#the only time i can relax in my home is when there’s an event or when everyone’s asleep
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Part of the “We’ve Sold Our Hearts (To Each Other)” universe. Takes place directly after the last snippet. Probably not what Melkor was expecting.
xxxxxx
Melkor regretted answering the phone the minute he heard the voice on the other end. He had been sitting on the couch with a very sick Mairon stretched out across his lap, the Bachelorette on in the background, when his phone rang.
Thinking maybe it was the pharmacy or the doctors office, he answered right away. In despairing hindsight, he should have checked the caller ID.
“Melkor, hello.”
Melkor wanted to crawl into a hole at the sound of that stupid, pompous voice.
Manwë.
Melkor sighed, adjusting his position just enough so that Mairon wouldn’t wake up to him talking. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise, little brother? I wasn’t expecting a call from my parole officer this afternoon.”
He could practically hear Manwe rolling his eyes and felt a small twinge of satisfaction at irritating his brother.
“Look, I don’t have time for this. I’m just calling to invite you home for Christmas. Varda and I would love to see you.”
Melkor stiffened, relaxing only when Mairon shifted on his lap. He had to gather control of his voice before speaking. “No.”
“Melkor—“
“As tempting as your offer is, I’m going to have to decline. Even if I wanted to be there, which I don’t, Mairon’s sick.”
Melkor was never glad when Mairon was sick. When it was mild, he was very overdramatic about the whole thing. When it was serious, like now, Melkor refused to leave Mairon’s side for fear he would deliriously walk off into the void.
However, it worked in his favor this time.
So he thought.
“Melkor, if you’re going to lie, at least make it a good one. You haven’t been with Mairon for months. You kept him around for a few weeks after that work event and then you ended it like the others. And I hate that I know that.”
Melkor winced. That was the one problem with not keeping contact with his family for long periods of time. Their information was always sorely outdated.
However, Manwe was right. That did happen. Of course, things were more complicated than that and the outcome was now very different from what Melkor’s brother was describing.
But that was a story for another time.
Before he could deliver a stinging retort, Mairon moved his head slightly and gave a pathetic sneeze. Melkor immediately put his phone down and stroked tangled red hair away from his partner’s face.
“How are you feeling, precious?”
Mairon sighed. “Like shit.”
Melkor nodded, squeezing him gently. “Better than yesterday?
Better than when I found you last night?
Mairon seemed to pick up on what he was implying. He gave Melkor a warm glance, full of reassurance. “Yes, love.” He sat up, steadying himself, before getting to his feet.
Melkor felt his heart lurch. “Where are you going?”
Mairon gave him a withering look. “The bathroom. Do you want to hold my hand while I’m in there?”
At least his snark is returning.
“No, you little shit. I want to make sure you can see. Take Minnie with you.”
Mairon rolled his eyes, though Melkor thought he saw some affection there. “I was planning on it.” He called Minnie to his side, the red huskie trotting loyally behind him with her tail wagging.
Only when Melkor was sure Mairon had made it down the hallway without any trouble did he remember he was still technically on the phone. He sighed, picking up his cellphone and hoping this conversation could be ended as quickly as it began.
“Look, I can’t come, I don’t want to, the end. I’m trying to save you time.”
“Who was that?”
Melkor rubbed his free hand over his face. “Who? You mean Mairon? Yeah, I told you, he’s sick and I’m not coming.”
An elongated moment of silence made Melkor think his brother had hung up. Unfortunately, he had no such luck.
“I can’t believe you were serious…Anyway, I didn’t call you to play word games or judge you for your life choices. Dad wants everyone to come home for Christmas this year. He says it’s important.”
Melkor snorted, reacting instinctively. “That makes this whole fucking song and dance even less appealing. If I could get a restraining—“
“Melkor, it could be important. Bring Mairon, since apparently he’s involved in your misery business, I don’t care what you do. But get your ass up here. You’re lucky dad still wants anything to do with you after—“
Melkor ended the call, hoping to regain his sense of control before Mairon came back. He sighed.
It looked like they were heading to Valinor for the holidays.
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strawbeb · 1 year ago
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surprise visits from villagers is the worst feature of animal crossing. i cannot enter my home and just chill out because two seconds after i enter there’s someone inviting themselves in spontaneously. nintendo im autistic i already have to deal with surprise visitors in real life please let me live in peace without the fear of hippeux breaking down my door
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hannie-dul-set · 2 months ago
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having the worst fucking week of my LIFE i can't do this anymore.
#4 days straight government events at my internship. thesis got fucking overhauled by our adviser.#because he's using us to compete with his colleagues at the office.#had to juggle those two (+ my event. ill get to that later) that i got SICK what the fuck.#had the event ive been planning for about two months earlier. the fucking uni's general services office were assholes and caused us major#delays#which led to us getting fucking RAINED on so we had to CANCEL it HALFWAY and all of my kids#work on the stage and venue design got soaked in the rain#on top of all of these.#when i got back home after half a day of thesis. half a day of org work. my mom tells me#that rini and woong got taken by their mom and she can't find them anywhere#their bitch of a mother that leaves them starving all day to fucking sunbathe!!!!#i was bawling for a good thirty minutes last night UGH im pretty sure she just took them to the back of the house somewhere.#my mom's gonna ask help from the neighborhood kids to look for them huhuhuhuhu.#id be fine with it if the mom takes care of them. i seriously never tried to bother them too much until this weekend because i thought the#mom has been taking care of them but she hasn't so i had to feed them myself and sHE TOOK THEM AWAY 😭😭😭😭.#god i'm having the worst time.#and now i have to clean the aftermath of this ti#week's hell before i can finally fucking relax in my room.#i hate it here.#at least i'm hot.#event costume was an emo tiefling with a nearly six foot tall axe.#wore it while commuting to uni!!! loved the stares that i got it was very validating!!!!!!!!!!#gonna add that since this week has been pure shit#the only things that i had looking forward to at the end of every day was seeing my cats and feeding them and id feel instantaneously better#but now they're not around!!!!!! so i'm extra fucking sad!!!! god i feel like sobbing again!!!!!#there were only two things that i asked from the lord today.#that it wouldn't rain. and that i'd get my cats back.#neither of those fucking happened!!!!!!!!!! my event was thrown to hell and i still miss my fucking cats!!!!!!!!!!!!
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hoshigray · 2 months ago
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫! | fushiguro tōji
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Not only are you drunk on a Friday night, but you’re a drunk, closeted succubus who is, unfortunately, under the care of the hot neighbor under your roof! Would you ruin the mood if he found out about your little secret? You don’t even wanna know!
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! succubus reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! reader + Toji are neighbors - age difference; reader is in late-20s + Toji is mid/late 40s - crushing/mutual pining - drug/alcohol usage - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping) - Daddy kink - sqǔitïng - anal play (m! receiving) - 69 + backshots + spooning + cowgirl positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - creampies - praise kink - pet names (baby, doll, dollface, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie) - implied marathon sex - mention of drool/spit, tears, and cum - not proofread; will do l8r.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.8k
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pulled this story out of my ass; I literally spent a whole single DAY dedicating to writing it. please enjoy, and tysm for 11.9k loveliesss ☆ love and appreciate u all !!
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“…shit.”
There’s no way.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit—”
Of all days for this to happen.
“Oh, my fucking God, not tonight!!”
Tonight was already an eventful night, with the full moon shining brighter than the stars. Life has put you so fast in a whirlwind that you can’t recall the last time you permitted your body to unwind. Can you blame yourself, though? From moving to a new neighborhood and scoring a new job, things have kept you undeniably busy for the past few months. And not too mention,  it’s your fault for being a bit of a hermit and lacking a drive for social interaction. 
That’s precisely why your old college besties – Shoko, Utahime, and Yuki – pulled you out of your hideyhole and encouraged you to join them this Friday night to have some fun! “C’mo~n, lighten up! No more thinking about work or whatever; have some fun!” “Yeah, y’know you’re my biggest drinking buddy. Now, hurry up and share this cocktail with me!” The ladies pressure you to relax and enjoy the start of the weekend with some good drinks and delicious food. And, you hate to admit, it worked like a charm – the longer the hours went, the more you felt free as if all the weight holding you down had been lifted.
The only problem is, like all good things, that it had to end and that you had to go home. Now check this out: 1) you left your car at home because, again, you were rigorously dragged out of your abode by your college companions. 2) You were all pretty much drunk, enough for neither one of you to drive on the road. And 3) you guys are in the city, and catching a lift is not only a gamble but SUPER expensive! Guess that’s what you get for choosing a Friday night to free-ball.
However, when hope was lost, and you wouldn’t be in the comfort of your bed tonight, you received a text on your phone, and you could practically hear the angels sing in the heavens above!
Recent Message from: Neighbor Fushiguro
Yo. You home? I’m out in the city picking up stuff for the house. Need anything?
Thank God for neighbors, am I right? The chances of someone you know being within the same vicinity of you may be low, but never zero! Did you feel bad that you texted back saying you needed a ride back to your house? Sure. Did you feel extra bad when you asked a huge favor for him to drop your friends off at the nearest hotel? …Yeah. 
But luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. The only thing you had to endure was him teasing you about your little outing (with the help of your friends in the back of his truck) and your tipsy persona. “Never took you fr’ one who drinks.” He scoffs while putting you down on your couch after slinging you over his shoulder because you complained about your feet hurting. Damn heels! “Neither one who gets drunk.”
“It wasn’t my fauuu~lt,” you whine with a significant stretch while your neighbor roams around. “My fwiends, they forced me to–hic–to do it…”
“Mm, do your ‘fwiends’ always push you over to do things?” He shouts from the kitchen; you can hear cabinets opening and closing. 
“When you’re the youngest of the group, they do.”
“Well, maybe I gotta get to know ‘em so they can push you into goin’ out more. And maybe you can quit avoidin’ me when I invite you over.”
“I don’t try to avoid you!” You sprout defensively. “And quit teasing me, Toji! You’re supposed’ta be on my side; I’m the victim here.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say.” Heavy footsteps draw nearer to where you are, and your heavy eyelids open to see a hand stretching towards you with a glass of water. “I’m here takin’ care of ya now, aren’t I, lil’ victim?”
A smile pulls your lips as you take the glass. “Thank you,” you express before a sip, and your neighbor lifts your feet to sit on the cushion beside you. 
“Y’re welcome,” he places your legs on his lap, grabbing the remote to turn on the television. 
You haven’t been in this neighborhood long enough to say you have friends. Don’t get it wrong; everyone you contacted has been lovely and friendly, and some have opted to help with your move! But aside from the casual greetings in the morning or the nods of acknowledgment, you barely know people who scratch the surface of acquaintanceship. Not to mention, it’s your fault for being a bit of a hermit. 
…But, there is one neighbor you could say you’re pretty close with. Someone nice. Someone dependable…Someone attractive that you’re on a mission not to stare too much.
Toji Fushiguro lives two houses down from you across the street. Remember I mentioned you had people assist with your move? This widowed, middle-aged man was one of the nice handymen who aided you and your friends with your boxes and heavy furniture. You remember it like yesterday, seeing this brawny man stroll up your driveway on the sunniest day of June. You nearly mistook him for an Olympic athlete. 
“So, y’re the one movin’ ‘round here?” The calm baritone of his voice was unforced. “Nice to know there’s a cute face on the newbie. Need any help?” It’s how he asked – so sultry and alluring you almost spaced out before nodding absentmindedly to his request for aid, hoping he didn’t notice you watch how the scar of his lip moved as he spoke. “Welcome to the neighb’rhood, kid.” Rarely do you have butterflies running amok in the pits of your guts, but they were challenging to deal with that day. 
And it doesn’t get any better from that day forward. No matter how hard you wished not to run into this immediate crush of yours, he would somehow wheedle his way into your path. It started slow, exchanging hellos or good mornings whenever he left for work or you took the garbage out. Then came the “Want me to do y’r lawn fr’ ya?” or the “House down the street’s havin’ a little barbecue, wanna get to know people?” You thought moving away from the busy city life would die things down. However, Toji making your head race every chance he gets wasn’t a move you could envisage. Think about how you felt the day he asked for your number to keep in contact “fr’ emergencies…or if ya need anythin’, shoot me a call,” how your heart jumped to your throat! Oh, the girls never stopped teasing you when you told…
Nonetheless, you can’t deny how much help he’s been. Well, outside of that, just being a great neighbor all around. Besides being an absolute succor, he’s an outlet you can come to for anything. Whether for the house, the community, or just personal conversations, Toji’s someone you can admitlingly say you’d depend on. With trust built from day one, sharing pieces of yourselves to break down barriers, it’s safe to say that he is undoubtedly a friend who made your decision to move a worthy risk.
…Yet, what’s even more risky is being alone with him, something you do everything you can to avoid. Why? Look at him! Would you trust yourself to be anywhere with this man alone? Of course not! This is why tonight is the riskiest night you’ve ever bestowed upon your drunk self.
“You got somthin’ to say?”
“Huh?” You perk to reality, anxiousness filling you once you realize you had been staring at the man. “N-No, I’m sorry.”
He stifles a snort, grabbing your feet to massage them from the pain. “Oh, wanna act quiet. You were all bubbly in the passenger seat with y’re friends. Now y’re all shy because y’re stuck with me, huh?”
“T-That’s not true!” A lie; he was right on the mark. Your heart has been beating nonstop once he sat next to you. “It’s just that…I’m sorry for making you drive and pick me and the girls up.”
“Nah, don’t apologize,” his focus is on your feet as he kneads and rubs the sole of your foot. “Told ya I was around the area doing some shoppin’, so pickin’ ya up on my way back was easy.”
You take another sip of your water. “Shopping?” 
“Mm, my kids are down here for the weekend, so I had to go out fr’ a bit and grab shit fr’ my daughter.” Ah, yes, Toji is a father; you remember him telling you about his two children in college, a junior and a sophomore. “They’re at the house right now; saw ‘em after I dropped stuff at the house before bringin’ ya home.” 
You hum. “Sorry for stealin’ you from them for a bit.”
He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “Please, they probably don’t even know I’m gone. They’re big kids. Plus,” your breath hitches when emerald eyes trail to you. “Now I get to finally have you all to myself, no curvin’ me and whatever this time.” 
“I’m not tryin’ to curve…”
“Yeah, yeah.” He goes back to massaging your feet.
“…Thanks again, Toji. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, sweetheart.” Your abdomen flexes at the use of the nickname. “You know I always got you…Say, did you hit y’r head somewhere?”
You blink, eyebrows furrow. “No? Why?”
He points to his temple. “Because I see like a lump right here.”
You mirror his movements, your hand touching the spot he’s pointing. And your fingertips meet with a lump on a location that sparks too much familiarity. You gasp aloud and cover the lump with your hand, the other covering your other temple. 
Oh, no.
Black eyebrows knit together. “You okay?”
Play it cool! “Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! You’re right; I probably hit my head somewhere while out.” You take this time to remove your legs off the comfort of Toji’s lap and stand up from the couch. “I’ll put something on it to stop the swelling.” You can also sense something aching down your lower back at that moment. Oh, hell no!!
“Ya sure? Need me fr’ any—“ 
BZZZZ!! BZZZZ!!
Toji’s cut off from the vibration of his phone in his jeans, pulling the device out to see that someone called “Megumi” was calling. Good, a distraction!
“N–No, no, I’m good from here.” You say through gritted teeth, the alcohol taking effect and making your stance a little buzzy to uphold. “J-Just stay here, I’ll be back!” You don’t even wait for his approval, turning on your heel and heading out of the living room to the stairs. Your body feels wobbly with every step you take, but you don’t pay it any mind because you can feel the lumps beneath your palms increasing. “God, please, not now, not today…!”
You march as fast as you can to your bedroom, nearly stumbling on the floor as you haul ass to your bathroom door. You do a terrible job watching your footing fall after rushing to turn the lights on, and stuff from the counter falls because of the impact. But you didn’t care, shuffling up so you could look at the mirror. And the sight you see fills you with immediate dread.
Horns are the first thing you see from either side of your head; the tips curl as if to form a crown but point to the ceiling. Your eyes are no longer human-like, pupils shaped like slits as if morphing into a reptile. And your ears get horizontally pointier.  “…shit.”
You then lift your skirt and tear a hole in your pantyhose above the hem of your panties, and your fear quadruples at the sight of something long and slithery protruding out of the hole. A long tail with a pointy end; you lose your mind. “Shit, shit, shit, shit—”
It’s then you realize why this is happening: you had forgotten to take your daily supplements that are meant to subjugate these features of yourself. You’ve been taking them for the longest time before you moved into this neighborhood, so you’re used to your typical human facade. Now, seeing these parts of yourselves is the very LAST thing you need right now! 
And then something hits you, an unsettling feeling that you’re too scared to confirm. Your eyes travel down to your shirt, your hands hesitantly pulling the bottom tucked into your skirt and lifting to reveal your navel. You then tug the top of your skirt to expose a spot you’re honed in on the mirror. And the urge to scream grows tenfold once you see a black marking on the lower part of your belly. 
A womb tattoo!?!? 
“Oh, my fucking God, not tonight!!”
“YO, HEY!” And just when it couldn’t get worse, you hear Toji coming up the stairs and beelining for your open bedroom door. Wait, no— “I heard screamin’ and a big ‘boom,’ you alright? Where are y—“
Your neighbor stops dead in his tracks once he appears in front of the bathroom opening; his concerned expression shifts to an immediate neutral deadpan. He stares at you, and you stare back at him, the silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. A ring fills your eardrums, dissociating from this entire scene and all its complications.
You want to cry. Maybe scream, throw up, or just straight up die on the spot. 
Because this wasn’t the night for someone to find out you’re a succubus.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…”
“…”
“…So, what are you?” 
Not even concealing your face in your pillow can hide you from the eventual questions of Toji, who sits idly on the corner of your bed. You cringe internally, never thinking this dilemma would befall you. The point of moving was to turn a new page in your life and leave the past behind with the city. Now, you are shriveling on top of your bed like a moody teenager, and your neighborhood crush is here to witness your depression.
“…What happened to your phone call?”
“It was my kid. I told him to lock the door since I’ll be out a little longer. Don’t try and deflect,” his blunt answer has you descend further to your inner turmoil. “How come I never seen these horns before?”
You sigh heavily; there’s no point in trying to divert now. “…I take supplements that hinder any features of my succubus appearance so I can look like an average human for the rest of the day.”
“Daily?” He sees you nod through his peripheral. “Succubus…the hell’s that?”
“Basically, I’m a demon that…that…” Yeah, no, let’s not finish that. “Never mind.”
“Bullshit. Tell me.” 
“D-Don’t worry about it, it’s not—“
“Look here,” he speaks to you with a stern tone, a hand coming to your waist to shove you a bit. “I went ahead and picked y’re drunk butt up, made sure ya don’t puke up a storm, and now y’re here looking way different from before. The least you could do is explain.”
God, to be lectured by a human – totally humiliating…! “…I’m a demon that gets energy from…se–….sexu, uhh………..sexualactivitywithhumanbeings.”
The silence that trails after your ramble is beyond awkward. 
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
God, just kill me right now!
The older man forces a cough. “So, you…have sex every day?” You can practically sense the tiny hint of discomfort from prompting that question.
“W-Well, I used to when I was younger. But I haven’t really…done it in a couple of years.” Jesus Christ, why is it so embarrassing to admit to someone other than yourself? This is the literal worst! 
“Is that bad?”
“It’s, uhh…It can be?” 
“So, why haven’t you done it?”
“Because…!” You snap your face out of your pillow and finally allow yourself to breathe correctly. “I just…I don’t have time like I used to anymore, and using my powers to make people forget afterward can get tiring. Also, the more times I do it, the more my drive gets intense from the last. The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since it’s been a while since I’ve let my powers out, I’m sure it’s nastier than ever…”
“…Well,” Toji turns to face you. “Have you ever had the urge recently?”
“I-” Woah. That question came out of nowhere, almost answering it without proper consideration. “Wh–What do you mean by that…”
He shrugs. “Like—you know what I mean—like, even though you try to suppress it, do you still have those urges to do…ya know, it?”
Things get a little uncomfortable here; now you wish you kept your face in that pillow. Tojo’s gaze on you is distinguished — gentle yet stern, matching his demeanor. He's calm and calculating and is waiting for your response to his strangely personal question. 
“I…I, I don’t know.” It was another lie.
“Why’re you lyin’?”
“I’m not…!” Toji clicked his teeth with a face.
“Fine, answer me this then. Have ya ever thought of doin’ it since ya moved here?” 
Yup, this question was far worse than the other. His words echo inside your noggin, bewildered with every syllable relaying. And the widowed man lifts his brow from the lack of an instantaneous answer. You open your mouth, but words fail to aid you, your tail shying away behind your shadow. “I-I…I don’t—“
“Ever thought of me?”
“Toji!” You shout defensively. Sure, it might’ve been out of line to ask. However, it’s the fact that he’s breaking your exterior with every question — because of how on-the-mark he is. You could never prepare yourself for that inquiry, the heat on your face growing more unbearable. How could he know of the frenzy he puts you through just for existing? 
“I’m not dumb.” You peep Toji, turning his torso and facing his entire front in your direction. “You think I don’t notice how often you try to push me off when I invite ya over or know when y’re lookin’ at me when you think I’m not aware’?” He dents the bed with his added weight, and you forget to breathe, watching him inch closer. “Or act all shy and cute when I got you to myself?” 
You gulp, your brain short-circuiting at the feeling of Toji’s palm on your thigh. There have been countless nights where you’ve thought of your neighbor more than once, indulging in fantasies you could never speak of to a soul, especially Toji himself. To let the man know of the dirty things you’d want him to say to you, the names you wish him to call you, the erotic things you’d like him to do to you — death is the only option necessary not to let that happen. Unfortunately, he seems to have a good idea now that he’s cornered you like this, and you’re too stunned to utter a word.
“It’s okay, though,” he whispers low now that he’s close to your face, and you have to hold back on letting out a yelp when his hand comes to hold your face, his index finger toying with your sensitive earlobe. “‘Cuz I love it when y’re all timid, can’t even look me in the face…Like now.”
You try to avert away from him, but his thumb brings your chin back to him. “Toji, please,” his name feels forbidden to say all of a sudden. 
“Tell me ‘no’.” His nose brushes the tip of yours, and you chew your lip. “I’ll stop right now and leave, let you deal with this y’reself…Or,” he ghosts to your ear, and you quiver. “I’ll stay with you and treat you to what y’ve been scared to ask fr’.”
“Toji, wait,” Fuck, you can’t remember the last time you had your ears so keen, his breath brushing it enough to compel you to meltdown.
“Say ‘no,’ princess.” You’re locked under his forest-green orbs, and you swear you could hear your heart hammering your chest. “Or I’ll treat you right tonight.”
Perplexed eyes can’t move anywhere else, and your lips are wet from licking them without knowing. Is this really happening…? An inquisition you had no time to answer for yourself once Toji closes the gap, centimeters nearer with every millisecond.
I…can’t…
His face draws near, and your eyes reflex to close. 
I don’t…want to…
Toji pulls you in for a gentle kiss; your thoughts radio silent after the contact of his scarred lips on yours. No shot. Your neighbor was kissing you right now — there’s no way!? This had to be a dream…! This is truly a wild night: not only are you tipsy to the noggin, but your neighborhood crush has found out your secret, and now you’re kissing that exact crush in your room?? Your muscles go tense at what is occurring. 
He peppers your lips with kisses, forced to catch up with him as he claims your lips, a palm snaking to the back of your head to keep you steady. He licks your bottom lip, chewing gently to prompt the softest gasps out of your mouth. “C’mon, baby,” he coos to your sensitive ears. “Relax wit’ me.” You nearly melt at the lick of your helix as his free hand courses from your chest to your waist. The brush of his fingers onto your tail makes you jolt. 
“Toji, wait,” you mutter under your breath as he nibbles on your pointy ear, your hands gripping the back of his black wife beater. “D-Don’t; I’m so sensi—Nmmm…!” Jesus, the moan you held back! Toji trails his mouth to your chin down to your neck to suck on your skin. And your lower half throbs harder. “Ahhh…hahhh…”
He returns his lips to yours; this time, his tongue runs on your teeth vigorously to seek entry. You submit after a chew to your bottom lip, whimpering as the older man inserts his wet muscle to greet yours. Surreal, isn’t it, to be tongued down by your neighbor? You don’t know whether it’s the alcohol, the twitches between your inner thighs, or the flick of his tongue and the sound of his purrs that have your face getting hotter. 
And fuuuuuuck, he’s such a good kisser — scratch that, he’s an AMAZING kisser! You’re practically turning into putty in the palm of his hands as he lips you, tilting his head to a proper position with a soft push to your face as he deepens the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, and you mewl, helplessly quivering when he teases the muscle with nibbles. Your waist has a mind of its own while it sways involuntarily, rocking as you sink into the zealous kiss. He’s not overpowering you in any way; if anything, he’s so overwhelmingly comforting, his hand caressing your cheek tenderly, and soft noises of lips smacking and breaking apart bounce one after the other.
Then, you shrill unexpectedly. “…!! Mmahhh! T-Tojiii, d-don’t—don’t touch…Haahhh…”
“Oh? Well, lookie here.” Your ears perk at Toji’s chuckle. Unbeknownst to you, distracted by the intense kiss, your neighbor sneaks his hand under your skirt and touches your private zone shielded by your pantyhose, fingers pressing up on your vulva area. “All we did is kiss, and ya already got your panties wet?”
Embarrassed? Of course, it’s been so long since you were touched like this and out of practice. Now, your repressed emotions start to crumble out of their straightened form the more Toji’s middle finger rubs on your panties. And let’s not even mention your thighs motioning to ride on the digit, your dignity starting to disintegrate. “Ohhh, Toji…”
“Mmm? What is it, sweetie?” He nuzzles to your neck after licking and sucking on your chin. “Feelin’ good down there?” He curls his middle and forefinger to push. “Got ya all excited?” He receives a confirmed hum. “Tell me how y’re feelin’.”
You gulped thickly, your breathing shaking. “I-I’m feeling—shit…” he laughs lowly at your swearing. “Nnnm! You’re making me feel…so hot.”
“I can tell, you’re twitchin’ like crazy right on my fingertips.” His fingers move into a circular motion, and your mouth goes agape. “Fuck, man…Hey, hold on, I wanna do somethin’.”
Toji removes his fingers from under your skirt before you can tell, the heat between your legs going tepid as he withdraws from your figure to lay his back on the bed. But before that, he unzips and loosens his jeans to his butt. A noticeable tent of his boxer briefs has your lips locked to each other, and your eyes widen when he subtracts the material. Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any more crazier, you are awake to witness the display of Toji’s erection in real-time. 
How long has it been since you’ve seen a real-life, living, and breathing dick before your eyes? You honestly can’t recall that; the responsibilities of human life have made you grow numb to your demon necessities that it no longer feels innate. However, the sight of your crush’s solid, girthy, excited cock is marveling. How your mouth waters as you ogle at it is borderline humiliating, eyes glued to the uncut tip.
“Like what ya see?” He asks smugly, kicking his jeans and briefs off and slapping his thigh. “C’mere, mama.” Oh, fuck, the quirk of your insides was unavoidable at his comment, primarily as he guides you closer to him. “Let’s warm up.” You yelp as he effortlessly moves your legs to where you straddle him. He pushes your skirt up to your waist, and you can hear the tear from your pantyhose. His thumb comes to slide your panties to the side, and he whistles. “Damn, lookin’ all pretty and wet fr’ me.” 
It’s either the fact that Toj’s dick is inches in front of your face or your bare pussy out in the air in front of him; either one of the two has your mind going in a whirlwind. And it all comes to a standstill the moment you sense something wet and firm glide across your labia, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. “Mmm, oh, fuck,” he groans after licking your cunt, throwing in another lazy one to have you holler. “It’s been so long…Shit.”Toji’s hands curl from your legs to cup your asscheeks, keeping your butt near him to lap his tongue around your chasm. You whine as he licks you down, your teeth clattering at the sensation. 
Oh, my God, your head begins to ache. It feels so good, your body finally coming back to the groove of things as you move your butt around. The man under you quickly latches his mouth onto you, a firm grip on your ass to keep you in place for him to service you. Speaking of service, your eyes flick to the erect limb before you, your mouth salivating with the run of your tongue across your teeth. Fuck, it looks so good; you admire internally before inching your face close to the length, your head getting dizzier from the sheer size and musk. Damnit…I wanna taste him so bad…!!
“Go on, dollface,” Toji gives your butt a playful smack. “I know ya need this bad.” 
God, he’s so right — you need this; there’s no point in denying anymore. You blow on it before placing a tender kiss, noticing how it pulsates as your hand wrings around the shaft. You lick your lips before pecking at the uncircumcised tip, and Toji’s hold on you goes tighter. He’s sensitive, you note. Adorable. You stick your tongue out to swirl around the cockhead, bathing it with your saliva before you inhale it with a delighted hum, gradually warming up your loosened jaw.
Fuck, the taste of a cock — something that felt nostalgic the moment he graced your tastebuds. Your eyes water a bit, trembles rocking your figure as Toji sucks on your wetness, and every inch you intake fuels the haze that fogs your brain. You stroke and suck him simultaneously, a forgotten method that rekindles now in this moment. You coat him with your spit the more you relax your jaw, slurping him unapologetically as if a different part of yourself takes over. 
On the other hand, Toji feels the same way. It’s been way too long for the widowed man since the last time he has been intimate with someone, let alone have a bare ass right in front of him. It’s no secret that he’s had the hots for you once you moved here, but having you on top of him like this is like something out of his wet dreams. The way you murmur cutely as you suck his dick turns him on so bad, a guilty pleasure come true as he drinks your nectar off your damp naked folds. His tongue teases around the entrance of your vagina before pushing it in, fucking your opening with his wet muscle. You cry on his girth, your tail cringing in the air from the stimulation. He spots it and grabs it from the base; how your lower half jolts to the grasp is humorously darling to him. So cute.
The minutes go longer as you two keep pleasing each other, and a soft whimper escapes your lips when you release Toji from your lips, lips plastering long and sweet kisses on his shaft as you massage the tip. Your other hand palms and kneads his ballsack, the jerk of his thighs rewarding to see, so you increase the pace of your hand.
“—Thhh, nmm!” Toji curses from behind, sluggishly licking from clit to your slit while succumbing to your touch and mouth. “Shiiit, just like that, baby, suck me off like t—Mmngh! Christ, I’m gonna..fffuckin’ cum…”
But then, you remove yourself from Toji’s member, the cold air instantly blanketing him. Green eyes blink as you move off of his lying body, observing you bending over with your face to the cold sheets.
“Toji,” you plea to him desperately, hooded eyes shining eagerly. “Please, I need it…Here,” you spread your ass, fully exposing your slit wet from your fluids mixed with his saliva. Jesus, you were heathing as if you were in heat. “Do it here, I need it inside…!”
You had the man shook; the cogs in his mind stopped working briefly. The picture of you presenting yourself like this to him was unexpected, but goddamn, did it turn him on astronomically! Toji stands on his knees and advances to you, removing his tank top and discarding it to the floor. “Yeah? You want it that bad?” You nod impetuously. “Words, sweetie. Need you to tell me what to do.”
“Toji, pleeease…!” You wiggle your ass until he cusps it, kneading your flesh lovingly to the point that your tail curls around his forearm. “Please, put it in, I wanna feel it…!”
“Yeah, is that what my princess wants?” You and Toji bite your lips when he aligns his tip to your inner labia, teasing you with grinding motions. “Does my demon baby want Daddy to mess y’r insides that bad?”
Oh, we’re playing that card, too? Holy shit, you were getting so wet from this! “Yess, Daddy, pleasee! Mess me up with that dick, wanna be filled up right nooww…!”
He can’t hide the proud grin. “Good girl. Here,” Toji begins to push the cockhead to you, and your lips flatten at the wince of pain that accompanies the push. “Stay still, and lemme reward you,” his hips move slowly in your direction, you grip the sheets to prepare yourself, and your nerves are dialed to a plane of exhilaration you can’t regulate. Oh my God, is this happening? He’s gonna fuck me? So many thoughts cloud your mind, too excited and anxious for what’s to come because it’s been so. Damm. Long. How’s it gonna feel? Is your body ready enough? How does Toji feel about this; is he just as nervous as you a—
Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt halt at the sensation of Toji’s tip finally inserting itself into your vagina, too absentminded that your open mouth couldn’t say a word. Oh, fuck it’s in, it’s in! Your eyes widen, your muscles tense, and your voice struggles to cry. The older man continues to add himself leisurely, the length sundering your slit and stretching your opening as you take him inch by inch. Your back arches instinctively, wailing silently as you can feel the foreign limb intruding your tightness, quick quirks of your frame as he rubs your velvety texture. Ohhhh, my God…!!
When he slowly starts to rut into you, recurring waves of rapture hit your nerves every. Single. Time! You’re entire body is rocked to the core with every short yet gentle pound; the feeling of Toji’s veiny cock scrapping your channel has you shivering. And once he’s encouraged to push his entire member until the very hilt, you yelp aloud when the tip kisses your womb. “—Oooh??!”
“—Mmngh!” Your quick spasm surprises Toji. “Ohhh, shit, there it is. Hmm? Is this where ya want me, mama? Want me right…here?” He snaps his hips swiftly, the rushed movement and hit to your cervix knocks you winded. And another, you keep wringing his shaft acutely. “Ahhn, God fucking damn i—Iisshhffuck, fuck, I can’t, gonna…Hnghh!”
Toji’s body shudders above you, bucking into your warmth with a jittery pattern. The prolonged reaction of his orgasm claims him now, succumbing to the silky, tight texture and how well you’re grasping onto his girth. He comes inside you, moaning as he ejaculates earlier than expected. You sense it, humming to the immediate filling. So warm, so full of his cock already that your toes curl. 
And Jesus Christ, it felt so. Fucking, Good! You were no longer drunk from the alcohol; now, you were intoxicated by the prowess and pleasure of Toji’s dick. 
“Hah, haaaah, fuck,” he throws his head back with a hiss, his abdomen relaxing from the earlier flex. Then, your tail glides up from his abs, feeling up on his skin and roaming on his happy trail. He snickers at your feline-like comportment, “Heh, actin’ all cute now that you got what ya wanted, huh?” You say nothing, bashful to his words, while your tail curls up to his chin. “Don’t go quiet on me now, dollface; I heard you squeaking and moanin’ seconds ago.”
Toji then returns to rut into you despite recovering from his climax, furled to have you shrieking uncontrollably for him. The smacks of his pelvis recoil the flesh of your ass, his come stuffed inside you now glued to his erection as he rocks into you balls-deep. “Mmmm, yeah, that’s right, baby,” he grabs your tail and wraps it around his hand to pull; you scream louder, and your vaginal walls clamp tighter than ever. “Arch more fr’ me, enjoy me—nmm…!—fuckin’ you real good.”
The pull of your tail makes your senses hypersensitive, perturbed by the stress of it being pulled, yet the enjoyment you feel from it is too inexorable to comprehend. Coherent sentences double down to undecipherable babbles, “—Daahh, hoohhfuuc—D-Daddyyy, Daddyyy…!!” Tears well up in your eyes as he inflicts blows to your ass, the pain too quick to prepare for yet the sting enough to make you rigid. “—Too much, ish t’oo muuuch…!”
Another smack to your butt, and you howl once again. “Huh, ya say that, but y’re milkin’ my cock like crazy.” He bends down to remove your hands that try to hide your face and horns with the pillow. “What, ya don’t like this? Hmm? Want me to stop?” 
“No, nooo!!” You shook your head immediately; your vision blurred for a few seconds. “I loveee iit, I love this, love Daddy’s diick—Ahaaa!! More…I want moreee!” Fuck, this is bad; any more than this, and you’ll be addicted for sure.
“Good,” he whispers to your ears. Good Lord, you weren’t going to survive. “Because I ain’t done wit’ ya yet, princess.”
Before you can register his sentence fully, Toji straightens and lays on his side behind you, lifting your leg to create a suitable angle. He then plunges into you harder and faster, the different positions helping the sporadic cadence achieve deeper penetration while scraping your upper wall with ease. At this point, your body is too hot and sticky to care about anything else outside this room; your head pounding and too misty, your senses corrupted by the constant pokes to your cervix and the increasing haze that you don’t feel human anymore. Your succubus roots flourish, drool escapes your lips, and wanting nothing but this feeling to remain ceaseless.
“Gahh, ohhhDaddyyy, ahhahh,” eyes roll to your skull at the brush of your sweet spots. “Shhoo good, I fweel shoo gooood…! Harder, hardeeerr!” 
“—Khhck, goin’ as hard as I fuckin’ can!!” Toji kisses your cheek after a lick, chewing on it after hearing you mewl submissively. “Jesus, this pussy, out of this fuckin’—Nnngh…world.”
You turn to him and claim his lips, and he reciprocates into your steamy kiss. Vulgar tongues exchange spit and encroach on each other’s mouth, and you helplessly suck on Toji’s after he shoves it, your puffy lips intaking the attractive noises he makes. And you slither a hand down to your clitoris to swipe erratically while your tail goes around Toji’s waist and curves into the crevice of his ass. Suddenly, Toji stiffens at the pointy end of your tail, tickling his anus, and the raven-haired man gasps at the insertion. Too stunned to speak, he can only move his hips rapidly, his white-ringed shaft digging deep into you with the help of stimulating his prostate. 
“—Taahhh, y-you, lil’ minx…!” He breaks the kiss and bites your lip to hear you whimper. “Tryin’ ta make me cum again?”
You nod, breathing heavily. “Ohhh, Daddy, I’m so close…! Gonna come!”
“Me too, mama, me too…” 
Hot moans and groans fly out of each other’s mouths, bodies stuck to each other as you both chase for release. Everything feels so fast, so hot, happening all at once; all you can think about is the grinding presses you push up on your delicate clit. Fuck, fuck! It’s coming, it’s coming…!”
Then, it arrives. Your cunt, aching for the climax, receives the crescendo you’ve been aching for this entire time. The walls of your vulva contract around Toji’s member, milking and wringing him as you come loose to your grounding. A clear liquid exerts out of your urethra, showering out to stain your panties, torn pantyhose, and bedsheets, your breathing losing its steadiness and falling to a jagged tempo. The same goes for Toji, who falls into his peak along with you; your fluttering folds force him to submit and release his second load into you with a hiss. The older man’s heaving frame keeps bucking into you until every drop fills you to the brim, burrowing his face deep into your neck to rest as the shocks rock you both.
Finally, everything goes quiet. The cozy atmosphere pulls you out of your heightened elevation and lays you down with silent clarity. Both you and Toji, sweaty and sticky all over, are still linked to each other as the high dissipates. Shuddering figures begin to calm down and fall at ease with the tranquility.
Toji kisses your neck, and you croon until he comes to lay his lips on yours for a tender peck, then on your soft cheek and your temple. He then removes his flaccid bulge, white fluids oozing out of your hole. “Damn, that was good,” he mutters breathlessly. “Hmm, how ya feel—“
The onyx-haired man couldn’t finish his question because of the sudden change of positions you abruptly conducted. He now lays on his back with you straddling him; the calm tone switched to an unexpected spiking mood. 
You then hand grab his dick and arrange it back to your raised hips. Viridian orbs widen. Wait. The tip meets your labia once more before you descend it down. What the f—hold on— And then, his cock is swallowed back inside your wetness, and Toji grits his teeth.
 “Sh-Shit, sweetie,” Toji’s hands come to your waist. “What’s up, aren’t y—“
“Sorry, Toji,” the man surveys with confusion, watching you strip off and throw your shirt somewhere. Your naked chest is now out for him to see, and his breath hitches when you place your hands on his pectorals while a span of bat-like wings springs out from your back. “…That wasn’t enough.”
Wasn’t enough?? He repeats with furrowed brows, noticing the half-lidded, lustful expression and the sharp dents of your canines. Then, it hits him: 
“The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since it’s been a while since I’ve let my powers out, I’m sure it’s nastier than ever…”
…Oh, shit. “Wait, we can talk about—“ You get your answer once you bounce on his cock without notice, Toji nearly choking on his tongue. Nope, no room for prattling.
“You let out so much, made my mind go so crazy,” you grind your hips on his pelvis, squeezing his limp cock while it gets firmer and firmer. “Feel so good…More, I want moreee…”
“C-C’mon now, baby, can’t we take a break for a minute at least—“You bring your face an inch away from his.
“Daddy,” your neighbor shudders at the gentle kiss you place under his chin. “Please take care of me like you promised, ‘kay?”
Your gaze lured him in, a trap he was foolish enough to fall for. Because now, he’s stuck under your bow as you begin to inflict an inescapable rhythm, rebounding on his erection until the base meets your folds. Choked groans suppressed by Toji, but take his lips with yours, enforcing a loving yet salacious spell with your satisfied moans. Now, your crush realizes you weren’t the meek, adorable neighbor he dotes on. 
Tonight, he was yours to play like a fiddle…And shame on him for getting way more turned on than he should be!
Wow. Guess I’m dyin’ tonight.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I should be fuckin’ dead right now.
Toji knew something was up when his eyelids opened, and his emerald eyes scanned the ceiling, instantly recognizing that he wasn’t in his master bedroom. The rays of sunshine are blocked from the curtains, yet the light of day crawls in and basks the room in a low glow. Chirps of birds outside greet him on the basking of a new autumn day, lying comfortably in the cold, silky sheets of the bed.
He wakes to a bit of a headache, mentally and physically groggy. Attempts to move are already tricky and aches all over his body keep him grounded in the mattress. Ugh, feel like I’ve lost all feelin’ in my legs; the man can’t even lift one leg without a grimace. And even his arms are challenging, one so oddly heavy as if it’s nailed down. 
“Fuck, man.” His first words of the day are a curse, irritated by the drum of his head. He tries to lift himself; again, it’s not possible, agitating the man even more. And why the fuck is my arm so hea—
He doesn’t finish his sentence — the answer reveals itself once he turns his head to the left. 
He sees you, surprised to view you in your natural form still. Horns have grown a little larger, yet still small enough for you to rest your cheek on his shoulder. You were sound asleep, faint snores picked up by his ears as he examined your face at ease with a peaceful slumber. Nude, the both of you, a hand wrapped around his left arm to stick close to you while the other is stationed at his chest, your bat wings shriveled together to not get damaged. And judging by the snake-ish feeling, your tail was curled around his bare thigh. 
Strangely innocent to see after the events of last night flash into Toji’s recollection, funny to match such a lewd scenario to such a sweet face. He stifles a laugh, placing his right hand on the vulnerable one on him, his thumb caressing your knuckles as he grasps your fingers. Suddenly, some of the soreness he harbors feels light — glad I ain’t dead, I guess.
Your eyes jit behind your eyelids, a soft groan as you suddenly move and scrunch your face. Finally, your drowsy eyes sheepishly flicker open. Lidded gaze fighting the spell of sleep with every bat of your eyes.
“Mornin’, gorgeous.” Toji greets you.
“…”
“…”
In real-time, Toji watches your somnolent morph into a gradual display of mortification. He’s a little envious to see you spring up with no strain on your body, wings batting out of their relaxed state, and your hand still with his. “T-Toji??” You question directly, eyes surveying the nude neighbor in your bed, doing everything in your power to ignore the fact that you’re naked as well. Speaking of, you notice the subtle pink glow of your womb tattoo, and anxiety spikes to a high. “I–uhh–I’m so so sorry for last night! Sorry you had to bring me back home, and I didn’t mean to act weirdly on you with—Ooof?!”
“Relax,” he cuts you off by pulling you back to his lying frame, his left hand now free to snake on your shoulder. “Don’t talk so fast; my head’s poundin’ like crazy.”
You blink aimlessly, awkward now that you’re fully aware you’re in this man’s embrace. You can’t help recalling what transpired last night, suddenly feeling squeamish. “…You okay?”
“I feel like my life’s been drained by my dick,” he answers bluntly, adding more weight to your embarrassment. “Wakin’ up to a pretty face who nearly killed me with their pussy isn’t somethin’ I’d expect.” 
“……sorry.”
“It’s alright,” calloused fingers glide and intertwine with his yours, stroking your thumb with his. “Had a good time either way. Wild, but good.”
“Really…?” 
“Really.” You probably shouldn’t have peered up to see him look your direction. Albeit exhausted, his handsome face and sleepy grin ignite the heat on your cheeks. And your stomach flips, hearing a laugh when you meekly avert your gaze away. “How many times did we do it?”
“…Not sure,” long enough for my womb tattoo to be blatant. 
“Me either. Does that happen often?”
“Sometimes? I guess it’s because I haven’t done it for a long time, so I went…off the rails because of the intensity.”
“Noted, because I never felt so old until now. I probably pulled somethin’.”
“….Sorry.”
“Y’re good,” Toji scoffs before moving to place a soft kiss on your forehead, and your heart skips the tighter his hand holds your hand. “Tell ya what, I can help you with that cycle of yours, probably…twice a month, so it doesn’t get too crazy like last night. And don’t use y’re powers or some shit to make me forget, either. I don’t wan’ that.”
You lift your face from his shoulder, the heat spreading to your ears. “You don’t have to do that, Toji, I wouldn’t—“
“Nah, I’m down; it’s what neighbors for. Besides, it finally gives me a reason to make ya interact with me more.” Again, his smug smirk causes knots in your stomach. “Like the sound of that, mama? Let Daddy take care of you?”
Your lips quiver, and you hide your face back onto his shoulder. The rumble of his laughter worsens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail squeezes on his thigh. “Don’t say it like that, Toji!”
“Y’r tail seems to like it.”
“Stop it!”
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by tamayura banko + dividers by @cafekitsune.
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heartswithinreach · 5 months ago
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Sitting on LaDS lap
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Xavier
Physical contact is nothing new for you two. You trust Xavier with your life on the battlefield and when you're fighting the evening commute.
The train is packed on your way home after fighting Wanderers all day but Xavier doesn't notice until he sits down and realizes the person sitting next to him isn't his partner.
But before he can give up his seat for you, you're sitting across his lap and resting your head on his shoulder. He watches you settle, amused and flustered by your boldness to do something like this in public.
"I don't think this is allowed for safety." He says gently, not wanting to wake you. "But if you're that tired..."
Xavier holds you close, making sure you don't fall off his lap from the movement of the train, and peacefully dozes with you until you're home.
Rafayel
“You’re supposed to be my bodyguard — why aren’t I sitting on your lap?”
Rafayel pouts mostly for show and so he doesn’t come across as too eager. He’s barely holding back from squeezing you in a tight hug, he didn’t expect you to be so soft.
But he also didn’t expect what he said would make you self conscious. Rafayel quickly pulls you back down when you try to get off of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, making sure you stay put.
“Relax, cutie. I was just joking. You can stay for as long as you want.”
But he will expect you to return the favor whenever he wants in the future. Especially if it’s at an event and he wants to rub your relationship in other peoples’ faces.
Zayne
His reaction depends on where you are and what the situation is.
If you sit on his lap while waiting to be seated at a restaurant, he’ll be unimpressed by the PDA but allow it so you’re both not sore from standing.
In the privacy of his or your apartment, you’re welcome to do whatever you like.
Every time you come near him in the early evening while he’s reading a book, he secretly hopes you’ll curl up on his lap. Your warmth is just the balm he needs after his shift at the hospital.
Zayne always worries about his evol in the back of his mind. What if his body temperature is too low and being so close is unpleasant for you? The only thing that’ll stop him from fretting and relax is if you play with his hair.
Sylus
Your ass hasn’t touched an actual chair in this man’s presence since you made your relationship official.
The first time you tried, he stopped reading his intel to ask, “What are you doing all the way over there, sweetie?” and patted his thigh. It couldn’t have been more obvious what he wanted.
Won’t stand for any “I’m too heavy” nonsense. He’s genuinely offended when you say that. Have you seen his physique? He waits until you’ve decided to give it a shot and then he's manhandling you onto his lap.
Pavlov dogs you into this routine until one day you just sit on his lap, completely unprompted, and he gives you the most infuriating, self-satisfied grin when you realize what you’ve done.
He’s won this small victory and he won’t let you forget it.
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femmeroll · 7 days ago
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okay i fear i enjoyed writing about older!sevika too much so here’s more i guess!
sevika x fem reader
cw: fluff and a tiny bit of smut, age gap, modern setting, sexting, sevika is old bless her heart
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older!sevika is so bad at technology it’s insane. she’s gen x, okay! she didn’t grow up with it like you did! it takes her forever to figure out apple carplay in her truck. once she does she plays the playlist you made her every time she drives.
she has no profile picture on spotify and her username is ‘Sevika123456’. you’re her only follower.
older!sevika gets so awkward when you take pictures of her. she’ll turn her head away or cover her face whenever you get your phone out.
“baby, no pictures please. i don’t wanna be on your snapchats or whatever.”
“it’s just for my camera roll, sev, relax. smile for me, handsome. so cute!”
older!sevika has a framed picture of you two in her office at work. (thank you to my friend who said modern sev would be a psychologist bc im obsessed)
one of her clients asks about ‘the girl in the picture’ after a session. she goes twenty minutes overtime gushing about you to her client who literally doesn’t care at all.
older!sevika still has cable and refuses to get rid of it. CNN is the default channel of her tv. she doesn’t understand paying for a million streaming services even though she pays for like…so many channels that she doesn’t even watch.
“look, sweetie. i recorded all the episodes of your favorite show for you. can netflix do that?”
“yes, sevika. netflix absolutely does that.”
older!sevika doesn’t understand any of your niche internet references. if you’re hopelessly chronically online like me, you are constantly quoting the most random shit.
she tried on a suit for some event for you once. you looked at her and said “who is the diva?” and poor sevi was so confused :( she has no idea what all that means.
older!sevika has a piece of masking tape over her laptop camera because she’s convinced that the government is watching her.
when she gets an add for something online that she was talking about the day before, she’ll immediately tell you that the government heard her.
older!sevika freaks out when you start sexting her randomly. she’s hella confused at first but sorta gets it after a while.
‘i’m touching myself thinking about u sev :/ i miss ur body so much’
‘Wow! ����🤤 I will be home soon.’
‘were the emojis really necessary’
in conclusion older!sevika has my fuckin heart🤍 i’m so in love with her it’s insane
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trashytracktales · 11 days ago
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Omg can you please write some smut with Lando about the FIA gala??? He looks so hot in that suit and I need something about it🥵😭 Maybe after the gala ended and they’re back to their hotel or they fuck while they’re on the plane back to Monaco.
The FIA (Feral Instincts Arise) Awards | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I knew there would be requests for this the second I saw Lando on that carpet. Bon appétit 😛
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
𐙚 summary ──── It's the 2024 FIA Awards, and Lando and his girlfriend can't help but steal a moment of passion, unable to resist the tension built through teasing touches and glances during such a glamorous night.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, established relationship, teasing, mild public intimacy, smut, descriptive language, fingering, bathroom sex, swearing.
𐙚 word count ──── 3.2k
𐙚 date ──── Dec. 14, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── I have nothing to say except that I am absolutely devastated that my role model and inspiration, Michèle Mouton has officially retired from her role as FIA Safety Delegate. I love her so much and will forever be grateful for the representation she provided for women in motorsport throughout the years. In other news, at least everybody looked so fucking hot last night.
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IT WAS PURE torture for her to see him up on that stage from the beginning of the evening. She’d sat in the audience, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for being able to be by his side during this exciting stage of his life — witnessing his hard work, his wins, and his dreams becoming reality. It's more than she ever imagined.
As she watched him, she realized she wasn't just proud of his accomplishments, but thankful to be the one he comes home to, the one who gets to share these moments that will live forever in both of their memories.
Standing up to cheer for him, as Lando’s name was announced for finishing second in the Drivers’ Championship, was a natural reaction. The applause was loud, a mix of respect and so much admiration for her determined racer boy who had fought tooth and nail all season.
McLaren’s triumph in the Constructors’ Championship only added to the celebration, the team beaming as they ascended the stage to accept their award.
While the room celebrated them, all she could think about was him — her man, standing under the spotlights, looking impossibly handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked perfect, from his styled curls to his sharp jawline and sweet, nervous smile. She felt very conflicted, overwhelmed with pride and love, yet squirming with a different kind of heat every time he looked for her in the audience. The way his dimple appeared when he smiled, the casual confidence in his voice as he gave his speech, and the glint of determination in his eyes as he thanked the team for having faith in him — every bit of it was intoxicating.
Now, at the dinner table, the atmosphere has shifted.
Glasses of champagne catch the glow, sparkling like liquid gold, as conversations hum softly among the elite of the motorsport world.
Lando sits beside her, relaxed in a way only he can manage after such a long, eventful evening. His suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He holds a champagne flute in one hand, the other resting lazily on her thigh beneath the table.
She can feel the warmth of his palm on her skin, his fingers flexing ever so slightly. It’s a casual touch — he’s sipping champagne, laughing at something Oscar just said — but the effect it has on her is anything but relaxed. Her heart races every time his thumb brushes against her soft skin, slow and intentional, almost like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.
Her own glass of champagne sits untouched in front of her, her attention split between the conversation around them and the heat blooming under Lando’s hand. She tries to pay attention, nodding along while Andrea talks about some funny incident that happened in the garage during the last race of the season. But her thoughts keep drifting back to him.
She glances over at Lando, her breath catching at how effortlessly handsome he is, now that he’s more relaxed and in his element. The golden light softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. But it’s the dimpled smirk that forms as he catches her staring that sends a shiver down her spine.
“Everything okay, gorgeous?” asks Lando, his voice low enough that only she can hear.
She nods, swallowing hard. “Positive. I'm just incredibly proud of you, that's all.”
His smirk widens, his thumb stroking her thigh with more purpose now. “You’ve said that already,” Lando murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes her ear. “But keep going. I like hearing it,” he adds, pressing his lips to her cheek.
She smiles, looking away, determined not to let him fluster her further.
However, Lando has other plans. His fingers trace unhurried patterns on her inner thigh, edging closer to the hem of her dress. The movement is subtle — nobody at the table would notice — but to her, it feels like her skin is burning. Her breathing gets heavier, and she shifts in her seat instinctively, her legs parting just enough under the table to grant him more access.
“My good girl,” whispers Lando, smiling against her cheek, then turning his attention back to the conversation.
Her heart skips at the quiet praise, and she shoots him a quick, warning glance, her eyes wide with panic.
Lando looks completely unbothered, taking part of the dialogue like he’s the epitome of innocence. The slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells a very different story, though. A secret one, that only they know about.
“Stop it,” she whispers through gritted teeth, her voice so low that it’s practically a breath.
Obviously, he doesn’t. If anything, her quiet protest seems to spur him on. The pads of his fingers creep higher, brushing dangerously close to the heat between her legs. She grips the stem of her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles white as she tries to take her first sip of alcohol of the night — at least then she'll have something to blame if anyone asks her why she got so flustered all of a sudden.
“Lando,” she warns, her voice soft but firm.
“Hm?” he hums, his expression completely neutral as he keeps his attention to Oscar, who’s recounting his Turn 1 incident from Abu Dhabi.
She bites her lip, willing herself not to squirm in her seat. She almost can not believe how shameless Lando is, then she remembers all the times he tested her patience when they were in public. At that, her free hand drops to her lap, fingers wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to still his movements. He doesn’t pull away, but he also still doesn’t stop. Instead, his thumb presses a little harder, a constant reminder of his presence.
“You’re squirming, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “People are going to notice.”
“Then stop,” she repeats quietly, her tone sharp enough to earn a quick, curious glance from Andrea, who's sitting across from her. She ends up forcing a small smile, nodding, then turning back to Lando.
He chuckles under his breath, leaning in just slightly so his words are for her ears alone. “But we’re having so much fun,” he teases.
Her body betrays her as heat pools low in her belly, and she can’t stop herself from shifting again, her legs spreading a fraction wider. Lando takes full advantage of the movement, his fingers grazing higher until they’re just shy of where she needs him most. She glares at him, her eyes filled with need and her cheeks burning when his fingers slide easily over her lace panties, pressing harder on her warmth. As a response, her body jerks, and she barely suppresses a gasp, her nails digging into his wrist.
“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath, her voice shaky.
His grin returns, and he tilts his head, finally looking at her again. His gaze is dark, heated, and he looks entirely pleased with himself. “No, you don’t,” says Lando, so sure of himself.
It’s a miracle she doesn’t combust on the spot.
Because he's right — she doesn't hate him, she hates the fact that they're in public and she's incredibly turned on, but there's nothing she can do about it.
Finally, she can breathe normally when he withdraws his hand from between her legs, just as casually as he’d started. Her body is still buzzing with the lingering traces of his touch as she places her hand lightly on Lando’s shoulder. Slowly, she rises from her seat, her fingers squeezing just enough to send him a silent message only he’d understand.
At that, Lando’s heart stutters for a beat, his mouth suddenly dry as he watches her glide gracefully toward the bathrooms. The way her dress hugs her curves doesn’t help the growing situation in his pants — it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, a small punishment for what just happened between them. He tries to act like he's not affected, emptying his glass of champagne while his eyes turn back to the table, but his focus is scattered.
His hand still tingles from touching her under the table, and now he’s left to deal with the knowledge that his teasing had gotten to her.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Minutes tick by, though they feel like an eternity.
Lando finds himself forcing a laugh at something Oscar says, remembering how impossibly talkative his teammate gets when he has a few drinks on board. He shifts in his seat, trying to mask his growing anticipation, but she’s all he can think about. His fingers drum against his empty glass, the weight of the moment making it almost impossible to sit still.
Then, his phone buzzes inside his pocket, her name lighting up the screen.
He doesn’t need to answer to know it’s just a diversion, and she’s not waiting for a conversation, either — she’s just giving him an out.
Lando clears his throat, “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, giving the table an apologetic smile, as he pushes back his chair and making his way out of the dining area with purpose.
His heart pounds in his chest as he walks toward the bathroom, careful not to seem too rushed, but acutely aware of the tension building inside his body with each step he takes.
The hallway leading to the bathrooms is quieter, lined with soft, ambient lighting and artwork that screams understated luxury. He takes a turn, his steps slowing as he spots her standing in front of the mirror inside the women's restroom. The space itself is elegant, all marble countertops and gold fixtures, with sleek stalls and huge mirrors.
She’s touching up her lipstick, her purse resting next to her, the subtle curve of her smile betraying the fact that she knows he’s behind her. Lando approaches slowly, his footsteps soft against the polished tile. When he’s close enough, his hands settle on her waist, his touch firm yet familiar as he pulls her closer.
“There you are,” he says, his voice low and full of heat. “Worried about your makeup when it’s just going to smudge off you anyway?”
Her smile turns into a smirk as she meets his gaze in the mirror. “God, you’re the worst,” she teases, her tone light but laced with something more intimate.
Lando chuckles while she turns in his arms. Her hands slide up his chest, her touch lingering as she looks up at him, her eyes dark with intent.
“Are you sure it can’t wait until we get back to the hotel?” asks Lando, even though he already knows the answer, because he knows the look she has painted all over her face very well.
Her lips brush against his cheek in a warm, lingering kiss before her breath tickles his ear. “Baby, that's hours away.”
She intertwines her fingers with his, and leads him to one of the stalls at the end of the bathroom. The space is just as luxurious as the rest of the venue — tall wooden doors that reach from ceiling to floor, polished brass locks, and a sense of privacy that makes it feel more like a secluded room than a bathroom stall. As soon as they step inside, the door locks with a soft click, and every ounce of restraint disappears.
Lando’s lips are on hers instantly, hot and demanding, his hands already traveling to the hem of her dress. There’s no time to waste, with all those people back at the table who could realize at any moment that it is no coincidence that they are both missing at the same time.
His hands slide up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher until he reaches the thin band of her panties. His fingers slip beneath the lace, tugging them down in one swift motion before his hand returns, sliding between her legs and finding her completely soaked.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers dip into her heat. “All this from a bit of touching?”
Her breath comes out in a shaky laugh as she clutches his shirt. “No,” she whispers, “All this from watching you on that stage, sitting next to you the entire night, seeing how people were cheering for you — and then from a bit of touching.”
A cocky smirk tugs at Lando’s lips. “That so?” he asks, pressing a finger into her, his pace measured as he stretches her slowly.
She gasps, her head falling back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. A second finger joins the first, curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit, making her see stars.
Her hands, trembling with anticipation, move to his belt, fumbling for a moment before she pushes his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. Her touch is soft at first, her fingers wrapping around him and stroking slowly, making his jaw clench.
She looks up at him, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she echoes his earlier words. “All this from touching me under the table?”
“Shut up,” he growls, grabbing her thigh and hitching it around his hip. His cock presses against her entrance, teasing her as he slides the tip through her slick folds.
“You shut up, and fuck me already,” she says, her voice thick with desire.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them gasping at the full sensation. The stretch is so sweet and perfect, and he pauses for just a moment, letting her adjust before pulling back and thrusting again, harder this time. Her back presses against the door, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he sets a relentless pace, in and out of her tight pussy. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he drives into her, each movement hungrier than the previous.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lando groans, his lips brushing against her ear. “Perfectly thight around me, baby. Always so sweet and eager, aren’t you?”
She clings to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he angles his hips, hitting a spot that has her biting back a cry. “Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky and full of need, while trying to mimic his rapid movements.
“That’s it,” he encourages her, his voice rough as his fingers dig into her hips. “Let them hear you, baby. Let everybody know how well you take my cock.”
Her head falls on his shoulder as he thrusts deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her. The tension coils tighter and tighter in her belly, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.
“Lando, fuck,” she moans wetly into his shoulder, feeling her pussy clenching around his length. “Shit, baby. Yes, don’t stop.”
As he buries himself so deep inside her, Lando realizes that's what he wants to do for the rest of the evening — the rest of his life, as a matter of fact. His lips part as he feels her walls twitching around him, making him — if that's even possible — even harder for her. His breaths come out in spasms, letting out a small cry of pleasure as his chest crashes against hers violently.
Sensing that she’s so close, Lando’s hand ends up slipping between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”
“Are you—oh, fuck,” she tries to speak, but all her thoughts are focused on how good he makes her feel.
“Yeah, yeah,” Lando assures her, “Right behind you, love.”
It only takes a few more thrusts before she shatters around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm washes over her. Her moans are muffled against his neck as he continues to fuck her through her release, chasing his own high. His movements grow erratic, sloppier, his grip on her tightening as he finally lets go, spilling into her with a low, guttural moan.
For a moment, they can’t hear anything else except the soft whir of ventilation and their labored breathing. Their bodies stay pressed tightly together as the echoes of their pleasure lingers in the small space.
Her chest heaves against his as she exhales shakily, her lips brushing his neck, then up his jaw in a silent thank you.
Lando smiles, slowly pulling out of her, his cock still hard and sensitive from his release. She shudders at the sudden emptiness, but before she can speak, his hand slips between her thighs again. His fingers slide inside, pushing some of his cum and their mingled release back into her.
“Lando,” she gasps, her body clenching instinctively around his fingers.
His breath falls hot against her skin. “Gotta make sure you feel it all night.”
Her cheeks flush at his words, and she bites her lip, torn between glaring at him and melting into his touch. He strokes her lazily, savoring the way her body responds to him even now.
“Insane behavior, Norris,” she exhales sharply, finally looking up at him.
“My brand,” he smirks back at her. “But what about you, hm?” he asks, his tone soft, but teasing as his eyes rake over her wrecked expression. “Going back knowing you’re filled up so good?”
She rolls her eyes at him, but the heat in her gaze betrays her. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You love it,” he quips, fixing a strand of her hair and then kissing her deeply one last time.
She smiles against his lips, brushing her thumb over his mouth to wipe away the faint smudge of her lipstick. Then, leaning up, she presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t take too long, champ.”
With that, she exits the stall, glancing once in the mirror to make sure she looks composed, and collecting her purse before heading back to the table.
When she returns to her seat, the conversation flows just as before, no one paying much attention to her absence beyond a polite glance. Her heart pounds in her chest, the sensation of being so intimately connected to Lando still fresh in her mind as she settles into her chair. She picks up her glass of champagne, finishing it in one go, her hands steady despite the warmth still coursing through her body — and the wetness between her legs.
A few minutes later, Lando comes back, his phone pressed to his ear as he pretends to be mid-conversation. His expression is casual, his voice light as he murmurs something unintelligible before slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his seat.
But as soon as he sits down, Oscar’s eyes narrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Lando catches the look, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. “What?” he asks silently, his expression confused.
Oscar doesn’t answer, instead he points directly at Lando’s bowtie, which is noticeably crooked.
Lando’s eyes widen as he glances down, and straightens it as casually as he can, his cheeks turning faintly pink.
“It's windy outside,” Lando mutters under his breath, low enough that only Oscar can hear.
His teammate just grins knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever you say, mate.”
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Thank you for reading!
None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
© trashy track tales, 2024
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Gala Buddies
Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.
So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.
Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.
Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.
At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.
Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.
Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.
“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.
Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.
“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”
“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”
“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.
The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”
Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”
Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”
“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.
“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”
Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.
“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”
“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”
“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”
Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”
Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.
Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.
The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.
“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.
Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”
And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.
“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.
“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”
“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”
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sheeezu · 13 days ago
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Emergency shift, tonight.
Another step by step guide, but this time it's mainly focused on how to shift when you'd do anything rather than stay in this wicked reality, perfect for permashifters or anyone frustrated with their current living situation in general.
OK, so I made this method in my WR, since I can't possibly "shift" here (I can switch realities on command by intending, so shifting isn't an activity for me anymore, I don't need to do methods), so last night i went to my WR, with as much skills I had before my first shift, I had an infinite time to figure out the perfect I need to get the hell out of here shifting method.
:)
Step 1, Morning: (divide this into four parts, morning, afternoon, evening and night)
Yes, you woke back in your CR, but don't think about that, get into the mindset that you're happy and you'll shift tonight.
First of all, drop all tasks from the CR, stop, don't do assignments or anything, don't focus on your CR.
Afterwards, what you need to do now is relax yourself, go ahead and pick something to do that you enjoy, so you can divert yourself from overthinking about shifting (personal recommendation, Sims 1 :) listens to subliminals in the background, don't worry about them if you think you have a strong enough mindset.
Don't completely abandon your CR body, don't just become a robot, eat, talk with your family (don't if you're not a fan of them). Avoid shifting forums as much as you can, mainly because there is always something irrational on there which could possibly discourage you.
Quick tldr for this step: relax, calm yourself down, listen to subliminals.
Step 2, Afternoon:
If you're developing a headache or feeling light-headedness due to the excessive subliminal listening then that's good, it means your brain is absorbing the affirmations.
Now, trick your human brain by listening to subliminal boosters, but only those ones which repeat playlists by million, billion, trillion, or zillion or something, it won't matter how effective the subliminal is, as long as you believe the title to be truth, then trust me, it'll work like promised.
After you're finished with your subliminal run, top it off with one of wrath's seal and you're good to go, you're now mentally prepared to shift, and you are in a perfect mindset. (wrath, the subliminal creator, in my opinion their subliminals, especially the boosters are the strongest; search wrath's second seal, in my opinion it's the strongest one in the series).
._.
Now you have eye strain or something, get up, go sit outside for a moment, stare at the trees, birds, skies, and start daydreaming-!
(Don't worry, I didn't tell you to touch grass, you can stay indoors, but, daydream :)
Daydream about your sweet sweet DR, if you're going to your WR, just imagine all the fun things you'll get to do there, or visualize your WR (or script; meaning revise how you made your WR to be like)
OK, back to the DR part, daydreaming can be done in many ways, perhaps you'd like to zone out and fall into deep contemplation about your actions in your DR, kind of like a case study (for me, bringing up old events from my teenage years or something, specific memories arise which didn't make sense; like me ignoring someone I like, and try to figure out why I did it, this all strengthens your bond with your DR)
Or you could simply rewind your memories in your DR, or what you've planned for the upcoming days, what you were doing before shifting, my recommendation would be to kind of add lots of "too much information" like, where did you place the honey after you had finished baking that cake? Didn't you had to put a new bar of soap in the bathroom? Didn't you broke the button of your favorite coat yesterday?
Or If you're good at visualising, you can simply live an entire day in your DR (perhaps not an entire day, just visualise your morning routine)
Another good one, if you can't visualise or don't feel like it, open Pinterest, scroll through your home feed, and try to relate the pins you see to your DR (I was just about to buy that shirt; I swear I saw that exact same house somewhere; that cat looks exactly like my sister's cat)
Feel like your DR self now? If not you're definitely getting excited and prepared by now.
Step 3, Evening:
Now it's time to attach yourself firmly to your DR self.
Consume media which remind you of your DR self, try your luck with Character ai, maybe it'll make sense for once (make your own bots, add a little description of your DR self within the character details, the bot will remember your details, ask ill share a template :) your spotify playlist + pinterest, remind yourself, your DR is very much real, if it's possible, close your eyes periodically for a few minutes, imagine making decisions like your DR self, and facing the consequences right after; or you can have a small conversation with your loved ones, keep it related to your DR.
Eventually, you'll be led to nightfall, it's time to go home.
Step 4, Night:
Listen to the subliminals you've listened to during the day, again, for an hour at least, if you're doubting yourself, or feeling like you won't be able to do it, try to distract yourself by a memory from your DR or something, or simply, already get into you're DR self's mindset, say "affirmations" like these:
"What the heck is going on in my mind? Why am I thinking about shifting, I've already got so much work to do." (That was an example, get creative :)
If you're ready to start shifting, lay down in a comfortable position (or sit up but lean back on comfy pillows if you're in fear of falling asleep) take a few deep breaths, if you like meditation then do so, but it's not at all necessary, just relax.
....
Now shift (just kidding, use my method which I've explained thoroughly in my first post, follow it and no doubt you'll shift, you're invincible.)
...
I am very self assured in my method btw. Also I'll try not to be lazy and answer the questions in my inbox dw.
I'll also upload my script, since for once I've finally stopped crying about permashifting in every post.
Good luck, you'll shift tonight, no doubt.
Remember to look at shrimp colors at least once in your waiting room.
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reiding-writing · 3 months ago
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Hi :)
Could I maybe get a two-for-one for your work, Deprivation? Maybe where reader takes Spencer home with them and they do some skin to skin cuddles and he just melts and sleeps for more than a plane ride?
Or if you don’t like that idea, just any continuation of Spencer being so afraid of touch but desperately needing it? I feel that in my soul.
I love your work so much, you’re beyond fantastic!
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SALVATION — SPENCER REID!
after spencer gets some rest on the plane ride home, you offer for him to stay the night with you.
spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.0k | h/c | masterlist.
part one.
event masterlist.
a/n — thank you so much ml, i forgot how much i loved writing stuff like this, spencer needs so many hugs man
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Your apartment was warm, a comforting contrast to the sterile jet and the cold night outside.
Spencer seemed out of place at first, standing awkwardly by the door as you set your keys on the table. You could see the fatigue in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the case still clung to him.
“Why don’t you get comfortable?” you suggested gently, motioning toward the couch.
He hesitates, lingering in the doorway like he’s intruding, like he’s unceremoniously encroaching on your space despite the fact that you’d insisted he spend the night at your apartment, insisted that he was going to get a good night’s rest even if it meant not getting one yourself.
It makes him feel bad. Guilty. You should be doing this for him, or feeling like you have to.
“Spencer,” You sigh, “Please,”
He reluctantly relents at the hint of desperation in your tone, toeing off his shoes and sinking into the cushions of your couch. His fingers twitched nervously, his mind still racing even in the quiet.
You brewed tea in the silence, not wanting to push him into talking if he wasn’t ready but wanting to offer him something—something to show that you cared, that you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable with you.
When you came back, you set the mugs on the coffee table, then sat next to him, close, but not impeding on his personal bubble.
The air felt thick with the unsaid, but you waited patiently, letting him come to you in his own time.
After a few minutes of silence echoed only through soft sips from your drinks, Spencer finally spoke, his voice small. “I… I can’t seem to turn my brain off. It’s like, no matter how exhausted I am, I can’t stop thinking about everything. It’s just… always there.”
Your heart ached for him. You could see how much he was carrying, how much he was trying to hold together on his own.
“You don’t have to do that tonight,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to keep holding it all together.”
He looked at you, his eyes glassy with exhaustion and something deeper. Vulnerability. “I don’t know how to… stop.”
You scooted closer, your fingers gently brushing his. “Come here,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm. “Skin-to-skin contact can help calm your nervous system. Let me hold you for a while,”
Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull away.
You were really pulling his own moves against him.
And you weren’t even wrong. It would indeed chemically help calm down his nervous system through releasing oxytocin and serotonin, not to mention promoting activity of the oxytocinergic system.
So there was no excuse to not listen to you.
Slowly, cautiously, he allowed you to take his hand and guide him toward you. You both shed your outer layers—he pulled off his sweater, and you slipped out of your own long-sleeved shirt, leaving the soft barrier of your undershirts between you.
You pulled him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around him as he rested his head against your chest, your warmth surrounding him.
At first, Spencer was stiff, as if unsure how to allow himself to relax into you. But gradually, the tension in his body began to melt.
Your hands stroked soothing circles on his back, your heartbeat steady and grounding beneath his cheek. You could feel the way his breathing began to even out, slow and deep, as if the weight of the world was finally starting to lift.
“You’re safe,” you murmured, your lips brushing the top of his head. “It’s okay to rest.”
Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands curling gently into your shirt as he allowed himself to surrender to the comfort you offered.
He pressed closer, his body seeking the warmth and safety that came with your touch, revelling in what he’d lost from you after the plane had landed back in D.C.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind began to quiet. The intrusive thoughts that normally plagued him began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, the gentle hum of your voice as you whispered reassurances into the dark.
“I’m still so tired,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly as the weight of the admission hit him. “I know I slept on the plane but…”
“I know,” you whispered back, shaking your head softly and holding him tighter. “You don’t have to fight it anymore. Just sleep.”
And for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, Spencer allowed himself to let go. His body melted into yours, his breathing deepening as the exhaustion finally caught up to him.
Within minutes, he was asleep, completely relaxed in your arms.
You held him as he slept, your fingers still running through his hair, your heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. He deserved this—this peace, this comfort—and you would give it to him for as long as he needed.
And as Spencer slept, you could almost see the tension lift from his features, his body finally at ease. He looked peaceful, truly peaceful, in a way you hadn’t seen in far too long.
You stayed there with him, letting him rest, knowing that when he woke up, you’d still be there, ready to hold him again. Ready to remind him that he wasn’t alone.
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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 1 month ago
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Review Time : Fluffy Treatment
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Note: This is my personal take to Zayne's most recent memory. Noting has been confirmed by Infold, so this is just full delulu mode as I dive in to Fluffy Treatment. Spoiler Alert for those who hasn't seen the memory yet.
Infold is really giving Zayne girlies the stablish relationship vibe with Zayne. And the fact that MC again reciprocates Zayne's affection is definitely win for me.
Once again, MC willingly volunteers herself to take care of Zayne and honestly, they become more playful with each other. The stiff and aloof Zayne has becoming more and more accustomed to banters and jokes. He even openly teases MC referring to the whole box of chocolate she ate at his place.
And speaking of her place, remember that pajama set she bought for Zayne in Cozy Afternoon? he is wearing them again at his home. Come to think of it, only Zayne have a pajama set.
And about sleeping and napping, they were sleeping on the same bed/couch again. There is no stopping them being so cozy around each other. Let's also note that feeling each other's warmth is making them relax and sleepy. At the ending of the Fluffy Treatment, lets take in the fact the even if the are both half asleep they are taking care of each other. Zayne is such a gentleman covering them up because the blanket slip on the side.
Zayne is also being territorial with MC (Note: Territorial not Jealous because he knows she belongs to him), he was never rude and he still let her choose what she wanted to do. This was shown when MC wanted to enter the Pet Café. Even though he was clearly upset by wanting to pet another cat, he still doesn't force MC to do what he wants.
When MC reluctantly leave the Pet Café, Zayne wants to make up to her by dressing up as a butler without 2nd thought so MC can both have a Cat and a Butler. This is another heart warming event of them compromising to ensure no hard or ill feelings between them. If they couldn't do one thing, they will surely find a way around it.
Zayne also shows how submissive he is to MC, he did not put a hat when she stops him, he comes with her at the mall even though he is really anxious in going out, he let's her take care of him and most importantly, the way he knelt down to returns MC's shoes. I take this act as a complete surrender.
I have 2 favorite part of this memory. - First, is when he sniff MC a few time and confirms that he have his scent on her and saying "You're all mine!" Gosh it's so hot I almost peed my pants. And after claiming her as his, his tail wraps around her waits. I did a little research and found out that when a cat "Tail Wrapped Around You: Touching you with the tail or wrapping it around you is one way your furry friend expresses affection, relaxation, and love." I lost it! Zayne really is in love with MC and he is saying it by doing thing more than word can say. Oh my gosh, I can't tell you how much I swoon at this. He is friggin hot!!! - 2nd is when he bites and lick MC's finger and tell her that it was his way in showing affection and then!!! MC reciprocates his affection by rubbing his cheeks. His reaction is so overwhelming. We have to remember that he is a cat at that time and his senses are heighted. Try to imagine how Euphotic he must have felt when she rubs his cheeks. His facial expressions is sensational. It seems like his eyes are rolling back.
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Once again, Zayne and MC shows us what being equally in love is. It was always give and take for them. Always compromising and always so affectionate towards each other.
Zayne and MC becomes a safe haven for me. They give me happiness. I just hope that in their future memory, we will get to see them lounging in together in the Kindled moments.
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pomefioredove · 2 months ago
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There was only one bed troupe w/ Rollo and/or Neige? Maybe we got forced into a road trip again and crowley, the genius he is, didn't order the rooms correctly, and now we have a couple room. Good bc big room, but . 1 bed. Shenanigans/pining or something ensue ❤️
actually scrumptious idea I'll take ten more of these /lh throwing in che'nya as a special treat
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ only one bed
type of post: blurbs characters: rollo, neige, che'nya additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
Night Raven College is hosting its own cultural event, and everything has been going... strangely well. Seriously! No overblots, no evil schemes, just a day of food, festivities, and fun.
Then then sun sets. And then, of course, everything goes wrong.
"Prefect!" Crowley says, throwing your door open. "Something terrible has happened! A complete fool has miscounted the number of beds needed to accommodate our guests!"
You don't like where this is going. "...And?"
"Since the other rooms in Ramshackle are currently under renovation, I told our guest they could stay with you!"
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"A complete fool?" a cold voice asks. "If I recall correctly, Monsieur Crowley, you said you were the one who arranged the rooms."
Crowley laughs nervously and steps aside, letting Rollo Flamme in.
"Yes, well... ah, um... good evening!" the headmaster says, dismissing himself.
Rollo waits until he's gone out the front door before turning to you.
"Hello... again," he says. "I apologize for this... reunion. I'm aware these arrangements are completely improper."
You look around awkwardly. "No, it's... okay. You can come in,"
"You're a poor liar. But thank you,"
When it comes time for sleep, Rollo puts an unnecessary amount of distance between the two of you, nearly hanging off the edge of the bed with his back turned towards you. He's stiff.
It looks uncomfortable. "Are you sure you-"
"I'm well, thank you," his tone is sharp, but there's no malice in it.
You fall asleep before him, but he does eventually relax.
You know this, of course, because when you wake up, he's moved across the bed. His face is buried in your side, his arms tight around your waist, as if he's afraid you'll leave.
It's almost cute, in a way. And you let him be.
He looks like he could use the rest.
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You can almost see the rays of sunshine before Neige comes in, a cute little suitcase under his arm.
Crowley wishes you a good night and books it before you can ask any questions, leaving you with the boy.
"...My, this is a very dirty place," he says, studying a cobweb in the corner.
"I've been working on that,"
Neige turns back to you with the brightest smile. "Oh, I can tell! You've made a wonderful home here."
It's weird, a compliment without the bite. You don't even know what to say.
After Neige fusses and coos over Grim for a while, he gets in bed at 9:30, an unsurprisingly early time. You follow, exhausted from the day, anyway.
He doesn't ask to cuddle, but he keeps looking at you. Those big, doe-like eyes are even shinier in the dark.
Eventually, you give in. "...Alright,"
Neige smiles, absolutely delighted, and you have to remind yourself that he's not just getting closer to pick your pockets. He just likes it. Your arm rests around his shoulders as he clings to your side, warm and comfortable in his handmade pajamas.
When you wake up the next morning, he's made you (and Grim) breakfast in bed with what little he could find in your collapsing pantry.
And, inexplicably, the entire house is clean.
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"Hello again, you~" but the voice is coming from inside your room.
You flinch in surprise, and Che'nya giggles.
"Wha- Che'nya?" you ask, and turn back to the headmaster. "Wouldn't it make more sense for him to stay at Heartslabyul?"
"Nothing "makes sense" about that boy," Crowley sighs. "Well... good luck with that!"
And then he leaves. You stand there in defeat as Che'nya starts looking through your personal belongings.
He also seems to prefer looking at you, rather than sleeping.
"This house is rather drafty,"
"It's winter," you sigh. He's been staring at you for the past hour.
He hums. "I wonder if the snow loves the tree and fields, that it kisses them gently?"
More nonsense, you think.
Finally, you give up. "If you're cold, you can lay on me,"
You can tell that Che'nya likes that, not only because he immediately curls up, purring with his head on your stomach and his limbs taking up half the bed, but because he stops talking.
At least you can sleep in peace.
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teamatsumu · 10 months ago
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screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)
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summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.
word count: 1161
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel
event masterlist
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Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?
Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.
His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?
Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.
He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.
‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’
‘then just tell him’
‘u know i cant’
‘thats a u problem’
The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.
‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’
The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.
Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.
How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.
He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.
Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.
He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.
It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.
“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.
“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”
He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.
Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.
“Shin-”
He doesn’t let you finish.
“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”
You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.
“R-really?”
He merely nods.
Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.
“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”
There is a pause.
“You’ve received other confession letters?!”
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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Hi lovely Mae, I hope you're doing well! Could you please write a drabble with poly!jily where they deal with reader who has a social anxiety and after a busy day or a social event or something she's sick of making small talk and just wants to cuddle up with her partners? No worries if not! Love you mwah <3
Thanks for requesting angel! Hope you're doing well too <3
cw: social anxiety/burnout
poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 626 words
You come home feeling raw, worn down to nothing. You want to go into a dark, quiet room and never emerge. But there are two people you need to see first. 
“Angel!” James cheers as you come in and take your shoes off. “How was dinner?” 
He’s sitting with Lily on the couch. She looks happy to see you, but when you wordlessly hold your arms out and walk towards them her expression bends with sympathy. 
“Oh.” James extends his arms for you, folding you into a hug. “Not very good, then?” 
“No,” you mumble into his jumper, “I think it went okay. It was just a lot.” 
Lily makes a soft sound of understanding. They both know you were half dreading your plans tonight, a good friend’s birthday dinner where unfortunately she was the only person you’d know there. You spent the whole time sipping your water to avoid talking and trying not to seem awkward when you couldn’t avoid it. 
Lily’s fingers slip underneath your scarf, cool against your neck as she tugs it off gently. “Was everyone nice?” she asks. 
“Yeah. I’m just afraid I embarrassed myself.” Self-conscious tears prickle at the back of your throat. “I can’t think about it anymore, honestly.” 
“That’s okay,” she says. “I’m sure you didn’t embarrass yourself, lovely. Can I see your hand? You’re going to be sweltering in a minute here.” 
You pass her one hand and then the other, allowing her to pull your gloves off for you. 
“I’m sure everyone there loved you,” says James, rubbing your back while Lily pulls your hat from your head. Her nails scratch lightly at your scalp as she combs her fingers through your roots, smoothing out the frizzies it left behind. “Know how I know?” 
Between both of their touches, you’re starting to relax. “How?” 
“Because,” James whispers like it’s a secret, “Lily loves you. That means everyone must. She’s very picky.” 
“What?” your girlfriend exclaims while you laugh into James’ jumper. “I am not.” 
“It took me years, angel,” James tells you. “Years. But she snatched you up in under a fortnight. Given that, I really don’t see how anyone else could possibly resist you.” 
“I am not that picky.” 
“Oh,” says James, “so what you’re saying is, you’d drop either one of us for someone new in ten seconds flat?” 
You turn your head to peek, and Lily’s narrowed her eyes at him. “Careful,” you murmur. “She might do it to prove a point.” 
She lets out a short, appalled laugh. “You two are so awful!”
“Awful enough to be rid of?” James asks, but when she makes to walk away he leans forward and tugs her back onto the couch with you. 
Lily looks happy to be tugged. She lands in a heap next to James, her glare playful as she meets your eyes. “I hope all these jokes at my expense are making you feel better.” 
You know she’s teasing, but you go soft nonetheless, reaching for her hand and intertwining your fingers. “I’m sorry,” you say, earnest. “Love you.” 
Lily melts, and James gives your middle an affectionate squeeze. “I love you too, sweetheart,” she says. “Do you want to talk about dinner?” 
You let your head lay upon James’ shoulder, looking at her sideways. “Not really. I’m too tired.” 
James starts rubbing your back again, fondness emanating from his touch like a pleasant ache. “Is there anything we can do, then?” 
You hum. “This?” 
Lily’s lips tilt in a bemused sort of smile. “Just this?” 
“Yeah,” you sigh. You melt against James’ front, your fingers in Lily’s grasp. “This is nice.” 
A warm chuckle rumbles through James’ chest. He presses a kiss to your hair. “I think we can manage that.” 
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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 months ago
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Not so Fake
Masterlist
Tim stationed himself in the third sitting room in the Manor. It was the closest to the kitchen, and furthest from the bedrooms and entrance of the manor. In other words, the perfect hiding spot from his overactive family that have united to try and make Tim rest. The only member that would find him right away would be Alfred, who already left him a cup of tea with a few of his cookies along with one of his laptops.
A note left on top stating that Alfred expected him to actually relax, and spotting the stickers Tim could tell this was his personal laptop. Taking Alfred seriously, Tim booted up YouTube and decided to watch his new favorite, GalacticPhantom, or Danny. He had found the channel a few months ago when one of his search engines caught a mention of Tim Drake and Red Robin being the same person.
The video in question had started off with a very well made video of the camera zooming down from a space view of the Earth to Danny’s home town, through his window and coming to a screeching halt in front of Danny and his friend Wes. The opening was highly impressive to Tim and the twenty-five minute video that followed had Tim wanting to pull his hair out.
Everything Wes said was true, completely true.
Tim was absolutely stunned and terrified because the other teen had managed to fully pull together who Red Robin was without even being in Gotham. The only thing that stopped Tim from calling a meeting about it, was that no one in the comments believed him. Instead Wes was mocked with the tried and true, ‘what do the butts match?’. He ended up watching every video under the playlist, ‘Wes the Detective’ and every single video hit right on the money but absolutely no one believed him. 
Well, no one but his friends it seemed. Tim had a couple theories about it and if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes has his identity clock he’d be staking out the town now. So he chose to stick to the theory that Wes was incredibly smart, but cursed in some way.
However today Danny had posted a new video and Tim could barely wait to watch it. The title was called ‘This thing wont leave me alone.’ and the thumbnail showed a screaming Danny holding a broom with a humanism but clearly not human girl spiderman to his ceiling seemingly hissing at him.
Tim grinned as he pressed play and settled back into the couch to watch. As the intro came to an end it found Danny in the closet of his bedroom speaking into the camera as if he was documenting his last moments.
“Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel.” He whispered softly only stopping at a noise outside the door that sounded like nails scratching against something. “What the—” the chittering of a badger interrupted him to cover his curse. “Today I’m hiding in my closet because this demon thing showed up and won’t leave me alone.” Something being knocked over in the background was heard causing Danny to freeze again. “I am taking my stand though, I have my makeshift weapon and-and I’m gonna face it. In the event that I don’t come out of this alive, Tucker you can have my Doomed character, Sam just ask them out already, Val you can sell all my stuff, and Wes I’m sorry I gaslight everyone in school that one time into thinking you weren’t real.” 
“That was—you Danny, oh you better hope you don’t survive after this!” Wes snapped from behind the camera, his curse being covered by bird chirps, and a second later Tucker’s head popped up from the bottom right screen. 
“You’re focusing on that rather than the fact Danny said that all to the screen like we weren’t even here.” Danny shushed them all dramatically holding his broom in front of him like a weapon.
“It is time. Remember me views, remember me.”
“So—dramatic.” Sam is heard but not shown on camera, soon after Danny is shown bursting out of the closet startling the humanoid creature with white hair and bright neon green eyes. 
Tim assumes the creature is one of their little siblings decked out in a creepy cosplay, a really creepy one that Sam definitely had to have a hand in making.
The girl immediately starts screeching and hissing at Danny who starts screaming back before starting to swat at her with the broom. Only for her to drop on all four and start crawling around to dodge him.
“Why won’t you stay still!!” Danny cried out as he panted slightly out of breath. The girl let out an evil cackle starting to crawl toward him and the others fast as he head began to turn to the point that it was upside down. Everything was silent before Danny began screaming hysterically while hitting the girl with the broom before she managed to jump on him and they began to fight. The video cut off right as the girl got a good hit on his nose, only to come back to Danny back in the closet with a bloody nose.
“You okay man?” Wes asked from behind the camera as Danny just stared dazed ahead. Danny turned to him, eyes unfocused as he stared at the camera.
“Do-do I call an exorcist? Do we have exorcists around us? Bro I have a demon in my house, and my parents who are ghost hunters can’t even detect it. What do I do?”
“Danny, I think she might have broken your Lego space shuttle.” Val was heard and seconds later Danny was shown back outside the closet in a screaming match with her while fist fighting and rolling all over the ground. 
“THAT LEGO SET COST ME FOUR MONTHS ALLOWANCE!!”
“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU REGRET BREAKING IT!”
“ALL I DID WAS HIT YOU WITH A BROOM!”
The girl seemed to be responding to him in either gibberish, or a language they created. Which only seemed to anger Danny more.
“ENGLISH! SPEAK ENGLISH!!” The girl paused, stopping herself from landing a solid punch to his cheek before grinning at the confused teen.
“No.” Danny seemed stunned before anger took over again and the fight continued.
“You can_____speaking english! You____daughter of a______!!” The feed cut off before returning to Danny who was sitting on the bed of his wrecked room. The girl in question nowhere to be seen as Val cleaned some blood off Danny's cheek with a grin.
“I don’t know where she went, but I know she is still in my house. Tune in next time I find her because she better have some money to pay me back for my lego set. Thanks for stopping to watch this episode of mine and until next time, don’t let the ghosts get ya.”
“That was pretty interesting.” Dick said as he stole a cookie from Tim’s plate. “Are all his videos like that?” Tim didn’t even blink at his brother's sudden appearance as he moved to type out a comment.
“For the most part, ya. He’s a shit poster, his content is just a tun of stuff that is so outrageous and realistic but clearly not real.”
‘That fight gave off peak sibling energy. It’s giving, I’m gonna fight my sibling to the death because of one slight inconvenience.’
Jason hummed as he picked his book back up, dropping down in front of the couch to reread Pride and Prejudice. “Ya he was definitely fighting his little sister. He held back too much and she wasn’t pulling her punches.” 
“Only Drake would spend his time watching pointless videos.” Damien huffed, causing Tim to roll his eyes.
“Awe Dami, you know Tim is on mandatory rest. No work of any kind.” Dick grinned before jumping up, wrapping his arms around Damien and dragging him down onto the couch.
“Richard!! Let me go this instant!!” Damien screamed struggling to get away from his octopus of an older brother.
“No! I need my little brother cuddles and I need them from my Dami! No escape for you now.” Damian kept fighting Dick’s hold for the next twenty-five minutes while Tim put another of Danny’s videos on and rewatched it with Jason and Dick watching as well. The video in question was one where Danny went through a locker with his friends and went back in time to when his school first opened. Jason snorted, commenting on them making everything black and white. Danny meets a seemingly see-through kid named Sidney Poindexter and it ends with the two of them having a dance off.
“Bruce, why the fuck are your kids watching a video of a kid dancing with an Infinite Relams ghost?” Tim paused, staring blankly at his computer screen before turning to look at Bruce and John Constantine. “Wow holy shit, the Infinite Realms rarely interact with us since Luthor let the Anti-Ecto Acts pass. Yet that kid is interacting with one like their friends.”
“You’re saying this shits real?” Jason asked, closing his book looking at the screen more interested.
“Language Master Jason.” Alfred said as he walked in from a tray of tea for everyone.
“Sorry Alfred.” John nodded as he moved closer, eyes trained on Poindexter.
“If it is not real it is still more similar than could be possible. They’ve definitely had interactions with the Realms.”
“Wait, what are the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Tim asked his attention zeroing in on John.
“Well fuck, you don’t know? It affects like all of you, thought for sure you’d know. Shit this is gonna take so long to explain. We’re gonna have to call a JL meeting for this explanation because I’m not doing it twice.”
Of Meetings and Musings
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Honey Girl. Chapter Two.
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Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.
Warnings - smut. cursing.
Word Count - 4k
Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.
You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.
You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.
That's when it hits you.
Bucky.
The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.
Your Tethering.
To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.
His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.
You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.
"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.
"Good morning, Buck."
You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.
"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."
He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.
"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"
"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"
"Perfect. See you then."
"See you then."
It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Bucky arrives at 8:45.
You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.
You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.
Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.
You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.
He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.
"Hi," you whisper.
"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"
"I'm okay. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."
"I think that sounds perfect."
He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You know nothing about sailing.
Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.
You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.
"Creep," you tease.
"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.
He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.
"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"
"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."
You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.
"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."
You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.
"What?" you laugh.
"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."
"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.
He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.
"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."
"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.
"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."
"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.
He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.
"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.
"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."
"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."
"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."
He thinks for a moment.
"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"
He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.
"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."
Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.
"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."
"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."
"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.
The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.
You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.
He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.
"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.
"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."
"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.
"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."
"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.
"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."
Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.
"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.
"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.
"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."
"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."
You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.
"I don't know where to start," you whisper.
"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.
"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."
He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.
"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."
"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."
"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."
"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."
"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"
He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"Trust me, sugar, you're different."
Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.
Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.
Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.
Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.
He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.
He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.
You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.
"Bucky," you whine. "Please."
He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.
"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."
"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."
"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.
"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."
"My apologies, ma'am."
He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.
"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.
He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.
He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.
"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.
You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.
He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.
"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."
He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.
"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.
"I know, pretty baby. I know."
His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.
"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."
His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.
Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.
"You okay, sugar?"
You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.
"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."
He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.
"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."
He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.
"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.
He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.
"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."
"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."
You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.
"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"
"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."
You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.
He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.
The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.
The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.
Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.
"You should go. Eat something."
"I know. I just... I like being with you."
He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.
"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.
You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.
"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."
"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.
"One step at a time."
"All the time in the world," he echoes.
"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.
"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.
He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.
You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.
"Stella? Hey - you okay?"
"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"
"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."
"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."
"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."
"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."
"Ask away, Stell."
"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."
"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.
"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."
You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.
"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"
"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."
"I... I don't even know what to say."
"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.
"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"
You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.
"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"
"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."
"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."
"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"
You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.
"Wait... what? Where?"
"In California. The café is here, in California!"
You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.
There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.
Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.
You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.
Bucky or your dreams.
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