#its a little more than light but its not bad

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Unexpected Gift | LN4

. ݁☃︎���⁺₊❅. summary ━━━━━━━ Lando surprises Y/N with a very special gift, and she realizes just how much he values their relationship.

. ݁☃︎⋆⁺₊❅. pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

. ݁☃︎⋆⁺₊❅. word count ━━━━━━━ 1.6k

The city of London buzzed with its usual holiday energy. Crowds filled the streets, rushing to buy last-minute gifts, as festive lights twinkled above the sidewalks. The atmosphere was alive with the enticing smell of chestnuts roasting, combined with the crispness of pine and the comforting essence of cinnamon—scents that typically brought joy to Y/N’s heart. But this year, the season felt different—hollow, even.

It was December 23rd, and Y/N sat in her cozy West London flat, hands cradling a steaming cup of coffee as she gazed out at the overcast sky. The grey December sky mirrored the heaviness in her chest. She had told herself countless times over the past few weeks that it would be okay. That spending Christmas alone wouldn’t be so bad. Work had kept her in London this year, far from her family, who would be celebrating together in her homeland. But the real sting came from something—or rather, someone—closer to home.

Lando.

They’d been together for just over two months. It was still new, but it felt significant. They’d spent so much time together, sharing laughter, teasing over her love for cats and his unwavering loyalty to dogs, and indulging in cozy evenings that stretched late into the night. She thought they were building something special, something that might have included an invitation to spend Christmas together. But as the days ticked by, there was no mention of Bristol, no invitation to join him and his family.

“Maybe it’s too soon,” she whispered to herself, taking a sip of her coffee. She wanted to believe that. Meeting his family would be a big step, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. But still, the absence of his offer lingered like a cloud, heavy and persistent.

She glanced at the empty couch beside her. It felt emptier than usual. They’d joked about adopting a cat before—her longing for one and his insistence that dogs were far superior. She could almost hear his voice now, playful and teasing: “Cats are just judgmental roommates. Dogs? They’re your best friends.”

Despite her smile at the memory, the ache in her chest remained. This time last year, she’d shared with Lando how much she missed having a pet. Growing up, she’d always been surrounded by cats, and the absence of a furry companion in London made her flat feel even lonelier.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She leaned over to pick it up, her heart skipping when she saw Lando’s name on the screen.

Lando: “Hope you’re doing okay. Missing you here in Bristol. Can’t wait to see you when I’m back in London after the holidays. x”

Y/n stared at the message from Lando for what felt like an eternity before finally typing a reply.

Y/n: "I'm fine. Just missing you too. Have a good time with your family."

She hit send and set her phone down, the ache in her chest growing sharper with every passing moment. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why he hadn’t invited her to join him—she could respect the fact that they had only been together for a couple of months, and it was clear he had his family traditions. Still, the loneliness was heavy. Christmas was supposed to be a time of togetherness, but here she was, alone in her flat.

Her fingers brushed her phone screen as she picked it up again, smiling faintly at the sweet message he’d sent. He was always thoughtful, checking in even though he was surrounded by family. But it didn’t fill the emptiness she felt. Not entirely.

With a sigh, Y/n set the phone back down and reached for her mug of tea. Just a few more days, she told herself. Then maybe things would start to feel a little less empty.

Meanwhile, in Bristol, Lando was wrapping up a festive morning spent with his family. The house was filled with laughter and holiday cheer, but his mind kept drifting to London. It had been a whirlwind of excitement leading up to this moment, and now, the time had finally come.

For weeks, Lando had been carefully planning the perfect gift. Their playful debates about cats versus dogs always ended with him teasing her for being a "cat person," but he knew just how much she truly adored them. Every time they passed a shop with a cat lounging in the window, her face would light up, and he could see the longing in her eyes. She had never adopted a cat since moving to London, and Lando knew it was something she missed dearly. Determined to make this Christmas special, he was resolved to bring her the joy she’d been longing for.

Lando wanted to invite her for Christmas, but he hesitated, fearing she might refuse because she wasn’t ready to meet his parents. Not wanting to pressure her or make things feel too serious too soon, he decided instead to plan a different surprise. He’d contacted a shelter in London and arranged everything for the adoption of a small, ginger tabby. He knew it was the perfect gift for her, something that would bring her joy and comfort.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she met the cat. The thought of her eyes lighting up was enough to make his heart race as he finished packing his bag. The rest of the holiday could wait. This moment was going to be about her.

On Christmas Eve, after saying goodbye to his family, Lando set out for London. The drive felt longer than usual as he imagined Y/n’s reaction. The roads were clear, and the car hummed steadily beneath him, but his mind was a whirlwind of anticipation.

By the time he arrived at Y/n’s flat in London, the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. Lando took a deep breath before grabbing the cat carrier from the backseat, his heart beating fast in his chest. He knocked gently on her door, not quite sure what to expect, but knowing that this moment would mean everything to her.

The door opened, and there she stood—Y/n, looking soft and surprised to see him.

“Lando?” she asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be with your family for Christmas.”

Lando smiled, stepping inside, the carrier gently in his hands. “I was. But I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. I have something for you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Lando…”

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he crouched down and slowly opened the carrier. A small, ginger tabby with striking green eyes stepped out, its fur soft and smooth.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the cat. “Is this… for me?”

Lando nodded, his gaze warm. “I know how much you’ve wanted a cat. So I thought, maybe this Christmas, I could help make that happen.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes as she knelt down to pet the cat, her fingers trembling with emotion. “Lando, I… I don’t know what to say. She’s perfect.”

Lando smiled gently, his heart swelling with affection. “I thought you’d like her. Her name is Ruby, by the way,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I thought she looked like a Ruby.”

Y/n’s voice cracked as she looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “You’re… incredible. I can’t believe you did this.”

Lando stood, moving closer to her, his hands cupping her face softly. “I wanted to do something special for you. I know this time of year can be tough, especially with you being so far from your family. But you don’t have to be alone, Y/n. Not anymore.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’ve been feeling so alone lately… and you didn’t even invite me to spend Christmas with you and your family…”

Lando’s heart broke as he pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t invite you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. It was too soon, and I didn’t want to make things complicated. But I’ve been thinking about you, about us. I knew, more than anything, I wanted to be with you this Christmas. It just… took me a little longer to figure out how.”

Y/n clung to him, feeling the weight of her emotions. “I thought maybe you didn’t want me there… but now, with this… with Ruby…” Her voice faltered as she held the cat close to her chest. “Thank you. I didn’t think I’d ever get a cat, but now… I have Ruby, and I have you.”

Lando brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his voice tender. “You have me, Y/n. Always.”

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet comfort of the moment filling the space between them. The Christmas lights outside twinkled softly, but the warmth they shared was all that mattered.

That night, they sat together on the couch, the cat curled up between them as they sipped wine and exchanged stories. Lando had stayed in London with her, and while it wasn’t the Christmas Y/n had expected, it turned out to be exactly what she needed. A Christmas filled with love, surprises, and the promise of more to come.

As they shared a soft kiss under the glow of the tree, Y/n felt a profound sense of belonging. This was home.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n,” Lando whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Merry Christmas, Lando,” she replied, her heart full.

And for the first time in a long time, Christmas felt just right.

[vantetaes]

NEIGHBORLY FUN🫧🥂

LAWYER! NANAMI X CAM GIRL BLACK FEM READER!

SUMMARY!!! yn is a camgirl, working towards her dream of luxury, when a view realizes how close she actually is, how far will he go?

WARNINGS!!! 18+!!!, barely a relationship established before sex, oral (f & m receiving), missionary (?), ignore errors

the dim glow of your ring light illuminates your room in soft, diffused radiance. set up just right to cast a flattering light across your rich, smooth brown skin, accentuating the warm undertones that gleam in the dim ambiance. your hair is messily bunched into a light pink claw clip, holding the mess of waves out of your face and shimmering lipgloss.

THE WEEKND plays in the background from your orb, sound filling the semi-new apartment space. bouncing off the laminate flooring and smooth ceilings.

“pick up your phone, the party’s finished and i want you to know, im all alone”

you’re tipsy tonight, maybe more than tipsy. the almost-empty bottle of rosé sits precariously on your vanity, lipgloss around the rim catching a bit of the light as you finish adjusting your outfit. a sheer black robe drapes over your shoulders, teasingly loose. beneath it, you wear a lingerie set that delicate. lace tracing over your curves, hugging your skin in ways you didn’t know material could. brown star shaped pasties with Y-N encrusted on each of the cups with a small star shape beside them.

youd been pre-gaming, dancing to your favorite playlist as you got ready, letting the alcohol loosen your inhibitions. it always helps with the nerves, even though by now, you’re a pro at this.

“i always want you when im, coming down”

but in your wine-addled haze, your finger must’ve slipped, because the stream starts before you’re even aware.

still, your hips move like water to the beat of your music. letting the white wine run its course through your system. your faux doe furry slippers shuffle across your bedroom floor, flipping on a sunset lamp tucked in the corner. casting a warm pink and purple across your body.

your playlist shuffles, AGORA HILLS begins softly.

“ooo, this my shit!” you giggle to yourself, straightening up bed to get ready for your stream.

youd been a camgirl for around three years now. the only management you’ve ever had, was yourself. if something had to be done, you knew to only rely on yourself.

hence why you’re standing in a penthouse in a part of the city only neurosurgeons and lawyers can afford. it was something to prove for yourself.

so how did you manage to fuck up so bad?

the laptop sits open on your vanity, camera capturing you as you sway to the rhythm of the music. your hips roll in a fluid motion, the silky fabric of your robe clinging to your skin before shifting away with each movement, the robe slips from one shoulder as you spin lazily. you don’t notice the faint red light. not yet. instead, you’re caught up in the feeling, in the confidence that blooms under the dim light and the heady rush of alcohol.

“kissing i hope they caught us, whether they like or not”

you reach for the mail you’d left on the vanity, shuffling through it absentmindedly. the camera catches the briefest glimpse of an envelope. just a flash, but enough to reveal the name of your apartment complex in bold, black letters. it’s only on the screen for a moment, but for someone watching closely, it’s more than enough.

“i wanna brag about it, i wanna tie the knot”

pushing all the white envelopes to the side, your eyes can’t help but to draw to the pink screen.

HOTGIRLHOTFUN. com

➤YOU ARE NOW LIVE…

your brows knit together as you squint, trying to focus through the haze.

that’s when you see it.

the little red flickering light. the live chat scrolling at the side of the screen. the usernames. familiar, faceless, hungry.

you freeze, breath catching in your throat.

“oh my god.”

the realization hits like a slap to the face, sobering you in an instant. your heart pounds as you lurch toward the laptop, the chair scraping against the floor in your rush.

“shit—shit! no, no, no.”

your hands fumble over the keys, trying to stop the stream, but the alcohol makes your fingers clumsy, your movements frantic. the robe slips further, hanging precariously off your arms, and you’re too panicked to notice that your bra strap was following suit.

the chat is exploding now, messages flying by faster than you can process.

userano321: lmaooo wait, is she drunk?

kimgofmacity: this is the realest ive ever seen her

barbbigb: QUEEN, WE LOVE YOU!

anonymous000: what was that mail? did anyone catch that??

gnroyalty: i could’ve sworn i just saw her apartment name bro

your stomach churns as you catch the tail end of that last comment. your mind races, trying to piece together what you might’ve done. what they might’ve seen. the envelope. the damn envelope.

“i wanna show you off”

“god, im so fucking stupid!” you mutter under your breath, slamming the laptop shut with more force than necessary. the music cuts off abruptly, leaving the room oppressively silent except for your ragged breathing.

and someone was watching closely.

two doors down, in an apartment that mirrors yours, nanami kento sits at his desk, his laptop open before him. he’s still in his work clothes, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie loosened just enough to give him a semblance of relief after a long day. the glass of whiskey in his hand is barely touched, attention elsewhere.

he hadn’t meant to stay up this late, but the notification from the site had popped up, and he couldn’t resist.

not when it was you.

for the past month, you’ve been his escape. after endless hours at the office, after the pressure of being the reliable one, the composed one, the perfect one, he’s found solace in the way you move, the way you smile at the camera as if you’re looking directly at him. he knows it’s an illusion, that you’re performing for countless others, but it doesn’t matter. im those moments, it feels personal.

and now, watching you move in your apartment, the lightweight robe your wore threatening to give your whole audience a show. your real, unpolished self. it feels too personal. his breath hitches as he notices the envelope flash on screen, shooting up from his lazed position in the chair. his sharp eyes catching the familiar name of the building.

his heart pounds in his chest, a mixture of disbelief and something darker, something possessive. you’re here. not just in the abstract sense of existing in the same world, but here, in the same building.

he watches as you dance, as you laugh softly to yourself, oblivious to the fact that you’re live. There’s an edge of guilt twisting in his gut, but it’s drowned out by the thrill of knowing. of seeing you like this. unguarded, unfiltered, real.

and then you notice.

you glance toward the laptop, a fleeting look at first, before your eyes widen. the realization hits like a freight train, and you scramble toward the screen, a string of curses falling from your lips as you reach to end the stream. but it’s too late.

for nanami, it’s already too late. the image of you, raw and vulnerable, is burned into his mind. and now, with the knowledge of just how close you are, he knows he’ll never be able to watch you the same way again.

-

the outdoor cafe is rather warm. the smell of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries filling the air as you stir your latte absentmindedly. the ceramic cup clinks softly against the saucer each time you set it down, your hands trembling slightly. across from you, shoko sits with one leg crossed over the other, her sharp eyes watching you intently as you explain.

“and then i saw the chat.” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper.

“and i realized i was streaming the whole time. the whole time, shoko. this shits so dumb, how could i be so dumb?”

“so… you gave them a free show?” she exhales a puff of smoke from the cigarette she’s holding, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“basically.” you wince, lowering your head as you groan.

she doesn’t laugh, which surprises you. instead, she ashes her cigarette into the tray and leans forward slightly, resting her chin in her hand.

“so, what are you gonna do about it?”

you blink, caught off guard by her calm tone.

“i- i don’t know. i deleted the stream as fast as i could, but people were definitely recording. and—” you glance around nervously, lowering your voice even more.

“i accidentally flashed my building’s name on the mail.”

shoko leans back, dragging on her cigarette again, pinching the bridge of her nose before blowing the smoke out.

“well. that’s not great, yn.” she says bluntly, blowing more smoke upward.

“but it’s not the end of the world. just tighten up your security, maybe invest in some blinds if you’re gonna keep doing this. and for god’s sake, no more drinking before you stream.” her tone was sharp and clean. almost too much for your situation.

you nod slowly, taking in her words. she’s right, of course. she usually is, though her delivery could use some work.

“and hey.” she adds, tapping ash from her cigarette.

“don’t beat yourself up too much. shit happens. just handle it like the big girl i know you are and move on.”

“thanks, shoko. i love you, i needed that.” you give her a small, grateful smile.

“anytime. now go home and get your head on straight, i love ya too.”she waves you off with a flick of her wrist.

you finish your latte and gather your things, stepping out into the crisp air as you head back to your apartment. the walk is short, but your mind is heavy with everything that’s happened. as you step into the building and make your way down the hall, your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

you glance up and see him. tall, broad-shouldered, with a serious expression that makes your breath hitch for reasons you don’t fully understand. his blond hair is neatly combed, and his sharp suit clings to him in a way that makes you wonder where he’s coming from.

as he passes, the scent hits you first. warm, woodsy, with a hint of spice. it’s intoxicating, wrapping around you like a second skin. you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he glances at you, his brow lifting slightly in acknowledgment.

he was fine.

“good evening.” he says, his voice deep and steady, the kind that lingers even after the words are gone.

“um, evening.” you blink, shaking yourself out of your daze. you manage, your voice softer than you intended.

as he fully walks past, you catch another whiff of his cologne, and something compels you to turn.

“wait- uh, excuse me?”

he stops, looking over his shoulder. “yes?”

“i don’t think we’ve met. i’m yn. i just moved in a month ago.” you take a step closer, suddenly feeling a little bold.

he turns fully now, his expression polite but unreadable. “nanami kento. i live two doors down.”

“nice to meet you, nanami.” you smile, offering your hand.

“likewise.” his handshake is firm but not overpowering, his palm warm against yours while the rings he wore were cold.

as he pulls his hand back, you catch a faint trace of his cologne again, and it lingers even after he’s walked away. for some reason, you can’t help but smile as you turn toward your door, your mind wandering to thoughts you probably shouldn’t entertain.

pushing open the door to your apartment, boxes flooded your living room, labels signaling location sticking out in bold black lettering. placing your bag down on the granite island, your elbow props up your head, letting out a deep sigh.

deciding to push every box into its home, you find yourself biting off way more than you you could chew.

what brought you to this realization? the box labeled GLASSWARE. you bought in bulk just in case any got harmed in transport. only to come to find you have several glass plates and bowls stacked inside a flimsy cardboard box.

the only box your dad brought upstairs.

bent down to your knees, a new set and fingers wedged between your white furry carpet and box, struggling to find grip.

finally dropping it, you sigh in frustration, the sound coming out a little louder and jagged.

flopping onto the black couch, your hand wipes across your eyes.

“am i really gonna have to pull all those dishes out and walk them to-“

before you could continue, a knock at the door startles you.

you rise cautiously, brushing your hands on your legs before padding to the door. peeking through the peephole, your breath catches when you see him.

nanami.

you hesitate for a moment before unlocking the door, pulling it open just enough to meet his gaze. his expression is calm, though there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. wearing gray sweats and a large basketball jersey.

“hi.” you say, your voice tentative. “everything okay?”

“i was actually about to ask you the same.” he replies, his deep voice steady.

“i heard a lot of sighing and maybe a bird? thought I should check in.”

“im so sorry no, im just having trouble moving my kitchen boxes… to the kitchen? my dad put them in my living room and it’s just so-“ you notice yourself rambling before tight-lining your lips together.

“sorry.” he just responds in a laugh, hand brushing the back of his head.

“need some help? i finally have a off day and i wouldn’t mind.”

you hesitate, unsure if you should let him into the chaos of your apartment, but something about the steady kindness in his gaze puts you at ease. finally, you step back, opening the door wider.

“okay-” you say softly. “thank you.”

as he steps inside, his presence feels grounding, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the whirlwind of your night. the scent of his cologne lingers as he moves past you, and you can’t help but feel a little lighter knowing you’re not dealing with the mess alone.

you close the door behind him, still feeling a bit flustered as nanami surveys the mess in your living room. his expression remains calm and focused, his hands resting on his hips as he nods toward the heavier boxes stacked near the wall.

“those for the kitchen?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

“uh, yeah.” you reply, brushing a curl out of your face. “but they’re really heavy, you really don’t have to—”

“it’s fine.” he says, already moving toward the boxes.

his jersey shifts slightly as he crouches, revealing a glimpse of toned shoulders and arms. a tattoo covering the majority of his upper arm. the loose fit of the fabric clings just enough to hint at the broad, solid frame beneath it. your eyes flicker downward, and you notice his gray sweatpants sitting low on his hips, highlighting the bulge sitting prominent but obviously not at its peak.

you snap your gaze away quickly, heat rising to your cheeks as he lifts one of the heavier boxes like it weighs nothing. his hands grip the sides firmly, veins faintly visible on his forearms as he straightens up.

“where in the kitchen do you want these?” he asks, his tone casual, as if he doesn’t notice the way your attention lingers for just a second too long.

“shit, sorry.” you manage, pointing toward the counter. “by the cabinets, if that’s okay.”

he nods and heads into the kitchen, the sound of his steps against your hardwood floor grounding you in the moment. you follow him instinctively, watching as he places the box down carefully, then goes back for another.

“you’ve been moving a lot of heavy stuff on your own?” he asks as he grabs a second box.

“yeah, i mean- it’s not a big deal. i’ve done all of this alone already.” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt with one hand while the other pans around the partially decorated space.

“you should’ve asked for help.” he glances over his shoulder as he carries the box, his gaze steady.

“i didn’t want to bother anyone and i didn’t know anyone.” you admit, feeling a little sheepish.

“it’s not a bother. better to ask than risk getting hurt.”he says simply, setting the second box down in the kitchen.

his tone is firm but not unkind, and you feel a strange sense of comfort in his practicality. as he goes back for another box, you notice how the fabric of his jersey clings to his back with each movement, the sweatpants hanging loose but perfectly fitting at the same time.

“you really didn’t have to do this.” you say again, your voice softer this time.

he sets the last box down and straightens up, turning to face you.

“it’s not a problem. besides, it’s safer this way. you shouldn’t be lifting this stuff on your own.” he replies, brushing his hands off on his sweatpants.

his eyes are locked onto you, noticing how much small your frame was compared to his. of course he’d envisioned having you under him, gasping for air, something to bring you back down from him wrecking havoc on your swollen cunt.

“well, thank you. i owe you, i mean it.” you smile, feeling a warmth that isn’t just from the embarrassment of the situation.

“you don’t owe me anything. just glad you’re okay.” he shakes his head slightly, his tone as practical as ever.

his words are simple, but the sincerity behind them warms you in a way you didn’t expect. as he heads toward the door, you find yourself hesitating, not ready for him to leave just yet.

“wait.” you say, your voice soft but enough to make him pause.

“yes?” he turns back to you, his expression neutral but attentive.

you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his steady gaze.

“um… would you want to stay for dinner? i was already planning to cook, and it’s the least i can do to thank you.”

his brows lift slightly, the faintest trace of surprise flickering across his face. he doesn’t respond immediately, and you rush to add-

“but no pressure! i just thought, you know, since you’re already here-”

“dinner sounds good. thank you.” his lips curve into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and he nods.

“great! it’s nothing fancy, but make yourself comfortable. i’ll get started.” you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a smile breaking across your face.

-

your apartment is dimly lit except for the spotlight on you. candles flicker on the table in the background, adding a sultry ambiance. you’ve carefully arranged the scene: soft blankets draped over the couch, pillows positioned just so, and your favorite playlist humming low in the background.

“honestly, honestly im trying to stay focused”

you press go live, the familiar rush of adrenaline hitting as the chat begins to populate almost instantly.

HOTGIRLHOTFUN. com

➤ YOU ARE NOW LIVE…

messages flood in almost immediately.

user123: she’s back !

xxhunter: finally, she’s live.

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: red’s your color, baby.

joshjnine: take that shit off we came for a show

you smirk at the screen, leaning forward slightly so the delicate strap of your top shifts just enough to tease. your nails, freshly painted to match your lingerie. click softly against the keyboard as you type a quick response.

“hi, babies. missed you.”

your voice follows the words as you say them aloud, smooth and low, letting the sound wrap around the airwaves. the chat explodes in response, and you take a moment to enjoy the attention, the way they hang onto your every word, every move.

“i just need some dick, i just need some love”

you shift back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other slowly, deliberately, the soft fabric of your robe brushing against your skin. your curls fall over one shoulder as you tilt your head, giving the camera just the right angle.

“so-” you begin, your tone teasing, taunting the viewers. “what are we getting into tonight?”

the chat scrolls faster than you can read, but certain comments catch your eye:

xxhunter: put her on camera pls

user567: i’d do anything to be there with you right now

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: take off the bra

darkprince: spin for us, baby. let us see everything.

“girls can't never say they want it, girls can't never say how”

you chuckle softly, letting the sound linger as you rise from the couch. the robe slips from your shoulders as you stand, pooling at your feet like water.

“you want to see everything?” you ask, your tone playful, as you turn slowly, letting your body move with the rhythm of the music.

“girls can't never say they need it, girls can't never say now, oh, now”

the camera captures every curve, every angle, and you know exactly what you’re doing. the confidence feels electric, sparking through your veins as the chat fills with messages. compliments, requests, declarations of love.

but beneath it all, there’s a small, nagging thought in the back of your mind. ever since the last stream, you’ve been extra cautious. the blinds are drawn tightly, the mail hidden away, the camera carefully positioned to avoid any unwanted slips.

still, you can’t help but glance at the corner of your screen every few minutes, double-checking that everything is as it should be. the viewers don’t notice, of course. all they see is you, commanding their attention with every glance, every sway of your hips.

you move closer to the camera, leaning in so your face fills the frame, your lips curving into a slow, inviting smile.

“tell me what you want tonight,” you purr, your voice dripping with honey. “i’m all yours.”

one comment in particular catches your eye.

nknt0: strip, slow.

catching your glossed lip in between your teeth, you hum. crouching down to get on your knees, breast spilling a little over the cup of your bra as you go on fours. crawling to the laptop, your fingers click against the keys.

“then i think we should get a different song on here. any requests?”

your eyes scan the rushed chat, only scanning for one name in particular. the pink screen shines brightly, adding more luminance to your makeup.

then.

nknt0: pussy fairy.

without a second thought, you type the songs name into spotify, slicking play.

“i know you like fucking me, i can tell by the way you in love with me”

standing from the position, you back up enough to have your full body in frame. reaching on the table? your hand grabs hold of shimmering body oil. twisting this cap off, you casually take a few drops into your hand. rubbing the liquid across your chest, dipping your hand in to get your perky buds.

“you can’t get enough of me, well i guess it’s lookin like you stuck with me”

turning your back towards the camera, you look over your shoulder. eyes the only thing visible to them as you pull down one bra strap, sliding your arm through the hoop, you repeat on the other side. your fingers fiddle in the back, with a pout on your lips, you turn around. the bra only being held up by the clamps in the back. you obviously knew how to remove your bra, but for the sake of duration and money, you exaggerate.

“i wish one of you could help me take this thing off, babies.” your tone was nothing short of seductive.

“oh! got it.”

with one swift motion, the flimsy fabric falls to the floor. deciding to sit on the couch instead, you reposition the laptop.

“fuck all yo free time, you don’t need no me time, that’s you and me time”

plopping down on the cheetah print blanket, on your back, head still turned towards the chat. your hands run over your body softly, drawing out slight gasps and moans as your fingers run over your hardened nipples. you take hold of one of your breast, teasing the bud, running one hand down your abdomen to the inside of your underwear.

“we be getting so long that dick make my soul smile, that dick make me so damn proud”

fingers slip inside the tight hole, causing you to arch your back a little. collecting the slick that pooled in the red lace panties, you remove your hand slowly, twisting your body over to show the camera how slippery your middle and ring fingers were.

xxhunter: fuck

user567: lick them clean

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: you’re such a nasty girl

k1nklover sent $250! ‘put them in your mouth’

darkprince: you’re so fucking hot, i wish my gf looked like you

userano321: let me come eat that pussy

kimgofmacity: she feeling it tonight ig lmao

barbbigb: icon icon icon legendary

nknt0: stop fucking playing with me

your eyes widen at the last comment, smirk building across your lips. without a second thought, you place the coated fingers into your mouth, humming at the taste.

“should i use a toy tonight?” the chat continues at the same frantic speed.

“if someone sends $400 you have a deal. or i can just keep playing with my nipples for the next thirty min-“

before you could get the rest of your sentence out.

nknt0 sent $400! ‘do it’

k1nklover sent $400! ‘put them in your mouth’

you reach beside the laptop, grabbing hold of the pink bunny shaped vibrator. placing the toy beside you, laying back on the couch, you push the laptop back with your toes, giggling as the viewers freak out. playing with your boobs, your slowly run your hands down the dip of your waist, fingers grabbing hold of the thin fabric. you twist, bending over in front of the camera, pulling down the panties. you feel the cool air hit your exposed cunt, the arousal dripping down your leg. reaching over to take the toy, from behind you tease your throbbing hole.

the main section of the toy runs up and down the opening. sliding in fully once, you let out a louder moan, other hand grabbing hold of the blanket. fucking the toy in and out of your sloppy cunt, moans slipping from your lips at the traction.

sitting back down, you use your coffee table to prop your legs up, dripping pussy on display to the whole stream. fingers click against the buttons at the white base of the toy. the vibrations run chills up your body, accentuating your nipple from the ripple. the ‘ears’ of the bunny press against the side of your swollen clit as you push the toy inside of you.

nanami watches. he watches as you slip the pale pink toy in and out of your hole. watching intensely as you fall apart, eyes glossed and low. your other hand grazes your titties, playing gently with them while the other abused your pussy.

a ring of white began forming around the base of the dildo. the sounds of your moans filled his airpods, dick growing harder for you with every thrust.

it should be him. he should be there right now, fucking you in front of all 10 thousand people. letting them see you crumble under his touch. watching as he pounds you down on his length, giving you several orgasms before he finishes inside you.

he couldn’t take it. he wanted to storm down to your apartment, bang on the door, and take you right there.

pulling the toy out, your body shakes in stimulation, clear liquid shooting out of you. moans rack your body as you reinsert the toy, still going. tears threatened to spill from your eyes, too blurry to focus on anything the chat was saying. instead just hearing the money sound from viewers sending funds.

you’re too caught up in fucking yourself, you barely hear the knock at your door. it comes once more before you realize you’re not overthinking.

“shit.” you mutter under your breath, scrambling to turn off the stream, tossing the toy under the couch. the chat is still scrolling, messages coming in fast, but you barely glance at them as you close your laptop.

the knock comes again, louder this time, and panic sets in. you look down at yourself, soaked in squirt and cum, oil everywhere. you couldnt slip on the see through robe, grabbing the blanket instead and wrap it around yourself as you hurry to the door.

“who is it?” you call out, your voice a little shaky.

“it’s nanami.” comes the deep, familiar voice from the other side.

your stomach flips. of all people, why him? you glance at the room, making sure nothing incriminating is in view, then tighten the blanket around yourself before unlocking the door.

when you open it, his presence fills the doorway, tall and broad, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. his eyes flicker over you briefly, taking in the blanket, the faint sheen of sweat on your skin, before settling on your face.

“nanami?” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “what- what are you doing here?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his jaw working as if he’s trying to find the right words. finally, he speaks, his tone low and tense.

“was.. bored at my place. was wonder if you wanted to hang but if you’re busy-“ he eyes scan your portly covered body. he could still easily see through the thin blanket you tried to hide behind with help from your ring light.

“um yeah sure just let me put on something different. come in!”

the tall framed man slips in beside you, eyes daring to fall back on your body as you shuffled past to your room. he walks over to your couch, taking a seat on the other side of where you just sat. he couldn’t help but stare at the black laptop, finger tapping a little at his lip before reaching for the device.

just as he knew. the pink tab sat open, chat still rolling as he peered at the amount sitting in your counter.

➤ YOU HAVE EARNED 3.65KUSD FOR THIS STREAM SO FAR

his eyes widen, still watching as the count rises with every passing second. should he quit his job he spent all his life building for to do this?

“nanami? you okay in there?” you ask, shuffling for something decent to wear. deciding on a loose pair of shorts and a large football jersey.

“im good!” he responds, still scrolling around the site, being model of your camera placement.

darkprince: who the fucks the guy?

userano321: woah first cameo?

kimgofmacity: is that a dude?

nanami smiles a little before closing the laptop but not all the way. you rush from your room, makeup refreshed and wearing a new outfit. well, clothes in general. scanning the area, your heart sinks only to realize you didn’t see your bra under your glass coffee table.

“fuck.” you gasp a little.

“what’s up?” nanami asks, standing from his spot on the couch.

“uh, nothing, do you wanna go to yours?”

to be truthful, nanami had also seen the lace fabric. it was tearing him down to know you were a few feet in front of him and all he could do was stare.

“i thought we could, stay here? you have more shows to watch and i wouldn’t mind ordering us some food.”

you freeze, not sure how to act. your usual carefree attitude feels a little more strained tonight, the worry still there, lurking in the background.

“uh, I was thinking of something light. maybe a movie or some random series.”

“sounds good.” he replies, settling back into the couch.

but you can’t quite relax. you keep checking your phone, making sure there’s no notifications from your livestream, even though you know everything’s fine. it’s ridiculous, but the idea of him knowing about your streams—or worse, recognizing what you’d been doing, where you’ve been doing it. makes your stomach twist.

trying to brush it off, you grab the remote and start flicking through your streaming options, but your mind keeps wandering. the soft sound of nanami’s voice fills the air as he comments on some movie suggestions, but all you can think about is whether he’s noticed how

wet the spot he was touching was.

“you okay?” he tilts his head and catches your gaze, sensing something’s off.

you blink, caught off guard. “yeah, yeah. just- tired, sorry.”

“tired?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced.

“ i could go? im sorry for intruding on any-“ your hand grabs hold of his rather large forearm, pulling him back down.

“no! no i meant- sorry i didnt mean to yell. i mean stay, you’re here, i wanna hang with you.” he couldn’t help but stare down at your small frame being swallowed by the black jersey. sitting on the couch on both knees, batting your full lashes up at him. he licks his lips, hungry.

“okay. just let me know if you need me to go.”

“i want you here.” he plops back down on the couch, this time closer. the side of his body touching yours. you land on a psychological thriller while nanami decides to order food. the two of you bicker back and forth about what the plots twist could be.

“i think he’s actually the killer and the little girl isn’t actually possessed.” he munched on a steak bite smothered in sauce, you doing the exact same, dipping the meat into the small black container of sauce.

“that’s maybe the dumbest thing i’ve heard in awhile nami, are you sure you’re a lawyer?” the man scoffs before giving you a joking eye roll.

“for your information im like ten years older than you and i’ve been doing this for years.” he says matter-of-factly, pushing his empty container inside the cheep plastic bag, holding his hand out for your empty bowl.

“sorry, daddy, damn. forgot you were a senior citizen.”

his heart pumps at the nickname, all the blood rushing straight to his dick. shifting in his sweatpants, he coughs, relieving tension in his throat.

“oh shit- sorry i didnt mean to call you that.” your hand shoots to cover your mouth, sitting a little taller on your knees as they dig into the black cushion. the way your hand falls naively on his chest, apologies slipping through your lips. your blown out body waves create almost a curtain around your face as you sink back down to a sitting position. head hung low.

“say it again.” head shooting back up, vision being crowded by hair, you stare at the blonde man in shock.

“huh?” you mumble, watching as he stands from his position on the couch.

“did i stutter, yn? i said say it again, didn’t i?”

you can’t quite understand what got into the man but his eyes were different now. the way he adjusted the drawstrings to his pants. staring down at you, smirk covering his face, as if you were his prey.

“nanami what’s gotten into-“

he wastes no time reaching across the coffee table to grab the laptop. the stream continuing. your eyes flash from the screen to the man staring at you.

“that’s not mine.” he laughs, pushing it back so that both of you were in frame now.

“sure. what, do you think im actually fucking stupid? you don’t think i know what you were doing before you answered the door?”

your heart raced, mind scattered with excuses and explanations yet none stuck. would he tell your landlord this was the way you were making rent? did he want to use it as blackmail? why?

“what’re you doing this for?” you say softly, staring at the man who’s expression softened.

“what? baby no, im not weirded out or anything. ah- if im being honest, your last stream-“ you body shoots up from its spot on the couch, staring at the man in utter disbelief.

“you? found out where i live- you actually came to where i live? do you even really live here?” come to think of it, you’ve never actually seen him entering the apartment.

“yn. calm down. yes i actually live here, i can’t take you to mine if we need to. baby, come here.” you walk back cautiously. sitting with distance, he pulls you back over, throwing his arm around your waist. you watch on the stream, the comments start up again. his head dips between your head and shoulder, lips pressed softly against your neck.

“say my name again.”

“daddy.” you moan out, earning a rasp from the man before you’re flipped over on all fours on the couch. pulling down your shorts, his head dips down, admiring the still glossy view.

“no panties either, it’s like you wanted me, princess. am i right?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your core. your head plops on the side, viewing as your chat went belligerent.

“answer me pretty girl, am i right?” his tongue licks from your swollen clit up to your hole, grasping at air.

“yes, sir! please- please do that again!” tears prick your eyes, tension building under the surface as you try to keep your cool.

his somewhat cool tongue begins to pump in and out of you, sounds of friction filling the room. his large hands grab hold of your arms, pinning them behind you back as he continued to add spit into eating you.

he’s lost in sweet you are. how wet you were against his face. how the soft skin of your thighs cup his cheeks, nose right below your hole, poking at the foreign area. you tasted like heaven. the sweet slick drove him crazy, unable to pull away from any of it. he wanted to eat all of you, unapologetically.

“oh- fuck your tongue feels so- fuck!” a string of curses leave your lips. feeling the man’s tongue swirl around your swollen clit, almost folding you in half. his unoccupied hand starts to remove his sweatpants fully.

“im gonna cum, daddy.” you warn, vision blurring. he doesn’t answer, instead he continues to fuck his lengthy tongue into you. you release over the man’s mouth, body going limp. laughing, he pulls away.

“oh, you’re not done.”

-

your pink glossed lips wrap around the man’s tip, back arched on the couch. his hand held your hair back, watching as you try to fit all of him in your mouth, only to fall short before your gag reflex is triggered. vibrations from the man laughing draws a frown from you.

“what’s wrong, princess. can’t be up the shit you talk to them? try that with me. get on your knees.”

before you could process, you were on your knees in front of the man. he still had hold of your hair, looking down at you. erens eyes dart up at the chat

xxhunter: make her choke on your cock

user567: train her throat

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: how tf did he get to fuck her before me, this shits lame now.

randobando: i wish i was both of them

eren begins to gently lower your head down his length, watching as you try your hardest to go all the way down his massive cock, tears pricking at your eyes.

“stick your tongue out, baby. say ahh.” you follow the directions, throat vibrating. although it felt strange, it was working. your head bobbed up and down, slowly gaining more.

with low and red eyes, you look up at the man. he’s lost in a haze, enjoying how your throat was closing around him. eyes roll to the back of his head as you speed up, adding both your hands around him.

“oh my fucking god, you’re so good at this.” head falling back onto the couch, you hum, continuing to tease his swollen tip with your tongue. drawing your name on it in spit.

“lay on your back.” without hesitation you follow his orders, laying on your back. he hovers over you, taking both feet, giving your white polished toes kisses before throwing them over his shoulders.

without hesitation, you’re full of the man. gasping at how far open you were being stretched, youd never had anything like this before. your nails seek solace on the man’s back, dragging ruby red lines down his torso. his starts slow, digging into your g-spot, getting a feel of how far he could actually take you.

his strokes slow yet unforgiving, gummy walls trying to keep his length inside as he pulled out. your arousal covered his dick, creating loud slap,slap,slap! sounds.

“so fucking sweet, knew you would be.” his head cocks to the side, admiring his view. you fucked out under him, tears falling from the squinted corners of your eyes.

“im gonna cum, baby!” you warn, the burning sensation running circles around your insides. you could feel his pace quicken, trying to get every bit of a reaction. it’s like he was locked in a trance, unable to stop abusing your puffy cunt. his rhythm never faltered as he drilled into you, pressing your body deeper into the couch.

“me too- fuck.” as if on que, you both finish at the same time, bodies dropping from exhaustion. and whatever in the moment possessed you, you take hold of the males jaw, interlocking your lips together.

nanami wastes no time leaning over to the laptop, letting you wave a weak ‘bye’ to your viewers before sliding back onto the couch, placing his lips back on yours.

“wanna go again?”

➤ YOU HAVE EARNED 10.61KUSD FOR THIS STREAM.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

[itsthecline]

WONDERING WHY

0.1 BOYFRIEND

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary omit ( verb. ) to leave out or exclude someone / something , either intentionally or forgetfully

word count 4k

warnings our girl is lowkey a brat but i think that’s it other than christian!reader , kook!reader , classism , and allusions to a bad previous relationship

previous chapter

a/n i ended up writing a bunch for this series already , and so here’s the first actual chapter relatively quick after the prologue post:)

THURSDAY MORNINGS usually meant you could sleep in a little later— closer to nine than eight. today , however , you were up at six to get ready for your packed day. you texted jj , reminding him to be here at ten o’clock sharp. no later.

you filled your morning with a jog around the neighborhood , helping your mother make breakfast , and dropping your younger sister off at her friend’s house for a girls day they were having. after that , you had to— for your own sake , go over the checklist of meetings and dinners that you needed to attend before midsummers one more time.

by the time 9:30 rolled around , you were dressed and ready to go down to the tailor for your first fitting. you checked your phone again , seeing if jj had even read your text yet. delivered. maybe he didn’t have his read receipts on.

he’d be here. he’d show up.

that was all you could really tell yourself.

on the other side of the island , jj was just waking up. he jolted awake , face indented from the way he fell asleep on the pillows the night before. he reached over for his phone , looking to see what time it was.

the screen didn’t light up. he quickly shuffled , hand fumbling down the charger cord to see it had been unplugged from the wall. “fuck!” he cursed , shoving himself up from the bed and rushing down the stairs.

“yo , what time is it?” he shouted , hoping one of his many friends would answer him. they all looked over their shoulders from the living room , seeing the blonde stumble around , yanking his clothes and boots on.

“its like quarter to ten,” pope called back out , looking down at his watch.

“fuckkkk!” jj groaned , grabbing the keys to the van, “i’m late! takin’ the twinkie!” he announced , shoving through the front door and bounding down the porch steps. he didn’t even bother to close the door on the way out , instead just hopping behind the van’s wheel and peeling off to figure eight.

kie came around the corner , a couple of water bottles for her friends. “what was that about?” she hummed , looking out the open door.

“he has that thing with the pastor’s kid,” john b answered with a smug smile , grabbing the bottle being held out to him, “he told us ‘bout it yesterday , remember?”

“ohhh , yeah!” kie mused , mind replaying yesterday’s events at the wreck, “she’s cute.”

“she’s also way too polite for jj,” sarah laughed , stealing the water from her husband, “i mean , i remember her from school , and she was just so shy. kept to herself and all that.”

pope shook his head , swallowing down more of his cereal, “nah , they used to be friends way back when though.”

“what?” the girls all gasped.

“rude boy was friends with that shy thing from kie’s parents’ place?” cleo asked , only just ‘meeting’ you yesterday but still as invested.

pope and john b nodded together , recalling a time before high school when jj would skip out on their hangouts to do something with you. ‘family friend , guys. i feel bad,’ he’d lie to them , getting out of whatever they had planned to spend time with you instead.

the group continued theorizing what jj was helping you with , not getting the complete story from him the day before. all the while he was speeding across the island to get to your door before it was ten o’clock. his blue eyes kept darting to the dashboard’s clock , seeing his time run out faster and faster. 9:57 , and he was just now getting to figure eight.

“mom , if jj shows up , will you tell him i’m sick?” you asked quietly , walking into the kitchen where she was working on her laptop.

she peered up at you over her glasses. “jj maybank , your boyfriend?” she smiled , patting for you to sit next to her in the breakfast nook as she was still over the moon from your news earlier in the week, “what’s he coming over to do?”

“he’s not invited anymore,” you corrected her , resting your chin on her shoulder as you looked at her computer screen. it was a spreadsheet , an itinerary for the next weeks approaching midsummers. “he’s late , so i’m upset.”

“well , you can’t blame him , hon,” your mother cooed at you, “he’s probably on the way. give him more than two minutes.” you held back from rolling your eyes at her soft spot for the boy after all of these years. after all of the tears she wiped away from your cheeks when you were fourteen.

“will you tell him i’m sick?” you pleaded again , pulling at the sleeves of her robe like a little kid.

she pressed a kiss to your forehead and tutted at you. “no , baby. we don’t lie in this house,” she answered , going back to typing and organizing on her laptop.

you huffed and pushed yourself out of the booth , straighten out your skirt. “fine , but i’m not happy about this,” you whined , beginning to walk out of the kitchen.

her voice called out your name again as she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of you. you stopped , turning to face her expectantly. “i think it’s a good thing you chose to give him a second chance.”

“yeah,” you sighed , guilt boiling in your gut , ignoring her knowing smile before walking to the front door. you’d just have to go to the fitting by yourself.

as you stepped outside , you could hear the rattle of a car nearing you from the street. it was loud enough to get your attention , telling you whoever was driving was going far too fast for the residential area. next thing you know , the beat up van you knew as john b’s twinkie was pulling into your driveway.

your hand raised above your sight line , blocking the sun so you could glare at jj. “didn’t get my twelve texts?” you asked him , watching as he practically fell out of the van upon his arrival which caused your embarrassment from the amount of times you tried contacting him to simmer.

“i’m sorry! my phone never got plugged in , s’my alarm didn’t go off. the damn twinkie gave out a couple blocks away , and i had to start ‘er back up—“ jj huffed out before you decided to just get in your car. he watched you , already feeling your disappointment.

you rolled down the passenger window , leaning over. “get in , please? we’re late,” you spoke , like you had already forgiven him , which you had. you saw how he was out of breath and the fresh grease stains on his fingers. it wasn’t his fault he was late.

jj ripped the door open , flopping into the passenger seat before buckling up. “where we headed , angel?” he asked you , already poking around in the car’s abundance of compartments.

“the tailor. we have to get you measured for your tux,” you simply answered , backing out of your driveway, “and i have to get re-measured too.”

jj nodded , chewing at his lip , and he couldn’t help but feel like you were giving him the cold shoulder. he was only eight minutes late. but maybe he just didn’t know you anymore. you spoke so much differently than you did from when you were kids , your voice clearer , more affirming. it sounded more like this was a business deal than an old friend doing an old friend a favor.

“it’s kinda like you’re my sugar momma for the next couple’a weeks,” jj chuckled to lighten to mood as you drive through the town’s center , eyeing all of the nice shops he never went to. it’s not like he wanted , but it was another reminder how differently you two grew up from each other.

you scoffed over your small laugh. “i guess so. in a weird way , yeah,” you agreed lightly , finding a parking spot right in front of the business you were going to, “just make sure to use your manners , please. katherine is friends with my dad and a huge gossip.”

“oh , yes , ma’am,” jj saluted you, “i will be prim and proper just for you , m’lady.” he got out of the car as you let out a shaky breath. you followed shortly after , seeing he was already holding the door open. “c’mon , you said we’re in a rush!”

you nudged him with your elbow when you stepped inside the small store. “i only said that so you’d hurry up. we don’t even have an appointment,” you admitted with a chuckle , picking up a pen at the front desk to sign in.

jj’s jaw dropped , letting out a gasp. “miss goodie-two-shoes lied?” he whisper yelled , hand coming to his heart, “is the world ending?”

“hush up,” you bit back , moving about the store as he followed you around like a lost puppy. he wasn’t about to go snooping around figure eight. he didn’t want to deal with it any more than he’d already agreed to.

“y/n! ah , so wonderful to see you , honey!” katherine’s shrill voice echoed through the building as she rushed to the front with her hands high and wide. you barely had time to smile back at her before she yanked you in for a hug. “you know , i’ve been waiting for your behind to get in here for your measurements for weeks!” she cried , guiding you to the back , not even sparing your blonde companion a second glance. you did though , catching jj standing there awkwardly in the front of the store.

“katherine , this is jj,” you interrupted her chatter , stopping to reach back and grab the boy’s hand, “i called about getting him set up with a tux for midsummers?”

katherine’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she took in who you were holding onto. “jj maybank…” she hummed , knowing exactly the reputation he and his father carried around, “i didn’t realize he was your plus one this year.”

you could hear the condescension in her voice , and by the tightening grip on your delicate hand , you knew jj could too. “well , he’s my boyfriend so…” you trailed off , waiting for katherine to just do her job and stop being like every other kook on the island. you never understood why your father considered her such a close friend. she was snippy and fake , and it was clear to you since the day you met.

“oh!” she smiled, “well come on back.” she turned to lead you both to the fitting areas , calling out her husband’s name to help out with jj’s measurements.

“boyfriend?” jj whispered to you , still holding your hand.

“didn’t i mention that?” you played dumb , knowing very well you left that little piece of information out yesterday when you got him to accept the deal.

“no , angel,” he shook his head , pulling you to a stop, “that’s like five hangouts worth! i only agreed because it was supposed to be one night of helpin’ ya out! and now you’re tellin’ me i gotta pretend to be your boyfriend too?” your hand reached up to cover jj’s mouth , looking around to make sure no one heard you.

“can we talk later?” you asked him , pleading eyes that begged him to leave it be for now.

but jj just scoffed , dropping your hand and flipping the curtain out of the way to follow after katherine.

YOU HADN’T heard a peep from the men’s parlor. katherine had been chatting in your ear the entire time she measured you , talking about everyone and everything. she mentioned having your family over to her house for dinner soon , which you made a mental note to bring up to your father when you got home later.

but you couldn’t help but think about jj behind the thick , velvet curtain. you heard katherine’s husband muttering every once in awhile , but never jj’s voice. was he actually mad at you? it was all pretend , and it would end right after midsummers. what was the big deal? he had done far worse things to you than omit some facts.

after long enough , katherine decided you didn’t even need to come in at all. “measurements are the same as last year , darling. you wasted your time here today,” she declared , sending the bill to your father’s account all while sending you an underlying message.

you shouldn’t have brought that maybank kid here.

“well , jj needed to get fitted too,” you smiled sweetly, “no harm done by comin’ in.” you were always deemed a nice girl. you were a nice girl , but there was only so much hidden snottiness you could deal with from certain people before becoming just as passive aggressive as them. “i’m actually going to go check on him,” you spoke , already turning to head back his way.

“she tells me we’re dating out of the blue , man! i don’t know what she was thinking , but she’s outta her mind!” you could finally hear jj’s cadence followed by marcus’ belly laugh.

“women,” he chuckled, “i’ll tell you right now , it doesn’t get any better. happy wife , happy life. get used to it , kid,” he advised the younger man , patting his shoulders before letting him know they were all done.

you stepped through the curtain , ignoring the tinge of hurt jj’s words caused in your heart while the metal loops glided across the curtain rod to announce your presence. “let’s go , jj.” you held your hand out to him , not giving him an option of taking his time. he could tell from the way your neck was stiff that something had upset you , so he wasted no time yanking his jeans back on. he didn’t want to be the reason for your cold attitude again. at least not for the rest of the day.

you dragged him out of the store , not sparing katherine a goodbye. you got in the car , buckling up as jj did the same before driving off in silence. it wasn’t long before you were driving through the streets of figure eight , being the only car on the road.

jj was poking around your glove compartment again , flipping through the owner’s manual to fill the car ride. he jumped and dropped the book to the floorboards when you let out a scream. he jolted and look over at you , watching the way your face nearly turned red from the air you were expelling from your body.

“yo , yo!” he shouted at you.

you took a deep breath , closing your eyes when you came to a stop sign. “sorry,” you mumbled , catching your breath still, “i just really , really dislike katherine! she’s so mean and snotty and two-faced! like , she was makin’ comments the entire time just poking at me!” you ranted , not caring that jj just saw you let out a scream you’d been holding in for about a week, “and don’t get me started on all of her implications about you.”

jj was still taken aback , not too sure what to say. he’d never seen you unravel like that before. he’d never thought you could. “um— well , at least we got it outta the way…” he tried to help the situation.

“yeah,” you nodded breathlessly , beginning to drive again like nothing had happened.

after a few more minutes of awkward silence , jj decided to speak up again , not forgetting what you tabled earlier. “boyfriend , huh?”

you sighed. you had forgotten about the conversation you still needed to have with him , so blinded by your frustrations. “yeah , so maybe my parents assumed that when i told them i had a date for midsummers last week , it was a boyfriend? and maybe i happened to leave that out when asking you to come with me?”

“oh , really?” jj feigned surprised, “i didn’t notice!”

“i’m sorry!” you cried, “but my dad wouldn’t stop bothering me about a date and then it all snowballed.” the pitch in your voice and pout in your lips made jj frown for a moment before focusing.

“i didn’t agree to playing house , princess,” jj reminded you , and your stomach dropped.

you pulled into the driveway , parking the car before shifting to look at him. “are you mad at me? you’re still gonna come to midsummers , right?” you needed him to say yes.

jj thought about it , not giving you any idea if he was backing out now or not. “five— no , six hangouts , and you have to come to a kegger,” he decided , nodding to himself. he felt like it was fair enough. if he would have to prance around figure eight as your arm candy for the next two weeks , you would have to start experiencing some of the cut. it was only right. a true balance he thought.

“but i don’t—“

“ah , ah ah!” he interrupted you , pressing a finger to your lips, “you’re not really in a position to negotiate , princess. i’m callin’ the shots now. if you want me to be your fake boyfriend for two weeks , i want you to start tagging along with the pogues. if not , you can just forget this whole thing.”

you stared at jj still surprised he touched your mouth. “i—“ you sighed , sitting back against your seat, “fine , but i’m not drinking or smoking or nothing.” you crossed your arms over your chest , making it clear you weren’t about to be pushed around on this anymore.

and he didn’t know why , but jj grinned. he knew this would all probably fall apart and cause a few problems— it was just what usually happened when he was involved in schemes , but he was excited. it would give him something to do for the next few weeks.

“pleasure doin’ business with ya , angel,” he smirked , climbing out of your car. he bent over , leaning down to the window. “now don’t just go around tellin’ everyone i’m taking your virginity or nothin’ either. i’ll play boyfriend , but i won’t have everyone thinking i’m corrupting father y/l/n’s precious daughter.”

your face crinkled up at jj’s words before you rolled up the window he was in. “excuse me?” you gasped , getting out of the car and rushing around to his side before smacking at him.

he laughed , blocking himself from the rapid but weak hits from your little purse. “i’m kidding!” he cackled , knowing it was a risky joke , but he had taken far greater risks with less rewards than pushing your buttons.

“you are so dirty , jj!” you huffed , getting one last thwack in at him, “maybe i’ll find a different date.”

“good luck with that,” jj breathed out , taking a step back in case you swung the bag at him again, “no one will put up with that little attitude of yours.”

“i do not have an attitude!” you argued back , flicking a few hairs out of your face, “you just make nasty comments.”

“jj , come on. we’re leaving!” he mimicked you , using his girl voice and waving his hands around, “that don’t sound familiar?” he questioned , hands on his hips after his performance.

you rolled your eyes , seeing that it probably wasn’t too far off. you weren’t blind to the fact that you were a little stuck up. it was never nasty or hateful , but you demanded a certain level of perfection from nearly everything in your life. “whatever , i don’t sound like that,” you finally spoke up , avoiding jj’s gaze, “thank you for showing up today.”

“you’re welcome , princess,” he smiled back , glad you were finally taking a joke, “i’ll text you whenever we’re gonna hangout,” he added with a thumbs up sent your way before hopping back into the twinkie. you watched him drive off before slipping back into your house.

jj couldn’t help but beat his thumb on the steering wheel to the radio’s tune , chuckling a little as he drove through the stop sign you were just screaming at. he’d missed so much of your life , that he hadn’t really gotten a good idea of who you were now. you were still girly and spoiled , but you were funnier than before— a natural humor that took control of your words and behaviors every now and then.

but then jj remembered why you were no longer friends , and his demeanor shifted , pissed off at himself for even saying yes yesterday to begin with. he knew this wouldn’t end well. john b said that last night after jj went to him about the situation too.

it was a disaster just waiting to happen.

hell , you were probably only doing this whole act to piss off your dad while still giving him what he wanted. the idea alone keyed jj up , feeling used now when he hadn’t thought to be before.

“yo , john!” he shouted , stomping into the house.

the brunette popped out from the living room , hardly moving from his position earlier when jj had left. “yes?” john b replied carefully , watching as jj kicked his boots off , clearly frustrated by something. he assumed it had to do with you , but had no idea what you could’ve done in two hours.

jj moved through the house , heading up to his room , hearing his friend follow him up. “you really think i’m gonna fall for that shit like i did last time?” he finally asked after shutting the door. he didn’t need any extra ears hearing his conversation.

john b furrowed his brows. what had you done to him? in two hours? “i don’t know , man. what happened today?” he joined his blonde friend on the bed , getting comfortable.

“so not only do i have to go to this fucking kook festival , right?” jj began , hearing john b’s quiet ‘you agreed to that’ but continuing to rant, “now i have to pretend to be her boyfriend! because she fuckin’ told her parents ‘bout dating me!”

“she what?” john b cracked up , not able to hold back his laughter just to spare jj some dignity, “why the hell would she do that? doesn’t her dad hate you or something?”

“yeah!” jj scoffed , silently thanking his friend for understanding.

“okay , but her mom loves you,” john b added , deciding he’d play devil’s advocate.

“yeah,” jj nodded , seeing the point, “but we haven’t spoken in years , and now she’s all like ‘be my fake boyfriend’ and ‘go to the prom with me’ and shit!” parroting your voice like he had done in your driveway.

it wasn’t the time , but john b kept chuckling at his friend. “man , i think you’re reading too deep into it. she needed a favor. you’re helping her out. that’s all,” he reasoned , sitting up in the bed now, “i know i told you to be wary , but i didn’t mean get paranoid. don’t get your panties in a twist because you have problems and she doesn’t.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” jj questioned , not expecting john b to turn on him. sarah or kie maybe. cleo and pope definitely , but not him.

john b sighed , rolling his eyes at how oblivious his friend was. “you’ve got residual shit coming up right now pretending to be some kook’s boyfriend , dude. you’re gonna have to handle that shit before you take it out on y/n. she seems nice enough to not fuck you over like camille,” he calmly explained , standing to leave, “besides it’s all fake anyway.” the boy simply patted jj’s shoulder before exiting the room , leaving jj to process his words alone with the name he tried his best to forget swirling in his mind on a loop.

meanwhile , back at your house , your sister had brought her friend over upon hearing certain details about your life she wanted to ask you about. you didn’t even make it up the stairs to your room before bella and her friend , olivia , were harassing you.

“why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend is jj? why didn’t you tell me you have a boyfriend?” bella shrieked in your ear , barging into your room after you. you sighed , tossing your purse onto your vanity before turning to face her.

“i didn’t tell you because it’s not your business,” you explained softly, “it’s not a big deal. i didn’t even want to tell mom and dad,” you admitted.

“wait— why not?” olivia wondered , sitting down on your bed with you and your sister.

“well , jj isn’t exactly dad’s favorite person,” you began , getting comfortable. you didn’t mind the intrusion from the younger girls. you actually enjoyed their company , so you had no problem telling them all about your errand with jj.

“but he’s sooo cute!” olivia whined , annoyed that you were so adamant about not actually liking him like that after you told them about the whole ruse.

“and he was always really nice to me,” bella added to their case. they were currently trying to convince you to really date him , even after telling them he never liked you like that.

you laughed at their interest but shook your head. “no , i don’t think i’ll ever actually date jj maybank,” you whispered , letting the words sink in. this was all fake. it was a favor. nothing more. you had to keep remembering that , or everything would fall apart , and you’d be stuck in high school , craving his attention all over again.

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @dcllhearts @snowtargaryen

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝.

you and sonic cuddle up in a flower field.

A SIDE • B SIDE

☂︎ wc. 750

☂︎ a/n. sorry for the all lowercase, i didnt care too much to capitalize while writing (wont happen again, i promise!) im a little rusty when it comes to writing for sonic, sorry if they’re ooc

“oh, hey! hey!” your head switches itself out of its meditative state at the sudden calling of your name. an extremely enthusiastic voice chirps out from above you, and you feel their shadow enveloping your body, hiding you away from the moonlight. “‘didn’t expect to see you here!” instinct tells you to rip open your vision to see your new visitor, but you brush off that instinct with a small smile. “what’re you doing out so late, huh?” you could say the same thing for him, but a twinge of giddiness hits your heart at the thought of him taking the time to go look for you. your mouth stays shut despite your fluttering thoughts.

the flower petals you lay on brush past your cheeks, ripped off by the light breeze as they flow right past you. it’s not hard at all to guess who's speaking to you, so you keep your eyes closed, but greet him anyway.

ever so cheerful, he is. you never get sick of it, for even a moment.

“i was wondering where you were. what, you don’t feel like coming home yet?” his gloved hand pokes into your cheek, snickering as your brows furrow at the interruption of your daydream. unbeknownst to you, he’s admiring you. every little feature. from your eyes, to your nose, your lips, and back up again to go over things he might’ve missed. but he’ll never tell you that.

“are you feelin’ lonely?” it must be him coming up with excuses to spend time with you, definitely. “want some company?” and he knows deep down that's not the exact question he wants to ask. his hearts telling him to ask something else, something more intimate.

“can i stay with you, just like this?” yes, that sounds right; what he really wants to tell you. but his lips stay sealed as he waits for your answer, foot tapping impatiently on the flower-filled ground, yet his pace slows once he realizes that he could be trampling more flowers than he’d like.

your lips part to utter words of agreement to his question, but before you can even vocalize it, his weights already pushed up against you, laughing without a care in the world at your unpleasant reaction to his sudden showcase of affection. your eyes flicker open to cast your gaze on him, and he meets it rather quickly, looking into your eyes with a smile that spreads from cheek to cheek. after a few seconds of silence, his expression softens itself, and you bring your hand to press on his lower back, bringing him closer to the point of his chest pressing against your side. he seems to settle into your touch well.

“hey, come on.” sonic’s demeanor softens as he snuggles against you, “i came over to bring you home. you know that, right?” his tails wagging, unable to hide the pure joy he feels in your presence. “but if you wanna stay outside so bad…” he lets in a huff of air, sighing softly against your neck. his warm breath sends shivers up your spine, forcing an involuntary flinch out of you. he grins cheekily at the sight, enjoying your flustered smile.

sonic rises to his knees, his hand reaching over to press on your waist as he gazes down at the sight of you enveloped in flowers. “hey-” he starts, but stops himself once he realizes how beautiful you really do look, not that he had any doubt. but the mere sight makes him feel dizzy. he clears his throat before trying again.

“hey, remember the first time i brought you here?” he says. “pretty romantic, huh?” his eyes seem to twinkle even in the dead of night, his spirit still set alight even if everything else is shrouded in darkness.

that’s the sonic you fell in love with.

his smile slowly drops as the silence permeates between you two, confused at your wordless gaze into his features. his ear flicks as he waits for a response, but all you do is nod to keep the silence. through mutual adoration, you both stay like that for a while. there's practically love in the air.

“are you challenging me to a staring contest?” he chirps, and the romance between you two dies out instantly with the sounds of your shared laughter, a melody perfectly crafted by the both of you, mixing with one another's perfectly. even the smallest of moments with him feel so huge, a shared scrapbook of sweet affection and love stuck in both of your heads.

something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

[spnbabe67]

Just a Note

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a little spicyness, mentions of injuries

Summary: When you start receiving little notes around the Bunker, you go on a hunt trying to find your secret admirer.

Word Count: 1600

Authors Note: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa for @kazsrm67. This also fulfills squares for @jacklesversebingo and @anyfandomgoesbingo Happy Holidays everyone!

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Secret Admirer

Any Fandom Goes Bingo Prompt: Head Wound

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @king-of-milf-lovers

It started out as sticky notes placed strategically in places across the Bunker where only you would find them: on the mirror in your room, or on the stack of books you kept sequestered to a table in the corner of the library room. Various colors of square paper with little compliments, albeit a little awkward, scrawled across them. The first time you’d found one, a blue square tucked into the cubby where you kept your bug-out bag in the armory, you’d been caught off guard. The neon, stark against the muted brown and black and grey tones, had caught your eye as you went about replacing and checking the supplies you kept within your duffel. You plucked the paper from where it was nestled amongst the various weapons and supplies kept within, sitting in wait for the next hunt. As you gingerly pulled the sticky note from your bag, you noticed the scrawling words written across it in black ink. 

You look sharper than these knives.

Your head cocked to the side, face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Was that meant to be a compliment? More importantly, who was it from? Aside from yourself, Sam and Dean both took up permanent residence in the Men of Letters Bunker. Charlie, your childhood best friend and the person who introduced you to the Winchester brothers and the hunting world in general also lived here 90% of the time. It could be here playing one of her many pranks. A few other hunters used this place as refuge between hunts or came here for the endless trove of supernatural knowledge archived within its walls. You’d even convinced Dean, despite his best efforts to ignore your pleas, to host a couple seminars and training sessions for newer (and seasoned) hunters using the knowledge you and Sam spent hours upon hours organizing. 

“When I was first introduced to this world, I wish I’d had this kind of training available to me,” You’d reasoned with him one day in the kitchen. “I’d have a lot less scars and a lot less near death experiences if I had.”

The eldest Winchester, whom you’d grown close to in the months you’d worked with him, Sam, and the cabal of supernatural beings that they considered friends or at the very least occasional allies, leaned against the island with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Sweetheart.” Dean placated you, setting his mug on the counter. “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s more to it than just puttin’ flyers on the street. How would we even advertise somethin’ like this?” 

You shrugged. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

And figure it out he had. With the help of Charlie and Sam, the four of you managed to create a strategically worded ad, spreading it to known hunters who would even be remotely interested. It had spread like wildfire from there. So it was very possible one of the hunters passing through had put it in your bag. Even that explanation didn’t quite fit, but at the time it was a one-off, a fluke to never happen again.

That was until another one showed up. You’d taken a blow to the head when a rogue shifter slammed you back into a wall, knocking you unconscious. Blearily you opened your eyes to the dim light of the Bunker’s infirmary. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head as you looked around. The room was kept mostly dark save for a lamp in the corner. I must have a concussion, you thought as you sat up, the crisp white sheets crumpled on your lap. You had reached over to check the clock on the table next to the bed when you saw yet another Post-it stuck to the top of it. The paper was red this time, but the writing held the same characteristics of the first one. 

You take my breath away.

Your eyes must have read the sentence a hundred times over, wracking your brain trying to figure out who in the Hell is leaving you these messages. Some rational part of you whispered there were really only two options. Sam or Dean. You knew it wasn’t Sam; your relationship with the younger brother was strictly familial. You’d never seen him as anything other than a younger brother, despite his protests that he was only 6 months younger than you. 

Dean on the other hand was a different story. Sometimes he acted like you were another younger sibling for him to be responsible for, other times the tension between the two of you could be cut with the dullest knife. Lingering eyes as the three of you changed between or after hunts, his fingers trailing over your hair and tucking it behind your ear when he assumed you were dead asleep. You’d be lying if he was the only one giving mixed signals. It made sense. To anyone who didn’t know him, Dean was a casanova, a womanizer who took what he wanted and offered nothing. And sure, maybe he was that way in his early 20’s, but life and the work of a hunter had taken a toll on him. So while you and Sam partook in one night stands, it was Dean who usually ended the night alone. 

You found the notes enduring, actually, and very in character for him. So from that moment in the infirmary, you compiled the notes and the occasional small gifts left for you. Once you were sure it was, in fact, Dean showering you in corny one liners and sweet nothings, you hatched a plan. You figured there were a couple ways to go about it. One: confront him head on, which he very well might deny all together in embarrassment. Two: let the notes continue to pile up, hopefully bottlenecking Dean into coming to you personally. Or three: beat him at his own game. Out of all of them, the third sounded the most fun.

Like a game of tag, the next time it was your turn to go on the supply run, you stopped by a Dollar Tree and grabbed a stack of Post-its. Unfortunately, they only had the plain and frankly ugly yellow ones, but they’d do. If you played your cards right, you shouldn’t need too many of them anyway. You snuck around the Bunker for nearly a week, leaving the Post-its in inconspicuous places as Dean had. The first one you’d left next to the decanter of water he kept by his bedside, calling him a tall drink of water. The next one was slid under his disassembled 1911 when he went to take a break. You giggled to yourself as you positioned it, reading the line you’d printed on it. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

On the 7th day with no response from Dean, no change in behavior when the three (or four when Charlie came for dinner) of you went on hunts or stuck around the Bunker, you had started to lose hope. Maybe it was someone else and you’d read into the situation completely wrong. But something in your gut told you that you were barking up the right tree. Give it one last try, it seemed to say. So one last try it was. You’d know once and for all if it was Dean. You wrote the message that started it all on a sticky note, making sure Dean was in the kitchen before slinking off to the armory. All of you kept at least one bingo bag here, the main thing was finding which one was Dean’s. He kept his main pack in his room or in Baby’s trunk so it took some rooting around until you found the right one. 

Just as you unzipped the bag, poised to place the sticky note against the blade of one of Dean’s hunting knives, a voice called out your name from behind you. You froze, your lips pressing into a thin line as a small cheeky smile started to form. You stood up, turning around to see Dean leaning against the door jam.

“Whatcha doin’ Sweetheart?” He asked innocently, but his tone and the smug look on his face was anything but.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, suddenly a little sheepish. The plan didn’t involve you getting caught red handed. “You weren't supposed to catch me.”

“Figured as much.” He joked, crossing the space between you, plucking the Post-it from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own in a way that made your heart flutter a little faster than it already was. 

“Asshole.” You huffed equally as teasing,watching him look at the sticky note, reading your chicken scratch. 

You were both silent as Dean’s eyes met yours, his cheeks tinged a bit pink. You were sure your own were as well as you suddenly felt the urge to hide from his observing gaze. 

“So,” Dean breathed. “What now?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought. Giving you the option to back out, to deny this thing between you both even though he’d quite literally caught you leaving a flirtatious note in his bag. You let your hand drift forward, hesitantly finding his own. You intertwined your fingers, feeling his callouses brush your own as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I think now, you need to start sayin’ those things to me in person, not just on paper.” You gave him a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”

[captain-hawks]

hi dee! can i request iwaizumi + power outage due to heavy snow storm pls 🎁 happy holidays <3

under the covers 🎀 iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

In which a snow storm, a power outage, and the utter necessity of body heat find you in your roommate's bed.

2.1k — 18+ only, roommate!iwaizumi, roommates to lovers speed run, cuddling for warmth, dry humping, fingering

12:54 am

The numbers glow bright in the darkness of your room as you tap your phone screen, teeth chattering within the bundle of blankets you’re currently burrowed beneath. Despite your best efforts, your own body heat has done little to warm the makeshift cocoon. 

A gust of wind rattles your bedroom window as the snow storm outside rages on, leaving a layer of frozen white crystals stuck to the shuddering screen. 

The power’s been out for a few hours now—and subsequently the heat to your apartment. Any hope that you may have had for it to kick back on tonight is dwindling significantly by the minute. 

Sighing, you glance up at the ceiling before wrenching yourself out of bed with your layers of blankets clutched against you. Your muscles ache from shivering, but you ignore it and slip out into the hallway.

Your roommate’s door sits slightly ajar.

“Iwaizumi, are you awake?” you call out quietly from the doorway. 

The creaking of a bed frame is followed by soft footsteps padding across carpet, and the door squeaks slightly as it opens further. 

If anything could send heat flooding to your gut, it’s this—the sight of Iwaizumi Hajime with pillow-mussed hair and his pretty eyes that look equal parts tired and concerned.

“You alright?” he asks.

He’s wearing his old Aoba Johsai hoodie. The same one, your brain helpfully reminds you, that you were wearing earlier this morning while cooking breakfast. There’s still a tiny splatter of pancake batter on one shoulder.  

You wonder if he saw the drool spot on the sleeve from when you fell asleep on the couch wearing it. 

“I can’t sleep,” you admit.

He nods, rubbing his eyes and dragging a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but find yourself momentarily distracted by the motion.

At this rate, you’re beginning to think Iwaizumi could save you from hypothermia by just gawking at him like a stupid lovesick fool. 

“Me either, the insulation in this building is shit. And it doesn’t look like they’re gonna get this fixed anytime soon.” He glances back over his shoulder at the snow that continues to fall heavily outside, illuminated by the golden glow of a streetlamp. 

Your heart knocks anxiously against your ribcage as you ready yourself to ask the question that you’ve spent the past hour rehearsing in your head.

“I don’t think so, either. But uh…should we maybe try combining our blanket forts in a joint effort to not freeze to death?” You gesture toward the similar pile of blankets on his bed, suddenly feeling more awkward and nervous than you ever have in the past year that you’ve lived together. 

If nothing else, you’ll remain forever smug that your habit of shamelessly collecting throw blankets has finally found its purpose—despite the judgemental sigh your roommate responds with every time you come home with a new one.

Iwaizumi laughs, “As long as you don’t hog them all.”

“I make no promises,” you shrug, aiming for nonchalance despite the lingering trepidation inside of you. 

—

Early morning light creeps in through the window when your eyes crack open partyway, and the first thing you register is warmth. Wonderful, splendid warmth. 

…solid warmth that slowly rises and falls beneath you, two arms snaked around your middle—

Oh.

The good news? Both of you managed to fall asleep last night curled up inches apart atop Iwaizumi’s mattress. 

The other good news? While you’re buried under too many blankets to tell if the power made a miraculous return while you were sleeping, you’re deliciously warm all the same. 

(Warm enough that you apparently kicked off your sweatpants in your sleep.)

The bad news? 

The source of heat beneath you is your unfairly handsome roommate, who’s fast asleep and holding you to his chest with his hands tucked under his hoodie and splayed against the bare skin of your lower back.

He’d unceremoniously stuffed said hoodie back over your head when he turned around to find you shivering after he finished laying out your combined blankets on his bed. 

—before you’d both climbed under the pile with the awkward air of a newly married couple in an arranged marriage preparing to spend their first night together. 

But now—

It leaves you dizzy, being this wrapped up in the familiar scent of his body wash and cologne while his thumb unconsciously presses into the dip just above the curve of your ass. 

And—he’s hard.

Heat freely sparks and combusts in your abdomen, your throat going dry as you try to ignore the tingle of pleasure from the feeling of him pressed between your legs.

Slowly, you try to peel yourself off of him for the sake of your sanity—because you can already feel yourself getting mortifyingly wet. You’re too tired and sensitive and pent up for this.  

But Iwaizumi’s grip on you tightens as he murmurs in a sleep-rough voice, “Don’t hog the blankets.”

A small laugh bubbles up in your chest, and you let a finger skate against his side. “I’m not a blanket!” you protest weakly, trying to steady your voice. 

Forgetting how ticklish your roommate is, your mistake only becomes apparent when his body jerks in reaction to your touch, leaving his erection to press fully against the heat between your legs.

You gasp before you can stop yourself, and Iwaizumi’s eyes fly open, all remaining traces of sleep quickly slipping away as he takes in your position. The two of you stare at one another for a beat.

“I’ll just—”

You go to shift off of him, prickling with mortification, but his grip on you remains.

“Are you warm?” he asks quietly. Calmly. Pointedly. Clearly not on the verge of dying of embarrassment like yourself. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Good,” he mirrors your nod. “Sleep a little longer, it looks like it’s still early.”

He says it matter-of-factly, as if he’s not at all bothered by the fact that you’re plastered against his chest, flush against his hard cock.

But he’s so warm—

And you’re still so tired—

Sliding one hand up to the back of your head, he brushes his fingers against your hair in a way that has your eyelids going heavy again as you let yourself sink into his warmth.

If you weren’t so exhausted in the first place, so comfortable in Iwaizumi’s arms, you may have foreseen your next mistake. 

But as you fall asleep to the near-silent murmur of, “You’re so warm,” that rustles against the shell of your ear—well, consequences are the last thing on your mind.

You’ve had this dream plenty of times before, the hot, slick heat of Iwaizumi’s mouth on yours. The press of his fingertips into your sides, his tongue against your teeth. The deep rumble of a moan in his chest as you nip at his bottom lip, the answering whimper in your own as he cups your face and kisses you roughly in turn.

The thick press of his cock between your legs as you straddle his waist, your panties already slick with arousal as he grabs your hips and groans, pulling you into him even harder when you start to rock against him.

You’ve woken up soaking wet and alone in bed countless times from dreams like this, dreams of kissing your roommate until you’re both panting and desperate. Dreams of feeling the shape of his dick through his pants as you dry hump him until you’re both on the verge of combusting.

You’ve stuffed a vibrator inside of your tight, creamy hole half-awake to dreams of him flipping you over and thrusting his cock inside—

“Shit.”

You jolt awake to the sound of Iwa’s voice, and you find your lips plastered against Iwaizumi’s neck, the skin there already slick with saliva. Your cunt throbs, and Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into your hips as he drags his clothed cock against your panties.

“I—” he cuts himself off when a whine escapes your lips.

“Iwa,” you pant, realizing one of your fingers is buried in his hair. 

“Sorry, I—” he groans when you shift atop him, your folds sliding against your sopping wet panties. “—I was sleeping, and you…”

Gasping at the pleasure that crawls up your spine, you gasp, “Don’t stop.”

Iwaizumi goes still for a moment, though you can feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. “Are you sure?”

You’ll feel a little pathetic for how quick and needy your response comes out later, but for now, you’re too desperate to care. 

“Please.”

He exhales, breath coming out ragged as his hands slide to your waist, pushing up your—his—hoodie and your shirt underneath until your tits are nearly hanging out.

His hands burn everywhere they touch your bare skin.

“You have no idea what it does to me every time you wear this,” he rasps. 

Heat throbs between your thighs at his admission, at the way he drags his teeth against his bottom lip when his thumbs just barely feather against the lower swell of your breasts. 

It’s wholly deliberate this time, the way you drag your hips down against him, and you revel in the way his neck strains as he pushes his head back into the pillow, eyes falling shut. 

Even through his sweatpants, the shape and size of Iwaizumi’s cock imprints itself against your pussy with each push and drag, leaving your mouth to water at the thought of him stuffing it inside of you. At the thought of your cunt stretching to accommodate him, sucking him in and taking each inch until he’s slamming against your cervix while you sob his name. 

Iwa’s hand cups the side of your neck, sliding up to stroke your jaw as he brings your mouth to meet his, lips hovering against yours as he finally finishes his previous sentence, “You woke me up like this.”

“Sorry,” you gasp, spine arching as your clit catches the outline of the head of his shaft just right. “—Iwa.” His name is less punctuation to your statement than an automatic reaction to the way he presses up into you harder when he sees the way you shudder in pleasure.

“That’s not what you were moaning in your sleep,” he murmurs, chin clasped between two fingers, his stubble brushing against your face as he presses a slow, hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He brings a hand down to the curve of your ass, fingers closing around the lacy fabric that covers it and tugging it into a fist. You keen, mouth falling open as he bunches your panties from the back, leaving the fabric to dig tightly into your slit.

“Hajime,” you choke out as he extends a finger, slipping it past your stretched underwear to stroke the outside of your fluttering, dripping hole. You can almost feel it pulsate under his touch, your walls clenching in anticipation. 

You can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed by how wet you are, not after the groan that tumbles from his lips as he feels the evidence of it. 

“Say it again,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Hajime,” you moan, and he abandons his grip on your panties entirely to thrust a thick finger inside of you. 

Later, maybe, you’ll find the wherewithal to giggle a little with a quip about giving him somewhere hot and wet to stay warm. 

But right now, all you can do is writhe on top of him, whining in pleasure as Iwaizumi fingers you while you hump his cock, the dual pleasure turning you into a trembling, needy mess. 

You spread your legs even further as he stuffs a second finger inside of you, his voice a hoarse rasp as he groans about how fucking wet you are before capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss. 

“Come for me,” he groans, a string of sticky saliva hanging between your lips while he curls his fingers inside of you. “Let me feel it.”

When you tip over the edge, your vision goes white as every muscle in your body seizes with pleasure, your pussy spasming in a slippery, soaked mess while Iwaizumi finger fucks you through your orgasm.

You can feel him press up into you roughly as you ride it out, your name tumbling from his lips in a stuttered gasp as his cock throbs, flooding his boxers with hot, thick ropes of cum that you can feel as it soaks through his sweatpants.

Both of you go boneless, quiet save for the sound of your breathing until you hear the sound of the power clicking back on. Looking up from where your head is currently pressed to Iwaizumi’s chest, you confirm your suspicions when you see the lamp on his bedside table now illuminated.

“How long do you think it’ll take for the shower to heat up?” you ask him coyly.

Iwaizumi laughs hoarsely in response. 

[red-doll-face]

You're much younger than Arthur. Maybe he doesn't mind as much as he thinks he does...

Low-High Honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader who is younger than him.

Some head canons that ended up way too long 😭😔 hope you don't mind too much! I am 23 currently so these are really in the mind of reader being over 18 at least. At 23, Arthur is still way older than me so I guess it's just what does it for me! Includes both high and low honor versions. Thanks for reading!! and please let me know if you like them 😭

Warnings: NSFW 18+ only pls, Daddy Kink, Innocence Kink, Corruption Kink, nasty boy low honor arthur being toxic and manipulative (not too badly tho) its ok sweetie arthur is here to balance it out 😳💖💓🥹😳😭

:High Honor:

He had convinced himself that he was way too old for you and quite honestly shut that shit down the second he found his mind wandering to how pretty you were, your own natural beauty catching his eye. He can think you’re sweet and nice, that you understand him and go out of your way to talk to him. Doesn’t matter, he mentally smacks himself for thinking of you past anything like “mentor” or something. He might steal a glance once in a while but he feels bad about it every time. It’s just that, stolen, because in his mind, you don’t belong to him and you never will. He’s more than 10 years your senior, it makes him feel like a dirty old man. Arthur has a strange conflicted energy around you, like he wants to spend time with you but also doesn’t want to come off as creepy or too attached to something that can never be. If you make efforts to be around him, he does appreciate it and will stick around but he always cuts it sort of short. 

Will subtly try to remind himself how young you are, referring to you as girl or kid to others or even to you. He has no idea you think that’s kinda hot. Will jokingly say you’re too young for certain things and thinks it’s cute if you pout and try to fight back against him. Holds alcohol out of your reach and clicks his tongue at you. When you point out the other young women in camp, he’s giving in but only a little, he still watches out for you. He’s protective in the sense that he does see you as someone who needs protecting. He can lie and say it's because of your age but really he just likes you and doesn’t want to admit it.

Anytime you try to get him to understand that you think of him as more than a vague father or brother figure, he’s missing the signs, straight over his head. Light jabs at his age, like calling him Mr. Morgan; make him roll his eyes a little bit but you can catch an endeared smile on his face. Truly a bit hard headed when it comes to noticing that you tease him with more than poking fun in mind. You have to find reasons to touch or kiss him on the cheek. He still might miss physical signs, real dumb dumb behavior. It’s impossible in his head that you would think of him like that. 

If you can get him to open up, having emotionally charged conversations with him is a good way to get him to understand that you care about him at least. Arthur just likes to feel like you’re listening and that you like him enough to care about his thoughts and feelings. If you offer comfort to him in hard times, he’s lowkey simping for you…He can be very closed off, not all too willing to share his truths, especially with someone who may not even understand but if he can be himself around you and you don’t judge, he can forget his feelings about your youth for a moment. 

It’s hard for him to initiate because he’s convinced that if anything were to happen between the both of you, it would be wrong or perverse in some way. If you tell him you like him, he might try to tell you otherwise, trying to get you to think differently of him. Suggests you find someone closer to your age or someone who hasn’t led a life like he has. It’s all really sad because he’s also insinuating that he’ll ruin your life in some way. 

The first time he kisses you will be way too gentle, you’ll hardly call it a kiss. He thinks of himself as too rough for you so he holds back like 99% in an attempt to seem more like a gentleman. It takes you grabbing onto him and deepening your kiss for him to give you more. He’s gentle, hands on your cheeks, holding you like you’ll break if he squeezes too hard. 

Expect a whole lot of “this ain’t right,” or “I’m too damn old for this,” at first. But once you get him to give in, there’s no going back. He gives you his all, no matter what. He does get a bit bashful making things official, especially when there's something to be said about it. John calling him something terrible for being with you like cradle robber or something puts a sour look on his face but he tries his best to power through it. “She ain’t a goddamn baby,” “She might as well be, how old are you again? Or did you lose count?” “Shut the hell up, John.” Hugs and kisses from you definitely make it worth it. He gets a bit used to it, letting things like that stop affecting him so much. 

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you and some small part of him will always believe that you could still be better off with someone else but he gets greedier and greedier with you, the more you love on him, he doesn't want to even think of you with anyone else. He's still so confused that you think he is attractive at his age. He’ll show you pictures of him when he was young and he sort of expects you to say that he was more appealing back then. But you don’t; you just pet his face, his scratchy beard and his sun kissed skin. Arthur lets you see his soft smile when you say you love him right now, more than anything. 

Taking your firsts might put a weird (not bad though) taste in his mouth. First kisses or virginity, he’s nervous he’ll come up short and not be what you're expecting. But his best is more than enough to make you happy. He wants to make your first experiences feel special and memorable, the last thing he wants is to put pressure on you, he just puts way too much pressure on himself. He ends up being just a little too gentle. He needs a lot of praise, a lot of egging on to get more confident. If you beg and plead for more, he can’t say no, he always gives you what you want. Getting him to be more “out there” is a little more difficult. He’s embarrassed to admit he might like when you playfully call him daddy or your old man. The guilt kind of turns him on but he has a hard time coming to terms with that. At his own pace, he’ll indulge more if you’re into it. You’re crossing some weird wires in his head, he swears. If you say it to him in the right context, he’s giving you a shocked look and a halfhearted scolding as he tries not to get turned on in the middle of what he’s doing. “You’re gonna be the death of me, girl,” makes you giggle at him. 

:Low Honor:

He might also be somewhat against it but for different reasons. He thinks girls like you have high expectations and it annoys him. But if he thinks you’re pretty that’s what he thinks. He doesn't let anybody get too close so if he’s thinking about you as more, your age is not something that stops him from doing so. It does just take him some time to think about letting you close enough for anything more than his usual rude demeanor and standoffish personality. 

The only way he'll know he likes you as a bit more than another thankless and ungrateful face in the crowd of people he begrudgingly provides for is if you thank him for bringing money or things back to camp. He gets a little quiet, trying to suss out ulterior motives but he thinks you’re quite adorable. Looks away and says it’s nothing. He’ll indulge you, doing things that are just for you, just to hear you say thank you again. 

He teases you more, emphasizing how young you are, in a way that rubs him the right way. Calling you little girl, intimidating you with his size, or keeping you away from certain things like cigarettes. “These are for grown ups, sweetheart,” If you’re a brat around him, he likes a bit of brat taming. “Dunno, might need to take you over my knee if you’re gonna act like that,” has you gasping and stuttering out a clumsy response.

It’s easy to sway him into taking things further with you. He isn’t one for hanging around the camp, so close to everyone else anyway, he likes his alone time. Catching him when he’s by himself, smoking a cigarette, is a good time to get on his nerves enough to force his hand a little bit. Stand too close to him and run your fingers over the handle of his gun and ask if you can hold it, he’s so close to snapping. The look in his eye under the shadow of his hat makes you feel 5 degrees warmer. “You better quit playin’ games with me, girl. Not sure you know what you’re askin’ for,”  Maybe not the best idea to defiantly ask him to show you.

Then you’re sat on his knee, he’s pressing his mouth into yours, sloppy kisses with no regard for whether you think it’s too much for you or not. He’s shoving his tongue into your mouth, one hand to steady you and the other groping your tits. He’s mostly trying to get you to be as noisy as possible. 

He’s really not guilty at all. Maybe a little but he doesn’t let guilt affect his actions. It may be true that maybe you could be with someone better than him but if you’re with him, you know what you’re in for. You’re his girl and there isn’t anyone else for you if he’s your man. Arthur may not admit it but in the back of his head, there is a voice that whispers to him that one day you’ll leave him behind. He overcompensates for it, doing what he can to see you smile, rather reluctantly asking if you’re happy with him once in a while. If you ask why, he’s unclear, “Jus’… makin’ sure,” your enthusiastic yes, followed by a kiss on his cheek actually flatters him a little, rubbing his neck, a quiet ‘good’ is all he has to say. 

If he gets shit for being with you, he brushes it off. He might get flack from some well meaning people, Hosea or Abigail might tell him to leave you alone, that he should know better. But he thinks they should know better too, Arthur has very little restraint. So if a young pretty thing wants to be his girl, he’s not saying no. Any notions of how guilty he should be don’t come from him. He may think he’s a sinner and a bad man but those things don’t stop him from wanting you. And Arthur always gets what he wants when he can help it. 

Arthur has never given too much thought about what women think of how he looks. He certainly doesn’t think too much of himself and knows he isn’t exactly in his prime, looks wise at the very least. He’s not too confident about his looks or his body really, he’s more confident when it comes to his abilities and skills. So if you tell him you like the way he looks, he isn’t gonna argue, just pleasantly surprised if he happens to believe you. There’s a chance he thinks you're lying. He knows there’s something perhaps a bit off with you, most girls your age don’t give him a second glance but does it stroke his ego when you stare at him, bite your lip when he grabs his belt, pulling all of your attention to the size of his hands and his crotch. 

If you’re softer about your affections for him, he’s happy to accept them too, you’re his little angel, but he has every intention to pull you down from heaven to make you his. You can start with soft touches over his face, rubbing up over his shoulders and chest but he’s quick to pull you deeper with him. His teeth nip softly at your lips, his hands roam all over you.

He's eager to take your firsts, in his twisted little head, he knows he can regulate what you think is normal. He doesn’t have to play gentle and sweet, he bites and sucks marks on you, slaps your ass pretty hard. Arthur’s happy to have himself be the man that ruins you for other men, he’s your first and your last. 

Sorry but he’s kind of toxic, he likes the way you do things like kiss him, or touch him, take him in your mouth; but sometimes he puts on a little bit of an unimpressed face, not exactly bored or anything, just enough to see you try harder to please him. He always gives in; especially when he can tell you’re trying. His proud little smirk and affection are something you might have to work for. Your inexperience is the perfect opportunity to have you eager to make him happy. 

Huge innocence kink, he loves to corrupt you, teach you about what a man does with a woman he likes. Even better if you have no clue, or you think babies come from kissing or something, god is he eager to fuck all of that up. He’s all for you calling him daddy too, the guilt or the imagery or whatever doesn’t do it for other people just makes it so much more appealing to him. Most of the time, he likes to keep your affairs private but once in a while, he’ll show out, just to show who you belong to. If people happen to overhear the racy things you two talk about and they give you a weird look, he just has a knowing smirk for the eavesdropper.

Can you tell that I think age gaps are hot? RDR let me fuck that middle aged man right neow!!! When will they let RDO be about dating Arthur Morgan??? 😔😔😔😔wish he was at least a fuckin stranger mission or something SIGHHHH anyway Thanks for reading and pls let me know if you liked it! Otherwise I'll feel like a freak LMAO

[arixella]

Beneath the Storm

╰┈➤ pairing: Sanemi x fem! reader

a/n: none

summary: Sanemi reveals his vulnerable, loving side to his partner during a quiet moment, showing her the depth of his feelings and the safety he finds in their relationship.

wc: 650

contains: fluff

The sun had barely begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of amber and gold, as you sat outside of Sanemi's home. A gentle breeze carried the scent of pine and wildflowers, contrasting with the sharp, intimidating demeanor Sanemi was known for. But here, in the quiet of the countryside, you saw him in a way no one else ever did.

Sanemi emerged from inside, a towel slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from the bath. He paused when he saw you, his expression softening as his eyes met yours. You offered him a warm smile, patting the space beside you.

"Come sit," you urged.

He hesitated for a moment, then relented, plopping down beside you with a faint grunt. You leaned against his shoulder, feeling the tension in his frame slowly ease.

“Long day?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing against his hand.

Sanemi scoffed, but there was no bite to it. “Same as always. Training brats who think they can take on demons with guts alone.”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers with his. “Sounds like someone I know.”

He turned to you, a playful glare in his eyes. “You calling me reckless?”

“Just brave,” you teased, leaning closer to nudge him. “And maybe a little stubborn.”

Sanemi huffed, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “Tch. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The banter was easy, familiar. But as the silence settled between you, you noticed the way his hand tightened slightly around yours. He had something on his mind. You’d learned to recognize the signs—his jaw clenching, his eyes flickering to the horizon as if searching for words.

“Sanemi,” you said gently, your free hand brushing against his arm. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, with a deep sigh, he turned to you fully, his gaze softer than you’d ever seen it. “I don’t… say it enough. How much you mean to me.”

Your breath caught at the rare vulnerability in his voice. Sanemi wasn’t one for grand declarations or flowery words, but in this moment, you could feel the weight of his emotions, raw and unguarded.

“I know I’m not easy to deal with,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’m rough around the edges. Hell, I’m rough all over. But you… you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like this.” He paused, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Like I’m more than the scars and the anger.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you squeezed his hand. “Sanemi, you don’t have to be anyone but yourself with me. I love you for all of it—the good, the bad, the stubborn.”

He exhaled a shaky laugh, his lips quirking into a small smile. “You’re too good for me.”

You shook your head, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. “We’re good for each other.”

For a moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you and the warmth shared between your intertwined fingers. Sanemi’s lips brushed against yours, tender and unhurried, a silent promise of his love. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment.

“You’re my safe place,” he murmured. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered, your heart full as the golden light of the sunset wrapped around you both.

In the quiet of that evening, Sanemi Shinazugawa let down his walls, showing you a side of himself no one else would ever see—a man who loved fiercely, with every piece of his battered heart.

♡♡♡

[fricc-darn]

A Cultish Christmas

(BEN fluff?! It's a Christmas miracle!)

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It was that special time of the year again. Cold white specks that blanketed every little thing have replaced the falling amber leaves. Holiday lights and other accompanying decorations were visible across various homes in the neighborhood. No matter where you went, there was stark reminder that today was Christmas Eve.

You didn't know how you felt about the holiday anymore. Always, there was a sudden urge. A spark, an eagerness for another opportunity to make this Christmas better than the last. To try new foods, attend events, and maybe even go to a holiday party. However, the ugly truth of reminiscing was that these thoughts were a cope. You were yearning for what the holiday once was, what it felt like. Cursed nostalgia has you chasing a high you haven't felt since childhood. 

Nothing has been the same, especially in the last few... years? Time meshed together; it was hard to keep track of time with so much happening. Your mind never fully adjusted to the change; how could one adjust to a malevolent hive mind choosing you to be their lifelong plaything—lover? You weren't mad about it, not anymore. The relationship wasn't conventional, but you grew to love it. 

Occasionally, you wished BEN wasn't awfully stubborn. Here you were, hunched over in your chair, at the crack of dawn, typing away at your computer, going back-and-forth with BEN. Trying to convince it to celebrate Christmas with you this year.

Your eyes skimmed over what you typed once more before hitting send.

"Please BEN!! Let's go ice skating or walk around downtown to look at all the lights. It'll be really fun I promise!"

"No."

A loud groan bellowed from your throat. Your hands rubbed your face, trying to subdue the built-up annoyance. A fruitless effort trying to force a horse to drink water. BEN showed no desire to go outside, only using its physical body indoors, around you. Given how jaded it was from days of yore and how deplorable humanity is, BEN clearly did not want to be around those it deemed as lesser. Not like its rationale made this any easier. 

Your hands clicked on the keys.

"Then help me finish decorating the tree. I want to put at least one gift under there, so let me get you a gift!"

"Someone is frusterated."

You reclined back in your seat, rolling your eyes. Maybe you could try going out on your own, but it would be no fun without them. Was this holiday apathy some religious thing? BEN's explanations about its beliefs were a vague and convoluted puzzle you have yet to solve. At worst, celebrating could be a sore spot for the Moon Children.

Your fingers intertwined, fiddling with your thumb. Glancing around the computer screen, you spoke in a hushed tone, walking on eggshells. "You know... You're not committing a cardinal sin by having fun. Christmas is not all bad if you think about it differently. I promise you'll have fun."

BEN wouldn't have admitted how it appreciated your consideration. You always tried to weasel your way into understanding what little you knew about how it felt on pressing matters. Trying to cheer it up was admirable, to a fault. You spoke too much about what you didn't know.

This was not necessarily a matter of sin. This was a matter of right and wrong—semantics. The holiday is superficial and a waste of time. For a day, people pretend to get along and splurge on plastic garbage while others starved, a holiday derived from a tall tale. Simply put, your enthusiasm had them asking why. You were better than this nonsense.

They'll humor you. Your behavior has greatly improved compared to years past; good behavior should be rewarded after all. They've had plans in the works. The coveted notion of converting you into a believer. They wanted to test your willingness to leave all of this behind. To push your devotion to them beyond your limits. For you to be completely theirs, it was an entertaining idea. Occasionally, indulging your frivolous wants would come to their benefit in the long run.

BEN watched as you fussed in your seat. Muttering how you would be downstairs in the living room if needed before you stormed out of the room.

An hour had passed since then. You stood before your creation. A mediocre tree, but it was your mediocre tree! The decorated fern was adorned with sentimental ornaments and cheap multicolored lights, with a cute topper at the tip of it all. Slowly, eying the tree to the base, the emptiness chipped at your glee. Turning around, you bumped into BEN, your pitchy shrieking echoed off the walls, mixed with BEN's maniacal laughter. Before you fell over and capsized the tree, it quickly grabbed you.

"I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that; it's not funny—" Your ridicule came to a screeching halt realizing BEN was wearing a winter outfit. A warm, deep blue and white jacket with gloves. Dark snow pants and boots, as if it weren't tall enough. BEN looked adorable! It was always fashionable, its smile elevated anything it wore. Squealing, your hands trembled with delight, reaching out to hold its face.

BEN let you cup its face, momentarily that is. It took a step back, staring you down. "Go change before I change my mind."

Sporadically, you nodded. Hurrying past them and up the stairs, you burst into your room. You rummaged through your closet, throwing together a nice outfit for the long Christmas date ahead. 

The moon beamed overhead, softly illuminating the sky. The streetlights aided in brightening up the freezing walk back home. You two spent the entire day out and about. The two of you were laughing, walking hand in hand, cracking jokes about stuff that happened today.

You took a quick peek at BEN. Whispy strands of green hair blew in the wind. Its cheeks and nose were a cherry hue, yet BEN didn't seem bothered by the cold. "I'm surprised how well you blend in; you even got compliments! I still can't believe how easily you bullshitted that goth girl about your hair color."

"Heh, easier for me to blend in than it is for you to walk on icy pavement." BEN was genuinely amazed by the plethora of close calls that happened in one night. Your excitement got the best of you, almost falling and splitting your head open so many times, you had to have broken a world record. BEN tightened its hold on your hand as you approached the frozen sidewalk that led to your house. Those lazy degenerates for neighbors could not bother to salt the ground.

Looming over you, it watched as you fumbled with your keys. The keys jingled a soothing melody among its thoughts. You looked exhausted; good. They were content the night continued to go as planned. 

The door creaked open, you daintily pulled BEN inside. It hung up its jacket and placed its boots on the shoe rack. You kicked off your boots and yawned, mumbling your gratitude. "This is hands down the best Christmas ever... Thank you, BEN." Slowly, but surely, you hung up your coat and gloves. "Did you guys enjoy yourselves, even a little bit? I'm sorry if the strangers got too annoying." You spoke under your breath.

'Did we enjoy ourselves?' BEN pondered. Instinctively, they wanted to deny the lingering truth, but chose honesty. The Moon Children enjoyed themselves to varying degrees. Some took pleasure in sightseeing; others preferred the parade, catching the goodie bags being thrown, even if they had no use for them. It reminded them of when—well, those times didn't matter anymore.

Ultimately, your presence is pleasant... accepting this truth continued to be painfully shameful. BEN let the silence linger on; there was no point in answering if you were hardly awake. It took a step closer, shaking your shoulder. "Go to sleep. It's late."

Just like that, you jolted awake. Shaking your head and whining. "Y... Yeah, but I wanted to stay up longer." Your eyes stared at the tree in your periphery. A Christmas cuddle sounded nice. Cautiously, you continued, "Maybe we can watch a movie or something?"

BEN's eye twitched. You still wanted to do more? After everything you did today? What are you, a brat? It huffed, relinquishing its anger. BEN lowered to your eye level, red irises studying your tired face. It could feel your nervousness rise whenever it got close.

Tenderly, it held your cheek with its hand, grazing the soft skin with its thumb. "Don't be stubborn." BEN grabbed your waist, pressing against your body; it kissed your lips sweetly. "You must sleep. We have something for you." Its voice was a whispery serenade as it walked past you, up the stairs, and to your room, leaving you shocked.

Your mind raced with ideas. Your thudding heart fueled you as you raced up the steps, barging into your room, yet BEN was gone. You took their words to heart, especially after today. Confirming your belief that they weren't all that bad, just temperamental. If they were awful to their core, BEN wouldn't have even bothered spending time with you today.

When you finished getting ready for bed, you plopped onto the mattress. Wrapped under your blankets, you tossed and turned. The adrenaline coursing through your veins clashed with your drowsiness for minutes, until exhaustion gave way.

Muffling. The dulled chitter-chatter fizzled out when your eyes fluttered open. You were graced by a heart-shaped mask with an unrelenting gaze, surrounded by other masked faces. Your body jumped in surprise. Sitting up, you realized there were many familiar faces of varying ages resembling the game's NPCs. 

An awkward standstill took place, a staring contest between you and, what your mind could count, seventeen others. You grew nervous. Fidgeting with the blades of grass, you attempted to pay no mind to your blushing face. Until a laugh broke the silence.

One of the masked children giggled, practically snorting. "You're nervous. Funny." Their ridiculous snorting set off a chain reaction, causing the others to laugh. They exchanged comments about how scared you looked and that your sudden shyness was comical. The tension melting away cracked a smile from your lips.

Another masked child added on in a matter-of-fact, neutral tone. "You know how to play along; we like that."

At the center of the group, Majora nods. Majora never spoke much to you, nor did you see them often. "Yes. Your fun; you made Christmas very fun too." Their girly voice, murine and juvenile.

Soon after, an older member leaned down, whispering into Majora's ear. The two conversed while others listened in, joining the murmuring. The group giggled as the talk finished. Majora turned back to you, taking a brief look at you sitting on the grassy fields of Termina. Majora approached, lifting their covering to reveal their face.

You held your tongue; it wasn't the first time you had seen a Moon Child's marred visage. Certainly, it was not an easy sight to adjust to. Deep gashes on the face and clouded irises, like a muddied pond. Scleras bloodshot and inflamed. Your heart ached seeing someone so young be this hurt. Yet, she—or at least that's what you assumed—was a diamond in the rough. They were all beautiful in their own right.

"We have a present for you." Majora whispered. After adjusting their dirty blond bob, Majora pulled something out of their pocket. Holding it behind their back.

You did a double take, shaking your head and stammering. A gift? They have never given you a material gift before. BEN's gifts were symbolic, like quality time or letting you live. Majora sat in front of you, opening the small sachet that was once hidden. What tumbled out made you gasp.

It was a solid gold necklace, the centerpiece crest moon pendant with a turquoise-colored gem. The jewelry was similar to what BEN always wore.

"It has been ages since we spent the holidays with someone besides each other." Majora leaned in, unclasping the necklace while the others watched on, humming in agreement. "There's not much we can give to you, but we wanted to thank you for your good intent...." Their hand moved away from the jewelry once the clasp was on, looking up to see you all teary-eyed and babbling questions.

The others surrounded you, getting a better look at the waterworks. Someone in the group answered. "It's a lunula, with a moon tear."

A masked face spoke up. "Yes, it is a protective necklace. Luna's grace will protect you when we are not around."

"Do you like it?" The group spoke in a synchronized manner.

Them being so in tune with one another would have been unsettling if you weren't elated. "Yes! Of course, I love it, BEN." No way in hell were you skeptical of the protective properties of this gift. If the Moon Children were giving this thing to you, it's going to work.

"Good." Majora said in a low, honeyed tone, smiling wildly, that their missing tooth was visible.

They leaned into you for a firm hug, almost as if they didn't want to let go. Sowing the seeds of devotion in you as they nuzzled you. You held them in your arms; they were small enough to pick up with ease. Though you wouldn't dare test the thought.

Majora hummed. Premeditation aside, they were relaxed; a genuine sense of comfort washed over them. You were the only outsider they liked to be held by after some warming up. It was a rare occurrence that they even wanted such affection. Majora spoke in a dreamlike, hushed tone.

"We will be there when you wake. We love—"

A grating, piercing alarm blared in your ears, ripping you from the sweet moment. An alarm you don't remember setting. With a grunt, you rolled around in bed wanting to get back into the fading moment. The cold metal against your skin gave you goosebumps, but it soothed you.

Shifting your focus onto the necklace, you smiled. That nostalgic emptiness you once held was replaced. The minuscule glimmer of hope you clung to meant something to someone. You analyzed the necklace, looking over every curve and engraving. The polished gold of the crescent moon harbored your reflection, smiling at your mirror image. A faint, glitchy voice emitted from your phone. 

"Merry Christmas, my love."

[starlightomatic]

I clicked on my christmas discourse tag and found the following post, which I'd responded to at the time. I no longer like my old response, but cannot reblog it again as I was blocked like OP promised, so instead I'll respond here. I did not waterboard the post as my intention isn't ridicule, so I've dunked it in some green elixir instead.

I think OP is missing several things.

Firstly, their premise is... bad. It completely elides the power dynamics in a Christianormative society between Christians/cultural Christians and members of minority religions.

Secondly, people being pressured or shamed for not celebrating Christmas (whether that's snide comments and disrespect, or expectations of performing Christmas at work, eg in retail), is a real thing, whereas "non-Christians being shamed for celebrating" is... not (unless OP is speaking in an intracommunal Jewish context, but I assume they are not). So we're starting out with a strawman out the gate.

Thirdly, I think it really misunderstands posts like this, whose thesis is not "people who celebrate Christmas in a secular manner are wrong and bad" but rather "please stop using 'Christmas is secular' as a means to erase its origins and pressure us about it."

And also "there is a core of this that is Christian that does not need to be an issue for secular celebrators, but is an issue for many Jews."

I understand that a lot of people are challenged by that second implication so I will attempt to frame it a little more. I am not saying that a person who celebrates only the cultural aspects of Christmas is engaging in theological activities without their own knowledge. What I am saying is that Christianity comes with a set of connotations and associations for many Jews, namely our history of persecution by Christians, as well as some deep theological incompatibilities, and from the perspective of many Jews, Christmas is not really separable from this relationship, and we don't have any particular motive to separate it.

It is not that I am attempting to assign a religious identity to every person who puts up a Christmas tree; rather, that the discussion among Jews about whether to celebrate Christmas occurs in relationship to our history not only with Christianity but with our value of keeping our culture going by not assimilating. For various reasons, Christmas specifically has become an avatar in this that other holidays like Halloween largely have not.

In light of the Christian history of violent attempts to convert us (and many other peoples across the globe), and centuries of violent and oppressive treatment as punishment for our refusal to become Christian, putting any kind of pressure on us to participate in Christian celebrations come off very badly.

Which means that the fourth thing that OP missed was that "it's bad when it gets forced on people" was not an afterthought or "bad-faith response" but rather the entire thesis of the posts they're upset about. The entire point.

So to recap: No one is trying to say that people who celebrate only the non-religious aspects of Christmas are wrong, or bad, or don't exist. If this is the takeaway it is a failure of communication. There are many secular Jews who celebrate Jewish holidays in ways that align with their secularism, so this isn't a foreign concept to us.

More under the cut:

As well, there are Jews who celebrate Christmas, but the majority of them do so because they were raised in, or are currently part of, multi-cultural homes where another family member has brought Christmas to the home -- rather than because Christmas is universal.

Now, OP did not explicitly say they are equating Christmas being secular with Christmas being universal, but they implied it in their last line. This, actually, is the main issue with their post. Because whether or not Christmas is secular actually seems to be a red herring, the question at hand is whether it's universal. They are implying that maybe it is, if 80% of the non-Christian world celebrates it. The idea here is to eschew the claim that Christmas is associated with any particular culture; no, it's not a Christian holiday, it's a humanity holiday! It's for everyone! Stop being a Grinch.

And this is why the project to separate it from Christianity becomes relevant again: It's no longer fashionable to say that everyone should be Christian, so let's instead put that idea in sheep's clothing and substitute Christmas instead. It's the same thing, but now it looks innocent.

And, wait a minute, is it even true that 80% of the non-Christian world celebrates Christmas?

I clicked through the link OP provided, and found that, first of all, it only applies to the US.

And, second of all, the number for Jews is only 32%.

I clicked through to the source on that, and it's the classic: Pew's 2013 "Portrait of Jewish Americans." I found the relevant data:

And noticed a pretty big discrepancy between those in intermarriages and those not. It turns out, only 7% of Jews who are married to other Jews have a Christmas tree in their home. Let's be clear: This post is not a judgment in any direction on the choices of who to marry or whether to put a tree in your house. Rather: I am attempting to complicate "80% of non-Christians celebrate Christmas" with the data that only 7% of households with two Jewish spouses are doing so. Which... implies that American Jews, on the whole, do not see Christmas as universal.

And what about that 29% of unmarried Jews?

Well...

25% of Jewish American adults have a non-Jewish parent. We don't know what percentage of them grew up with a Christmas tree in the house but our closest approximation is the data about Jews with non-Jewish spouses (even though both sets of data are from 2013 so we're talking about different generations), so let's assume it was 71%. That would mean 18% of Jewish adults grew up with a non-Jewish parent and a Christmas tree in the house. Which accounts for the majority of that 29%. Of the remaining 11%, we can imagine that some proportion of them are living with non-Jews in a context other than marriage (eg in a relationship and living together, roommates, etc).

What we can conclude is this: Most Jews who celebrate Christmas do so with a non-Jewish family member. Thus, I believe that the opinion that Christmas is universal is one that is not held by the vast majority of Jews. Which means the OP's 80% statistic does not serve to prove its universality.

It is of course possible that I am reading in a connection between secular and universal that OP genuinely didn't intend, and their 80% statistic is truly only about showing that the cultural aspects are adoptable by non-Christians. If so, that is better, but I still don't think the statistic is doing what they think it is. Different religious groups have different considerations as well as different relationships with Christianity, and may not see engagement with Christianity as theologically and historically problematic the way many Jews do. That is to say: it doesn't mean Christmas isn't Christian.

[kitty6choi]

𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆 (𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘)

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: The memory of his betrayal is still present in your mind, but you decide to leave it behind now that you are at peace, but when an old friend asks you for a favor, you cannot refuse without imagining that you will relive some feelings that you thought you had buried.

𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Song Mingi x fem! reader

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut MDNI + little angust + mafia au + loves from the past

A/N: As a special thank you for the 50 followers I bring you this little preview that I hope to finish reviewing soon, for now enjoy it, thank you <3

⋆｡˚୨𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍୧˚｡⋆

⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.

You entered that room with your head held high, with your heels clicking on the floor and with the loaded gun hidden in your leg, but none of that could prepare you for what you were going to find on the other side of the door.

It was a small room, with just a desk and two chairs, but the light was very dim, so much so that you could barely see the other person in front of you because of the thick smoke from the cigarette he was smoking, even so you approached and sat in the empty chair that was in front of the desk.

The smoke made its way like a curtain and left you both stunned when you saw the face of the person in front of you, he thought he would never see you again and you thought that the pain of that betrayal was behind you, but when you saw it all seemed to come back to you like a wave hitting your heart hard, everything you thought you had forgotten, all the feelings and memories came back to you when you recognized those eyes.

“I see you’ve been busy” you said trying to control your voice, Mingi stood up suddenly, it was as if he had seen a ghost and had stolen the words from him “So much that you seem to have forgotten me”

“I never forgot you” he answered quickly, just being here made you feel a lump in your throat with the millions of memories you spent together clouding your mind, but you never forgot the last moment.

“But you abandoned me”

.

.

.

When you least expected it Mingi had snatched the gun from your hand, you no longer had anything to fight with but that didn’t stop you from trying to do it.

“You never change” he said taking your hands in quick movements and imprisoning your body on the desk “you are still as stubborn as before”

“And you are still an idiot” you could not do anything, you could only look at him with resentment hoping that the weight of your gaze would do something to him.

Mingi was not going to hurt you, he only wanted to talk things over, but when he saw your eyes he knew that you were dragging bad memories from the past.

“I never forgot you” he repeated and somehow you felt that his words reached your heart.

You looked at him and realized the closeness that there was between the two of you, as if all the past that had existed between you had vanished and only this moment existed. He was very close and something inside you urged you to get closer to him, your heart was beating strongly and you wanted to feel more than a simple touch of his hands on your wrists, you still loved him, you always knew it.

“It still hurts” you said, holding back your tears and the urge to hug him. Mingi let go of your hands but didn’t move away “I can’t forget it so easily”

“So, let me help you” he came a little closer and you felt his breath on your lips for a second, you could have moved away, you could have pushed him away and left that room, but the truth was that you also wanted to forget the traces of the past.

His lips were just like you remembered…

⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.

[y-so-hungry]

Joppa Stew

A commission for the lovely @the-elusive-libbin! Their commission was for 2 characters in T//he B//ad B//atch and their self-insert OC Lily! I did go over the required wordcount for what they paid lol, I just got so excited for it haha! I hope you all like it!

CW: hunger (LOTS), mild stuffing, and a couple of very embarrassed clones lol. Also this is S//tar W//ars, and I'm not SUPER familiar with it so I tried my best with the descriptions, and I'll have you know Joppa Stew IS an actual food in that universe. I did the googles its there

Hunter and Crosshair trudged into the base after a particularly long day. The mission itself had gone… fine, ish, but complications had made it go on for far longer than Hunter had anticipated. As such they hadn’t been given proper rations and well… Crosshair’s stomach has been rumbling for hours now. Not loud enough for a normal person to hear really, but he knew Crosshair was hungry. 

Hunter was hungry too, if he was honest with himself. But that was rare, so he wasn’t hungry, not the slightest bit. His stomach wasn’t even growling. Or… not loud enough for anyone to hear, which is what was most important. Technically now that they were back home at the base they could eat… but Hunter had a feeling that wouldn’t be happening. He had far too much work to do, and Crosshair himself looked bone-tired. Neither of them had the energy to cook, even if they wanted to. Needed to, with the way Crosshair’s stomach was beginning to sound. 

Hunter smiled at Lily as he entered the living area, and headed to his workspace against the wall. Inside, the base was a mix of military efficiency and scrappy improvisation. The main room was a large, cavernous space with rusted durasteel walls and exposed wiring, dimly lit by flickering overhead lights. On one side, a long, makeshift table made up Hunter’s workspace, and it was littered with datapads, empty ration wrappers, and scattered gear. On the other side was a more comfortable space, complete with a couch, coffee table, and Lily herself. 

 She was sitting on the couch there, a drawing pad in her lap, and when she looked up she blew a strand of grey hair out of her eyes as she waved at them. Crosshair was silent as usual, but waved back, then flopped down on the couch next to her, laying down so his legs hung over the armrest and his head was right next to her legs. 

“Good mission?” she asked cheerfully. 

“Mhm,” Crosshair grunted. 

“You two were gone a long time.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you get the bad guys?”

“Mhm.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Mmmm… mm-mm,” Crosshair said with a slight shake of his head.

“No? I’m sorry,” Lily said, running her hand through his short cropped hair. “Well you’re home now, you can relax.” Crosshair grunted a laugh. 

“Knowin’ Hunter he’s just gonna keep working. Reports ‘n mission logs, all that,” he said, cracking open an eye to look at Hunter. Hunter looked back at Crosshair with a tired smile. 

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he said. “You rest.”

Crosshair laughed. “You know him,” he muttered to Lily, though Hunter could still hear. “Always gotta be a big damn hero.”

Crosshair fell silent after that, except for the hungry rumbling in his stomach that Hunter could still hear. It didn’t seem to be quite loud enough for anyone else to yet though, and neither was Hunter’s stomach yet, despite how hungry he was. 

That’s how it went for about an hour. Crosshair dozing on the couch, Lily drawing next to him, Hunter working on mission logs and reports. The hum of a nearby generator provided a low, constant background noise, blending with the occasional drip of water from the cavernous ceiling. That, and of course all the while he can hear his and Crosshair’s stomach giving soft, hungry little gurgles. Every once in a while he felt his stomach clench particularly hard and he’d hold his breath, desperately trying to hide his hunger, and hoping his stomach wouldn’t rumble too loud. He tried to concentrate, but his mind just kept drifting to food…

Warm juicy meat, steaming thick stews, dense aromatic bread, visions of these filled Hunter’s head as he tried to work, and made his mouth water. His stomach clenched, shifting and gurgling with hunger as the images worked into his mind outside his will. It all looked so good, so filling. He took a few drinks of water, hoping it would keep his stomach quiet, but it only made his hunger sharper. 

But as it turns out, he didn’t exactly need to worry about his stomach deciding to make itself known, as a loud, desperate rumbling noise came from behind him. 

Crosshair grimaced as his stomach gave a plaintive growl, his face turning red. His eyes were already closed but he somehow wished he could close them more, like it would help with the embarrassment. 

“Crosshair?” Lily’s voice came from above him. “Are you hungry?”

“Mm-mm,” Crosshair said immediately, shaking his head again. Maybe she would think it’s just a noise from the base. Usually the walls settling didn’t sound like a stomach, but she might believe it if–

Grooooooowwwwwlll

…If his stomach didn’t decide to do it again. 

“It’s no use lying, Crosshair,” Hunter said. “I’ve been listening to your stomach rumbling for hours anyways. You’re starved.”

“Oh and you’re doing so much better, are you?” Crosshair snapped, looking up at Hunter. Hunter opened his mouth to speak, but it seems his stomach decided to fill in for him, as it too gave a starved rumble, forcing him to place a hand on his belly. He grimaced as well, and if it weren’t for his slightly darker skin then he would be just as red as Crosshair was now. 

“Hours??” Lily asked, looking down at Crosshair in surprise. Crosshair laid a hand protectively over his middle and spoke, not meeting her eyes. If he had though, he would’ve seen what Hunter did, which was a small blush coloring her cheeks, and a sparkle of interest in her eyes. 

“We didn’t have enough rations for this mission, it took longer than we thought,” Crosshair said. “They only give us so many for each mission, so… we ran out.”

Lily’s eyes followed as she heard Crosshair’s stomach rumble again, and he rubbed his hand over it. He could feel the vibration under his hand, his stomach was really begging now…

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked, looking up at Hunter this time. Again, that spark of interest was in her eye, but Hunter couldn’t tell if it was concern or… something else.

“Lily really, don’t worry, it’s not–” Hunter’s stomach cut him off with a deep groan, and his flush got deeper. “...Yesterday. At lunch, that was when the ration packs ran out.”

Lily’s blush deepened as her eyes immediately jumped to his belly, and it confirmed Hunter’s suspicions. She was enjoying this. She did seem concerned, a bit, but there was some part of her that seemed to enjoy their hunger. He smirked a little, and watched as her eyes grew a little wider when he placed his hand on his stomach, and started rubbing it. 

“Wow, you must be starving,” Lily said, her eyes still trained on Hunter’s stomach. Crosshair pulled a face however, and shook his head again. 

“It’s really not bad, I’m not that hungry,” he said. His stomach gave a low moan however, rumbling out its displeasure plainly. He sighed and punched a fist into his stomach, swearing under his breath. 

“Well don’t do that!” Lily exclaimed, and she quickly pulled Crosshair’s arm away and put her hand on his belly, giving it soft, gentle rubs. She could feel his stomach growling under her hand, starved rumbles making his way through his abdomen even though not all of them were audible. He felt just as hungry as he sounded, and her face flushed even harder as she stared at his belly. 

Crosshair himself however stared up at her in confusion, looking from his stomach to her face and back again. It felt… good, to have her rub his belly. He hated it, in a way, his stomach growling was just so embarrassing, but her rubbing his abdomen… that might not be so bad. It certainly helped with the feeling of hunger at least. It didn’t exactly ease his hunger, but the pressure felt rather nice. 

At least, until it caused a deep, starved growl to erupt from his stomach, so loud that she could surely feel it in her fingers, and he could feel it reverberate in his ribcage. He pressed his hand over hers, pushing her hand deeper into his stomach as he gave a small groan alongside his stomach. Hunter was right, there wasn’t much use in denying it anymore. She could feel it just as much as he could. 

“I’m starving,” Crosshair mumbled. 

Lily herself felt like she could barely conceal her excitement. The feeling of Crosshair’s stomach against her hand–was she gonna pass out? Fainting from hunger that’s not even her own, how silly that would be! How red was her face? It felt like it was on fire. She was going to combust, right here on the couch. Maybe the smell of the smoke would make their bellies growl louder…

Lily shook herself and snapped back to reality, looking down at Crosshair’s belly rumbling against her hand. 

“Y-You poor things!” Lily exclaimed, putting a hand to her cheek in an attempt to get it to cool down. “I should make you something to eat! Y-You both must be too tired to make anything–I-I can make whatever you want!”

“Joppa stew,” Hunter said immediately. Crosshair and Lily looked back up at him in time to see him clutch his belly as it growled at the mention of the food. He kept his eyes on Lily though, an analytical look in them. 

“J-Joppa stew?” she asked. 

“Doesn’t that take an hour or two to make?” Crosshair spoke up. “Couldn’t we–”

“No, no I think what we really need is some Joppa stew,” Hunter said, giving Crosshair a look. Crosshair frowned at him, but nodded. 

“Yeah, uh, actually that does sound pretty good right about now Lily,” he says. His stomach rumbles again, clearly disagreeing and definitely wanting something at more of the NOW time, but Lily jumped up anyways. 

“I-I’ll go get started!” she said, and she scurried into the kitchen area. Crosshair swung his legs off the armrest and sat up, glaring at Hunter. 

“What the hell? I’m damn near starving over here and you go and tell her to make something that will take until midnight to get done?” he says. His middle gives another growl and he gives it another punch, snapping at it under his breath as his face turns a brighter red. 

“She told ya not to do that,” Hunter said, gesturing at the fist in Crosshair’s stomach. “And if you hadn’t noticed,” he said, leaning down to speak in a lower tone to him, “our Lily seems to be enjoying this.”

Crosshair frowns and looks up at him. 

“Enjoying what?”

“This,” Hunter says, pressing a couple fingers into his stomach and causing it to growl deeply. Crosshair’s eyes widened, but he looked at Hunter like he was crazy. 

“I–What? No, she’s not–” he looked in the direction that Lily left, then back at Hunter. “Is… is that why she put her hand…?” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that too,” Hunter said with a laugh. “I saw your face. You liked that just as much as she did.” He gave Crosshair’s belly a poke, earning a distressed gurgle in return. “Who knew the tough guy here liked belly rubs?”

“Shut–I do not!” Crosshair snapped, but his face turned a brighter red than it had all day. Another growl erupted from his abdomen at that moment, and he quickly clutched his middle and stood up. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

Hunter laughed and followed him in. 

The kitchen corner of the base was a modest but functional setup, tucked away in an alcove near the common area. It had clearly been pieced together from salvaged parts and repurposed equipment. The centerpiece was a battered but sturdy cooking unit, its surface blackened from years of use. The controls were a mix of original knobs and makeshift replacements—some patched with tape, others replaced with scavenged components from droid panels.

A few shelves lined the walls. They were stocked with an eclectic mix of supplies: ration packs, jars of pickled alien fruits, vacuum-sealed grains, and an assortment of spices in mismatched containers. Hanging from hooks along the wall were an array of cooking utensils, from long-handled ladles to a thin knife for precision cutting.

A small, round dining table sat nearby, its surface scratched but clean, surrounded by mismatched chairs scavenged from across the galaxy. The air carried a permanent medley of scents—burnt spices, roasted meat, and old ration packs.

Just the faint smell of food was enough to make Hunter and Crosshair’s stomachs growl loudly, reverberating around the kitchen. Both raised a hand to rub at their bellies, not that it helped much. Hunter actually knew for a fact that it only made a person hungrier, rubbing their stomach. He’d spent plenty of time nursing a starved middle when he wasn’t given enough rations for a mission, like on this one. 

Lily looked up from her spot at the counter at the sound of their hunger, and she grinned widely. “I’m almost done cutting up the vegetables for the stew! And I’ll get to work on cooking the meat soon–You guys are going to love it, it’ll taste so much better than those dry ration packs. No ‘nutritional cubes’ in this, this is real food!”

Hunter’s stomach moaned desperately at this, and by this point he’d learned not to take his hand away from his middle. Not only did it help just for rubbing it, but Lily seemed to be particularly entranced when he did so. He pressed his fingers into his belly, causing the growl to be drawn out for longer, crying out so desperately for food. 

“Damn, you really are hungry, huh Hunter?” Crosshair teased. He was sitting at a stool by the counter, directly across from where Lily was cutting up the food. Hunter sighed and sat next to him. 

“Starved,” he said, unwilling to deny or avoid it any longer. “My stomach’s been growling non-stop all day. Even last night, when I was trying to sleep. I’m surprised it didn’t wake up Crosshair in the middle of the night with how loud it was.”

“It was loud?” Lily asked, dumping the vegetables in a pot of water. Hunter smiled. 

“Not as loud as it is now, but it was rumbling so much it felt like my stomach was shaking,” he said. “I bet if you touched it now, you’d feel it shaking.”

Lily nearly dropped her cutting board trying to set it down, squeaking a little in surprise. 

“I-If I touched it!?” she squeaked. “O-Oh my–you–I–um–”

“You know I think you’re right, Hunter,” Crosshair said, laughing a little. “I think she does like this! You like this don’t you?”

“Wh–I don’t know what you’re talking about!!” Lily stammered, and she quickly turned back to the pot on the stove and stirred the broth, letting steam fill the air. The smell caused Crosshair’s belly to growl deeply, making him press his fist into it rather hard. He seems to have compromised punching his stomach with simply being rough with it. Still, Lily didn’t seem to think that was enough. 

“I-I told you to stop that!” she said, her voice somehow still nervous but stern at the same time. Crosshair rolled his eyes at her. 

“If you want someone to be gentle with it, you’re gonna have to find a gentle person to do that instead, I’m too hungry to be patient with it right now!” he snapped. Hunter raised an eyebrow. 

“Crosshair, you can just tell her what you want, you know,” Hunter said. “She clearly likes rubbing your stomach already, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Both Crosshair and Lily went so red in their faces Hunter was sure they’d both combust into fire right in the kitchen. 

“WHAT–No, no I do not need any more–I’m perfectly fine!” Crosshair stammered quickly, but his stomach gave another desperate growl at that moment, so loud that it echoed around the room. In that moment Crosshair sighed and rubbed his brow, still red in the face but also still unwilling to admit what he wanted. Hunter laughed and addressed Lily. 

“He did like what you did back there. He won’t admit it, but if you rubbed his belly after you were done with the food, I’m sure he’d be happier than ever. Or, as happy as Crosshair can get,” Hunter said, nudging his friend in the shoulder. Crosshair looked at Hunter with a glare, as he so often did, but his eyes softened when they fell on Lily. 

He shrugged, as if to say “he’s not wrong.”

And Lily grinned widely, her face still flushed, and started again on their food. They teased each other over how loud their stomachs were beginning to be as the cooking process went on, Crosshair and Hunter both swallowing hard as their mouths watered, desperate growls filling in any space not occupied by words. Just when they thought it couldn’t get worse though, Lily started cooking the meat. 

The sound that their stomachs made was so loud that Hunter was certain he could feel it in the chair he was sitting on, and he was only barely keeping himself from drooling. He was so hungry, all he could think about was how desperately he wanted that food. His stomach whined and pleaded for it, growling like a starved animal in a cave. 

And when the food was finally placed in front of him… you’d think those two hadn’t eaten in days. Especially Crosshair, who’s stomach was now being rubbed by Lily, only coaxing more and more famished growls from his belly. 

“Fuck, I’m so hungry,” Crosshair moaned as he ate his stew quickly. His stomach grumbled heavily under Lily’s fingers, growling loudly even though he was eating, like it was digesting so fast he couldn’t keep up. They had second helpings. Thirds. Fourths. Crosshair himself needed a fifth, with how desperate his stomach had become from Lily’s gentle rubbing. 

By the end their bellies had swelled out so much they stuck out tight against their uniforms, gurgling happily with all the food packed inside. Hunter felt Lily reach out and give his swollen middle a soft rub, and he smiled at the quiet gurgles it emitted. Lily led them back to the couch with a smile, and she had them lay down next to her, rubbing their swollen bellies until they finally got the rest they deserved. 

[justiceforanders]

Handfuls of You

Part of the "Wings and Blades" Lucanis x Rook Stories

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook (she/her)

Rating: G

Words: 1.2k

Available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61530112

Summary: Lucanis and Rook cook for the Veilguard. Lucanis is down bad.

Handfuls of You is a story written for @victias, as part of my "Wings and Blades" series exploring the romance between Lucanis and different Rooks.

The kitchen in the Lighthouse had a warmth to it, despite its lack of windows; a rare kind of peace, an oasis amid the chaos of the lives of the members of the Veilguard. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. The large dining table sat empty, waiting for the evening meal to be served. The room smelled faintly of spices, herbs, and the unmistakable scent of fresh bread baking in a pot over the coals. Lucanis Dellamorte stood at the tiny counter, knife in hand, slicing vegetables with precision. His movements were sharp and controlled, a stark contrast to the slight furrow of his brow and the way his lips pressed into a thin line.

Lucanis was trying – desperately, almost comically – to focus on the task at hand. Supper wasn’t going to make itself, after all. But his focus was splintered, unraveled by the presence of one particular Shadow Dragon.

Brooke Mercar stood at the other end of the counter, practically pressed to his hip with the size of the work surface, her long ginger hair pulled back into a loose braid that swung softly as she moved. She had a small paring knife in hand and was diligently peeling potatoes, her expression one of calm concentration. Her mismatched eyes – one blue, one green – flicked toward him every so often, though she always glanced away quickly when he noticed.

Lucanis had volunteered for meal duty tonight, as he often did. The companions took turns, but not everyone’s culinary efforts were appreciated equally. Harding’s meals, for instance, were infamous – chaotic concoctions that she seemed to enjoy immensely, though no one else had the heart to tell her the truth. Lucanis, on the other hand, had a knack for remembering what everyone liked, and he took quiet pride in the simple act of making something they could all enjoy.

Tonight, however, was proving to be more challenging than usual. Not because of the meal itself, but because of Brooke’s very presence.

“Do you always cook like this?” Brooke asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, carrying just a hint of curiosity.

“Like what?” Lucanis replied, glancing up from his cutting board. He immediately regretted it. Her eyes were on him, and the soft light of the fire made her hair glow like the brightest of embers.

“Like you’re planning a heist,” she said with a small smile, her tone teasing but kind. “You’re so precise.”

Lucanis huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the vegetables. “Old habits,” he said. “Besides, if I mess it up, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“From who?” she asked, setting down another peeled potato. “Certainly not from me.”

“Everyone,” he said with mock gravity. “Even the stew will judge me.”

That earned him a soft laugh, and the sound of it made something in his chest tighten. He gripped the knife a little harder, focusing on the rhythmic slice of blade against the cutting board. Steady. Controlled. It didn’t matter that Brooke was only a few inches away, close enough for him to catch the faint scent of pine and something sweet, like honey. It didn’t matter that her presence seemed to fill the room, making the air feel heavier, charged with something unspoken.

Except it did matter. It mattered far more than he wanted to admit.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Brooke said after a moment, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Not like you.”

Lucanis smirked faintly. “I didn’t realize I had a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, you do,” she said, her voice light. “You’re a Crow, a mysterious, brooding assassin. Always has something clever to say. Isn’t that what the stories say?”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the crackle of the fire and the soft scrape of knives filling the room. Lucanis risked another glance at her. She was focused on her task, her brows slightly furrowed, her lips pressed together in thought. The scar that ran down her torso was hidden beneath her shirt, but he’d seen it before. It was a stark reminder of the life she’d led, the battles she’d fought. But here, in the quiet of the kitchen, she seemed at ease. Soft, almost.

Too soft for someone like him.

Lucanis frowned, shaking the thought from his mind. He had no right to feel this way – to care for her, to want her. And yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Lucanis?” Brooke’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up, realizing she was watching him once again.

“Hmm?” he managed, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Are you… Are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. Her braid shifted over her shoulder, and he had to force himself not to stare at the way it caught the firelight.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more convincing. “Just… Focused.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press him. Instead, she set down the last peeled potato and reached for the bowl of chopped vegetables at the same time he did. Their hands brushed, and Lucanis froze. Her fingers were warm against his, the touch sending a jolt of something sharp and electric through him.

“Sorry,” Brooke said, pulling her hand back quickly. Her cheeks flushed, a faint pink that he found entirely too endearing.

“No, it’s… It’s fine,” he said, though his voice was quieter now, unsteady. He turned back to the cutting board, gripping the knife much too tightly.

Lucanis could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t dare look up. Instead, he focused on the stew, adding the vegetables with care, stirring the pot slowly. The warmth of the fire seemed to seep into his skin, but it wasn’t enough to quell the heat rising in his chest.

“You’re good at this,” Brooke said after a moment, her voice softer now. “Cooking, I mean.”

“I’ve had practice,” he said, his tone measured – or at least, he hoped. “Someone has to make sure we all survive Harding’s experiments.”

She laughed again, and this time it was louder, brighter. It filled the room, and Lucanis found himself smiling despite himself. When he finally dared to look at her, she was already watching him, her mismatched eyes bright with amusement.

Their gazes held for a moment longer than they should have, and Lucanis felt his stomach twist. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. Brooke’s smile softened, and she looked away first, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

How he longed to do that for her.

“I think that’s everything,” she said, her voice quiet again. “Should I set the table?”

“Yeah,” Lucanis said, nodding. “That… That would be good.”

As she moved to gather the plates and utensils, Lucanis turned back to the stew, his jaw tight. He stirred the pot absently, his mind elsewhere. The tension in the room hadn’t dissipated, not entirely. It lingered, like the faint scent of pine and honey, like the warmth of her touch.

You like Rook, Spite cackled.

Lucanis sighed quietly, running a hand through his hair. This was going to be a long night.

[milk-tea-sakura]

𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎- 𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓅𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜, 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝒷𝒾𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐻𝓎𝓊𝓃𝒿𝒾𝓃 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓂 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒹... 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓈.

𝒞𝓌: 𝒮𝓂𝓊𝓉, 𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒

The soft golden light of the morning sun streamed through the curtains, filling the room with a warm and intimate glow. Hyunjin, Changbin, and Y/n were all still asleep, each snuggled warmly under the pile of blankets and plush pillows.  

Hyunjin was the first to wake, stretching his arms above his lines and letting out a soft yawn. He glanced over at the other two sleeping figures next to him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he took in the sight.

Hyunjin chuckled softly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Just a little," he said, his voice low and suggestive. He glanced over at Changbin, a smirk on his lips. "You know what we should do while she's still sleeping?"

Changbin raised an eyebrow, a sly grin on his face. "Oh, I think I have a few ideas," he said, his voice quiet so as not to wake Y/n. "But I'd like to hear your thoughts first."

Hyunjin's smirk turned even more devious. "Well, it involves us getting even closer to her," he said, his voice soft and sultry. "And I have a feeling she won't mind a bit when she wakes up."  

Changbin chuckled softly, his hand resting on Y/n's hip. "I like that idea," he said, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her skin. "But you know we have to be careful not to wake her up too soon."

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on Y/n's sleeping form. "Of course," he said. "She needs her beauty sleep, after all."  

He shifted a little closer to her, his fingers tracing a lazy path up and down her side under the blankets. "But we can still have some fun while we wait for her to wake up, can't we?"

Changbin chuckled lowly, his hand moving up from Y/n's hip to her hair, gently running his fingers through the silky strands. "Oh, definitely," he said, his voice a bit huskier than before. "We can keep ourselves occupied until she decides to join us."  

Hyunjin's hand moved to Y/n's thigh, his fingers tracing light circles on her skin, but staying just above the hem of her shorts. "Let's see how long we can keep her asleep," he said, his voice a low, seductive whisper.

Changbin bit his lip, his eyes flickering from Y/n's sleeping form to Hyunjin's wicked smile. "You're a bad influence," he said, but his tone was affectionate rather than disapproving.  

Hyunjin's smirk widened. "And you love it," he murmured, his hand continuing its slow, lazy path up and down Y/n's thigh.

Changbin chuckled, unable to deny the truth of Hyunjin's words. "Oh, I definitely do," he said, his voice laced with amusement. He leaned in a little closer, his eyes fixed on Hyunjin's hand on Y/n's thigh. "You know, you're making it really hard for me to keep my hands to myself right now."

Hyunjin's smirk turned into a full-fledged grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said you had to keep your hands to yourself?" he teased, his fingers still tracing tantalizing circles on Y/n's skin.  

Changbin's eyes darkened, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "You always know just what to say to get to me," he said, his hand leaving Y/n's hair to rest on Hyunjin's shoulder.

Hyunjin chuckled softly, his fingers finding their way under the hem of Y/n's shorts. "And you always react so nicely," he said, his voice low and sultry. "I can't help myself sometimes."  

Changbin's grip on Hyunjin's shoulder tightened, his fingers digging into the material of Hyunjin's shirt. "You're going to drive me crazy, you know that?" he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Hyunjin's grin widened even further, his fingers still wandering along Y/n's thigh. "That's the goal," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I want to see you lose control."  

Changbin's fingers twitched against Hyunjin's shoulder, his eyes flickering from Hyunjin's face to Y/n's sleeping form. "You're playing a dangerous game, you know that?" he said, his voice strained.

Hyunjin chuckled again, his fingers finally reaching the apex of Y/N's thigh, tracing the smooth skin there with a feather-light touch. "I know," he said, his voice almost unbearably enticing. "But where's the fun in being safe all the time?"

Changbin swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on where Hyunjin's hand was touching Y/N's skin. "You're testing all my self-control right now, you know that?" he muttered, his fingers gripping Hyunjin's shirt even tighter.  

His other hand moved to Y/N's hip, gently pushing up her shirt to reveal more of her soft, warm skin. His fingers glided along her stomach, tracing gentle patterns on her skin.

Hyunjin laughed softly, his hand still tracing tantalizing circles on Y/N' s thigh. "Oh, I know," he said, his voice filled with mischief. "But I have a feeling you're enjoying the challenge, aren't you?"  

Changbin let out a low, ragged breath, his fingers exploring more of Y/N's bare skin beneath her shirt. "You know I am," he said, his voice strained with desire.

Y/N stirred softly, her eyes slowly fluttering open as she became aware of the sensations on her body. She could feel Changbin's fingers tracing patterns on her stomach, and Hyunjin's hand on her thigh.  

She let out a soft, sleepy sound, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Mmm... what are you two up to?" she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

Hyunjin chuckled softly, his fingers still tracing lazy circles on her thigh. "Oh, just having a little fun while you slept," he said, his voice smooth and seductive.  

Changbin's hand on her stomach stilled for a moment, but then he continued his gentle caresses. "Did we wake you up?" he asked, his voice dripping with guiltless innocence.

Y/N hummed softly, her eyes still half-lidded as she glanced between the two. "Maybe a little bit," she said, her voice still drowsy but laced with amusement. "But I don't mind."  

She shifted slightly, stretching out her limbs and moaning softly at the sensations from Changbin and Hyunjin's touches.

Hyunjin's hand on her thigh squeezed gently, his fingers creeping up a little higher. "Good," he said, his voice dropping to a deeper, huskier tone. "Because we weren't planning on stopping anytime soon."  

Changbin's fingers on her stomach moved a little higher, his fingers tracing the edge of her bra through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Especially not when you make noises like that," he said, his voice laced with desire.

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly at Changbin's words, a shiver running down her spine as his fingers continued their torturous path along her stomach. "You two are impossible," she said, her voice a mix of feigned annoyance and desire.  

Her hand came up, tracing a gentle path along Changbin's jawline, her fingers skimming over his lips.

Changbin's eyes darkened at her touch, his lips parting slightly to allow her fingers to brush against them. "We can't help it when you're so damn irresistible," he said, his voice a low, hungry rumble.  

Hyunjin's hand on her thigh moved even higher, his fingers gently rubbing the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh. "And when you make such delicious noises," he added, his voice thick with craving.

"Hyunjin, more"

Hyunjin smirked, his fingers responding to her command by moving higher up her thigh, rubbing slow, tantalizing circles closer and closer to her core. "As you wish," he said, his voice full of barely restrained desire.

Y/N let out a soft, needy whimper, her body arching slightly at the feel of Hyunjin's fingers moving closer to where she wanted them most. "God, you're such a tease," she murmured, her voice a little breathless.  

Changbin leaned in, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and chest, his tongue darting out to taste her skin.

Hyunjin's fingers were now tracing the edge of her shorts, his touch light and teasing as he moved closer and closer to the sensitive flesh beneath. "But you love it," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.  

Changbin's lips left a trail of kisses down her collarbone, his tongue occasionally peeking out to taste her skin. "We know exactly how to get you worked up," he whispered, his voice a low growl.

Y/N trembled at their touches, her body responding eagerly to their caresses. "You're both insufferable," she gasped, her words contradicting her body's reactions.  

Hyunjin's fingers still teased, not quite giving her the direct contact she craved. "That's not what your body is telling us," he said, a smug, satisfied smile on his lips.

Changbin chuckled softly, his lips now moving back up her neck to her ear. "I think her body is telling us she's enjoying every second of this," he murmured, his teeth gently nipping at her earlobe.  

Hyunjin, finally taking pity on her, let his fingers brush against her through the thin fabric of her shorts. "How's that?" he asked, his voice low and sultry.

Y/N let out a choked moan, her body arching against Hyunjin's hand at the sudden pressure against her. "So good," she gasped, her fingers gripping Changbin's shirt tightly.  

Changbin's lips left her ear, his gaze fixed on her face as he watched her reaction to Hyunjin's touch. "You like that, baby?" he growled, his body pressed close against her side.

Hyunjin chuckled, his fingers now applying a bit more pressure, rubbing small circles against her sensitive skin. "I can tell," he said, his voice thick with pride. "She's so responsive, isn't she?"

Changbin hummed in agreement, his hand moving from her stomach to her hip, his fingers digging into her skin. "So damn responsive," he agreed, his eyes dark with desire.

Y/N's body quivered, her hips arching up into Hyunjin's touch, seeking more of the delicious friction he provided. "Please," she gasped, her eyes meeting Hyunjin's, pleading for more.  

Hyunjin's smirk widened, his fingers continuing their slow, maddening circles against her. "Please what, baby? Use your words."

Y/N groaned in frustration, her body on fire with need. "Stop teasing me," she panted, her voice a hoarse, needy whine. "Give me more."  

Changbin let out a low growl at her words, his thumb tracing along the waistband of her shorts. "God, she's so desperate for it," he said, his voice a rough whisper.

Hyunjin's hand moved faster, his fingers applying more pressure, giving her the friction she craved. "Is this what you want, baby?" he asked, his voice a low, sultry murmur.  

Changbin's thumb slipped under the waistband of her shorts, his breath hot against her neck. "I think she needs more," he said, his voice thick with desire.

"Binnie, please. Please give me more" You beg

Changbin's breath hitched at her needy words, his eyes dark with desire. Without hesitating, he slid his hand all the way under the waistband of her shorts, his palm pressing against her sensitive flesh. "Like this?" he asked, his voice rough and hungry.

Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, her body arching to meet his touch. "Yes, like that," she breathed, her voice a hoarse moan.  

Hyunjin chuckled, his fingers still rubbing tight circles against her, his eyes fixed on the sight of Changbin's hand disappearing under her shorts. "She's so beautiful when she begs, isn't she?" he murmured, his voice thick with admiration.

"So god damn beautiful," Changbin agreed, his hand beginning to move against her, his touch firm and sure. "I could listen to her beg all day long."  

Hyunjin hummed in agreement, his fingers still applying gentle, but ever-increasing pressure against her. "I'm not sure how long we can make her wait, though," he said, his tone filled with barely-restrained desire.

Y/N let out a choked moan, her body trembling under their combined attention. "I don't know how much more of this I can take," she gasped, her voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation.  

Changbin let out a gruff chuckle, his fingers increasing their pace, teasing and tantalizing. "I think she's reached her limit," he said, his voice a low, rumbling growl.

Hyunjin nodded, his hands still working against her in a steady, relentless rhythm. "Oh, she has. She's so close, I can feel it," he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and desire.  

Changbin leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Beg for it, baby," he whispered, his voice a rough, urgent command.

Y/N whined, her body writhing under their touch, her brain foggy with pleasure. "Please," she gasped, her voice a needy, pleading plea. "Please, I can't take it anymore. I need...I need..."  

Changbin's smile was almost feral as he picked up the pace, his fingers working her expertly. "Say it, baby. Tell us what you need."

Y/N's body trembled, teetering on the edge, her words a breathless, desperate plea. "I need...I need...I need you. Both of you," she gasped, her voice broken and needy.  

Changbin groaned deeply at her words, his fingers moving even faster. "She's so goddamn perfect," he rasped, his voice filled with a mixture of possession and desire.

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, his touch never ceasing its relentless assault. "She is perfectly ours," he said, his voice a low, possessive growl. "And we're going to give her exactly what she needs."  

Changbin leaned in, his lips finding her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. "You want us, baby?" he murmured against her ear.

Y/N nodded vigorously, her body arching wildly under their touch. "Yes, yes, I want you both," she gasped, her voice a ragged whisper.  

Hyunjin hummed in approval, his hand slipping under her shirt to tease at her chest. "We've got you, sweetheart. Just let go."

Changbin pressed harder against her, his fingers working deftly, his teeth leaving a trail of love bites along her neck. "Let go, baby. We've got you," he echoed, his voice a hoarse, comforting murmur.  

Y/N's body tensed, her breath coming in erratic gasps, teetering on the edge of release. "I'm...I'm..." she began, her voice a breathless, needy whine.

Hyunjin's lips lifted in a satisfied, wicked smile. "Let go, baby. We want to feel you unravel," he said, his fingers still working against her, driving her relentlessly towards the edge.  

Changbin, if possible, picked up the pace even more, his touch rough and intense. "That's it, sweetheart. Let go for us," he growled, his voice thick with desire and need.

Y/N's body suddenly tensed, her back arching off the bed as she reached her peak. A strangled cry escaped her lips, her nails digging into Changbin's arms as she unraveled under their touch.

Hyunjin slowly removed his hand from her, his lips lifting in a satisfied smirk. "That's our girl," he murmured, his voice laced with affection and desire.

Changbin gently removed his hand as well, his arms coming around her, holding her close as she trembled in the aftermath. "You did so well, baby," he murmured, his voice a soothing, loving rumble.  

Hyunjin moved in as well, his body pressing against her from the other side, his arms encircling her, completing their embrace. "So, so well," he echoed, his voice filled with pride.

[abnomi]

EVERY REASON (that i can think of) AS TO WHY TURBO/KING CANDY IS NEURODIVERGENT 💥💥

i would like to make a disclaimer first and foremost about the obvious, being that Turbo/King Candy is heavily implied to have narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) and antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). Very often, characters with these disorders are portrayed as villains, and Turbo is no exception to this. There's nothing wrong with antagonistic characters having said disorders, per se, but when the only representation available for people with these conditions are found in characters you're not supposed to root for, it can be really disheartening. i won't be erasing these parts of him because i feel it would be in poor taste to gloss over those core elements of who he is, but plz keep in mind that having any kind of personality disorder doesn't make anyone inherently evil!!!🌞 your ACTIONS make you, not your brain

Also if anyone has any suggestions or other ideas for his neurodiversity, i would love to hear them! please do share!! I LOVE PSYCHOANALYZING CHARACTERS AND HEARING OTHER PEOPLE PSYCHOANALYZE THEM !!!! YAY🎉 if u agree or disagree with any of my points I'd love to discuss them further :-]

without further ado... click read more to find out…😈 be ready for a lot of reaches

💥 ADHD 💥

STIMMING

Turbo's constantly moving around in some way; he's a very expressive character! even as King Candy, he can't seem to conceal his frequent giggling. it's a big habit of his; he seems to do it involuntarily to regulate himself, including when he's nervous or uncomfortable.

he seems to display other repetitive behaviors as well, like doing his iconic thumbs-up pose, sticking out his tongue, or hopping around gleefully. he is but a jovial court jester..

i personally like to think that his phrases, "Turbo-tastic!" and "Have some candy!" are vocal stims of his, although i equally really love the interpretation that these (and the aforementioned stims) are tics :-]

another headcanon; i think it would make a lot of sense for him to have an oral fixation of some sort (ignoring the whole sigmund freud part of the term ermm...); just lots of biting, chewing, needing to have something in his mouth. It would align with the whole idea that he smokes, too

HYPERACTIVITY

we can clearly see throughout the film that Turbo has a lot of energy, made abundantly clear by his mannerisms and general behavior. he's constantly moving, using exaggerated expressions and gestures to communicate + express himself. He's one of the most animated and bouncy characters in the movie, next to Vanellope! it's silly how a character not very grounded in reality is such a threat, but i suppose that's what makes him so threatening in the first place...

another factor in this is how he is very adrenaline-seeking, craving activities that give him a rush (sugar rush...😂😂). more on that in a bit!!

HYPERFIXATION

Turbo's fixation with winning is all-consuming for him; it's an obsession. he doesn't appear to care about much else, if anything besides it. this could be interpreted as a hyperfixation for him (or special interest if ur all about that autism lifestyle), as it overtakes all of his focus and impedes every process of his mind.

it's clear that racing is much more than a passion for him, and while that fact is due to how he was programmed, it's a major character trait of his regardless that could be correlated to neurodivergence.

HYPERFOCUS

There seems to be a big theme of "all or nothing" when it comes to Turbo. he will either be fully dedicated to something or brush it aside without a second thought. it can't be denied that he fully wraps himself up in what he wants, whether it's a conflict he can't let go of or a new pursuit he's hungrily chasing after. 

ultimately, his dedication varies depending on if it is relevant to him and his interests or not, but this aspect of him still shares patterns with neurodivergent thought processes.

INSTANT GRATIFICATION

Seeing as he has a tendency to cheat in his use of code to spawn in whatever his heart desires, it can be assumed that this could do with Turbo wanting instant gratification to fill that bitter, empty void inside of him. while this could simply be brushed aside as greed and his belief that he is obligated to have access to whatever he wants, this trait is consistent with his generally dopamine-seeking behavior and wanting to be instantly rewarded by his actions. His obsession with needing to feel good directly relates to his need for another buzz, constantly after the next rush. (a sugar rush if you will☺☺☺)

ADRENALINE-SEEKING

Closely related to the previous speculation, Turbo always seems to be chasing his next high. he loves the thrill of action and being surrounded by crowds of people below him. it's why his big thing is racing! people cheer him on, he can do whatever he wants, he can go really fast and look cool..

it's possible that a big aspect of why he does this is to distract himself from any kind of pain, because pain = vulnerability. bro does NOT know how to independently cope with his own problems.. HE MAD AS HELLLLL!!! 😂😂

STRUGGLE WITH SELF CARE

(i know this is reaching but bear with me... 🐻) going off of his appearance and tendency to make poor decisions, it can be gathered that this man lacks skill in the self care department. his yellowing teeth and sunken eyes not only serve to complement his design, but also give way to the idea that he neglects himself in favor for whatever weird scheme he's up to.

of course, Turbo does prioritize himself above everyone else, but he doesn't strike me as the type to care much about how others think he smells. him being a bother to anyone isn't a concern of his. he cares about whatever gets him the most praise and attention from as many people as possible, which is winning and racing. Who cares about how clean he is when he's up on a podium holding a shiny, golden trophy, anyway?

It's likely that he had to step his game up when he went under disguise as king candy, which is why he looks well-groomed in comparison to his more corpse-like appearance. Ugly hoe. it can also be assumed that he's had more time to focus on himself because everyone loves him without question... Well, except for Vanellope, but who cares about her, right?

also, i know he makes a condescending comment to Ralph about how bad his breath smells, but it's made abundantly clear that Turbo is a massive hypocrite. his comment doesn't erase the possibility that he has suffered from such "halitosis" as well.

💥 ANXIETY 💥

GENERAL ANXIOUS BEHAVIOR

i know, i know, this could technically be chalked up to be "Turbo is nervously giggling and shit because he's scared of getting caught," but guys. g

even in the flashback scene, we can see how easily stressed he can become in an alarmingly short period of time. he is extremely insecure, therefore i am led to believe he is not only emotionally dysregulated, but also by extension, anxiety ridden.

yes, this is purely speculative, but who's to say that he wasn't like this before? being high-strung and intense are significant facets of his personality consistently portrayed throughout the film. as long as he is getting exactly what he wants, he is happy; the moment he loses even a blip of control, however, he immediately grows extremely tense.

if Turbo wasn't anxious about his disguise as King Candy before, he was anxious about how much attention he was receiving on a given day. if not that, then he'd be anxious over how he presents himself. He hates how he can't control how other people perceive him, which is why he is constantly trying to act like he's better than he is.

its why he justifies his behavior to himself, proudly making others refer to him as the "rightful ruler" of sugar rush and relishing in the attention of his countless underlings. Any secure and stable person would NOT ACT LIKE THIS!!!!😭😭😭

FIGHT OR FLIGHT

As we can see a handful of times on screen, Turbo's instinct to protect himself is very easily activated.

 his fear manifests in anger and aggression. we can see at multiple points how easy it is to upset him or fluster him; his anger is one side of the same coin, the opposite end being his fear and paranoia.

Going off of this point, have you noticed that Turbo is either satisfied or furious without much of an in-between? how the second something isn't under his manipulation, he lashes out and fights back? I'm led to believe that this is how he responds to fear (AAUAAYAUUUUGGHHH 🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡). This guy is so against the idea of being vulnerable, that even when afraid, he will utilize violence to regain his dominance over the situation at hand.

CONTROL + PARANOIA

Turbo's always trying to writhe or fight his way out of uncomfortable situations, unable to exist outside of his comfort zone for seconds at a time.

his defensive, paranoid, and controlling behavior are all reflections of how deeply insecure this man is. He feels such an intense need for everything to go exactly how he expects it to go that the moment he senses any kind of threat, he instantly jumps to defend himself and what he feels that he has "earned," regardless of whether there truly is a threat or not.

this could potentially be a coping mechanism for his anxiety and sense of stability; can't forget to mention how territorial he is!! he jumps to conclusions about what others' intentions are before they even get a chance to reply, as seen with his first encounter with Ralph in the movie. 

the racer is so internally discombobulated that he seeks any sense of stability on his environment, including on those around him. his sense of self is so warped that he copes with constant distraction; being under the spotlight, being actively racing, having to be showered with attention, having others make him feel good because he doesn't know how to do it for himself. he needs to feel like everything is under control, lest everything falls apart.

"...if there's ONE thing I can't abide, it's ANYTHING out of order!"

💥 NPD 💥

INFLATED SENSE OF SELF IMPORTANCE

Turbo's most in-your-face trait above all else. It's made more than crystal clear in every scene he's in that his arrogance is a determining factor in how he interacts with others. This is exactly what drives him to desperately crave admiration, to chase after others he's envious of because he thinks he is obligated to take what they have.

he seems to genuinely think he is entitled to get whatever he wants, just because he is inherently "special" or "better" than everyone else. Why else would he have made himself a king, a step above princess?

EXCESSIVE NEED FOR ADMIRATION

Turbo's self worth is COMPLETELY dependent on the opinions of children and teenagers. I think i don't need to say any more than that, but i will. (Evil).

As cartoonishly massive as his ego is, i think that it's fair to assume that Turbo has a very unstable sense of self, distorting his perception of his own worth down with it. his near-constant flaunting and need to be the best is a dead giveaway to his deeply-ridden self-doubt. The foundation of his stability is built around how "good" he is (at racing and winning), how powerful he is, whether or not he is being prioritized above everyone else, whether or not he is the absolute best, etc. etc.

The racer outright manipulates others to shower him with admiration and undeserved appreciation. He is incapable of forming a true sense of internal value, instead heavily and codependently relying on others to form it for him. if he isn't the best, he may as well just be nothing.

INTENSE JEALOUSY

He reacts so severely to what he perceives as others taking away what is rightfully his that it only goes to solidify my previous points even further. the second someone else is getting more attention than him, Turbo will bend over backwards to rip back the praise he believes he so rightly deserves.

being extremely competitive, he will one-up against anyone he thinks of as a threat, dedicating himself to taking them down to the best of his ability, and making sure they STAY down to top it all off.

INABILITY TO HANDLE CRITICISM

if we really dissect the entire one-off joke with Turbo insisting that his stolen pink castle is actually "salmon," along with all of his other domineering behaviors, we can garner that he is very persistent in how he wants others to view him. i wholeheartedly believe that this would translate into him not only being defensive over his supposed "ownership" of Sugar Rush, but also over himself and his own insecurities.

He needs to feel good about himself or else he will die and quite literally try to kill everyone.

LACK OF EMPATHY

He appears to have a fondness for making jokes in very poor taste. Turbo has a big sense of humor, but it's always at the expense of others. Be it a pun about a "fungeon," or jumping to protect himself with a joke about "hitting a guy with glasses," he has a tendency to take serious situations very lightly. It's not that he's unaware of the weight of it; he simply doesn't take it Seriously.

its admittedly impressive how he was able to feign empathy so well for Ralph; it goes to show how he is very capable of understanding that what he's doing is wrong, but ultimately does nothing to change his behavior because it doesn't impact him personally. 

i would like to honor this part of him, because even in the possible alternate path of a redemption arc, his struggle with empathy can be explored in a variety of interesting ways :-] he can understand complicated emotions and situations on an analytical level, but he doesn't feel for them unless it has to do with him specifically. (this obviously doesn't make him inherently evil, his ACTIONS make him evil)

💥 ASPD 💥

LACK OF REMORSE/GUILT

One of Turbo's core characteristics is just how far he is willing to go for his own self-interest with lack of regard for how it impacts everyone else. he has absolutely no concern for how anyone else feels besides himself, willing to go so far as to attempt to mutilate a 9-year-old to achieve his petty goals.

Turbo is shameless when it comes to how he goes about getting his way. While I'd like to believe he isn't fully incapable of feeling regret, he doesn't showcase feeling it in the movie itself. The most regret he'll feel is when he slips up and exposes himself. anything else is the fault of everyone else; he is untouchable in his eyes.

DECEITFUL TENDENCIES + LYING

Where do i even start with this one.

well, first of all, let's acknowledge the... erm, horse? in the room? 🐎😅(Please someone help me there is a horse in my room help helphel) being that Turbo went under disguise as King Candy for at least a decade. Even before this, there's a good chance that he's already had plenty of experience with lies and manipulation. i'd be willing to bet on this!!

one of his specialties is being proficient in manipulation, be it the code of games or the minds of people. theyre basically the same thing to him, anyway... I'm sure you all know the scene where he uses 16 manipulation tactics against Ralph and wins. this was Obviously not the first time he'd done this.

REPETITION OF HARMFUL BEHAVIORS

Time and time again, Turbo can't seem to help himself when it comes to poor decision-making. he never internalizes that his bad choices aren't JUST bad for others, but also for himself, continuing to escalate further and further into very dangerous behaviors until he literally dies.

Here's a list of bad decisions he has made! (at least, that we know of)

Pinning himself above his peers

Harassment + stalking

Carelessly charging through GCS with his car, endangering countless civilians

Attempting to take over a game that isn't his x2

Vehicular manslaughter

Implied mass murder + attempted murder, attempted mutilation

Mass endangerment

Breaking and entering, theft, usurpation, plagiarism

and more!!!!!!!

AND HE LEARNS FROM ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THIS!!! with some of the items listed here, he's attempted to do multiple times! Absolute buffoon.

RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR SAFETY OF SELF AND OTHERS

Considering how he was willing to charge into a game that wasn't his own with the awareness that it could permanently kill him, going as far as to recklessly crash into another car (albeit it's possible this was unintentional), it's easy to gather that he doesn't seem to consider anyone's safety at all in the spur of the moment.

IMPULSITIVITY

his impulsivity and disregard for safety both go hand-in-hand. When it gets to a certain point, Turbo's emotions will boil over and blow up in a cold rage, thus causing him to spiral and act on impulse, becoming a detrimental force to himself as well as everyone around him.

What's interesting is how much restraint he is capable of; he typically is very strategic in how he orchestrates his plans! but once he reaches his breaking point, he snaps and leaves all of his hard work behind in favor of something that calls for his immediate attention.

💥 ETC. 💥

extra tidbits i didnt have enough energy to fully delve into :-]

BPD

Fear of abandonment

Blurry sense of identity

Feelings of emptiness

Self destructive tendencies

Emotional instability

Explosive anger

ODD (oppositional defiant disorder)

He seems so infatuated with his own autonomy that he gets to the point of being resistant and defiant

Resisting against the rules of the world that he directly caused as a result of his own actions, being that one shouldn't "go Turbo."

Enjoys upsetting/getting a rise out of others. this is more speculative as i am going off of the assumption that he thinks pissing people off is funny, based on his other behavioral patterns. (cruel sense of humor, wanting to feel above others via control & manipulation, enjoyment of inflicting pain onto others)

Forcefully defends himself and refuses any kind of criticism

Lashes out when he feels slighted

Excessive persistence despite all odds, whether it's beneficial to him or not

ok bye!! thank you if you managed to read this far ^^ peace and love take care of yourself! all in all turbo is so neurodivergent ok please Okay <3 get this thing his meds

[marblerose-rue]

click for better quality!

whaddaya think makes tracks like that? / needletail and violetpaw