#what do you mean that's your brother who you love and it ticks you off when people speak badly about him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellobykittys · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 2.6k WARNING: enemies to lovers, teasing, fake relationship

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

The meeting room was lit by cold lights reflecting off an impeccably clean glass table. Charles Leclerc sat at the head, his chin resting on his hand, visibly bored. The tension in the air was thick, and he already knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well. Around the table, members of Ferrari’s PR team sat, along with Lorenzo Leclerc, Charles’ older brother and personal manager.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, crossing his arms. His voice carried the firmness of someone tired of useless discussions. “Charles, we need to talk about your reputation.”

Charles rolled his eyes, setting his phone down on the table.

“My reputation? You mean the circus the media makes out of everything I do?”

“It’s not a circus if you keep giving them material,” Sofia, Ferrari’s PR head, cut in. A woman with short hair and piercing eyes, Sofia was known for her blunt and impatient approach.

“Seriously?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to control my personal life too?”

Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Charles, we’re not here to debate who’s right or wrong. We’re here because your image is directly affecting your career.”

“My career’s fine,” Charles shot back, crossing his arms.

Sofia slammed a folder full of tabloid clippings on the table, making a sharp noise.

“Is it? Because from what we see here, it doesn’t look like it. ‘Charles Leclerc spotted at a party until 5 AM with a mysterious model.’ ‘Ferrari driver involved in a new controversy after a fight at a club.’ This affects the sponsors, Charles. It affects the Ferrari brand.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.

“Look, I get it. But what do you want me to do? Lock myself in my house?”

“Not exactly,” Sofia replied with a cold smile that made Charles immediately suspicious.

Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying to soften what was coming.

“Charles, we’ve come up with a solution that could help clean up your image quickly while you focus on what really matters: your performance on the track.”

“Great. So, what’s the plan?” he asked, clearly impatient.

Sofia leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table.

“We’re going to put you in a fake relationship.”

The silence that followed was so deep that you could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Charles blinked a few times, sure he’d misunderstood.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We’re not,” Sofia replied, serious. “The idea is simple. We want to associate your image with a public figure who’s seen as positive, inspiring, and… balanced.”

“You want me to fake being in love with someone to save my reputation? This is ridiculous!”

“It’s not that simple, Charles,” Lorenzo tried to intervene. “We’re not asking you to fall in love. It’s a contract. An agreement. None of this has to be real.”

Charles laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

“And who’s this poor soul you’ve hired for this?”

Sofia smiled, clearly expecting this question.

“Y/N.”

The name hit the silence like a shot. Charles frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard it. It didn’t take long before the girl’s face popped into his mind. She was impossible to ignore on social media, with her impeccable style, viral videos, and appearances at fashion and entertainment events.

“You’re talking about that… influencer?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not just any influencer. She’s the influencer right now,” Sofia corrected. “Everyone loves her. She’s elegant, charismatic, and has a solid fanbase. Associating with her will change the public’s perception of you.”

“You want me to fake dating a girl I barely know and who probably thinks race cars are just fancy toys?” Charles shot back, irritated.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm.

“Charles, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But think of it as a strategy. Y/N isn’t just an influencer. She’s professional, ambitious, and has as much to gain from this as you do.”

“Great. So, she’s doing it for personal gain too,” Charles said sarcastically.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t about what she wants, it’s about what you need.”

Charles sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the table. The idea seemed absurd. He didn’t want to give up his freedom for some farce that, deep down, made no sense to him.

“You guys must be crazy if you think I’ll agree to this,” Charles declared, suddenly standing up. His voice echoed through the room, but no one seemed surprised by his reaction.

Lorenzo sighed, already expecting this kind of response. He knew his brother too well to think he’d accept something so outside his comfort zone without resistance.

“Charles, sit down,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and authoritative. “You have every right to be angry, but if you keep acting like a spoiled child, you won’t get anywhere.”

“A spoiled child?” Charles laughed darkly, pointing at his brother. “This coming from you, trying to convince me to join this ridiculous show. It’s my life, Lorenzo! I’m not a puppet for you guys to manipulate.”

Sofia intervened, trying to stay professional, but her patience was clearly wearing thin.

“Charles, understand this: we’re talking about your career. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team, the sponsors, the thousands of jobs that depend on Ferrari’s success. Formula 1 is a business, and in this business, your image is as important as your driving skills.”

“My driving skills should be the only thing that matters!” he shot back, pointing to himself. “I’m a driver. That’s what I do. I’m not a celebrity who needs a fake romance to get attention.”

“Don’t be naive, Charles,” Sofia replied coldly. “In today’s world, public perception is everything. You could be the best driver on the grid, but if your image keeps getting tied to scandals, no one will want to invest in you.”

Lorenzo crossed his arms, looking at his brother seriously.

“You know she’s right. You don’t have to like the idea, but you have to accept that it’s necessary.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the knot in his throat only tightened. He hated the idea of being seen as someone who couldn’t control his own life, but Lorenzo and Sofia had a point: the external pressure was becoming unbearable.

“Why her?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.

Sofia gave a slight smile, as though she’d been waiting for this question.

“Because Y/N is exactly what you need. She has an impeccable reputation, knows how to handle the media, and most importantly, knows how to play the game.”

“And how are you so sure she’ll agree to this?” Charles asked, crossing his arms.

“We’ve already talked to her,” Lorenzo revealed. “She agreed. Obviously, she has her conditions, but she’s willing to collaborate.”

Charles laughed, incredulous.

“Of course she agreed. She’s probably loving the idea of being associated with me. She’ll gain even more followers and the ‘Wag’ title. That must be her dream.”

“Don’t underestimate Y/N,” Sofia warned. “She’s far from being a superficial girl. If she agreed, it’s because she saw value in the proposal, just like we did.”

Charles fell silent for a moment, processing everything that had been said. He felt a mix of anger, frustration, and, in a way, helplessness. He hated being put against the wall, but he knew refusing wouldn’t solve his problems.

“And how long is this going to last?” he asked, his disgust evident.

“The contract is for a year,” Lorenzo answered. “Long enough to solidify the lie, but short enough not to be unsustainable.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” Sofia assured him confidently.

Charles let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“I hate you guys.”

“Feel free to hate us all you want,” Lorenzo replied, standing up. “But do what needs to be done.”

Sofia grabbed the folder and gave one last look at Charles.

“Y/N will be here tomorrow to talk officially. Hope you’re ready.”

With that, everyone began to leave the room, leaving Charles alone. He slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that, like it or not, his life was about to change.

The meeting room was spacious and well-lit, with glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city. Charles Leclerc was already there, on time this time, sitting next to the conference table in a relaxed yet attentive posture. He was casually flipping through a document, but his mind was elsewhere. The decision to accept the deal still felt surreal.

When the door opened, he lifted his eyes and saw Y/N entering with confident steps. She looked calm, self-assured. She wore a fitted blazer and pants that accentuated her confident posture. Her perfume reached him before her voice, subtle yet striking.

“Hope I’m not late,” she said, placing her bag on a chair and giving Charles a brief glance before looking away.

“You’re not,” he replied, giving a slight nod, observing her carefully.

Lorenzo and Sofia entered right after, carrying folders and an air of seriousness.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, taking his seat at the head of the table. “You both know how important this partnership is, both for the team and for your respective careers.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice, right?” Y/N commented, not aggressively, but with a touch of realism.

“Not exactly,” Sofia answered, unfazed. “But we expect you to see the mutual benefit in this.”

Charles leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Y/N for a moment before speaking.

“And you? What do you think of all this?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but maintained her composure.

“I think it’s… unexpected. But I won’t deny it’s an opportunity. And you?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering.

“I think it could work, as long as we follow a few rules.”

“Rules?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answered, with a slight smile. “Like, don’t try to kill me in front of the cameras.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, almost genuine.

“I think I can follow that.”

Lorenzo interrupted, trying to keep the focus.

“Great. Let’s start by clarifying expectations. You’ll need to attend events together, create interactions for social media, and above all, look natural.”

“Does that mean we need to get to know each other better?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Charles, this time with less provocation and more curiosity.

“Probably,” he replied, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary.

Sofia cleared her throat.

“For that, we recommend starting with something simple. A dinner, maybe. Nothing formal, just so you get used to being together outside a professional setting.”

Y/N looked away, pretending to think, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about the idea.

“Seems fair,” she finally said, grabbing a pen to sign the contract placed in front of her.

Charles didn’t say anything but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile. He grabbed his own copy of the contract and signed it right after her.

When they finished, Lorenzo looked at both of them.

“Perfect. From now on, you’re officially a couple.”

Lorenzo’s statement hung in the air like an uncomfortable reminder of what had just been signed. Y/N grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but hesitated at the door.

“Charles?” she called, without turning around.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t plan on complicating this, but I hope you do your part.”

Charles adjusted his watch nonchalantly, as if this kind of deal was something he had mastered.

“I always do.” A discreet smile formed on his lips. “But maybe we should establish a few rules to make sure it works.”

“It’s so nice to see you both so… invested!” Sofia interrupted, letting out a light laugh. “But I’ll leave the details to you two. Just don’t kill each other, please.”

Lorenzo stood up shortly after, giving his brother a nearly conspiratorial look before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. When he said goodbye to Y/N, he smiled warmly, as if to say, “Good luck.”

Once the room was silent, Charles broke it with a casual tone.

“So, about those rules…”

Y/N crossed her arms, clearly determined to make everything crystal clear from the start.

“The first limit is simple: don’t touch or kiss me without prior notice.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised, but entertained by her firmness.

“You do realize that’s basically what couples do, right? Touch, kiss, look close… How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re real if we’re so mechanical?”

“I never said it was forbidden,” she corrected, remaining calm. “I’m just saying, don’t do it without a reason or without letting me know first.”

He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.

“Do you really think I’m interested in anything beyond what this contract requires?” He stepped forward, not breaking eye contact. “What happened at the club was just an impulse, not a sign that I’m in love with you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every word he said.

“Great. Then it shouldn’t be hard to keep your hands and lips off me.”

Charles opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a clear challenge, with something more hidden behind that confidence.

“Of course,” he replied, finally curving his lips into a nearly provocative smile. “But I’ve got my conditions too.”

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, unfazed.

“Alright, go ahead.”

“You have to attend my races whenever you can. And when you can’t, show support on social media. It’s the least I expect.”

She let out an incredulous laugh.

“I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend, not your number one fan.”

“As my girlfriend, you should show support. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Plus, my fans will love it. It’ll be good for our image.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but knew he had a point.

“Fine, but I’ve got commitments too. Don’t expect me to be at every race.”

Charles shrugged, still with that annoyingly confident smile.

“It’s a start.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was as if both were evaluating the other, trying to figure out what was coming next.

Y/N adjusted her bag again and took two steps toward the door before stopping.

“One more thing, Charles.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow, curious.

“If you want this to work, stop trying to always have the last word.”

He smiled, a mix of challenge and amusement.

“That’s asking too much.”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head before finally walking out of the room.

Charles stood there for a moment, staring at the door she had just walked through. There was something about her that made him feel intrigued, and he knew this story was far from simple.

Outside the building, Y/N got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” she mused as the driver started the engine.

Back inside, Charles picked up his phone and quickly sent a message to Lorenzo.

Charles: “If she thinks she can challenge me, this is going to be fun.”

On the other side, Lorenzo just laughed as he read the message.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic

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p0lyn3sian · 3 months ago

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Can you please do slashers x s/o who owns a cat who's getting chubbier? This is based on my cat ever since I made him try a different brand of cat food, he likes it too much that he eat more than 3 times a day 😓

Also idk it you take anons

- 😾 anon

OMGGG CHUBBY CATS ARE SUCH CUTIESS!! I've always wanted a cat, but living in houses/apartments that's rented sucks😔. Since most of the houses & apartments I moved in don't allow cats or dogs.. And yes I do take anons!

Slashers: Norman, Carrie, Sinclair brothers, Patrick, Chucky & Tiffany, Jason, OG Michael, Billy & Stu, Billy Lenz & Brahms, Thomas & Bubba, The Lost Boys, & Hannibal & Will!!

(I was about to put RZ Michael, but then I remembered he ate a dog, so he'll probably eat the cat too 😭.)

Slashers x S/O that owns a chubbier cat!

Norman:

Norman noticed that your cat got much bigger! He asked you if this was normal feeding him three times a day. You said that it was normal, but he has to lose some weight, because he's becoming too big for some stuff, like his bed, etc!

He loves your cat so much though! It doesn't matter if he's chubby or skinny! He also loves feeding your cat treats, so he got really big the past few days. Over all Norman loves your cat, and that he brings comfort to him too! Norman loves to cuddle with you and your cat during rainy days or really cold winter days!

Carrie:

Carrie has been feeding your cat too! So she noticed that your cat is getting fatter, which means he's eating well! Carrie loves him so much, because of his chubbiness and how your cat is just too cute for Carrie to resist!

Carrie has tried to not feed him too much, because cats can get really lazy if they're too fat and not being energetic enough. If Carrie doesn't feed your cat, your cat will be bugging both you and Carrie for food and treats, which makes Carrie tear up because she doesn't want to make your cat too fat and how he keeps pawing at Carrie's legs! Which you ended up letting Carrie feed him since you felt bad for both of them!

Sinclair Brothers: (Bo, Vincent, & Lester)

The Sinclair brothers were really surprised that your cat got chubbier! Bo thinks your cat needs to lose weight, Vincent thinks your cat is fine, and Lester thinks that your cat is a cuddly squishy pet!

Your cat is like a comforter for Vincent! Vincent has been petting him and feeding him, and your cat loves hanging out with Vincent because of his quietness. Your cat also loves hanging out with Lester because of his playfulness! Lester would squish your cat's chubby belly, his cheeks, anywhere where his body is chubby! Your cat thinks Bo is a scary man, because of his angry face he always has. But once your cat gets really comfortable with Bo, your cat will be bugging him for cuddles in no time!

Patrick:

Patrick thinks your cat needs to lose weight. Sometimes Patrick gets ticked off when your cat keeps on meowing for food, or for something else. Patrick doesn't like pets, because pets are always messy. Patrick's ego is sometimes ruined from how messy your cat leaves behind, whether it's from eating, drinking, or getting out of the cat litter..

You've told Patrick that he'll have to learn to love your cat! Patrick didn't believe you because he doesn't like your cat leaving behind messes. So, it took this up-tight man a few weeks to like your cat. Your cat would make him feel better by sitting on his lap while sleeping. Your cat would make Patrick laugh from you playing with him and his toys!

Chucky & Tiffany:

Chucky is not really a big fan of pets, but Tiffany is! Tiffany thinks your cat is so adorable, his purring is what makes Tiffany love him even more! Chucky thinks your cat is okay, just a few pats here and there but nothing much. Tiffany loves feeding your cat treats because of how he'll always head butt his bowl to her! Chucky would also feed him treats whenever you ask him if he can, and he'll also pet him after once you get his treats!

Sometimes you and Tiffany would see Chucky sleeping on the couch with your cat on his lap. Tiffany would coo at how adorable they both look, and she would definitely take a few pictures with you in it for memories! Chucky and Tiffany don't care if your cat is chubby, they both love to cuddle with him!

Jason:

Jason would always carry your cat around the cabin! Your cat loves being carried around by Jason or you, so he wouldn't have to walk around and just lay on you or Jason's arms! Your cat would always look for Jason, because he either wants to be carried around or just sleep on his lap while getting head rubs while going to sleep.

Jason loves to feed your cat while you are doing something or you're at work! Jason feels really bad when he feeds your cat too much, because he thinks that you're going to be angry at him. Bless his big heart, because you would never be mad at him! You said to Jason that it was okay to feed him more, but you'll have to try other ways to get your cat to be a little more energetic!

OG Michael:

Michael thought your cat was pregnant. You told Michael that your cat is a male, and your cat tends to eat more because of his favorite food you always bring. Sometimes your cat would be on Michael's lap and just sleep, while Michael is stiff as a board so that he doesn't try moving and wake up your cat.

Whenever Michael gets back from his killings, he'll see that your cat is by the window waiting for him! Michael has been giving your cat head pats and rubs, but not a lot of cuddles since he's not really a cuddly person. Which is fine since your cat likes getting pats and rubs from Michael and cuddles from you!

Billy & Stu:

Billy is not really a cat lover, because he thinks all cats scratch you whenever they want. But your cat is different from other cats, and that is your cat is a lazy house cat. Billy likes to look at what your cat likes to do, so mostly what Billy has seen that your cat has done is just sleeping and eating!

Stu loves petting your cat! Stu will squish your cat's cheeks, tummy, and probably his arms too! Stu would definitely give your cat so many treats because of how cute he is, and he would also try and cuddle with your cat while going to sleep! While you are gone doing something or at work, Billy and Stu would be calling you so many times saying that your cat's favorite food is all gone! Billy and Stu will also try to get your cat moving around the house since he's been getting a little fatter!

Billy Lenz & Brahms:

Now there's two cats in the house to feed! Billy's cat and your cat! Billy's cat is a female and her name is Penny! Penny loves to cuddle by him when she's cold or she just wants to sleep! Billy loves to squish your cat and cuddle with him and his cat!

Brahms thinks that you'll have more mouths to feed! Brahms thought your cat is like Billy's cat, because she likes to scratch Brahms' arms, legs, or literally anywhere. But Brahms examined your cat for a little bit. Brahms saw how your cat is always sleeping in the sunlight or either sleeping on your lap or Billy's! So Brahms decided to carry your cat just like Billy's cat, and your cat seemed to just let Brahms hold him! So Brahms has a new favorite cat to cuddle with!

Thomas & Bubba:

Thomas and Bubba have never had pets, so seeing a really chubby cat makes them interested in what he does! Thomas and Bubba would always see your cat sleeping on mama Luda's rocking chair or either somewhere in the house where there's sunlight! These two would also see your cat getting head pats and rubs from uncle Monty or Drayton! Nubbins and Chop-top would do weird stuff to the cat that would eventually leave scratches on their faces for bothering your cat..

Mama Luda would carry your cat around and feed him when she has time! Hoyt just tells you that your cat needs to lose weight.. Thomas and Bubba would be able to help you and your cat! After these two saw what your cat likes to do, they started caring for him too! Thomas would feed him before washing his hands, because he's been chopping up meat for the family in the basement! Bubba would be playing with him and his chicken, Mr. Waddles! Waddles tend to poke your cat with his peak and which your cat just sleeps through it. Bubba would also put on dresses that he made for Waddles and your cat, and play dress up!

The Lost Boys: (David, Dwayne, Paul, & Marko)

All four of them think your cat is going to scratch them! David was the first to examine if he's going to scratch, so he poked your cat to see if he was going to react. Your cat was asleep so of course not he wouldn't even react! You found all of them poking your cat, which made you pissed because clearly they don't see that your cat is trying to sleep!

You told them after telling them to stop poking your cat, that your cat is a lazy house cat so he's not really a verocious cat. But your cat will scratch them if they keep on poking him like that. So seeing that the boys understand why your cat didn't react, they all started petting and rubbing him! They all took turns on who gets to feed and who gets to pet and cuddle with your cat! They also said whoever feeds your cat gets to cuddle with you too!

Hannibal & Will:

When you first showed them your chubby cat, Hannibal and Will asked you questions if it was normal for your cat to look like that. You replied yes, but since your cat doesn't like walking, he's just a lazy house cat! Hannibal has been around dogs so he knows a lot of things about them. Same with Will, his special animals are his 7 dogs! Will's 7 dogs love to sniff around your cat and just examine him.

Will's dogs boop their noses at your cat, seeing that your cat is still sleeping, they'll leave your cat alone until he wakes up! Once your cat wakes up Will's dogs will be licking, sniffing, and booping their noses at your cat! Hannibal would pet your cat while he's in his recliner reading a book! Will would definitely sleep with you, your cat, Hannibal, and his dogs in one big bed! Over all, all of them love your cat and you!

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cyber333angel · 7 months ago

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stepbro!rafe who had the hots for you the day the two of you were introduced. his soon-to-be stepmom and sweet, innocent stepsister moving into the house with his father and himself.

stepbro!rafe who told you a little flirting never hurt and that you weren’t even related so it’s fine. I mean.. you just met two months ago, he’s kind of right.

stepbro!rafe who finally made a move and kissed you on your parents wedding night. plotting on you all night and ending it with making you cum from his fingers in the photo booth.

stepbro!rafe who would jerk off to your panties whenever you went out with your girlfriends.

stepbro!rafe who would get angry at any guy who hit on you and could never explain why he was angry because it’s not like you were his girlfriend.

stepbro!rafe who would find anytime to be alone with you in the house, the bathroom, the closet or in your room with the door locked.

stepbro!rafe who would take your hands and place them on his bulge to show you what you do to him whenever you walk around the house in your little skirts and tight tops.

stepbro!rafe who squeezes your thigh under the dinner table, inching closer and closer to your cunt to tease you and watch you struggle to keep your composure.

stepbro!rafe who would touch you under the covers at family movie night and make you cum around his fingers with a quiet whimper.

stepbro!rafe who is always being risky and almost getting the two of you caught.

stepbro!rafe who would grab you by the throat and corner you into the wall whenever he was especially in a ticked off mood. “why don’t you help your big brother out hm? I had such a hard day today sweetheart..” he tells you, unbuckling his jeans.

stepbro!rafe who threatens to tell your parents what you have been doing if you don’t quit it with the attitude.

stepbro!rafe who covers your mouth with his large hands so you would stop squealing when he fucks you in his room.

stepbro!rafe who eats you out as a reward anytime you passed one of your huge stressful exams. “good job baby.. taste so fuckin good for me..”

stepbro!rafe who lets you cockwarm him while he plays games on his pc, holding your ass in place while you squirm around his length. your head nuzzling into his shoulder while he pretends to pay no attention to your whining, delivering a harsh slap you to your ass whenever you tried to bounce on him.

stepbro!rafe who would let you cry and moan as loud as you want when he plunges his cock into your wet cunt because your parents were away, not having to be discreet.

stepbro!rafe who loved the little kisses you snook on his cheek whenever your parents weren’t looking.

stepbro!rafe who is surprised when you come into his room late at night sniffing because you couldn’t cum by yourself, “need you rafey..”

stepbro!rafe who lets you ride your soaked folds on his thigh to help you sleep because of course as your big brother he needs to help you sleep.

stepbro!rafe who loved that you would paw at his cock all the time, begging to suck on him.

stepbro!rafe who doesn’t feel guilty about corrupting his new stepsister. <3

#rafe x reader <3 #obx smut #rafe cameron #rafe x black reader #outer banks #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #tw stepcest #idk if yall real freaks like that tho #disclaimer this is season 1 rafe where he’s like 19 and dropped out of college with a like 18-19 year old reader and they did NOT grow up #together

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sturniqlo · 5 months ago

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Mood Swings- C.S

summary: a collection of times when y/n can't control her emotions this time around and experiences many mood swings.

cw: crying, cursing, bit of angst not too much, fluff?

an: i hate this one actually😭

masterlist | positive masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

ten weeks pregnant

Y/n hit ten weeks today. Chris had also officially moved in. The once empty space in the closet was now filled with Chris' clothes. Y/n loved going in there now and not only seeing her clothes but also seeing Chris' clothes hanging there too. The once empty drawers were filled with more of Chris' clothes. They woke up together, ate together, lounged together, showered together, and fell asleep together. Everything was perfect.

However, at random times during the day, Y/n would get... moody. She would go from lovey dovey with Chris to getting mad at something simple he did, for example turning down the tv volume which happened last week. "Why would you do that?!" She grew angry. Chris jumped at her sudden change. "Do what? Turn the volume down?" He asked softly, not wanting to rile her up more. "Yes! It was fine at fifteen! Why put it at seventeen?" She scooted to the far end of the couch, away from him. "Sorry, I'll change it back." He goes to reach for the remote but she stops him. "No keep it there, I'm going to bed." She grabs her phone and storms off to their room.

As much and Chris wanted to follow her, he knew she needed her time to cool down. He learned that the hard way. The first time her mood swings kicked in, Y/n stormed off to their room when Chris served her water in her outdoor water bottle. "You ruined everything!" She yelled and walked to their room. Chris, confused, followed her and Y/n got more ticked off and threw a pillow at him. She gasped, "Chris, I'm so sorry. Oh my gosh. Are you hurt?" Her mood changed in a blink of an eye. "I'm fine, are you okay?" He asked. "I think my mood swings are kicking in. I'm sorry what I said back there I didn't mean it okay? If I ever say any stupid shit just know I don't mean it."

Chris heard their bedroom door open from down the hall and Y/n entered the living room. Her mascara was streaked down her face with tears. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I can't control it" She climbed on his lap. "It's okay, baby. I know you didn't mean it." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you forgive me?" She whispered. "Of course, do you want to head off to bed now? It's getting late and Matt and Nick are coming to pick us up early tomorrow." She nodded. "Okay, can you serve me water with ice?" Chris nodded.

The next morning, Y/n didn't have any mood swings when they were waiting for Nick and Matt to pick them up. However, after breakfast when they headed to the boys' place she had her first one of the day. "Hey, Y/n. Did you want to stop by any store to get snacks? We don't have much at our house right now, haven't gone shopping for the week." Matt said as he stopped at a red light. Y/n listened to Matt and took his question the wrong way. "Are you calling me fat, Matt?" She gasped angrily. Matt whipped his head over to Y/n who was sitting in the backseat with Chris. "What? Of course not!" He sort of laughed, thinking she was joking.

Chris widened his eyes, realizing he forgot to mention to his brothers that Y/n was starting the mood swing stage. He did his research when he first noticed it and saw that pregnant women have mood swings within the first six to ten weeks, however Y/n's mood swings started pretty late. "You're laughing, this isn't funny. Chris, your brother just called me fat! I just finished eating and now you're implying that I still want to eat? Unbelievable! This is just unbelievable!" Nick looked back at Chris with a confused look on his face. He gave Nick a look of 'don't say anything' and he quickly understood.

"Im sure he didn't mean it like that, Y/n. It just that you might get cravings later and they don't have what you want at their house." Chris said in the softest voice possible. Y/n glared at him. "So, you agree with him? Just- nobody talk to me, please." Y/n scooted as close as she could to the door and stared out the window.

Once they pulled into the garage, she quickly got out of the car and went into their house. "Dude, what's up with her?" Matt turned the car off and look back at Chris, Nick also turned to look. "I forgot to tell you guys that she started getting mood swings. She was doing great this morning but I guess your question ticked her off. So, if she says something hurtful just know she doesn't mean it. And don't add on to anything to make her even more mad or upset."

The triplets entered the house and saw Y/n sitting on the couch with a frown on her face. "You okay?" Chris said. "No." She whispered, getting to from her spot and walking to Matt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. I know you didn't mean it that way." Y/n wrapped her arms around Matt. "It's okay, kid." Matt hugged her back. "I'm guessing Chris told you guys what been happening." She lets go of Matt.

Throughout the day, Y/n had little blow outs but she was able to control those where she caught herself or she would go to the bathroom to cool off so she wouldn't say anything she didn't mean. Unfortunately, there was one that she couldn't control. Her and Nick were in the living room watching a movie while Matt was in his room playing fortnite with Chris who was using Nicks setup.

"I could really eat some ice cream right now." Y/n said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Let me check if we have any, I know Matt had some leftover." Nick gets up and goes to the kitchen and opens the freezer. "Are you- ugh, he is not serious." Nick opens the ice cream container and its empty. "Throw it in the fucking trash if it's empty." He mumbles, closing the fridge door and tossing the empty container away.

"Would you like me to order some? Kinda want some too." He goes back to his original spot, trying to grab some of the blanket but, she yanks it away. Y/n realizes and gives him an apologetic look before putting some blanket over him. "Please? I want... cookie dough and mango ice cream." Nick quietly grimaced at the two unusual combined choices. "Okay, let me text Matt and Chris if they want anything."

It had been ten minutes since Nick placed their order and Y/n mood changed. She was thinking about her ice cream and how it didn't sound good anymore and she started to tear up, feeling bad that she made Nick order and now she doesn't want it anymore. One loud sniffle made Nick turn to look at her and he started to worry. "Hey, you okay?" She shakes her head. "Wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks. "N-no you're going to get mad at me." Y/n cries and hides her head in the blanket. "I doubt I will." He tries to take the blanket off of her head but she grips it tightly.

Y/n eventually threw the blanket off of her and got off the couch and went up to Nicks room where Chris was. "Hi, bab- what's wrong?" Chris took off his headset and abandoned his game. "I feel so bad." She cried walking to Chris and sitting on his lap. "Why, what happened?" He held her face gently in his hands. "I was craving ice cream, and- and you know how he ordered?" He nodded, "I don't want it anymore. But, I feel bad because I made him order. What if he gets mad?" Her cries eventually turned into sniffles. "He's not going to get mad, I promise you."

Chris tried his best not to let out a giggle. It amazed him how fast her mood can change. He had went down about five minutes ago and Y/n was perfectly fine laughing with Nick. "Are you sure?" She whispers. "One hundred percent." He nods.

Y/n slowly came down the stairs and saw Nick smiling at her. "You're back! Are you okay now. Wanna tell me what happened?" He patted the spot she once sat it. She nodded. "I- I don't want the ice cream anymore. I'm sorry, I know I made you order it and," Her eyes filled with tears once more. "Fuck, I don't know why I'm crying. I know I made you order but, I'm not craving it anymore. And I feel really really bad. I- I'll pay you back." She said, wiping her eyes. "Y/n, it's fine. You don't have to pay me back. You can take the ice cream home, or give it to Chris, since he didn't want anything."

"You- you're not mad?" She gasps. "No! Why would I? You're pregnant, you're likely to have many cravings and craving changes. I'd never get mad at you for that." He laughs, and she cracks a smile. "You know what I am craving now, though? And I saw some in your fridge and cabinet." She whispers. "What?" He whispers back. "Bacon and nutella."

A week and many mood swings later, the time came when Chris couldn't contain his laughter and Y/n was even more distraught. "Chris, can you come here really quickly!" Y/n yells from the kitchen. He gets up from his spot on the couch and walks to the kitchen where Y/n is mixing her alfredo pasta. "Can you try it, see if it needs anything else." She grabs a plastic fork and stabs it through a noodle. "Smells good." He says before eating the pasta noodle.

"Mmm, it's good. Perfect actually." Y/n raises an eyebrow at his serious expression. "You hate it." She turns off the stove since it's ready. "What? No I don't." Chris says quickly. "Yes you do, you were serious, so you hate it." Y/n gets mad. "Baby, I promise you I don't hate it. You know I love your cooking." He laughs. "Why are you laughing." She whines, her eyes are now teary. "Hey, hey, don't cry. I'm sorry for laughing. But, I promise you I loved it, okay?" He wraps his arms around her from behind and places a kiss on her neck.

"Are you sure?" She says. "So sure." He places one last kiss on her neck. "Hey, do you think our baby will have mood swings?" Y/n asks.

"I hope not. I'm sorry to say but, It's giving me whiplash."

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skzdarlings · 2 months ago

Text

the kiss ; skz ; lee know x reader

pairing: lee know/reader content info: friends to lovers, established friends w benefits but they are in love, your honour. reader is a gnc woman. top!reader, bottom!minho, some light dom!reader, sub!minho. mahandling, teasing, handjobs, rimming, spitting, strap-ons, mentions of past pegging, mentions of spanking/belting, lots of smooching word count: 3000 words.

this was originally going to be a multi-part story but i changed my mind thus this went to die in my graveyard of scraps. however i love this couple and i liked this scene and it seemed a shame to not post it at all haha. hopefully others will enjoy it too :)

Raising your kid brother means you will forever occupy the nebulous, fucked up space of Not-Your-Parent, Still-Your-Mom, even when said kid brother has long stopped being a kid. Jeongin will always be your first priority.

Minho knows it too. He has been your best friend for several years now. He knows you. He knows you will always stop what you’re doing if Jeongin needs you.

Even at the tragic expense of an orgasm.

It’s two o-clock in the morning, an hour after you got off work bartending. Minho has to be up for his office job in four hours so he was grumbly when your horny ass woke him up with a bulge pic. You like to consider yourself above obnoxious hormone-driven decisions, but that’s before the strap-on straps on. Several inches of silicone later and you’re taking (tasteful) fake-dick dick pics in the bar bathroom.

Minho answers the door shirtless, his grey sweatpants betraying his already chubbed up semi, and with an extraordinarily icy glare that not even his sleep-mussed blonde hair can diminish. He snarks at you until you curl your fingers into his dark roots and yank.

It takes only minutes to manhandle him back into his bed, moments to get his sweatpants off, and seconds to have your fingers around his throat and his dick gliding through your spit-wet fist.

You end up horizontal across the middle of his big bed. You’re still in a t-shirt and jeans, your boots and leather jacket somewhere on the floor. Minho is naked and covered in little love bites, his body a fading canvas of your previous times together. The sight never fails to make you ache, your fingers tracing the evidence of your own hungry desires.

You kneel between his open legs and he impatiently pries open your belt. His mouth ticks up in an amused grin as you let him whip the belt out of its loops. He tosses it behind him, his smile a smidgeon cocky even while on his back.

You would never call him cute, because he’d probably slap and correct you (he’s handsome, thank you very much), but he is. Cute. Sweet. The way he cocks his head, the way he gazes up at you. There’s an erratic heartbeat in both your cunt and actual heart, the latter more pronounced than usual. Your eyes have already adjusted but the blue darkness of his bedroom seems fuzzier, everything around him disappearing in a blurry smog of relative insignificance.

“You’re staring,” he says, his fingers crawling under your shirt. His knuckles brush your nipple through your sports bra. He pulls a face when he pinches it meanly.

You grab both his wrists and yank his hand out of your shirt. He does not look remotely chagrined, instead he is beaming with satisfaction, like he was the one who planned your reaction.

You pin his hands above his head then lean over him. His playful arrogance fades, his gaze jumping to your mouth then back to your eyes. It brings your attention to his mouth, pink and wet, his bottom lip plump and bitten from his own teeth running over it.

You have kissed him before. It isn’t a habit but also isn’t strange. You were the first to ever initiate a kiss. It was the third time you slept together and the first time you properly came from fucking someone. The base of a toy in a strap-on can sometimes provide some stimulation against your clit, depending on a few factors, but you usually have to be pretty worked up to even get close.

He got you more than close, taking you right over the edge. You all but fell onto him with the desperation of your kiss. His ankles were hooked behind your back, his face warm where your thumb stroked his skin, where you raked fingers into his sweaty hair as you sunk deep inside him with dick and tongue at once.

You usually kiss like that: in the throes of something especially electrifying. You think this might be the first time you kiss him so simply, just like this, with clarity and consciousness, spurred by affection more than thoughtless passion. A deliberate kiss, as you lean down and do just that, his lips warm and open against yours.

His eyes close, his brow furrows.

The thing about Minho that turns you on the most is how he… well, how he Minhos. His smirking, his snarking, his fake impatience, how much he dishes out. He’s your friend, someone you’ve sat beside on weekend camping trips, resting in comfortable silence around a fire while Jeongin and his friends cause a ruckus somewhere down on a beach. Minho will sit on your couch with his feet in your lap, his hat backwards, wearing glasses so he can read the nutritional content on a snack bag while you carelessly scarf down its contents. He’ll tease you kindly, let you playfully knock your knuckles under his chin. He’ll cook you meals when you haven’t eaten all day, too busy with everything to take care of yourself, but he’ll wave away any expression of gratitude after the fact. He’s good, utterly, but he likes to be trouble too.

And that’s what really gets you going, something you admit can’t be replicated with any other lover. Because they aren’t Minho. And that’s the best part.

Like this. Playful and catty and mad you woke him when he has work tomorrow, but turning soft and pliant under your body. His brow is drawn tight as you kiss him, like he can’t comprehend the sheer pleasure of it. He breathes in through the kiss, a trembling breath that flutters on your lips, then he cranes his neck to kiss you again.

You press his head into the bed. Somewhere in the simmering warmth of your kiss, your hands shift so your fingers lace and push against the bed. He makes a keening sound, his back arching, kiss breaking with a deep breath as his hips and cock and thighs make contact with your jeans.

He turns his face to the side and closes his eyes. His chest moves with the quickness of his breathing, somehow looking like you’ve fucked for him hours when all you’ve really done is kiss him.

His fingers tighten around yours when you kiss his exposed cheek, down his jaw, down his neck. He rips his hands out from under yours only to throw them around your shoulders. His fingers dive into your hair, rough and demanding when he pulls your head back to his. His mouth opens for a kiss, his tongue slashing against yours when you give it to him. You kiss him hard, kiss him until his fingers go weak and his arms are shaky, clinging to your neck like a lifeline.

“That’s it, baby. So good,” you say, a slur of words without thinking too hard. You blink with some amazement at the noise he makes, the way his whole body rears up against yours. You cradle his hips and lick his red over-kissed mouth.

Then your phone buzzes. He hears it first, or at least registers the reality of it first, head whipping to his bedside table where you left it. He is already glaring when you lift your face. Your head is spinning, your mouth as raw as his.

He digs his fingernails into your back through your t-shirt. He has also painted something of a mosaic there, faded thin lines from overeager fingers scratching when you fuck him. You obviously cannot directly feel when you are inside him, but he makes sure you feel it other ways. Sometimes you feel it for days.

He’s still glaring. God, that expression really does get you so hot. You are literally throbbing under the silicone in your jeans.

“You’re going to check that, aren’t you, asshole,” he says with more resignation than genuine malice.

“I should,” you say. “Just in case it’s—”

He makes a noise that starts as a sigh and turns to a scream. You rub your ear after.

“Your dick isn’t even real,” he says, throwing an arm over his eyes, “and you still manage to disappoint me.”

You laugh, so fond of him. Your pounding heart is not slowing down. It’s hard to look away from him, though you manage it long enough to see your phone light up with a text alert.

He grabs your chin, turning your face back to his.

“Make me come first, or I’m biting it,” he says.

“B-biting what?”

“Your dick. I’ll chew the head off.”

“Please don’t gnaw on my dick. It was expensive.”

“Orgasm. Now.”

He throws his arms out to the sides, eyebrows lifted in an expression of pointed expectation.

His position briefly reminds you of the first time you ever did this, years ago. You never complained about the obligations that came with raising Jeongin, but it wasn’t exactly easy. Between leaving school to work and shirking your social life, you made more than a few sacrifices. You off handedly expressed the vaguest desire for something more substantial than one night stands but not as serious as a relationship, given your responsibilities, and Minho replied by throwing his arms up and giving you that exact same look.

Well? his challenging eyes have always said. You have never backed down from a challenge.

You run your hands down his sides. His arms jerk because it tickles, but you hold him down to lick and bite from hip to pit to shoulder. He wriggles under you, his breath getting shallower. His dick twitches when your hand curls tightly around it.

You know how to make him come quickly. You know his body like a well-loved song, every peak and crescent long since memorized.

You manhandle him onto his front. He gives in when you push down his head and shoulders, lets his knees push his backside up, up, up. His toes curl and uncurl, his voice breaking into choppy little mewls that make you throb. You spit on his hole and your mouth chases it, tongue doing what your dick would have done. Your other hand is under him, stroking in steady tandem.

You don’t rush. It won’t take long anyway because he isn’t trying to hold back.

That makes you wonder, for a moment. If he even could hold his orgasm. Your sex doesn’t exactly resemble conventional intercourse between a man and a woman so it’s not usually too important if he stays very hard or not, greedy with his orgasms and never restraining long. Denial isn’t something you’ve ever played with. Prolonged orgasm control is something of a commitment in its own right. Years ago, when you started this, you were avoiding those commitments.

Now… Well, Jeongin is older, living in a university dorm. You live in a flat on your own. You aren’t seeing anyone else and haven’t so much as hooked up with a stranger in months. You know Minho hasn’t slept with anyone else in more than a year.

You think about how he kissed you back. You think of his backwards hats, his laughter, his sighing as he wraps himself around you.

You imagine slowing your touch, telling him to hold it. Don’t come. Because I’m going to fuck you tomorrow, because you’re mine, and I want you ready for it.

Your mouth gets him wet enough that spit runs down his skin. You circle your thumb around his rim, press in, and murmur, “Wish I could come inside you.”

He comes like that, shoving his face into the bedcovers to stifle his strangled yell. Minho is always loud when he finishes, maybe something to do with being an only child and latchkey kid to boot. He has lived alone for most of his life so he has never had a reason to be quiet. As someone who comes silently, you like it, that unabashed eruption of pleasure that he can’t really hide.

You nip the curve of his ass and narrowly dodge the backward swipe of his hand. He keeps his face buried in the blanket, grumbling nonsense as he finally lowers his hips. You straddle his ass and smooth your hands up his spine, watching him shudder under your touch. You run your hands up and up, over his shoulders to cup his face and lift it out of the blankets.

“Up more,” you say.

He’s always at his nicest and most obedient right after coming. With only a little huff, he pushes his torso up and tips his head back. His eyes flick up to where you lean over him. The bulge of your packed toy is sitting on his ass.

“Open,” you say.

He opens his mouth, still gazing up and back at you. Those dark eyes make all the blood in your heart rush lower, thumping frantically. His head falls all the way back when your hands circle his throat to hold him there. He only closes his eyes when you spit in his mouth, lips closing around it as he moans like you just gave him the sweetest gift in the world.

“Good,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

He groans and flops back down, then brings his arms forward to fold and cushion them under his head. He lifts his hips to grind his ass against your bulge, probably smirking into his elbow.

“Better check your phone,” he says. He yelps when you slap his ass.

“You’re lucky you tossed that belt away, smartass,” you say.

That degree of playing is also not something you have ever done, though you’ve skirted the idea once or twice. Your red handprint on his ass attests to it.

“Promises, promises,” he mutters.

You are tempted to give him another smack for good measure, but it will only work you up more. Instead you muster the resolve to pull away. His discarded sweatpants are the closest fabric so you wipe your hands on it. It earns your own backside a smack as you crawl to his bedside table.

“Hey,” you say, menacing but humorously so.

He knows you have no intention of following through with any threats, so he clamps both hands on your ass and squeezes. He cackles evilly before rolling out of arm’s reach.

Shaking your head and smiling, you check your phone. It is Jeongin. You can’t help but facepalm when you read his message.

Hi it’s Jeongin from family. Your brother Jeongin. Hello. We went to a Party far away and Uber dropped us off but now they don’t have anyone to pick us up!! :( Please rescue us. There are woods and trees and maybe bears. and we are drunk. Nothing Illegal

Ah, fuck. Nothing says illegal substance like swearing the opposite unprompted. You would know; before your parents died, you were indubitably on track to being the problem child. Your first year of university was a mess you intended to straighten out later, but later never came. Your parents died, Jeongin was still a minor, and you made a series of hard choices overnight.

After all these years, you’re still not sure if your wayward experiences made you a better pseudo-parent or a worse one. Maybe ignorance would have made you less panicky all the time. Maybe it would have made you worse.

Minho ducks into the bathroom while you text with Jeongin. You are lacing up your boots when Minho returns with your toothbrush, one he keeps for your overnight visits. Looking at his thighs in his boxers, the hickey poking out just under the hem, makes you wish tonight was one of those nights. Tragically, the only one being deprived of an orgasm is you.

You scrub the brush around your mouth, just enough, then swallow. He leaves again, your eyes on every step of his retreat.

“You’re staring again,” he says from the bathroom.

“Duh,” you say. You go back to tying your boots but your mind is elsewhere. You are thinking about Jeongin and his friends, of course, but you are also thinking about Minho. A lot about Minho. Mostly about Minho. Arousal is still coursing through your veins, never mind all the emotions you kept so carefully tucked away for so long.

Suddenly, it’s all you can think about. He’s all you can think about.

Minho kneels behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He kisses behind your ear, then your neck, your clothed shoulder. Your fingers dance anxiously over your knees.

“Don’t tempt me,” you say.

It isn’t a joke but he laughs, mistaking it for one. “Sure,” he says. “You just can’t take your own teasing.”

“Minho.”

“Tyrant.”

You turn, grasping his chin so quickly he gasps. You guide his face to yours and kiss him.

This kiss is slower, bold and open-mouthed. Hot. His moan is a light sound at the back of his throat and it zaps through you like an electric bolt. He drags his nails down the middle of your back, making every hair stand on end. When the kiss eventually comes apart, he presses his forehead to yours.

You are both breathing hard.

“I’m not working tomorrow night,” you say, your voice a low rumble. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip. “Can I come over?”

He nods. Minho can be loud to say the least, but sometimes his voice gets so delicate that it turns your brain to mush. He talks like that now, all soft and sweet, so close to your mouth. “You promised to fuck me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be thinking about it all day now.”

“Me too,” you say.

“Mm.” He flops over and rolls so his back is to you. “That’s too bad for you.” He accompanies this comment with a wiggle of his hips.

You can’t help but smile at him.

“See you then, brat,” you say.

“You’ll see me in your dreams,” he says, accompanying it with a dramatic yawn. “And when you masturbate tonight. Good night!”

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know smut #lee minho smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #lee know x you #lee minho x you

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millerscoffee · 1 year ago

Note

reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?" You roll into the dining hall in a huff. Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?" Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door. His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way. Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you. Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town. It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back. No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ." He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort. Conversation over.

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table. The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain. Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know." Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me. Listen, this is a family dinner. Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less. Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel. So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs. You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?" His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry." It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example. Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction. You sound meek, scared to say something wrong. A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment. Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast. Now." Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer. A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others. Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much. You consider it a win. Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner. The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey? It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you. You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk. Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol. Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon. Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer. "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate. You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria. He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that. The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off. You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard. Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly. "Yea, he was drunk this morning. Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale. "Shit. We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything. It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them. That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest. You don't think about his experiences that often. But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that. You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out," you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out. You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them. They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up. And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared. They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's? Please?" Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was. It seemed to do the trick, though. Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something. The look is inculpatory without you doing anything. As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you. "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria. She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you. "What'd I miss?" You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel? Not so much. His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him. You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening. Or at least trying. It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other. More arguing than speaking. And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions." Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction. It makes you scared and delighted at once. Like he was back to normal. Your normal.

"I was listening to her?" You retort, and everyone's quiet now. Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out. "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–" "Hey, now." Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad. Reflective. Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age. People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in. You truly felt alone. Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room. Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult. It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around. Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas. Cotton shorts and a loose tee. Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric. A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep. Needing release. Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down. It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different. You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts. You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact. What that would sound like against your ear. Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt. A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from. The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass. One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace. He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny. A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was. Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used. Of... making him proud.

"What?" His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside. The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you. You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly. It locks you in place.

"You came here. Why? Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position. You can't think, you can't nod or say words. You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans. "How about now. You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?" His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment. Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid. Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour. You can't think of a thing to say. Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts. Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him. Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right. You answer to me." The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance. He doesn't own you, he never fucking could. The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose. "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes. Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl. You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think. Meaningless, even. What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house. You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie. It's dark, a single lamp upstairs. All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin. It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close. His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me. Don't say sorry when I know you're not." His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface. Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit. "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use. I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?" The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees. Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away. Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants. You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light. You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock. "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?" The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise. And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age. You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him. After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further. "Fuck. You hear that? Nothing! Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it? Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it. Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want. The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place. His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was. You wanted to scream, kick him. Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day. A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips. And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock. Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit. It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely. Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way. Your gone expression. All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth. You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard. "Nuh uh. You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl. Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it. Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound. Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself. He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee. Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass. "But somebody better teach you better manners. Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth. You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else. "Lucky I ain't making y'count. You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway. He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms. Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him. "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished. I talked so bad about you, and you liked it? You’re as desperate as I thought. Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.” And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view. Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again. His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs. Right where he wants you. Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds. He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder. Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done. It’s over. All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him. It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough. “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring. He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him. You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with. And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds. The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft. He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down. “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her. You want that, kitten? Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?” his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is. “Put a baby right here. Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought. It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before. Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this? Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you. How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples. When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise. You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge. So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you. Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard. His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body. “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate. Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin. “No, no, please. Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you. Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you. And he likes what he sees. Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you. Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing. “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age. But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment. It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming. To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please. Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it. Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder. Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place. “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now. Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure. You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s. You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it. He had it. He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily. “Please, daddy. Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya. Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice. Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you. Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it. He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full. “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt. All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat. It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides. It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,” Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him. Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging. “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl? Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.” Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him. “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise. As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix. “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you. You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does. The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you. His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls. Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you. It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture. Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this. His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit. You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock. You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it. Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still. You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him. Did he say you could do that? As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck. Without his permission. You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips. He looks so menacing like this, scary. You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you. You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you. Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect. A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do. He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react. He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is. As unwilling to give away freedom. Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it. Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much. When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts. You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you. You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it. His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing. He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure. “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it. “Please, pl– it’s too much! Daddy!” That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone. Again and again. As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely. His cock, his finger. His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock. How did he get hard again?! He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something. A release, a grind. You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?” He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel. “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod. “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk. “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are. “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did. Belong to me now, you understand? Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words. You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?” You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear. Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole. He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

#bee's requests #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #dom!joel #brat tamer!joel #brattamer!joel #bratty reader #bratty f!reader

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ghostboneswrites2 · 9 months ago

Note

I really resonated with Daryl x abused reader could you maybe do one where the reader doesn’t let their past define them and shows little signs of abuse like they’re super cheery and happy and doesn’t let their past get them down and but maybe reader has a ptsd attack by Daryl after he confronts her about being so happy especially in an apocalypse and they just realize they relate to each other even if they’re personalities are so drastically and Daryl just comforts reader 🫂

The Painted Bunting

Era: Greene Farm

Summary: Daryl is paired with you on the search for Sophia and snaps at you after growing tiresome of your seemingly endless kindness.

Note: No more laptop for now since the cord broke so I hope you’ll all forgive the lack of my usual post formatting :(

Warnings: profanity, mentions of past abuse, grumpy sassy asshole Daryl (the man we originally fell in love with)

Banner credits on this post

Shining hair in the rays of the sun, an infectious laugh, a beaming grin that never seemed to dissipate. A glowing beacon in the dark. That was what you were. And, admittedly, it got under his skin a little, so Daryl tended to avoid you. You weren’t oblivious to it, but you accepted it for what it was. After all, you couldn’t win them all, right?

You had always been that way; soft, gentle, graceful, kind. If you had never let the past change that for you, you certainly wouldn’t let present day events change it, either. Maybe the world had become a nightmare, but that didn’t mean you had to be one too.

Daryl thought that what really gritted his teeth about you was that through everything that had happened, you never changed a single bit. Not like the others had; not like he had.

After the world fell, after the camp by the quarry was overrun, after the CDC, after Sophia had gone missing, you remained exactly the same. For all of the afore mentioned, Daryl found you to be one of the most vexing people he ever had the displeasure of interacting with, second only to Shane, who could have easily been traded off for his own brother, Merle.

Needless to say, he was peeved at the idea that you were sent on search duty with him after he hurt himself in the ravine. Rick decided a buddy system would be beneficial to all of the search party participants, and you volunteered to tag along, because of course you did.

You weren’t so much looking forward to spending so much one on one time with the man, yourself. You didn’t necessarily have an issue with him, but you were all too aware of the issue he seemed to have with you. Really, you couldn’t relate to him at all. Not everyone around camp was perky and sweet, and rightfully so, but Daryl was such a brooding presence and you just couldn’t put yourself in that frame of mind.

The two of you had set out just after dawn and the hours ticked by as you made friendly conversation and Daryl occasionally offered you a measly grunt in response.

“Do you think we’ll find anyone out here?” You asked. “I mean, aside from Sophia. I know we’ll find her.”

“Pro’ly better if we don’t find nobody else.” Was his first verbal response all day. You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Could be good. I’m sure there are people who could really use some help.”

“Ain’t our problem.” He argued. “Gotta look out for our own. The hell you worried about helpin’ strangers for when we ain’t even found the little girl we’re after?”

“Oh, no.” You chuckled nervously. “It’s not that I was just —“ You cut yourself off, sensing an oncoming ramble. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Mm.” He hummed, pausing his footsteps to take a breath and scan his surroundings. After a moment, he continued forward, and you followed without question . Admittedly, you had no clue how to track, so if anything you were there in case he got hurt.

“So, if someone needed your help… You wouldn’t help?” You asked innocently.

He whipped around to face you, the aggression behind his motion drawing you to a dead stop.

“The hell’s your problem, huh?” He snapped. You blinked. “It’s the end of the goddamn world and you’re askin’ me about some hypothetical moral dilemma? Let me tell you somethin’, girl; ain’t no damn morals in the apocalypse. Ain’t no more law and order! It’s just us,” he paused, sending an arrow through the skull of a walker that had crept up behind you. You flinched and turned to watch its carcass thud on the forest floor. “And them.” He concluded.

“I—I was just making conversation.” You mumbled timidly.

“Why? It’s not a social call! We’re out here to find that little girl. This is why I didn’t need no damn babysitter.” He complained.

“I was just trying to be nice.” You defended.

“Nice?” He scoffed. That simple word seemed to trigger something in him as his eyes lit up with aggravation. “Don’t you get it? It ain’t about bein’ nice anymore. It’s about survival. Got dead people standin’ up and eatin’ people and you’re worried about bein’ nice. Walkin’ around passin’ out water and food and gigglin’ with everybody like we ain’t got a bunch o’ dead bodies stumblin’ around us just waitin’ to take a bite out.”

Maybe it was the way he raised his voice, or the way his eyes shot flaming daggers of fury right through your chest, or the way he threw his arms down and spat words at you like you were some puny, wretched little thing. You didn’t know what it was, but somewhere in the whirlwind of heated exchange, his voice slowly blended together with the other voice — the one that still lived in the back of your mind and ate away at you every day.

The voice that belonged to your own father, the one person who struck true, genuine fear in you. Before you knew it, that old sensation of real terror, the one you’d buried somewhere deep inside you and covered with cement, was breaking free and engulfing you.

You were frozen, like a fawn under the scrutinizing gaze of a predator. The humid air felt like a thick paste as you struggled to gulp it down and catch a breath. At first, Daryl felt inclined to criticize your tears as a show of weakness, fragility, inability to handle a little raise of the voice. He quickly noticed, however, that this was no simple burst of reactionary emotions. No, this was something much deeper and it was rattling you to the core. There was a distant look in your wide eyes, one that he came to recognize, even if it took him a minute.

He shifted on his feet, scanning you, unsure how to intervene.

“Hey.” He eventually called out, but it was clear his voice wasn’t reaching you. This was the final piece of confirmation he needed. You were having an episode, the kind he experienced a few times when he first got out of his father’s abusive home.

He sighed and grabbed your trembling shoulders. You jumped but you didn’t flee or strike out. His touch seemed to dry you out and shrivel you up like a raisin. You shrank into yourself, hyperventilating.

“C’mon.” He said softly, ushering you done to your knees. “Hey. Ya gotta breathe.”

Your breathe only became more shallow and forced. Tears poured down your cheeks as your chest got tighter.

“Just breathe. That’s the only way it’s gonna stop.” He urged. He went to grab your wrists but you panicked, snatching your arms away and falling down on your back.

“No! Get away! You can’t do this anymore! I’m not a little kid!” You cried out.

You were making quite a bit of noise by this point, between the gasps for air and the sobs. He crouched over you and grabbed your shoulders.

“(Y/N), ya ain’t there anymore. Wherever it is, it’s gone. In the past. It’s just you and me right now, and we ain’t there. We’re here.” He soothed, hoping his voice could find you somewhere in the abyss. “Just listen. Ya hear that? It’s a Painted Bunting. Look,” he pointed up into a tree at a bright multicolored bird, similar in its beauty to a parrot, only much smaller. “It’s right up there. Ya see it?”

Your breathing had started to slow down now, those shallow inhales finally reaching a little deeper within. Your eyes lazily followed his finger to the bright little bird singing a flute-like melody.

“Ya see it?” He asked again. You managed to nod once, still holding your arms tightly to your chest as you laid flat on the bed of leaves and twigs. He took a moment to see you, to really take you in, and he realized you were beautiful. Not just in the way a pretty girl with a nice personality was beautiful, but in a way that left so much of who you really were unsaid.

“Just watch it.” He whispered, glancing back up at the feathered creature, hoping it would stick around long enough to bring you back down to earth. “They take two years to look that pretty. Did ya know that?” He asked, glancing back down at you. Your eyes were still on the bird, but you shook your head no. “Yeah. Only the males, too.” He added. “Otherwise, they’re just kinda greenish and yellowish.”

Once your chest was rising and falling with a steady rhythm, you finally looked over at him. Humiliation began to set in. You quickly sat yourself up and brushed the dead foliage away from your clothes and hair.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“‘S okay.” He shrugged, standing himself back up as well. “Happens.”

“Yeah, we’ll, it shouldn’t. Not nowadays.”

“Can’t help it when it does.” He assured you. “I get it.”

“Maybe I should head back.” You suggested.

“We both can. If ya wanna. It’ll be dark soon anyways.”

“I don’t wanna make you lose your trail or.. Ya know.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“Nah. Ain’t no use after dark, anyways. We’d just be stumbling in circles and bumpin’ into each other.” He insisted, contrastingly soft in comparison to before your episode.

“Oh. Right.” You nodded. Just as you got ready to turn back toward the farm, he cleared his throat.

“Ya wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” You turned back to him. He shifted his weight anxiously, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Offering an ear to listen was at least ten yards outside the perimeter of his comfort zone. “About that?” You asked. “That was nothing. Just something stupid that happens sometimes. That’s all.”

While his tone was much kinder and warmer than before, yours was cold, dull, and tired. Those episodes could take a lot out of a person, and he was no stranger to that fact.

“Sometimes it helps.” He said. “Talkin’ about it. Makes it a little less…” He trailed off, searching for the word he wanted. “Less, uh… Consuming.”

“It never gets less consuming.” You argued.

“It does.” He insisted.

“And how would you know?” You asked, impatience lacing your words.

“I used to get ‘em too.” He admitted. “Been awhile but… I just get it. That’s all.”

You studied him. In all the weeks you’d spent around the man, you’d never seen him so genuine, or really so open. He never seemed to look at you like another person. You were always just another load on his shoulders.

“My dad.” You finally spoke. He nodded.

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry.” You sympathized.

“Me too.” He agreed.

“We should go.” You sighed, turning away again.

This time you didn’t wait for him, you just started walking, until he called out behind you; “‘M sorry.” You stood still, but you didn’t look back. He knew he had your attention, though, and he knew he had to say something else. “I know I did it this time. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at ya like that.”

“It’s okay. Maybe you were right.”

“Nah.” He shook his head, taking slow steps to catch up to you. “I wasn’t. It’s good. Ya didn’t let none of that shit make ya bitter. Keep it that way. Else you’ll end up a grumpy redneck.” He joked. You suppressed the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Maybe the grumpy rednecks of the world got it figured out.” You said, walking again once you felt him catch up.

“Nah. I don’t know shit about shit.” He admitted, eliciting a small laugh from you. You shook your head.

“I don’t think anyone does.” You reasoned.

On the hike back to the Greene farm, you two shared some light banter, some stories of the past, some laughs and extended looks. He grew finder of you that day. The critical glares he’d send you from a distance were replaced with admiration and respectful nods. You’d often catch him looking and flash him a big smile, waving at him before you attention was drawn elsewhere.

You both learned that maybe the two of you were differently colored fruit, but you grew from the same tree, and you weren’t so different after all. And, that sentiment was never lost or forgotten. It carried with you for as long as you two knew each other.

Taglist || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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idolomantises · 1 year ago

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Favorite character to write and draw in both of your webcomics?

Bugtopia

Favorite Character to Draw: Sorrel. His design is one of my personal favorites and it's really fun drawing certain expressions, especially ones that contrast his cynical personality. he's also the only Bugtopia character who regularly cycles through outfits. He never wears the same thing per episode. I also love the way his big, black moth claws contrast with the softer design.

Favorite Character to Write: Sorrel, Milan and Jasper (though I cant say too much on jasper yet).

Alluded to above, Sorrel is a very cynical person, but he fronts it with a very ditzy and manufactured persona. He's very selfish and can't keep a relationship, but he also has a love for films and art in general. He's also an overly protective big brother. It's also just funny writing his over dramatic moments. If his acting isnt above 110%, he'd rather be dead.

Milan is like... i mean this in the most affectionate way possible, very autistic and anti social. If Sorrel fronts his behavior with pretend friendliness, Milan is straight up hostile. She doesn't have friends, doesn't go to parties and despises her co-workers. I'm a big fan of characters who are clearly internalizing an issue and its fun writing moments where you can see the gears tick in Milan's head where she tries to register certain interactions. She's definitely going to be my most controversial character (I'd say Cale and Spike will be, but people tend to be more forgiving to male characters than female), but it will be fun to see if people are willing to warm up to her. Girl is a hot mess, but she's MY hot mess.

Monsters and Girls

Favorite Character to Draw: Powers, drawing pissed off expressions are my favorite and powers has a resting "i dont wanna be here" look. I also enjoy drawing her armor.

Favorite Character to Write: I know I said on the other account that Sera is my favorite to write for, but it's really a toss up between Powers, Sera and Lili. They're all so weird and wonderful to me. but in terms of the shorter, gag comics, Sera is is my favorite to write for because she's a million years old and still doesn't know what to do with a hot wife who loves her.

Sera, unlike Powers and Lili, kind of shows her whole personality, so she's also easier to write for. Powers and Lili have a lot of barriers they put up, so you actually don't really see the full range of what they're like.

#monsters and girls #bugtopia #ask quill

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i-cant-sing · 1 year ago

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What happens to Teen Fushiguro in the Shibuya Arc after Kenjaku & Mahito kidnap her?

Ah yes, I forgot about this one. Okay, so I imagine that they take you underground or wherever their lair is and like idk... cast spells on you to keep you from using your powers against them. You continue to threaten them, hurl insults at them and they find it amusing because 1. You're a child 2. You don't even know how easily they could kill you. 3. You're a child, why are you trying to fight the boss fights??💀

Anyways, you grow on them and they do end up becoming yanderes for you too. I mean, Kenjaku is like grandfather/guardian figure to you, and if like Getou is still alive/concious inside him, then he's like an uncle/godfather figure to you. They're bothe very protective, Getou more than Kenjaku, while Kenjaku is more like those veteran granddads who want you to become the best version of yourself and be independent, so they don't help you unless they absolutely do need to step in, but nevertheless love you. And once you do learn whatever skill/lesson he wanted you to, or actually become independent, he does not want you to use those new skills or become independent and stop relying on him for "protection" (even if u don't want it in the first place) or leave him/try to replace him. Nuh uh.

Same goes for Getou too, only he's far more gentle with you. Of course he wants you to be stronger and independent too, but he's far more likely too jump in to help you way before any true harm befalls you. He's softer in his lessons, always has that gentle smile on his face as he dodges whatever attack you launch on him. Encouraging words as he pats your head while you're on the ground trying to catch your breath.

As for Mahito, he's much more like an annoying older brother who bullies you for shits and giggles but God forbid if anyone else hurts you. I mean he'd still make fun of you for getting hurt, but rest assured whoever harmed you is now obliterated.

Your time with them is spent with Kenjaku provoking you and finding whatever it is that makes you tick and then having you spar with curses or with Mahito (who takes great joy in being a jerk). And sure, compared to all of their other victims, you're in "paradise," but in reality, your mental is taking a plunge very fast. Because Kenjaku and Mahito have realised your trigger point-

Abandonment issues.

So they use that against you. Everyday, they tell you that your father left you, that Megumi never fought hard enough for you because he didn't like you, that Gojo knew Megumi had a sister but he didn't take you in with him, and that the Zenin clan did consider you a nuisance which is why they let Gojo take you to Jujutsu High, just so that Gojo can use you as a weapon.

And sure, you'd argue that none of it is true but when a lie is told enough times, it starts to feel like the truth. So with the constant feed of negative words and being cut off from the outside world, reader couldn't help but believe all those lies, and that's how her self esteem and mental health took a turn for worse. She becomes more isolated, more quiet, more... dead. She lacks the energy to fight off those curses, not even fazed as they come a little too close to actually killing you (obv Kenjaku or Mahito step in before they can). And this is the point where they think that now that they have broken you down, they can start building you up again... and have you join their side of the battle. Of course, you're still against that, just not putting any actual effort into reacting to them, but then... they bring Megumi.

Or well, Sukuna occupying Megumi's body.

You instantly recognised them both- recognised the shift in the energy, recognised the monster who was disguised as your brother and you broke down. Fell to your knees, sobbed hard enough for your body to shake until Sukuna gathered you in his arms and moved to a private space, away from prying eyes.

You cried and cried, and Sukuna didn't need you to actually say anything for him to understand. You were mourning for your brother, who you knew has a target on his back now that he was Sukuna's vessel, who wouldnt be leaving him so easily. He just patted your back and assured you that everything will be alright if you just listen to him, made you remember how he promised that he'd always be there for you, made you promise to stick by his side and nothing bad will ever happen to you.

"Sukuna?" Your teary voice croaked, the curse king hummed in response. "Promise you won't hurt Megumi? Won't let anyone else hurt Megumi?"

Despite everything, you still cared for your brother. You didn't really need him, but the way you begged... Sukuna didn't have the heart to say no.

"Okay. Only if you listen to me." You nodded, sniffling as you rested your head against his shoulder.

From there on, I think that Kenjaku will continue to help you weild your powers to become the perfect vessel for Sukuna (who has actually no intention of using you as a vessel, no he just wants you by his side for eternity, all for him to spoil and pamper). You follow Sukuna's rules, stay indoors and only come out when he let's you accompany him, sometimes he'd let you enter his domain expansion so that you could meet Megumi, who tries to convince you run for your life and don't worry about him.

Now, I like to think that a point comes when Gojo is finally free from the prison realm and is now ready to beat everyone's asses, and that's when Sukuna mentions how he has been having a good time with you, which only provokes Gojo to fucking murder him and even Megumi, before he finally decides to just beat his ass and look for you (probably when you stop Gojo from killing Megumi) and that's how Gojo ends up snatching you away as you scream for Sukuna to not kill Megumi, beg Gojo to let you go because Sukuna would kill Megumi if you're not there. And all of this sounds like Stockholm syndrome to Gojo and the gang, who again, keep you under lock and key.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere Kenjaku #yandere getou suguru #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto x reader #yandere getou #yandere geto #yandere mahito #yandere gojo saturo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sukuna #yandere sakuna #yandere #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader

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holdmytesseract · 1 year ago

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Loki request: Reader with KP (Keratosis Pilaris). She is a little insecure about her KP. She finally decides to tell Loki and show him. Of course, the KP doesn't bother him. In fact, he loves it. He tells her that she shouldn't worry about something that bothers silly Midgardians. He will kiss every bump on her body. He sometimes needs to feel her bumpy arms after a bad day.

Just The Way You Are

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: You shut yourself off from Loki; not showing him an inch of your skin. Being the doubtful God he is, he immediately is afraid that he was doing something wrong. What happens when he accidentally uncovers your secret?

Warnings: angst, insecurities/insecure reader, fluff, talks of sex? nudity? even more fluff, Loki being the best boyfriend

Word Count: 2k

a/n: I hope you like this, friend! :) This is the last story of this year! It's been one hell of a ride - that much is clear! Huge thanks to everyone who became part of the crew and read my stories. And of course to all my wonderful friends and mutuals! I love you all! *biiiig hugs*

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemis @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The library was empty at that time of the day. It was quiet.

Almost too quiet.

The only sound was the ticking sound of the clock, hanging at the wall. A sound Loki didn't even discerned. He was way too lost in his thoughts - something Thor noticed, too, when he entered the library. All the god of Thunder wanted was to put back a few books Jane had read and now he found his brother staring absent-mindedly at the white wall across from him. Loki wasn't even blinking.

Thor frowned; cocked his head. "Have you magicked the lines of that book on the wall or why are you so focused on white nothingness, brother?" The blonde man's booming voice ripped Loki rather harshly out of his thoughts. He almost jumped out of his skin.

"Oh fy faen, brother!" Loki cursed; jaw clenching. Thor giggled apologetically. "Apologies, brother. I didn't mean to scare you..." He paused for a moment; watched how Loki crossed his arms over his chest; grumbling. "Why were you staring at the wall? Are you quite alright?" The younger god's fingers twitched around the book; body visibly tensing. "Sure." He just said; shaking his head.

Thor was probably not always the smartest, but by now - after all those years, he could tell when something was bothering Loki. Not always, but today was it quite obvious. The blonde shook his head. "You are not. I can tell. Don't fool me, brother. What's bothering you?" Loki snorted. "Nothing of your interest, brother. My problem, not yours." Thor frowned and then shook his head, before he plopped down next to Loki on the way too small sofa for the bulky man's physique, almost crushing his younger sibling.

"Brother, what-" Loki complained, but got cut off by Thor slapping his big palm against his chest; causing all the air to leave his lungs. "Talk to me. I know something is wrong. I want to help you, Loki." The raven haired man coughed; needing to take a big breath. "And..." Another deep breath. "And what exactly makes you think that you can help me?" Thor just shrugged his shoulders; giving him a smile. "Intention. Besides, we are brothers."

Loki crossed his arms over his chest once more. "And what if I simply don't wish to talk to you?" "You don't have to, but I'm sure it would help. Of course you can just keep on bottling all up until it- How does that Midgardian saying go?" Thor frowned; thinking hard. "Ah! Until it eats you up inside!" He shrugged his shoulders again, "Do whatever pleases you." and wanted to stand up, when Loki held him back. "Alright, alright, fine," he grumbled; giving in.

Thor smiled and sat back down beside him. "Spill it. I'm all ears, brother."

Loki sighed; felt the embarrassment creeping a bit up on him. "It's about Y/N... She... She won't let me... see her." Thor frowned; was visibly not catching up, "What do you mean by that?" and causing Loki to roll his eyes. "Oh for faen," he mumbled underneath his breath. "Sex, brother! It's about sex!"

Thor blinked for a few moment, until a shit-eating grin formed on his face. "Does my little brother has problems with satisfying his lady?" He gave him a nudge with his shoulder; wiggling his eyebrows. "Don't fret, brother. I'm the perfect man to give you advice in how to-" Loki pinched the bridge of his nose; already regretting that he agreed to talk to Thor. "It's not that!" He cut his brother off and sighed.

"No?" Thor asked; smile dropping. "What, uh, is it then?" Another sigh left the raven haired god's lips. "Where do I start..." Loki said; more to himself than Thor. "We are together now for almost six months and... I... I'm afraid that I'm doing something wrong..." The blonde's gaze softened; realising that this was a serious, important matter. "Why is that?" Loki started to pick nervously at his nails. "Well, because she... She seems to 'hide' herself from me. She avoids me, seeing her barely dressed or naked. She locks the door when she's showering or changing... I-I mean, I understand that. I really do. If she feels uncomfortable with that yet, then I won't push her, but whenever I try to speak with her about this, she escapes the conversation..." Loki swallows. "And now I'm afraid that I am the reason... You know me, brother... The voices in my head are getting louder and louder. Am I doing something wrong? Did I push her too much and didn't notice it? Is she not trusting me enough? If yes, why?" Loki hung his head; raven curls falling into his face. "I give her all the time she needs. I'd wait forever for her, but... It's bothering me. I-I want to understand it and help her - but I can't, because she won't talk to me... What do I do, brother?"

"Hmm..." Thor hums; scratching his beardy chin. "What if you talk to her properly?" Loki blinked. "Properly?" Thor nodded. "Just... confront her directly. Tell Lady Y/N that this is bothering you and that you wish to understand." "But what if she tries to avoid me again?"

The god of thunder smiled and clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder. "You've got a silver-tongue, brother... Talking is your strength. You just have to wait for the right moment." Loki looked a bit uncertain at the blonde man. "If you say so..." "I know so." The raven haired man gave his brother a small smile. "Thank you."

And Loki waited for the right moment. It took quite a few days for the right moment to arrive, but in the end, it did...

Loki came to you earlier that evening. Steve's eight o'clock meeting didn't take as long as usual and therefore, Loki was too early. Something you didn't know and not anticipated to happen. You were sure that you had enough time to take a shower and get dressed until your boyfriend came back - but you didn't... "Darling?" The god called out for you. It was dark in your apartment. Since you were a couple, Loki spent more time in your home than his. He frowned; looking down the dark hallway - and noticed that the light in your bathroom was on. Only seconds later, he heard the running water of the shower. Loki swallowed hard; knew exactly that you were unaware of his presence. He considered for a millisecond to try and see if the door was open - but no. No, he wouldn't do that. He respected your privacy and whatever you were insecure about.

Taking off his shoes and suit jacket, he decided to wait in the bedroom for you. A green shimmer enveloped his body as he walked inside the cosy room; changing him from his 'business clothes' into casual clothes. Sweatpants and t-shirt. He grabbed the book resting on your nightstand and flopped on the bed; reading.

Meanwhile you still hadn't a single clue that Loki was already back and currently chilling on your bed. Therefore, you finished showering carelessly and made your way to the bedroom after blow drying your hair - only wearing underwear, in order to get dressed.

Humming the song which ghosted through your brain already the whole day, you opened the door and walked in. You were so rapt in the song, you didn't even notice that your bedside lamp was on - or your boyfriend laying on the bed. Loki blinked; was quite shocked about your 'careless behaviour'. His eyes widened as they travelled over your almost nude body; seeing the holy temple he always wanted to worship but never could suddenly in front of him.

"D-Darling?" He more or less stuttered out with a husky voice.

Hearing the sound of his voice; you flinched badly and literally were completely taken by surprise. Like a deer, caught in the headlights you stared at Loki; eyes at the size of plates. But once your mind had caught up, all warnings bells inside your brain were ringing. Get out of here! Get out of here! Your mind was screaming at you. Escape the situation! Flee!

Acting on your instinct, you did just that. You ran. Out of the bedroom, inside the bathroom; door flying shut behind you. Loki immediately realised what was going on and jumped to his feet; storming after you - but he was too slow. Just when he reached the door, the lock clicked shut.

"Darling?!" Loki was afraid; worried that he scared you off even more now. I should've told her I am here, he cursed himself internally. "Y/N? L-Love, please... I'm sorry." A few seconds later, he heard a small sob from the other side; followed by a uncertain, wobbly voice. "A-Are... Are you going to leave me now?"

Loki frowned; was more than just confused - if that was even possible...

"Why... Why in all the nine realms should I leave you, love?" You sobbed - and it almost broke the god's heart. "B-Because you saw me half naked... You probably even saw it..."

Loki blinked. That was it. He couldn't take this anymore. "Okay, darling, please open the door. We need to talk. This is long overdue."

You already feared the worst, as you anxiously unlocked the door and opened it slowly, hesitatingly; letting Loki in. He stepped inside - and was face to face with your almost naked self for the second time in his life. While you fought the urge to cover yourself, Loki literally bathed in the vision of your beautiful body.

"You are stunning, my love. Absolutely beautiful. A goddess."

You blinked. "I-I... What? Loki, are you... Are you kidding me?" Those words almost hurt him. "Why should I, love?" Your jaw dropped. You couldn't believe this. "Don't... Don't you see it?" You gestured at your legs, shoulders and belly. "Are you blind?" A single tear was running down your cheeks - and Loki fought the urge to wipe it away. "You mean the red, bumpy dots-" "On my skin, yes." You interrupted him. Loki swallowed; was very uncertain about how to react in that situation right now. You seemed hurt, but also sad, insecure and angry.

"What are they? Is it a-a illness?" You nodded; defeated. "Keratosis Pilaris. A skin condition, which leaves not very pretty small, rough, reddish or white bumps and patches on the skin." Loki stayed silent for a moment; processing your words. "Is it... harmless?" "Yes." A relieved breath left his lips. "Oh thank the Norns. You really had me worried there for a second, darling." You blinked; were on the brink of being speechless. "You... You are not... d-disgusted?" Horror overtook your boyfriend's face. "Disgusted?!" He shook his head. "No, no, my darling Y/N. Absolutely not. You are the most beautiful woman those eyes have ever seen. I don't care about the bumps and patches. It's a part of you - and I love every part of you."

"Y-You do?"

"Yes. With all my heart."

The butterflies within you belly were running wild at his sweet, heart melting words. It became a lot to handle suddenly; your emotions, insecurities and fears overwhelming you. Words failed you. All you could do was cry. Loki was instantly by your side; literally catching you, wrapping you up in a snug, warm hug. His lips pressed against your forehead. "Shh, my beautiful angel. I love you."

You snuggled even closer against him and just cried; getting all out of your system.

When you had calmed down a bit, Loki carried you back into the bedroom and laid down on the bed with you; pulling you against his body. "Was that the reason why you always avoided to get undressed in front of me?" You nodded; another tear rolling down your cheek. "Y-Yes. I-I'm pretty insecure about my KP a-and well... All the guys I dated before you were, uh, they... They didn't like it." Loki was shocked. Appalled at what you just told him. "All those Midgardian men never fail to disgust me... How dare they." He spat; shaking his head. "They clearly don't know how to treat a woman properly." The god smiled lovingly at you and started to pepper your skin with kisses; paying extra attention to the little bumps on your body.

"Never ever hide yourself from me, my love. I love you just the way you are, okay?" You nodded; giving him a small smile. "Okay."

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

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koolades-world · 11 months ago

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Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

#oneshot #gn reader #hug deprived anon!#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me beel #obey me mammon #grr had a whole battle with the divider the entire time I wrote #not proofread lol #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

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ttokilino · 6 months ago

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FIRST-LOVE JEONGIN!

first love jeongin headcanons!!

18+ ONLY!

please reblog and follow to be added to my taglist <3

leave an ask or use the reblogs to show some love and request any further posts you wish to see!

RECOMMENDED SONG WHILST READING:

SFW!

first-love-jeongin who isnt the one to ask you out! you actually asked him out as you were sat watching a movie, something you do on a weekly basis cuddled up venting and watching comedies or horror films.

first-love-jeongin who pretends to not be scared of horror films everytime but still jumps, and the 100th time he did so, you let out a gentle laugh of fondness and confessed you found it so cute when he did so, expressing your wish to kiss him everytime you see him lightly pout after the jumpscares.

first-love-jeongin who is shocked and asks if you really mean it, leading to you confessing to him. he immediately gets that cheeky innocent grin he has forming on his face as you hum, leaning in to kiss him.

first-love-jeongin who considers that to be the start of your relationship, although nobody officially asked, as you start seeing each other more and go on dates, holding hands walking through parks or tsking silly photos at photobooths (yes he has one in his wallet of you kissing his cheek. no he wont ever confess that to the boys).

first-love-jeongin who eventually asks you to be his official girlfriend although it was meaningless as you knew you were each others already. he is romantic about it, bringing flowers and a small promise ring to slide onto your finger with such delicate movement.

first-love-jeongin who cherishes you, the time you spend together, and the memories you create through photos of your time together. he wont tell anyone else, but hes a big softie when it comes to you. the boys are a little jealous he shows you affection, but ultimately they know you make him happy and that makes them happy to see their maknae so in love.

first-love-jeongin who gives fleeting kisses when coming or going, holding your hand in his when sitting anywhere, leaning on your shoulder when the day has exhausted him, or attempting to cook you food (he definitely asks minho to help him practice cooking the meal beforehand).

first-love-jeongin who wants you to meet his family after two months, although his younger brother teases him and asks you to help him study cause he hates it although hes good at it, and his older brother takes photos of you both when you dont suspect it, although he will use them for black ail if you dont remind him to delete them after he sends jeongin them.

BONUS!

first-love-jeongin's mother who sees you as the daughter she never had, surprising you with meals, clothes, jewellery or anything that may be your hobby. i imagine his mother would love to spemd time with just you as often as she can, going shopping or getting coffee. she is your second mother, of course.

first-love-jeongin's friends who tease him by headlocking and rubbing his head whenever they catch him admiring you with a fond look on his face, eventually relenting as he whines that theyre just jealous.

first-love-jeongin who loves hugs! and dedicated hug me to you when he decided to write it.

NSFW!

first-love-jeongin who isnt your first time, but you are his. this leads to you guiding him the first time and helping him find his confidence, explaining what makes you tick and squirm as he experiments, having free range of your body.

first-love-jeongin who enjoys seeing the light marks after kissing your neck too much (bonus if he was wearing lip tint), or seeing the slight crescent shapes in your hips from his nails after getting too lost in the pleasure.

first-love-jeongin who enjoys seeing you in dark lingerie, black, red, grey, or anything with rose patterns. he especially loves a set thst resembles the flowers he bought you when asking you to be his.

first-love-jeongin who eventually is more teasing and relentlessly, purposely bringing you to the edge to pull off and makeout with you until youre furthermore left breathless.

first-love-jeongin who definitely is a giver rather than a receiver. whilst he loves seeing you crawl up his legs to make his cock feel the most exquisite pleasure, he definitely prefers his head being buried between your thighs, your hair tugging as your nails scratch lightly at his scalp, eliciting moans from him that go straight through you.

first-love-jeongin who loves your breathy whimpers, therefore he experiments with pressing down lightly on your neck during makeouts, realising you loved it as he came to realise you loved his big hands on your body.

first-love-jeongin who will absolutely spank your ass from behind if thats the position you crave, enjoying the feeling of your velvet walls suffocating his cock whenever he does.

first-love-jeongin who loves any and all positions, but ultimately enjoys when youre both in the shower, hair soaked with the mist of the heat from the water steaming the glass panels, pressing you against it. (bonus points if he records from outside the shower to watch alter when getting off, enjoying seeing your tits pressed against the glass, suffocating the poor panel).

BONUS!

first-love-jeongin who loves red. by this, i mean he will absolutely die if you suggest red wax to be used the next time you land in this predicament. and boy, does he love the way the wax trickles slowly down your chest to your stomach before hardening. or even better, pouring it over your ass gently before you ride him, watching pieces of the wax break off each time your ass hits his thighs, eliciting moans from the boy.

first-love jeongin who will definitely use your pretty red lipstick to write his name across your lower stomach, watching in admiration as he draws a heart before smudging it ever so slightly as he pounds into you.

first-love-jeongin who enjoys filming your times together. however, he does it on a camera or phone that you share. you keep it hidden in a place only you both know, and it is filled with the filthiest videos and photos you two have ever taken during your relationship. from your first time being gentle, to the most recent of you quite literally melted into the sheets surrounding in red, red, red. (bonus if the phon or phonecase is red, this colour being your sign.)

first-love-jeongin who knows your sign to each other that you are willing and consenting, as well as verbak confirmation before getting into it, is wearing a necklace with a red gem at the end.

MASTERLIST:- [HERE]

taglist: @hnnnne @isakkaye @flylis @nenesz @linoveins @xx3rachaslutxx @adestayskz @sailorkoss @emmaluvsjisung @mjailene15 @shadowhunterathene @manuosorioh @linocvp1d @sunshineskz00

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littlemessyjessi · 24 days ago

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"The Holiday Imp": A Christmas Twilight Imagine: Emmett Cullen

A Twilight Holiday Imagine: Emmett Cullen

Emmett Cullen x Plus Size Reader, Fem Identifying Reader because I just really like writing for women. Nothing personal against male or genderfluid identifying. I just think women are great and I like writing for women and I will do so as is my right because this is my Tumblr. No hard feelings if you don’t vibe with it. Have a scroll on and I hope you have a great day.

Holiday/Christmas Themed Imagine

Use of Y/N because inclusivity.

…..

The entirety of the Cullen family sat in the living area trying their best not to laugh as this human woman stood with a hip cocked out and an expression of ‘no damns to give’ on her face.

The male in front of her who had caught her attention was taller than her, stronger than her, faster than her…. and also hopelessly in love with her.

“Emmett, I am not doing this with you today.” she said, sipping her hot chocolate from the festive little mug Esme had gotten her.

Esme adored her and got her things she didn’t even ask for.

If it even looked like something Y/N would like, it suddenly just showed up at her home with a note from ‘Mama Esme’.

“Babe, come on. We can’t just take off to Gatlinburg. I mean, the sun..”

“Emmett, first of all it’s December and when I checked the weather it was supposed to be overcast and colder than a well digger’s ass for the next two weeks anyway.”

“Ok, but-”

“ Second of all, my mission is to see the lights which will be at night. Sun problem solved.”

“Alright, fine but-”

“ And last of all, let’s not kid ourselves. I’ll get happy with that Fenty highlighter that Rosie got me anyway and I’ll definitely outshine you, my love. Literally. You ever got a little overzealous with highlighter and made the fatal mistake of taking a photo with flash?” she sassed.

“No, babe, I can’t say I have.” he deadpanned.

“Uncultured swine.” she said, scrunching her nose at him.

“Babe!” he gasped.

“I said it and I meant it!”

“Children.” Carlisle said, trying his best not to laugh…. and failing.

“Emmett, I am going to live out of my Dolly Parton Christmas fantasy with or without you.” she said. “I assumed that seeing as how you literally grew up in Gatlinburg this might be something that you wanted to share with your partner. I would love to share it with you. However, I do not NEED you to be present to live out of my Rock Candy Christmas fantasy.”

This was a trap and he knew it.

That grinch slipper tapping against the floor was his first indication.

That sparkly red nail tapping against that glittery mug of cocoa was the next.

His own mother was the nail in the coffin.

“Well, Y/N honey, we could always make it a girls trip.” Esme said, giving Emmett a look of amusement over Y/N’s shoulder.

“You know what, Mama E. I think that is a fantastic idea.” she said. “Holiday girls trip! Rosie, Bells, Alice? You in?”

“I’m in!” Alice said. “Shopping Spree!”

“Makeovers!” Rosalie gushed.

Emmett’s eyes narrowed.

His ex wife turned best friend was definitely taking a little too much glee out of this.

“We could even go dancing if you like.” suggested Bella… which shocked everyone.

The clumsiness had left that woman the moment she became a vampire…but the adversion to social situations had not.

However, Isabella Cullen took great delight in tormenting her brother in laws.

Her husband, Edward, knew this and when Renesmee put in for wanting to go…. not only did he agree but ….

“You know, now that you mention it… I think it would make a nice family holiday.” Edward smirked at his brother.

He could see Emmett’s jaw ticking, teeth grinding together and he cursed him with every insult he could think of.

“I’m in too.” said Jasper, easily picking up on Edward’s teasing nature.

“Can Jake come too?” Renesmee asked to which Edward simply nodded distractly, far too entertained with Emmett’s glare.

“Well, it’s settled then.” Carlisle said. “It’ll be a family holiday in the mountains.”

“You do realize that the moment we get there she’s going to insist we get all dressed up in those ridiculous pictures and take ‘old timey photos’, right?” he asked, not at all on board to play dress up.

Y/N stared her boyfriend down and said, “Yes, I will. And you know what? We’re going to do it too.”

Emmett said nothing as he stared at this woman wondering just where it was that she’d got the audacity to be this cute and this infuriating at the same time.

“I’ve got someone on hold.” Alice said. “Do we all want to share a big cabin or should I see if they have separates?”

Y/N didn’t bother answering as Esme and Carlisle joined Alice for the conversation.

“You do realize that we have photos of us all in those ‘old timey’ clothes right?” Emmett pointed out.

“Not with me in them.” Y/N said and Emmett deflated when he realized. “And not with Bella or Renesmee or Jake. Listen, I realize that you have been around for a while now and that traditions might not mean a lot to you anymore but they sure as shit mean something to me. They always have. I came from very little in life but pictures were something that I could always do and free experiences like looking at holiday lights were something that I could do as a kid when I didn’t even have a car. I just walked but it was magical.”

Emmett’s gaze softened as he took her in for the first time.

He’d gotten so caught up in thinking her being sassy was cute and then letting his competitive nature flair when she wouldn’t back down…. that he completely missed the warning signs here.

He should’ve known that there was more to it when she was willing to go without him and do a girl’s trip.

“Baby…”

“You don’t have to but it would mean a lot to me.” she said. “But if you’ve got trauma because you literally died there and your old life and family then hey, I get it. I just-”

“I don’t have trauma there. Well, I guess I do but I worked through that a long time ago. You forget I’ve got years on you to have gotten through that.” he said, slowly stepping towards her and gathering her in his burly arms.

She easily curled her soft, squishy body against him, happy to wind her arms around his neck.

“Listen, Em. Next year, I am literally taking the bite to hopefully spend all of eternity with you and I’m happy to do that. However, neither one of us know if I’ll even survive that.” she spoke honestly and Emmett, despite not even needing to, swallowed hard at the thought. “And I’ve made my peace with that. I believe in God and he’s been my friend all my life. If it doesn’t work out then I understand what that means and I’m ready for Jesus when he’s ready for me. However, whether I do or whether I don’t…. I also know what that means for you. I want us to have memories for you to look back one day. Hopefully, it will be with me looking just as fabulous but having all the perks of superhuman bells and whistles but-”

“Superhuman bells and whistles?”

“Yes, now lemme finish.”

Emmett chuckled and tucked her tighter into his arms but let her continue.

“The point, Emmett Dale McCarty Cullen, is that I hope and pray that we’ll get to look at this pictures for centuries and centuries together but I also want you to be prepared in case it doesn’t go the way we planned. You might not want to look at them for a while. For years. Decades maybe. But some day, you are going to want them. I know. I’ve lost people. I treasure some of the pictures I have and wish like hell that I had more because they’re all I have left.” she said, rubbing her thumb across his cheek where his dimple had appeared the moment she said his full name.

He let loose a sigh, long and full of amusement at this sassy woman who he loved so much.

He pressed his forehead against hers, “We’re getting our own cabin.”

“Deal!” She cheered before planting a massive kiss to his lips with enough ferocity that it had Emmett pulling her up into his arms and wrapping her legs around his torso.

Emmett had a feeling that he would be picking glitter out of his hair for the next year… but the smile of her face made it worth it.

With an extra tight squeeze he thought to himself, ‘Merry Christmas to me.’

The wheeze that came out of the woman in his arms brought him back to reality.

“Babe! Cutting off oxygen! Losing air!” she gasped and he let go only to be smacked in the chest, “Don’t think making me pass out will get you out of this. I have your whole family on board now. This is happening and they’ll live forever. If you kill me now to get out of Christmas Spirit then I will make sure to tell Alice with my last dying breath to NEVER let you live this down!”

“Merry Christmas, babe.” he said with a peck to her lips.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” she said and returned the kiss. “Now, let’s go. We need to pack together.”

“Why?” he whined. “Because, Emmett, I want our outfits to be coordinated for my pictures. If you don’t cooperate with me on this, and I’m going to quote Delia Deetz here, I will go insane and I will take you with me!”

Emmett stared at her for a moment before scooping into his arms and heading up stairs.

“Wait! My hot choccy!”

“Here you go, sweetheart.” Esme said, handing her a fresh one. “This one has caramel marshmallows and italian sweet cream.”

“Esme, you are the love of my life, I swear.” she said.

“Wow.” said Emmett, still holding the woman dramatically dangling from his arms. “Am I chopped liver to you now?”

“No, babe, you’re all beef.” she said. “Being as you’re so bull headed.”

Emmett narrowed his eyes.

Y/N smiled at him sweetly.

And Esme just shook her head at them.

“Try not to kill each other before we leave. I would actually like some family pictures as well.” she said.

“Mwuahaha.”

Emmett furrowed his brows down at the woman in his arms, “Did you just cackle maniacally?”

“I’d say it was more of an impish giggle but sure.” she grinned. “Yeah, just call me The Holiday Imp. I mean, I guess that could be Krampus but I’m going with it!”

“She bosses me around, manipulates me, turns my family against me, uses me as her royal steed and then has the audacity to be this cute when she laughs at me evilly. God, what have I done? Is this a punishment?” he asked dramatically.

“Be grateful and tell Jesus thank you. At least I’m pretty and I give great cuddles.” she sassed.

“That is very true.” he said and leaned down to peck the tip of her nose. “Thank you God for this gift that you have given me.”

…..

Hello, loves! I hope you enjoy this holiday content!

Hope ya’ll are having a great day!

Love you.

—

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K, Love you, Bye!

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metalmonki · 12 days ago

Text

Objection! Part 9

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

5.3k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Authors Note: I am not happy with this chapter. I might come back to it after Christmas. I might edit it while I'm away who knows. I feel like it could be so much better.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Sonny brought the car to a screeching halt in front of the DA’s office, the tires protesting loudly as we stopped. I barely waited for the engine to cut before throwing the door open and sprinting toward the building. Sonny and Olivia were right behind me, their footsteps pounding in unison with mine.

We burst through the doors, startling Carmen, who was seated at her desk with a cup of coffee in hand. Her usual calm demeanour faltered as she looked up at us, confused by our urgency.

“Carmen!” I barked, my voice sharper than I intended. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Has anyone been in my office today? Did anyone leave anything for me?”

“What—what’s going on?” she stammered, clearly thrown off by my tone.

“Just answer the question!” I snapped, running a hand through my hair as my nerves got the better of me.

She frowned, clearly trying to process my outburst. “There was a delivery earlier. A box—it’s on your desk.”

My stomach dropped. I turned toward my office door, already dreading what I might find. A cold sweat prickled my skin as my mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. God, please don’t let it be a piece of her. Not like this.

But Sonny had already shoved past me, charging into my office with no hesitation. He grabbed the box from my desk, ripping the lid off in one swift motion.

For a moment, none of us breathed. Then Sonny pulled out… a plush chinchilla.

Olivia blinked, breaking the silence with a deadpan, “Is that a rat?”

“It’s not a rat!” Sonny shot back, glaring at her as he held the plush defensively. He studied it with an intensity that would have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire.

Meanwhile, I was struggling to keep up. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?” I muttered, stepping closer to the desk. My eyes landed on the folded piece of paper still inside the box. I snatched it up and unfolded it with shaking hands.

Olivia leaned in, reading over my shoulder. “For the next six clues, you’ll have to ask—but be quick, or she’ll pass.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and ominous. I felt my stomach churn. “Ask who? And what does ‘she’ll pass’ mean? Is he threatening her life, or is this another one of his games?”

Sonny, still holding the chinchilla, finally spoke up. “It’s not a rat—it’s a chinchilla. And I’m pretty sure the only place in the city with chinchillas is the Bronx Zoo.”

“The Bronx Zoo?” Olivia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sonny nodded firmly. “It was Y/N’s favourite place growing up. She’d go there every chance she got. And every visit started and ended with the chinchillas. It has to be the zoo.”

We didn’t waste any time. Back in the car, Sonny took the wheel again, his driving just as reckless as before. The urgency in the air was suffocating, every second ticking by like a countdown to disaster.

As the car sped through the city streets, Sonny spoke over the roar of the engine. “When we were kids, our parents would take her to the Bronx Zoo for her birthday. Every year. The first and last thing she’d do was visit the chinchillas. She loves them.”

I stared at the plush in my hands, trying to reconcile the sweet memory Sonny shared with the grim reality we were facing. My fingers tapped anxiously against my thigh as I tucked the Chincilla away with the book from earlier. “The note,” I said, turning back to Olivia. “What do you think it means? ‘Ask’? Ask who? Ask what?”

Olivia shrugged, her expression tight with worry. “It could mean anything. Marco’s been deliberately vague this entire time. He’s toying with us, and he knows it.”

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling beneath the surface. Every step of this chase felt like a slap in the face, a reminder of how helpless I was in protecting Y/N. But there wasn’t time for self-pity. We had to stay sharp.

Sonny glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Whatever it means, we’ll figure it out. We have to. Let’s just get to the zoo first.”

His voice was steady, but I could see the tension in his grip on the steering wheel. We all knew the stakes. And with every mile closer to the Bronx Zoo, my determination solidified.

I couldn’t let Marco win. Not this time.

…

Sonny pulled the car to a jerking halt outside the Bronx Zoo. I barely had time to exhale before Olivia was already out, her badge flashing as she approached the ticket booth.

“We’re NYPD,” she said briskly, showing the man behind the glass her identification. “Has anyone left anything for us? A package, a message?”

The man blinked, startled by her intensity, and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Nothing’s been left here.”

I stepped forward, pulling out my phone to show him a picture of Marco. “What about this man? Have you seen him recently?”

The guy leaned closer, squinting at the screen. “I don’t think so. But I can’t say for sure. We’ve had a lot of visitors today.”

It was frustratingly vague, but there wasn’t time to press him further. We headed straight through the gates, the familiar smell of popcorn and animal enclosures hitting me as we walked. Despite the urgency of the situation, I couldn’t help the faint pang of nostalgia that tugged at me. Y/N had spoken about this place before, about how much she loved it as a kid. And now, it felt like Marco was using that love against her—and us.

“Where to?” Olivia asked, glancing around the sprawling zoo grounds.

“The Mouse House,” Sonny answered, as if it were obvious. “Chinchillas. Let’s move.”

We navigated the winding pathways, dodging families and strollers, my eyes scanning every face we passed. My nerves were taut, every sound and movement setting my heart racing.

The Mouse House was dimly lit, the soft chatter of visitors echoing off the walls. The smell of hay and sawdust hung in the air as we wound our way through the narrow corridors. My pulse quickened with every step, my eyes darting to every corner, searching for anything out of place.

When we reached the chinchilla enclosure, I stopped short. There they were—tiny, fluffy creatures with twitching noses, hopping around in their habitat like nothing in the world could bother them. Y/N’s voice echoed in my mind, her excitement as she’d once described them to me after I asked her about her computer background, the only reason I had recognised the Chincilla plush for what it was.

But there was no sign of Marco. No sign of Y/N. Just the glass enclosure and the animals inside.

Sonny was already scouring the area, checking behind benches and trash cans, while Olivia questioned a zookeeper standing nearby. I stood frozen, my gut telling me we weren’t in the wrong place—but we were missing something.

“Barba,” Sonny called, his voice sharp. He was crouched near the edge of the enclosure, holding something in his hand. A folded piece of paper.

I moved quickly, snatching it from him and unfolding it. The message was written in Marco’s now-familiar scrawl:

“You’re halfway there. Keep following her heart, and you might just save it.”

My grip tightened on the paper as frustration bubbled up inside me. “Her heart?” I muttered aloud, staring at the words. “What the hell does that mean?”

Olivia glanced over my shoulder. “Could be literal, could be figurative. Either way, it’s cryptic as hell.”

Sonny stood, brushing off his pants. “Her heart... what else did Y/N love? Something she always talked about?”

The weight of the chase pressed down on me like an anchor, each step feeling heavier than the last. Marco was toying with us, stringing us along with vague clues, and Y/N’s life was slipping through our fingers. Every moment wasted felt like a step closer to losing her.

As we reached the far end of the Mouse House, I spotted a man standing behind an ice cream cart, his colorful setup a jarring contrast to the dimly lit surroundings. He greeted each passerby with an enthusiastic grin, cheerfully handing out cones piled high with creamy swirls.

I approached cautiously, hope flickering weakly in my chest. Maybe he had seen something. Maybe he held another piece of the puzzle.

"Free ice cream today!" the man announced as I neared, his voice full of warmth. He held out a cone toward me, the scent of vanilla and sugar wafting in the air. "Some generous guy came by this morning and paid for the whole cart—said to make sure everyone got one."

I forced a polite smile, though the tension in my chest made it impossible to enjoy the gesture. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” My tone was clipped, businesslike. I pulled out my phone and held up the screen, showing him the photo of Marco. “Was it this man? Did he pay for the ice cream?”

The vendor leaned closer, squinting at the screen. After a moment, he nodded with a bright smile. “Yeah, that’s him! Paid in cash, too. Real nice guy, seemed like he just wanted to spread some joy.”

I clenched my jaw, my frustration barely contained. The ease with which Marco charmed people was infuriating, his calculated moves cloaked in harmless gestures. “Did he say anything else? Leave anything behind?”

The man shook his head, his cheerful demeanor unshaken. “Nope, just told me to give out the ice cream. That’s all.”

I nodded tightly, stepping back from the cart as a dull ache settled in my chest. “Thanks,” I muttered, my voice devoid of the gratitude I should have expressed.

“Have a good day!” the vendor called after me, his voice far too bright for the grim thoughts swirling in my mind.

I turned to Sonny and Olivia, who were already watching me. Their expressions mirrored my own—a blend of frustration and helplessness. The ice cream clue was another dead end, another cruel twist in Marco’s game.

Sonny ran a hand through his hair, pacing in agitated circles. “What now? Ice cream? Are we supposed to figure out some connection to ice cream now?”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down harder. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But Marco’s not doing this without a reason. There’s something here. We just have to see it.”

The thought gnawed at me as the three of us stood there, the clock ticking relentlessly in the background. We had to figure this out—and fast.

“What now?” Olivia asked, her tone edged with impatience.

“He paid for the ice cream and told the guy to give it out for free. That’s it.” I ran a hand down my face, trying to think. “Nothing else. No clue.”

Olivia looked at Sonny. “Anything? Does Y/N have some connection to ice cream? A favourite parlour or something?”

Sonny shook his head, his hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “Not that I can think of. She likes ice cream, sure, but nothing stands out.”

The thought of involving Amaro stung, like a sharp jab to an already tender wound, but I swallowed my pride. It wasn’t about me—it was about Y/N. If he could help us, I’d endure it. My voice came out lower than I intended, weighed down by reluctance.

“Maybe we should ask Amaro,” I said, each word feeling like it dragged itself out of me. “He knew about the bookstore—maybe he knows something we don’t.”

Sonny’s eyes widened, but not in surprise—more like a light bulb had just gone off. He snapped his fingers, his expression shifting to determination. “Wait. What if Marco means we need to ask the people around her? The ones who know her best.”

Before I could respond, he was already pulling out his phone, his fingers moving fast as he dialed.

Amaro picked up after just a few rings, his voice calm but questioning. “What’s going on?”

“We’re at the zoo, following Marco’s trail, but we’re stuck,” Sonny explained, his words rapid and urgent. “Do you know if Y/N has a favorite ice cream spot?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by muffled voices as Amaro apparently relayed the question to others nearby. I clenched my fists, waiting, frustration bubbling beneath my skin.

After a brief silence, Amanda’s voice came through, clear and confident. “The Museum of Ice Cream,” she said firmly. “Y/N takes Jesse there all the time for girls’ days. It’s their go-to spot. The sprinkle pool is Jesse’s favorite part.”

Sonny’s face lit up with relief. He snapped his fingers again, nodding. “That’s it. Amanda, you’re a genius. Thank you.”

Amanda’s voice carried a hint of urgency now. “If Marco’s sending you there, don’t waste time. Go.”

“We’re on it,” Sonny promised, already moving toward the car.

I followed, my chest tight with a mix of emotions. Gratitude that Amanda knew the answer, frustration that I hadn’t, and an undercurrent of desperation to get to Y/N before it was too late.

…

The ride to the Museum of Ice Cream was suffocating. The only sound in the car was the hum of the engine and the occasional impatient sigh from Sonny as he maneuverered through the city streets. I sat in the back, staring out the window but seeing nothing.

My thoughts churned like a storm, each one landing heavier than the last. Amanda and Nick had known Y/N’s favourite places, her habits, her joys. Nick had known about the bookstore, Amanda about the Museum of Ice Cream. Even Sonny, her brother, had insights into her world that I could never claim.

I was her colleague, her partner. We worked side by side every day, and yet, what did I know about her? Not enough, that much was clear. Somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that knowing her professionally was enough. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

The sharp screech of brakes jolted me out of my thoughts. Sonny brought the car to a halt in front of the brightly coloured façade of the Museum of Ice Cream.

“Let’s go,” he said, already climbing out.

We moved as one, a silent agreement to head straight for the sprinkle pool. If Amanda knew it was Y/N’s favourite, Marco did too.

Inside, the museum was alive with colour and laughter, a stark contrast to the grim tension between us. We weaved through the exhibits until we reached the sprinkle pool, a massive pit filled with foam sprinkles where kids dove in gleefully while parents looked on.

As we stood there, scanning the room for any sign of a clue, a woman in a pink uniform approached us with a broad smile. The logo on her shirt marked her as a museum employee.

“Good afternoon!” she said brightly, handing each of us a card.

I glanced at it: One Free Family Meal at a Restaurant of Your Choice.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you handing these out?”

The woman kept her smile, but there was a hint of confusion in her expression. “A courier dropped them off this morning with a note. It said to give them to everyone who enters today as part of a promotional event. It’s unusual, but we followed the instructions.”

The moment she walked away, Olivia turned to Sonny. “What’s Y/N’s favourite restaurant?”

Sonny rubbed a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. “There was this place we went to as kids, every Sunday with our parents and grandparents. It became a tradition, and Y/N kept going even after the rest of us stopped. But I can’t remember the name.”

His fingers were already flying over his phone as he tried calling someone. After three attempts, he cursed under his breath and scrolled through his contacts again. This time, he paused and hesitated before dialling.

“She’ll know,” he muttered.

The line barely rang before it connected, and he began speaking rapidly in Italian.

“Mamma…sì, ho ricevuto il tuo messaggio…mamma…mamma...sì, saremo lì per Natale, non ce lo perderemo, lo sai…ascolta, qual era il ristorante dove andavamo con i nonni? Pensavo di prendere un buono per coccinella per Natale…Grazie mamma… Ti voglio bene, ciao” (Mum yes I've been getting your messages, Mum Mum, yes we'll be there for Chrismas we wouldn't miss it you know that, listen what was that restaurant we use to go to with Grandma and Grandpa? I was thinking I would get a gift certificate for ladybug for Christmas. Thanks Mum. Love you bye)

Olivia and I exchanged a glance, neither of us able to follow the conversation. But we didn’t need to. The tight set of Sonny’s jaw and the relief in his expression told us all we needed to know.

When he hung up, he turned to us, his voice firm. “La Nonna Restaurant. Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for a response, already heading back toward the car. Olivia and I followed without question, a new wave of determination driving us forward.

…

Sonny drove with single-minded focus, weaving through traffic as the city flew by in a blur. La Nonna was etched deep in his childhood memories, and now it was the thread we followed, hoping it would finally lead us closer to Y/N.

The weight of my inadequacies pressed harder against my chest as the car sped toward La Nonna. I sat in the back seat, silent, letting the others talk around me. I was haunted by my lack of connection to this piece of Y/N’s life. La Nonna, a place that seemed etched into her family’s history, was foreign to me. While I worked alongside her every day, Marco had exposed just how shallow my understanding of her truly was.

The car came to an abrupt stop outside a cozy, brick-fronted restaurant. The windows glowed warmly against the fading daylight, and the air was rich with the scent of freshly baked bread and garlic. It should have been inviting, but urgency overrode any appreciation for its charm.

We pushed through the door, and the sound of light chatter and clinking plates greeted us. Behind the counter stood an older woman, her kind eyes lighting up in recognition as she saw Sonny.

“Sonny Carisi? My goodness, it’s been ages!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with both surprise and affection.

Sonny managed a quick, polite smile, but his tone was sharp and efficient. “Mrs. Marinelli, I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to catch up. Did someone leave something here for us? A note, a package—anything?”

Her expression shifted to concern as she studied his face. “A young man did stop by this morning. Left an envelope and told me to hold onto it. Said someone would come for it later.” She reached under the counter, pulling out a plain white envelope and handing it to Sonny.

His fingers trembled as he tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with Marco’s familiar cryptic handwriting. Sonny handed it to Olivia, who read aloud:

“Music spins memories and history unfolds. Find what was lost where vinyl molds.”

Olivia’s brow furrowed as she lowered the paper. “Music and vinyl? What does that even mean?”

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. “It’s vague on purpose. Marco’s playing games, and every second we waste gives him more power over us.” My voice was tighter than I intended, but the clock was ticking, and Y/N’s life hung in the balance.

Sonny began pacing the narrow space in front of the counter, muttering fragments of the clue under his breath. Olivia pulled out her phone, her fingers flying as she searched for connections. I stared at the note, willing it to make sense, but the answer danced just out of reach.

A buzz from Olivia’s phone broke the tense silence. She glanced at the screen and frowned before answering. “It’s Finn. I sent him a picture of the clue.”

She put the call on speaker, Finn’s steady voice cutting through the static. “You’re looking for Academy Records,” he said without hesitation.

Sonny stopped pacing, turning sharply toward the phone. “What? How do you know that?”

Finn’s tone was calm but certain. “Y/N loves that place. She’s dragged me there a few times. She’s got a thing for vinyl—old classics, rare finds. If Marco knows her as well as it seems, that’s where he’d send you next.”

Sonny exhaled sharply, already moving toward the door. “Thanks, Finn. We owe you one.”

The three of us piled back into the car, the engine roaring to life as Sonny floored the gas pedal. The urgency in the air was almost suffocating, but my thoughts spiraled inward.

Academy Records. Another corner of Y/N’s world I had never stepped into. Finn had shared moments with her there, moments I couldn’t even imagine. I didn’t belong in her life—not the way these other people did.

But there was no time to dwell on regrets. I could make up for my failures later. Y/N’s life depended on us moving faster, thinking smarter, and staying one step ahead of Marco’s game. I forced my focus back to the road ahead as the city blurred by, the cryptic note burned into my thoughts.

Marco’s game wasn’t over yet, but neither was ours.

…

We reached Academy Records in what felt like record time, the tires screeching as Sonny brought the car to an abrupt halt. None of us waited for a complete stop before flinging our doors open and rushing inside.

The store was small and chaotic, a maze of tightly packed shelves stuffed with vinyl records. The faint crackle of an old jazz tune played over the speakers, mixing with the smell of aged cardboard and faint traces of incense. Behind the counter stood a young man in his early twenties, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he barely glanced up at the jingling bell above the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked lazily, his tone oozing disinterest as he set down a cup of coffee.

Sonny stepped forward, the urgency in his voice cutting through the young man’s nonchalance. “We’re looking for something that might’ve been left here—a note, a package, anything unusual.”

The man blinked, finally giving us his full attention. His expression turned thoughtful, and then he shrugged. “Some weird guy came in this morning. Didn’t buy anything. Just left this.” He ducked behind the counter and came back up holding a folded piece of paper, slightly crumpled, as if it had been handled with as little care as possible.

Olivia took the note, her movements cautious, as though the thin piece of paper might hold a detonator. She unfolded it and scanned the words before reading them aloud: “Where the horses run and the waves crash loud, her laughter lingers under the clouds.”

The riddle hung heavy in the air, its poetic phrasing a stark contrast to the stark reality we faced.

Sonny groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Another damn riddle. We don’t have time for this!” His voice was sharp, frustration spilling over as the minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity.

I clenched my fists, staring at the note as if I could will it to reveal its secrets. Marco’s games were wearing us down, but Olivia’s sudden shift in expression caught my attention.

Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of recognition lighting her face. “I know where this is,” she said, her voice steady.

Sonny and I turned to her simultaneously, disbelief and hope mingling in our gazes.

“It’s Coney Island,” she continued with certainty. “The carousel. Y/N takes Noah there all the time. He talks about it all the time— the way Noah’s face lights up when he tells me how they ride together.”

Her words hit me like a gut punch. Another place Y/N had shared with someone else, another moment I’d never been a part of. The hollow ache in my chest grew, but I shoved it aside.

“Then we go now,” Sonny said, his tone clipped as he turned and headed for the door.

Olivia and I followed close behind, my mind racing as we climbed back into the car. The streets blurred past the windows, but all I could think about was the clock ticking down and the desperate hope that we weren’t already too late. Sonny drove like a man possessed, weaving through traffic with a focus that bordered on reckless.

In the backseat, I sat in silence, my thoughts a chaotic storm. I couldn’t help but feel like I was failing Y/N in more ways than one. She had shared so much of herself with the people around her—Sonny, Olivia, even Finn—and yet I had missed so much.

Olivia’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Rafael, don’t beat yourself up.”

I looked up, startled. She wasn’t even looking at me, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, but somehow she knew exactly what I was thinking.

Olivia continued. “What matters is that we get to her in time.”

I nodded, though her words did little to ease the tightness in my chest.

…

The car skidded to a stop at Coney Island, and the carousel loomed ahead, its brilliant lights casting flickering reflections on the damp boardwalk. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, but I couldn’t spare a moment to take it in. All I could think about was Y/N—her life hanging by a thread, and the clock relentlessly ticking down.

The salty breeze hit me as we stepped onto the boardwalk, the faint sound of crashing waves blending with the distant laughter of families enjoying the evening. But the carousel's joyful melody felt like a cruel juxtaposition to the dread coiling in my chest.

We ran, the weathered planks of the boardwalk groaning under our hurried steps. The carousel lights grew brighter as we neared, their spinning patterns like a beacon pulling us forward. Sonny, Olivia, and I spread out immediately, questioning everyone within earshot—carousel workers, parents corralling their children, teenagers clustered with ice cream cones. But every inquiry met with a blank stare, a shake of the head, or a polite, ��Sorry, haven’t seen anything.”

Frustration mounted like a storm inside me. My breaths came heavy, each one laced with the weight of Marco’s cruel taunts. Standing in front of the carousel, I repeated his chilling words aloud, barely realizing it: The longer you take, the more water fills her space.

Sonny spun on his heel, his face a mask of fury. “Are you serious, Barba?” he snapped, his voice cracking with anger. “We’re standing next to the damn ocean! How the hell are we supposed to figure this out from those stupid words?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came. My throat tightened as Sonny’s frustration boiled over. He marched toward me, jabbing a finger at my chest.

“This is all your fault!” he shouted, his voice raw. “You’re the reason she’s in this mess! Marco didn’t just pick her out of nowhere—why? Why did he go after my sister?”

Olivia shot me a desperate look, shaking her head as if to warn me against saying what I knew I had to. But the truth had been clawing at my chest for weeks, and it wouldn’t stay buried any longer.

I lowered my gaze, my voice barely audible. “Because I’m in love with her.”

Sonny froze. His hand hovered in mid-air as if the words had physically struck him. Then, in an instant, the shock gave way to a surge of anger. He grabbed my collar, yanking me close, his face inches from mine.

“You’re in love with her?” he spat, his voice shaking with rage. “And because of that, she’s lying out there somewhere, maybe drowning while we waste time chasing riddles? You didn’t even know anything about her, Barba. Her favorite things, the things that make her, her. You didn’t even know where she got your coffee. You think loving her makes up for all the ways you failed her?”

Each word hit harder than Sonny’s fists ever could, and I knew he was right. I had been so wrapped up in my feelings for Y/N, so afraid to cross a line, that I had let someone else exploit the space between us.

“You put her in danger because you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself!” Sonny yelled, his voice cracking. “And now we don’t even know if she’s still alive!”

The punch came out of nowhere, his fist slamming into my jaw with a force that sent stars dancing across my vision. Pain exploded across my face, but I didn’t raise a hand to defend myself. I didn’t move at all. I deserved it.

“Enough!” Olivia shouted, stepping between us and pushing Sonny back. “This isn’t helping anyone!”

I touched the corner of my mouth, feeling the warm stickiness of blood on my fingertips. “It’s fine,” I rasped, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I deserved that.”

Sonny’s chest heaved as he let go of my collar. He turned away, his anger still palpable, and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling backup. I want every available unit down here now. We’re combing every inch of this place until we find her.”

…

The flurry of officers and emergency responders that followed was both chaotic and a small comfort. Red and blue lights danced across the dark waves as search teams spread out along the beach, the docks, and every hidden corner of the area. Voices called out over the roar of the surf, flashlights sweeping over shadowed nooks and crannies.

But Marco’s words kept gnawing at me: The longer you take, the more water fills her space. My mind turned the phrase over again and again until a horrifying realization struck.

“The tide,” I whispered, my stomach twisting. Then louder, I shouted, “We have until high tide! Wherever she is, it’s going to flood!”

The words sent a ripple of urgency through the search teams. Everyone moved faster, their voices growing sharper and more determined.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a voice shouted from beneath the docks, “Over here!”

We all ran toward the sound, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. Beneath the wooden structure, in a small crawlspace created from rocks barely visible in the growing shadows, lay Y/N. The water was already lapping at her face. A paramedic was already down with her checking for signs of life. When he yelled back that she still had a pulse I released a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Get her out of there!” Sonny yelled, his voice cracking with desperation.

Officers scrambled to free her, lifting her carefully onto a stretcher. My breath caught as I saw her face—so still, so unlike the vibrant woman I knew. But the faint rise and fall of her chest told me she was still fighting.

The paramedics arrived in a flurry of motion, stabilizing her as they carried her toward the waiting ambulance. Sonny climbed in immediately, his hands shaking as he gripped hers.

Then, to my utter shock, he turned to me. “Barba,” he said gruffly, his voice tight with emotion. “Get in.”

I hesitated for only a second before nodding, climbing into the ambulance and taking the seat across from him. The ride was silent, save for the beeping monitors and the hum of the engine. Sonny didn’t look at me, his focus entirely on Y/N, but his invitation spoke volumes.

All that mattered now was that we had found her. She was alive. And we would do whatever it took to keep her that way.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight @chriskevinevans

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #law and order svu #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #carisi!reader!#svu #rafael barba #law and order special victims unit

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