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#not even in her sharpe box)
lacomandante · 7 months
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I'm staying with Assumpta for the next two weeks and I'm going through and archiving a lot of her old photos and scripts and not even half an hour into starting work I pull out a binder and what do I find?? A BIG treasure trove of photos of her as Teresa Moreno that have never been seen before!!!!
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vulpixelates · 2 months
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i love when an item disappears from our room mysteriously and then reappears days later with a bunch of little bite marks on it 😔😔
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mariocki · 26 days
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Deported (1950)
"Signor Smith, do all of you Americans treat women so, uh... so directly?"
"I wouldn't know. Maybe."
"But why? Have you so little time to spare?"
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drill-teeth-art · 1 year
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Wow! Here’s something incredibly personal.
This is Good Bi Gender. A comic I made to express some feelings I have about my gender. I don’t really have that much else to say about it. Here it is.
[Image Description: A digital comic made with sharp, angular abstract lines and only the colors white, blue, pink, and black. The featured character is all white, except for facial features and hair colors, which changes from panel to panel. The comic reads: Cover Panel: The text "Good Bi Gender", the words colored with the trans flag. It shows a glitchy person's face, half pink and half blue. Panel 1: White text reads: "Hello. My name is apparently irrelevant. And my pronouns are he/him and she/her. But you can't call me she/her. And here's why." Someone with a half-pink and half-blue shirt looks to the side. One eye is covered with hair, and the other eye is pink while the iris is blue.
Panel 2: The character sits happily, imagining facial hair and a masculine voice. "I don't want top surgery. I love my chest. And I dream about being on testosterone someday soon." The character looks at a phone, frowning. The phone shows the male symbol with an "X" through it. Text next to it reads: “People don't seem to think that the features I dream of are very pretty though... Or they think even worse of them than that…”
Panel 3: The character’s features are all pink, and sits in a blank frame. The character reaches over to a blue frame, frowning. “I don't like the animosity. I really despise it.” A photo of the character shows an all-blue frame and blue hair, with pink outlines and facial features. “To be a boy... I aspire to be one. I aspire to be masculine in all its handsomeness. All its prettiness.” Panel 4: The character sits in an all blue panel, but reaches back out to the pink panel. “And I'm still a girl too. I was so excited to have both. To love both. To have handsome femininity. Beautiful masculinity.” The frames break and connect, and pink and blue swirl together. The character smiles in between the frames, with one pink eye and one blue eye. “So excited. And yet I get asked…”
Panel 5: Two hands hold out two different pills to the character, one blue and one pink. They ask “Male? or Female?” using the male and female symbols.The character, facial features an array of pink and blue, looks between the two hands, distressed. “It's both! I'm both! They're not opposites. Not narrow boxes. I say I'm both despite the insistence that I can't be. And I know what I look like. I know I look like a girl to most. I know that if I say people can call me she, that's all I will get from most. Because it's "easier". It "makes more sense". To have my masculinity, I am often forced to be unflinching in it and it alone. To never use she. Because if I don't, I will never get to have he.” [The words "she" and "he" are italicized.] Panel 6: Text reads: “I'm still very happy to be so comfortable in my identity. To know, despite all that, that I am indeed a boy and a girl and both. But you know. Telling people to only use he/him for me. Guarding my masculinity all just to have it. All at the expense of the part of me who is happily and unashamedly a girl.” The character cries from one pink eye, the other hidden. The character holds a pink girl in a sea of blue, the girl crying out. In the midst of the blue, text reads: “Well, it fucking breaks her heart.” End ID]
Edit: @starberry-skies wrote an ID for the comic, so I added it to the og post with its permission!
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sensitivegoblin · 7 months
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Unsafe vent
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sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months
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MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin
Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
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Ghost
The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.
He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.
But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.
He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”
He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.
He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.
“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.
“I’ll take care of you.”
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König
“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.
“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”
You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.
“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”
König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.
“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.
“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.
“Mean.”
He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.
“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.
“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”
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Soap
“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.
Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.
Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.
From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.
“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”
He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.
His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.
His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.
“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”
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Valeria
Corruption kink to the MAX
Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.
And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.
Alters her brain chemistry permanently.
There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.
So why shouldn’t she own you, too?
Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.
She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.
But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.
“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”
Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.
“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”
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Price
Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.
But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.
In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.
Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.
The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.
“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.
“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.
“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”
He’s angling for something. His face says it all.
He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.
His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.
“Probably looking for someone with experience.”
He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a  heavy stare.
“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.
“I’ve got plenty to spare.”
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Horangi
You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.
“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”
He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.
Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.
Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.
He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.
You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.
How much he’s trying to restrain himself.
“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.
“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.
“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”
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Alejandro
“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.
“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”
Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.
God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.
“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”
Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.
He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.
His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.
“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”
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Rodolfo
“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.
“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”
In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.
Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.
But he sees his chance. And he takes it.
“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”
His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a  man in such a brutal line of work.
Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.
Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.
That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…
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Graves
“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”
Graves sure has a way with words.
For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.
He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.
“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.
“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”
He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.
He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.
“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.
“And last.”
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Gaz
Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.
See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.
He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.
He remembers what Soap taught him, though.
Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.
Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.
“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”
He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !
At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.
“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”
Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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tender-rosiey · 5 months
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how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o
nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!
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when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.
you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.
“do you have your lunch box?”
“yup!”
he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”
your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”
a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”
you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”
“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.
you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.
sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”
you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”
you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”
“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.
your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”
he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”
you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.
you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”
“I love you too, mama!”
of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.
sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.
anyway, back to the present.
your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.
she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.
he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.
of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.
the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.
he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”
she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”
he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”
“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”
sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.
that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.
but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.
she whines, “papa, my hair!”
he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.
he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."
your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.
her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.
he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”
“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!
looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”
“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.
“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”
sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.
maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.
“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”
your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”
“excited!”
“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.
she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”
you grin, “did he now?”
he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.
and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”
“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.
even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.
sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”
his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.
he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”
you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”
“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.
he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”
“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”
“I figured."
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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chaoticace2005 · 3 months
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Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:
1. No drugs.
2. No fights.
3. No pranks.
4. No problematic language.
5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)
6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.
7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.
8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)
9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day
10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel
11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.
12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.
13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.
14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS
15. NO EATING PEOPLE
16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.
17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?
18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!
19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)
20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.
21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”
22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.
23. NO DEALS ALASTOR
24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.
25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.
26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.
27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)
28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.
29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?
30. No building weapons/war machines.
31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)
32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)
33. Stop touching people ANGEL.
34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.
35. Respect boundaries.
36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.
36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.
37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”
38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.
39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.
40. NO EXPLOSIONS!
41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.
42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.
43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)
44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX
45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!
46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR
47. Don’t die.
48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.
49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!
50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP
51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!
52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”
53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.
54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.
55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.
56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.
57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)
58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”
59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.
60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.
61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.
62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.
63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.
64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.
65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.
66. Therapy. Everyone.
67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!
68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.
69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.
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ambrosiagoldfish · 4 months
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I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
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aweina · 7 months
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౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt
tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.
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mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.
you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.
then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.
it worked, but only for a few days.
now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.
what a total ass.
all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.
in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.
yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.
you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?
“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.
“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.
to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.
but now it was that time.
it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.
mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.
“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.
he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.
“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.
blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.
then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.
“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.
the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.
gosh, he’s too loud.
you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.
“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.
mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.
a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.
“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”
he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.
“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.
mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.
his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.
your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.
he’s so close, he can feel it.
“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.
you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.
this was a great plan after all.
with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.
the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.
the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.
still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.
“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.
you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.
“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.
in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.
“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.
“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.
“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.
the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.
“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.
“no.”
it was an attempt.
he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.
“okay.”
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© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
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tuesday in the park (a.d.)
pairing: divorced!art x reader
synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.
warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk
notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!
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City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.
Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.
Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…
And then suddenly… another pattern.
A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.
You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.
It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!
But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.
You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?” 
“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.
“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”
“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”
The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”
“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile.  And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”
“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.
“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.
The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”
“Come on, Daddy…” 
“No way.”
“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,
“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”
The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too. 
“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”
He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.
He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”
You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.
He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”
It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.
He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”
You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.
(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)
“Thanks, um…” he trails off. 
You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.
He nods. “I’m Art.”
He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,
“Nice to meet you, Art.”
He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved. 
“So what brings you out here?”
“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”
“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”
He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”
And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”
You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”
“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”
The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an interpreter.”
His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”
“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.
“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”
“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”
“But not today?”
You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”
“Fuck.”
“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.
Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”
You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”
He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”
“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”
Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.
You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”
But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.
Oh.
You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”
Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”
There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…
“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered. 
If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.
“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”
“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”
The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.
Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”
“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.
“Oh! Um…”
And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”
Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter,  “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.
“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”
“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.
The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”
You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”
He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.
Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.
“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.
“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.
His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.
“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”
“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”
She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.
1K notes · View notes
starboyshoyo · 1 year
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Courting, Pining, or Flirting? 
Characters: All NRC students x reader (seperately)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Genre: fluff
Do the NRC boys court you, pine for you, or flirt with you? 
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HEARTSLABYUL
Riddle Rosehearts will do his best in courting you. Raised to be strict and formal, he has virtually no idea of what love is, or how to express it. The best he got was the fairytales of princesses and knights in his childhood. So he’ll follow their lead to the best of his ability. Riddle will give you his blazer jacket, and take your arm in his when navigating crowded hallways- he’ll even bow to you when saying goodnight, placing a tender kiss on your hand. Riddle might need a bit of a confidence boost before he performs a moonlight soliloquy under your balcony, though. 
Ace Trappola, unsurprisingly, enjoys flirting with you. What can he say, he’s a fun-loving guy! That extends to all parts of his life, including you. When the two of you are watching movies on his laptop in Ramshackle Dorm, he’ll tug the blanket away, forcing you to cuddle up to him for warmth. One day in class, a crumpled paper ball will hit you on the shoulder, reading: DO YOU LIKE ME? YES/NO ;) It’s childish, but somehow endearing.
Deuce Spade, ever the gentleman, will try (keyword: try) his best in courting you. His mom didn’t raise a brat! Listening to her advice, he’ll buy you flowers, ask you out on the weekends, and drape his jacket over your shoulders when you get cold. It’s a lot less smooth than it sounds, though. He’ll be a blushing, stuttering mess the entire time and accidentally spill his plans to you before he can execute them. Then he’ll apologize and spill even more of his plans- and alas, the cycle continues. 
Trey Clover is surprisingly good at flirting! Trey is confident in his ability to charm people. Even the most uptight of Prefects tend to relax a little around him. Of course, the delicious handmade pastries he often brings along with him are just a bonus. They’re an easy way to strike up a conversation with you, getting you to spill more and more about yourself to him. He’s comfortable to talk to, isn’t he? Oh, is that baked good your favorite? Expect a box of them to show up on your desk within the next week, along with a coy little note: Sweets for the sweet. 
Cater Diamond, on the surface, is definitely into flirting. He chases anything and everything within a fifty-meter radius of himself, and giving his posts on Magicam so much as a comment will result in a Hey cutie ;) popping up in your DM notifications at 1 AM. But with a person that Cater truly loves, face to face, he won’t do anything more than stay by your side as a supportive friend, pining from afar. He’s afraid of messing this up. Do you even see him that way? Please say you do. 
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SAVANACLAW
Leona Kingscholar does all three, in the order of pining, courting, and flirting. Hear me out: Leona pines, but not in a hopeless way. Instead, he just figures that he doesn’t have the time or emotional investment for a relationship. But once the feelings began to grow, Leona gets desperate. He doesn’t want opportunities to slip through his fingers without doing anything. So he’ll begin subtly hanging out with you more, until it reaches the courting stage. At that point, he becomes visibly softer and less harsh around you. He’ll only really be comfortable flirting and being playful with you once you’re in an established relationship, not before. 
Ruggie Bucchi is into casual flirting- Well, he’s into it until he realizes he’s fallen so hard that he can’t climb back out. It’s all fun and games to him at first. Oh, you want to pet his ears? Maybe trading that cookie of yours from the lunch buffet would be suitable collateral. You think he looks good in the PE uniform? There’s more where that came from. Want him to accompany you on a late-night errand? Of course! He loves spending time with you- Wait, when did that happen? 
Jack Howl follows his sharp instincts on everything, and every sign is pointing at him courting you like a true gentleman. He knows he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got no problem cleaning his act up for you. Putting on a suit and tie and using a bit of gel in his hair and around his ears is a small price to pay for your affection. He’s not particularly shy about showing you he has feelings for you, but outright telling you might take a bit more time and effort.
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OCTAVINELLE
Azul Ashengrotto is painfully, unequivocally deep in pining for you. There’s just no way around it is there? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to crawl into his tako pot and hide when you’re around. You’re on his mind every second of every day, and he lays in bed every night wondering if you see him the same way. Is he handsome to you? Is he smart? He wants to hold you so bad but he won’t do it until you tell him yes, I like you too, first.
Jade Leech, ever the calm, collected one, excels at smooth flirting. He just knows you like him as much as he likes you, and he’s not afraid to point it out. It’s not like you’re subtle about it either- with the way you sit in a corner booth of Mostro Lounge for hours, just to be able to talk with him after-hours over leftover pastries and tea. You wouldn’t mind if he did this with you more often, would you? 
Floyd Leech has his unique way of flirting, just like everything else in his life. You’re just so exciting, Shrimpy! Won’t you tell him a little more about your day? Even just the little things, like how many pages of notes you took in History of Magic class or an answer to a test question or two- he’s kidding, he’s kidding! All jokes aside, Floyd truly does enjoy your company and the ways you spice up his life. 
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SCARABIA
Kalim Al-Asim does none of the three, surprisingly. He’s so bright it might not even occur to you that he’s interested until you’re already three layers deep. He’s always been a friendly person, so when he begins inviting you to hang out all the time, you wouldn’t give it a second thought. It’s only when you notice him trying to do things for you rather than just with you do you realize his feelings might run a little deeper than just friendship. He tries to be chivalrous, but it usually just comes off as him playing at being your prince charming. The closest you could get to describing what Kalim does is playful, friendly courting- albeit a very unconventional form of it. 
Jamil Viper is used to never getting what he wants. Somewhere along the line he stopped trying. So when you step into his life, shining but not blinding like Kalim, he hesitates. Is he ready to take such a risk? All he knows for sure is that he wants you in his life… someday. So quietly, in between classes and in the hallways, he’ll be pining for you from afar- hoping you’ll make the first move, so that he won’t have to worry about Kalim whisking you away.
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POMEFIORE
Vil Schoenheit thinks he has never met someone so beautiful before. You might even be half as beautiful as he is! It’s a huge compliment coming from someone like him. You’re also half as smart, almost as strong, and maybe he’d consider taking you out for lunch- but don’t get it twisted! He’s doing this out of the goodness of his heart. (He likes you. He really likes you. Please date him.) It’s not very good flirting, but he’s trying his best.
Rook Hunt is flamboyant and genuine in everything he does, which includes flirting with you, his longtime crush. You have the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen! Would you mind if he admired it for a while? He’ll brag about you to everyone around him, much to the irritation of Vil, who finds it offensive that his biggest supporter has ‘betrayed’ him for another. Rook doesn’t care, though. If you so pleased, he’d be more than happy to walk you to your next class. Anything to bask in your unmatched beauty just a few seconds longer. 
Epel Felmier is good at flirting, and he’s confident about it too! A rough and tumble farm boy like him needs a cute thing on his arm to show off, doesn’t he? Don’t laugh at him- he’s trying to impress you. He’ll do anything he can to prove to you that he’s a strong, capable person and your perfect match. Let him carry your books, and serve you in the cafeteria buffet line. When you share a snack together, he’ll lean just a bit too close, letting his cheek brush against yours before pulling away. Come on, look him in the eyes! Or are you too shy~
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IGNIHYDE
Idia Shroud has never met you in real life. You’ve never seen his face, but he’s seen yours through the camera of his tablet at housewarden meetings. Maybe it’s the pent up stress speaking, but wow, you’re way out of his league. Best to make casual conversation and repress his pining over a game of online chess, lest he screw it all up in real life. 
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DIASOMNIA
Malleus Draconia is a lonely soul who knows little more than a life of isolation. When you walk into his life, unafraid of the twisted black crown that sits on his head or the ominous aura that seems to surround him, he has to wonder if after all these years he’s finally found his soulmate. Immediately, he wants to make plans to see you every day, to listen to you ramble about anything and everything beyond the briar walls around his castle. Stay a while and talk with him, won’t you? Malleus is the true definition of patience and indulgence when he’s courting you. 
Lilia Vanrouge isn’t one for mere high school relationships. He’s a father and a general! He’s got a teenager to raise and armies to lead, on top the infamously heavy homework load from NRC classes. You’d have to be really important to him to find a place in his ancient heart. Sure, he’ll have his fun with flirting and all, but no one can really expect a thousand-year old fae to fall in love… right?
Sebek Zigvolt is shocked, no pun intended. There’s no way a fae like himself has fallen for a mere human! No, he won’t accept it. Sebek will turn in somersaults and bend over backwards to make any excuse on why he is not in love with you, he’s just a bit agitated today! Ironically, he makes things harder for himself with this mindset, condemning himself to pining for you from afar. 
Silver, like his name, wants to be your knight in shining armor- he’s just not quite sure how to go about it yet. He supposes he’ll ask for your parents’ permission to begin courting you, first. That’s the tradition in the Valley of Thorns after all. But when Lilia points out that it’s a bit old-fashioned, he’ll simply agree and go along with whatever terrible plans the rest of Diasomnia comes up with next. Be prepared to be barraged with an awful yet endearing mix of pick-up lines, cheesy love letters, and classic romance songs that this quartet comes up with in their free time. The best thing? Silver himself won’t even be awake for half of it. 
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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nejiverse · 1 year
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‘FAMILY’ REUNION
Douma, Akaza, Kokushibo
In which Y/n sees everyone again after a long time. Based on the scene in the infinity castle. Fem! Reader
cw: nothing really, our boys here have a soft spot for y/n, suggestive if you squint really hard, reader is upper rank 2 and everyone else is pushed down a rank except for Kokushibo
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850 words
"Where's my Y/n-chan~", Douma whined, looking around the infinity castle.
"Your Y/n?", Akaza clicked his tongue. "She doesn't even like you".
Gyokko nodded to the corner. "She's over there taking a damn nap", he shook his head at her hopelessness. "Upper rank two my ass".
Douma looked at where Gyokko was nodding towards where he saw Y/n, who was sleeping in a fetal position with her hands tucked against her chest.
Douma snickered with a hand up to his mouth. "I know what'll wake her up!".
The blondie approached her and squatted down.
His hand gripped her jaw, gently squeezing her cheeks which caused her mouth to fall open.
He proceeded use his index and middle finger to prod her mouth open before sliding them into her mouth.
Douma giggled as Y/n furrowed her brow as he stuck them all the way to the back of her mouth.
Once Y/n felt his sharp nails graze her throat, he eyes fell wide open, only to be met with Douma's sultry smirk that she knew all to well flashing down at her.
Y/n bit down hard on his two fingers. Really hard. To the point where she bit them off.
"Ouch Y/nn!", Douma frowned albeit his fingers regenerating immediately after.
Y/n sat up and let out a yawn before observing her surroundings. Everyone was here now except Muzan. She stretched her arms up, making her kimono fall off her shoulders a bit.
"You're so mean to me!", Douma sulked.
"Oh my sincerest apologies lord Douma!", she exclaimed, standing up and clasping her two hands together. "I'm not sure what came over me, but I should know my place", she inched towards the man, her chest against his and her eyes locked on his own, a pleading look plastered on her face while Douma looked down at her in amusement.
"I'd do anything for your forgiveness!", a grin slowly grew on her lips as she relaxed her eyebrows. "...Is what you would've wanted me to say, right?".
She laughed and backed away from him, the fact that his smug look was still plastered on his face annoyed her. "I'll leave that to your cult members".
Douma narrowed his eyes. "Got quite a mouth on you, don't you? Someone should teach you what to do with it".
Gyokko scoffed. "I can't even tell if they're flirting or arguing".
Y/n decided it was best to ignore Douma's comment and her eyes brightened upon seeing Akaza.
She enveloped him into a hug that made him unsteady on his feet, a blush immediately coating the apples of his cheeks.
"Akaza! Long time no see”.
Douma folded his arms childishly as Akaza looked at him with an overconfident, smug look as he spat his tongue out. Everyone knew Akaza was her favourite.
Despite this, poor Akaza was still weak to the touch of any woman.
“Oh yeah, I got you a present”, Y/n reached into her kimono, Akaza averting his gaze at anything else he could find.
She lifted his arm from his side and opened up his palm, placing the box into his hand.
“Open it! Open it!”.
When he did just that, he blinked at her. It was a hairpin.
“Are you sure this is for me?”, he sweatdropped.
“Of course it is! It goes with your hair colour so I got it for you”, she took it out of the box and stuck it in his hair.
Akaza smiled sweetly moving to stand behind her smaller figure. He took the hairpin out of his hair and put it in hers.
“I appreciate it but I believe it’ll look better on you”.
“Aw but lord Akaza, it suits you! It really brought out your eyes too~”, Douma burst out into laughter, holding his stomach.
“Don’t piss me off”, Akaza seethed between his clenched teeth. Suddenly, Douma’s bottom part of his face was destroyed by Akaza’s fist.
Douma smiled as his face regenerated. “Whoa! That was some punch! A bit stronger than before, would you say, lord Akaza?”.
*splat*
The same fist Akaza used to hit Douma was severed by Kokushibo.
“Akaza”, he spoke. “You always go too far”.
“lord Kokushibo!”, Y/n bounced happily around him.
Kokushibo turned his head to her and brought his hands up to her chest, fixing her kimono so that it was up over her shoulders again.
“You shouldn’t let your kimono slip down like that, you’re a lady”.
She placed her hands on her hips. “Alright dad”, she mocked before smiling again.
“Aw it’s like a family reunion seeing all of you again!”.
“W-where have you been all this time?”, Hantengu asked.
Y/n hopped onto Kokushibo’s shoulders, patting his head which took the demon’s by surprise at the fact that he was allowing it.
“It’s a secret”, she brought a finger up to her lips.
It was evident that Muzan had arrived when Kokushibo lifted Y/n down and teleported back to where he was sitting originally.
“Family reunion over!”.
Masterlist :)
a/n: also the last episode was a damn masterpiece, as an anime only for demon slayer i was genuinely scared nezuko was gonna die 😭
8K notes · View notes
trendywaifus · 5 months
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↳ just wanna see my baby right outside my door!
you think you’d be alone this christmas but your girlfriend surprises you.
↳ featuring—arlecchino, kafka, shenhe, jingliu
cw: thigh riding, vaginal penetration, teasing, pet names, degradation (slut is used on kafka’s part, soft alre ( mentions of smut towards the end), strap use, kitchen sex, brat taming, i was afraid of making the fic too long so i stupidly rushed it towards the end, sorry, ( ill fix things up later.)
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arlecchino was a very busy woman—which you knew from the very beginning of course. after all, she was a fatui habringer, owns an orphanage, and the list goes on. when arlecchino informed you about the plans and meetings she had during christmas eve and christmas day a few days prior, a bitter taste sits on your tongue. nevertheless, you mustered up a tight–lipped smile which your lover did not ignore and provided you words of sweet comfort and kisses.
fast forward to christmas day, you’re sitting alone in your living room, sipping on lukewarm chocolate cocoa that you didn’t really have any interest drinking. there was a bunch of presents stacked under the tree and it was mostly for her and the kids. you sighed dejectedly, placing the mug down with a frown on your face. stomach churning, tears prick your eyes, and you were quick to rub them away with your palm. perhaps you should sleep early to get rid of this awful feeling of loneliness.
a few soft, yet firm knocks at the door breaks the depressing silence. puzzled, you stand up from the couch and walked over towards the door. upon opening it, your eyes widen to see your lover standing patiently in front of you along with two fatui soldiers behind her carrying armfuls of presents. ignoring the shocked expression on your face, she gives you a gentle smile and delicately takes your hand in hers before bringing it up to her lips. “ good evening and merry christmas, my love. i apologize for not informing you about the chances of my early arrival but i wanted it to be a surprise. may we come in? “ arlecchino asks, kissing your knuckles.
you meekly nod, pulling away to step aside from the door for arlecchino and the two men to come in. “ you two, please set the presents by the christmas tree, i would greatly appreciate it. “ she requests, pointing over to the corner where the christmas tree sits; they complied with silent nods. sharp onyx eyes peers over at the boxes of gifts under the tree. she then turns over to you, her gaze softening. “ dear, are those gifts prepared for me? “
“ yes, and for the kids. “ you answered quietly. arlecchino scans your face for a short moment, noticing the redness around the corner of your eyes and the wrinkles between your brows.
“ men. “
“ yes, my lady? “ the two soldiers answered in sync.
“ take all of the gifts from under the tree and bring them to the hearth, you mustn’t drop them or damage them, do you understand? “ the sudden sternness in her voice made them flinch.
“ o-of couse, my lady! “
they quickly gathered all of the presents from under the tree. despite there being loads of them, they were able to fit all of the gifts in their arms and scramble out the door. alrechinno sighs, closing the door behind the two men and locked it. “ um, will they manage? although the trip isn’t that long, there are quite a lot of presents to carry. “
“ they better manage. that is their punishment for their incompetence. those two fools caused me a few unwanted inconveniences recently. “ she almost growled. arlecchino deeply sighs to recompose herself and gingerly lures you in by the forearm, bringing you into her arms. “ but i digress,“ she lifts her palm to your cheek and caressed the redden skin under your eye with her thumb. “ i made you cry, didn’t i, dove? “ you could hear the clear disappointment in her voice.
“ no alre, it was just. .i didn’t think you’d come, that’s all. . “ you trailed off, averting your gaze away from arlecchino’s. she lifts your chin up with a finger to guide your eyes back to hers. she leans in to kiss your cheekbone. “ i understand. i deeply apologize for making you wait and think such a thing. i promise that next year will be different. “ she whispered, brushing her lips against yours. a sense of warmth washes over you, getting rid of the bitter feeling of loneliness you previously had.
“ now that i’m here, allow me to make it up to you, dove. “ arlecchino locks her soft lips with yours in a slow, sensual kiss. you kissed back, wrapping your arms around her neck, threading your fingers in her silk snow hair. she holds you closer, running a delicate hand down your back. after a few moments, arlechinno breaks the kiss. “ dear, do you want to open your presents now? “ she asks warmly, looking down at you; red x—shaped pupils brimming with nothing but unadulterated infatuation and loyalty. the other fatui habringers say arlecchino is a wolf in sheep’s clothing—that her calm and stoic personality is nothing but a facade, and everything she does is calculated. perhaps that maybe true, but after witnessing this, you truly believe that even she is capable of love.
you held her tighter and kissed the corner of her mouth. “ no, not now. i just want you. “ arlecchino chuckled huskily, turning her head a bit to peck your lips. “ as you wish, dove. let’s transition to the couch, shall we? “ she releases you from her hold and ushers you over to the couch. she sits down, pulls you down onto her lap, and settles her inky hands on your waist. you wasted no time to press your lips against hers. she hums into the kiss, tilting her head to slot her lips between yours. your hands tugged the coat from her shoulders, causing it to pool at her arms.
“ you’re quite impatient. “ arlecchino husks as your hands skins down her bare arms, pushing the jacket further down until it’s hitting her elbows. you dragged your parted lips down her chin and neck, leaving behind open mouth kisses. her breath hitches, desire sparks within her. “ could you blame me, arle? “ you muttered against her pale skin.
suddenly, arlecchino positions her thigh against your clothed heat, causing you to gasp. “ that’s fine. if you’re going to be impatient, so will i. “ she adjusts her hands on your hips and rocked them back and forth. you moaned as your clit roughly drags against the cotton fabric of your panties and her pants. her narrowed eyes looks you up and down, itching to see the bare skin under your nightwear. “ hm, although, getting off from my thigh will do for now. i maybe impatient, but i’m not that much in a hurry to reduce you into a crying mess.”
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“ merry christmas, darling~ “ kafka purrs in your ear, sliding the fat, plastic cockhead into your weeping pussy, stretching out your tight walls. her hands gripped your hips as she pushes her cock deeper into your hole. “ i-it’s soo big. “ you cried out, holding onto her back for dear life. she chuckles, dipping down to kiss away the fat tears rolling down your cheeks. kafka made you wait all christmas night, just to show up at your door with several expensive presents, which also included a custom-made strap that matched the color and design of her gloves. the fact that it was almost three inches bigger than the regular sizes she keeps, has you writhing in pleasure.
“ mhm, i know. i knew one of my special little christmas presents would make you cry tears of joy.” she grins roguishly, amethyst eyes twinkling with amusement. you hissed at her, wanting to smack, better yet, fuck that grin off that pretty face of hers. “ you’re such a little shit, kaf—ka! “ you yelped as she slides her length out of your pussy only to slam it right back in. “ not nice, you naughty girl. “ kafka playfully croons, prodding her fingers in between your bruised lips to stop your potty mouth.
“ maybe i should of stuffed your mouth with my cock first, huh? “ she muses, pounding into your pussy with sharp thrusts. you let out a muffled, broken moan as her tip grazes your cervix. your mind becomes forcefully deprived of rational thoughts as she fucks away your sanity. nothing but strangled moans and groans left your lips which were music to the stellaron hunter’s ears.
she whistles, “ atta girl. now those are the sounds that i wanna hear. “
you weakly glared up at her, digging your nails into her skin as a poor attempt to make her flinch. she shown no reaction, instead, she laughs and lifts one of your legs up, propping it over her shoulder. “ still such a feisty little thing, aren’t you? don’t worry, i’m going to fuck you until i turn you into my obedient slut. “ her cock reenters your seeping cunt in a different angle that made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head.
kafka rolls her hips, pushing her cock up against a sweet spot, causing you to nearly scream in pleasure. “ mmh, that was a good one baby doll. “ she litters your face with kisses, messily smearing your skin with her lipstick. she quickens her pace, rutting you into the mattress. the delicious noise of your slick covered walls swallowing kafka’s cock with every thrust made her own pussy flutter over nothing.
by now, you’re babbling and drooling with kafka’s digits still stuffed in your mouth; sweaty face covered in lipstick. she licks her lips at the messy yet beautiful sight below her.
“ absolutely wonderful, darling. this the best present i could ever have. “
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you could never be mad at shenhe for showing up at your home near the end of christmas day with just one small gift in her hand. she’s ignorant to many mortal holidays and traditions so you’re very patient with her. she handed you the little box with a shy smile on her face and explained to you that inside is a charm for fending off evil spirits and bad luck. shenhe had a little trouble with finding a gift for you which is why she was pretty late. thanks to cloud retainer and ganyu, she was able to get you the charm and bless it.
of course you also had some gifts made for shenhe, but it wouldn’t hurt to show her your appreciation first.
“ so pretty. “ you cooed, pushing back the sliver white fringes from her beautiful eyes. your hand snakes under the opening of her hip window, rubbing the toned skin underneath. her stomach flexes as your warm hand travels down and palms her heat. she sharply sucks air between her teeth, looking over at you with hazy needy eyes. “ you don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart. “ you mumbled, delving down to kiss her apple cheeks, “ let me take care of you—relax. “
you played with her clit, rubbing and grinding against the small bundle of nerves with your palm in a slow, circular motion. shenhe groans, weakly grabbing your wrist but made no attempt to stop you. you shift down towards her chest area and lifted the flap piece up, revealing her hardened nipples poking out from the black, stretchy fabric. you wrapped your warm mouth around one of the perky buds through the cloth and swirled your tongue. ��� feels. .good. “ she breathed, closing her eyes as she focuses on your fingers stroking her puffy folds and your tongue teasing her nipple.
her back arches as the tip of your ring and index finger teases her entrance. “ i know a strong girl like yourself can take two at a time without prep. “ you chuckled, slowly easing your fingers inside her pussy. a throaty moan leaves her lips. she can feel your nails drag against her walls, stretching her out. “ do you want me to let you adjust or start moving? i’m fine with whatever, sweets. “
“ m-move. “ she answers without a second thought.
you slide further inside until you were knuckles deep. she lets out a soft moan as you slowly thrust your fingers into her cunt while nibbling and tugging at her other sensitive bud. your drool leaves a growing dark patch on the fabric. desperation washes over shenhe like a wave as you continued to finger her and focus your attention on her clothed breasts. “ m-more. .” she groans, looking down at you with half–lidded eyes.
“ anything for you, sweetheart. “ you moved back up to her level and sealed your lips with hers. when you curl your fingers into a spongy patch, shenhe’s self control slips.
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“ surprise, surprise~ “
a familiar, soft voice whispers in your ear as a silk blindfold covers your eyes. a pair of hands ghosts over your sides and cool breath fans against the back of your neck. a chill runs down your spine. “ jingliu?” you called out, slightly nervous. you didn’t feel her presence in the kitchen or even hear her enter your home. though, you didn’t want to question it too much since she’s a master swordsman who’s always light on her feet. but you can’t lie and say she doesn’t scare you sometimes with her quiet footsteps.
“ mhm. “ jingliu hums, resting her chin on your shoulder. “ i didn’t expect you to come home so late but merry christmas. can i ask why you’ve blindfolded me? “ her hands settles at your hips, cool lips grazes your ear.
“ merely for my enjoyment, dar–ling~ i’m here to claim my present. “ she nibbles and lightly tugs on your earlobe. you swallowed thickly, holding back a soft moan as she grinds her hips into your ass, sandwiching you between her and the kitchen counter. “ aeons, i can’t even make hot cocoa without you randomly pouncing on me. “ you murmured. but, you’re still quite happy to see her since she has the tendency to wander about for days at a time.
her hand slips under the waistband of your pajamas and panties. deft, slender fingers rub your folds, causing you to squirm. “ i’m going to take you right here. ” jingliu promises, you could hear the mischievous smile in her voice. unable to see because of the blindfold, you desperately grasp for the edge of the counter as she mercilessly plays with your clit and leaves cool kisses along your shoulder blade.
you gasped as her finger circled your entrance and enters inside. “ ah—jingliuu. .” you whined, hunching over the counter as she ruthlessly fingers your pussy without any time for you to adjust. “ i haven’t even added in two fingers yet—take it. “ jingliu growls. you could feel her finger stretch you apart, nails barely scratching the sweet spot you’re utterly weak to. “ n-not so fast! “ you hissed, knees growing weak from her pace.
jingliu ignores your plea and instead, adds another finger, erupting a loud moan from your throat. she sucks the skin on the side of your neck, leaving behind a red blotch. your walls clamps around her fingers, jingliu nearly moans at the feeling. “ you’re squeezing my fingers so tight, i cannot wait to feel you do the same to my tongue. “
jingliu finally adds in the third finger, stretching your hole even further. you swear you could see stars popping into your teary vision.
2K notes · View notes
headspace-hotel · 9 months
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There, in the sunlit forest on a high ridgeline, was a tree I had never seen before.
I spend a lot of time looking at trees. I know my beech, sourwood, tulip poplar, sassafras and shagbark hickory. Appalachian forests have such a diverse tree community that for those who grew up in or around the ancient mountains, forests in other places feel curiously simple and flat.
Oaks: red, white, black, bur, scarlet, post, overcup, pin, chestnut, willow, chinkapin, and likely a few others I forgot. Shellbark, shagbark and pignut hickories. Sweetgum, serviceberry, hackberry, sycamore, holly, black walnut, white walnut, persimmon, Eastern redcedar, sugar maple, red maple, silver maple, striped maple, boxelder maple, black locust, stewartia, silverbell, Kentucky yellowwood, blackgum, black cherry, cucumber magnolia, umbrella magnolia, big-leaf magnolia, white pine, scrub pine, Eastern hemlock, redbud, flowering dogwood, yellow buckeye, white ash, witch hazel, pawpaw, linden, hornbeam, and I could continue, but y'all would never get free!
And yet, this tree is different.
We gather around the tree as though surrounding the feet of a prophet. Among the couple dozen of us, only a few are much younger than forty. Even one of the younger men, who smiles approvingly and compliments my sharp eye when I identify herbs along the trail, has gray streaking his beard. One older gentleman scales the steep ridge slowly, relying on a cane for support.
The older folks talk to us young folks with enthusiasm. They brighten when we can call plants and trees by name and list their virtues and importance. "You're right! That's Smilax." "Good eye!" "Do you know what this is?—Yes, Eupatorium, that's a pollinator's paradise." "Are you planning to study botany?"
The tree we have come to see is not like the tall and pillar-like oaks that surround us. It is still young, barely the diameter of a fence post. Its bark is gray and forms broad stripes like rivulets of water down smooth rock. Its smooth leaves are long, with thin pointed teeth along their edges. Some of the group carefully examine the bark down to the ground, but the tree is healthy and flourishing, for now.
This tree is among the last of its kind.
The wood of the American Chestnut was once used to craft both cradles and coffins, and thus it was known as the "cradle-to-grave tree." The tree that would hold you in entering this world and in leaving it would also sustain your body throughout your life: each tree produced a hundred pounds of edible nuts every winter, feeding humans and all the other creatures of the mountains. In the Appalachian Mountains, massive chestnut trees formed a third of the overstory of the forest, sometimes growing larger than six feet in diameter.
They are a keystone species, and this is my first time seeing one alive in the wild.
It's a sad story. But I have to tell you so you will understand.
At the turn of the 20th century, the chestnut trees of Appalachia were fundamental to life in this ecosystem, but something sinister had taken hold, accidentally imported from Asia. Cryphonectria parasitica is a pathogenic fungus that infects chestnut trees. It co-evolved with the Chinese chestnut, and therefore the Chinese chestnut is not bothered much by the fungus.
The American chestnut, unlike its Chinese sister, had no resistance whatsoever.
They showed us slides with photos of trees infected with the chestnut blight earlier. It looks like sickly orange insulation foam oozing through the bark of the trees. It looks like that orange powder that comes in boxes of Kraft mac and cheese. It looks wrong. It means death.
The chestnut plague was one of the worst ecological disasters ever to occur in this place—which is saying something. And almost no one is alive who remembers it. By the end of the 1940's, by the time my grandparents were born, approximately three to four billion American chestnut trees were dead.
The Queen of the Forest was functionally extinct. With her, at least seven moth species dependent on her as a host plant were lost forever, and no one knows how much else. She is a keystone species, and when the keystone that holds a structure in place is removed, everything falls.
Appalachia is still falling.
Now, in some places, mostly-dead trees tried to put up new sprouts. It was only a matter of time for those lingering sprouts of life.
But life, however weak, means hope.
I learned that once in a rare while, one of the surviving sprouts got lucky enough to successfully flower and produce a chestnut. And from that seed, a new tree could be grown. People searched for the still-living sprouts and gathered what few chestnuts could be produced, and began growing and breeding the trees.
Some people tried hybridizing American and Chinese chestnuts and then crossing the hybrids to produce purer American strains that might have some resistance to the disease. They did this for decades.
And yet, it wasn't enough. The hybrid trees were stronger, but not strong enough.
Extinction is inevitable. It's natural. There have been at least five mass extinctions in Earth's history, and the sixth is coming fast. Many people accepted that the American chestnut was gone forever. There had been an intensive breeding program, summoning all the natural forces of evolution to produce a tree that could survive the plague, and it wasn't enough.
This has happened to more species than can possibly be counted or mourned. And every species is forced to accept this reality.
Except one.
We are a difficult motherfucker of a species, aren't we? If every letter of the genome's book of life spelled doom for the Queen of the Forest, then we would write a new ending ourselves. Research teams worked to extract a gene from wheat and implant it in the American chestnut, in hopes of creating an American chestnut tree that could survive.
This project led to the Darling 58, the world's first genetically modified organism to be created for the purpose of release into the wild.
The Darling 58 chestnut is not immune, the presenters warned us. It does become infected with the blight. And some trees die. But some live.
And life means hope.
In isolated areas, some surviving American Chestnut trees have been discovered, most of them still very young. The researchers hope it is possible that some of these trees may have been spared not because of pure luck, but because they carry something in their genes that slows the blight in doing its deadly work, and that possibly this small bit of innate resistance can be shaped and combined with other efforts to create a tree that can live to grow old.
This long, desperate, multi-decade quest is what has brought us here. The tree before me is one such tree: a rare survivor. In this clearing, a number of other baby chestnut trees have been planted by human hands. They are hybrids of the Darling 58 and the best of the best Chinese/American hybrids. The little trees are as prepared for the blight as we can possibly make them at this time. It is still very possible that I will watch them die. Almost certainly, I will watch this tree die, the one that shades us with her young, stately limbs.
Some of the people standing around me are in their 70's or 80's, and yet, they have no memory of a world where the Queen of the Forest was at her full majesty. The oldest remember the haunting shapes of the colossal dead trees looming as if in silent judgment.
I am shaken by this realization. They will not live to see the baby trees grow old. The people who began the effort to save the American chestnut devoted decades of their lives to these little trees, knowing all the while they likely never would see them grow tall. Knowing they would not see the work finished. Knowing they wouldn't be able to be there to finish it. Knowing they wouldn't be certain if it could be finished.
When the work began, the technology to complete it did not exist. In the first decades after the great old trees were dead, genetic engineering was a fantasy.
But those that came before me had to imagine that there was some hope of a future. Hope set the foundation. Now that little spark of hope is a fragile flame, and the torch is being passed to the next generation.
When a keystone is removed, everything suffers. What happens when a keystone is put back into place? The caretakers of the American chestnut hope that when the Queen is restored, all of Appalachia will become more resilient and able to adapt to climate change.
Not only that, but this experiment in changing the course of evolution is teaching us lessons and skills that may be able to help us save other species.
It's just one tree—but it's never just one tree. It's a bear successfully raising cubs, chestnut bread being served at a Cherokee festival, carbon being removed from the atmosphere and returned to the Earth, a wealth of nectar being produced for pollinators, scientific insights into how to save a species from a deadly pathogen, a baby cradle being shaped in the skilled hands of an Appalachian crafter. It's everything.
Despair is individual; hope is an ecosystem. Despair is a wall that shuts out everything; hope is seeing through a crack in that wall and catching a glimpse of a single tree, and devoting your life to chiseling through the wall towards that tree, even if you know you will never reach it yourself.
An old man points to a shaft of light through the darkness we are both in, toward a crack in the wall. "Do you see it too?" he says. I look, and on the other side I see a young forest full of sunlight, with limber, pole-size chestnut trees growing toward the canopy among the old oaks and hickories. The chestnut trees are in bloom with fuzzy spikes of creamy white, and bumblebees heavy with pollen move among them. I tell the man what I see, and he smiles.
"When I was your age, that crack was so narrow, all I could see was a single little sapling on the forest floor," he says. "I've been chipping away at it all my life. Maybe your generation will be the one to finally reach the other side."
Hope is a great work that takes a lifetime. It is the hardest thing we are asked to do, and the most essential.
I am trying to show you a glimpse of the other side. Do you see it too?
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3K notes · View notes
loaksky · 1 year
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— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔
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mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k
you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!
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tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)
an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.
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neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.
ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.
neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.
neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.
yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.
eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.
“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.
“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”
neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.
“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.
your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.
“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i—”
“i’ll pass.”
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.
“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”
“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”
and the door is shutting in your face.
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neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.
has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).
“morning,” you smile.
you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).
“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”
“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”
“…i’m not.”
you beam.
“great!”
you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.
neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.
“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.
“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.
“who’s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.
“girl in 5a.”
first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.
jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”
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neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.
she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.
neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.
little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.
neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.
neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.
neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.
“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.
neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.
“morning, 5a.”
neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.
you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.
you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.
“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.
“hey,” you sigh.
“long day?” she humors you.
the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.
and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.
(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).
so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.
ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.
“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”
that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.
“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”
“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”
ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.
“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”
you’re grinning.
“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”
ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.
“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”
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neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.
the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.
you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.
you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.
little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.
meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.
everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).
neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).
neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.
neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.
you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.
neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.
neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.
neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.
you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.
you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.
you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.
it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.
it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.
probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.
you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.
you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!
it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.
you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.
you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.
you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.
you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.
your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.
regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.
your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.
it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.
you end up sleeping in the living room that night.
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neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.
neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.
“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.
“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”
neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.
(yeah, that’s totally it).
“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.
she huffs a breath, defensive.
“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”
oh—
you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.
you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.
in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.
“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”
“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”
“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”
neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.
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neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.
it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.
you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.
neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.
they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.
she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(
realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.
neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.
hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.
neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.
but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.
“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.
“yeah,” you hum.
“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.
“thanks.”
neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.
“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”
“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”
a blanket of silence.
“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”
the elevator dings and the doors part.
“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.
neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.
neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?
neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.
neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.
neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.
“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.
“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”
“you miss her,” he fills in.
ellie turns red.
“fuck you, i don’t—”
“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”
ellie swallows, lips pursing.
“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”
“fuck you—”
“for someone who likes bitches you—”
ellie groans.
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neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.
and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.
you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.
she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.
“been doing alright?” she asks finally.
you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.
you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.
“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”
ellie hums.
“how’s work?”
“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.
neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.
neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.
“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”
your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.
“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.
it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.
“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”
“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”
and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—
“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”
your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.
“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.
ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.
“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.
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neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.
neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.
neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.
you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.
neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.
“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.
“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.
“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”
“i do not love her,” ellie barks.
jesse smirks.
“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.
“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”
“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”
“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.
“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”
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neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.
who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.
neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.
neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.
neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.
she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.
you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—
“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.
“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.
you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.
she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.
“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“i was, er, in the area?”
one of your eyebrows raise.
“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.
it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.
“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”
the words after are a silent insinuation.
god knows i did.
you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.
“i like you.” she says suddenly.
you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.
“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”
neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.
she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.
“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.
her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.
“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”
“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”
ellie shakes her head vehemently.
“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”
“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”
ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.
“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”
she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.
“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”
your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.
“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”
you breathe out an involuntary laugh.
“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”
you flinch.
“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”
you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.
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18+ BONUS
neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.
she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.
needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.
didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.
neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.
“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”
the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.
one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.
“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.
that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.
especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.
neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.
you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.
“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.
“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.
“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”
all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.
“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.
your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.
you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.
“surprise,” she whispers.
neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.
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