#Wooden Plant Home Decor Stand

[indecorcollection]

Best Outdoor Lounge Furniture in USA

Looking to upgrade your outdoor living space for the summer? One great option is to invest in high-quality, comfortable outdoor lounge furniture USA from Indecor Collection. This online retailer has a wide selection of outdoor sofas, sectionals, chairs, and more to choose from.

When shopping on their site, you'll find durable, weather-resistant outdoor furniture made from materials like wicker, aluminum, and all-weather wicker. Brands like Home Harmony Essentials offer chic, contemporary styles built to last outside.

Some things to consider when buying outdoor lounge furniture:

Size - Make sure to measure your patio or deck to get the right proportions. Sectionals can be configured in different shapes.

Material - All-weather wicker is low maintenance and won't fade or deteriorate outdoors. Aluminum frames are rust-resistant.

Cushions - Look for cushions with UV-resistant fabric and water-resistant fill. Removable cushion covers make cleaning easy.

Extras - Ottomans, side tables, swivel chairs, and chaises can maximize comfort and style.

I recommend Home Harmony Essentials for their clean-lined aesthetic and durable construction. Their sofas and sectionals come in neutral hues that will coordinate across any outdoor space.

To furnish your outdoor oasis in style, browse the selection at Indecor Collection this season. Their outdoor lounge furniture is designed to create a cozy, welcoming area perfect for relaxing with family and friends all summer long.

[prettypractical]

The Ultimate Guide to Buying Home Decoration Items Online

Welcome to Pretty and Practical! Your go-to source for stunning and functional home decor items. Our online store offers a vast selection of decorative pieces that can transform any space into a cozy and stylish haven. In this guide, we’ll help you navigate the world of online home decor shopping, ensuring you find the perfect items to match your taste and budget.

Why Buy Home Decoration Items Online?

1. Convenience: Shop from the comfort of your home without the hassle of traveling to multiple stores.

2. Variety: Access a wider range of products and styles that you might not find locally.

3. Reviews and Ratings: Benefit from other customers’ experiences to make informed decisions.

4. Competitive Prices: Find the best deals and discounts that are often exclusive to online shoppers.

5. Easy Comparison: Compare products, prices, and features effortlessly.

How to Choose the Best Home Decoration Items

1. Know Your Style: Understand your personal style—be it modern, rustic, minimalist, or eclectic.

2. Measure Your Space: Always measure the space where you plan to place the decor to ensure it fits perfectly.

3. Set a Budget: Determine your budget beforehand to avoid overspending.

4. Read Reviews: Check customer reviews and ratings to gauge the quality and durability of the items.

5. Consider Functionality: Opt for items that are not only beautiful but also practical and functional.

Popular Home Decoration Items

1. Wall Art: Paintings, prints, and wall hangings to add character to your walls.

2. Throw Pillows and Blankets: Enhance comfort and style on your sofas and beds.

3. Lighting: Unique lamps, chandeliers, and fairy lights to create ambiance.

4. Rugs: Area rugs and runners to define spaces and add warmth.

5. Mirrors: Decorative mirrors that also make rooms appear larger and brighter.

Tips for a Smooth Online Shopping Experience

1. Check Return Policies: Ensure the store has a flexible return policy in case the items don’t meet your expectations.

2. Look for Discounts: Sign up for newsletters or follow social media pages to stay updated on promotions and discounts.

3. Secure Payment Options: Make sure the website offers secure payment methods to protect your personal information.

4. Track Your Order: Opt for tracking options to keep an eye on your purchase until it arrives.

FAQ

Q: How do I choose the right size for home decor items?

A: Measure the space where you plan to place the item and compare it with the product dimensions listed on the website. This ensures a perfect fit.

Q: What should I consider when buying wall art?

A: Consider the size, color scheme, and style of your room. Wall art should complement the existing decor and not overwhelm the space.

Q: Can I return home decoration items if they don’t match my expectations?

A: Yes, Pretty and Practical offers a hassle-free return policy. Please check our return policy page for more details.

Q: How do I know if an online store is reliable?

A: Look for customer reviews, ratings, and secure payment options. Reliable stores also have clear contact information and return policies.

Q: Are there any shipping fees for online purchases?

A: Shipping fees vary depending on the item and location. Pretty and Practical often offers free shipping on orders above a certain amount. Check our shipping policy for more information.

At Pretty and Practical, we strive to offer the best in home decor with a focus on both aesthetics and functionality. Explore our collection today and find the perfect pieces to make your home truly yours.

[simkoos]

i'm a huge fan of simple yet stylish furniture and ikea does it for me every time! this collection is based on a few items i've added to my cart (and never purchased) over the years lmao i hope you like it! 💛

all items are base game compatible (unless stated otherwise!)

this collection includes 51 decor and functional buy items!

uppland armchair - 19 swatches

uppland loveseat - 19 swatches

uppland sofa - 19 swatches

poang armchair - 19 swatches

jules dining chair (wooden) - 11 wood swatches

jules dining chair (plastic) - 19 swatches

nordli bedframe - 11 wood swatches + black & white

vikagrevsta dining table (1x1) - 19 swatches

vikagrevsta dining table (2x1) - 19 swatches

vikagrevsta dining table (3x1) - 19 swatches

malm dressing table - 11 wood swatches + black & white

malm dressing table (with mirror) - requires sp09 vintage glamour, 11 wood swatches + black & white

malm dresser - 11 wood swatches + black & white

lack side table - 11 wood swatches + black & white

lack tv stand - 11 wood swatches + black & white

lack coffee table - 11 wood swatches + black & white

lack wall shelf - 11 wood swatches + black & white

olivblad plant stand - 11 wood swatches + black & white

jattesta shelf - 11 wood swatches + black & white

ekenabben shelf - 22 wood swatches + black & white

lappland tv shelf & storage - 11 wood swatches + black & white

aurdal closet unit - 11 wood swatches + black & white

ikornnes floor mirror - 11 wood swatches + black & white

enhet cabinet (with mirror) - 11 wood swatches + black & white

lindbyn mirror - 11 wood swatches + black & white

bondskaret coat stand - 10 swatches

brogrund corner wall shelf - 1 swatch

tridsno floor lamp - 13 swatches

ledsjo wall light - 5 metallic swatches

bettorp led mobile lamp - 19 swatches

blasverk table lamp - 21 swatches

tvarhand table lamp - 19 swatches

flottilj desk lamp - 20 swatches

klunka laundry bag - requires sp13 laundry day, 1 swatch

bollbuske plant pot - 19 swatches

artbuske watering can - 1 swatch

kopparbjork vase - 20 swatches

vasen vase with lillies - 6 swatches

famnig hjarta cushion - 20 swatches

lindrande home scuplture - 8 metallic swatches

dundergubbe moving box (large) - 1 swatch, 4 variations

dundergubbe moving box (medium) - 1 swatch, 4 variations

frakta carrier bag - 1 swatch

kalas collection (plate, bowl, mug, cutlery) - 25 swatches

xl rug collection - 36 swatches

rug collection - 20 swatches

knoppang photo frame - 7 swatches

underhalla wooden blocks (toddler toy) - 6 swatches

s/o to @nucrests for not only testing everything but also encouraging me to continue when i wanted to give up and scrap this entire project. 😭💜

download on patreon!

[greenleafgoddess]

cute plant stand, perfect for a living room space

Amazon link:

[peachsukii]

I've got Kirishima on the brain today and thinking about a soulmate magic AU where he's a wandering adventurer, aimlessly trudging through the forest when he stumbles upon your cozy cottage. Normally, he'd keep his focus and remain on course to get to town, but something about your home drew him in, too magnetic for him to walk away.

He knocks on your door, perplexed on what to say if you answer and prepares to bolt when the door creaks open, partially revealing your face. The scent of warm cinnamon mixed with smoke invades his senses as he stands there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Are you lost?" you ask, opening the door fully to reveal yourself and tilting your head with curiosity. "The nearest town is a few miles north of here. You can't miss it."

Oh...wow. You're so pretty, and yet, you look familiar.

There's no way he'd know who you were, you just met.

"Uh...no?" Kirishima responds with uncertainty, hoping it didn't make him look like a fool. "Just a little out of it from traveling all day and was passing by. I'm sorry for bothering you, I'll keep heading north to town."

You step to the side and motion for him to join you in your home. "It's quite alright, I don't get company often. Come in, you can rest for a bit."

He doesn't hesitate to enter, taking in the decorations of your beautiful cottage - dried herbs, flowers and plants of all kinds. Your fireplace is flickering away with a pot nestled over top of it, the liquid inside bubbling rapidly.

"Sit, I just made some tea. I'll pour you some," you insist, pulling one of the wooden chairs out from the small table by the fire. Kirishima settles and puts some of his belongings on the floor to lighten the weight on his tired body. That's when he notices a warming sensation coming from his chest, but not internally...externally. When he tugs at the pendant around his neck, the normal white crystal has turned pearlescent, shimmering dimly beneath his traveler's gear like a firefly.

'What...is happening?' he thinks to himself, suddenly remembering his mother's words before he departed on his current outing.

"Remember son, that pendant has been passed down in our family for generations. It has guided each of the Kirishima's to their fated partner and has yet to fail. When it glows, that's the sign of finding said partner - your soulmate, the one you will carry on the Kirishima name with."

Kirishima begins to sink into his thoughts, lost to the overwhelming notion that he stumbled upon the home where his soulmate lived. There's no way that a stranger in the woods could be...

Wait a second.

Now that he's analyzing the insides of your home, he realizes his crucial mistake and why he recognizes you.

You're the wicked witch everyone back home warned him about, isolated to the forest and banned multiple cities on the coast, your face plastered on numerous posters around his hometown.

"Everything okay, traveler?" you ask sweetly while placing the cup of tea in front of him. "You're looking a little pale."

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 1- Hill Giant Strength

Wrote it, thought I should sit on it to better edit, then decided I ain't patient. Bon appetite.

Rated VERY E.

Astarion has a plan. A nice, simple plan. His love has been gone for almost a tenday, but now she's back, and he needs her to obliterate him in the best way possible.

Night has fallen. Apprentice spellworkers dart through the streets to light the lanterns as the pale wash of sunset fades into purple, and then black.

Astarion stands near the window overlooking the front street and the small, rather overgrown garden his love has been somewhat tending to.

She’s late.

She’s actually two days late, but he’s inclined to blame the wizard for that. No, she should have been here thirty minutes ago, right as the last curve of the sun sank behind the distant buildings and released the creatures of the night to their nefarious doings.

To which he would happily add his own misdeeds. Except that she’s late.

Something happened. They were waylaid by pirates. A kraken rose from the deep to smash Waterdeep and pulled that wizard tower down on top of them, and her body is so human and so, so mortal. He needs to go. Needs to check—

Magic stirs below. The scent of cinnamon and licorice he always associates with Gale’s spells. A glimmer of purple flickers in the space right before their front gate—she painted it teal and seemed quite pleased with herself—before a shimmering, purple cloud unfurls taller and taller and…

His breath sighs out of him. She emerges. Eleanor. His former leader, his friend, his love. She’s back. She’s home.

He lets the curtain fall back into place.

They’re plush things, and heavy. Purchased with him in mind and enchanted to boot. Usually, the moment it’s safe to do so, he throws them open to catch the fading light still painting the sky.

But not tonight. He doesn’t care about the sky, today. And he doesn’t want an audience.

Well, aside from one, anyway.

She unlatches the little gate and steps through. Her footsteps sound heavy. She must be tired. He hopes that won’t alter his plans. Because he did. Plan. He’s getting better at that. But now she’s late and it’s thrown him so he hurries down the stairs, soft as a sigh.

Not that he needs to. Her hearing is awful (she says it’s quite good for a human and he feels a twinge of pity at that). Plus their townhouse is enchanted against noise. Can’t have the neighbors (he has neighbors) complaining about the screaming (it’s not even bad screaming; usually involves a lot of “yes, yes oh god” even).

He hits the ground floor and surveys the room. It’s nothing grand. Nothing like the mansion he still gets dragged to in reverie sometimes. But it’s bright and tidy (they pay someone for that, because it turns out neither of them is particularly good at housekeeping). The wooden floor is well-swept and decorated with colorful rugs and potted plants (dearest Eleanor says her people were farmers). The walls are covered in patterned wallpaper and bookshelves and trinkets, tapestries and paintings she should have haggled better for, but didn’t because “good art is worth the artist.”

It's very her. And, he thinks, it might possibly him, as well? Part of him? They change things as they need to as he figures that whole mess out.

But he’s really here to check that everything is in place. No elaborate staging, though. He chose his own clothes for his own reasons, for his own purposes. He’s in their home. And it smells of them.

Or it did smell of them, And that’s the problem.

Oh, his scent is everywhere. He can’t escape that. But she’s been gone the better part of a tenday, and it’s her that’s beginning to fade.

The first, few nights were tolerable. He could nuzzle into her pillow and remember to breathe. The bedding smelled of her: rich blood, the linden soap she favors, and that wonderful, clean scent she carries on her skin. It was nearly enough for him to imagine he held her as he rested.

But the bedding wasn’t warm, like her. And though the late, summer sunlight warms the stone walls of their home and chases away the burgeoning chill of autumn, there was no living body within the walls to fill it with heat.

She wasn’t there. He was alone.

He’s been alone before, of course. Was practically alone for two centuries before he threatened her on that beach (he sighs fondly at the memory: her on her back, staring up at him with what he initially mistook for a simpleton’s vacancy, but later learned was a vicious cunning) (when she wasn’t tired) (and when what she calls her “brain chemicals” were correctly balanced).

Then they were together (he feels himself smile) for a little over a year, now. And in that time, they’ve never been apart as long as this expedition of hers.

And now their home is too cold. Too quiet. And nerves twist his stomach.

It’s almost hilarious. Centuries at seduction, and he’s now reduced to fussing over his clothing as he waits. Second guessing: where he’ll stand, how he’ll position himself. It used to be as effortless as, well, not breathing, but blinking, perhaps (even that’s a stretch). He barely thought about it. Wasn’t entirely present for more than half of it.

But now every moment drags. Her steps up their walkway. The way her lungs draw air. The beat of her heart and there’s no one to witness the slight stumble as his knees go stupidly weak.

He ought to sneer at the thought. A little over a year ago, he would have done far worse. Probably stabbed someone. But now, it’s Eleanor and he missed her, gods help him, and he smooths his hands along his front and takes up position at the door. Waits until…just…there.

Opens that door for her.

Her hand is raised to grab the knob. Now it hovers and slowly falls to her side as she boggles.

He chose well, it turns out. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he looks good. He’s retrieved his heels and laced them up. Unpacked another purchase he kept from her: a long, blood red dress of embroidered silk. It’s a slim fit, meant to hug his form. Would be tight along the legs if it wasn’t for the slit up one side.

The sleeves fall off his shoulders in a way he knows highlights them. She does love his shoulders (loves to clutch them as he works between her legs) (curl her head upon them as he reads to her) (dig her fingers in to try to ease the tense muscles when that blasted joke of an editor at the Baldur’s Mouth throws some feeble counterargument back at him).

But it’s the way her eyes follow along his collarbones to the dip that leads down his chest. It’s his chest that’s her favorite part of him (well, second) (alright, third because she says disgusting things like “your eyes” and “the way you smile” and “but if you didn’t have a mouth, I couldn’t hear you talk about plagues”).

(And she means all of those statements; she’ll just…sit there and listen to him prattle on—)

“Good evening, lover,” he purrs.

She almost drops all three bags she carries.

***

The rest on AO3 so no tumblr horny jail for me.

[highvern]

Lucky Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship

Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets

Length: ~1.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol

read more here

“Can’t believe you’re not picking up your phone right now. Really selfish of you. What if I was dying in the street and you didn’t know because you ignored my call? What then, huh? Your poor boyfriend just wants to talk to you but I guess you hate me now.”

You chuckle at the sound of your Mingyu’s scolding. Always one for dramatics, that one. Toweling off your hair, you move to tidy the discarded packaging from the decorations you spent hanging all afternoon. Mingyu’s voicemail plays through the speaker of your phone on the counter as you work to clean up before people start arriving.

“Anyways! I picked up the cake for the party tonight, and some more snacks and beer just in case. The lady at the bakery said the cake took her all morning because the picture I sent of Jihyo kept making her laugh. Hate to say it but I think you have some competition. I can already see us getting married and being her sugar baby.”

Everytime an old lady even compliments Mingyu he tells you to watch your back because they want to steal him from you. Your eyes roll at his comments but they humor you nonetheless.

“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you though, so she's gonna need to step up her game. Alright, I’m gonna stop at my place to shower and grab some clothes and then I’ll head your way. Text me if I need to get anything else on my way, okay? Love you, bye!”

You freeze, plastic bags and towel dropping to the floor with a wet thud. 

“Shit.” 

You hear his faint curse through the speaker as the voicemail ends. 

Heart squeezing as you replay his words over and over, you plop down on your butt to the hard wooden floor. Love you, bye! Love you, love you, love…

He loves me.

Oh boy.

The new information is magical, twisting your insides in knots as you think of all the times you’ve wanted to say those very words you’ve buried in your chest over and over. The times he makes you laugh so hard you think you might pee your pants, his own giggles pulling him to the ground; when he cleaned out space in his dresser for your stuff, buying duplicates of your toiletries so you could come over whenever you wanted and feel at home; when your car broke down on the side of the road and he came to pick you up, racing across town in the dark of night to get you; when Wonwoo told you he’d never seen Mingyu so happy since you’d started dating; the time he cried when Seungcheol recited his vows to his now wife; how he always pulls a extra mug out of the cabinet when he makes his morning coffee, leaving it next to the machine with a sweet note for when you get up.

I love him.

Oh boy, indeed.

Standing, you grab your phone from the counter. Mingyu called almost an hour ago meaning he will be at your apartment any second. You use the few minutes you have left to calm your breathing, praying your hands stop shaking and the blush you feel dissipates as you open the freezer and pludge your face into the cold air.

A clunky knock at the door startles you. Sprinting to unlock it, you nearly fly face first into the door knob in your haste. 

On the other side is your boyfriend, thick waves of stress palpable as they roll off his body. Mingyu’s hands are full with groceries so you snag the cake, planting a quick kiss on his chin in greeting.

“Hi,” he mumbles, fear evident on his face.

“Hi!” You beam, dazzling smile thrown over your shoulder as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Ugh, did you get my message?” 

Mingyu pauses to kick off his shoes by the door, nervousness firing through every fiber of his being. He meant what he said on the phone, but you've only been dating for a few months and he doesn’t want to mess anything up by being over eager. Correction: he can’t mess this up; he’s certain the heartbreak would kill him.

Mingyu prides himself on all the times he’s reigned in those three little words from slipping past his lips. Whenever he’s drunk and sees you smile, whenever he’s sober and sees you smile; when you cried about your shitty boss; when he cried at Seungcheol’s wedding, imagination running rampent; every morning when he wakes up next to you and every night before falling asleep in the same place; when you took care of him when he had the flu a few weeks ago; the first time he saw the new toothbrush you bought him to keep at your place, sitting in the cup on bathroom sink right next to yours. The list is endless. 

He can’t help that he’s built to love so deeply; his friends, his family, all of the important people in his life have their own space carved in his heart including you. Even before you started dating he cared for you. Your name has been branded in his chest since day one and inferno has only grown as his fondness expands with each moment.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”

“It's okay! I just know you like to be kept updated.”

After placing Jihyo’s birthday cake safely in the fridge, you turn to face your boyfriend. He looks like he might actually throw up, hands shaking as he unpacks the bags he’s brought in and eyes refusing to look in your direction. You can tell Mingyu is watching you out of his peripheral, waiting for you to comment on his confession with bated breath.

You stride around the kitchen island to stand next to him, helping sort the different treats he bought in silence. The juxtaposition between you two is almost laughable. You’re all shy smiles and flushed cheeks, unable to control the wild thump of your heart; while Mingyu looks like he might sprint out the door and into traffic at the drop of a hat.

Once all the bags are discarded, food lining the counter to be prepped, you turn to rest your back against the edge of the cool marble, your soft gaze focuses on his face. Arms crossing in front of you, you watch as he pretends to be busy to avoid meeting your eyes.

“I love you too.” You confess shyly, sides of your mouth quirking upwards.

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he might give himself whiplash. All you can do is smile demurely, embarrassed by the way he stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Really?”

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently.

Next thing you know you’re consumed in a tight embrace, squashed into his chest as he squeezes you so hard you might explode. The smell of his cologne and laundry detergent waft of his shirt, soothing your own nerves as you relax in his hold. You can hear his heart racing in his chest, thundering below your ear; your own echoing in response.

“Say it again.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I love you.”

“Oh my god.” He gasps.

“Say it back.” you pout, chin digging into his pec as you peer up at him.

For a second, all Mingyu can do is stare at you, face soft with emotion, eyes cataloging your features. In his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to feel this way about another person. How lucky is he that the person he loves loves him too?

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He says, hands moving to cup your face as he emphasizes a different word with each repetition, tip of his nose rubbing against the side of your own.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“I can’t help it! I love you! And you love me!” He wails, pushing his face into your cheek. “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Aww, Gyu!” You coo, turning your head to kiss away his tears as they fall.

Mingyu catches your lips with his, needing to show you how much he cares for you rather than just tell you. 

But one more time doesn’t hurt.

“I love you.”

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere!Child x Monster! Reader)

Chapter 2: The men in his life

[part 0, 1, here]

CW: femme bodied GN Reader, vulgar language, mentions of abuse, infidelity, unintentional manipulation

Stepping out of the shower felt no different than stepping into it. The wetness was felt, as the water was absorbed into their skin, but just as they could not feel the cold outside, they could not take comfort in the warmth of a shower.

Their home was.. quaint. (Reader) had to learn the concept of an apartment from their newly adopted son (the disgust they felt when they looked out at the building and believed the family lived in a hotel was visible on their face), and although they had their reservations, it wasn't nearly as pathetic as they assumed it would be. They had lived in poverty before, in a space larger than this, however there was electricity and heating; there was more fresh food than (Reader) knew was possible of storing, there were plants and plenty of clothes. Everything was very advanced, and it seemed as though life was much easier to live than before (even if they needed assistance with activating the shower).

Leaving faint footprints on the fake wooden floor, (Reader) saw family portraits both hung up and in standing frames on random shelving. Avery sleepily teetered over towards the monster, instinctively reaching out to grab their hand.

"I... did a truly terrible job of recreating her."

"Hm?"

"I look nothing like your mother."

Avery's hand flexed open for a millisecond before squeezing tighter. His face was scrunched in confusion, like his inability to process his own emotions was upsetting him. "I'm okay with that."

I'm sure you are. (Reader) glanced from Luanne to the man smiling next to her. But will he?

"What is your father's name?"

"Michael."

(Reader) picked up the drowsy child. His hair still smelled like the woods. "Is he a good man?"

The boy sagged, melting into his new "mother's" arms. "I mean, yeah? Mom yells at him a lot though.."

His room was decorated with comic book posters and action figures on every surface. The bed felt luxurious to the monster, and the blanket was expertly made, with intricate characters dyed into the fabric. They would later learn that it was a mass produced comforter, but at that moment it made them wonder who bought such an obviously expensive bed set for a child. If it was the mother, then why? She seemed to despise her son. And if it was the father, then that seemed to be a sign of good luck for (Reader). A kind and loving husband would probably be more welcoming to a previously hostile wife if "she" suddenly became equally as kind and loving.

Avery's tired eyes became unfocused as (Reader) tucked him in.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

(Reader) thought of Luanne. Her slightly crinkled skin under her eyes in the photos on the walls. The bright red lipstick on the bathroom counter and the perfume bottle in the medicine cabinet that reeked like her jacket and the skin she owned as (Reader) tore open her body.

"Yes." They were beginning to feel that they were just as confused as Avery.

This family was just a cover. And this family would eventually be nothing more than a meal.

But despite that, they still sat on his bed until the child fell asleep.

(Reader) almost went to investigate their own bed, when the front door opened very softly and slowly. Someone was sneaking in. They calmly changed direction in the hall, silently entering the living room to meet their new husband, who was quietly attempting to remove his shoes.

The monster watched him, his awkward movements as his heart loudly beat in his white collared shirt, and they felt a sense of unease. This was, clearly, Michael. It was the same man from the photographs. So why was he tiptoeing into his own home?

Michael took a shaky breath, calming his anxious heart, when he turned around and saw his wife, nearly experiencing a heart attack.

"Jesus, Luanne! Why're you just standing there?" His tone was accusatory despite the warm smile he had on his face. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up by that prick Donnie. Made me stay late to fix some fuck up that the new kid made.."

As he, loudly, approached the monster posing as his wife, they could smell him; and suddenly everything made sense.

He didn't even blink as he stared into his wife's eyes. There was no flicker of discomfort, recognition in his expression.. Michael couldn't tell that there was something off about Luanne.

His shirt smelled like chemicals and fruit and plastic and alcohol.

He leaned in to kiss (Reader).

They were used to kissing humans.

They never once enjoyed it.

But it was something they had to do.

To blend in.

However, when Michael opened his mouth it wasn't just cheap wine (Reader) could smell. It was slightly acidic. And they reared their head away in disgust.

Of course a man like this wouldn't have ever noticed that his wife was abusing his son.

"Your breath smells like another woman's cunt." They still expected Michael to finally notice that they weren't his wife, but even after hearing their voice it didn't seem to phase him.

"..Not this again." He abruptly spun away. "I just got home after a long day, can you not act like a crazy bitch for five fucking minutes?!"

He tossed his keys onto the little table by the front door as aggressively as he could without "throwing" them.

"I work so hard for you and Avery, and all you do is complain. How is that fair to me? You promised you wouldn't bring this up again, and yet here you are-"

"Avery and I were in an accident today." (Reader) cut him off. They didn't really want any sympathy from him, they just didn't want to listen to his pathetic moaning.

Their words seemed to shock him out of his tirade. "What? Is he okay?"

"Yes. However, I have a concussion.. the amb-u-lance doctors said that it was normal to experience some mild memory loss." They hoped their face appeared sincere. "I'm sorry. I thought I smelled something.."

Michael didn't seem to notice that his wife's speech had changed drastically. He reached out in a sympathetic manner, cupping their face with his hand.

"If it's that bad, why didn't they take you to a hospital?"

Ah.

"They suggested I go if my confusion worsens or if I developed any new symptoms."

He sighed through a grimace. "Well.. I'm glad you're alright."

(Reader) contemplated eating him.

"I see you've already showered.. why don't you go to bed, I'll be there in a second?"

You disgust me.

"I'm going to lay down with Avery. I'm still a little shaken up after the accident."

"How did it-?" Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We can talk in the morning."

He reached out again to hold (Reader), and it felt like mold growing on their skin when he planted a kiss on their forehead. His grip was tight on their shoulders, as if to prove that he could kiss them whenever he felt like it and they had no choice.

No; Luanne had no choice.

(Reader) flashed him a smile. He only smiled back.

What a prick.

They silently left the cheating bastard and returned to Avery's bedroom, where they could hear from his breathing that he had woken up and was doing his best to pretend to sleep. "May I lay down for a while?"

He didn't respond but scooted over to make room on his twin sized bed. The child was so small that it didn't cause much cramping to lie beside him.

"Avery?" It was plain curiosity. But a curiosity that was not appropriate when taking to a child. "Why didn't your father stop Luanne?"

Avery opened his large baby like eyes, staring up at (Reader's) unblinking ones. "What do you mean?"

"Did he ever ask you about your bruises?"

"Yes." He answered automatically before pausing, trying to recall a time when his dad may have noticed how mean his mom could be, and realizing that there was none. Every argument they ever had was about them. They were never about him. "No."

(Reader) wondered why they were probing their son. Maybe, deep down the know what they were doing: driving a wedge between them so (Reader) could eat the boy's father without regret. Yet, it didn't feel that way. They wanted to know. They were curious.

"I am not a human."

"..I know."

"My sense of smell is much greater than yours. As is my hearing."

"Really?"

They pulled Avery into a hug, whispering "I can hear your father's heart from the kitchen."

Instead of fear, this revelation seemed to excite the boy. "Really?!" He theatrically whispered back.

"I can smell.. a raccoon outside, climbing a tree."

A small gasp before a "You are a hero!" squeaked out of Avery.

"Avery." Their voice turned serious. "I can smell another woman on your father."

His breathing hitched. "What does that mean?"

".. Your mother was a very bad person for what she did to you. And your father.. he should have noticed what was happening."

Silence thickened between the two. The concept that his father failed him settled into Avery's tiny, six year old brain. Everything felt very complicated, and it was wearing him down. He felt more exhaustion than he felt in a very long time. "Will you protect me?"

(Reader's) mouth moved before the thought formed in their mind. "Yes."

After a very loud, one sided argument about the trashed vehicle, the monster was taking their new boy to school via the city bus. They understood that a motorized carriage must have been expensive, but their survival felt more important. On top of the irritation from an unnecessary "conversation" with their "husband", it stressed out Avery, who appeared to be distant with his father.

The city bus stunk of piss. It was disgusting, but Avery seemed impressed.

"Mom, there's my school!" He jabbed the window, pointing at a very large building,

"Is this a private institution?"

"Inst- insti- tush- ...no, it's a regular school?"

His face lit up with pride when his mom complimented his school, "It's impressive."

That is what they said, however, after exiting the bus and entering the school grounds, there was a very stern looking man glaring at (Reader) from the steps. He was about Michael's age, shaved bald sporting thick framed glasses and was smartly dressed. Upon seeing his frightening stare, they gently squeezed Avery's hand to catch his attention. "Do I know that man?"

"Yeah, that's Mr. Knight.." Avery sounded very quiet. "He's the counselor. He came over for a visit a few weeks ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know?" He lied.

The serious man's face completely changed when Avery drew near, cracking into a large, lopsided and toothy smile. "Good morning, Mr. Avery! How ya doin?" His voice was impressively deep, but (Reader) was more impressed by the fact that they had just realized there were children and teachers of all races entering the same building. They allowed themselves to smile widely, feeling a moment that was close to satisfaction: having been so many people, it was like joy and revenge all at once to be in the future.

But their smile fell when they looked back at the counselor, and recognized the emotion plastered on his form.

He saw (Reader's) smile, and he could tell that it was different.

He was not like Michael, who was so blind to his wife that he did not notice the change; this man saw their smile, and felt the fear, disgust, confusion, and discomfort that humans felt when they saw a fake human.

The uncanny valley.

Mr. Knight visibly shuttered before returning to his previous anger. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones." He spat out the name like it was vinegar. "I see you're personally escorting your son today."

(Reader) focused on keeping their face neutral.

Avery responded before the creature could. "We got into an accident. The car is getting fixed, so we took the bus."

Worry filled his dark eyes, returning his attention to Avery. "An accident? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but Mom hit her head."

The sympathy he expressed was so plainly fake that it felt spiteful. "Well. Hopefully your injury wasn't too severe?"

(Reader) smiled again.

It made perfect sense. This man hated Luanne, Avery's real mother. But that woman was dead.

"I'm feeling much better now, thank you."

He involuntarily shivered at their voice. Even though he had no way of knowing that the mother was actually an ancient boogeyman forgotten by time, he clearly could feel it.

And while they respected that there seemed to be one adult who cared for Avery, they recognized that Mr. Knight would potentially be a headache for them in the near future.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sweet Pumpkin Chapter 1

Summary:  Bucky is struggling with the dating world and knows that if he ever hopes to have a serious relationship, that he needs to get through his touch deprivation issues.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch people, or them to touch him, but after decades of pain he doesn’t know how to accept physical intimacy from others, or how to give it himself.  He hires Y/N, an intimacy coach and professional cuddler, who comes highly recommended.  Will his heart be able to distinguish between a service given versus real love?

Warnings: mentions of past violence and past sexual assault, language, physical intimacy, eventual smut

**curvy reader

Next chapter

Bucky had walked out on his date.  He rubbed his face harshly in embarrassment and shame.  She seemed nice, but was overly flirtatious, and kept reaching out and touching his hand, his arm, even ran her fingers through the front of his hair, then had all the audacity to trace her finger over his lower lip.  He’d pulled back harshly at that point, excusing himself to the bathroom, but instead swerved to the host stand, paid for the food and ran like his life depended on it.  He’d gotten home and immediately showered, scrubbing the spots she’d touched nearly raw.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be touched.  He actually wanted it…craved it.  But not like that.  She was a stranger, and had felt some kind of entitlement to his personal space right off the bat.  

He’d heard of people who suffered from touch starvation.  Sam had hinted at it once when Bucky flinched away from the friendly touch of a fellow agent they had been working with on a stealth mission.  Bucky knew he had a problem, but didn’t realize just how bad it was until the date.  He sighed harshly as he dried himself off from the shower and got into his pajamas for the night.  He picked up his phone and texted Sam.

B: What was the name of that intimacy coach you had mentioned? 

S: Y/N Y/L/N.  I’ll send you her info.

Bucky thanked him once her contact information popped up on his screen.  He braced himself as he clicked on her phone number.  He sent her a message, being vague but asking for help.  He didn’t expect to get an answer back, seeing as how it was almost 11:00 p.m., but was surprised when she texted back within a few minutes.

Y/N: I’ve been wondering when you would reach out.  How does Friday at 7:00 p.m sound?

Bucky gawked at her message.  

B: Do we know each other?

Y/N: No, Sam just talks too much.  ;) 

He rolled his eyes.  Of course Sam had already talked to her about him.

B:  Now I’m worried.

Y/N:  Don’t be.  

B:  Okay.  Friday at 7.

Y/N:  Awesome.  Here’s my address…

***

Friday at 6:57 Bucky stood outside her door.  He was fighting off his panic and stress.  He needed this.  This would be good for him.  If he ever hoped to move on and have some semblance of a normal life he’d have to be able to accept love from others.  He wanted this.  He swallowed harshly and sighed before knocking on the door.

There were shuffling sounds from the other side and then it swung open.  A woman stood in front of him that looked like the physical embodiment of softness.  She was short, plump, and dressed in an all-off-white sweater and sweatpant outfit that looked like it was made of faux sherpa.  She smiled up at him pleasantly, her eyes twinkling.  

“Sergeant Barnes?” she asked.  

Bucky just stared at her for a moment.  Even her voice was soft.  He nodded before clearing his throat.  “Bucky.  Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yep,” she nodded.  “Come on in.”  She stepped back and held her arm out as a welcome gesture.  Bucky gave her a quick, tight smile before walking inside.  As she shut the door behind him he looked around her apartment.  It was just as soft as she was.  All the colors were muted with pastel greens, more off-whites mixed with rich browns from wooden accents littered around the decor.  There were plants all along the windows, and since nightfall was setting in she had an array of small lamps on and candles lit around the main living room.  In one corner of the room was a large mattress covered in the softest looking blankets and pillows he’d ever seen.  Every surface seemed soft and cozy.

“Are you thirsty?  I can get you some water, soda, juice, even alcohol if you need some liquid courage,” Y/N asked from behind him.

Bucky turned to look at her.  She was watching him, the side of her mouth upturned in a small smirk.  He felt like she could see through him, making him feel unnerved but also strangely understood at the same time.  “I’m alright for now, thank you.”

Y/N nodded and then walked past him to one of the large chairs near the furthest window.  “Well, how about you make yourself comfortable and tell me why you’re here?” she said, plopping down on the chair and grabbing a notebook and pen on a small side table sitting next to it.

Bucky blinked before toeing off his shoes and hanging up his jacket on the hook near the front door.  He slowly walked over to the chair opposite her and sat down.  She was watching him again, the smirk never leaving her face.  “Well, uh, I’m not sure how much you already know about me and my past,” he started, his hands wringing in his lap, not quite meeting her gaze.  

Y/N hummed.  “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, born March 10, 1917, which would make you 107 years old now.  Grew up in Brooklyn, New York.  Drafted to join the army in WWII, where you were unfortunately captured, experimented on and tortured by Hydra.  You’re best friend and newly made Captain America, Steve Rogers, rescued you and other prisoners and then made a team called the Howling Commandos.  You were a sniper.  You fell from a train during a mission and were presumed dead in 1943.  And then reappeared decades later as the fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier, where you were brainwashed and forced to do their bidding.  From there it gets a bit muddy with specifics and government cover ups, but you made it out the other side a free man.  And now I’m assuming you’re here talking to me of all people because after all that, you now struggle with being physically close to others because you’re afraid of more pain and being taken advantage of, yes?”

Bucky blinked at her in shock, slowly nodding his head.  “Did Sam tell you all that?”

Y/N shook her head.  “I do my research.  Sam said you’re a great guy who just needs some help.  And any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine.”

Bucky slightly smirked back at her.  “And how are you friend’s with Sam?”

“I was in his grief counseling support group at the VA,” Y/N said.  

“Well you know an awful lot about me, but I know nothing about you.  Makes me feel a bit out of my depth,” he confessed, his eyes narrowing at her.

“What do you wanna know?” Y/N asked, setting the notebook and pen back down on the side table, lifting her feet up to sit criss-cross.

Bucky took that as an invitation to get comfortable and leaned back in the chair more.  “Same stuff you know about me would be a good start.”

Her smile widened.  “Alright.  I’m Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.  Born Y/B/D.  Grew up in Queens, New York.  I came from a military family, but never joined myself.  I lost my brother to an IED in Baghdad.  My parents died a year later from a car accident.  Then I was sexually assaulted by a close friend.”  Bucky frowned.  “I went through a few years of severe depression, got some serious therapy then help from an intimacy coach.  It made a huge impression on my life so I decided to get licensed and trained to be one, too.  Now I’m here,” she said, looking around her apartment.  “Any questions?”  Bucky shook his head.  “So what are you hoping to accomplish from this?” she asked him, reaching for her notebook again but not opening it.

He sighed again, looking down at his hands.  “Sam and I talked about being touch starved.  I’ve been through…a lot of shit,” he paused, swallowing harshly.  “A lot of pain, in all different forms.  But I want…I want to be able to open myself up to physical i-intimacy in the future,” he stuttered.  “I went on a date the other night, and she was nice, but she kept touching me, and I couldn’t…I…” he shook his head, closing his eyes and frowning.

“Where did she touch that bothered you?” Y/N asked softly.

Bucky shifted in the chair, opening his eyes to glance at her.  “My hand, my arm, but it was worse around my hair and my face,” he said quietly.

Y/N nodded in understanding.  “That makes sense.  Our heads, hair, our faces, are a lot more intimate than people think they are.  So to have what I’m assuming was a stranger just randomly touch your hair and your face was triggering.”  Bucky nodded.  “Would it be okay if I move my chair close to yours?”

Bucky glanced at the space between their chairs.  He slowly nodded and Y/N stood, dragging her chair close to where he was sitting.  She sat back down and scooted the chair a little closer so that her crossed legs were next to his legs.  She gave him an encouraging smile.  “So how does it feel having me sit close to you like this?”

Bucky looked down at the few inches that separated their legs.  “It’s fine,” he said.

Y/N nodded then scooted closer until her knees were touching his knees.  “How about now?”

He could feel a small uptick in his heartbeat, but he breathed through it.  “It’s…okay,” he said.

Y/N moved away from him, keeping the inches between them.  “So not very comfortable,” she said with a knowing smile.  Bucky huffed a silent laugh.  “How about if I shook your hand?” she asked, sticking out her right hand.

Bucky quickly shook her hand. “That’s fine.”

“Because it’s formal,” Y/N assumed, her eyes narrowing at him.

“Yes,” he agreed.

She nodded again and released his hand.  “Can I hold your hand?”

Bucky blinked rapidly.  “Okay.”  She waited for him to reach his hand out first, then leaned forward and slowly grasped his hand so that she was holding his fingers.  They sat like that in silence for a moment.

“How does that feel?” Y/N asked, watching his face intently.

“It’s…”  Bucky was breathing deeply, trying to keep any panic at bay.  He couldn’t tell if it was the contact itself or the fact that it was contact with a pretty girl that was making his heart rate spike again.  “It’s nice.”

Y/N smiled and then her thumb swept over his knuckles slowly.  “And that?”

Bucky suddenly felt a rush of emotions.  He couldn’t understand why, but something about her firm but gentle grasp on his fingers grounding him and then the soft affection of her thumb across his knuckles brought tears to his eyes.  “That’s really nice,” he whispered, not trusting his voice.

Y/N kept holding his hand, her thumb randomly rubbing across his knuckles and squeezing his fingers lightly.  She leaned forward a little more.  “If I gave you permission to touch me, would that help?”

Bucky quickly sniffed then looked at her quizzically.  “Touch you where?”

“My hands, my arms, my face,” she said.  “The same places you were touched and unsure of.”

Bucky glanced at each spot on her body where the girl on the date had touched him.  “Maybe,” he shrugged.  Y/N let go of his hand and put her hands on her knees.

“Would it be easier for me to look at you while you do it or close my eyes?” she asked him.

“Close your eyes,” Bucky nodded.  He wasn’t sure he could handle her deep, knowing gaze while he was allowed to touch her.

Y/N smiled at him then closed her eyes.  Bucky looked at her for a long moment before reaching his hand out.  He touched her right hand first, laying his hand flat on it, then paused.  She didn’t move or flinch, her eyes staying closed.  He then slipped his hand up to her forearm and gave it a light squeeze.  Bucky then lifted his hand toward her head.  His fingers were shaking as he slowly moved some of the hair at her forehead away like his date had done.  Then his fingers traced down the side of her face until he was cupping her cheek.  

Bucky sat there the longest.  Y/N didn’t move, her face completely neutral as her eyes barely moved behind her eyelids.  She was completely trusting in him.  “Open your eyes,” he whispered.  Y/N opened her eyes, blinking a couple of times as she looked at him.  He stared at her, taking courage in her kind eyes.  “She touched my lips,” he said, frowning in trepidation.

Y/N merely nodded at him.  Bucky inhaled deeply, then watched as his thumb moved along her cheek until he swept it across her lower lip slowly.  She still didn’t move, her gaze never straying from his eyes.  When he was done he dropped his hand from her face, but didn’t lean away.  “How did that feel?” she asked quietly.

“Good,” he answered just as quietly.

Y/N’s smile reappeared.  “Good.”  A ping from her phone had her breaking eye contact as she glanced at it.  “Wow, it’s already time,” she said, leaning away from him.  She smiled at him again.  “I’d like for you to keep coming, Bucky, so we could work toward building your trust and comfort level with touch.  Would you like to continue?”

Bucky nodded, his own smile brightening his face.  “Yes, I’d like that.”

Y/N smiled even wider.  “Then I’ll see you next week.”

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @cjand10 @railmesebstan

[mushroomates]

the fellowship and housekeeping/home decor:

frodo: not his work but still a cozy place. well decorated and tasteful, if not a bit maximalist. bilbo did almost all of the leg work for bagend to look as great as it does and frodo barely keeps up with chores. sunday is laundry day and he washes dishes half well but that’s about it.

sam: what a pleasant place to be. always has a cup of tea ready and slippers by the door. well maintained household, has a self-prescribed chore chart and weekly deep cleaning tasks. always has the guest bedroom made up and loves changing sheets.

pippin: hell hole. adhd clutter. it’s a miracle he functions half as well as he does. hired help comes every other day but you wouldn’t know it by the way things are. has four separate mold colonies in various spots of his bedroom. somehow lost his bedframe and sleeps with his mattress on the floor.

merry: well thought out design to minimize chores. you don’t need to sweep the floors if the whole house is carpeted. doesn’t need to change his bedding if he sleeps on top of the sheets, avoids dusting top shelves by having low to ground storage, etc. tried throwing out all his silverware to avoid dishes. sam regifted him the same set he threw out for his birthday. weird house but very functional.

gandalf: he has no house to keep or decorate. he does, however, keep and decorate others houses. he is my wildest dream and worst nightmare, will not help with dishes but takes to dusting the stairs for whatever reason. no, it is not something anyone asked him to do nor was it needed. leaves little presents around the house for you to find. i did not want a thimble full of sand, but thank you anyways.

aragorn: house husband. will not let his wife do dishes, sweep, take out the trash, or any chores if he can help it. acts of service are this man’s MO and he loves taking care of his wife and even if it’s by wrestling a dirty plate out of her hands. (arwen provides aragorn with a to-do list as well as explicit instructions on how to do them. she also writes the grocery list). arwen also decorated the house and it’s very classy yet cozy. tasteful grandma vibes.

boromir: hand carved mahogany furniture. beautiful cross stitch of his family, small wooden statues and trinkets. very lovely and hand crafted home that he takes care of to the best of his ability. it’s a bit stuffy and smells like pine, but is generally well maintained. his workshop, though, is spotless.

legolas: there’s a small tree growing out of his toilet and plant clippings in the sink. the bath is filled with dirt and rocks and there’s a small wild garden filling out his bathroom. it’s like a self maintained ecosystem and is almost impressive. dishes are everywhere and clothes artfully draped across the floor and every surface.

gimli: don’t ask to see his rock collection. it takes up the whole living room and is alphabetized. it is the focal point and he will stand in front of the shelves until you mention it. will give you a guided tour of his rocks. maintains it actively as well as the rest of his household. very conscious of dust and dirt, sweeps regularly. he needs to.

gollum: burn it. cave creature gremlin who fears the sun does not keep a pleasant abode. my hackles are raised and my feet slimed; this place is unknown grease and fish bones incarnate. i do not enter this place willingly and leave a changed soul. dank, damp and distasteful. there’s a pile of something in the corner that he either sleeps in or hides fish guts for later in. maybe both.

[aka-indulgence]

"So. A Human?"

So i have in my head a slice of life au with Ramattra where he's not Null Sector leader and he just lives in the city in an apartment with Zenyatta, and you meet Ram at the gym... this is set after the meeting and you go to his apartment for the first time and are surprised to find your yoga teacher (Zen) there

And Zen finds out Ram has a human FRIEND??? And he's kinda mad he didn't tell him????? sjdfsd

I want to know these two so bad ToT

Through unforseen circumstances on Ramattra’s part, Zenyatta discovers that his omnic brother has set his eyes on a human. And he. Is. Furious.

(Ramattra x F!Reader) + platonic Zenyatta

(Ao3)

----

“Forty… forty one… Oh!”

You stopped in front of the door labeled 42. There was a plotted plant in the front like the picture Ram had sent you. You hesitated for a moment, shaking your hands. This’ll be the first time you visited Ram in his own home, and you’re blushing at the thought of being with him in a more cozy, private place. Of course he told you he had a roommate which made you a little extra nervous, but he’d assured you that you’d get along swimmingly.

You don’t think he saw your message that you’d arrive, but you didn’t want to spend all your time waiting out in the hallway, so you bit your lip and pressed on the doorbell.

“Coming!” A… strangely familiar voice called from inside. You heard the sound of metallic footsteps approach the door, and…

“Hello, what is it that you’re… oh?”

“... Zenyatta?”

Standing in the doorway was none other than your yoga teacher, the omnic that taught your class on Saturday.

“What a… surprised to see you here, (Y/n.) What’s brought you here?” He greets you warmly though with no less confusion than you’re feeling right now.

“Uh, sorry, I just want to check real quick…” you opened your phone again to see the picture, that you definitely didn’t hallucinate the number and potted plant in the picture. “I was looking for… this door,”

“That does look like my door,” Zenyatta commented upon seeing your picture. “How puzzling… who are you here to meet?”

“Um… yeah… does Ramattra live here?”

There was a pause from Zenyatta upon hearing the name, fixing his look at you. If he had human eyes, you feel like he’d be blinking at you right now.

“You are… looking for Ramattra?”

“Yeah! Um… does he live here, do you know him?”

Another pause.

“Of course. He’s my roommate.”

“You… you’re roommates with Ram?”

“........ Yes, I am roommates with… ‘Ram’…” Zen says slowly, before he breaks out of whatever trance he was in. “Come in, come in. Ramattra just went out to the supermarket, he said he won’t be long. Make yourself comfortable,”

You walk in through a little corridor with Zen closing the door gently behind you, following you into their decently sized apartment living room. It was decorated quaintly, with what looked like a perfect blend of both Ramattra’s and Zenyatta’s style, with tapestries and posters on the wall, a warm colored rug on top of the wooden flooring. A well loved sofa sits in the middle, facing the TV. The kitchen was immaculate and still shining, despite the assortment of stuff on top of the counter which had nothing to do with the kitchen.

“I apologize for the state of the apartment. He did mention he was having someone over today, but he failed to mention who exactly.”

“Oh no, it’s fine! I really like the aesthetic of this place, I feel at home already.” You tell him genuinely.

“So… how did you meet my brother?”

Oh? “Ramattra’s your brother?”

“Oh, not exactly in the way you’re thinking. We are brothers by title. We have no blood to speak of… we just have a close bond with one another, something you’d call ‘brotherly.’”

“Oooh, ok,” you nodded. “I go to the gym a couple times a week, the same gym you like to have your classes in. I’ve seen Ram around, and one day I guess I was doing my deadlifts wrong, because he came over. … I’ll be honest, when he came over I thought I was in trouble, he looks kind of scary when he’s approaching you,”

“I understand. Even other omnics are intimidated by Ramattra,”

“Yeah, enough that I’ve had people tell me to keep away from him, haha. But then he came over to me and asked if he could spot for me, and then we just exchanged numbers,”

Zenyatta puts a hand on his chin inquisitively. “How… curious,”

The sound of the door handle jingling brought both of your attention towards it. Ramattra enters, wearing a coat and scarf combo that made him look very smart. You smile instantly seeing him- it was hard not to everytime you saw him.

“Oh, you’re here. Sorry, I bought some food for you,” he explains, raising a box of sushi at you.

“Aww, thanks Ram!”

You turn, only to find Zenyatta staring down his brother. You’re not sure how you know, it’s not as if the omnic had any identifying facial expressions or visible eyes to get clues from, but the way he was looking at Ramattra felt… intense. When you looked back at Ram, he seemed to be sweating from his gaze.

“How… nice of you to do that for your human friend, Ramattra. Let me help you,”

Zenyatta stands up, bounding over to Ramattra, taking the box, and gently placing it on the coffee table in front of you. Ramattra stands there frozen, until Zen presses his hands together with a huff.

“Is it alright if I borrow Ramattra for a while human? I just remembered something I have to discuss with him.”

“Zen-”

“Oh uh, yeah! That’s no problem with me!”

“Thank you. Please feel free to eat while we speak.”

“Brother-”

Zenyatta cuts him off with a firm grab on his wrist. You’ve never seen Ram so… nervous all of a sudden, and you’ve never seen Zen look so… determined?

“Room, now.” He orders, and without waiting for an answer, he drags Ram into the room with a tapestry on the door.

… Were you in trouble? Was Ramattra in trouble?

You looked at the sushi in front of you.

… Aw. He remembered I like salmon,

*****

Zenyatta could not believe his brother, hiding something as exciting as a human ‘friend’.

“Why did you not tell me,” Zenyatta rounds on him as soon as the door closes, providing privacy for the omnics.

Ramattra sighs, sounding unlike a chided human teenager. “I don’t know what there is to tell-”

“You have. A human. Friend.”

“You don’t approve of me having a human friend?” Ramattra teases.

“You know that will never be a problem and I’ve always hoped for you to form a friendly bond with a human.” Zenyatta presses. He won’t let Ramattra get out of this one.

“You sound upset, though.”

“I am upset you’ve never told me about this,” Zen looks down, fingers pinching… somewhere on his forehead. “Why would you think this was something you did not need to tell me? I am excited! Did you not think how surprised I would be, to have a human knock on our door? And not only that she asked for you, she said that you invited her.”

“I… I did not want to cause a fuss. I was afraid you’d hound me for details,”

“Your efforts seems have been for naught brother, if you’ve decided to invite her over. You were only delaying the inevitable,”

Ramattra grumbles, knowing he’s right.

“How long have you known her?”

Thankfully, it seems Ramattra has given up trying to resist. “I met her about a month or so ago. I… I saw her looking at me. She’d always panicked when our eyes met, and I thought it was… endearing. I found a reason to speak to her when i saw her lifting improperly, and here we are.”

Zenyatta looks towards the doorway, as if he could see you. He opens the door a crack to take a peek.

You were happily eating the sushi in the living room. This might’ve been the first time anyone’s eaten anything in the house. Human food, at least.

“Did you know she’s a student in my yoga class? She must’ve had her gym days on different days, because I’m sure I would’ve seen her…”

“Yes… that was deliberate. I asked to meet her again, and I didn’t want you to see, so I had us meet on other days-”

“You’re regularly meeting her at the gym?!” Zenyatta almost screams, holding Ramattra by his hoodie. “Had I known you could enjoy the company of a human, I would’ve introduced her sooner. She’s a lovely human. She likes to stay back after class and talk with me about life.”

“She is lovely,” Ramattra concurs. “Look, I… I hid it because I’m not sure how this… happened. It’s frustrating. I vowed never to get too close to a human but… she was… I saw her in the gym and she was… cute. She was shy around me. I didn’t think a human could find the infamous ‘ravager’ attractive. She apologized to me for staring. I… liked her staring. I’m… I’m confused brother. I don’t know how she makes it so… easy to like her. I wish I understood what was happening to me…”

Oh, his poor, dear brother… he seemed so lost. It’s at times like this that Zenyatta is reminded that Ramattra is a couple years younger than him. It’s a little funny when a grown omnic like himself could be so troubled by… romance.

… Was his brother in love with a human?

“... You love her,”

Ramattra flinches, and if he were human, he’d be sweating.

“It’s! I wouldn’t… I don’t… I don’t know yet, ok?”

“This is wonderful,” Zenyatta gasped, “brother… are you opening up to humans? Are you seeing the light they possess, like I do?”

Ramattra scoffs.

“Don’t get your hopes too high, brother. This one’s special. I’ve never met a human as respectful, as kind, as sweet as her. She’s the exception, not the rule.”

“A journey of a thousand steps starts with one…”

“I appreciate your sayings brother, but you are expecting too much of me,” Ramattra puts his hand on his shoulder and gets to the door. “I need to get back to her, I can’t leave her alone,”

Zenyatta chortles.

“Of course brother, you’re unsure you’re in love…”

Ramattra makes a sound of embarrassment that Zenyatta doesn’t hear too often these days.

“Ahem,” Ramattra coughs, “I’m being honest when I tell you I don’t know yet… but I will admit that I like her quite a lot and, I’d like her to like me back. I want to make a good impression on her, so… please don’t mention too much about me.”

“About what?”

Ramattra dillydallies, like he’s biting his tongue, but through what would’ve been gritted teeth, he says “... About not liking humans or just… embarassing things. Please,”

… You must be really important to him. Zenyatta has to swallow his excitement as to not mortify his brother any further.

“... Alright. For you brother, I hope nothing but the best of you and your human,”

Ramattra is still for a moment. Then he mumbles.

“... My human…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Ramattra responds lightning fast, opening the door, clearly done with the conversation.

Zenyatta’s rage, having been quickly quelled, feels rewarded that as soon as they exit his room, Ramattra made a beeline for the sofa and sat next to you.

“Are you guys ok?” You ask, bouncing a little when Ramattra sits next to you. Ramattra looked oversized for you, making you sink towards him from the dip he made on the cushions.

If he could, Zenyatta would be smiling slyly.

“We’re fine. I hope you feel welcome in our home, I apologize for our rude departure. Would you like some tea?”

Zenyatta knew he liked you when you brightened up and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll be down to the convenient store,”

“Oh… are you sure? You don’t have to go buy some more,”

“Nonsense. Besides, we don’t really get to use our kitchen appliances here, I’m so excited. I’ll only be away for a minute, so I hope… you and Ramattra… enjoy yourselves,”

Zenyatta takes joy in your puzzled look while Ramattra looks like he’s barely restraining himself from attacking him.

He didn’t wait for a word of protest from his brother, and simply left the apartment.

…

Ramattra turned to you, your sushi unfinished.

“... Do you want to watch something?”

[indecorcollection]

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If you're looking for a unique and stylish way to display your plants, consider buying a wooden plant home decor stand from Indecor Collection. You won't be disappointed!

[prettypractical]

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[earlysunshines]

lip to lip

chou tzuyu x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: after studying for a while you deserve a reward, no?

wc: 2.6k

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬

a/n: my baby my baby

-

tzuyu’s hand is twined with yours as you reach your house.

your girlfriend stares at the house in front of her, and an unexpected nervousness creeps over you. this is the first time tzuyu had ever been to your house, despite being with her for two months now, and you’re feeling a little insecure thinking about your average looking house compared to tzuyu’s

tzuyu gazes at your house, awe etching into her features as she looks at the vast variety of plants that decorate the exterior; the plants are beautiful and bright in the afternoon glow that emphasizes the green of their leaves. another feature that tzuyu notices is the dark blue bike locked up near the door, just against the wooden exterior—she guesses that it’s the same bike you had rode to her house to give her pastries a month ago.

your house fits the neighborhood well—it's comforting and quiet. it really seems like a home.

“it’s um, it’s not much probably, compared to your place…” you mumble timidly as you look at her, fiddling with the keys in your pocket.

“no,” tzuyu starts, “it’s beautiful. your house is really pretty.” she assures. you feel her thumb rub your hand softly and it makes you smile, easing your worries.

you take out the keys in your pocket and it creates a jingle noise from the contact of your keychains clattering with your house keys. the keys in your hand unlock the front door, then the two of you walk in, taking off your shoes and putting them on the wooden shoe rack inside.

compared to tzuyu’s large, eye-catching home, your place was a bit smaller. it was a two-floor house that had two bathrooms—one small and one larger with a shower and bathtub. it also included two bedrooms and one was bigger, your grandparents shared that room. the first floor also had a simple living room in the same area as the kitchen and small dining table. it was well-fitting for the three of you, and that cat that occasionally visited.

tzuyu examines the living room, it’s the first room she sees when she enters the house and it’s very cozy. the flatscreen tv is pretty mediocre in size, not too big and bulky, but not too small, and there’s a small coffee table and a soft looking brown couch behind it as well. one thing that stands out to tzuyu in the living room are small portraits of you; ranging from baby you to secondary school pictures of you posing with a swim trophy. you were adorable, you still are.

your cheeks flush when you catch what she’s eyeing, and you’re quick to direct her attention to something else.

“um, let’s go upstairs, my uh, my room is there.”

“you were cute as a kid.” tzuyu laughs, exchanging glances between the picture of you from middle school to the rose tinted face in front of her. you laugh and shake your head,

“i was silly looking.” you sigh.

“you’re still silly looking.” tzuyu teases, “and cute.”

you roll your eyes and pull at her hand, leading her upstairs and to your room.

when tzuyu enters your room, she’s hit with the scent of vanilla and almonds coming from a diffuser; the room smells just like you. the room is organized and clean for the most part, with the exception of the pens that are messily spilled over your desk and the misplaced pillow on our bed—which she doesn’t mind or really care about at all.

there are also a couple of posters on your wall, some have a band or artist on it, and some are just pleasing artworks from a variety of magazines. it really reflects your interests and personalities. tzuyu finds it endearing.

you set your bag down next to your bed and pull out a chair for tzuyu, motioning for her to sit.

“here. i need to get a seat so we can study together, be right back.” you say with a smile before walking out the bedroom.

tzuyu takes this time to analyze the small trinkets on your desk: there’s some small plastic toys from old animated tv shows and movies on your desk, they’re all the size of a finger nail and lined up for display. stick notes also occupy your desk with little notes to yourself, ranging from simple reminders to broken sentences with no context—tzuyu assumes that you had started writing something and got distracted in the process.

“hi, i’m back.” you beam as you hold a stool in your hands and set it down next to your desk.

“is that comfortable for you?” tzuyu questions, looking at how it lacks support for your back.

you nod and respond, “yeah, not a problem.” as you pull out the books and notes from your school bag, setting them on your desk. before you start working, there’s a sudden discomfort from the bulky uniform you wear.

“i think i’m going to change,” you begin, “would you like to uh, would you like one of my shirts or hoodies? the uniforms are annoying to wear outside of school.” and your face flushes from your own suggestion.

the blush on your cheeks is contagious and spreads to tzuyu’s, who nods shyly at your offering.

you smile and walk over to your closet, pulling out the first two shirts you see and holding them up beside you.

“which one do you want? i have more options and you’re welcome to, y’know, browse through my closet if you want something else…” you trail off, and tzuyu giggles at the two short sleeved shirts you hold onto.

one of them has some sort of tamagotchi character on it, and the color of the shirt itself is an orangish-yellow shade. the other shirt is a dark green color, almost sage green, but a little more unsaturated and forest like. it has three fruits lined up in a horizontal row: a banana, a strawberry, and an orange, which each have a small little doodled face on them. tzuyu thinks both options are cute, childish, and comfy looking.

“i’m fine with either.” tzuyu shrugs, unable to decide.

“well,” you look at the two shirts carefully, even furrowing your brows as you examine them for whatever reason. you put one of the shirts down, now you hold up the dark green shirt and have the yellow one bunched up in your hand. “i think you’d look lovely in this one.” you admit while handing tzuyu the shirt with fruits on it.

tzuyu giggles at your remark and nods. “if you think that then i’ll wear it.”

“i think you’d look good in anything of mine, to be honest.”

you earn an eye roll and a laugh from that comment, warms your heart.

-

the two of you end up studying for an hour and a half.

during those ninety minutes, there’s a lot of groans coming from you as you struggle with the vocabulary of your language class, and tzuyu seems to huff here and there when dealing with math. it has you snickering at each other in between note taking and scribbling equations, which eases the frustration that started to build up in the both of you.

there’s a moment where tzuyu is completely locked in. her brows are furrowed and she’s biting her lip slightly as she writes. she uses the pencil in her hand to jot down a flow of numbers, dashes, signs, and whatever else that you don’t really want to analyze or think of at the moment because math is not your strong suit.

she’s in your yellow shirt that was given to you last christmas, which sits a little loose on her body since it’s oversized on you yourself, and you have a larger, taller frame compared to your girlfriend. you notice that some strands of her hair fall out of her ponytail, and the color of her brown hair is much more prominent under the glow of the light, yellow rays coming from the desk lamp. her face also seems to shine from the light of the desk lamp, and it highlights the soft slope of her nose, as well the pink of her lips. her lips look so soft, so kissable.

tzuyu looks adorable like that.

“is there something on my face?” tzuyu asks, snapping you out of your trance.

you realize that you had been staring. your chin was rested on your knuckles and your face was basically being held up by your arm on the desk.

you gape at her a little more, bolder and with intent now. “you’re pretty.”

tzuyu feels flustered under your gaze, despite you looking a little ridiculous as well as unserious in that adorable childish t-shirt.

she’s only able to laugh at your comment, and it reveals your favorite dimples. she shakes her head and shifts her look back to the paper in front of her, fiddling with her pencil as the smile on your lips grows.

“are you finished with your homework?” you question as you put an arm up in the air, stretching.

“i just have this one question, why?”

“my grandparents are back in-” you check the time on your phone, “-less than an hour, we could do something? watch a movie or just relax, if you’d like.”

tzuyu smiles and sets her pencil down, then moves over quickly to peck your lips.

“i’d love that.” she says, “let me finish this, i’ll be quick.”

you nod with a big grin spread across your face.

as tzuyu finishes up the problem, you put your notebook and folder into your schoolbag, then hang the backpack on the hook that’s stuck on your wall. when you’re back at your desk with tzuyu, you lay your chin on her shoulder and the faint scent of her rosy perfume is noticeable. it smells wonderful.

tzuyu puts her pencil down a minute later, turning her head and placing a shy peck on your forehead.

“done.”

“yay.” you mumble quietly as you pull away from her shoulder. your girlfriend laughs at your response and smiles sweetly.

something in the air shifts and one glance at tzuyu has you feeling a bit more needy, a bit hungry almost. her lips acquire your attention and you’re blatantly staring at them—which has tzuyu turning her head in confusion.

“is there something on my-“

“you look really, really good.” you almost breathe out, looking back at her in the eye. tzuyu raises her brows in surprise and she’s flustered (again) to say the least.

you look at her lips again, then her eyes, then back to her lips. your eyes linger on the inviting feature.

“can i kiss you?” you ask, making eye contact with her again. tzuyu nods with a glow of red on her cheeks.

you smile and cup her cheek, leaning closer and pressing a soft, tender kiss on her lips.

tzuyu hums in satisfaction as you deepen the kiss. your head turns for better access and your lips connect for longer periods of time, both pairs not wanting to part, as if they were magnets with opposite forces.

you two kiss a little longer, it’s not rushed and instead it’s soft, sweet, and passionate.

your girlfriend pulls away for a brief moment and her lips brush against yours, still lingering.

“can we move to your bed?” she asks, breath warm against you.

“yeah,” you respond.

the two of you get up, still close together. your lips meet again as you stand up and blindly move towards your full-sized bed. when your calf hits the mattress you sit down slowly, tzuyu leaning down a bit to keep her lips on yours.

you part for a brief moment and tzuyu whines in response—it makes you laugh.

“do you want to sit on my lap?” you suggest, “i think it’d be more comfortable.”

your proposal catches her off guard, makes her whole body burn and pupils dilate. tzuyu hesitates before climbing onto your lap, settling herself gently as you place your hands on her hips—her brain stops working for a second.

the two of you smile, faces inches apart as you study each other’s features. tzuyu notices that your lips are a darker in color now and just barely puffy from how she had been kissing them. your pupils are wide, practically taking over your whole eye as you stare at her with a deep longing.

your girlfriend cups your burning cheek and rubs it with her thumb softly before sliding her arms around your neck.

“you’re so cute, y/n.” she mumbles against your lips before kissing you again, almost stealing the oxygen from your lungs.

her lips melt into yours as they make contact again, and your hand subconsciously moves to the edge of your shirt that she wore, moving it up slightly and slipping your fingers under the cotton material to brush your fingertips against her skin.

the feel of your cold fingers on her soft, delicate skin sends shivers down her spine, making her groan softly into your mouth. her lips part slightly, which gives you the opportunity to slide your tongue against her lip. she gives you access by opening her mouth a little more, letting you explore the new territory with your tongue. your tongues swirl against each other which earns small hums of delight as well as breathy noises from the two of you.

you’ve kissed tzuyu multiple times: on the cheek before classes, pecks in a more private setting, and on her hand as you walked her back home—but never like this.

the intimacy of kissing this much and for this long was new to the two of you. the pace of which you made out had increased as the two of you adapted to the overwhelming feeling of nervousness and added pleasure, it was new and the two of you grew fond of it quickly with each second that passed by.

the pace slows down as you slip your tongue back out, kissing her slowly on the lips again. you slide your hands back down to hold her gently by the waist and make the move to stand up, which has tzuyu wrapping her legs around your own waist.

you continue to kiss her even as you stand, turn around, and set her down—only parting when she’s fully set on your bed so you can look at her flushed cheeks and darkened pupils.

“i really like kissing you, tzuyu. it’s really nice.” you say breathlessly.

tzuyu laughs lightly at your adorable words. “i like it too.” she responds, sliding her hand through your hair and to the back of your neck. she rubs against the nape of your neck lightly and twists some of your hair around her finger before smiling again. “let’s do this more often.”

“yeah.” you say, laughing lightly before meeting her delicate lips again.

tzuyu smiles into the kiss, so do you, and it goes on again for a while—just you and tzuyu kissing and savoring each other with a new feeling that flows through your bodies.

you almost bite tzuyu’s lips when you hear a loud voice coming from downstairs. you flinch and pull away quickly, so does your girlfriend.

“y/n! we’re home! can you help bring the groceries inside?” your grandpa yells from downstairs.

“yeah! be there in a minute!” you respond, raising your voice.

you turn back to the girl under you and trapped between your hands, she’s giggling at you with her hands still cupping your face.

tzuyu gazes at you for a few seconds before speaking softly. “you should probably go help them out.”

“yeah.” you sigh, “one more?”

tzuyu nods happily and you press one more long, tender kiss on her lips.

“y/n!” your grandpa calls out again, and you almost fall on tzuyu from the sudden jolt of surprise (again).

[abslvr111]

blue banisters

cw. wlw (men dni), smut, fem!r, dom!els, sub!r, soft!ellie, no outbreak au, slight hair pulling, fingering (r!rec), cunnilingus (r!rec), wall sex 💀, titty sucking (r!rec), miss kink, this is jus me rambling abt ellie ngl 🤗

sum. you heir ellie to paint your banisters blue.

wc. 1.4k

it all started with an ad you saw while walking down the street, a local woman in your town just looking for odd jobs. it was perfect, you had been meaning to get someone to paint your banister, and you had a beautiful baby blue color you’d planned to use.

you dialed the number once you got home, it rang once, twice, a woman (you shortly found out to be named ellie) picked up, her voice was smooth and quips slick, she knew how to talk to people— she knew how to talk to women. your conversation with her made you wonder what she looked like, so you scheduled for her to come as soon as she could, you had nothing better to do, might as well meet your mystery woman as soon as possible.

she came just a few days later, pulling up your driveway in an old pickup truck, no doubt loud enough to alert you of her arrival. you watched her from your front porch, seen her hop out of the beat-up truck, slowly making her way towards you.

she wore a white tank top, one ready to get ruined by paint, it left her arms on display, her tattoo the last thing you noticed when her muscles were there, and a pair of worn-in blue jeans gathered with a brown leather belt around her hips. her short auburn hair pushed back behind her ears, intense green eyes trained on you, one married with an eyebrow scar, freckles decorated her soft cheeks, and her lips although slightly chapped they were still kissable, you decided.

she was gonna be nice to look at for the day, you thought.

you greeted her with a warm smile one she returned, the two of you talked about the job as you brought her through your home, you had a nice home, small, but fitting. it was cozy on the inside, with rugs and paintings on every wall and inch of floor, plants littered the complex cozily. it was quaint, nice, and well taken care of, the outside showed it the most, it was truly beautiful, with flowers growing everywhere to be seen, stones placed intricately to form a path to the quaint porch, a porch decorated with a nice wooden swing, the place was perfect, and she understood the pride you had in taking care of it.

she followed you obediently, standing just far enough from you to be able to watch your hips sway in the sundress you wore, the fabric hugged your figure nicely, and when you’d turn to look at her while you talked, she’d get an eye full of your cleavage at the bust of the dress, each time she tried her best to avoid staring to long.

you both made your way to the back porch, cans of blue paint lined up neatly on the dark wood, paint brushes and rollers in a plastic container, and everything else she needed to get the job done. the sweltering heat beat down on the both of you viciously, making sweat bead at ellie’s split brow, she shielded her eyes from the blaring sun with her hand. she looked even better with the sun shining on her, you felt your hand move towards your chest, toying with the necklace there, taking a sigh deeper than you meant to.

ellie noticed, watching your hand glide towards your chest, boobs rising and falling with your deep breath, you played with the pendent of your jewelry shyly, like you wanted to say something to her. but you were off before she could so much as mutter a word and so she was left to get started on her work.

in the meantime you occupied yourself in the kitchen making lemonade, it was peaceful, squeezing lemons and watching the world go by in your kitchen window, it also made for the perfect place to spy on ellie as she worked— an added perk.

you didn’t have to think about what you wanted to say to her yet, content with watching from afar. you looked at the way her wrist flicked with each movement of the paintbrush, the way she’d slightly bite into her bottom lip when concentrating, the way sweat highlighted her face perfectly and made brown strands of her hair cling to her forehead, it all made you swallow thickly, and hurry to finish the lemonade.

when it was done chilling in the fridge, you walked onto the balcony, the heavy door alerting ellie of your presence, she turned to face you from her crouching position, rasping out a, “hey, miss.”

miss, she started calling you that the moment she opened her mouth to speak to you and hasn’t let up since, not that you minded, it sounded nice rolling off her tongue— made a shiver roll down your spine.

“i made lemonade.” you beamed, she smiled back, her arms flexing when she moved to stand up straight. before taking the glass from you, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the bottom of her top, exposing her defined abdomen to your eyes, you probably looked like a deer in headlights, a sly smirk formed on her face as she took the glass from your loose grip.

that was the night ellie asked you on a date, covered in paint and sweat— you obviously said yes.

to say your first date with ellie went well was an understatement, once you were back from dinner, and your front door was shut behind you, the two of you were on each other before you could even blink.

one of her hands tangled through your hair, effectively pulling you closer to her, while her other hand groped at your waist, her tongue was quick as the two of you started kissing, desperate and needy. you felt yourself moaning at the sensation, the feeling of her strong grip on you and her tongue on yours, it made your mind fuzzy.

you felt her hand go for the zipper of the cute dress you wore, unzipping it easily, she pulled back from the kiss, in favor of pulling at the straps of your dress, just enough to watch the way your tits slightly bounced at the motion. she took no time in immediately taking them into her hands, bringing her face down to suck tentatively on one, she hummed against you as you whimpered for her.

she softly pushes you up against the wall, mouth still on your tit, she takes the rest of your dress off, the only thing keeping you modest being your panties. ellie pulls herself from your chest with a lewd pop, getting you to step out of your dress completely, and pushing the fabric aside before getting to her knees in front of you, she glances at you through glazed eyes.

“you alright there, miss?” she’s smirking now, your cheeks feel hotter than before, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“yeah,” your trying your best not to stutter, you don’t trust your voice the most right now, “it’s just, you look really hot.”

she laughs, it’s small, and now she’s pulling at the edges of your panties, they’re off your body quickly. two fingers are fast in circling your hole, drawing small moans from you, when she dips her fingers in, her other hand brings one of your legs to rest on her shoulder, and she traces your thigh with warm fingertips. your mind is muddled with thoughts of only ellie, and when you feel her warm mouth on you, her name is the only thing coming off your tongue.

she sighs against you, like this is the most relaxed she’s ever been, like she’s not currently got her face between your legs, and her tongue on your clit. your hand combed through her hair, bringing her pretty face closer to you, head buried between your thighs her tongue works in tandem with her fingers, both working fast on you.

your other hand found your tit, needing the soft flesh as ellie drew moans from you, softly you pulled at her brown locks, whining at her, wanting more of her. she gave in, tongue licking harder at you, slender fingers curling inside you, your thighs felt numb, fingers gripping her hair even tighter, you came whining her name like it was the only thing you knew. she took her fingers from you, messily sucking them clean, before getting up to her feet to kiss you, tongues touching you could taste yourself on her tongue, it makes you moan into her mouth, you could’ve stayed like that forever.

[beansprean]

Commission from @vampireshmampire for "The Honeymoon Suite" - pls read this fic it's so cute

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Shot from the bottom of a flight of switchback wooden stairs turning right, covered centrally by a dark green rug. The walls are half paneled in a pale beech wood below and light floral-patterned wallpaper above. Under the second flight on the right is a large leafy plant and a half-obscured brass sign that says “No Smoking, No Hexing, No Marking T-, No Bloodlet-, No Ectoplasm.” On the left wall going up the stairs is a small framed photo of two smiling women with red hair standing in front of a large house and holding a “sold” sign and two brass signs, one says “suited” and points up the stairs and the other marks the floor as “1”. Further up the wall are other kitschy decorations: a patterned hanging tapestry; a large painting of a dandelion against a full moon; a framed photo of two smiling redheaded women posed cheek to cheek in wedding dresses; a mounted bluegill fish labeled “Franklin III”; a decorative plate ringed with witchy runes and a red seeing eye in the center; a decorative plate ringed in yellow flowers, buds, and bees, with “The Bee and Bee” written in cursive in the center; a needlepoint that says “home is where the wine is”; a painting of a flowery valley at a low angle, sunset sky peeking through a heart-shaped lichen exit at the end; and a single window with orange spotted curtains and blacked out panes. In the corner of the landing between flights there is a small French accent chair with a teal leaf pattern and a Grecian vase filled with pink-budded branches. Nandor is sitting sprawled on the landing, one leg stretched across it and the other laid out on the stairs below. He is leaning against the left-hand wall, hair bunched up as if he had fallen and slid down. He is flushed purple and laughing hysterically, chin tipped up and mouth open wide, tears leaking from his eyes. One arm is laid down limply and the other is held up to grasp blindly at Guillermo’s elbow. Guillermo is standing between Nandor’s legs, hunched over with one hand braced on his knee as he cries laughing with equal hysteria, flushed to his ears and helplessly lifting one finger to his laughing mouth to try to shush them. They are clearly drunk as hell but having a great time.

2. The same drawing, zoomed in to Guillermo and Nandor. /end ID