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heavyhitterheaux · 5 months ago

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Don't Mess With My Man (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

If you mess with my man, I'ma be the one to break it to ya

Got my girls, got my man, so find your own and leave mine alone

Don't mess with my man, I'ma be the one to break it to ya

Here's a little advice for you, find your own man

Synopsis: You didn't think of yourself as the jealous type, but when you notice all of the attention that Joe gets from other women, it quickly makes you grow frustrated

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The two of you were walking back to Joe's car to head back to his apartment since you both had finished up your classes for the day, when you suddenly heard what felt like nails on a chalkboard for what felt like the millionth time and instantly winced at the sound.

“Hiii Joe!” Another random girl said and you knew for a fact that the number of women that had come up to him since classes had started back up had to have been at least twenty.

It instantly got an eye roll from you as your boyfriend, being polite as he is, responded back with a smile before taking your hand in his and tugging you along in the direction of where his car was. This had been a thing ever since the beginning of last semester when he made his football debut at LSU, but it honestly didn't bother you then.

It was probably because he hadn't stepped into the role of being your boyfriend, even if a lot of people had thought the two of you were together seeing as you were always around him and vice versa.

You didn't think of yourself as a jealous person by any means, but all the attention that Joe got from women did bother you.

He was yours, not theirs.

And they needed to know their place.

As the two of you were walking, he was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand and glanced over at you periodically. You had been unusually quiet and Joe knew that something had been bothering you. But every time he would ask, you simply brushed him off. And this had been going on all week. Not wanting to push you, he didn't keep asking and his thought was that you would tell him when you were ready.

“Princess, did you hear me?” Joe asked, taking you out of your thoughts and you quickly shook your head no.

“No, sorry. What did you say?” You asked and stopped to look over at him.

“I asked if you wanted to get burritos for dinner.”

“Oh, yeah that's fine.” You answered and took a step in order to continue walking but noticed Joe didn't match your steps and was still standing in the same place, looking at you.

“What? Aren't we going back to your apartment?” You asked as you made your way back over to him.

“We are, but something is wrong and you aren't telling me.”

“I'm fine, nothings wrong.” You told him, but you knew deep down that he wasn't buying it.

“Then why do I feel as if you're acting off?”

“I just… this semester is going to be heavy for me and I'm thinking about all that I'm going to have to be responsible for including gymnastics. That's all.” You said hoping that would be a satisfying enough answer for him.

“That's not it either, but I'm not going to push you. When you're ready to talk, let me know.”

“There isn't even anything to talk about. I said what I said.” You replied with a slight attitude as you had slid in the passenger seat of Joe's car after he had opened the door for you and you responded immediately by closing it yourself instead of waiting for him.

Once he came around to the driver's side and got in, he put his seatbelt on and turned on the car and started driving before saying anything to you.

“Babe, I don't know what the attitude is for when I literally haven't done anything.” Joe said as he was trying to be as patient as possible with you, but it was definitely running out.

“Can you just drive, please?” You asked as you had now crossed your arms and stared out the window.

“No, I can’t just drive when my girlfriend is upset and I know something is bothering her but she refuses to tell me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?”

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I know you're lying to me? Why are you lying about that? I can't fix the problem if you don't tell me what it is.”

“Because you are trying to fix a problem that doesn't even exist! You know what? Just take me to my apartment. I want to be by myself.”

“Are you…? Are you serious right now?” Joe asked as he scoffed and you couldn't help but to roll your eyes once more.

“Did I stutter?”

“Fine, as you wish.” Joe told you as he turned around and started going in the other direction. Once he pulled up to your apartment, you immediately jumped out without saying anything to him while slamming the car door behind you.

“Seriously!?�� Joe asked and you could slightly hear him through the closed car door, but you didn't bother looking back at him and continued to walk straight into the building.

“Okay, love you too princess.” Joe said out loud before sighing.

Once you reached your apartment, you threw your bag onto the couch before letting out a frustrated sigh. You did exactly the opposite of what you intended to and now you know for a fact that your boyfriend was mad at you even if he didn't outright say it.

One thing you appreciated Joe for was being patient with you even when you didn't think you deserved it. All in all, you believed that it all boiled down to what he saw you go through with your ex-boyfriend. You had never really liked talking about your feelings and would bottle everything up until it came boiling to the surface. Simply because any time you tried to talk to him, he would brush you off.

Meanwhile, Joe was at a loss and had no idea how to make it better since he wasn’t quite sure what the problem was to begin with. He noticed that you had been off for basically the entire week and planned to get an answer out of you one way or another.

To get his mind off of it, he decided to head to the gym in order to get rid of some of his frustration. At the end of the day, he knew that he loved and cared about you so the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel as if you couldn't talk to him or make it seem that he wasn't approachable or a good listener.

But, he also knew that he had to be patient from what you had been dealt with when you were with Trevor. Plenty of times he would see you upset after an argument that you had with him and every time you would tell him what the argument was about, it would always be (in his opinion) Trevor's fault.

It had been two whole days.

During those two days, it only consisted of you reading his text messages and if you responded, they were only one or two word answers.

As bad as Joe wanted to send a text to Ja'Marr, he decided against it seeing as the two of them weren't exactly still at odds after finding out the two of you were together, but still weren't talking to each other as much as they were before. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though he was going behind your back, but he was desperate at this point. At least at the end of the day, he wasn't completely ignoring him like he did for two weeks after he found out.

So, here goes.

Joe- Do you know what's wrong with your sister?

The bubble kept appearing and disappearing and Joe wondered if he was even going to get a response.

Uno- Aren't you her boyfriend? Why are you asking me?

Joe- Because she hasn't talked to me in two days and how long are you going to be mad at me about that?

Uno- I’m staying mad at you until I get my apology for going behind my back. Same goes for her.

Joe- But… You literally WANTED me to date her and said it YOURSELF. So what is this fake outrage for?

Uno- I will throw a weight at your big headed ass the next time we're in the gym

Joe- So, now you see how stupid this is?

Uno- And that's why you can't throw

Joe- TAKE IT BACK. TAKE THAT SHIT BACK RIGHT NOW.

Uno- No. Maybe later. But we can call a truce.

Joe- Not calling shit until you take it back

Uno- Fine. You can throw and no, I don't know what's wrong with her because she's still mad at me about how I reacted when she was in the hospital. I mean, I get it. Her safety is more important than knowing you two were swapping spit. She's barely talked to me over winter break.

Joe- Because I have no idea what I did and she won't tell me

Uno- Bribe her with food. Works every time.

Joe- I guess I'll just call her for the millionth time

Uno- No, go to her apartment and bust down the door

Joe- Uh, no. I'll probably have to pay for that

Uno- You know what I mean. Let me know how it goes and meet me at the gym tomorrow morning. Better yet, I'll come to your apartment so we can go together.

Joe- If your sister doesn't kill me and bury me on the football field first

As soon as Joe put his phone on the couch next to him, he heard a knock at the door and was confused about who it could be. Once he opened it, he was met with the sight of his girlfriend staring at him.

“Hi.”

“Surprised to see you. I guess you suddenly remembered that you had a boyfriend.” Joe said as you sighed.

“I deserve that.” You replied as Joe then moved to the side to let you in.

Once you walked in and sat on the couch, Joe sat next to you before taking your hand in his.

“Are you ready to talk now? Not expecting that you would actually come over here since I thought you were still mad at me for a reason that I have yet to figure out.” Joe asked as he pulled you closer to him on the couch.

You weren't expecting that he actually would since you still felt that he was probably mad at you for being mad at him and ignoring him. Might as well get everything out in the open since there was no use in hiding it any longer.

“Can't fix it if you don't tell me, princess.”

“I… I don't like all the attention that other girls give you. Especially when I'm standing right there and they act like I'm not even there. I guess I didn't really notice how much it happened until we got together. Obviously when we were just friends, it didn't bother me, but it seems like it's happening more often.” You quietly said and he slowly nodded his head before he answered you.

“So, instead of telling me this, you decide to get mad, get an attitude with me and refuse to talk to me about how you're feeling? Is that right? When this could have been over and done with?”

“I'm trying to be better about that. I know I shouldn't have waited, but I needed to get my thoughts together first.” You replied without looking at him.

Joe took a deep sigh before replying, and turning your head so that you would be facing him.

“You never had a problem telling me about how you felt when we were just friends. So what's the difference now? There shouldn't be one. If something bothers you, you need to tell me. I can do a lot of things, but reading your mind isn't one of them.”

“I know. I guess I just keep everything in since it stems from Trevor always telling me that I was too dramatic or making something out of nothing.”

“How many times do we have to go over this? I am not him and will never be him. You mean a lot to me and I don’t know how many more ways that I can show you that. He was an asshole and still is. He should never even be a topic of conversation between us. You're with me, not him.”

“I know, it's just hard to break out of that mentality.”

“Now back to the reason why you were upset. Let me ask you this, am I in a relationship with you or with them?”

“Me.”

“Okay, so what's the problem? I can be nice and speak to them but at the end of the day, you're the only one I want. You got it?”

“Got it.”

“I don't know if this has to do with you being younger than me or it's just that you're used to being treated like shit, but we can't keep doing this. You tell me the minute something upsets you and I'll do my best to make it better.”

“I've only had one boyfriend other than you so I guess I thought the way he was treating me at one point was acceptable but everyone around me including you was trying to tell me the opposite.” You confessed and he nodded showing you that he was in agreement.

“And… I don't like talking about my feelings and I never have. I tend to keep things inside and I know that it’s not good.”

“Because it leads to things like this.” Joe added and you gave him a slow nod as you started to play with your bracelet that had been a Christmas gift from him before he pulled you onto his lap and placed several kisses on your cheek, making you smile.

“Now, are we good? I only have eyes for you and don't you ever forget it.”

“We're good. I guess I just needed reassurance.”

“And you know how much I love you because you literally hear me say it 50 million times a day. So, me paying attention to another girl who isn't you? Not happening. But deep down, I think you know that already.”

“You're right.”

“Now that we got that out of the way, can we finally have our burritos for dinner? The dinner that we were supposed to have two days ago?”

“Yes, and I want extra guacamole on the side. Oh and a mango jarritos.” You replied as Joe reached over you to get his phone in order to order it. But, you slowly took it from him and he looked at you confused.

“What's the problem? Don't you want me to order it? I don't want it to get too late and they end up closing.”

“I definitely want food, but I'm hungry for something else right now.” You told him and he immediately smirked.

“Let me order this first because I will not be dealing with your hungry ass if they end up closing before we're finished. Then I'm about to have a whole nother problem.”

“You are literally so dramatic. It's Saturday and they don't close until 2 am.”

“Hmm, lies you tell because I believe that you were talking about yourself. And not until 2 am? That means absolutely nothing once I get your clothes off.”

“Because you demand that I cum 85 times.”

“I… are you complaining? Because I can stop at one.”

“No! I'm not complaining!”

“Sounds like you were so we can just sit here for the rest of the night.” Joe told you as he shrugged and you turned up your nose at him.

“You can sit here. I'll be in your bedroom using my vibrator that I left over here.”

“I know that can't feel better than me being inside you.”

“Why does it matter? You wanted to sit here all night. So move so I can get up and go do that.”

“I'm not moving. I haven’t gotten to hold you for two days.”

“Fine.” Was all you said before slowly pulling down your leggings and throwing them to the floor while you placed two fingers in your mouth and slowly began to suck on them.

Before you could slide your fingers inside of you, Joe slid his in instead making you gasp.

“Such a spoiled little brat.” He whispered in your ear as he used his free hand to quickly reach underneath your shirt to undo your bra.

Once it was undone, you took the bottom of your shirt to pull it above your head and threw it to the side before moving your bra that had already been falling down your shoulders to the left of you leaving you completely bare in your boyfriend's lap.

You could feel his erection growing underneath you as he added another finger while increasing his pace and slowly began placing kisses all along your neck.

“Shiiiit…..” You quietly breathed out.

“Mm, my baby is so wet for me. Look at all that.” Joe whispered as his hand was literally saturated in your juices ever since they started running down his hand and was now all over his sweatpants. He pulled it out so that you would be able to see it and brought it up to his mouth before tasting it and slowly slid his fingers back in making another moan escape from your lips.

“Fuck, babe.”

“Spread your legs wider.”

You did as you were told and Joe was able to go deeper. He slowly started to rub your clit with his other hand and you knew that you weren't going to last much longer.

“That's it princess. You about to cum all over my hand? I know for a fact that your vibrator doesn't make you feel as good as I do.”

At this point, you were about to slide off of the couch because of the puddle that you had created underneath of you and your only saving grace was Joe having a tight hold on you.

“Baby…..”

You could barely get the word out before you squirted all over his hand as he was once again placing kisses along your neck as you rode out your high.

“Good girl, that's it, princess. Ride it out.”

When your breathing had finally slowed, you looked down to see the mess that you had made as Joe was licking your juices off his fingers and soon held them up to your mouth for you to do the same.

“See how good you taste?”

Nodding your head, you let out a small laugh as you looked down once more.

“I think I owe you new sweatpants.”

It was seven in the morning when Ja'Marr had knocked on Joe's apartment door and when he didn't get an answer, he decided to call him.

When the call went unanswered, he rolled his eyes and decided to try the doorknob anyway to see if it was open.

Lucky for him, it was and he quickly slipped into the apartment.

“He has got to stop leaving his door unlocked.”

Ja'Marr then walked to Joe's bedroom and quickly opened the door.

“Joe! Wake ya ass… AHHHH. WHAT THE HELL!?”

He was met with the sight of Joe literally throwing himself over you so that your body would be shielded from your brother's eyes.

“Ja’Marr!”

“I knocked but you didn't answer! Your apartment was unlocked. We said that we were going to the gym!” He said as he was now covering his eyes with his hands.

“Well can you get out so we can get dressed!?” You asked as Joe was quietly laughing as his head was on your shoulder.

“I see the two of you have made up and yes I'll be out here. Yall need to send me a schedule or something so that this doesn't happen again. Ew.”

“Don't sit on the couch!” Joe yelled as Ja'Marr turned around to walk away and he did a double take.

“What the? Oh, yall some nasty ass fuckers. What the hell did yall do to the couch!? Never mind. I do NOT want to know.”

“Ja’Marr! Leave!”

“Trust Me, I'm going. You two have scarred me for life. All I saw was Joe's pale ass diving in order to cover you. A sight I NEVER want to see again.”

“JA’MARR!” Both you and Joe yelled at the same time in order to keep him from rambling.

“I'm going! I'm going!”

Once the door was fully closed, Joe picked his head up to look at you before reaching down to kiss you with a laugh escaping from him after.

“I forgot that I told him to come over this morning. Sorry, baby. That was my fault.”

“Glad to see that the two of you made up though. But go ahead and go with him. I'll be waiting for you when you get back.”

“Just like this, right?” He asked as he reached down to take one of your nipples in his mouth and slowly began sucking on it.

“Just like this, promise. So we can finish what we started.”

“Good, because I have a request when I come back.”

“And what's that?”

“Reverse cowgirl.”

“Hmm, I think I can do that for you.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow smut #joe burrow lsu #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow imagine #joey burrow #joe shiesty #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #Spotify

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horny-marbles · 1 month ago

Note

Pssst hey.

https://www.tumblr.com/000000-000000-000000/781799507611516928/guys-genuine-question-am-i-gonna-get-crucified?source=share

Get in the kitchen and cook PRETTY PLEASE. PLEASE IM ON MY KNEES. I NEED HIM PLEASE

🥺🥺🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

BOOM SHAKALAKAAAAAAA YES GAAAAWDDDD I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE LMFAO anon we're like this 🤞🏻🤞🏻 also this may or may not be tailored for @erenasia hehe

Marlboro Silver (Aged!Brian Thomas/Hoodie x F!Reader)

CW: age difference (you're way over legal age of consent lol don't play with me), smoking kink, sweaty car sex, a liiittle degradation, oral (m receiving)

summary: your dad makes a new best bud while you're away for college and oh no!! he's hot!!

wordcount 6.1k

The screen door creaks like it always has, frame sticky with humidity and a decade too old. The smell hits you first—cut grass, sweat baked into wood, citronella candles, beer. Alabama summer: swampy, slow, smothering.

Your duffel bag hits the floorboards with a soft thud. You toe off your shoes and stretch, your shirt lifting slightly from your waistband, sticking damply to your spine.

You’re back from college for the summer, trading late-night library runs and overpriced coffee for your dad’s small-town rituals. It’s quiet here. Too quiet. You’ve only been gone a year, but the house already feels smaller. Slower. Like time dried out and cracked along the edges.

“Hey, sweetheart!” your dad calls from the living room, voice muffled over the rumble of TV sports and the pop of a beer tab. “We’re watchin’ the game. C’mere and say hey.”

We?

You drag your hand through your hair and step into the living room with a smile that’s more polite than genuine—and then you see him.

He’s sitting on the far end of the couch like he’s always belonged there, one leg stretched out, the other bent, thick forearm draped over his knee. Big, rough hands. Broad shoulders. Faded tee clinging a little too nicely to a chest that wasn’t built in a gym but came from years of lifting real things—wood, engines, furniture, probably your dad once or twice just for the hell of it.

Brown shaggy hair, barely hiding the signs of time. Strong jaw with stubble, peppered with some sneaky shiny grays. That grin—sharp, easy, lazy, tooth gap right in the middle like the universe left a little crack in him just so you’d have a place to fall through.

“You must be the college girl,” he says, and god, that voice—low, warm, a Southern lilt curling around the vowels like syrup. “Heard a whole lot about you.”

You don’t realize you’re staring until your dad chuckles. “This here’s Brian. Met him out fishin’—man knows his way around a bass boat and a six-pack.”

“Pleasure,” you manage, stepping forward to shake his hand. His grip is firm, slow to let go.

He looks you over, but not like a creep—no, it’s measured, casual, like he’s taking stock. You can tell he’s done it before. You can also tell he knows exactly what he's doing when he smiles at you like that. Friendly, but just the wrong side of innocent.

You sit down in the armchair, knees together, posture neat. Not because your dad would notice anything—but because he might.

Brian leans back, drinks his beer, and keeps his eyes on the game. But you feel it—that pull, the weight of his attention even when it's not on you. The game plays on. Your dad yells at the screen. Brian laughs. And you cross your legs a little slower than necessary. Just in case he’s watching.

You'd forgotten how fast the house gets small in the summer. How the heat clings to the drywall and your clothes, how time sticks between your shoulder blades. You wake late, wander barefoot, drink from cold glasses that fog up the moment they leave the fridge. You scroll too much. You sleep too little. You try to pretend it’s just summer being summer.

But it's not. Because now Brian is always fucking here now.

You don't even bother to ask why. You don’t need to. It’s just one of those things that happens when middle-aged men form inexplicable friendships: they latch on like blood brothers and suddenly they’re inseparable. Watching games. Fixing things. Drinking in comfortable silence like they’ve known each other for decades instead of months. Your dad talks like Brian’s some lost cousin of yours now. “He’s comin’ by later,” “Brian brought over some tools,” “Brian helped me tune up the truck.”

And every time he’s here, you’re a mess.

At first, it’s harmless. He's just around. Helps your dad set up the new grill, shows him something on the TV, brings over a cooler full of beer like he lives down the street. The two of them laugh about some ex-girlfriend they never liked. Apparently he’s been through a divorce. Or two.

The first time you walk through the kitchen in shorts, Brian doesn't say a word. But you feel it—that flick of his eyes, the shift in his posture, the slow stretch of that killer smile when your dad says something stupid and he half-laughs behind his beer. That little tooth gap flashing at you like an invitation.

You don't even like older guys. You swear you don't.

But he’s solid. He’s got arms like scaffolding and a voice like molasses and something low and dangerous simmering under all that Southern charm. You start lingering a little more—maybe just for a second or two longer than you need to. Just enough to catch his eye. Just enough to hope he looks.

It’s the way he fucking sits, thighs spread, arms resting over his knees, fingers tapping absently against cold glass. It’s the way he says your name when your dad tells you to grab something from the kitchen. The way he smiles at you—slow, a little crooked, like it’s a secret just between you.

You feel it deep. Not even in your stomach. No, directly in your cunt. Hot and ridiculous. Humiliating. Your thighs press together like it’s involuntary—because sometimes it is.

One afternoon, you're passing through the hallway while they talk about car maintenance—or football or fishing or whatever man noise they've settled on that day—and you hear your dad laugh through the open door.

“You don’t ever get tired of goin’ home to an empty house, man?”

Brian huffs a low, amused breath. “Nah... Ain't nothin' better than getting home to the sound of silence.”

It’s said so casually—barely a pause between sentences. But you feel it. A twitch, a prickle at the base of your spine. You don’t stop walking, don’t let yourself even slow down, but your eyes flick up for a second as you pass. He’s already looking at you.

No smile this time. Just a look. Knowing. Amused. Maybe even a little curious.

You don’t sleep that night. You lay on top of the covers, flushed and sweating, thighs aching, fingers between your legs and his voice thick in your ears like a broken record.

It gets worse the first time you see him smoking.

You’re just getting home from a walk—just seeing what changed since you moved away for college—and there he is. Leaning against the porch railing, half in shadow, lighting up like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Burning Marlboro between two thick fingers, zippo clink-snap, that slow inhale, head tipped back.

You’ve never found smoking hot. You’ve told people that. Sworn up and down that it’s gross.

But god, the way he does it—lazy, practiced, like he’s got nowhere to be and all the time in the world to ruin you—it sparks something in your stomach. You stand there for half a second too long, staring at the curve of his mouth around the filter, the wrinkle at the bridge of his nose when he exhales slow through it.

“Hey, college girl,” he drawls, voice rougher than usual, like smoke got tangled in it.

You don’t even remember what you say back.

The next time he comes over, you barely make it through lunch.

Your dad's out back spraying down the patio. Brian’s in the kitchen, elbow leaning on the counter while he drinks something cold from a sweating glass. You wander in with the pretense of rinsing out a mug, keeping it casual. Normal. But when he glances up, he gives you that smile again—a lazy one, like he’s not even trying to kill you.

“You settlin’ back in okay?” he asks, voice a slow drawl that makes your knees itch. “Gotta be different from campus life.”

You nod, too quickly. “It’s quieter, for sure.”

He grins. “Bet you don’t miss the tests, though.”

“No,” you say, and then, before you can stop yourself: “I might miss the distractions, though.”

It hangs there. Quiet. Heavy.

His gaze drops—barely. Not subtle. Not obscene either. Just enough to make your breath stutter.

He lifts his glass again, watching you over the rim as he drinks.

“How old are you now?” he asks, voice casual, like he’s asking what major you picked instead of checking if he’s stepping over a line.

You smile. “Old enough to know better.”

And fuck, you almost regret saying it the moment it leaves your mouth. Almost. But you hold the look. You don’t back down.

He smiles—slower this time. Like he’s tucking that little answer away somewhere warm and private.

From the backyard, the hissing of the hose cuts off. Your dad’s coming back.

You rinse your mug, heart pounding, thighs pressed tight together, mouth too dry.

Brian leans back against the counter, watching you like he’s just figuring out what kind of game you’re playing.

You think that’s the end of it. You really do. Just a casual little moment that you’ll squirrel away for later, up in your room, alone with your fingers. You’re still humming with it, flustered and hot under the skin, about to make your quiet escape upstairs, when—

“Hey, Brian,” your dad calls from the open back door. “You mind running to the store? I forgot to pick up the meat for the grill.”

Brian groans, real dramatic. “Sir, yes sir,” he drawls, mock-saluting with two fingers, beer still in hand. Your dad snorts and waves him off.

Your mouth moves before your brain does. “I’ll come too.”

Both men look over at you. You lean casually against the wall like you haven’t just been thinking about Brian’s hands around your throat for the past fifteen minutes.

“I wanna see if anything’s changed around town,” you add, breezy, like you haven't been doing just that for the past week since being back. “I’ve been gone a while. Might grab something for myself.”

Your dad shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Brian tips his head in a loose nod, mouth twitching like he knows.

You follow him out to the truck—a beat-up rusty red thing that rumbles low when he starts it. He moves around it like he’s been driving it for decades. Like he is the truck. And when you climb into the passenger seat and close the door, you realize two things:

One—it smells like him.

Not just sweat and smoke, but something sharp and masculine underneath, like old cologne that should be called "Panty Soaker", and pine sap and a trace of grease. Something faintly woodsy, faintly wrong. The kind of scent that shouldn't make your cunt throb—but does anyway. You squirm a little, heart doing stupid things in your chest.

And two—you forgot your seatbelt.

You reach for it, fumbling with the buckle, and then Brian’s hand is there instead. Steady. Calm. Deadly.

“Here,” he murmurs, already leaning over.

You freeze. His chest brushes your arm, warm through his t-shirt. His breath ghosts past your jaw. His hand comes across your lap, slow and certain, and the back of it—rough, work-callused—presses up against your tit as he clicks the buckle into place.

The touch is brief. Accidental. Totally innocuous.

But your nipple still goes hard under the fabric, and you think he feels it—because his eyes flick to yours for just a second before he pulls back.

“Safety first,” he says, amused.

You force out a breathy laugh. “Right. Of course.”

The drive should be short. You’ve done this run a thousand times. But today, it feels like forever. The engine hums low, the summer heat warping the world outside, and you keep shifting in your seat, thighs pressed tight, because fuck. The windows are down but it’s not enough.

At the first red light, he lights a cigarette, and you almost lose your mind.

It’s slow—like everything else he does. One hand on the wheel, the other flicking his lighter, cig perched lazy between two fingers. He draws it in, deep and idle, and your eyes follow the movement like it’s choreographed. Like he’s doing it just for you.

You hate the smell, the diseases that come with it. But this is sex in motion. This is your legs twitching, breath skipping, hands digging into the hem of your shorts like they might save you from yourself.

Brian glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You alright over there, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

You nod, too quickly. “Yeah. Just… warm.”

He blows smoke out the window, lips curled. “Yeah. Summer here’ll do that.”

You press your thighs together harder.

He says nothing else, just drives—with that one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on his thigh, cigarette dangling, ash drifting, windows down and the wind tugging at the collar of his shirt. You sneak a glance when you think he’s not looking—at his jaw, the stubble there, the vein in his forearm flexing when he turns the wheel. At his mouth, parted slightly around the filter.

He knows. You know he knows. It’s in the smirk that threatens every time you look away too fast. In the silence that stretches, thicker and heavier with each passing second.

You’re already wet by the time the store comes into view. The same sad little building it’s always been—weather-worn siding, a rusted-out sign, flickering neon in the window that hasn’t changed since you were in middle school.

The parking lot’s quiet when he pulls in—just a few scattered cars and the heavy buzz of cicadas droning from the trees beyond. The truck rumbles low, rocking gently as he throws it into park.

He stretches his arms overhead, shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his lower stomach, the dark trail of hair disappearing into his jeans. The motherfucker.

“Be right back,” he mutters, tapping the dash with two fingers. “Don’t run off.”

Like you could.

The second the door closes, the heat inside the cab spikes tenfold. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath the whole time—which, you might have with the way you're panting now.

It’s not even a minute before your hand’s pressing between your thighs, subtle but needy, trying to ease the pulse that’s been throbbing since he touched your seatbelt. You can’t stop shifting, thighs rubbing for any relief, underwear clinging to your cunt like a second skin. It does nothing. Not when your brain’s replaying the brush of his fingers against your nipple in crisp, HD detail, and his smell is all around you.

You don’t even remember what the hell you said you needed from the store. That thought left your body the moment Brian leaned over you like he owned the air you breathed.

He’s quick. Barely five minutes pass before he comes back, two plastic bags swinging from one hand. There’s a heat to him when he opens the door, a fresh blast of sun and sweat and man, and you scramble to sit like you weren’t just about to hump the seat.

“Only had ribs left,” he grunts, tossing the bags onto your lap. “Hope your dad ain’t picky.”

You practically snatch them. “I’ll hold ‘em.”

The weight of the meat gives you something to hide behind. A barrier. A fucking prop to mask the frantic, near-desperate squirm of your thighs as he settles back in beside you.

Brian raises a brow, but doesn’t comment.

The truck growls to life again, and you start the drive back. Or rather—he does. You’re just trying to stay sane. It’s quiet for a few minutes, windows rolled partway down, the wind kissing your skin just enough to sting where you’re hot and aching.

Then, he fucking says it.

"Y'know," he begins, slow and easy, flicking ash out the window with one hand on the wheel, "you keep rubbin' your legs together like that, baby, you're gonna start a fire."

Your whole body locks up—then melts. The heat between your legs pulses, sharp and greedy, and your head turns fast enough to give you whiplash.

You want to die. Or melt. Or crawl into his lap and grind until the ache goes away. Anything but this excruciating limbo.

Your voice comes out smaller than you intend—but still laced with heat. “Well. You’re the one who lit the match.”

Silence.

Brian turns his head just enough to cut you a look.

That look. Eyes dragging over your face, down your chest, lingering on the way your thighs twitch under the grocery bags.

The corner of his mouth lifts. Not a smile. A threat.

“Girl,” he says, warning low, “I’m twice your damn age.”

“Not quite,” you murmur.

“Your daddy’d skin me alive.”

“Not if he doesn't find out.”

It rings in the truck. The kind of pause that leaves you exposed and vibrating with nerves, unsure if you’ve crossed a line or stepped straight into a fire you can’t put out.

You almost laugh. You can’t believe yourself. Can’t believe him. Can’t believe this is real and not some dirty late-night fantasy you cooked up during finals week.

Another beat of silence. Then he exhales sharply through his nose. Something like a laugh, something like a curse. A hand comes up, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shit.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

Just swerves onto a side road. A forgotten little access road behind an abandoned building, tucked into the trees, the kind of place teenagers go to smoke weed or fuck in secret. Gravel crunches under the tires as he pulls around to the back of the building and slides the truck into the shade.

He puts it in park. Then leans back, crosses his arms, and lets out one of those low, rough-throated dad-sighs. The kind that comes from somewhere deep in the chest, worn and exasperated and loaded.

You stay still. Breathing hard. The ribs are heavy in your lap, but not heavy enough to weigh down the full-body ache that’s curling low and hot in your belly.

He doesn’t look at you. He just waits like he’s giving you the floor. Like he’s giving you a choice.

And you take your pick real quick.

You move. Real slow. Real careful. Like you’re trying not to spook a wild animal. Your hands slide the bag of ribs off your lap, set it gently on the dashboard. It thuds against the plastic, soft and weighted—nothing compared to the pounding of your heart in your ears, in your throat, in your fucking clit.

Brian still hasn’t looked at you. But he hasn’t stopped you either.

You shift closer. Inching. Crawling into his space like a heat-seeking missile. The cab’s not big, and the heat in it is oppressive, stifling. You can smell him again—dust, pine, skin, man. Every molecule is sticking to you, soaking in through your pores like gasoline.

And then, finally, finally, he turns. Meets you halfway. Leans in so slow your breath catches on your tongue, your mouth already parting in anticipation. His hand comes up, not to stop you, but to brush his knuckles along your jaw—just once, feather-light.

And his voice, when it hits you, is a wrecking ball in the chest.

“That thirsty, huh?” he murmurs, lips brushing yours but not giving in. “Big enough of a slut to crawl into some grown-ass man’s lap just ‘cause he smiled at you?”

Your whole body shivers. Your clit throbs. Your thighs tighten like a vice. You can't even breathe, let alone speak.

Because before you can answer, Brian takes your mouth. Devours it. The kiss is messy. Instant. Tongue and teeth and breath and heat. He groans low into your mouth, not soft, not sweet—hungry, like he’s tasting something so sweet it chokes in his throat. But he’s not sloppy, not needy. You’re the one chasing his tongue, you’re the one moaning, melting, clawing at his chest with shaking hands.

He’s calm and controlled. Because this isn't his first time making some wide-eyed needy thing lose their mind in the front seat of a truck.

His hand stays on your jaw, firm now, fingers threading into your hair as he angles your head, deepens the kiss like he owns your mouth—and you let him. Beg him. Your hips squirm without permission, and that’s when his other hand moves, right up your chest.

Fingers find your tits through your shirt and he pinches one of your nipples, lazy and practiced. Like he’s barely thinking about it. Like he knows what it’ll do to you and doesn’t need to try.

You fucking whimper. Whimper.

And that smug, amused breath of laughter he huffs into your mouth makes you want to cry and cum at the same time.

“Oh, sugar,” he coos mockingly, slow and smoky between kisses and laughter, “look at you. You’re gonna make a mess in my seat, huh?”

Your hand scrambles down to his lap without thinking. Palm pressed hard against his crotch, finding the thick line of his cock through his jeans and gripping tight. Messy. Desperate. You rock into him with your wrist, just enough friction to make your thighs quake.

He laughs again. That deep, warm, drawl of a laugh, fond and filthy and just the right kind of mean.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes half-lidded and wild with heat. “Desperate, huh? Like I ain’t even gotta touch you and you’ll cum on the spot.”

You want to argue. Say something smart. Sassy. Instead, your hips jerk again and he just grins.

“Go on then,” he drawls, tapping two fingers against the denim over his thigh like he’s giving you a fucking command. “Show me how wet, baby. Maybe I’ll think about lettin’ you ride it.”

Your throat goes dry. Your panties are ruined.

You move fast, too fast, and he chuckles low when your knee bangs the glove compartment. But you’re already slipping a hand down the front of your shorts, past the waistband of your panties—drenched.

Fingers slide right in. No resistance. You gasp, legs twitching, the obscene squelch echoing in the tight cab, and Brian groans.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, watching you like you’re something obscene. “You finger yourself that fast all the time or is it just ‘cause you want my cock?”

You moan. Shaky, humiliated, needy.

“‘Course it is,” he answers for you, reaching over, taking your wrist. Pulls your hand out and shoves two of your fingers in his mouth. Sucks them with that slow swirl of his tongue like he’s tasting dessert. Like he likes it.

And then, before you can breathe, his own hand is in your shorts. Thick, rough fingers, way bigger than yours, pushing inside you like they belong there. The stretch makes your eyes roll, and he’s so lazy with it it's bordering on disrespectful. Slow pumps. No mercy. No buildup. Just fucking you with that knuckle-deep pressure that makes your thighs snap shut around his wrist.

“Oh my god—”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your jaw, voice a low rumble. “That’s it. So fuckin’ tight. You ain’t had a real man in you, huh? Been lettin’ some soft lil’ college boy rub your clit and call it sex?”

You’re soaked. Soaked. Your thighs are clenched, hips rocking against the seat, trying to get friction from fucking air while two thick fingers drag along the top wall of your cunt with this casual rhythm that wrecks you.

Squish, squelch, squick—so fucking loud it fills the cab, slick coating his fingers and seeping through the denim of your shorts. He pushes them further down with his knuckles, thumb brushing your clit every now and then—just enough to make your legs twitch.

You’re panting.

He snorts. “That all it takes? Two fingers and some sweet-talkin’? Fuck, you're a mess.”

Then—just to prove it—he picks up the pace. Fucking you deeper, harder, and you clamp a hand over your mouth but it’s too late. That high, messy sob rips out anyway. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and you cum like a fucking earthquake. Loud. Sudden. Shaking. So fast it’s almost pathetic. Almost. Brian thinks it’s adorable.

It hits so hard your hips jump off the seat, and he just laughs. Not cruel—just amused. Pleased.

“Shit,” he grins, dragging his fingers out slow, soaked in you. He holds them up, watches a string of slick stretch between them like a web. “You really are a fuckin' slut.”

You whimper, but you’re already unbuckling his jeans. You can’t help it. You need him in your mouth. He shifts just enough, pulls his cock out—flushed and thicker than you had time to imagine. Your mouth waters instantly.

“C’mon,” he mutters, tone lazy like he’s asking you to pass the remote. “You gonna suck it or just stare?”

You don't even ease into it. Mouth stretching around the head, tongue dragging hot and slow along the underside. You spit, let it drip from your tongue to his shaft and stroke him with your fist, spreading it all messy, coating him, strings of spit breaking when you pull back to breathe.

Then you take him in again. Deeper. Sloppier. The tip of his cock bumps your soft palate and your throat flutters.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, head falling back against the seat. One hand finds your head—not pushing, just resting—while the other fishes in his shirt pocket for a cig. “This the shit you learn in college, baby?”

You moan around him. Spit gurgling. Drooling past your lips and down to your chest, soaking your shirt. It’s dripping onto the seat, pooling between his legs. Your nose is pressed to his pelvis, throat flexing around him, thighs pressing together when the clink of his lighter hits your ears.

“Get the balls too,” he murmurs, smoke hissing out around his words. “C’mon. You wanna be a good girl, don’t you?”

You dip lower, drool stringing down between your tits, and take one of his balls into your mouth, tongue swirling wet around the heat where drool pooled down where your hand wasn't quick enough to catch it. His breath stutters. You look up, barely able to see him through tears you couldn't stop, and the sight makes your whole body clench.

He looks like a fucking dream. Hair pushed back off his face, brow furrowed, cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth like he forgot it was there—ash curling long at the end, barely hanging on. His nostrils flare as he exhales smoke slow through his nose, cock heavy on your cheek, his hand keeping your head just close enough.

“Yeah?” he mutters, barely above a whisper. Smirking like he’s watching the goddamn sunrise. “You like that?” he rumbles, one hand dropping heavy to your hair. His fingers card through slow at first, gentle. But then they twist, and he’s guiding your mouth back on his cock with slow pulls and pushes, easing you into a rhythm that’s got your throat straining and your jaw burning.

You choke when he nudges deeper, and his hand tightens—not mean, just firm, controlling the pace like he’s shifting gears. He groans deep and rough—like thunder rolling in his chest—and you feel him swell on your tongue.

And just when you think he’s about to lose it, Brian tugs you back by the hair—slow, deliberate, like pulling you out of a dream. His cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, absolutely soaked. He leans forward, ashes his cigarette out the window, and gives your swollen lips a once-over. Spit strings between them and his shaft, connecting like glue, trailing across your chin and cheek as you pant for breath.

“C’mere.”

He reaches for the lever on the side of his seat and yanks it back—click-click-click-thunk—until he’s laid almost flat, pants shoved down, cock standing up and twitching against his stomach.

“Turn ‘round.”

You blink. Breathless.

“Ass to me, baby,” he says, patting his lap. “Wanna see what all that bouncin’ looks like. Hold the wheel if you need to.”

You’re already climbing. Clumsy, fevered, losing your clothes in a daze. Shorts shoved down, panties a lost cause. You face the dash, plant your hands on the steering wheel for balance, spreading yourself on your haunches above him, wide enough to hear an approving hum behind you.

The stretch is criminal once you sink down. Your cunt flutters around the thick push of him as he sinks in inch by inch, cock parting you wide and deep.

He groans. Hands gripping your hips. Head dropped back against the seat.

“Shit,” he grits out. “Tight as fuck. Feels like you're gonna break my dick.”

You’re already bouncing, rhythm messy and desperate, thighs trembling as you fuck yourself on his cock like it’s the only thing keeping you alive, steering wheel creaking in your grip, the whole cab rocking with every slap of your ass against his hips.

His hands slam down on your ass, spreading you, guiding you, thumbs digging in to see the way his cock disappears into your slick, clenching cunt, watching the helpless flutter around him every time you lift and drop. Slapping the curve and lifting you just enough to slam you back down.

“Shit,” you gasp, hair stuck to your cheeks, sweat dripping down your back. “Fuck—fuck, Brian—”

You look back, mouth open, eyes glazed. He’s watching you like you’re something divine. Smoke curls from his nose, half-lidded eyes fixed on the way your ass sways and ripples every time you slam down on him.

He takes one last drag, lip curled, then flicks the cigarette out the cracked window.

“Look at you,” he mutters, voice honeyed and thick with awe. “Look at this fuckin’ show. This what you wanted, baby?"

You whine, nodding frantically, rolling your hips harder—sloppier. It's so much better than your mind conjured up in the privacy of your room. The way he talks alone is enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, but the way he thrusts up to meet your movements, cock hitting so deep you feel it in your stomach, is enough to get you clenching again.

Brian lets go of one cheek and grabs a fistful of your hair instead, wrapping it around his wrist and yanking your head back, keeping your spine arched while you grind on him.

“C’mon, baby, ride this shit,” he grunts, low and ragged. “You gonna cum f'me again?”

You sob—that’s how close you are. And you do. It feels like something detonating in your pelvis—your walls clenching so hard it's a wonder they're not snapping his cock in half, thighs twitching, whole body shuddering with the force of it. You cry out, damn near screaming, chest heaving, tears spilling from your eyes as you writhe on his cock.

But he doesn’t let you stop.

“Uh-uh,” he growls, voice thick. “Keep movin’. You want me to cum too? Keep movin’, sweetheart.”

You do your best—riding through the aftershocks, overstimulated, breathless, using every last bit of strength you’ve got to keep bouncing, but you're barely keeping up with him chasing his own high, pounding up into you so hard it knocks you forward every time.

Brian groans—loud—his grip tightening. You feel him swell inside you, feel the twitch of his cock, the sharpness of his breath.

But right before he cums, he smacks your ass.

“Off. Get off it.”

You scramble forward, barely catching yourself on the steering wheel. Chest pressed against it, panting, trembling. You don’t even fully register what’s happening until you feel his cock slide out, slick and shiny with your cum, the cool air hitting your soaked pussy.

And then—his moan.

You look back, dazed, and see him fisting himself fast, cock flushed and soaked, abs flexing as he stares at your swollen cunt and the twitch of your thighs, ass arched up like an offering.

“Jesus fuck, baby—” he growls, and then he cums, thick ribbons of it painting up his stomach and down his hand, dripping off the hair on his belly.

He pants through it, watching your body shake as you stay bent over the wheel, your thighs glistening and your cunt fluttering with every little aftershock.

Silence.

Just the sound of your heavy breathing and the creak of the car riding out your desperate bounces.

You don’t move.

Neither does he.

And behind you, Brian finally lets out a hoarse laugh, low and breathless.

"Y'better pray your daddy ain't asking for a ride anytime soon, baby. Whole damn car smells like we fucked in every seat now."

The air inside the truck’s thick with sex and heat and smoke. The windows fogged up, your thighs still twitching, your cunt swollen and sticky and throbbing with every bump in the road since Brian pulled back into the main road.

You’re slouched in the passenger seat, half-dressed and still boneless, one leg propped up like you’re trying to breathe. Your shorts are around your thighs—inside-out, crusted with slick—and your fingers fumble uselessly at the button as he lights a cigarette with one hand and drives with the other.

“Fuck,” you whisper, dragging a shaking hand over your face. “Fuck.”

He glances over at you with a little laugh, smoke curling out his nose.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You shoot him a look, loose-limbed and dazed, then huff as you yank your shorts up high enough to cover your mess. The zipper’s stuck. Of course it is.

Brian pulls the cig from his mouth and holds it out to you without thinking, all casual.

You just blink at it, then scoff breathlessly. “I don’t smoke.”

He smirks around the cigarette as he puts it back between his lips. “Shit. Coulda fooled me,” he mutters around a grin. “You been eyein’ my smokes all damn day—I figured you just didn’t wanna light up in front o’ daddy.”

You snort. Almost choke on it. Bite back the urge to tell him you've been eyeing his mouth around the smokes instead.

The rest of the drive is quiet, save for the radio fuzz and the occasional drag from his cig. Your heartbeat’s finally slowing down by the time he pulls back into your driveway.

The engine cuts. The quiet is loud. The ribs had gotten warm in the bag and you’re walking a little funny, but he doesn’t say a word as he follows you to the front door—clearing his throat like he's trying to shake the taste of your slick off his tongue.

You swing the door open and step inside, trying to school your face into normal.

Your dad’s in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with a beer in hand, and he glances up when the door shuts behind you.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, eyes drifting lazily to the bag in your hand. Squints. “Ribs? Thought I said pork chops." He groans, loud and grating, running a hand over his face like this is the real inconvenience of the day.

And you stand there behind your dad, tugging the hem of your shirt down to hide the open zipper of your shorts—and your shame, mostly—and when you look up, you catch Brian's eye.

He winks at you real subtle. Quick. Easy. And you can feel your pulse spike in your cunt all over again.

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noctiva · 24 days ago

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Toby having a puppy crush on Brian’s gf, brain obs knows this and shows him a video of em fuckin like animals <3 a smug grin on his face as he holds his phone up, giving it a teasing shake:))

OUGHHHH i love your mind. I just wanna crawl into your brain, curl up and take a nap <3

so. in terms of like, possessiveness, Brian is a lot more chill than Toby is. Like obviously you’re still his girl, but whereas Toby would much rather die than think about anyone lusting over his partner - Brian gets a kick out of it. ESPECIALLY when it’s the socially awkward boyfailure that is Toby Rogers.

He’ll catch Toby staring, notice his eyes linger on you far too long than they should. And he could just let it go, but why would he? Toby’s already going pink in the face as his eyes sweep over your cleavage, why not bust his balls a little more?

“My girl’s lookin’ real nice today, ain’t she?” He’ll smirk, before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in nice and close. Watching the way Toby immediately tenses up and clears his throat, tugging at his collar not so nonchalantly. Brian would nose into your neck, lips curled into a sickly amused smile, before he’s dragging his lips up to your jawline and giving you a little nip. Direct eye contact with Toby all the while.

And the reaction is just too good. Hilarious even, the way Toby looks like he wants to crawl out of his own skin. So, he keeps doing it. Grabbing a handful of your ass right in front of him. Making sure you sit nowhere but his lap when you’re all hanging out, covering you in hickeys you can’t hide just to see how wide Toby’s eyes go upon the sight.

it’s too good. And there’s a deep satisfaction for Brian knowing that he’s got something someone else wants. That Toby can squirm and huff all he wants, but that’s not going to change anything. You’re his, and you’re staying his.

Eventually, he kicks it up a notch.

“Hey, Rogers. Look.” That’s all the warning Toby gets before Brian’s phone is shoved in his face, and it takes him a second to even realize what he’s looking at - blinking in confusion for a couple moments until his vision focused. And then- oh.

It’s you. You, gorgeous you. Sprawled out on your back, completely naked from the waist down, your little tank top pushed up over your pretty tits. Skin all flushed and pink, skin rippling with each borderline punishing thrust that was being dealt upon you.

Fingers curled into the bedsheets, your whole face crumpled in ecstasy as you whimper and cry and moan. Squirming like you don’t know if you’re trying to squirm away or get him deeper. The lens is shaky but he can see everything. How your chest heaves, how your nipples perk up, how the fat of your breasts bounces with each movement. How wet you are, how pretty your pussy is - just stretching out so nice around the cock that was bringing you to tears.

He can tell you’re tight. Fuck, he can see it. The walls of your cunt clinging onto the shaft like you never wanted to let it go.

He’s staring. Bad. Just silent and slack jawed. Trying to memorize every bit and piece of your body for jerk off material later.

“She’s a doll, isn’t she?” Brian’s letting out a cocky little laugh and shaking his phone like a taunt - lips stretched into a shiteating grin. “Wanna hear? She begs like a whore.”

Toby doesn’t even have time to think about answering before Brian’s clicking up the volume a couple notches, and - jesus christ.

Your moans sound like cotton candy. So sweet and soft. All watery as you blubber and sniffle, so overwhelmed as your mascara streaks your cheeks, and you’ve never looked lovelier.

And then-

“Brian- Bri- please-“ You beg through sobs, shoulders bowing as your back arches off the sheets. “Please- I wanna- Please let me cum-“

That’s enough. Toby’s letting out a grunt, shoving Brian away with the facade of being annoyed, but in reality he just can’t take it. His ears are burning, his chest feels tight, and he knows he’s hard. He felt his dick come to life the moment he laid eyes on your naked body. And he’d much rather die than have to hear what Brian had to say if he found that out.

“F-Fuck off, Brian.” And then he’s stalking away. (To his room. Where he’ll let that video replay behind his eyelids as he slips his hand beneath the waistband of his jeans.)

#sorry idk what came over me lol #I love you desperate loser toby <3 #noctiva yaps #toby rogers smut #brian thomas smut #hoodie smut #ticci toby smut

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intimidating-fettuccine · 5 months ago

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can I have Brian, Helen, and Toby (seperate please) nsfw with f!reader who wears Christmas lingerie in front of them? And call it their (Christmas’s gift)?

I'm sorry this is so late after Christmas, I did not mean to post this so late, but it did at the very least come out much longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy <3 Reader is AFAB and has female genitals, but no other gendered terms are used

Brian:

Poor, poor Brian, his heart can barely take it when you call him upstairs. His heart's already racing from running upstairs in excitement from your text stating you had another gift for him, and it feels like it'll beat right out of his chest once his eyes land on you, posed nice and pretty on his bed for him. His brain malfunctions and all he can do is stand there with his mouth hanging open, unsure of what he should do or say, his cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red. It takes you giggling at him to snap him out of his stupor, and you'll have to gesture for him to come over to you, and he does so quite timidly, perching on the edge of the bed. His hands are itching to touch you, and he can't help the way his own breath hitches when his hands roam over your barely clothed figure, the green and red lingerie complimenting you so well, and he wants to carve it into his memory forever. It's fully subconscious when he asks if he can record you in it, and he feels like a huge pervert once it hits him what he asked, but all you do is immediately smile and agree, so despite his reservations, he happily does so.

Grabbing his phone, he makes quick work of undressing himself, and he begins by just recording your body, posing you, and showing any angle he can of you in your lingerie. His hand caresses and squeezes down your body, working his way down to thumb over your clothed clit, cursing quietly at the noises you're making and how sexy you look. He wanted to record himself fucking you, but he can't resist anymore, and he quickly tosses his phone to the side, stripping you of the lingerie, sliding his fingers inside of you to give you a quick stretch, before he finally slides his cock inside of you as he holds you tightly. You're both quite worked up from the evening's events, and while he tries to go slow and take his time with you, it doesn't take much to have either of you reaching your peaks, collapsing together onto his bed. You'll both find out later his phone did in the end at least record the audio of your sex, both that round and the one after it, too, much to Brian's deep embarrassment. Despite said embarrassment, that video becomes the most replayed one on his phone, something you'll tease him about for quite a while.

Helen:

Well, well, well, what do we have here? When you texted Helen and asked him to come upstairs for his final gift he wasn't sure what you had planned, but he knew your mischievous mind had to have something nice sorted out for him, and he certainly wasn't let down. However, if you're gonna sit on his bed and smirk so confidently at him, posing as though you're teasing him, Helen's going to tease you back. What, you thought he'd unwrap his gift and indulge in you right away? You thought he'd go ahead and fuck you like you wanted him to? Oh, no, no sweetheart. He's gonna pull out his art supplies and really commemorate this before he gives you what you want. He pulls over a chair and has you pose for him in specific ways, first drawing and sketching several different positions. By the end of that your muscles are tired and strained (he doesn't let you drop from your positions at all, after all), but he's not done with you yet, pulling out his easel, and painting you all the same, in specific poses. It's been over an hour of you doing this for him, your cheeks warm, your body aching, and it's not until he sees tears blooming in your eyes that he finally chuckles and gives you what you want.

He strips off all of his own clothes, but he makes you keep the lingerie on, as it's his gift to enjoy, after all. He simply tugs your panties to the side and gets to work fucking you immediately, considering you're already dripping wet from his eyes watching you all that time. He fucks you hard and rough and gives you no breaks, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you as he pounds into you, and you can hardly catch your breath from the force of his thrusts, but you can handle it, can't you? He's just repaying you for the lovely gift you've given him, and he's not going anywhere, considering he's going to make you cum as many times as he drew and painted you, and then maybe a few more times just to be thorough. By the time he's finished with you, you won't be able to walk without his help, and that thought alone has him pistoning into you even faster, his chest heaving and cock throbbing as he does his best to make both of you feel as good as physically possible. It won't be until you're begging him to stop, saying it's too much, that he finally gives in.

Toby:

Toby finds himself confused staring down at the message you'd sent him about a final, special surprise, so there's not really much rush in his steps as he makes his way up to his room, humming quietly to himself as he goes. However, once he opens his door to ask you what else you have planned, he wishes he would've had more pep in his step. His mouth is hanging open, and it takes him a moment of realization that he should close his door, and he slides into his room quickly, slamming the door shut a bit harder than he meant to. He shuffles over to you pretty quickly, his eyes roaming over your body, his hands following soon after. He wants to say something, anything, but he's so flustered he can't bring himself to say anything, it's your soft touch on his cheeks that gets him to look at your face and take a deep breath. When he's calm he eventually asks what this is all about, and when you answer that you just wanted to give him a special surprise he can't stop the small noise that bubbles out of his throat as he looks over you one more time.

He licks his lips, his fingers tracing the outline of your lingerie, and he can't help but thank you, several shy times at that, and you have to be the one to tell him that it's alright, and he can enjoy you to his heart's content. He's quick to press his lips to yours in eager kisses, his fingers gently working off your lingerie, and then his own clothes when you gently push him away so he can remember to breathe. He's eager to make you feel good in repayment for the surprise, his fingers thrusting into you eagerly, his mouth working overtime on your clit, and it's not until you beg him after your second orgasm to fuck you that he remembers that he wants to feel good with you too. With all of his stamina, Toby doesn't feel the need to go slow once he's finally inside of you, his hips eagerly thrusting into you. Toby's already so close, so worked up from everything, but he holds himself back, working your clit while he fucks you in an effort to finish with you, and when he feels that familiar squeezing around his cock it pushes him over the edge as he collapses on top of you, tiredly mumbling against you that this is the best Christmas ever.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years ago

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Like no one is watching

summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?

a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧

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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.

The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.

The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.

"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.

"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.

"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.

"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?

"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.

"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.

"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.

A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.

But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.

Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...

"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.

"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.

"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."

You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.

"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.

#I found myself on the dark side eh...#vince dunn imagine #vince dunn x reader #vince dunn #vince dunn x you #nhl x reader #ngl imagine #ngl x you #hockey imagine

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icetruckprincess · 2 months ago

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blood & devotion | part one

description: when your cousin, tony tucci, survives a brutal encounter with the ice truck killer, you find yourself haunted by the trauma and intrigued by the charming doctor assigned to his care. but beneath the hospital lights and stolen glances is something darker. in the chaos of grief and guilt, you search for something to hold onto... unaware that you're falling into something more dangerous than you imagined.

chapter cw: brian moser x f!reader, brian as rudy, mature themes, implied violence, canon type violence, slowburn, nsfw series

wc: 2.6k

part one | part two | part three

the fluorescent lights of miami central hospital buzzed faintly overhead as you leaned against the wall outside of your cousin’s hospital room. the antiseptic of the hospital clung to the back of your throat, a sterile bitterness that mingled poorly with the coffee in your hands.

inside the room besides you, tony tucci lay unconscious, pale, and missing the lower half of his leg and hand. kidnapped and tortured by the ice truck killer. the infamous killer hadn’t managed to finish the job, and it was a miracle, so the doctors said. you weren't so sure.

you brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and exhaled slowly. your fingers wrapped tightly around the paper cup, its warmth long gone. your eyes searched the hallway, mind racing on what to even say to tony when he awoke. this wasn't the kind of trauma someone walked away from unchanged. you rubbed your thumb over the paper rim, trying to soothe your nerves.

that’s when you saw him.

tall, broad-shouldered, and slightly unruly dark curls framed a strong face with a cleft chin. he was beautiful. his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, his white coat open. his green eyes landed on you like he had been expecting you. he approached with a smile that looked practiced till perfection.

“you must be family,” he said, voice warm—a little too warm in the cold setting.

you blinked, momentarily thrown off. “uhm yeah, i’m his cousin."

he extended his hand towards you, and flashed a warm smile. “dr. cooper, but call me rudy. i’ve been working on fitting the prosthetics for your cousin’s case.”

you took his hand, firm and gentle. you nodded in response.

he paused; he was waiting for something.

“oh- it’s..." you said as you gave him your name.

he said your name slowly, with interest.

“... nice to meet you.” another smile, and he finally let go of your hand. your pulse skipped a bit.

he put his hand back in his coat pocket and looked at you, “i know it's a difficult time, “ he said gently, "but tony is lucky. most people don't survive encounters like this.”

you pressed your head against the wall, “so i've heard.” you turned to look inside the room to see the unconscious figure of your cousin in bed.

you don't know if it was because of the highly emotional situation you were in, or that he was helping tony, but you confided in him-“he looks so different. what happened...it's so fucked."

rudy’s voice softened, "whoever did this knew how to keep him alive while hurting him. that kind of precision is rare. it’s disturbing, but he’s strong. he survived."

you looked up sharply. his tone was clinical, but there was something just underneath it. fascination? he caught your expression and quickly masked his.

“forgive me,” he said with a sheepish smile. “that probably sounded awful, doctor talk. i'm around this kind of thing so often, sometimes i forget how it comes across.”

you shook your head lightly, “no it’s fine. youre right. the ice truck killer or whoever the fuck did this, is disturbing.”

you brow furrowed just thinking about it. rudy’s eyes narrowed as if deep with thoughts.

your eyes flicked back to rudy. “thank you for taking care of him, or his case.”

“of course.”

there was a pause—a spark as his gaze lingered a moment too long on you, like he had just come to a realization. you tilted your head, lips curving.

“what? do i have something on my face?"

he smiled back at you, “no, … you just remind me of someone.”

you both stood there for another beat too long. the silence felt charged. rudy cleared his throat.

“if you have any questions or need updates, i’ll be around.” and then he turned to take his leave.

“thank you, uh rudy.” you replied and turned to enter the room, pausing to catch another glimpse at him. there was something calculated about him, you thought, but also magnetic. you didn't know whether to be wary or ignore the thought.

but what you didn't know was that rudy, better know as brian and the ice truck killer to the miami metro, had just chosen you as his next victim.

the next time you saw rudy, it was strange and yet perfect.

you returned to the hospital the next day, during the evening as it was the only time you could afford after work. you brought your sketchpad underneath your arm. tony was still unconscious by the time you got there, but the nurses encouraged you to sit and speak with him—it might help, they said. so you stayed, whispered things about your childhood, from what you could even remember yourself, and tried hard to not think about the brutal reality of what he had survived.

it was dusk when you stepped out into the hospital hallway to stretch your legs and clear your mind.

and there he was again.

rudy leaned against the reception counter of the floor you were on, a pen in his fingers slowly spinning. his coat was unbuttoned again, and his expression softened as soon as he noticed you.

“you’re back again,” he said playfully with a smile.

you smirked, “of course, he’s like a brother to me.”

he nodded and then paused, looking down at your hands. “going for a coffee refill?”

you looked down tracking his gaze, to the paper cup in your hands. you didn't even notice it was empty yourself.

before you could even respond, he replied, “i have a coffee machine in my office that's much better than the cardboard they serve down at the cafe. want to come?”

you hesitated. rudy was undoubtedly attractive and charming, but he was also your cousin’s doctor. and a stranger. not that you weren't allowed to engage in friendly conversation, but it felt like something more. like the way his gaze made you feel like he could see right through you. at a time like this, it felt weird to be excited.

but you found yourself nodding anyway. you couldn't help it, his charm, confidence and interest in you, enticed you. and the thought of some good coffee.

as you walked down the hallway, both of your foot steps echoed quietly. you caught glimpses of his profile through the reflective glass. his jaw was sharp, eyes focused, and stride was effortless. the comfortable silence was interrupted by his voice,

“so you like to draw?” he asked like he's known you for years.

“w-what?” how did he know that you-

“i saw you drawing in the room earlier this afternoon.” he seemed to be able to read your mind immediately and provide a response to ease you. but did that mean he had been watching you?

“yeah, it’s just something i do in my downtime.” he paused– as if he could sense that you were closed off towards him.

“snooping are you?” you teased a bit to lay off your suspicions.

he half smiled, “was passing by and i was curious. still am.” he continued on and you followed.

there was a pause in the air. not heavy but thoughtful. you both approached his office door, “here we are."

he held the door for you, allowing you in first. as you stepped into the office, your eyes swept the sterile space. the room was neat, professional and impersonal. framed degrees lined the walls in perfect symmetry, besides the anatomical charts of limbs and joints. he led you further in, the front door whispering shut between you two. his office was cooler in both temperature and mood.

“snooping, are you?” he mimicked you playfully, as you were eyeing his space. you smiled, embarrassed as he caught you.

“you caught me” you replied, and he chuckled lightly back.

“and over here, is the amazing machine that produces the best coffee you can get anywhere around here” rudy said softly, moving towards a smaller corner where an espresso machine sat. his hand brushed past the small side of your back as he walked behind you, light and deliberate.

you froze, for a second, as shivers ran through you.

“how do you take it?” he asked, with what seemed like genuine interest. it's like he wanted to know everything about you.

“uh, however you make it. i'm not picky” you replied, not wanting to inconvenience. he began to make the coffee, and you couldn't help but look around his office again. prosthetic limbs propped on shelves and stands. you felt out of place, as if any misstep would disrupt the balance that he carefully maintained in there.

he finished making the warm cup and handed it to you. you took a cup. the sip was smooth, delicious. he made it just how you like.

“not bad,” you murmured.

"i aim to please" he charmed back at you.

he leaned against the counter, arms crossed and watched you over the rim of your cup as you sipped more. his expression was unreadable to you—calm, maybe curious, but once again something you couldn't pin down. he had no trouble reading you, but when it came to him, you were lost.

you decided to indulge in his previous inquiry, “i usually draw moments… not faces but gestures. fragments. hands, sometimes. people who look like they're about to leave or just arrived.”

he watched you as you spoke, intently. you felt a bit stupid for sharing that, not meaning for it to be that vulnerable.

“that says a lot about how you see the world,” he replied, uncrossing his arms.

you looked away, “what—that im moody and vague?” you teased yourself.

he shook his head and took a step forward, “no. observant, intimate.” another step. your pulse quickened. “maybe a little lonely too,” he joked.

you chuckled, but he was right once again, able to see right through.

feeling his eyes all over you, you changed the subject to him, “what about you? you work with people's bodies all day. ever feel like you're just, building parts of them instead of really seeing who they are?”

you noticed how he paused, almost taking a step away from you, something unreadable flickering behind his calm.

“everyday.” another silence between you two, as if you were finally able to get into his head.

he changed the subject back to you, “if you ever wanted to show me something you've drawn, i’d like that”.

you raised an eyebrow, lip twitching into a smile, you couldn't help yourself. he was saying all the right things.

something passed between you both, not loud and obvious, but charged. like a current flickering beneath the surface waiting for either of you to touch the water.

your fingers slipped through your hair in a nervous gesture, “sorry. i don't usually do this, talk like this, with strangers…"

his eyebrow raised.

“.. i mean well, doctors. especially a doctor working my cousin's case.” you were realizing the situation as you spoke. here you were laughing and smiling with tony’s doctor in his office, drinking coffee like it's casual, and even flirting—well could you call it that? all while your cousin lay unconscious down the hall. you couldn't help but feel guilty.

his warm voice intruded your inner dilemma.

"well i don't usually flirt in the middle of work hours.”

your head shot up. the guilt you felt moments ago washed away.

“so this is flirting?” you questioned, mainly to confirm. he was flirting with you? attracted to you? sure you thought it for second but considering the situation, isn't this some sort of violation?

he kept his gaze with you, his eyes not wavering. calm. direct.

“without question.” there was something about the way he said it—assured but not cocky. like he didn't need to convince you. like he already knew that you felt it too.

your cheeks warmed before you could stop them. you bit your lip, half to ground yourself, half to keep smiling too much. his gaze lingered just long enough on you to draw you in but you didn't step back. this was dangerous.

rudy pushed away from the counter, crossing the short distance between you. you almost didn't hear him move at first. you stood up straight, surprised and he leaned in besides you, almost touching but reaching past your shoulders to his desk. his arm brushed near your hair as he picked up his mug.

it wasn’t the touch that affected you; it was height.

the sudden startling awareness of how much taller he was. his body was so present. you swallowed hard. he looked down at you, “pardon me” he said drawing back his original place.

you didn't say anything in return. you couldn't. you broke eye contact and tried to focus on anything else, the table, the neat row of tools, but you could feel him looking at you.

“you free friday?”

you blinked, caught off guard again.

“what?” you asked, in shock.

“dinner, friday, somewhere real, no lab coats, or coffee machines involved.”

your heart had a small, unexplainable jolt.

still in disbelief you replied, “i thought doctors were supposed to have a terrible work-life balance.” you joked trying to change the subject and you couldn't believe this was happening.

“i make time when it matters.” he said as if it was the simplest thing. your pulse was loud in your ears. was this part of a game? charged moments and careful comments? or was this real?

he didn't elaborate, or fill the silence. he just waited and watched you with that same unreliable calm. you felt a flicker of nerves in your stomach, because you wanted to say yes. and that felt risker more than anything else.

“okay, friday.”

he nodded, no dramatic reaction, but something shifted in his expression. almost like a faint quiet satisfaction. he gave you his number and said he’d pick you up. and just like that you had a date with rudy cooper.

the sliding glass doors opened, as the hot heavy air of miami hit you as you walked out of the hospital at ungodly hours. the scent of car exhaust and something blooming nearby—jasmine, maybe.

you barely thought about it, as you walked in an uneven rhythm, legs moving on autopilot. you could still feel him behind you. not physically, not anymore. but the echo of him lingered.

rudy cooper, his calm voice and measured smile, the subtle way he leaned past you without touching you, and still managed to set you on fire.

it had been so casual, “you free friday?”, like he wasn't turning something over with it. like it hadn't changed the way the air felt between you two.

you pulled your keys from your bag and stared at the reflection of yourself on the car window. you didn't date doctors or, well, anyone. definitely not your cousin's doctor. and yet here you were blushing over said handsome doctor. entertaining the idea of dressing up for him while your cousin was fighting to stay alive.

the guilt crept in slowly and sharp. it wasn't that rudy wasn't kind, hell he was in charge of helping your cousin. and he was equally interested in you. but that was part of the problem.

he made you feel alive in way that you haven't in days. but maybe that's why it felt so wrong. you leaned against your car, letting the heat of metal bleed through your shirt. your breath was shallow.

you didn't get to run off in some detached fantasy while tony was there. you're supposed to be present and with family, and yet...the way he looked at you. really looked at you. your body answered before your mind could catch up.

you hated yourself for liking it. saying yes. for wondering what you would wear. you closed your eyes and let the guilt sit with you. let it settle like dust. and then quietly, you just breathed. let the guilty thoughts wash away, just as he had done for you before.

you hadn't walked away from tony, or abandoned him. you were just searching for the feeling of being human again in all this chaos. to want something even if it's messy, or not perfect timing. and rudy gave you that chance.

you opened your eyes and the world hadn’t shifted, but something in your head did. you slid into the driver's seat, and shut the door gently behind you. friday would come. and maybe it would be complicated. but maybe you deserved to feel something again too. maybe you deserved to have something in spite of all this chaos, that would be in your control.

or so you thought.

a/n: need more brian fics on here, down so bad i had to write a series myself. my first work, i hope u enjoy hehe.

#brian moser x you #brian moser #brian moser x reader #rudy cooper #rudy cooper x you #dexter #dexter tv #ice truck killer #brian moser fic #icetruckprincessfics #blood and devotion fic

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bqu1nns · 4 months ago

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this is for @gumbxz because i saw one of their posts saying how they wanted a fanfic with brian quinn paired with the song 'everybody here wants you' by jeff buckley which i thought was. Genius. yesss. i wrote this in like an hour so. its nothing special but i hope you like it bae. i also remembered that i haven't written anything since january so i am a bit rusty and i just came back from a week of working hard on one of my finals. so. bare with me babes. love u all!! and please fill by inbox with requests again, i will be working on my johnny knoxville requests tomorrow, which will hopefully be posted this weekend.

everybody here wants you! ♡ brian q.

part 1! 2288 words ! all fluff

you had come here with friends, but the moment you saw him in the bar, it seemed like everything shifted, narrowing until all that remained was brian. he was leaning against the counter, fingers curled around a sweating glass of whiskey, eyes half-lidded as he listened to something his friend was saying. but then—like some cosmic pull, almost destiny—he looked up right at you. and you, for all your careful walls and well-practiced indifference, felt something unspool inside your chest.

the neon glow of the bar lights flickered over his profile, casting warm amber hues across his beautiful face. then, the smirk. slow and lazy, like he knew that you noticed it too. you blinked, willing yourself to look away, but it was already too late.

he lifted his drink slightly, a silent acknowledgment to you. your fingers tightened. you weren't the type to fall into this—meeting some random guy at a bar, scratch that, you guys haven't even talked, and the possibility of taking him home. but there was something about him, something about the way he looked at you like he knew exactly how this night could go.

“i was starting to think you were just gonna keep staring at me all night,” he said as he moved towards you. you met his eyes, “and here i thought you enjoyed the attention?” you retorted.

his smirk deepened, his ring tapping against the warm glass. “oh, i do.” he took a slow sip, watching you over the rim. “especially when it's from girls i meet at the bar.”

you scoffed. “that a line you use often?” he huffed a small laugh, shaking his head as he set his drink down. “i don't know what you mean by lines.”

you narrowed your eyes slightly. “right. Because you just happen to say things like that on instinct.” he gave a half-shrug, tilting his finger against the bar. “what can i say? im just better at conversation than half the guys here.”

“and yet, somehow, that isn't very convincing.” his smile twitched wider as you said that. “you saying you don’t believe me?”

“i’m saying you have a look about you,” you mused, tilting your head as if you were actually about to consider it. “like you know how to get exactly what you want when you want it.” his gaze flicked over you, slow and assessing before settling back on your eyes. “and what if i do? what if i know what i want? what’s so bad about that?”

you didn't answer right away, you just held his gaze, let the moment settle, let the weight of something unspoken between the two of you simmer. because the thing was—you knew that look. knew the way people must've gravitated towards him, how he probably had conversations like this all the time, he knew how to get his way like the back of his hand, and that made you unsure, but intrigued, to say the least.

but that wasn’t what this was, was it? there was a pull here, something warmer, slower, than what you have ever experienced with guys. you let out a quiet breath, shaking your head slightly. “then i think you’re going to have a hard time with me” you said just loud enough for him to hear over the sounds of the bar.

brian hummed, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his glass as he considered that. “ya think so?”

“oh, i know so.”

he exhaled a laugh through his nose, something rich and warm, and then—without breaking his eyes from you—slid his drink aside and leaned in just a fraction closer. close enough that you could catch the scent of whiskey, the faintest hint of something that you could gather from this stranger that just made him him.

“guess i’ll have to stick around to see, then,” he commented. you could’ve laughed it off. could have turned away, minutes ago, and let this be nothing more than a passing exchange in a dimly lit bar. you could have been one of the hundreds of people he could’ve chosen to flirt with tonight

but you didn't. instead, you just tilted your head, and let the smallest smile ghost the corner of your lips.

“i guess you will.” and now he was looking at you like he wasn't so sure what to do with that. not in a way that suggested hesitation—no, there wasn't anything hesitant about the way brian looked at you. it was more like he was settling into the moment, waiting to see where this could go without forcing it. you then wondered if he was always like this, if his charm was always this effortless, or if it was the whiskey speaking, or both. it could be both, you thought to yourself.

“you don't seem like someone who just hangs around,” you mused. brian quirked a brow. “no?” you shook your head. “you strike me as the type to lose interest quickly, to not call the morning after. if something isn't fun and loose, isn't exciting, you move on.”

his lips pressed together like he was fighting back a smirk like you had caught onto something. but then, after a moment, he tilted his head slightly. “you think i’m here because i’m looking for excitement?”

“well, isn't that the point of the bar, friend?” you said. brian exhaled a small chuckle, running his tongue over his teeth in thought. he didn’t answer right away–just let this gaze sweep over you to what felt like the 10th time tonight. you didn't mind it though.

“maybe,” he admitted, voice softer now. he raised his hands in defense, “not in the way you might think though.” you arched a brow, “no?”

he shook his head, then leaned in just enough for his voice to dip a little lower, the sound curling warm in your chest. “if i wanted something to come to me easily, i wouldn't be standing here still talking to you. i would've gone through maybe 3 girls by now,” he said. he was lying, but he just couldn't resist.

you weren't naive. you knew how this game worked. there was always something just on the edge of moments like this—something that could either dissolve just as quickly as it formed or stretch out, slow and lingering, until you didn't know how you got there until you did just now.

but brian didn't rush. he just waited, watching you, letting the weight of his words settle.

damn him and his stupid look on his face.

if all he wanted was something fleeting, he would have moved on by now. and, quite frankly, you would have done the same.

“you gonna make me work for it?” he said as his fingers idly tapped against the bar top. your lips curled at the edges, “what fun would it be if i didn't make you work for it?” that finally pulled a full laugh from him, low and warm, something that sank underneath your skin in a way you weren't quite ready to admit. he shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“i like you,” he said, voice easy and sure. it was such a simple thing, but it settled in your chest, deeper than it should have. you exhaled slowly, “then i guess you should stick around and see where this goes.”

“yeah, i guess i should,” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours. he was looking at you like he had all the time in the world like he was unbothered by the noise surrounding the two of you, the way people passed and laughed and spilled their conversations into the sweaty air.

like you were the only thing here in this whole damn place worth paying attention to.

“you always do this?” you asked, keeping your voice light despite the way your pulse thrummed loudly at your throat. he raised a brow, chuckling. “do what?”

“this whole thing.” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “finding someone across a bar, making them feel like they're the only one in the room.” his smile didn't falter, but there was something behind it that was unreadable. “is that how i make you feel?”

you inhaled softly, yes.

because he truly did.

yes, he did.

and the worst part was that you weren't sure he was even trying. you licked your pink lips, looking away briefly as if breaking eye contact could lessen the tension threading through you like a burning fire. “you didn't answer my question.” you said.

brian shook his head slightly. “if i did this all the time, i wouldn't still be here, now would i?” the answer was simple. uncomplicated.

he was still here. and that meant something.

“you ever notice how people always want things that they can't have” you blinked at the sudden shift i conversation. “i mean—” he exhaled, he seemed like he didn't want to admit this. “you ever feel like the more someone pulls away, the more people want them?”

you thought about it. about how some people were like stars—how they seemed untouchable and a thing of wonder in a crowd. meant to be admired but never held. then you thought about brian. the way people watched him when they passed by you two. the way they probably only wanted him in pieces, just enough to say they had him but never enough to know him. never really loved him. and you thought to yourself—maybe he was tired of that.

maybe he was asking if you were going to be the same. you held his gaze, searching for whatever was underneath him, that ease, the way he carried himself when he was with you. “i think people mistake distance for mystery,” you said finally. “they think if they chase something hard enough, it’ll let them in.”

his expression didn't change, “and what about you” he asked. “what about me?”

he tilted his head, mimicking the way you do it each time. “are you the type to chase?”

no, you weren't. you werent the type to beg for someones attention, to run after something fleeting just for the thrill of it. that’s what you say to yourself when you want some peace for the night. and you weren't sure if he expected you to.

so, you just exhaled, slow and measured, before shaking your head. “no,” you simply said. his lips twitched like that was the answer he’d been waiting for. “good,” he murmured, almost relieved.

brian’s fingers tapped idly against his glass, his gaze still fixed on you—not in the way most people stared when they wanted something, all hunger, and urgency. no, this was something else. something slower, something patient.

he was taking his sweet time with you, and he enjoyed that for what felt like the first time he’d ever experienced something like this. he knew he had to keep you.

you wet your lips, glancing down at his hand, the way his fingers curled against the wood of the bar. “why is that a good thing, hmm?” you asked, voice softer now, more curious than challenging.

je huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly, but there was no humor in it. “because i don’t think I’d like it if you did.”

your brows furrowed, not quite understanding him. “if you were the type to chase,” he clarified, his face catching the dim light. “then this wouldn't feel real.” the words hit you and you understood. like brian said, people always wanted things they couldn't have. but brian—maybe he was tired of being a thing to be wanted, something to be reached for but never held.

and you–maybe you didn't want to be another person who tried to take pieces of him just because you had the power to. the bar had faded into nothing by now, just into hums of conversations and distant music. you let out a small breath, “and what do you want this to feel like?” brian considered this. “i don't know just yet,” he admitted. “but i know i don't want it to feel like something normal and casual if that makes sense” he smiled softly.

he was right—this didn't feel like every other night.

you hadn't planned on this. on him. on being drawn to someone in a way that felt like a slow dance. he leaned in, catching the scent of whiskey and something else on him, maybe pine, like late nights and something easy. “i was serious when i said i liked you,” he said. “not in a way people say it just to say it. i mean, i like you.”

it wasn't a line. it wasn't a trick either. it was just the plain and simple truth at this point.

and for some reason, you believed him.

you didn't pull away and instead,

you closed the space between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt more like a confession than anything you could have said out loud. it wasn't rushed; it was sweet and slow, almost reverent, as if neither of you wanted to break away, afraid it would slip away like sand through your fingers. his hand found its place on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, his touch tentative but sure. you felt the warmth of him, the scent of him—you found it.

whiskey, pine, and candles ??? he smelt good, that's all that mattered.

he pulled away first, breathless but smiling. “that felt right.” he chuckled as he touched your face. you nodded, still processing the way your heart was running at impossible speeds, the way your world had changed just enough to make everything feel like it had meaning.

“yeah, it really did.”

⊹₊⟡⋆ thank u so much for reading and i hope u liked !!!

#impractical jokers #brian quinn #brian quinn x reader #sal vulcano #the tenderloins #james murray #joe gatto #brian quinn x female reader #brian quinn x female oc #impractical jokers fanfiction #aughhhh dilf

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writtenbyan-aries · 2 years ago

Text

Summary: Sam and reader's relationship is fairly new. They've been keeping it a secret from everyone, even Colby. But, it soon gets unveiled to him by some tricksters that spook Sam and reader during their investigation.

Warnings: some SMUT18+, strong language, scary and creepy things done to reader by ghosts such as touching and being spoken to, oral (f), fingering, hair pulling, comedic fluff with a slight dash of smut

Word count: 6.5k | not edited

Disclaimer: I made everything up for this story, straight off the top of my head. Enjoy!

"What's up guys." Colby says loudly with a smile, "It's Sam and Colby. But you already knew that." He laughs and you shake your head.

"Today, we have a very special guest. You probably have seen her in a few of our other videos." Sam holds his hand out towards you, "Y/n."

"Hey guys!" You wave, "I'm very. Very excited for this one today and I'll let the guys explain why."

Sam gives you a smile and looks back at the camera, "Today we're investigating the Seebold Manor." Sam looks at Colby.

"The Seebold Manor is like no other place we've explored because today, we won't just be dealing with normal ghosts and or demons.."

"We are going to be.. drum roll please." Sam starts to pat his knees, you and Colby following along, "What we were told are trickster spirits."

"Y/n. Why don't you tell them what that means." Colby motions and Sam watches you as you take a deep breath, "So. We will be dealing with trickster spirits, as Sam said. These spirits are basically what their name says. They like to play tricks, basically moving stuff around. Tapping your shoulder, generally non-harmful stuff."

"I was told by the owner, that one person- or.." Sam looks at Colby and holds up two fingers, "Was it two people that were tripped on the steps?"

Colby presses his fingers to his chin and thinks for a moment, "I think Brian said two."

You glance over at Sam as he continues talking, and all you can think about is how no one knows that you're dating, and how good Sam looks.

"Y/n."

You blink, breaking your stare from Sam and quickly cover it up, "I saw something standing over there."

Sam smirks slightly, covering his lips with his hand to hide it, knowing that you were definitely looking at him, "Where?"

You point, "Over by that one cement pillar thingy."

"Oh shit." Colby shakes his head, "They're probably thinking, this group of nimwits will be easy to mess with."

You all laugh and you nod, "You know, I was honestly thinking that, too." Sam looks at you, "I third that. We're in for it tonight."

"We are going to go ahead and get set up.." Sam points to the camera, "See you guys in a minute."

As you make your way towards the house, Sam's hand gently brushes against yours and you smile at him. You head snaps towards Colby as he turns around and you cross your arms.

You wanted to tell Colby, you really did. But you like the idea of sneaking around right now. The adrenaline from possibly getting caught.

You and Sam both knew that Colby would only be mad because you didn't tell him right away, and you were fine with that.

This is something that only you and Sam knew about, and you wanted to milk it just a little while longer.

"Alright. What shall we do first?" Colby claps his hands together, "I definitely think we should just kind of sit stuff out, see if we can catch it being moved?"

"That's a really good idea. I brought a third camera, just in case we'd need it. We can set it up in the living room area to watch our other thing." Sam looks around, clicking the camera on, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" You and Colby say in unison, looking to where Sam is looking.

It's quiet for a second before you speak up, "What did you hear?"

"Like a rubber dodge ball being bounced. Like the echo of it, you know what I mean?" Sam whispers as he looks to you and Colby. He snaps his head back, "There it was again."

You shake your head, "I didn't hear any of that. Did you?" You point to Colby and he shakes his head, "I didn't hear that, but when we were walking down the steps it felt like someone walked past me, you know that feeling?"

You and Sam nod, "I thought someone else was with us, like there was five when we came back down stairs." Sam motions behind him, "Like they were following close.”

You shake, "oh, I just got goosebumps."

Sam gives you a sympathetic look, wanting to comfort you but not wanting to give it away just yet, "I had them the second we walked in, actually."

"Alright. I'll go get the other camera so we can set that up first." Colby points to the door, "Do you guys have anything on you that you could set out in the meantime?"

You take your backpack off your shoulders and unzip it, "I have my water bottle and for some reason, an extra pair of socks."

They laugh and Sam turns the camera off before he takes off his backpack, "I have a water bottle too, and I have a few of our stickers we could set out."

Colby nods, "I'll grab something from the car. I'll be right back." As soon as he leaves, Sam pulls you in by the waist, "We should just tell him. I can't stand playing this, we're only friends game.."

You sigh, laying your hands on his chest, "I know. It's hard keeping my friendly distance from you."

Sam presses his lips to your forehead, "At any time you get scared you can come to me." Sam looks down at you and you nod, "I know. I will.. but.." you bite your lip, smirking, "I had an idea."

"Uh oh." He smirks and tilts his head, "Let's hear it."

"While we were doing the tour.." you glance to the door, making sure Colby didn't come back yet, "I've kept a mental note about rooms."

"Rooms?" Sam raises a brow, "Tell me more."

"If we.. ya know.. split up.. we could meet up in one of the said rooms.." you smirk, "Do I need to keep going?"

Sam shakes his head, cupping your cheeks, "You're an adventurous little devil aren't you?"

You shrug, "Figured it could add to the exhilaration."

"I don't have any doubts about that." Sam gives you a quick kiss and steps away as the door opens and Colby walks through, "So I grabbed one of my extra sweatshirts, I figured we could fold it a certain way. See if it gets moved or something?" Colby walks over, "it's the only thing I could find."

"That should work. I'm sure they'll move stuff that's already here too. So we just need to make a mental note-" you stop and look down the hall, "Clapping. Like a quick-" you clap your hands together and look at them.

Sam turns the camera on again, "Y/n just said she heard clapping.. I didn't.. did you?" He points the camera to Colby and he tilts his head, "I thought I hea-" Colby gasps, eyes going wide as he points, "That."

You nod, "Exactly that."

Sam points the camera down the hallway, "y/n. Clap twice."

You clap your hands together, twice like Sam asked. You wait a few moments and the clapping sound happens back.

"No fucking way." Sam shakes his head.

"Holy fuck." Colby pokes your arm, "Do it three times this time."

You take a deep breath, clapping your hands three times slowly, and sure enough, three claps come back, "Oh my god." You shiver, "That is fucking wild."

"Let's do the REM pod. We can set it at the entrance of the living room." Sam sighs, "this is going to be good."

He cuts the camera and you walk down the hall, jumping as you hear a loud clap almost next to your head, "Fuck." You laugh, "Someone clapped again.. but it was like right next to my head this time."

"Yeah I definitely heard that one." Colby takes the pod and turns it on, setting it down on the ground, "Okay." He looks at the camera once Sam gets it rolling, "someone clapped right next to y/n's head as we were walking down here. So that means something is here."

You all back away from the pod and Sam hand the camera to Colby before speaking, "So as you all know, and if you don't, this is what is called a REM pod. It lights up red when something gets close to it, just like this." He walks up, lifting his shoe to get it to light up red, "Has to be pretty close for it to light up so.."

Sam clears his throat, "My name is Sam, this is Colby and y/n. We're here to do an investigation, get to know this place a little bit better. We mean absolutely no harm to you or anyone else that might be here."

"We heard you clapping for us, so if you're here with us right now, can you make that little red light flash just like my friend Sam did?" Colby asks and keeps the camera on the pod, waiting for it to flash.

And it does.

"Great. Thank you." Colby blows air, "If this is one of the members from the Seebold family, can you make it light up again?"

After a few moments of glancing at each other and waiting, it lights up red.

As you're standing there, listening to them ask more questions, something brushes your leg and you jump, "Shit." You look around, "Something brushed or rubbed up against my leg."

Colby turns the flash on the camera, moving it around, "There's nothing here. Where was it at?"

You point to your calf, "It honestly felt like a cat, you know when they rub up against your leg."

"Maybe they had a cat?" Sam suggests, "I don't know if they had any animals or not but I'm sure it's possible."

You shrug and the pod lights up, "Can you make that light up again if you had a cat."

Instant red.

"Well. I guess they had a cat." You laugh and sigh, "That was so weird."

"There's that sound again." Sam turns, "The rubber ball bouncing." He holds his hand out to keep you and Colby from talking, "Can you do that again so my fri-"

You raise your eyebrows, "I hear it."

Colby nods, "Yeah. I hear that, too. That's fucking.." he laughs, "Oh shit."

"Thank you." Sam looks at you and Colby with a nervous smile, "So they like to let us know they're here."

The pod lights up red and you laugh, "We appreciate you being so active with us." It lights up again and you look at Sam and Colby, "They must like us or something."

"Alright, so should we let that here with the camera on and go to the other rooms?" Sam glances at you and you look down to hide your smile.

Colby nods, "We can set out stuff out all over. Put the camera up right there on that table." Colby walks over to a table and sets the extra camera down, "Does this work?"

"Yeah, that's perfect, yes." Sam starts setting stuff out and you fold Colby's sweatshirt in a specific way.

Hood tucked under and the sleeves in the hoodie pocket. You tie the strings into a bow, "That look specific enough?"

Colby walks over and chuckles, "that's better than what I was going to do."

You laugh, "Colby. I've seen how you fold and I think it's a good thing that I did this." He scoffs and sighs, "Yeah. You're right."

You gasp, jumping towards him as you feel the same feeling on your leg, "That fucking ghost cat. I swear to god."

"I'll have to ask Brian tomorrow if they had a cat for sure. But I'm going to just assume that with that lighting up red." Sam motions to the pod, "Means they did."

"Alright guys." Colby says into the camera, "So from the looks of it.." he starts laughing, "Y/n is going to be tormented by this ghost cat for the rest of the night."

"Glad you find humor is my time of horror." You laugh and move over next to Sam, "We should set something at the top of the steps. See if anything knocks it down or something."

Sam nods, "That's a good idea, too."

You look around the room, "Did you turn that camera on, Colby?" Colby nods, "Yeah, I turned it-" he looks t the camera, "It's off. I swear I turned it on."

"I'm pretty sure you did. I watched you." Sam hands you the camera and walks over to Colby, "The light was on for sure."

"Y/n."

"What?" You look up at Sam and Colby and they look at you confused. You laugh slightly, "Did one of you not just say my name?"

They shake their heads and Sam points, "I was messing with this camera and Colby was talking to me about it."

"That's so weird. It sounded like.. actually it sounded like Colby's voice saying my name." You step closer to them and look behind you, "I know they aren't going to hurt us, but I can't help but feel anxious."

"Are you okay?" Sam asks and you nod, "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You laugh slightly, "Kinda comical if you really think about it."

Sam laughs and looks at Colby, "Alright. Well if this doesn't stay on, we'll just have to make sure we record with this one where everything is placed."

Colby nods, "Alright. Yeah. I hope this stays o-" he whips his head around and lays a hand on his cheek, "Something just kissed me." He looks at you and Sam with wide eyes and he laughs, "I swear to god, it felt like lips on my cheek."

Sam turns the camera around on him and sighs, "I just want to say that If Colby doesn't leave with us, it's because he's staying with his new ghost girlfriend."

You cover your lips to hide your laughter and Sam looks at Colby and full out laughs, "I'm sorry. I had to, brother."

Colby rolls his eyes, "Let's just.." he laughs slightly, "Get out of here."

Sam pans the camera over everything that's set out before you leave the living area.

"I think we should go to, what did he say, Malcom's room?" Sam looks over at you and Colby, "Maybe we can find out how the fire that burned the original down."

"I brought the EMF meter, so we can ask yes or no questions." Colby digs into his bag and pulls it out, "I think his room was the third one on the left upstairs."

As you make your way down the hallway, Sam trips but catches himself, "Alright." He laughs slightly, "Colby did you trip me?"

"As much as I thought about it.. no, I didn't trip you." Colby smirks and looks around, "y/n. Did you trip Sam?"

"No." You shake your head and look at Sam, "Are you okay?"

He nods, "Yeah, no I'm good." He looks around, "That was like, right in front of you." He point to you and you raise your brows, "you know, as we were walking, it did feel like we walked through a cold bubble."

All three of you snap your heads behind you as you all hear what sounds like people running.

"I didn't like that." You step towards Sam and grab his arm, "That was close."

Sam holds onto your sweatshirt sleeve, "Yeah, that was almost like they were running towards us."

"Don't say that, Sam. Fuck. Now they'll come running at us." Colby laughs nervously and shakes his head, "Let's just.. get upstairs."

All three of you now walk at a quicker pace, still looking behind you and laughing when you do it at the same time.

"Careful on these steps." Sam tells you as he walks in front of you. You nod, holding onto the banister as you follow him up.

"Right here is where it felt like someone was with us during the tour." Colby motions to the stairs, "But it was when we were coming down."

"Wait.." you tap Sam and point, "Do you hear that? It sounds like the REM pod going off, like constantly."

They're silent for a few moments before looking at each other, "I bet you they're moving our stuff." Colby shakes his head, "Wanna go check it out now or?"

"Let's give it a little bit yet. We can go up here first." Sam looks up the steps and continues walking, "can you imagine tumbling down these steps though?"

You laugh slightly, "I feel like they're wide enough you wouldn't really get hurt if you tuck and rolled." You look at Colby and he shakes his head, "I'm not doing that."

"I want going to-"

He cuts you off, "I know you, y/n. I'm not tucking and rolling down these steps." He laughs and looks at the stairs, "Although.. it would be fun."

Sam laughs, "Let me know how you make out with that."

You reach the top of the stairs, looking both ways before continuing straight on, "Oh. Here." You point to the door that has Malcom in cursive letters.

Colby places his hand on the knob, twisting slowly as he pushes the door open, "Malcom, we're here to ask you a few questions."

You follow Colby in, Sam behind you.

"Hi Malcom." You look around and Sam walks in, "Hey Malcom, so we brought up our little device that allows you to light up green for yes and red for no as answers to our questions."

Colby gets it out, turning it on, "Alright. Who wants to go first?" You look between them and raise your hand, "I will."

You watch as Colby places the device on the stand and you look around, "Malcom.. are you here with us?"

A few minutes goes by, nothing.

"Is anyone here with us?" Sam asks and the reader lights up green, "Is this Malcom?"

The reader lights up red.

"Are you one of Malcom's brothers?" Colby asks and the reader lights up green. Colby looks up, "Hmm. Okay. What were his brother's names?"

"Miller and-" the reader lighting up green cuts you off, "Is this Miller?" It lights up green again and you motion, "It's Miller."

Sam laughs slightly and smirks as Colby shakes his head, "Thanks. I had no idea." He laughs and crosses his arms, "Miller, can you tell us if the fire that burned this house down was an accident?"

Lights up green.

"Was it caused by a prank you and your brothers were playing?" Sam asks and it lights up green then flashes to red.

"That's weird." You look between them, "Is there someone else here with you, Miller?"

Lights up green.

"Is it Monroe?" You nod as it lights up green, "I remember Brian saying that one of the kids was a trouble maker.. he took the-" you put air quotes, "Pranks.. too far."

"That's right." Sam nods, "Monroe, was it you that started the fire?"

Lights up green.

"Was it an accident?" Colby asks in a softer tone and it lights up green, "You didn't mean to light the house on fire?" Colby asks again and it lights up red.

You shiver slightly at the mixed signals, "I just got a chill." You feel the same cat-like rubbing against your leg and you jump, letting out a slight scream, "That fucking. Cat!"

You move over by Sam, standing close to him as you're dead set on laying eyes on this ghostly cat apparition.

"Again?" Sam turns, "What the hell is up with that?"

"Kitty likes y/n." Colby laughs and you glare at him, "At least I didn't get kissed by a ghost."

His laughter stops and he goes serious, "Shut up."

You snicker and take a deep breath, "I like cats... don't get me wrong.. but I like the ones I can actually see." Sam lays his hand on your back, keeping the camera on Colby, "You aren't scratched or anything are you?"

You shift to pull the leg of your pants up, "No." you shake your head, "nothing is here."

"Well that's good, at least." Sam looks to Colby, "Should we go to the parents room? See if we can talk to them?"

Colby nods, "Yeah but if I get kissed again, I'm out."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam laughs and you follow him to the door, "Thank you Miller and Malcom."

Colby walks out behind you, shutting the door, "If it wasn't for posting this.. I'd say we never speak about that ever again." He laughs.

"They like you, honestly can't blame them." Sam purses his lips together and looks away. Colby smirks and pretends to get shy, "oh shucks. Sam. You know how to speak to me just right."

You almost told Colby to stop flirting with your boyfriend but you caught yourself, laughing as you shake your head.

"Alright. Alright." Sam laughs, "I'm thinking we try and get something out of the next room then we go down and check our stuff."

"Works for me." You nod and Colby nods, "Alright, let's do this."

You make your way to the room at the end of the hall, opening the door and making your way in. As you walk in, you gasp, "I swear something moved."

"Where?" Sam points the camera to where you're pointing, "Like a figure?"

You nod, "Yeah, like a white figure just moved into the wall. It was quick."

"That could either be Matthias or his wife, Molly." Colby looks around and you nod, "They really like the M names, don't they?"

"I don't really know anything about that, but I've caught onto that, too." Sam motions to Colby, "Set out the EMF, Colby."

Colby turns it on, setting it down on the bed, "Is anyone here with us?"

Lights up green.

"Is it Molly?" You ask and it lights up green, "Was that you that I saw when we first came in?" It lights up green again and you sigh, "We mean no harm, Molly. We just want to ask you some more questions if that's okay."

It lights up green and you look at Sam, "Should we ask about Monroe?" He nods, "I mean, I think we should." You nod and look to Colby, "Your turn."

"Were you afraid of Monroe?" Colby asks and it lights up green then shuts up quickly. Colby looks at Sam, "That would make sense."

Sam nods, "Yeah. If he felt outcasted or something, you know?" Colby nods, "We're you scared of him because of his pranks?"

Lights up green.

"Did he want to cause harm?" Sam asks and you watch as it flashes from green to red repeatedly, "Are you unsure?"

Lights up green.

"Okay, Molly. That's fine. Thank you." Sam looks to you and then to Colby, "Should we go downstairs now?"

Colby nods, "Yeah. I'm actually curious to see what was moved." He walks over to the door, "Did you close this when you came in, Sam?"

He shakes his head, "No I left it open."

"Did you close it?" Colby looks at you and you shake your head, "I didn't touch the door." Colby looks to Sam, "Fucking hell. Okay." He tries to open the door but it doesn't open.

"Is it locked?" Sam asks walking up to him, "Hold on let me.." Sam bends down, using the flash on the camera to see.

As you're standing there, waiting for them to get the door open, you feel something grab your ankle. When you lift that one, something grabs your other one and you let out a yell, "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

You move over to Sam and Colby and point to the end of the bed, "Something grabbed my ankles." You squeeze between them and Sam wraps his arm around your waist, "I moved the one it grabbed first then it grabbed my other one."

"They just wanted to see you dance, y/n." Colby says, "Are you okay?"

"They could have just asked me. Damn." You laugh slightly, "Yeah. I'm good. Let's just get out of here." You turn to grab the knob and the door opens, "They did it on purpose, little shits."

Sam and Colby laugh quietly as they follow you out of the room, "Oh. Did you want to set something at the top here?" Sam points to the steps, "We can put.." he looks around and walks over to grab something off the stand, "This here."

You nod, "That'll work." Your eyes follow him as he sets the circular object down. Sam stands back up, "Alright. Let's head down."

You stay close to Sam as you walk down the steps, glancing behind you every so often. Colby does the same, "Ever since we came down these the first time I can't shake that someone is with us."

Sam nods, "These stairs are weird." He turns at the bottom, making sure you come down safely, "I don't know how to explain it, but you know what I mean."

Colby walks down, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like there's just something that lives on the stairs or whatever."

You look down the hall, "The REM is going off again."

"Is it?" Sam points the camera down the hall, "Yeah it is. Holy fuck." He looks at you before he starts walking, you and Colby follow.

"Wait." You stop, bending down to pick up one of their stickers but it's stuck to the floor, "Sam. Colby." You move back, pointing to the sticker, "Something stuck that here."

"No fucking way." Sam moves the camera over it, trying to lift it up, "That's actually insane."

Colby bends down, looking up at Sam, "I hope we can't get in trouble for this." He laughs slightly, "we didn't do that."

"That's actually scary." You run a hand through your hair and it feels like a strand is lifted up, "Oh my go-" you move away, running your hand over your hair, "Did you get that?" You look at Sam and he nods, "I honestly think so. Fuck. Here."

He cuts the camera off and replays what he just recorded. Sure enough, you see the strand lift up and you jump away, "Oh my god. You got it." You look up at him and Colby takes the camera, replaying it, "That's actually fucking crazy."

You laugh, "I can't believe that." You point, "let's go see what else is moved." You walk with them to the living room area and look over the room.

Colby's hoodie isn't on the table, folded like you left it. It's actually no where to be found.

Your water bottle is on its side, on the other table.

Sam's water bottle, is empty, but there isn't any water in it.

"I hope you weren't thirsty and I hope you didn't like that sweatshirt." You shake your head in disbelief, "Oh, my socks are separated and one is here and the other is... gone." You turn to look at Sam and Colby.

"I liked that sweatshirt." Colby's voice is in a higher tone and he pretends to pout, "Damn it." He laughs and Sam walks over, "There's only one sticker left. I laid out three. So the second one is.." he looks around, walking around the living room area, "I can't find it."

"Is the camera still on?" You point and Colby walks over. After a few seconds of messing with it, he looks up, "Come watch this."

You walk over, along with Sam and stand on either side of Colby. You both watch as Sam's water bottle slowly uncaps and falls over, almost like someone was gently laying it on its side.

"That's so weird." Sam laughs nervously, "Oh, y/n. Your water bottle just falls over."

"Does it show Colby's sweatshirt moving?" You ask and Colby shakes his head, "I don't think-" the camera shows Colby's sweatshirt moving and then it's almost like it lays over the camera before it shuts off, "..so."

"So.." Sam stands up and turns, "Your sweatshirt.. covered the camera.. then the camera cuts out... and now your sweatshirt is just... gone?"

You lean on the table with one hand, "Tricksters." You laugh slightly and shake your head, "I'm sure we'll find it somewhere. It has to be around here somewhere."

Colby looks around, "thats actually really good footage, when though we don't have much." Colby runs a hand over his face, "The fact that it's just gone.. my mind is blown right now."

"Why don't we split up?" Sam suggests and Colby snaps his head towards him, "What?"

You smirk and look away as Sam explains, "We have three cameras. Two of us take each hallway down here. One goes upstairs."

You quickly put your finger on your nose for going upstairs, "No nose goes."

Sam quickly puts his finger on his noses followed by Colby and he groan, "Fuuuuck me."

You laugh, "Have fun upstairs, Brock."

"Have fun with your ghost cat, y/l/n." Colby chuckles and you shrug, "At least mine doesn't try to kiss me."

"Alright children." Sam laughs, "Let's get y/n set up with a camera and then we can get started." Sam sets the camera down on the table to get into his backpack to get you your camera.

After getting situated, Sam starts rolling, "Alright guys. So we are splitting up." He looks between you and Colby, "Well each have a camera. I'm sending Colby with the REM pod. Y/n will have the EMF. I'll just have me myself and I."

"Yeah, that's what you get for making me go upstairs." Colby laughs, "Let's just do this. Meet at the bottom of the steps in what? Thirty minutes?"

You and Sam nod, "that sounds fair enough." You look at Sam and he smirks, "Works for me." He looks to Colby, "let's go."

You all walk to the bottom of the steps and say your jokingly goodbyes before you all part ways. You were honestly kind of nervous to be on your own, but you knew you were meeting up with Sam any minute now.

You walk down the hall, looking at each door and picture frame that was hung on the wall, "That's the family guys." You point the camera to the picture of the Seebold family and take a deep breath as you continue walking.

You round the corner and stop when you hear the faint sound of footsteps, "Fuck. Okay. There's footsteps.. like someone is walking.. somewhere." You whisper to the camera, "Oh my god. I'm actually shitting my pants right now."

You laugh quietly and force yourself to keep walking. You reach your hand out, feeling the wall end and you go to turn the corner but you run into something and it grabs your arm.

You scream slightly but Sam turns his flashlight on, pointing it on himself, "Hey. It's me! It's me!"

You let out a sigh, "Holy fuck, Sam." You lay a hand on your chest, "I didn't know these hallways connected like this.”

He nods, "Neither did I."

You catch your breath and look up at him, and it's instant fire. You were finally alone with him.

And you had thirty minutes to spare.

"Come on." Sam smirks and pulls you into one of the rooms. It's mainly empty, but you didn't need much.

Sam turns his camera off and sets it down, along with yours and his hands are instantly on your waist, pinning you against the wall.

"Ever since you said something about it, it's all I could think about." He mumbles against your lips. You nod, "Mhm."

Your hands slide up his chest, intertwining your fingers with his hair. He slides a hand down, slipping it into the band of your leggings, "gotta be quick and quiet."

He drops down to his knees, pulling your leggings down to below your knees. You nod, watching as he slides his hands up your thighs. He pulls your panties to the side and rises up slightly.

You spread your legs as far as your leggings will let you before Sam leans in, lips wrapping around your clit.

You press your hand hard against your mouth to muffle your moans. Your other hand is on his head.

He lowly groans against you as he digs his fingers into your legs. You roll your hips forward, everything becoming nothing but you and him right now.

His tongue drags against your folds and you whimper. He looks up at you, moving to stand up as his fingers replace his tongue.

You moan as he pushes his fingers into you. He rests his forehead against yours, "You're so wet."

You tilt your head back to look up at him and his lips crash onto yours. You wrap an arm around his neck, grinding your hips down onto his hand.

"Wait.." you pull away breathing heavy, "wait."

"What, babe?" Sam looks at you confused and you look at him, "That sounds.. I swear I just heard Colby yelling."

He pulls his fingers from you and you hike your pants back up, "Like it sounded faint which makes sense because he's upstairs, but like."

Sam looks at you, "That?"

You listen for a minute and nod when you hear Colby yell again, "Yes. Yes that!"

"Sam! Y/n!"

You and Sam grab your cameras, turning them on when you get out into the hall. Sam takes a deep breath, "Yo Colby!"

Nothing.

"Okay. So I ran into y/n. We didn't know these hallways meet, and now we hear Colby yelling." Sam explains as he points the camera to him.

"Wait. Sam. What if they're just mocking him? Like trying to trick us? Isn't that what they did earlier to me when they said my name and it sounded like his voice?" You look at Sam and he looks at you, "it could be, but I don't want to take any chances."

You and Sam make your way down the hall and you stop, "Did you light these?" You point to the lit candles on the stand and Sam shakes his head, "No."

You look behind you, "Sounds like someone's walking." You look to Sam and back behind you, "Colby? Did you light these candles?"

Nothing.

"Alright let's just go fi-"

As you and Sam round the corner to the steps, a cat meowing at you both on the corner of the stand, makes you and Sam let out a loud ass scream, catching you off guard.

Sam grabs your hand and pulls you with him, dragging you with to the bottom of the stairs, "What the fuck?!"

"A fucking cat!? Was that a cat!?" You yell, looking up at Sam, "There's a real life fucking cat!?" You scream, clinging to Sam as your breathing is rapid, "What the fuck? Colby!!"

"Colby!" Sam yells, holding you close, "Colby there's a fucking cat!"

The ball shaped object that Sam placed at the top of the steps comes bouncing down, causing you and Sam to freeze.

You slowly turn your head, looking at Sam until you hear the sound of footsteps coming at you. You grab onto Sam tighter, letting out a scream, "Colby! Sam there were footsteps coming at us."

Sam pulls you closer,"Yo, Colby. Come on man!" He looks around, catching glimpse of the cat comes running over, but it doesn't register with him right away, so he takes off running.

"Sam!" You scream, "Where are you-" you let out a scream as the cat rubs up against your leg and Sam comes back quickly to grab you to pull you with him, "I thought you were behind me!"

"I'm over this!" You yell out, laughing slightly, "There's no way that's a cat. And that ball. What the hell."

"Yo. Colby!" Sam screams as you walk back over to the steps, "Let's go man!"

"What the fuck is happening down here?" Colby yells as he comes down the top flight of stairs, "All I heard was you both absolutely lo-"

Colby trips, rolling down the steps with a grunt, "oh fuck."

You and Sam run over to him, kneeling down next to him, "Colby. Hey. You with us?" Sam taps his face and he nods, "Yeah. I landed on the camera."

"I honestly think I got that on camera." You cover your mouth and try not to laugh. Colby chuckles but grunts in pain, "I need to see that."

The cat that's been following you all night, runs up and sits on Colby's chest. He does a double take, pointing, "It's a fucking cat."

You nod, "It's a fucking cat."

"That cat about made me shit my pants." Sam sighs, "We came around the one corner, because we heard you yelling and it was sitting eye level on a shelf and just meowed."

"So it's not a ghostly cat." Colby scratches its head and furrows his brows, "Wait." He goes to sit up and Sam helps him, "You said you heard me yelling?"

You and Sam both nod and Colby shakes his head, "I was chillen in the upstairs library the whole time until I heard your guys ruckus."

"You were right." Sam looks at you and you nod, "They were tricking us."

"Wait.. again.." Colby looks between the two of you and points back and forth, "Why were you two together?"

"The hallways meet. I kept following it and I ran into her. Scared the shit out of her." Sam laughs and you nod with a smile, "Yeah, I thought I was dying."

"Your smile tells me different, y/n." Colby tilts his head, "Is there going to be sex footage on those cameras?"

"Oh my god, Colby. No!" You stand up, holding your hand out, along with Sam's to help Colby up. He grabs both of your hands, standing up then reaching down to grab the camera.

"You turned your camera off right?" Sam leans in and whispers as quiet as possible. You nod, "Yeah. Did you?"

Sam nods, "I think."

"Secrets don't make friends." Colby clicks his tongue, "Just tell me my assumptions are right."

"And what are your assumptions, Colby?" You cross your arms, tilting your head. Colby smirks, nodding from you to Sam, "Yall are dating.. aren't ya."

Sam's the first one to break, "I wanted to tell you, brother. But this was just something that we.." Sam trails off and looks at you to continue speaking, "We were living in the moment of being the only two that knew. We planned on telling you tonight, I swear."

Colby stares at both of you, "So no one else knows?"

You and Sam both nod, "Right."

"So I'm the first person to know?" Colby raises his brows and you nod, "yes. Colby. You're the first person to know.”

He celebrates, "Yes!"

The sound of an echoing laugh cuts your moment short, “I hate to rain on everyone’s parade, but can we just get our shit and get out of here?”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I feel like this sucks, but it’s something for now. I’ve also been violently sick for the last few days, but I’m coming out of that and hoping to get some good shit out to you!

Thank you for reading!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 🖤

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vivicas-dollhouse · 5 months ago

Text

Undone: a masky and hoodie x yn fic; dd-dne

WARNING: this fic contains NONCONSENTUAL SEX, aka RAPE. If you keep reading thats on you.

Summary: after partying a bit to hard at the anime convention afterparty, you decide to walk home while still in your maid cosplay. Problem is, you are "giving some people the wrong idea"

Cw: rape, guns, drunk reader, afab reader, creampie, shes in a maid dress what can i say

1.1k words, enjoy~

The con was great, but that afterparty…

It was 2am and you were walking the streets alone in a maid dress. You swayed from side to side, stumbling every once in a while with your heels in your hand. You had had one too many shots and missed your ride home, and in your drunken state you decided, your house was only 3 miles away and you needed the excersise anyway. This maid dress was starting to get tight after all.

You had caught a few confused glances, but nothing that had bothered you. You were used to people thinking you were dressed like this for sex, but it really was just genuinely fun. Unfortunately, everyone reacts differently.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks as you tensed. Another man, separate from the first stepped in front of you, dressed in a yellow jacket with the hoodie up.

“Hey baby, what are you doin’ out here all by yourself?” He grinned, stepped closer. You backed up, hitting the second man behind you.

“Um, just walking home from the con, can i help you?” You trembled as he stepped closer again.

He chuckled, smiling. “Yeah, you could help us, come on honey, follow me,” he grabbed your wrist, dragging you forward as the second man held your shoulder, pushing you.

“Wait, its not like that, im just trying to get home,” you panicked, watching him drag you down an alleyway in horror.

“Whats it like dollface? You knew what you were doing walking out here dressed like that.” He held your wrist tighter as you fought. He scoffed, yanking you into him. “Dont be like that doll, your gonna get out of this alive if you be good, can you do that?”

You heard a soft click and felt the masked one put a gun on your left temple. You gasped as you were pushed into the alleyway wall, the masked one grabbing your wrists as you flailed.

“Dont make this hard for yourself, its gonna hurt more if you fight it,” the masked one said.

“Please, just let me go,” you sobbed, feeling your skirt being raised.

“You wanna go first tim?” The hooded one asked, holding your head against the wall with one hand and your wrists with the other.

“Yeah, you hold the gun, keep it on her. Dont want her to run.” He droned, slapping your ass. You made a soft squeak, feeling your panties being pulled down. He groaned, the sound of a zipper being undone making you cry harder.

“Oh quit whining, itll be over sooner the quicker you cooperate,” the hooded one said, holding the gun to your head.

You heard a spitting noise, and suddenly, you felt the head of tims dick on your ass, quickly getting shoved in. You moaned involuntary, trying to keep your mouth shut to not get them going. It wasnt going well. Tim groaned, the hand that wasn't grabbing your wrists sliding to your breasts. You cried loudly as he assulted you, his hands snaking through your neck hole to your bare breast. He toyed with your nipple, causing you to bite your lip and whine.

“Oh your such a fucking whore,” tim sighed into your ear, fucking you with such force that you were sure you were bleeding. “I bet you like this, what do you think bri?”

“I think she does, she moans like it. Cmon, moan louder princess,” bri, who you assumed his full name was brian, mocked. You stayed quiet, tears rolling down your cheeks. The gun was pressed harder to your temple. “You deaf? Moan for him,” he growled, and this time you complied, crying and moaning as he got rougher and rougher. Brian laughed, watching you become a mess.

“Fuck, shes tight. Shes gotta be a virgin,” tim groaned, and admittedly he was right. Deep shame burned in your chest, humiliated by the two men laughing like this was all a game. The pain they were putting you through was getting embarrassingly pleasurable, making you feel disgusting. Maybe they were right. Maybe you were asking for it.

“Fuck-,” tim huffed, nutting inside you and coming to a slow. He removed his hand from your boobs, letting you slide down the wall to a kneel. You sobbed, not daring to run as you knew brian had the gun on you still.

“Cmon sweetheart, your not done yet. Be a good girl and get on your back.” Brian ordered, passing the gun to tim who was zipping his pants back up. You did as you were told, crying as he kneeled and wrapped his hands around your small waist. He pulled you towards him, smiling at you.

“Please dont,” you whispered, watching as he unzipped his pants. He let his erection free, groaning. His dick was large, thick and oozing with precum.

“Make this easy for yourself and shut it unless your moaning. I dont wanna hear you talk again, or else.” He barked, motioning to tim aiming the gun at you.

Brian grabbed your legs and spread them, alining himself and inserting, earning a moan from you. You sobbed as he forced you onto his dick with his hands on your thighs.

“Good girl, your such a stupid slut. God your so hot with those tears running down your face.” He groaned. “Take your dress off before i shoot you,” he demanded. You quickly complied, crying harder as he moaned.

“Good girl..” he whispered. Your moans were very involuntary at this point, as you were INCHES from cumming. It wasn't about pleasure, it was actually painful as hell, but he just keep hitting right there, and you moaned loudly as he pushed you over the edge. He laughed, face red.

“She just came mask, can you believe that?” He laughed, watching the overstimulation making your eyes roll back.

You moaned loudly and uncontrollably, your tits bouncing as he fucked you senseless. Tim laughed, still pointing the gun at your head behind Brian.

“I can, shes tight right?” Tim chuckled, mask concealing his expression.

Brian moaned in response, thrusts becoming rougher and rougher as he rearranged your guts. His dick was so big that it was showing on your stomach when he rutted into you.

He came into you with a grunt, slowing down as he gasped. He removed himself, standing and zipping his pants up quickly.

“Dont move until you cant hear us anymore, got it?” He barked. You quickly nodded, pulling your dress down over your shaking body and sitting against the wall.

•••

Two weeks later, your period was late. You sat on the floor of your bathroom, dreading the tests results as you cried. You should've reported it, you just couldn't bring yourself to even acknowledge that it happened and that it wasnt just a bad dream, that you couldn't even remember their names if you did want to report it. Abortion was against state law, but surely you could figure it out.. right?

You nervously took the test off the counter, so nervous that you wanted to vomit. You braced yourself, swallowing.

Positive.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fanfic #masky mh #mh smut #mh fanfic #hoodie mh #masky smut #hoodie smut #crp fanfic #creepypasta smut #dddne fic #vivicas dollhouse

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ihrtsevyn · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please write something about Johnnie getting jealous🫶🏼

— JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY . . . 𖤐 | j.g x reader

moved to: @kiemiu

synopsis small scenario + headcanons of johnnie being jealous !

warnings slightly aggressive behavior?, cursing, lowercase intended, no specific race/gender/age specified. use of gender neutral terms. reader is intoxicated in the scenario. talks of insecurity.

wc 1.3k

masterlist | main page <3

. . .

SCENARIO:

johnnie would like to think that he isn't a jealous person, but undeniably he is. there's not a worse feeling than seeing the person you love fawn over another.

the feeling that grows in his stomach is unsettling, it makes him want to throw up. do you always scrunch your nose up when you laugh? is this guys jokes really that funny? the way you throw your head back and let out a loud cackle makes it seem so, but johnnie fully believes you're putting on a show. johnnie's funny too. you would know if you weren't so busy cuddled up under...brian? brad? whatever his name is, it doesn't matter. that should be him.

jake had been talking johnnie's ear off for the past 15 minutes about a small brawl that happened between two girls, or was it two guys? johnnie couldn't remember, his eyes had been laser focused on you the entire evening, his ears only picking up bits and pieces of jake's story. the sight hurt him, truthfully. it really shouldn't have because you two weren't dating but he did believe there was something going on between you two. an unspoken mutual attraction.

"dude, you haven't blinked once in the past twenty minutes i've been talking to you." jake worriedly mentioned with raised eyebrows.

jake's small comment easily caught johnnie off-guard. he rubbed his eyes with his free hand before rapidly blinking. his taller friend was joking but it was comical to see the emo get red in the face from embarrassment.

"just go talk to them." jake muttered, following his friends gaze. "they're busy, can't you tell?" johnnie mumbled bitterly before finally tearing his eyes away from your form for the first time that night.

he looked down at the solo cup that he maintained a loose grip on, woefully swirling the alcohol in choppy motions. he couldn't even remember what he was drinking at that point. ever since he laid eyes on that familiar face it's all he's been thinking about. you. you. you.

as well as the fact that all of your attention was on some other guy when it should be him.

jake scoffed before taking a quick sip of his drink, head shaking in disappointment. "just go talk to her, i can't stand to see you looking like a kicked puppy all night."

he tapped johnnie's shoulder a few times before escaping off into another conversation.

johnnie's gaze followed jake's form until he was fully out of sight, turning his full attention back to you. what he didn't expect was for your eyes to already be settled on him, making him freeze in the spot.

you offered him a kind smile before waving him over. he hesitated in his steps before taking quick strides over to you. what happened to that guy you were talking to?

"hey." he quietly muttered with a tight lipped smile. "hey, are you enjoying the party?" you asked. from that sentence alone, johnnie quickly came to the conclusion that you were fucked up. your smile was wide and blissful, eyes glossy and spaced out, not to mention the drunken drawl in your voice.

"sure, are..are you okay?" johnnie asked, a worried tilt in his voice. you nodded your head with closed eyes. the way your head lolled to the side and the cheshire grin on your face made johnnie think that you weren't fully aware of how drunk you had gotten.

"have you met my new friend brandon? he just went to go make us some more drinks. but he's so funny, i swear you'll love him." your pronunciation of words was all over the place and you could barely keep your eyes from closing.

oh, right. brandon was his name. johnnie rolled his eyes at the simple mention of the man before sighing and taking the seat next to you. even with your dazed state you could see the clear annoyance on his face. "i think it's time we get you home, hm?" johnnie muttered, eyes softening at your doe eyed stare.

"you don't like him, do you?" you asked quietly, completely ignoring johnnie's last statement. his eyebrows furrowed at your comment, slightly caught off guard by your question. "what? what do you mean? who don't i like?"

"brandon. you've been staring knives at us the whole time we've been talking."

shit. you saw him? "i-i dont even know the guy enough to hate him." johnnie nervously croaked out, his smile fell weak as he avoided your gaze.

"if i didn't know any better id say...you're jealous." you muttered, a sly smile growing on your lips. "what? no! come on, let's get you home, you're talking nonsense."

"don't you wanna wait for brandon?" you asked looking up at him as he grabbed your arm, pulling you up. "no." he immediately answered with slightly widened eyes.

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your mouth as you leaned into him for support. "you're definitely jealous." you quietly stated another muted laugh following after.

. . .

HEADCANONS:

he gets quieter. johnnie himself isn't the loudest most out-spoken person but when shuffles to the side and stops inserting himself in certain conversations, you'll know something's wrong.

becomes passive aggressive. he doesn't really mean to, it just comes naturally. the person that you seem to take a liking to makes a joke at someones expense and johnnie will find a way to turn it back on them. adding in snippy comments whenever they talk open their mouth and scoffing in disbelief when you laugh at one of their corny jokes.

tries to act unbothered. he'll force a smile and shrug his shoulders if someone asks him if he's okay. his responses are curt and have a monotonous tone, his voice straining sometimes as he forces out an "i'm good." he thinks he looks cool and unbothered when in his jealous state but instead he looks spaced out and miserable. it's very noticeable how frigid his posture becomes, his jaw clenching in annoyance as he stares daggers at whoever is taking up too much of your time.

overthinks. johnnie has been hurt before and he doesn't want it to happen again. his mind starts to go to a dark place and insecurities start to rise to the surface. he hates feeling this way so once he realizes these harmful thoughts are starting to come back he won't hesitate to voice his thoughts to you. you mean a lot to him and he'd hate for your relationship to go off of the rails because of a lack of trust or because of an insecurity that's been uprooted.

will isolate himself. if he's feeling jealous to the point of anger then he'll outwardly avoid you until he cools down. he goes to the quietest place available and is just alone with his thoughts, which isn't the best idea when he's starting to lose confidence in the role of being your boyfriend.

seeks comfort. in all honesty johnnie doesn't get jealous that easily, it's a rare thing. but when it does happen it's kind of hard to pull him out of that self-deprecating headspace. he won't outright ask for your comfort but as you build your relationship and notice his habits, it's easy to realize when he's in need of some reassurance.

he'll become a fidgety and nervous mess. his thoughts becoming more clouded and loud as time went on. half of his thoughts are telling him to grow a pair and the other half are worriedly expressing their concerns about the state of your relationship. he really just needs to hear you say that he's all you want/need.

once he gets that reassurance that he's the love of your life accompanied with an unwavering confidence from you, he starts to feel all better. even a bit cocky when he hears how you fawn over him. his once congested thoughts become clear of any and all doubt and he's suddenly smiling from ear to ear. he realizes how stupid it was to feel any type of jealousy when it's clear that the love you share for each other is equal.

. . .

thank you sm for the request! i really enjoy writing for johnnie lol. hope you guys like it <3 :)

requests are still open if you guys have any ideas :)

#johnnie guilbert headcanons #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert imagine #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert scenarios #johnnie guilbert

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neysaadept · 6 months ago

Text

Prometheus Chapter 13

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 13 - Chasing After You

Tags: Swearing, canon typical violence, panic attack, drinking, mentions of grooming, drugs, arson, juvenile detention, breast mutilation, incest, and underage prostitution. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 7.5k

AO3

… Desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm closer to where I started I'm chasing after you

Hanging by a Moment - Lifehouse

You haven’t changed out of your sleep clothes or done your morning routine as you sit on the edge of the bed next to the open black duffel bag on Saturday morning. There is a navy-blue sweatshirt sleeve hanging off the side with drumsticks peeking out. Everything else was safely nestled inside except for the phone in your hand that you were staring at as if willing the device to magically alert you to a response about your text message.

Alpha sent 0534: I think I’m fucked.

You couldn’t talk to anyone at the BAU about your hot and cold relationship with Emily because it would get back to her for sure. The team sucks at keeping personal secrets that don’t affect national security or involving a case. Rebecca wasn’t an option either. She may have been your partner in crime with the fake dating prank, but she’s with Tara and that goes back to the first group of individuals you’re trying to keep this from. Brian was out. No way were you going to drop this bombshell after decades of being a lone wolf of you willingly flirting with the section chief and it being clear that awkward night was affecting your working relationship. He already has his suspicions on your drunken behavior because you are the master of not letting your guard down. And you did.

“Come on,” you urge down at your phone and look at the time shift to 0559.

You’re about to give up when the chime went off that you received a message. Eagerly, you open the message and smile.

Charlie sent 0559: And what did we do this time? 😊

Alpha sent 0603: You promise to not tease me?

Charlie sent 0604: I can make no promises, love.

Alpha sent 0604: 😡

Alpha sent 0605: PLEASE

Charlie sent 0605: Wow. This IS serious. What is going on?

Charlie sent 0605: And if it is something with the mission Brian got your back.

Alpha sent 0606: Not about current assignment.

Charlie sent 0607: 😮

Charlie sent 0607: OK that is a first.

Charlie sent 0607: What is wrong? How can I help?

You pause typing there because now comes the hard part – admitting you are capable of having amorous feelings towards another woman. You press your lips tightly together and fumble with the keypad, typing and deleting your message several times. Then you hang your head when you finally send it with a fiercely beating heart full of fright.

Alpha sent 0612: I really like someone. A lot.

The phone immediately rings and you laugh because it was expected. You answer it while scooting back against the headboard with your legs stretched outwards. You had been hunched over for so long your muscles were screaming in stiffness which makes you grunt against the receiver.

“Woman you tell me everything right now because I am not believing you!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, overwhelmed at admitting this. “Comes as a big fucking surprise to me, too.” You narrow your eyes. “Do you know what I’m doing now?”

“Clearly not the woman that stole your heart.”

You blush hotly and cover your face. “Dude, just … just stop.”

She cackles over the phone. “I have to tease my baby sister that she has a crush.”

“Oh my god, I am not twelve. Stop talking like I’m a child.” But that made you glower into your lap, bringing your mind back to the argument with Prentiss.

“Ouch. That hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s not you. It’s the whole fucking situation.”

“Okay. So, fill me in. And no, Brian hasn’t told me or Echo anything about what you’ve been up to.”

You fill her in on everything regarding Rebecca Wilson’s big favor, working with the BAU as a consultant, the stipend, and all about Section Chief Emily Prentiss. The first rocky week of your partnership, drinks at Buddy’s, making amends with a desk, Diet Coke, and working assignments together. Then you go into explicit details of Emily coming to your unit and collecting you for a girl’s night, the drunken ride home, and the inexplicable attraction that kept you standing there helpless before forcing yourself to move towards your building. And, of course, yesterday’s fight.

“Wow,” she says in amazement, but joy is heard there, too. “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

“You’re not kidding.” You sigh into the receiver. “It’s so easy. Working with Emily. Being around Emily. It was nice, too. Finding that with someone outside of the fucking CIA and our little group,” you confess soberly. “Then it all got ruined because I’m a dumbass.”

“You’re not a dumbass for having feelings.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not supposed to have them because I’m incapable of having them. And now they’ve fucked up my friendship with her because now I have them. Which only furthers proves I’m a fucking idiot.” You slam your fist against the bedspread and growl in frustration at yourself. “She completely hates me now.”

“You’re only human. And honestly? This just shows how far you’ve come. And no, I sincerely doubt she hates you. You said the fight didn’t escalate like before, right?”

You bounce your head against the headboard lightly in rhythm to think and then stop when you speak up again. “No. It was … rather tame considering.”

“Right. So obviously she isn’t that upset.”

“Then I made her uncomfortable.”

“You made the Emily Prentiss uncomfortable? Girl, get over yourself.” She laughs and you can’t help joining in.

“Okay, point. But she’s obviously affected by what I said without directly coming out and saying it.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And, what?” you ask, puzzled.

“Fucking go talk to her.”

You freeze, feeling all the blood drain from your face and speak with a shaky face. “Uh, yeah. No. Can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m always gonna be two triggers away from becoming a sociopath and she doesn’t need someone like me in her life!” you yell, white knuckling the phone.

“Oh, sweetie. We’re all wired this way. I bet Prentiss is, too. Some just got it worse than others, like you, but even we deserve happiness. You’re long overdue for some.”

She waits for you to get ahold of your ragged breathing that she hears pounding against the other end. You put the phone down and collect yourself, running a hand through your hair and realize that your once comfortable position sitting against the headboard had become you hugging knees to your chest. You roll your head back and forth and begin the familiar pattern of breathing and holding your breaths in fours. With each successful round of grounding, your limbs loosen and fall to the bed. Your neck cracks and stretches the tension away until finally, tight shoulders drop.

You’re back and you bring the phone to your ear knowing Charlie is waiting for you.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now let’s start over and talk about why you deserve this chance and then you can see how you feel about it and make a decision.”

“Damn it,” mutters Rebecca looking at her phone. She’s cozied up against Tara’s side on the couch at her girlfriend’s home.

They wanted to have a quiet night in, but the two of them thought it would a good idea to invite you over to join them. Also, Rebecca hadn’t had a chance to see you since the dinner awhile back and she was missing you. They were waiting for your response but had started on the wine without you.

Tara looked up to respond with a questioning gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“She said no,” Rebecca responded frumpily and tossed her phone down by the furthest cushion. “I really thought she’d come.”

“I’m not,” Tara states emphatically without thinking before taking a sip from the wine glass. They had chosen a cabernet sauvignon to have while watching the movie Till, and the bottle was ready for refills on the coffee table.

Rebecca’s head snaps at Tara with much curiosity. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Tara stopped in mid-sip realizing she was in trouble. “Uh …”

“Don’t uuuuuh me.” She pries the drink from Tara’s hand and sets in on the table. “What’s going on with her that I don’t know because last time I remember, I was her friend first. Which means, I’m on a need to know basis on what you clowns at the BAU have done to her.”

“Hey! What makes you think it’s us?” Tara declared with a tinge of hurt.

“Who else could it be?” she retorts with confidence and goes into lawyer mode. “The only variable that’s changed with her since I’ve known her is working as an FBI consultant with the BAU. And I know your track record with drama. So, please tell the jury who else has upset Agent Whitlock. And remember,” she pauses to bop Tara’s nose with a fingertip, “you’re under oath.”

Tara playfully tries to bite Rebecca’s finger as she pulls away which makes them smile adoringly towards one another. It makes Tara sigh with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not technically the BAU.”

Rebecca raises an unamused brow, but Tara holds up a hand to halt the retort. “I’m serious.” She rocks her head back and forth on how to phrase this. “It’s really just the … section chief of the BAU.”

That makes her brows furrow in defensiveness. “What the hell did Prentiss do?”

Tara leans with a huff. “It’s a long story.”

She takes the remote and pauses the movie. “Girl, I’ve got all night for you to convince me not to tear Prentiss a new asshole. You better get talking.”

User45125 sent 0924: Before we get to that, need assurances.

FlamePit23 sent 0945: Like what?

User45125 sent 0955: Need a favor done. And if done right, we can go ahead with your present.

FlamePit23 sent 0956: What kind of favor?

User45125 sent 0956: Not here. Want to talk. You game?

FlamePit23 sent 0957: I am.

User45125 sent 0959: Let me take care of some things on my end and I’ll let you know.

FlamePit23 sent 1000: Try not to have too much fun without me.

User45125 sent 1001: Wouldn’t think of it.

FlamePit23: sent 1002: Good. Talk soon.

This conversation happened during the day at the BAU where Prentiss and Garcia could watch the exchange in real time. Soon as you got the first text, you fired off one to Prentiss and Garcia to meet you in Penelope’s lair.

“Good work, my beloved cutie. You’ve gotten one step closer at snagging Spiderboy,” exclaims Penelope giving you a bright smile.

“Thanks.” You nod appreciatively. “Need to be careful though. He sniffs even an ounce of deceit; this plan is fucked.”

“Agreed.” Prentiss remains passive, focusing on the screen. You two haven’t shared a single word that wasn’t work related which was fine by you. “Let’s go over your cover.”

Penelope cracks her knuckles and brings up the digital creation for you. “Meet Nikole Wade – forty-three-year-old woman who barely graduated High School with a 2.0 GPA at Graves County in Mayfield, KY. She has a lovely rap sheet of violence and arson that has landed her in juvie several times because of her abusive father, Liam Wade. Thankfully he tragically died by slamming into a tree because he had a heart attack while driving his truck. Backstory, he was addicted to alcohol and cocaine. Mama Katie Wade in her infinite wisdom, thought she could groom her daughter for prostitution to pay the numerous bills. That’s when Nikole’s penchant for fire starting came to fruition and burned down the house, along with her mother. It was ruled an accident because mommy dearest had too much to drink and kept the stove on. Nikole ends up working a lot of retail jobs and is currently a cashier at the Food City grocery store in Gatlinburg, TN.”

“This fits with the whole nurturing angle that FlamePit23 has on her profile,” you continue. “And with a history like this, it explains her antisocial tendencies and denying friendships. We theorize by previous posts that the user came to this forum to gain new insights into what other arsonists are doing to keep their habits going without getting caught. Then ends up disgusted with how many wannabees there are playing pretend.”

“And this corroborates Green’s explanation of how Sicarius weeded through the users for those individuals that were legit. FlamePit being one of them,” Prentiss surmises.

“Exactly.” Penelope brings up a picture of you digitally altered to look like a teen during the juvie years of your story. “Isn’t she cute!”

Your head drops as you sigh. “You won’t let that go.”

“I will not. Not unless you show me an actual picture of teenage you to dispute your cuteness.”

“You know I can’t do that,” you plead while turning your head to look at her.

“Therefore, you are cute!” Penelope grins with a scrunched nose.

“Both of you focus,” Prentiss snaps, which got both of yours attention. And here you thought she would remain neutral but here comes bitch mode. “What have you done to make Sicarius believe this?”

Penelope’s wide eyes return to normal after being scolded. “Ah, well, the usual. High school records, a sealed juvenile record, uh … different places she’s worked, social security cards, birth certificates. A few police reports and articles about the crash and fire. If he somehow goes deeper than that, we’ll … we’re screwed.”

“But really, a person like Nikole Wade isn’t gonna have a lot to find since she’s kept to herself since becoming of age. I’ve already studied unsolved arsons in the Kentucky and Tennessee area that I can use for a resume in case he questions me,” you add. “Honestly, this is as good as it’s gonna get, Prentiss. Not unless you want me to do an entire photoshoot for new material.”

She heard the roughness in your tone in response to her impatience. She really couldn’t blame you and rises from her seat. “Alright. Let me know when he schedules the call. Until then, I’ll be in my office.”

“Oh, okay, Emily …” Penelope starts talking but Prentiss already was on the move and didn’t make eye contact with either of you. The door closes and she ends up waving to the door. “Bye!”

You roll your eyes at Prentiss’ childish behavior. “Anyway, I should probably get back to my desk since we’re good here.”

Penelope wants to say something so bad, but she can’t. She just can’t! No matter how much she wants to interfere and smack yours and Emily’s heads together to get a clue. Her, Tara and JJ all promised to not tell you anything.

So instead, she nods with agreement. “Yep! Those nasty reports can’t write themselves.”

Two days and there was no further contact from Sicarius, thus the BAU was business as usual writing up reports, analyzing data, and piecing together information to connect the victims in the shipping container to the missing persons. Tara has provided closure to three families. Penelope has made your cover identity as airtight as she possible can with the cyber crime division and what made Prentiss exceptionally happy? That Bailey had nothing to say about any of their work because the expenses were paid for and Director Korogoth’s glowing report of the BAU’s work in Idaho with your expertise made the AG extremely happy. She saw the benefit of Rebecca’s involvement of you, which also made Director Madison happy. The BAU was coming out ahead all thanks to collaborative efforts of you and the BAU.

What personally sucked was the lack of resolution between the two of you. She hadn’t even devised a solution to the problem she, once again, created so the only option was to avoid anything social with you. Admittedly her anxiety over the situation spilled over to impatience with snappish responses to any frivolity in the unit. At least she was consistently bitchy instead of her previous singular agenda against you. What weighed on her mind were things growing more awkward as she dragged out clearing the air with you.

“Hey, Em? Got a sec?”

She looks up from the opened file from New Mexico to address JJ. “Yeah. Come on in.”

JJ closes the door which puts Emily on alert. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, that depends.” JJ takes a seat across from Emily with purpose.

Emily speaks cautiously. “Oh what …”

“On why you haven’t talked with Whitlock yet,” she accuses.

She closed the file forcefully and was defiant. “JJ, I’m in no mood for this right now.”

JJ’s brows raise in disagreement. “Ah, well. Guess what? We’re talking because your mood sucks around here and it’s getting really old, really quick.”

“Are you seriously reprimanding me?” Emily challenged.

“Ah, yeah. Clearly, I am.” She frowns. “You need to talk to someone about it. Why not me?”

Emily starts to respond but doesn’t know how to start, leaving her mouth hanging open. JJ is patient since she sees that she is trying.

“You were right, JJ,” she admits with a long face. “I fucked up.”

“How did you fuck up?” she probed gently.

“Nina … is her mandated psychiatrist.”

Blue eyes look hard at Emily to interpret why this news unsettled her. All of them had mandated therapy sessions at several points in their careers, and now she knew who Nina was. Which wasn’t a woman in competition with her for your affections. “Okay. How is this bad?”

Emily licks her upper teeth as if there was a bad taste in her mouth before holding JJ’s gaze. “Because … I didn’t do as you suggested. And because of that we had another disagreement here in my office. Oh, stop that!” Emily scolds JJ dubious look. “It wasn’t like before. Tempers weren’t so heightened. But …”

JJ leaned in closer waiting for a continuation that never comes. She speaks up, coaxing her friend to keep going. “But what, Emily?”

With a sigh, Emily shrinks back into her chair to avoid eye contact. “Because I didn’t ask her who Nina was like you suggested. Instead, I learned it because she took a call from Nina.”

JJ winces. “Ouch.”

She points emphatically to her. “Exactly.”

“Well, it’s still salvageable,” JJ suggests furrowing her brows with concentration.

“I’ve messed up twice, JJ.” She holds up two fingers for emphasis. “Twice. I’m not willing to gamble the third times the charm.”

“Okay, if you want to be technical, you’ve already messed up three times if you could the first week you worked together with her,” offers JJ with a glint in her eyes. “So, fourth time’s the charm?”

Emily response was crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay, yeah. Not funny,” JJ agreed, but she wasn’t going to give up on Emily. “You’re gonna have to work together for awhile still. You might as well be honest and apologize to smooth things over.”

“She’s too smart to take just the apology, JJ. She’ll want a reason.”

JJ shrugs. “So, tell her the reason.”

“Tell her she hit on me in Russian?” she scoffs at that. “Like she’ll believe me. She obviously doesn’t remember what happened. And after my behavior, you really think she’ll take my word? Or hell, really anything I have to say?” She looks guilty at JJ. “I really laid into her about the last case. About her call in the field.”

JJ knows how ugly that can get and is sympathetic for you. “Remember what I said when we were discussing this before?”

“That I basically suck at relationships.”

“True, but you needing more information is what I was going for,” she reminds Emily. “I think that if you don’t resolve what is, and isn’t, going on with you and Whitlock, this is just gonna keep escalating further until you have a real blow up. Professionally, that won’t be good and could get someone seriously hurt … or killed.”

She nodded thoughtfully at that, knowing JJ was right. “And what about personally?”

“Oh, that’s simple.”

Emily looked at JJ who was sitting eagerly at the edge of the chair. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. I want you to be happy and I really think that if you clear up this misunderstanding, you’ll get that chance.”

The case officially came that evening once logistics were ironed out. Penelope sent out the ‘Avengers Assemble’ text to the team on Prentiss’ behalf and that night you took the jet to Albuquerque, NM. A series of disappearances occurred at different campsites where the victim’s cars were left at NomadLand and Enchanted Trails RV park. Word is the victims stopped there for directions and never made it back to their vehicles. Both families called in a missing person report. Two weeks later, a couple of dirt bike riders found the bodies of the missing women off an OHV* trail by Goose Lake. It was roughly a four-hour drive from Albuquerque. The bodies of the women were found naked with signs of sexual abuse and breast mutilation.

You, Rossi and Prentiss were working with Albuquerque detectives on the geographical profile and pouring over cases that may have been missed similar to the current one. Lewis was interviewing family and witnesses while Alvez and JJ were investigating the dump site and talking to the rider that found the bodies.

By the weekend you had the profile of a twenty to thirty-year-old male who not only wants power over his victims by assaulting them, but also expressing deeply rooted anger by disfiguring the victim’s breasts. It more than likely stems from psychology trauma inflicted upon his mother or another female authoritative figure. As the victims were both similar in appearance and age, they suspect a Hispanic unsub.

That brings you to Gabriel Arellano, a thirty-three year old out of Farmington, NM, a city three hours northwest of Santa Fe. He and his three brothers were raised by their single mother, Elisa Arellano. Several calls to CYFD* were made on the children’s behalf, due to Elisa’s drug and alcohol habits and eventually the children were taken away from her and they were put into the foster care system. Once Gabriel finished High School, he made it his mission to raise his siblings, but no one was aware of the sexual abuse his mother unleashed upon him when she was high and intoxicated.

That inner rage was tempered to protect his brothers, making sure that Elisa only abused him. By researching similar kidnappings, the BAU were able to determine that Gabriel’s killings started once his youngest brother, Ricardo, moved out of their shared apartment. Once alone, Gabriel no longer was focused with family obligations and was triggered by seeing a woman that resembled his mother at a construction job per Garcia’s digging. That disappearance happened six years ago. Paula Sanchez’s body was found outside of the Navajo Nation reservation, strangled, raped, and had bite marks on her breasts, focusing on the nipples. He has slowly escalated since.

State PD had issued an APB* on Arellano’s silver 2002 Dodge Charger as he was lying low since the news broke of his involvement. Law enforcement was confident he was still in state but had collaborated with surrounding states to monitor highways for people matching his description and vehicle.

After a lead on Arellano’s whereabouts turned up cold by a Circle K in Hatch, NM, you were driving back to the hotel in Albuquerque. The ride was under three hours and since it wasn’t hot this time of year, you had the window down enjoying the fresh air with classic rock playing. Prentiss was in the passenger seat checking her phone and Rossi was well aware of the tension between the two of you. Tension that had been building over the last week. Emily’s cold behavior had resurfaced after drinks last Friday night and was avoiding you at work as much as possible. Prior to that, the two of you had an easy working relationship and conversation. You sometimes took lunch together in Emily’s office. That came to a sudden halt on Monday.

He glances between the two of you and smiles. “Pretty chilly up front.”

You have your Ray-Ban’s on, so he didn’t notice you looking up at the rearview mirror. He has this knowing smirk on his face and your stomach sinks. You pray he says nothing. Emily doesn’t even acknowledge him.

“Alright. How about this.” He folds his hands atop his jacket. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you two?”

Prentiss keeps scrolling on her phone but not she’s on edge. Or at least was doing a good job pretending. You shrug. “I’d say I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about but clearly that won’t work.”

Rossi half smirks with a chuckle. “The trials and tribulations of working with profilers.”

Prentiss half snorts as you bit your lower lip in thought. You did not want to have this conversation right now with Rossi present. Or really, at all. You’re still mad at Emily.

He starts tapping his thumbs together thoughtfully as neither you or Prentiss comment further. “Come on, ladies. Something’s clearing bothering the two of you.” He pauses patiently. “What happened?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with Papa Rossi,” you dismiss with a half-smile that Prentiss catches.

“Oh, god. That was fucking terrible, Whitlock,” Emily noted with a huff.

Rossi was happy you two were talking but he didn’t understand what happened. “What was terrible?”

“Dave, seriously? You don’t hear it?” Emily says partially annoyed, but you note a hint of amusement.

He’s baffled. “Hear what?”

“Papa Rossi.” You say again and he looks blankly at you still not understanding the joke. “It’s like … paparazzi ya big fancy famous writer man.”

“Ooooh!” His head rocks back as he laughs just as a silver Dodge Camaro passes your SUV on the other side of the two-way highway.

You looked at Prentiss who was looking at you. Dave was laughing cluelessly. There was only one way to find out if this was your guy and that was to go after the driver. You share a nod with Prentiss and suddenly turn the SUV around for U-turn. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and purposefully go off roading for a second to even out the car so you don’t tip over. You thank fed tires for being strong enough to not get stuck in the sand.

“Whoa!” Dave exclaims while grabbing onto the headrest of the passenger seat and the door handle. “What the hell Whitlock?!”

“Camaro that matches the description of our unsub just drove past us,” informs Emily as you start back on the main road to catch up.

“On it,” says Rossi, making a call to the New Mexico State Police.

You work the controls under the automatic gear shift to put in a call to Penelope. The car was synched up to your phone by Bluetooth that was secured on a handsfree mount on the dashboard next to the dash camera.

Her face appears on screen. “Hello my lovelies. What’s up?”

Prentiss speaks up first. “Access the dash cam. We need to ID the car in front of us. Might be our unsub.” And as she finishes saying that the Camaro starts burning rubber and speeds off. “Which has now elevated to probably our unsub,” Prentiss updates.

“Doubt they’re running from a ticket,” Rossi says while announcing different markers on the side of the road so state troopers could intercept.

You hit the accelerator and chase after them. “I need real time reports of traffic. We haven’t seen much but in case this gets messy, I don’t want any civilian injuries.”

“Done and done! Oh yeah … uh, that’s our guy. Plate matches.”

Rossi takes over relaying that information. “We have confirmation that we’re in pursuit of the suspect’s vehicle. New Mexico Plate Tango Charlie One Eight Nine Nine.”

“Wait. You’re driving crazy with Dave in there?”

“Well, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask while Penelope brings real time traffic for you as requested on your display.

“Dave you be careful!”

“I’m the one driving, Pen. Shouldn’t you be telling me to be careful?”

“She’s saying I’m old and don’t have a heart attack,” he says for clarification.

“Don’t worry, Queen Penelope,” you say quickly as you close the distance going ninety and climbing. “I’ve got this.”

“Uh, Queen Penelope?”

You hear the guilt in her voice and call her out on it. “Yeah. Why’s that weird? You are the Black Queen.”

“Right! I’m the Black Queen, hence why you’re addressing me as my sovereign title.” And not because of the chat title she gave herself in the secret chat group she made to discuss two of her favorite people she was staring at during a high speed chase.

“Why you acting weird?” you ask, watching the display and the road ahead of you. There are miles of desert in this area and rest stops. So far, the lack of traffic is on your side.

“Why are you?” Penelope says defensively without meaning to.

“Yeah … no. We’re revisiting this later but right now I need to focus.” You cross the solid yellow line into the opposite lane.

“What are you doing?” Prentiss wonders cautiously.

“Gonna say hi.”

Even Rossi was dumbfounded by this. “Say … hi?”

“Yep.” You speed up and follow alongside the Camaro and see Gabriel is white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Well, that’s definitely our guy.” Prentiss confirms and Rossi relays that information to dispatch as well. What she wasn’t expecting is you waving at the suspect. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I told you; I wanted to say hi.” You see Gabriel meet your gaze and watch his brows raise above the sunglasses in what had to be shock. You then grab Prentiss’ lanyard and hold it up. “Tell him to pull over.”

“I just … I don’t even know what to think about you right now.” Prentiss is exasperated and snatches her ID back as Rossi busts out laughing. “Dave! This is not funny.”

“Actually, it’s quite hilarious and technically by the book.” Dave starts explaining to dispatch what was so funny and then frowns noticing movement in the car. “Oh, looks like he’s reaching for something.”

“Probably a gun,” sighs Prentiss. “It’s always a gun. They can never go quietly.”

“Yep, there it is,” you announce, seeing the flash of metal in the desert sun. “Just needed confirmation.” Then you hit the brakes to confuse Arellano and end up behind the vehicle once more.

Dave was hanging on to dear life and almost dropped his phone. “Warn me next time!”

“OH MY GOD YOU ALMOST KILLED DAVE!” Penelope shrieks over the connection.

“I’m not killing anyone! God. You all need to trust me that I know what I’m doing. And thanks for asking if me and Emily are okay, too,” you bark and straighten out the car.

You both zoom past a small gas station leaving a trail of dust behind and as far as you could tell, the road was continued to be clear, and police were still enroute. You had no visuals either way and it was time to change that. “Pen, we’re still alone out here, right?”

“Ah, yes. No civies and police are about ten minutes away from catching up.”

You surmise that if this goes the way it will, either troopers will open fire on the vehicle and end up killing Arellano, set up tire spikes and have you back off but that would alert him that something was up. You’re aggressively tailing him. There’s also the chance they’ll try and barricade him, and he’ll just slam through it and possibly kill someone.

You keep your eyes up ahead and see Arellano poking his head out to open fire several rounds. You swerve out of the way, rocking everyone inside as tires hit desert sand before pulling the car back onto the pavement. At least he only had a handgun he was currently using, though there may be other weapons in the car, but you make your decision.

“You trust me?” you ask, turning to Prentiss.

Without hesitation, she nods firmly. “I do.”

“Shoot the back right tire after I get him to open fire again. With him distracted, I’m hoping he spins …”

“… off the road. The sand should slow him. Car like that’s not made for driving on sand for too long.”

“And then we surround the car to arrest him while he’s in shock,” finishes Dave.

You hit the accelerator and come up to his right, off roading until you catch up to him as Emily rolls down her window. Emily had her gun hidden from view, but the safety was off and ready to go once you gave her the opening.

You nod your head up and salute Arellano with a cocky grin, which pisses him off after he realizes you were right there again. He quickly points the gun at you. You hit the brake while easing off the accelerator, so all Arellano shot was the passenger window, shattering glass pieces everywhere where you now weren’t. You veer back onto the road, the car’s suspension taking the brunt of force for changing terrain so quickly. You saw how frantic Arellano was trying to control the steering wheel and with you keeping him off guard, it left him open for Prentiss who was already leaning out the window and lining up a shot.

She fires one round into the back right tire as planned and immediately you slow down to bring the car around to the left to avoid impact. The tire blows out with a bang and since Arellano was pulling the steering wheel down to the right, the car spins out in a three-sixty once and diverges off the road. In a panic, Arellano hits the accelerator, kicking up sand and with the loss of traction, ends up spinning his good back wheel deeper into soft sand. He was stuck.

Before he could make a decision on what to do next, you already pulled up alongside his car and put it in park to allow Rossi and Prentiss out. They quickly take sides, pointing their guns at him from both front windows.

Rossi was on the passenger side and saw that in the chaos, Arellano lost his gun. The 9mm was laying on the floor mat of the passenger side.

Rossi tsks as he tries to go for it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Arellano slowly raises his hands, glaring at Rossi with crooked sunglasses. Prentiss keeps the gun training on him while opening the driver’s side. “And you are under arrest Mr. Arellano. Let me list off all the reasons why …”

You were leaning against the SUV with arms crossed watching the state troopers take custody of Arellano from Rossi. It just made sense to wait and hand him off to local authorities, and it was one less thing the BAU had to do. The rest of the team would meet you in the police station in Albuquerque and start the paperwork to tie the case up with a bow for the district attorney.

You became distracted by the sound of the tow truck the troopers called in to take the Camaro. The driver was just finishing attaching the tow hook under the front bumper when you felt another presence join you against the car. You know it was Prentiss, but you honestly had nothing to say to her. Nope. Not even if she still trusted you in the field. Not that it almost made the fight you had in her office sting less.

Emily has her hands tucked into her front pants pockets and watches the car being pulled up the ramp with you. “Your driving was incredible,” she states delicately, testing the waters.

“Thanks.” You then add as an afterthought. “Nice shot.”

“Thanks.”

Silence ensues as you both watch the driver secure the Camaro. You really just want her to go and end this awkwardness, but Prentiss’ stubborn ass is still there.

You hear Emily shift beside you and then a thud. You finally dare to look at her and see her gazing up towards the sky. Silver grey hair was tousled against her shoulders and the car since there was no time for her to put it in a ponytail. Everything happened so fast as the three of you were not prepared for an actionable situation. She looks even more beautiful.

You resist the urge to restart the conversation despite wanting to know what’s on her mind, so you look across the scene and see Rossi looking back at the two of you. He smirks and just walks away and thus, takes away your way out.

Ugh.

“I need to apologize again,” admits Prentiss with a soft voice that takes you by surprise.

You tilt your head slightly while raising your brow. “Won’t hear me arguing.”

She nods. “I deserve that.” You watch her swallow; your eyes dragging along her neck and enjoy the view far too much for your liking before Emily moves her head to catch your gaze. “I am sorry. For the misunderstanding in my office.”

Your eyes squint and give no indication to her if you accept. You need more information. “But why was there one? I mean, I get being miffed that I did my own thing …”

“Miffed?” she questions while cutting you off.

“Put out. Angry. Asserting dominance by being a bitch.” You shrug nonchalantly but Emily heard the underlying hurt in your voice. “Miffed’s being nice, chief.”

“Oh … don’t do that,” Emily says with disappointment.

“Do what?” You know what you did.

“Be all formal like that.”

“Well, I thought we were past all that, but you pulled rank on me.” You didn’t hide the hurt in your voice as you challenged her. “That was Section Chief Prentiss getting pissy with me, so I figured I need to address you that way from now on.”

“But that’s not what I want,” she reveals quickly and that made you pause once your eyes meet brown ones. In that moment, all the sounds became muffled as time slowed. You could feel your heart begin to race under Emily’s intense gaze that were holding all the answers to why your friendship went to shit. You have your suspicions, but it was important to hear it from Prentiss.

“So,” you ask bluntly. “What the fuck do you want? Cuz I’m tried of this bullshit, chief.”

She winces and you hate that as much as you like doing that to her. You want to be vindictive like she was being to you, but in the next breath, you really hate how upset you were making her.

You watch her lips push and pull ever so slightly in thought but somehow, she has the strength not to look away. When her facial features smooth out, you know she comes to a decision and wait for it while holding your breath.

She fists her pants pockets and speaks your name with care. “I want you.”

The air rushes out of your mouth as your chest tightens. You end up playing dumb because you don’t know how to react to this and look away cowardly. “I … what?” Then your defense mechanism kicks in. “Kinda have an audience here, Prentiss.”

She smiles, glad to hear your joke and most importantly you are calling her by her last name again. “Well, I was thinking of a few dates first but hey, we can always give them a show,” she says as her gaze looks out to everyone clearing the scene. She saw Rossi finishing up with a deputy.

“That is the socially acceptable thing to do first,” you agree, then look at her. “But why are you telling me this now? Seems an odd time to do so.”

“That it is.” Her lips press thinly before responding. “I was gonna ask you out last Saturday.”

That made you jerk back and tilt your head in thought. “The day after Fireside?”

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Okay.” You sound as confused as you looked. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I was about to when I overheard your speaking with Brian.”

“Brian?” You’re baffled. “What does my conversation with Brian have to -. Oh …” It finally clicks as you remember your conversation about your ‘date’ with Nina. “Prentiss,” you say teasingly and smirk as she blushes. “All this nonsense was cuz you’re jealous?”

“I am not not saying that,” she sneers, but takes a deep breath before nodding. “But … maybe.”

You’re touched and feel yourself beaming. “Thank you for telling me.”

She looks at you pointedly and sees a resolution reflecting in your eyes. Emily frowns. “But?”

“But this isn’t a good idea. Even with me hitting on you in Russian,” you admit sheepishly.

“So, you do remember!” She grins. “Ass.”

You bow your head at that remark to concede the truth of it.

“And just for the record, I’ve been informed that since Brian is your direct supervisor, you wouldn’t be dating your boss,” she answers, anticipating your next response.

Shit.

Do you keep pressing that you work together and it’s a bad idea despite there being no official reason not to have a romantic relationship with one another. Or do you tell her the truth.

You look down at the sand. “I suck at relationships.” You give her a partial truth.

“That’s alright because you’re in luck.” She says your name and you look up to see her smile knowingly. “I suck at them, too. Like, really suck at them. As JJ will confirm, I’m the master of self-sabotage.”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “That’s a helluva thing to admit to someone you’re asking out.”

“Yes, it is.” Emily kicks at the sand nervously since you still haven’t given her an answer either way.

“You know I don’t date. Like, ever.” You admit and hear Emily’s boots shifting quickly in the sand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize that. But you know I appreciate you telling me this up front instead of stringing me along. Or being utterly rude like I was to you.” Emily was starting to spiral and needed to get away from you to recuperate from this raw emotional state. Damn her for assuming you would just magically forgive her and say yes.

“Hey, Emily?” you start but she was still going.

“No, it’s alright. Thank you for this.” Her smile was all for show, but her eyes were dull and defeated. “We should get Rossi and head back to meet the rest of the te-.”

“Emily, stop!” You say firmly and that halts her from walking away any further. She hesitantly looks at you despite her body thrumming with anxiousness. She was ready to bolt by words or movement. You take a cautious step forward and decide to go all in like Charlie hoped you would. “I mean, I’ve never dated anyone before. Ever.”

Emily quirks a brow as if she didn’t hear that right. “Like … ever?”

“Never, ever.” You kick the sand now and chuckle nervously. “No one came along that mattered.”

Emily’s lips slowly curl into a hopeful smile. “Really? Not even in high school or …?”

You confirm all of that with a nod, which was far more confident than your voice that cracks. “Yep.” With Emily looking so adorable with that admission you look away. “Fuck, Prentiss. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asks taking a step back closer to you with a shit eating, confident grin.

“Fuck it, like that!” you accuse, gesturing at her, with a nervous laugh. Damn her gorgeous smile that just lights up when so thrilled. For once, Emily looks like the weight of the entire world didn’t rest on her shoulders. How could that be because of you?

“So?” she lowers her voice on purpose and stops in front of you, relaxed and back in control of this conversation. You were close enough that if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch you, but she wouldn’t. Not with too many eyes in the vicinity. “Does this mean you’ll allow me the pleasure of taking you out sometime?”

You lick your lips and nervously scratch at the back of your neck, which makes Emily’s eyes light up happily with the effect she was having on you. “Ah fuck it.” You twist your lips, sucking on the lower one as you find the courage to look directly into those gorgeous brown eyes that were distracted by your lips. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

I'm living for the only thing I know I'm running and not quite sure where to go And I don't know what I'm diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you

Hanging by a Moment cont. - Lifehouse

*Off-Highway Vehicle

*Children, Youth & Families Department

*All-Points Bulletin

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

Text

Stitches: Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Joel comes into the clinic after getting hurt on the job. A non-canon one shot set in the Lavender universe.

^Gif not representative of reader's appearance, just here for the vibes.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author to be paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender, QZ era

Warnings: Brief description of injury. Angst. Smut (P in V sex). No use of Y/N, Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4k

A/N: Sooooo this one got a little away from me (shocking, I know.) I can't promise all of this collection will be this long but apparently I really missed Joel and Doc. Written for @suzmagine after she requested QZ era Joel and Doc with angst and smut :)

For You Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sunday, September 20, 2015

“I’ve got one more for you,” Marta hovered outside the patient room, a file folder in her hands.

You groaned.

“Another one?” You asked. “Shouldn’t we be done for the day by now? Shouldn’t we have been done for the day an hour ago?”

“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” she replied. “I’m the one who’s been pulling double duty all day because Andrew’s out…”

“And I’m the one who’s had twice the patient load because the entire QZ has the flu,” you sighed before you pinched the bridge of your nose. This wasn’t helping either of you. “Alright, just… Please tell me this is the last one.”

“Last one,” she said. “Doors are locked.”

“Speakeasy after this?” You asked, opening the folder.

“I would but Brian and I are going to a friend’s place tonight,” she smiled, almost sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “I just need to get a life….” You glanced down at the intake notes. Just stitches and antibiotics, on order from FEDRA. “This looks basic, why don’t you head on out. I can finish up here.”

“Really?” She asked. You just nodded and she squealed a little. “Thank you so much!”

You tried to not be jealous of the fact that she had a life to go home to. In all reality, you shouldn’t be upset about staying late at work. It’s not like you had anything else going on. Once Tommy left the QZ and Andrew and Jess started spending more time just the two of them while she was down for the count because of her pregnancy, you pretty much spent your time not at work at home, doing a lot of nothing.

“I need a hobby,” you muttered to yourself before making your way down to the exam room where your last patient was waiting for you.

You knocked once on the door and gave the patient a moment to answer before you opened it, reviewing the intake notes as you did.

“Hi there,” you said, looking up from the file. “I’m….”

Your voice trailed off. Joel was sitting there, perched on the end of the exam table, his eyes ranging over you.

“Don’t think you need to introduce yourself, Kid,” he said, giving you a wry half smile.

You looked back at the file. In the name field was just J.M. - FEDRA. You frowned and looked back at him.

“FEDRA sent you in?” You set the file down on the counter before going to wash your hands. “Why, did you pick a fight with a guard?”

“No,” he quirked his jaw. “Just some equipment on sewer duty.”

“Lucky you,” you said, pulling your chair up beside the table. You sat down, closer to him than you’d been since you’d been almost blown up before Tommy left the QZ. “Well, I’m sure you’d rather see anybody else but I’m afraid there’s something going around and I’m the only doctor who’s here right now. Since you’re here on FEDRA orders, I can’t really let you leave and come back another time…”

“S’fine,” he cut you off. “It’s not… I don’t mind. That it’s you, I mean.”

“Oh,” you said, a little taken aback. You tried to hide it as you pulled on your gloves. “Well that’s… good. Why don’t take off your shirt, looks like the injury is on your stomach?”

“Yeah,” he said, unbuttoning his top. “They put a bandage on me there but said I’d need stitches and shit to keep it from gettin’ infected.”

“Yeah, I feel like dying from an infection that doesn’t turn people into monsters in this day and age is a bit of a raw deal.”

Joel snorted and shrugged out of the shirt. You saw a bandage, stained with blood, near his belly button. You winced a little, even though you’d seen so much of Joel’s blood at this point you thought you should be used to it. But it never got any easier, knowing he was putting himself at risk, knowing he was in pain.

Blood was a good distraction, though, when you thought about it. Joel without his shirt had always been a weak spot for you. Blood was one way to keep you from focusing on things you shouldn’t. Like the fact that his chest was broad and firm and you knew just what it would be to rest your head against him there and listen to the steady thrum of his heart as you fell asleep.

“I’m going to remove the bandage, OK?” You said, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. He just gave you a single nod and you pulled down the bundle of gauze and tape to expose a jagged cut that dipped into the muscle of his abdomen. You hissed a little in sympathetic pain. “What’d you do, Joel?”

“Had to jump to dodge an out of control truck,” he said. “Ended up landin’ on something sharp. Hurt like a bitch but… had worse.”

“Had worse is a damn low bar for you,” you said, gingerly examining the wound. “Good news is, this is even cleaner than I expected. Actually, you’re cleaner than I expected, you don’t smell like you were on sewer duty.”

“Yeah, well, figured patchin’ me up wouldn’t do much if I was covered in shit,” he said, voice beaten down by the misery that was QZ life. It was a tone you knew well. “Showered before I came.”

You nodded slowly.

“I’ll numb you up and get this all closed,” you said, sitting back from him. “Go ahead and lie back for me while I get set up.”

You gathered what you needed and came back to find Joel flat on the table, his hands folded over the base of his chest. The cracked face of the watch glinted in the florescent light and you tried not to think about how his arms looked bare. You hadn’t seen his arms bare in so long.

You cleared your throat and pulled the chair back up alongside him and changed gloves.

“Small poke,” you said as you injected the local anesthetic. He grunted but stayed still. You gave it a few minutes to kick in before you gently prodded the wound. “Feel that?”

“No,” he said.

You nodded and set to work, flushing out the wound and aligning his damaged skin to stitch it closed.

“So,” you said after the silence was heavy in the room. “How’ve you been since Tommy left?”

His body tensed a little.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Just a bit quiet around the apartment.”

You nodded slowly, focusing on your stitching.

“I hope you’re not just sitting in there all alone,” you said, half teasing half serious. “Even you need social contact now and then.”

“M’fine.”

There was something in his tone that made you feel like he was not, in fact, fine. As much as you tried to forget, you carried so much of the intimacies of Joel Miller within you. How he looked when his face was relaxed in sleep, how he felt when he held you like you were the only thing he had left in the world, how he sounded when he was in pain. He sounded that way now.

“Are you?” You asked, lifting your eyes from his stomach to look up his body to his face. His head was raised just enough to look back at you.

“Not your damn business what I am or what I’m not,” he snapped, lowering his head back to the exam table. “Leave it.”

“I’m just…” you paused as you finished the last stitch. “I worry about you sometimes is all. I know you don’t have a lot of people, Joel, and…”

“I’m not your fuckin’ problem,” he bit out, sitting up so fast that you shocked back from him. “I don’t need you pokin’ around my life and fuckin’ it up anymore than you already have so just leave it, alright!”

“Alright,” you said quietly, tears pinching at the back of your throat.

“You done sewin’ me shut?” He snapped. You nodded, still trying to resist the urge to cry. “Good.”

He snatched his shirt up and stalked out of the room, not even stopping to put it on.

You took a deep, shaky breath, staring at the place where Joel had just been. You tried not to think about how, for just a few minutes, there had been a quiet intimacy there like there had been with him before. How he felt comfortable and safe beside you, where you could run your fingers over his skin and see where his hair was starting to gray.

You gave yourself a few minutes to calm down before you started cleaning up, trying to focus on getting home so you could curl up in a ball in your bed where you were warm and safe, even if you were alone. You were starting to clear the tray of tools when you realized the syringe of penicillin was still there, shiny and full.

You’d never given him the antibiotics.

“Shit,” you muttered, voice wet.

You set it aside and finished cleaning up before grabbing a bottle of pain killers and an oral course of antibiotics and setting out to Joel’s place.

He answered quickly, all but ripping the door open and looking surprised to find you there when he did.

“What do you want,” he snapped.

“You still need antibiotics,” you said quietly, fighting to not flinch back from him. You held up the small bag with the syringe, bandages and pills inside. “You left before I could give them to you.”

He quirked his jaw but stepped aside, opening the door wide enough for you to come in. You set the bag down on the table and started taking off your coat.

“Didn’t say you could fuckin’ stay,” Joel said, voice still sharp.

“I figured you’d want me having full range of motion with my arms when I’m sticking you with a needle,” you said harshly before closing your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to calm down. “I need to get at the wound again so… shirt off.”

He ground his teeth but obeyed, pulling the shirt off. You sat down at the table and got the syringe ready and he stood beside you there and you had the strangest urge to kiss his stomach. You pressed your lips together instead.

“If you didn’t run off this would probably hurt less,” you said. “But the anesthetic might be wearing off already so… small pinch.”

You pressed the syringe into his skin and pushed down on the plunger. He flinched once and that was it.

“Just going to bandage you up,” you said, not waiting for a response.

“Why’d you come here,” Joel asked as you taped the bandage over his damaged skin. You looked up at him, frowning. His eyes were on yours, deep and warm and chocolate brown.

“You needed…”

“Don’t give me that,” he cut you off. “You could have fuckin’ left it, told you enough times that I don’t want shit to do with you now so why are you really here? Not like FEDRA was gonna come and check and make sure I was on their ordered drugs so what is it?”

“Do you really think I’d just let something happen to you?” You asked quietly. “You might not care if I live or die anymore but I care about you. I’m always going to care about you.”

You didn’t wait for.a response. You looked back to his stomach and finished taping the bandage in place before taking the pills out and setting them on table before getting up and pulling your jacket back on.

“Instructions are on the bottles,” you said. “Take all the antibiotics, every last one, I don’t care if you’re feeling well and your cut is magically healed, still take them. Change out the bandages every 24 hours for the first few days, come by the clinic if there’s a lot of blood or discomfort. Pain medication as needed. I’m sure you’ll just sell whatever’s left…”

You grabbed the now empty bag off the table and turned to go to the door but Joel’s hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back around. You frowned, looking at where he was touching you before looking back to him.

“Joel…”

“You really think I don’t care about you?” He asked, voice heated. “You really think I don’t give a shit? Hm?”

You shrank back from him as much as you could while he held you in place, his grip on you tight.

“Joel…” you said again but he cut you off.

“You think I don’t care if you live or die?” It took you a moment to realize that he didn’t sound angry. He sounded… hurt? Offended? Both? “Jesus…”

“You’re hurting me, Joel.”

He scowled but dropped your wrist.

“After everything I’ve done,” he snapped. “After everything we’ve been through, you think I don’t fuckin’ care?”

“Why would I think you care?” You tried to sound mad but you just sounded hurt, your voice quivering. “All you’ve done for years now is tell me how I hurt you, how you wish you’d never met me, how you don’t want to see me again! Even when you’ve done something that you say is for me or because of me you act like your obligated to me in some way but you’re not and I wish you’d just leave me alone! I can’t keep doing this with you, I’m so tired of being your burden, Joel!”

You tried to turn to go but his hands were on you again but on your shoulders this time, his fingers digging into your flesh there. His eyes searched yours for half a moment before he pulled you sharply to him, his hands flying from your shoulders to your face to tilt your head to just the right angle, gripping you tight and desperate, before his lips crashed into your own.

It took you a second to fully understand what was happening but your body responded before your mind. It might have been years since you last kissed Joel but your lips knew his. They conformed to his like the familiar ground they were, giving to the hot press of him as he licked into your mouth.

You moaned and wrapped your arms around his waist, forgetting, for a moment, that he was injured. He hissed in pain and you tried to pull back but his grip on you grew tighter, fingertips pressing into your skull. Your body curved against his and you were suddenly acutely aware that he was shirtless, that you could feel his skin on yours if you could just take your own shirt off, too.

His hold on you eventually loosened and he pulled back from you, the brown of his iris almost entirely swallowed by his pupil now as he panted for breath. His thumbs traced the arch of your cheekbones.

“I care,” he said, voice hungry and low. “I care more about you than about any other person left on this godforsaken planet…”

“Joel…” you were breathless, heat and tension pooling at your core.

“And I’m tired of tryin’ to stay away from you.”

He pulled you back against him, gently that time. His lips were soft on yours, his tongue tracing the seam of you until you opened for him. You could properly taste him now, the mint of his toothpaste and the bitter tang of liquor and the familiar flavor of his skin. You drank it up, needing it like water. His hands left your face, sliding down your body to your waist. He pulled at your shirt, separating from you just enough to pull it up and over your head, taking a moment to look down at your body, an expression of almost reverence on his face as he panted for breath.

Joel tugged you toward him again, his mouth quickly finding yours, as he unhooked your bra. He slid that off your body, too, and cradled you to him.

You moaned into his mouth, you couldn’t help it, as your arms went around his neck. His skin was everywhere, so soft and so warm and just like you remembered. He felt so good against you, like home, and the ache of missing him flared to life inside your chest, sharp and cruel.

Part of you knew you should put a stop to this now, before it went any further. He was only going to push you away again, just like he had after Boston. It was only going to hollow you out and leave you feeling more desperately alone than ever.

But you couldn’t resist him. You’d missed him too much over the years, he was too much a part of you to ever dream of pushing him away. You needed this. You needed him.

You let him guide you toward the couch, his fingers prying at the button of your jeans before pushing those and your underwear down your body, too. You stepped out of them and your shoes together before Joel gently lowered you, completely bared to him, to the rough, aging fabric of the couch. You watched as he stood over you, your eyes wide, as he opened his own pants, freeing his cock and swiping his thumb over his leaking tip before stroking himself in long, slow strokes.

“Tell me you want this,” his voice trembled. “We can stop right now…”

“I need you,” you cut him off with a needy whisper. “Please.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. He shoved his pants and underwear down before he nudged your legs apart and settled between them. He gripped the root of his thick, heavy cock and trailed his tip over your leaking slit, moaning as he did.

“Missed this wet little pussy,” he notched his head at your entrance before thrusting halfway inside you with a short, sharp stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, your back arching and fingers scrambling at the tattered upholstery. “Fuck, still so fuckin’ tight. Gotta be fuckin’ dripping for me or I’d never get inside you…”

He pulled back just a little, his thumb finding your clit and pressing into you there, working you in a slow circle. He thrust back into you, a little further this time.

“You get this soft and hot and wet for anyone else?” He asked, a possessive edge to his voice as his eyes ranged over your naked body. “Or you save that just for me?”

“Just for you,” you didn’t care that you sounded desperate and pathetic. You just needed him inside of you, filling you totally. “It’s all for you, I’ve always been all for you.”

“You all mine, Baby?” He asked, pulling back and thrusting deeper. “This little pussy all mine?”

“Yes,” you rocked your hips up against him but he pressed down on you, holding you in place and making you whimper. “Fuck, please…”

“How about the rest of you?” He asked, his hand leaving your clit as he lowered himself onto you. His skin was on yours, the plush swell of his stomach against you, his chest tight to your own. His hand came up to brush your hair back and cradle the crown of your head, his thumb tracing over you there. His eyes searched yours and, for the first time in years, you saw the Joel you’d fallen in love with so long ago. The quiet strength of him, the gentle care, the fierce love, the raw and aching whole of him there with nothing holding him back. “Want all of you, want that so much more than your perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

“Joel…”

“Say you’re mine,” he thrust deeper and you keened at the feel of him inside you, so close to having all of him within you where you’d known he belonged from the first time you’d taken him into yourself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you breathed. “I promise, you can’t lose me.”

He pulled back a little and you whimpered at the loss.

“Say you’ll let me protect you,” he thrust in, almost to the root this time, and held himself there. Your channel tightened around him.

“Joel,” you were having a hard time remembering how to say anything but his name, that single word the most vital one you’d ever known. “Please…”

“Tell me,” he ground himself against you, his skin on your clit, his cock pressing into your most sensitive places. “Let me take care of you, protect you. Say it.”

“You can protect me,” your hands found their way to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin there. “You can take care of me, I promise…”

“Let me love you,” he pulled back again but it was his words and not how he was moving inside you that made you gasp. “Say it. Tell me I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.”

You reached up and gently traced his hairline before threading your fingers through his curls, your eyes on his.

“I haven’t been the one stopping you from loving me,” you whispered.

“I never stopped,” he rocked himself part way into you again before pulling back. “Always loved you, always. But I need it to be safe, I can’t love you without it destroyin’ me if it’s not. Please, baby. Tell me. Tell me I can love you.”

“You can love me, Joel,” you said softly. “It’s safe. I’m safe.”

He kissed you, his mouth claiming yours and he pressed all the way inside you then, making your back arch and legs go tight around his hips. You moaned against his lips as he held himself deep within you for a moment before pulling back again.

It might have been years but your body knew Joel’s. You knew just how to take him and he knew just how to make you come, his hips grinding down into you when he was fully seated inside of your tight channel, making his cock tease your most tender places while his hips worked your clit. He fucked you deep and hard and greedy, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he wanted to lay claim to all of you.

The tight band of pleasure inside of you wound tighter and tighter until it snapped when he was pressed deep, your walls fluttering over him. He moaned against your lips and fucked you through it, never slowing, never letting up, making it so your orgasm never really subsided. It just rolled into building the next one until he pulled his desperate and needy mouth from yours.

“Not gonna last, Baby,” he ground himself deeper, as if to make his point. “Where -”

“Inside me,” you panted. “I need to feel you, please don’t leave, please, inside me, please…”

He kissed you again, fucking you a little harder and faster, driving the band of pleasure tighter and higher until you felt him press deep and pulse inside you, triggering your next orgasm.

You came with him, your pussy rippling over him as he throbbed, emptying himself into you.

His body went slack for a moment before he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes returning to their normal color. They looked over your face for a moment before locking onto your own and you had a moment of fear that the walls would go up again. That the cold, disconnected Joel who had taken over since he’d come to the QZ would be back. But his eyes stayed soft and open and warm, his large palm still cradling the top of your head.

“Tell me you meant all that,” you whispered even though you were afraid of what the answer was.

“Oh, Baby.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead before trailing his nose over your own. “I meant every word. I promise.”

You smiled, looking into Joel’s eyes and realizing that, even though you were still stuck inside the QZ, you were right where you belonged.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #lavender #smut fic #For You

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