, he realizes now that he has known you his entire life. you are tethered by something that he can't see. you are connected by something invisible.
when you tuck yourself into bed that night, the pictures are still upright, the ones on the wall still uncovered. you fall asleep before him, like always, and simon cradles your head to his chest as his eyes find the window.
a star sparkles. it's the last thing he sees before he falls asleep beside you.
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swordsandholly · 4 months ago
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part 6: Where…?
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The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?
Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…
You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.
The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.
After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.
You’ve always been such a stupid girl.
After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.
You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.
You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.
It’s cute.
Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.
A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”
“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.
You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”
“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.
You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”
Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”
“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.
“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”
You nod.
“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”
You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.
“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.
“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.
You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.
“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.
“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.
“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.
“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.
You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”
The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.
You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”
“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.
“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.
You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”
“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.
“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“
“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.
Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.
You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.
You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”
“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.
“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’
You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.
“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.
John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”
You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”
John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.
“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.
Bonus:
“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”
“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.
“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.
You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.
The three of you fit together so well…
John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.
“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.
Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.
Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…
He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.
“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.
Simon just grunts.
“She’s good for you.”
“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.
To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”
A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!
Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am
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chsims · 11 days ago
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Cozy Autumn Blankets 🤎
01. Throw Blanket | Hermes Blanket | Blanket
02. Neutral Blanket | Bed Blanket | Blanket
03. Blanket | Cozy Blanket Plaid | Blanket
04. Blanket | Blanket | Throw Blanket
Credits : @cowbuild @kerriganhouse @bostyny @helenmay @irinaseverinka @sundays-sims @aggressivekitty & Others !
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sundays-sims · 2 months ago
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H A V E N . (early access, patreon)
Hey guys!
I am finally posting this month' set, sorry again about the delay, life is super hectic right now and I am doing my best to create beautiful content for you! ♥
Haven is a bedroom set & includes 16 new meshes. I created the headboards & bedding (pillows, cushions & throw) separately for more flexibility in terms of patterns, aesthetic and variety. The palette includes solid neutrals, along with tones of blue, green and orange. You will also find loads of patterns for the pillows, dark luxurious swatches & warm wood tones. This whole set is super cozy, yet can fit more a traditional interiors as well. I hope you enjoy it!
↓ details & download link under the cut ↓
D O W N L O A D  L I N K : [X] (patreon, early access)
SET DETAILS:
bed – 5 swatches
bench – 16 swatches
chandelier (3 heights) – 6 swatches
deco pillows – 17 swatches
headboard I – 16 swatches
headboard II – 16 swatches
large throw pillow (patterns) – 46 swatches
large throw pillow (plaids) – 12 swatches
large throw pillow (solids) – 15 swatches
nightstand – 5 swatches
pillows – 16 swatches
small throw pillow (patterns) – 46 swatches
small throw pillow (plaids & solids) – 27 swatches
throw blanket – 21 swatches
** haven will be released (free) on September 19th**
 ↓ WCIF: all the content is by me, except the wallpaper. ↓
** wallpaper: domaine du clos set by Pierisim / curtains: POP! set / ottoman: spruce set / baskets: winter set / table lamp: sumba set / rug: lombok set / slippers: ungasan set / herringbone floor: kediri set / floor mirror: sumba set **
→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←
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rayofday · 2 years ago
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(via Abstract Green Gingham Checkered Plaid Throw Blanket by rayofday)
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elliexmylove · 1 year ago
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✮˚。⋆ferns and moths⋆。˚✮
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ellie x f!reader
sinopse: you colour in ellie's tattoo while hanging out which leads to something more
cw: making out, swearing , heavily implied smut, confession
i hate this ngl
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
the alarm clock beside your bed went off at six am waking you up for what would usually be patrol, the shifts had been recently changed so jesse replaced you. the day was free to you now so you stretched and sprawled out over your bed after turning the alarm off, for the next three hours you slept soundly.
a soft knock on your door woke you slightly, you only turn on your side, now being more comfortable than ever. the knock was louder the second time but not enough for you to really care in your sleepy daze.
knocking for a third time the person clearly did not care if you were sleeping as they banged on your door with their fist, "fuck." you mumbled, pushing yourself up onto your elbow taking a minute to open your eyes. eventually throwing the blankets off of yourself you were met with a chill, the person banged on the door again and continued as you strode to the source of sound.
the door swung open with force as you stood about to greet the person with annoyance, and ellie stood there, fist mid air, about to hit the door again. her eyes widened for a second in surprise until her eyes took you in, cosy plaid pyjamas, hair messy and tired eyes filled with irritation. a small smirk went unnoticed by you,
"hey,"
"morning," you rub your eyes and blink a few times, ellie crosses her arms in the cold,
"i knocked three times,"
"i'm aware."
"what the fuck! it's freezing out here,"
you look at the grey hoodie she's wearing,
"maybe you should have thought about wearing something warmer,"
"i thought you would let me in quicker,"
"why would you assume that."
"i dunno, cause you care about me or whatever,"
you raise your eyebrows with an expressionless face, staring at her,
"yeah okay, come in." you finally decide.
you now notice the snow softly falling outside.
"oh my bad." you laugh
ellie shuts the door behind her and walks to your bed as you're already sitting down, "what's up?" you ask as she takes her shoes off and sits on the bed with her legs crossed getting comfortable,
"i dunno, i thought we could hang out cause we don't have patrol today."
"yeah i just thought we would both sleep in first."
"we can, i just wanted to spend time with you."
you nod with a smile and get back under the covers, ellie does the same, as you get comfortable and stretch your arms above your head, resting them there, "sorry bro i'm just really tired,"
ellie's hand falls onto your face as she lies next to you with her eyes closed letting you know it's okay and to shut up because she's tired too.
you start to fall asleep again almost instantly until ellies body sprawls across your bed, taking up almost all of the space and you groan, "get on your side of the bed." you kick her under the blankets, she softly smiles but doesn't move.
after drifting to sleep again your head turns to the side, squinting to see the time, only thirty minutes had passed, ellie's legs were tangled with yours and there was no space on the bed for you, your mind wandered to pushing her off the bed and you found yourself smiling evilly at the satisfaction in your mind.
while you were picturing shaking her back and forth her head turned toward you, eyes closed and fast asleep. you turned toward her, oxygen no longer filling your lungs as much as it should while your breathing slowed to almost a stop.
her eyes looked so peaceful and pretty as she slept, your eyes dragged down her face to her lips, slightly chapped from not drinking enough water, which you were also guilty of. one strand of hair lay across her freckled skin, before you knew it your fingers tucked it behind her ear leading you to almost choke on your own spit as her beautiful eyes slowly opened, her face lit up in a soft smile.
shiiit you'd hit that
beside you ellie sat up cracking her back and neck, your hands held your cheeks feeling how warm they were. "you slept for long enough now?"
"yeah."
"wanna do something or?"
"sure, you wanna sketch again or something?" i'm cool with just listening to music."
she shrugs and frowns in thought, "yeah, you got a sketchbook or something i can use?"
without saying anything you get off the bed on your way to get the paper and your walkman, ellie reaches over to smack your ass,
"ellie." You groan in frustration as she chuckles amused.
skimming through the pages of your sketchbook filled with doodles you make sure there's a clear page for ellie to use, you'll probably colour in her drawings because you can, so the colouring pencils that have been hiding under your bed for months are about to be disturbed. you pick up the walkman from the table and bend down to look under your bed, seeing the pencils in a container, along with markers.
the bed bounces after you jump on it and you reach your arms out as if to calm the movement,
ellie takes the sketchbook from you and gently smacks you on the head with it, your instincts kick in as you hit her arm, in return you get punched in your arm twice making you wince but only getting you more riled up, ellie gets tackled onto the bed letting you hear her beautiful laugh, she wraps her arms around you tightly as your body fights to get out of the tight grip, the need to beat her up is strong but she's stronger.
Your teeth sink into her arm as you bite her, "ow! what the fuck!" she half laughs in surprise letting you go, she looks at the clearly visible teeth marks in her arm. you then notice her tattoo and look to your markers, a plan made in your mind.
"el can i colour in your tattoo?"
"no! you just bit my arm."
"i've done it before so like, what's the issue here exactly."
she chuckles and nods, "yeah sure." granting permission.
no time was wasted as you begun colouring in, bent down to her arm focusing intently, one of your hands holding her arm in place while the other was carefully colouring the fern dark green.
she stared down at you not planning to look away, your hand on her arm made her feel something deep in her stomach. your breath fanned gently across her skin and her gaze burned holes through your head, the mood quickly changing.
your hand accidentally smudged the ink outside the edge, "shit sorry," you apologise, "you good or do you want me to stop?" once you look up your met with her eyes fixed on you.
"don't stop."
you frown slightly confused at her tone but continue anyway.
your hand gently grips her arm again, she looks at your hair and begins to play with it with her free hand, twirling it around her finger. "what're doing?" you murmur,
"playing with your hair." she said softly
"it feels nice."
"yeah?"
you were careful next to the outline of the fern, making sure not to colour outside the lines in the last bit, sitting up and shuffling over ellie quickly lifted her hand out of your hair unhappily
"dude."
"what? i'm just getting a different colour for the moth, i didn't think you enjoyed playing with my hair that much." you laughed getting a brown marker.
once back in position you looked at ellie who was already staring at you, your eyes glanced down to her lips for a second then focused back on her eyes.
"fuck."
your body heated up slightly, the situation seeming different now. ellie's eyes glared at you relentlessly and without realising it, you licked your lips as they suddenly felt dry, ellie now stared at your lips after you unknowingly drew her attention to them.
silence filled the air and your body grew very hot, you inched closer and her eyes flickered back to yours, "what're you doing?" she said lowly, you felt your stomach flip as you stared directly into her eyes.
"you do know i really fucking like you right?"
"aw. that's so sweet."
her voice alone made your stomach twist into knots.
the silence became agonizing and you didn't know what to do, after a moment she seemed to recognize what you were feeling and stopped teasing,
"i like you too,"
"i really, really like you." she breathed out leaning and crawling on top of you, those words were an understatement for the both of you, you two had liked each other two years ago this was way more than that now.
you sighed as you felt one of her hands rest behind your neck and the other gently cup your cheek, your lips moved together slowly, ellies tongue slid across your lip asking for permission to which to opened your mouth for her, the slow kiss turned into gentle urgency.
minutes went by making you pull away for air, keeping close to her face, the soft feel of her breath fanning over your lips.
"i've wanted to do that for so fucking long y/n."
"really?" You smile sweetly at her confession,
"yeah," she breathes out mirroring your smile
"and i wanna do it more."
she straddles you, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear as she looks down at you. taking no longer than a minute to admire you she answers your silent plea and leans down to kiss you.
a small moan slips out before you can stop it when ellie accidentally moves on you, her eyes widening,
"sorry i didn't mean to-"
"shh, shut up."
"ahh ellie what're you doing?"
ellies lips are now on your neck, making you sigh. "is this okay?"
"yeah- mmphfuck,"
ellie bit down, you lean your head back giving her better access and closing your eyes, she softly licks over the bite to soothe it.
you move under her rubbing against her jeans making her curse quietly, "can i uhm, take your pants off?" she looks at your face carefully, looking for any signs of discomfort. "yeah okay." You smile and lean up to kiss her, "you're sure?" she breaks away to ask, "it's okay if you're not ready i don't wanna rush anything i just-"
"ellie, i want to."
she looked at you unconvinced,
"i don't wanna just fuck you, i want to be with you."
you nearly passed out, giggling internally and kicking your feet,
"i wanna do both."
she raises her eyebrows at you, surprised at your confidence.
"then let's do both."
you lifted yourself half off the bed assisting her in taking your pyjama pants off, she stared seemingly out of it for a second then licked her lips and placed them on yours, hand reaching down under your underwear.
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i5uckersblog · 8 days ago
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Settling In
Summary: Logan embraces home life, helping decorate and adding personal touches.
You push open the glass doors of Marshalls, the whoosh of warm air greeting you as Logan trails behind, his boots heavy against the tiled floor. You can feel his presence without even looking, that quiet, observant energy he always carries. His brow furrows when he glances around at the aisles full of seasonal decor.
“You really need more stuff for Thanksgiving?” His voice is low, a grumble, as if the concept of buying throw pillows with turkeys on them is beyond him. You chuckle softly, grabbing a cart.
“It’s not about needing it, it’s about making the place feel festive,” you reply, tossing a plaid blanket into the cart. “We’ve got to switch from spooky to cozy.”
He steps beside you, picking up a ceramic pumpkin, turning it over in his hands like it’s something from another planet. “Haven’t we already got one of these at home?”
“That one’s Halloween. This is Thanksgiving.” You grin, nudging him with your elbow. He grunts, setting it back down.
Logan doesn’t say much as you wander through the aisles, grabbing harvest-colored candles and garlands. You’re used to it by now—the way he watches, the way he seems to process things without needing to talk them through. It’s just who he is. But there’s something about today, the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes narrow at the cozy, staged living room displays, that makes you wonder.
As you reach the checkout, Logan speaks again. “Never stayed in one place long enough for this kinda thing.” His voice is quieter this time, thoughtful. “Decorating for holidays, redecorating… Guess it never made sense to me.”
You look at him, surprised by the honesty. “Yeah, I figured as much. But we’re here now, right? Might as well make it feel like home.”
He glances down at you, and for a second, you think you see a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe curiosity. He nods, almost imperceptibly, before taking the cart from you and heading toward the register.
“Fine. But I draw the line at turkey-shaped salt shakers.”
Back at the apartment, the bags from Marshalls are scattered across the living room floor. Logan watches as you pull out candles, blankets, and tiny ceramic pumpkins. He sits on the couch, arms crossed, still trying to figure out how all of this translates into making a home. But when you ask for help, he stands up without hesitation.
“Can you hang this garland over the window?” You hand him a strand of leaves and pinecones, knowing he can reach the spot much easier than you.
He takes it, raising an eyebrow. “This thing really screams Thanksgiving, huh?”
“It does,” you tease. “You’ll see. By the end of the day, this place is going to feel totally different.”
Logan moves to the window and, with surprising ease, drapes the garland across the top. He steps back, nodding slightly at his handiwork. “Looks… alright, I guess.”
As the afternoon wears on, you two fall into a rhythm—him hanging decorations or setting candles where you direct, and you arranging pillows and throws. At one point, Logan even picks up a cornucopia from the box and stares at it for a moment.
“Where does this thing go?”
“By the TV,” you say, smiling at the sight of him holding something so festive. He sets it down and looks at you, a little less skeptical than before.
“Alright,” he finally says, surveying the living room. “I see what you mean. Kinda feels… nice.”
You grin, appreciating the small victory. “Told you.”
A few weeks later, Logan steps into Marshalls again, alone this time. You’ve got no idea he’s here—it’s just something he decided to do on a whim. The door chimes as he walks in, and he pauses, glancing around at the seasonal decor that has now shifted toward winter. But that’s not why he’s here.
Logan moves through the aisles, feeling a little out of place but determined. He spots a shelf lined with wooden signs and holiday accents, all meant to make a space feel “homey.” He picks up a small, hand-carved wooden moose. It’s simple, sturdy—something that doesn’t feel too fussy but still gives off a warm vibe. He can picture it sitting on the bookshelf next to the framed photo you’d hung up last month.
He sets the moose down for a moment, still unsure, but then glances at another sign—a wooden board that says Welcome Home in faded paint. Logan stares at it for a long moment before picking it up and tossing it into his basket with the moose.
“Not bad,” he mutters to himself, satisfied.
When he gets home later that day, he sets the bag on the counter and pulls out the moose and the sign. You come in from the kitchen, surprised to see him holding anything from Marshalls.
“Logan… did you go shopping?”
He gives a small shrug, not making a big deal of it. “Figured the place could use somethin’ else. Thought you’d like it.”
Your eyes soften as you see the items he picked out, the rustic charm fitting in perfectly with the cozy atmosphere you’ve built together. You step closer, taking the moose from him and setting it on the shelf where he imagined it.
“Logan,” you say, smiling warmly, “it’s perfect.”
Requests are Open!
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annwrites · 1 month ago
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⸻ trick or treat one-shot collection.
· pairing:  jacaerys velaryon x twinsis!reader · type: modern!au | (collection) · summary: you & jace have fun in a pile of leaves & then take a nap together. · tags: implied twincest, sharing clothes, napping together · word count: 718
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When Jace pulls into the driveway, you jump out of his car excitedly, toss your backpack onto the grass, then practically dive into a pile of leaves your dad must’ve raked earlier, but never got around to packing into an orange trash bag, with the face of a jack-o-lantern printed on the front of it, like he did the rest of the yard.
Jace chuckles, coming to stand over you, hands resting on his jean-clad hips while he gazes down at you.
“Are you five?” He asks with a raised brow.
You giggle, then reach up toward him.
He sighs, sliding one of his hands into yours, so as to pull you up, until you tug him down with you.
Bright red and orange leaves crunch beneath his weight and he sighs in exasperation before rolling onto his side.
“You’ve got leaves in your hair,” he remarks, pulling a few from your curly brown strands.
You shrug, then push him onto his back before straddling his lap.
“Now you do, too,” you say with a smile, running your fingers through his hair.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head while a smirk spreads across his lips—his hands sliding up your tight-clad thighs, beneath the plaid skirt you wear. “We always have to match, don’t we?”
You nod, humming in agreement, and he grins.
“C’mon, let’s go in,” he says, and you stand to let him up.
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You and Jace pad across vacuumed carpet, toward the back of the house, where your rooms lie across the hall from one another.
“I’ll use the shower downstairs,” you say, turning into your bedroom.
He tosses his backpack into his room before stepping over to you.
He cups your cheek, and you watch as the corner of his lip twitches.
“What?” You ask with furrowed brows.
“Just thinking of ways to conserve water,” he replies, shrugging, heading into his room to grab a change of clothes.
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When Jace comes back into his room, it’s to the sight of you standing in front of his open closet with only a towel on while you sift through his t-shirts.
He leans against the door-frame with crossed arms. “Your closet and dresser are both packed with clothes. Why do you always have to take mine to wear around the house?”
You glance to him over your shoulder and shrug. “We’re twins. What’s yours is mine, etcetera. We share everything.”
Predictable reply, he thinks before flopping down onto his bed.
“And yours are more comfortable,” you add.
He watches as you choose an old t-shirt, with the mascot for the school’s lacrosse team printed on the front and his number on the back, before dropping your towel and tugging it on over your head.
You toss said towel into Jace’s full hamper, frowning slightly at the sight.
“I’ll empty it eventually,” he says.
You turn back to him with crossed arms. “What you mean to say is that me or mom will.”
He smirks without reply before patting the right side of the bed.
You step over to it, then climb in next to him.
He fans out a throw blanket, drapes it over your bare legs, and you curl into his side.
You rest your head and left hand on his bare chest before twining one of your legs around his.
He tangles his fingers in your hair—massaging your scalp—and your eyes flutter closed.
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It’s nearly two hours later when your mom and dad get home, and both of your younger brothers along with them.
Your mom knocks lightly on Jace’s door before quietly opening it, and she smiles softly at the sight of the two of you taking a nap together—the waning autumn sun casting long shadows across both of you through curtained windows while you dream.
She grips Jace’s shoulder and shakes him gently awake.
He gazes up at her with furrowed brows and a confused look in his sleepy eyes.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she whispers before glancing to you. “Get your sister up, so the two of you can eat.”
She leans down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before sighing at the sight of his overflowing hamper in the corner.
She grabs it up, lightly shaking her head at her eldest child as she exits, heading for the laundry room.
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sturniqlo · 2 months ago
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short fluffy blurb about holding hands with chris pls?
Is That Okay?- C.S
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summary- y/n and chris have been on a couple of dates and have yet to do anything- even hold hands however, he had a question for her. BLURB
cw: FLUFF; holding hands, kissing
an: i've been going through some writers block and i got this cute request so i decided to write it! and it honestly took a completely turn lols and it's so short | thank you anon! | lowercase intended
masterlist | join my taglist
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"okay, you can open your eyes in 3.. 2.. 1.. open!" chris let's go of her shoulders and she opens her eyes. "chris! it's so pretty! did you do this all by yourself?" she gasps at the sight of the aesthetically pleasing picnic setup. "yes, i did! you like it?" he rounds her frame to stand in front of her.
"like it? i love it!" she squeals and throws her arms around his neck, bringing him into a tight hug. "i'm glad you do." he hums into her soft embrace and wraps his arms around her waist, enjoying the moment.
chris and y/n had been on four dates already. so this was their fifth. they had been friends for quite some time and wanted to take it to the next step. however, the only sort of physical contact they've had was hugs -like the one they just had- awkward side hugs, kisses on the cheeks and resting their head on each others shoulder. they haven't held hands, kissed or had intimacy.
"wanna eat? i bet your starving after your shift." chris has picked her up from her work shift at the bookstore she worked at. "please, you read my mind." she unwraps her hands and giggles, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "i got your favorite, mac and cheese from tommy's and strawberry cheesecake from corner bakery." her mouth dropped from the thought of her.
"okay- that one!" they now laid on the plaid blanket. chris pointed at a cloud up in the blue sky. "a duck?" she squinted at the cloud he pointed at. "a duck? i saw a horse." he laughs, turning his head to face her. "a hor- alright. how about that one," she points to a new cloud. "i see a strawberry." chris looks and sees the same exact thing. "i agree with you on that one."
they continued laying on the blanket covered ground and pinging at clouds for the next twenty minutes. "okay, i give up! how are you seeing a barn house in that cloud? i see a freakin' dog!" they both giggle. "okay, alright! what would you like to do now?" she sits up and chris follows. "i wanted to ask you something actually." he rubs his clammy hands on his jeans. "shoot."
chris grabs her hands and loops his fingers through hers. "okay, wow- our first time holding hands." they both look down at their connected hands. "really? woah, you're right." she giggles and squeezes his hands lightly before looking back up at him. "your question?" she says.
"my what- oh that. okay, so. uh-" y/n looks at him confusingly. "chris, why are you so nervous, i'm sure whatever it is won't end bad. i'm not sure what you're thinking actually." she laughs. "okay okay! so, we've been hanging out for some- some time." y/n nods as he talks, she can't contain her smile as she might have a clue as to what he might ask.
"and i enjoy your company very much. i like being around you and talking to you and just- everything. i was wondering if.. i could be you boyfriend? is that okay?" he gives her a look. "wow- i- i've never been asked that way. of course you could be my boyfriend! only if i can be your girlfriend." he nods. "always." she smiles at his response and grabs his face to press her lips against his.
she pulls away once she's gasping for air. "i'm sorry." she nervously giggles and rests her forehead against his. "was- was that okay?" she whispers. "more than okay." he says before connecting their lips back together.
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chestersturniolo · 1 month ago
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𝙰 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐
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inspired by one of my soft!matt headcannons
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
It was your one-year anniversary, and Matt had been acting mysteriously all day. There was something about the way he smiled, the way his eyes sparkled with a secret he couldn’t wait to reveal. You had tried to guess what he was up to, but every time you asked, he just gave you that familiar grin and said, “You’ll see”
As the evening fell, he took your hand, leading you outside. The sun was starting to set, the remnants of daylight casting gold across everything. “Where are we going?” you asked “You’ll see” he repeated with a soft chuckle.
Matt now stood behind you, his hands gently cupping your eyes. You giggled, feeling a wave of excitement. He was close enough that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. He walked you abit further along, your eyes still covered. After a short walk, you reached a quiet spot, Matt halting your steps. “Ready?” he whispered in your ear
You nodded in response, and slowly, he uncovered your eyes. As you blink a few times to adjust your vision, your breath catches in your throat.
You let out a small gasp, “Mattttt-” you coo, your voice soft with disbelief, “it’s exactly like—”
“Our first date?” he finished, cutting you off gently, his voice filled with accomplishment. His face lit up, beaming as he hung his head,resting his chin on your shoulder, his hands slipping to your hips, holding you close from behind.
You blinked, still in awe as you took in the scene before you. A large blanket was laid out on the grass, its plaid pattern familiar. On top of it, the same exact foods you shared on that first date. There was the bunch of grapes you had made into a game of throwing into each others mouths, causing you to laugh until your bellies hurt. There was the same small fruit salad you had picked at while talking for hours, and even the same bottle of lemonade he had awkwardly spilled that day.
Every detail was perfect, right down to the basket beside it, overflowing with both of your favourite snacks. Next to it, was an enormous bouquet of flowers.
It wasn’t just a picnic—it was a memory brought to life, with even more care and thought than the first time.
Your chest tightened with emotion as you realized just how much he had remembered, how much thought had gone into recreating this moment. You could feel his heartbeat against your back as he held you, his face still resting on your shoulder, watching your reaction with quiet pride.
“You remembered everything” you whispered, almost to yourself. He let out a soft laugh, his cheek brushing against yours. “Of course I did-“ he murmured. “How could I forget?”
As your eyes flickered back over the scene, taking in every detail, It was as if time had looped back on itself, and for a moment, you were the same girl from the very first date, filled with nervous excitement, while he was the boy who made your heart race.
But today, a year later, everything felt even more profound. More real. Because now you knew each other so deeply, shared so many memories, and created a bond that was stronger than ever.
“Happy anniversary” he whispered, his voice full of love.
You turned in his arms, looking up into his eyes. “Happy anniversary” you echoed, smiling up at the man who, a year ago, had stolen your heart—and continued to make you fall for him, over and over again. A year of falling.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
MASTERLIST
taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay
@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4
@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i
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kamotecue · 10 months ago
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her apology ✮ l. walti
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pairing: lia walti x fem!reader
part two of here
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the shuffling of blankets were heard, as you moved around in the hotel bed. the game against switzerland made you a little bit restless, it was the way her shoulder had hit you, almost knocking you to the ground—if ana didn’t catch you, it could’ve risked your recovery time. you sighed before throwing the blanket up, resting your back against the head board.
are you hungry? - aitana signed, as you gave her a little nod. you haven’t wore the hearing aids since the match, there was a bit discomfort due to the uproar when you had went down.
i have plans with ana for brunch, wanna join? - you signed, as aitana gave you a nod, as she handed you the clothes that you had set aside last night. it was grey loose plaid pants, a simple white polo shirt and your gold necklace that had your name in cursive a gift from mapi.
the brace was already on, as you handed aitana your wallet and phone, she quickly placed it in her bag and the two of you were already off. as the two of you made your way through the plaza, you were noticed mainly by barcelona fans—the two of you politely smiled, and greeted them as you passed by.
when you arrived at the restaurant, your eyes searched the place as aitana raised her hand—guiding you to the table ana was sitting at, she was joined by a few of her teammates. but your eyes were on their captain who refused to look at you, aitana had sat in front of lia, while you were in front of ana.
really? - a scowl was seen on your face, as you signed at ana who had an amused look on her face, it was a look that you desperately wanted to remove. aitana gave you a little nudge as you turned to look at her—your phone was held out as you grabbed it giving her a small thanks.
what? you need to solve whatever this is, n/n. - ana gestured with a laugh as you glared at her, but the attention was brought to the waiter as he approached the table. you had sat up straight, finally reaching through your pocket to fish out the container. the pop was heard, as you hummed before pulling it out—gaining lia’s attention.
“i’ll have what you’ll have, tana.” your soft voice was heard, as aitana hummed taking note of your words, ana had simply gave you a smile as you tore your eyes away from the menu—quickly looking at your phone, the heap of messages from your agent as offers were coming to a close.
the rumors are true, you won’t be renewing your contract with barca. instead you’ll sign to a new team, rumors have it you’ll enter the french league, or the wsl league—others think you’ll sign for real madrid.
“poniéndoselos por fin? [finally putting them on?]” aitana asked, as you fidgeted with your phone.
“los quitaré pronto. [i will remove them soon.]” a nod was given as the table had engaged in a small conversation, you had occasionally replied—not knowing how a certain player had looked at you.
you were consuming her thoughts, it wasn’t like her to brush off a player. but when you didn’t respond after her making an effort in english, she thought you had ignored her. but everything was clear when you brought out the case, and she felt ashamed of her actions.
that night, her first search on instagram was your page—there were photos of you with the barcelona team, the spanish national team but there wasn’t enough photos of you by yourself.
as everyone finished up, it was time to pay—the bill was split in half. you paid for your meal, aitana’s, ana’s and lia’s. it was something the swiss player hadn’t expect, but she had gave you a thankful smile to which you returned with a curt nod.
the rest of their teammates decided to head back early, leaving the two swiss duo, you and aitana alone.
“shall we look around?” you shrugged, as aitana gave ana a nod. aitana and ana had led the group, while the two of you hung back. the crutches were the most annoying part of this.
“leon.” a soft yet gentle voice was heard beside you, as you tore your eyes away from the two ahead to lock eyes with the swiss captain.
“walti.” you had said, the pair had watched from a few feet ahead, whispering on what could possibly happen.
“i’m sorry for the way i acted, after the match.” lia replied, as you analyzed her eyes—the features catching you off-guard as you averted your eyes.
“it’s fine, i didn’t really mind it.” of course, you did mind it—afraid that you did something that she didn’t like.
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sunsetsimon · 11 months ago
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i think one of simon's favorite seasons is winter. why?
simon likes the quiet of winter time. the light dim, the only sounds coming from the fireplace lit in the corner of the room. you're both reading a book, occasionally gazing out of the window to monitor the silent snowfall. it piles up quickly, coating the entire neighborhood in a layer of bright white.
he loves hoodies, they're basically his entire wardrobe. simon dresses for comfort over style and wears a lot of neutrals, so it only makes sense. when it's really cold he'll layer it with the thick jacket you got him and throw on a beanie. and don't even think about leaving without being bundled up, he'll pull you right back inside with a frown.
he likes how there's less people out and about on the colder days, when the wind is blowing. he's more relaxed, not constantly watching everyone for anything suspicious. it's fun listening to you squeal as you nearly run to the next shop, trying not to blow away with the strong gusts of wind and he's just following you laughing. simon's used to bad weather and his huge body provides a lot of heat, so he doesn't have to struggle like you.
finding every excuse he can to cuddle you and be close. oh no, the blanket is in the wash! guess you have to come crawl into his shirt to warm up. oh no, you forgot your gloves! guess simon has to hold your hand in his pocket so you don't freeze. he plans these things out, i swear.
walking out from his hot shower and smelling the soup you're cooking makes him feel so cozy. you're wearing matching outfits, plaid green sweatpants and a white long sleeve t-shirt. he pulls you in close, kissing you softly, resting his forehead against yours in pure bliss. this is what being happy is to him.
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