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queers-gambit · 7 months

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Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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islesnucks · 4 months

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𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓵 - Mathew Barzal x Reader

Summary: what started as an accidentall voicemial to your ex boyfriend ended up becoming routine and maybe even more TW: none that i can think of

Word count: 3.9k A/N: completely made up game schedule btw

Masterlist Add yoruself to the taglist if you wanna be notified when i post the fic!

“Hey, it’s Mat.” His voice echoed through the phone, so familiar yet strangely distant now. You’d heard him speak in interviews, but this was different. He was addressing you, or at least the voicemail version of you. “I can’t answer right now, so you know what to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Calling your ex-boyfriend, the one you had broken up with months ago, wasn’t something you had exactly planned. Yet, when the acceptance email for the program you had worked tirelessly for arrived, the one he had witnessed you pour your heart into, he was the person you wanted to share it with. So that’s what you were doing, trying no to overthink it before nerves got the best of you.

“Mat, hi. This is so random—H-how are you?” Thank God he didn’t answer, you were a stuttering mess leaving a voicemail imagine if it had been him on the other end instead. “I got in! Into the program I mean. I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell you. You helped me so much before—” you cut yourself again. It didn’t feel right to mention the break up like that, but what could you say? Before I broke up with you? Before I stumbled out of your apartment leaving you behind without an explanation?

“Fuck it. I can’t do this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear and touched the red dot.

That’s it. He didn’t need to know, he probably wouldn’t even care. Who would want their ex to call to tell them they were doing great? That maybe after all the breakup was worth it because they had gotten into the program they had neglected their relationship for? Too long, right?

A second later, realization struck like lightning – you had ended the call before deleting the voicemail. It had been sent.

“Oh no, no, no!” you exclaimed, eyes widening in horror. There was no turning back. Mat would undoubtedly hear you stumbling over your words. Why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone? The last thing he needed was you barging back into his life with a pathetic voicemail about something he likely moved on from. ‘He probably already despises me after how everything unfolded, and now this’ you thought.

You were wrong, because no longer than 5 minutes after everything had gone down your phone was buzzing in your hand, Mat’s contact bright in the center as he now waited for you to pick up for a change.

“Mat.” you picked up.

“Hey. You called me?” He sounded confused, for very obvious reasons. Nevertheless it was nice to hear his voice now directed at you.

“Yeah, right. I left you a voicemail.” You rolled your eyes. At least you sounded less nervous than earlier on the voicemail, but it was not less embarrassing.

Mat’s voice came through, cool and collected. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t check. I just saw the missed call and, you know.”

“Sure, sure.” you replied, trying to sound half as calm as he seemed to be with the whole situation.

“Do you want me to hear it or …” his offer hovered in the air.

“No! I mean, I can tell you.” You cringed at the thought of him hearing your rambling voicemail. “So, I called because I just got the mail. I got into the program!”

“Shut up! That’s great! Congratulations!” Mat’s excitement burst through the line. Your heart melted a little. After everything that had happened he sounded genuinely happy for you.

“Thank you, Maty.”

Mat’s tone softened. “You deserve it, after all the hard work you put into it. I knew you’d get it.”

You chuckled, the tension easing. “I know, I know. You told me like a million times. I was just insecure.”

For a second you let yourself imagine this was under other circumstances. You were still together and he was calling you right after practice or from another city in one of his roadies. He’d come back home eventually and hug you so tight you wouldn’t be able to breath, probably lift you up and spin you around a little. You wouldn’t be able to stop laughing and-

“I know …” Mat’s response brought you back to reality. The reality in which he wouldn’t knock on your door with his arms wide open.

His tone carried an easy understanding. He definitely knew about your insecurities. They played a huge role on why your relationship was the way it was right now: nonexistent.

“So that’s what the voicemail said?” He broke the silence.

“Yeah, basically. But you know, all giddy and stuff. Really embarrassing.”

Mat’s laughter grew louder, and you could practically see him shaking his head. “Oh, really? Well, now I have to hear it.”

“No, no, no.” you protested, your embarrassment deepening. “Seriously, don’t Barzal. I know where you live.”

But Mat insisted, his curiosity piqued. “Come on! Embrace the cringe. It can’t be that bad.”

He ended the call before you could object anymore, only to call you back a minute later. Mat’s laughter erupted again as soon as you picked up, and you couldn’t help but join in, the shared humor dissipating the lingering awkwardness. If you closed your eyes you could almost picture him with that scrunched up nose as he laughed.

“The ‘fuck it, i can’t do this’ was the best part by far.”

The familiar buzz of the MSG postgame show filled the cozy confines of your living room as Mat’s name flashed brightly on your phone, catching you off guard. Shannon and Hickey were in full praise mode, replaying Mat’s epic goal on loop, and there he was, the main attraction, waiting on the other end of the line for you to pick up.

You fumbled for your phone, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you swiped to answer. “Hey, I didn’t expect your call.” you remarked, the commentator’s voices still ringing in your ears.

“Bad timing?” Mat’s voice crackled through the phone, a hint of breathlessness underscoring his words – probably still riding the adrenaline high from the ice.

“No, no. It’s just that a second ago you were on my screen falling all over the ice.” you teased, imagining his less-than-graceful moments on the rink.

“I don’t fall that much!” he argued, sounding mildly offended.

“You do, but you also score, so it’s forgiven. Congrats on your almost hatty, by the way.” You chuckled, knowing how much he loathed falling a goal short. Always so hard on himself.

Mat scoffed, clearly annoyed at missing the mark. “So, you watched tonight?”

“Obviously, I watch every game I can catch.” you replied, the excitement of the game still coursing through your veins. The thrill of watching Mat succeed, even from a distance, even after all that happened, was undeniable.

“You should come, you know. I’m sure the girls would love to see you.” Mat suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.

“I don’t know, Mat. It’s not my place anymore.” you hesitated, letting the uncertainty hang in the air. You had to change the subject before your mind started spiraling. “Anyway, why did you call?”

“Oh, right. I listened to your voicemail again!”

“So you called to tell me you haven’t actually deleted it like you promised?”

“I heard it right before the game and got 2 goals and 2 assists. I think it’ll become my new pregame ritual, honestly.” Mat admitted, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of nostalgia. Why had he chosen to hear it? That’s something he would save for himself for now. The shared memories of your past flitted between you, unspoken but palpable.

“Really? Want me to send embarrassing voicemails before every game?”

“I’d love it. Yes, please.” Mat replied with a laugh, the warmth of his laughter washing over you like a comforting embrace. The playful banter held a certain intimacy, a bridge between past flames and the uncharted territory of what lay ahead.

The banter flowed seamlessly, a blend of shared history and the current moment. The familiarity was comforting, but the unspoken complexities of your past lingered in the air, a delicate tension.

NYI vs. TBL - November 5th

“Hey, Barzy. I don’t know if you were joking or not but here’s your pregame embarrassing voicemail as solicited. You weren’t serious, right? Well fuck it, enjoy it or ignore me whatever.”

NYI vs. CGY - November 7th

“Just walked past that coffee shop where we had our third or fourth date I think. Remember how you choked over your latte when I lied and said I loved the Rangers?”

NYI vs. SEA - November 9th

“Hey, you won’t believe who I just saw. That guy that lives in the building across the street, the one that has your face tattooed on his left arm. He asked about you, told me to wish you good luck. So good luck from him … and from me. Good luck tonight.”

NYI vs. VAN - November 11th

“Hi! Your sister told me your family is going tonight, so send them a kiss from me, ok? … I-I keep in touch with her, I don’t know if you knew that or like maybe I should’ve told you? Are you ok with that? I’m sorry I just assumed you would be. Anyway, good luck! Say hi from me! Or don’t if you don’t want to-”

NYI vs. NYR - November 16th

“Dude. Rangers tonight. Don’t mess it up. May have bet on you guys with a guy from work, I don’t wanna have to pay for his lunch tomorrow. Please. Good luck, 13.”

NYI vs. PIT - November 18th

“Shit, shit, shit. Hope you can hear this before the game. I’m still getting used to the program’s schedule and all of that, I’m kind of a mess right now. Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. DET - November 20th

“Maty, hi! I know this is kind of dumb because I saw you like 10 minutes ago and I’m in the building but still thought I should leave the voicemail just in case. (Come on!) Ok I have to go, Sydney has a tone of gossip to catch me up on. Good luck!”

NYI vs. DAL - November 23th

“Hello Mr Barzal, I won’t be able to watch tonight, but still good luck! Even if you don’t win, I hope you score a goal, make an assist. That 8 game point streak you have going on is insane. I think I’ll start charging you for this if they are working so well.Good luck Barzy!”

NYI vs. STL - November 26th

“Hey! First of all, good luck! Second, I left my scarf at the Lee’s last night. It’s red, I was wearing it when you picked me up. Grace said Anders would give it to you tonight. Maybe we can meet for coffee tomorrow so you can give it back? Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. CHI - November 28th

“13, hello! I don’t have anything funny to tell you today so just good luck! Love you- shit, sorry. Habit I guess. Bye.”

NYI vs. NYR - November 30th

“You have zero new voicemails. To record a new personal greeting press one-”

You tried everything to get your mind off it, but it wasn’t working. The cup of tea was now cold in your hand and you couldn’t even pretend to care what was going on in the movie you had playing on your tv. The game had ended an hour ago but it was on replay in your mind.

It was silly to think it was your fault. You couldn’t influence the score of the match, the 5-1 loss against the Rangers wasn’t on you. However the outcome would’ve been different if their starplayer hadn’t been taking stupid penalties, losing the puck, causing turnovers. That could be on you partially.

The bell ringing caught you by surprise, almost dropping the cold tea. You got up to answer, even though you had a feeling you knew who was waiting by your building’s door.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” The familiar voice needed no introduction.

“Mat? What are you doing here?”

“Buzz me in.” he requests, and you could practically hear the determination in his tone. With a resigned sigh, you pressed the buzzer, knowing full well he wouldn’t leave until he got what he came for.

A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door, and you found yourself face to face with him. Determination was bright in his eyes, your heart started racing.

“What’s going on?” He rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed by your attempt at pretending not to know why he’s there.

“You didn’t leave a voicemail.” Mat strided in without waiting for an invitation, and the unspoken tension was palpable.

“Right, that. I guess I forgot. Sorry.” you lied, trying to sound convincing but knowing there’s no use, he’d know. You closed the door behind him almost instinctively, as if shutting out the forthcoming emotional storm that’s about to break in your apartment.

“You’ve been sending me a voicemail before every single game for the past month.” he remarked, his gaze keenly picking up on your avoidance. Frustration started to take over. He already had been in this position before, begging you for explanations and all you did was look away. “Please, don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“I got confused, okay? Why are we doing this? I’m your ex-girlfriend, I broke up with you, Mat. And now I’m going to your games and sending you voicemails every game? What even is this?”

At some point you started walking all over the living room, the distress was clear. Mat was better at hiding it, he stood still by the door like he had been since he walked in, but you could see his hands fidgeting. Neither of you had a clear head to take on what was about to come, chaos was inevitable.

“I don’t know, but I thought you liked this. I thought it was like an inside joke, our own thing.”

“It was that. But you’re not supposed to have that with your ex.” you said, trying to emphasize the last word for him, as if a reminder of your status would help the situation in any way.

“We’re friends?” He furrowed his brows, and, had it not been for the situation you were in, you would’ve laughed at the way even he sounded so unsure of what he was saying.

“Mat, come on. It’s confusing, I know I was getting confused. It started with the voicemails, which was already something, but then we’re talking every day, I’m going to your games again and team’s gatherings, we’re hanging out again. I said ‘I love you’ on my last one!” You finally looked at him, baring it all. There was only one solution in your mind and it had to be taken no matter the pain it would undoubtedly cost you. “I think it’s better if we stop.”

There was a moment of silence, he looked at you as if trying to read through the wall you were hiding behind. Trying to decipher if it was you speaking or your insecurities had taken over again. Most importantly, trying to figure out if this time he had what it took to get to you before he lost you.

“I don’t want it to stop.” he said, determination clear in his voice. In a second he closed the gap between you. The proximity caught you off guard, you couldn’t remember the last time you were this close. “Tell me you don’t feel anything.” It sounded almost like a beg, but he didn’t care.

“We broke up.” you insisted, trying to sound all resolute.

“You broke up with me.” he corrected you, his gaze holding steady, slicing through your defenses.

“We weren’t working, Mat! We could barely see each other, and when we did, we were too tired or stressed. We fought a lot. We broke up.” It sounded almost childish the way you stubbornly persisted on it, like you needed to reassure yourself more than him how things had played out last time.

“Couples fight sometimes; it’s normal. I was stressed about the playoffs, and you were stressed about getting into the program. It was a bad moment, yes, but that’s over.”

“Other problems are gonna come up.”

“We can face them together, we fight and make up. That’s it, that’s how couples work.”

You paused for a second, it made no sense to keep on repeating yourself. It seemed like he had a solution for every obstacle you presented. He had come here for answers, it was time to give them to him even if you were answering older already forgotten questions.

“I was scared, Mat. I was scared and insecure, and it felt like I was ruining it all.” Tears start rolling down your face and there’s nothing he wants more than to hug you, keep you close to his chest, push the pain away; but he knows he shouldn’t. You’re finally letting down your guard, telling him what he’s been dying to hear for months; he has to give you space to be vulnerable. “I thought it was better to break things up before they got really nasty.” your voice wobbled.

“I get it, I really do. But you could’ve told me and I should’ve been more present, not left you alone to deal with our problems. We could’ve tried to make it work. ” He looked deep into your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of understanding and unwavering love. “I know I loved you more than enough to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about how I ended things, and I’m sorry about the voicemail and all the mess I’ve caused.” You tried to walk away from him, the proximity being too much, but he caught your arm making you face him once again.

Tears started streaming down his face as you tried to grapple with the weight of your own decisions. He looked you in the eyes, the determination from earlier is still there, even behind the tears those glossy eyes told you he wasn’t gonna leave in silence like last time. This time he had to leave it all out, even if he ended up hurt in the process.

“When you first called me I was too nervous to answer so I let it go to voicemail. I think even then I knew it wasn’t over for me, I knew hearing your voice would bring it all back.” You winced, acutely aware of the emotional turmoil you’ve caused. What you didn’t know was he wasn’t worried about pain coming back; what worried him was all the love he had for you and had pushed away after the break up coming back and once again not having where to put it.

“But then I wanted to hear you, the real you, not the voicemail, so I called you. I cannot tell you how happy it made me to hear you, like my heart was beating again after months of numbness. And you were telling me this great news, when you got that acceptance letter you wanted to tell me.” he continued, and you released a heavy breath, a half-smile forming on your face. He was right, the first person you wanted to share your triumph with was him, you hadn’t thought much about it back then but no it was so clear.

“I replayed your voicemail before the game that first time because I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I heard you over the phone earlier that day, and all I wanted was to hear you again talking to me.” he confessed, a mixture of vulnerability and longing in his words. “At first I thought maybe I was making it up, you know? Maybe it was just my unresolved feelings, maybe there was nothing going on. But you called me first and then you kept on sending the voicemails. Things were going back to the way they were before. It felt like I was me again, like we were us again.”

Mat smiled thinking how everyone could notice; his friends, his teammates, his family, everyone could see the old Mat was back. He told them off, too afraid to consider you were all he was missing because he knew he didn’t have you back, not yet.

His hand gently cupped your face, sending a shiver down your spine. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch. You missed it, there was no denying it anymore. You missed it all too much—his touch, his voice, his energy, his very presence. Him.

“You said ‘I love you’ on the last voicemail. I replayed it like 20 times at least, just to hear those three words. From you, to me.” The weight of those three words hung in the air between the two of you after so long, it was electrifying. Your heart raced; he was about to say it, and you yearned to hear it.

“I love you.” he declared, and there was no ambiguity this time. It wasn’t a recall of your words; this time, it was his confession to you.

“Maty…” was all you managed to say; his nickname laden with tenderness and echoes of old fears that still lingered.

“I want this. I want you even if I can only see you two times a week and even if half that time you are studying or working or stressing over both. I want to be there with you. I want to fight and make up. I want all of it, the messy and ugly included.”

“I love you.” you finally whispered.

It was over. He loved you, you loved him, and there was nothing left to say.

In that breath-holding moment, he leaned down, his lips finally touching yours. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a wild ride through forgiveness, longing, and the silent agreement to dive back into the messy and the beautiful, hand in hand. He was smiling into the kiss, so were you. The taste of salt from their tears lingered, mingling with the sweetness of the moment. The kiss spoke of second chances and the magic of beginnings, a promise to rewrite the story that had once unraveled.

You pulled away, breathless and teary-eyed, yet a radiant joy painted across your faces. You laughed, a melody of relief and newfound hope. One of his hands was on your back as the other traveled from your face to the back of your head, pulling you against his chest. Your arms hugged his torso tight.

“I love you.” he mumbled against your head before placing a kiss on top.

NYI vs. MTL - December 1st

“Hey! Good luck tonight babe-”

“I don’t think it counts if I’m literally next to you when you record it.”

“Shush. Who’s the voicemail expert here? Me. Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted me: good luck tonight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

soooooo it’s here! hope you like it! like and reblogs are always appreciated!

it felt so good to write again and to share it too, hope i have more time this year to write more stuff

taglist:

@glassdanse @2manytabsopen @barbienoturbby @sweetlittlegingy @mcsteamylove98 @ttylfedora @chieflawyerpastatoad @iwantahockeyhimbo @fallinallincurls @jordiee95 @heatherawoowoo @barzysreputation @farabeezers @4ambagelbites @matwith1t @audryaho @maximoff-xmen @astrydis @joelsfarabees @bitchforbarzy @deloughrey @brias1201 @besthockeyfics @ya-pucking-nerd @hoiyheadharpies @mckenna4 @rosesvioletshardy @hockeyunits @siriusly-parker @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @boqvistsbabe @theycallmecassie @ephemeral371 @hal3ynicol3 @angelblooddevil @besthockeyfics @beauvertime @picked-off-by-barzal @1316 @cherrygirl1229 @lunabean @random-readers-world @poufsouffle21 @barzysbaby @matbarzal13 @alwaysclassyeagle @wanbach23 @evaggreendaily

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tomriddleslove · 5 months

Text

Pt 2 - The one that you want.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 to Hey, trouble (DELETED)

Summary: The one where just as things are beginning to look up, everything comes crashing down. Alternatively: Tension, Fluff, Angst.

A/N: This fic was written very sleep deprived so I ask you to bear with me. The second part is my favourite so just stick with it.

Songs: The Way - Mac Miller, Ariana Grande

Lover, you should have come over - Jeff Buckley

Promise - Laufey

NOTE: I accidentally deleted my account and did not have the first part of this mini series saved! I will probably rewrite it but there is some context you should know, so i’ll try summarise it as concisely as possible:

You and Theodore used to be really good friends when you first joined Hogwarts. Naturally, as you both got older, you changed slightly. Theodore came back one summer and he seemed completely different, he was not only incredibly handsome but he had generally flourished as a person. The girls all loved him and he found a new set of friends, essentially forgetting about you. Time skip a few years and you become friends with Pansy, and the rest of the group. Theodore greets you as though nothing has changed. You habour a lot of resentment to him initially, but realise you really do love chilling with the group and so you set it to the side. In the fic, you’re at a party and you head up to the roof. Theodore appears and you chat for the first time in ages. It gets a bit tense when you subtly call him out but you try brush it off as a joke. He noticed you at their quidditch practice earlier on in the day with mattheos number painted on your face, and he sounds a bit jealous. You assure him it was only for jokes, though you’re confused as to why he’d be upset. Theodore (internally ) alludes to loving you and you’re both emotionally stunted idiots in love.

AND that brings us back to now. Enjoy xx

Friday had finally come, and you couldn't think of a word that could place just how relieved you were feeling. Don't get it wrong, you hugely valued your education, and took pride in working hard, but at the end of the day, there's only so much history of magic one could tolerate before their brain tuned out. The surprise quiz you took in class today told you that you had reached that point many months ago. But it was ok, that was an issue for the future.

You click open the door to your dorm room, tossing your bag haphazardly to the side as you undo your tie, pulling it loose with a groan of relief. Pansy is sprawled out comfortably on your bed because apparently, yours was comfier (they were the exact same thing, she just couldn't be bothered to make hers in the morning.)

You flick a strand of hair that fell in front of your face with a dramatic sigh as you flop down onto the bed, lying perpendicular to Pansy as you rest your head on her lap. She has a half smile of amusement as her hand comes down to pat your head, eyes trained on her book. You raise a brow and shuffle up slightly to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.

You see the word ‘shaft’ once and that's all you need to see as you gasp with fake indignation.

“Pansy… Whilst I'm sitting here?” You groan and she grins, her face slightly red as she shrugs, shameless.

I mean, come on. You weren't a stranger to smut, but right in front of you? You grab the book from her hand and toss it across the room.

“None of that whilst I'm here. Your amazing and beautiful friend is vying for attention so focus on me.’ You say and she playfully rolls her eyes as she lies back on her bed.

“It's disgustingly hot. I can't be bothered for this year anymore. The days are as hot as hell depths and the evening has me freezing my nonexistent balls off.” Pansy moans, and you hum in agreement.

You’re grateful for your friend and her seemingly never-ending talent of speaking because you currently couldn't even muster the energy to speak.

“Do we have to go watch the boys today? Lila told me Madam Pince has charmed the library with a cooling spell. We could go there instead.” Pansy says, sitting up, and the idea is incredibly tempting. You live for nothing more than to get out of this dastardly heat, especially in the comfort of the library (Pansy and yourself had mastered the art of smuggling snacks in. The key was in making sure you triple-checked what you bought in, which you learnt after Pansy had accidentally sat on a Fizzlebees Exploding Sherbet last winter. The poor 1st year who had sat next to you was sure that there was some kind of attack and leapt under the nearest table.)

The mention of practice has your mind thinking back to your most recent encounter with Theodore. Just thinking about it again elicited that strange feeling in your stomach. You were, perhaps, close to a path of redemption (though it was more Theodore redeeming himself.)

With a sigh, you shake your head.

“We promised them we'd come. Besides, imagine the absolute havoc Mattheo will cause when he finds out we ditched for the library of all places. He would get us banned for a month, at the very least.” You say, and Pansy grumbles but ultimately knows you’re right. She sighs, muttering.

“Yes yes, I suppose you're right.” She begrudgingly admits and you grin, sitting up. You walk over to your closet, looking for something else to wear as you felt as though you were positively melting in your uniform. You flick through your closet, cursing the endless void that conveniently was full of sweaters and thick jumpers now summer has come. You dig around and find a pair of black denim shorts towards the back. You don't even know when you got them, but they fit and they'll do the job. You're thankful for the fact that you love the feeling of freshly shaven legs on your bedsheets, because heaven knows you would not bother to shave your legs for a man. You manage to find a green shirt, and you slip it on. It's nothing special really, but you weren't dressing up for anyone. You were long past those days now, you found that it was lovely not giving two shits. Pansy called it alarming, but you liked to think of it as… eclectic.

Pansy brings over her signature red lipstick (which you're sure only she can pull off) and holds your cheek in place to draw a number 10 on it, as standard practice. You reach up to grab her hand.

“Wait. Do 7 instead.” You say. She widens her eyes slightly and wiggles her brows as she looks at you.

“Oh? And why is that?” She probes and you playfully swat her, rolling your eyes.

“Theodore just asked me to. Besides we shouldn't inflate Mattheo's ego too much.” You respond a bit too quickly, and she has a shit-eating grin on her face. Pansy knows you well though, and she knows probing any further will only give her a stinging hex and nothing more, so she simply looks at you with a pointed look as she draws the 7 on instead. You watch as she traces the number 7 on her face too, adjusting her hair as she pouts and blows a kiss at herself in the mirror. You pointedly roll your eyes to tease her and she throws a pillow at you.

“Alright alright, you humble lady. Let's go.” You muse, holding your arm out. The two of you link arms as you descend down to the quidditch pitch. The sun is shining blazing down on you, and you feel uncomfortably hot and sticky within a few seconds of being outside. You truly weren't built for warm weather.

The grass on the pitch is a beautiful rich green and the sky is so picturesquely blue that it seems more like a postcard as opposed to real life. You imagine that this must be their favourite season; you had entertained the idea of watching one match in the winter season and immediately stopped after a gust of wind sent a bird flying into the girl sitting above you (You were sure it had given her that scratch on her cheek.) You couldn't cope with watching a match in such harsh weather, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how it must be to play in such conditions.

Idiots, really. They brought it on themselves. They definitely came to that realisation when they would be dragged out of bed at 5:00 am to go play in the freezing cold whilst you remained blissfully asleep under your warm covers.

You clamber up the stairs of the stands and curse under your breath. For all the beauty and wonders the wizarding world had, was it really that damn hard to have a few escalators here and there? You wanted to watch a practice game, not train to have the thighs of Hercules. You finally reach the top and shimmy down the benches with Pansy, leaning against the railing, The team was already up in the air, circling around whilst tossing the ball to one another. For all the grace and elegance Draco exuded on the ground, you couldn’t help but snicker when you catch the sight of him looking like he had slathered himself in red paint, all sweaty and grimacing; strands of his blonde hair clinging to his face.

“You alright up there Draco? Mummy forget to send you some sun cream?” You call out teasingly, and he sneers at you as Mattheo cackles, swooping down on his broom to greet you and Pansy.

“There they are!” Blaise says, a small grin on his face as he flies down to your level, joining Mattheo. You don’t even have the time to greet him because a loud gasp escapes Mattheo's lips, his hand coming out to grip your chin, tilting your face to the side.

“Traitors!” Mattheo says, eyes flickering between Pansy and yourself. You can't keep the grin off your face as you pry your face out of Mattheo's hands.

“Oh come on Mattheo. We love you all equally and need to express that love as such.” Pansy drawls, a taunting grin on her face.

“Fuck off, I'm the only important one,” Mattheo responds, puffing out his chest as he points to himself.

Blaise has to hold back from rolling his eyes, looking over at you exasperatedly. You exchange a glance with him and you feel your lips curl up into a small smile as you stifle a laugh.

“This was your doing! What did you do to them? Now I'm going to play like shit!” Mattheo whines, as he turns to look up at Theodore.

Theodore.

Your eyes flicker up and sure enough there he is. And god, how dare he look so good in this disgusting heat. His eyes are (and you have the feeling they were like that for quite a bit) trained on you, an unreadable expression on his face. He keeps his gaze on you, and you're sure at that moment he was trying to seduce your soul or play some stupid kind of mind tricks on you to have you thinking of him all day (it was working.)

His lips curl up into that godforsaken smile that borders on a smug little smirk. It has you embarrassingly weak in the knees and suddenly you're very glad it's hot, for you could blame your red cheeks on the heat. He flies down, tearing his gaze away from you as he comes close to Mattheo.

“Come on Mattheo, I’ve got an audience so I need to make sure I beat you embarrassingly quickly today,” Theodore says, egging his friend on.

“Yeah fucking right,” Mattheo says, turning to Theodore as the two engage in the most awful, embarrassing trash talk. You and Pansy exchange a glance and the two of you side-eye them with disdain.

The simple mind of boys managed to amaze you every time. Their attention span was impressively short.

Proving your point, Mattheo flies up to poke fun at Draco and Lorenzo, who both didn't seem to be holding up too well with the heat. You lean your elbows on the railing and stiffen slightly when Theodore flies up next to you. He hovers on his broom mid-air, resting his elbow on the railing in front of you. His face is incredibly close to yours, analysing your face with those sinful eyes of him which should be illegal because

Fuck, you were deprived.

“You wore it.” He says, and he sounds oddly breathless. You were assured by Blaise mere minutes ago that they had barely started practising.

Why did it seem so hard to speak? Why did Theodore seem so surprised? Why did you feel so bashful?

“You asked.” You respond, and his eyes search yours for a second before a smile tugs at his lips. His hand reaches out to cup your face, tilting it to the side as he looks at the 7 on your cheek.

Was this all it took for Theodore to touch you?

You’d have to start drawing 7 everywhere.

His fingers brush against your jaw, and you let out a shaky breath as his thumb runs along your cheek.

His touch leaves a fiery trail in its wake, and you are sure he has to be doing some sort of nonverbal magic because you feel as though you are going crazy. You resist the urge to let your eyes flutter shut because Theodore Nott simply has that effect.

He turns your head back and you stare at one another for a second more before he pulls back, and your mouth feels awfully dry.

“Mattheo smudged it.” He says, and his voice sounds slightly strained as he says so. You can't keep the corners of your lips from lifting slightly as you nod.

“Right.” You breathe out, looking at him. He grins, and this time you have to be sure you have not secured yourself a one-way ticket to the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, because you swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for a brief second before he leans back like he's been forced to do so, wordlessly looking at you once more before he grips the broom with one hand, effortlessly flying up to start practice.

You don’t even have the time to process whatever that was because your ever-eloquent and insightful friend speaks the very thoughts running through your head.

“What in the ever-loving fuck was that?” Pansy utters, eyes wide as she stares at the spot where Theodore was standing.

Amen to that, Pansy. What in the ever-loving fuck was that?

Your hand hovers over your cheek, ghosting over the place Theodore had just touched.

You part your lips to say something, but can't even formulate the words, and Pansy recognises that.

“Holy Shit! He- That-” She says, hands grabbing your shoulders as she shakes you. You're ashamed to say you needed it because you were sure you were dreaming.

“What's going on between you two? First, you’re wearing his number to the match. Then he's practically eye fucking you and you're both literally about to make out.” Pansy babbles and you roll your eyes at her dramatics.

“Oh calm down, Pansy. He barely looked at me, and he was just fixing it because Mattheo had smudged it. There's nothing going on.” She says and Pansy narrows her eyes.

“Oh yes, and I’m fucking straight. We both know that's a lie.” She deadpans, and you shake your head with an exasperated smile.

You couldn't tell whether you wanted to crack up with laughter or strangle the shit out of her. With Pansy, the line blurred more often than not. It’s why you loved her so dearly.

“Genuinely Pansy, nothing’s going on between Theodore and me. We used to be really good friends. That's all.” You say, with a tone of finality. She sighs, mumbling under her breath.

“….Painfully obvious”

“Both know that's a lie…..”

“Hopeless idiot…”

You shoot her a glare at her mumbling and she returns the sentiment with a pointed smile, enough to make you roll your eyes with amusement. You rest your head on her shoulder as the two of you watch the match.

The day Theodore had walked past you like you simply didn't exist was the day you swore to yourself you'd never, EVER, let yourself be good friends with him again. You stuck to your word always, yet this was proving to be one time where you didn't.

You prayed you wouldn't regret this, but alas, the universe is cruel at times.

The news of Draco’s father cancelling their annual summer holiday trip came surprisingly as great news to your groups as you all lounged in the library (which was as packed as it had ever been thanks to Madam Pince’s cooling charm. You all begged her to teach you the spell but she refused, and you were sure she kept it hidden to make sure people came to the library. Luckily for the group, you were one of the most conscientious students in your year, so you'd all get away with things due to the teachers favouring you greatly. A few other groups were kicked out immediately.)You all sat in a cosy arrangement in the far back end of the library. Pansy sat on the floor beside you, whilst you lounged in an armchair, feet thrown over one arm. Blaise sat on the other arm of the chair, with Draco and Theodore sitting opposite you. Between the armchair and sofa facing one another was a third sofa and a small round table. Mattheo and Lorenzo sat on that third sofa. Lorenzo stretches, sprawled out as he props his feet up on the table. You reach out and slap him with the book you were reading, and he cowers sheepishly as he puts his feet down.

“I was looking forward to summer in Versailles,” Draco complains, and you sigh. Would be nice to be able to go on such trips.

“Actually…” Pansy says, sitting up as though she’s just had an idea. Knowing your friend, you can't help but feel terrified about what's about to come out of her mouth.

“My parents have a beautiful holiday home down in France and they're going to Australia this year, so it's not being used. Why don't we all spend a week there?” Pansy says.

It's actually a very clever Idea, and a chorus of murmurs of agreement and nods echo throughout the group.

“That actually sounds good” Lorenzo says, and Blaise hums in agreement.

“I have family who live in France so they could sort out travel for us when we are there. I'm sure I can go.” Baise says and Pansy claps her hands excitedly, rubbing them together like some kind of evil genius (sometimes you were sure she was.)

“Draco, Theo?” Pansy says, and the mention of Theo's name has your eyes flickering up from your book. He's looking at you but the second your eyes meet he quickly looks at Pansy and nods, clearing his throat.

“Huh? Oh, uh- yeah.Sounds good.” He says. You lightly smile to yourself as you look down at your book.

“ I suppose I’ll tolerate it.” Draco sighs, and a chorus of groans escapes the group at his melodramatic behaviour.

“Oh piss off Draco, just admit you like us,” Mattheo says and Draco scoffs.

The boys very quickly once again get into a semi-play fight, and a stern hush from Madam Pince as she glares at the group of you sends them both sheepishly quiet. She walks away and it’s your turn to glare at the two boys.

“She may like me now, but if you two don't shut up she sure as fuck won't, and ill set your robes on fire if you force me to get through the summer whilst being banned from the library.” You spit, scolding them.

Mattheo and Draco both look down like children being chastised and Blaise has to hide his amusement as he nudges your shoulder, getting up.

“Right well, that's our cue to leave anyway. Have the real match tomorrow so we need an early night.” Blaise says. One by one everyone gets up, Pansy pushing off the floor with a sigh as she dusts down her skirt.

She turns to you, raising a brow.

“You coming?” She asks, holding a hand out and you look up, shaking your head.

“Nah. Gonna stay here for a while. Finish reading this.” You say, holding up your book with a weak smile. Pansy shakes her head with a smile, ruffling your hair (much to your dismay).

“My little neek. Have fun!” She says, and you flip her off at the comment. She grins, blowing a fake kiss back at you as she manoeuvres past the wooden bookshelves and out of the library.

You sigh and feel as though you're sinking further into the plush armchair, a pillow held to your chest as you read your book. Everything about the library was so pleasantly calming. The dim lights that cast dancing shadows of the book spines across the wall. The bibliosmia that you inhaled deeply as you lay for what felt like hours, reading whatever you could get your hands on. You’re so caught up in the allure of the library (Pansy might have a point, you definitely were a neek), that you don't even notice the presence of someone coming to sit down on the sofa next to you until the sound of the leather cushions sagging under weight draws your attention up from the pages of the book.

Seriously? Were you actually that oblivious? It was extremely alarming if you were.

You look up and see Theodore moving to take a seat on the sofa next to you. He stretches out his legs, his large frame suddenly making the space seem a lot smaller.

“Hey.” He says, and your lips quirk up in a smile as you speak.

“Hey,” You respond, folding the corner of your book.

“What are you reading?” Theodore asks, and you raise a brow.

Did he really have an interest in the book you were reading? A few years ago the Theodore you knew would never touch a book (though he would listen to you ramble on about them for an hour.)

But Theodore has changed, And so have you. He’s no longer the Theodore you knew, and the reminder turns the feeling in your stomach unpleasant.

You hold up your book, weakly smiling as you show him the cover. It was rather beaten and bruised, but you had owned this copy since your first year. You’ve reread it more times than you can count.

“Little women,” Theodore says, a small smile of recognition on his face. He remembered you, always walking around with that book. Theodore couldn’t comprehend what half the words in the book meant, but he remembered hearing you talk about it and thinking you were truly the most incredible person he had ever met.

That hadn't really changed.

“Mhmm. Must be my 5th time rereading it this year.” You say, with a small smile, and Theodore lets out a low laugh.

He's looking down at the table, and you admire the way the dim light dances along his features, making them look surprisingly soft.

“Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts…” Theodore starts, gaze trained ahead.

“......because you can't have the one you want” You finish, quietly.

Theodore's gaze drops to his hands, fiddling with the threads on his bag. The air is thick with unspoken words. A quiet dance of regrets lingers in the spaces between your words.

"Little Women," Theodore repeats, his fingers tracing the zip on his bag. "I remember how you used to quote passages from that book like they were sacred verses. It was almost like a religion for you."

You can sense the undertone in his words—the acknowledgement of a shared past that now exists as a distant echo.

The silence that follows hangs heavy.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the worn pages of the book suddenly feeling like a fragile shield against the currents of emotion. Theodore's eyes, once familiar and comforting, now carry a hint of regret and a touch of something unsaid.

"Jo March was always your favourite," he continues, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Still is,” you say, and he nods, looking up at you. His smile is tight-lipped, and you fight the urge to reach forward and massage the furrow of his brow. He reaches into the side pocket of his bag, pulling out a book.

Little women.

You frown as you take the copy from him, flicking through it. There are scribbles and annotations all over the pages.

You hate the way you instantly recognise his handwriting - another testament as to how Theodore was weaved into everything you did.

Theodore takes the book back, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. He opens the book, thumbing through the pages, his eyes fixing on the annotations.

"I've been reading it," he admits, his voice a low murmur. "Annotating it. I wanted to see it through your eyes, to understand why it meant so much to you."

You watch him, and your heart clenches at his voice. At his eyes, At the way he speaks, and the way he keeps his head down. The realisation that he held onto this piece of you, even as you both drifted apart, is enough to send you into a spiral.

"I see you in these pages," Theodore continues, his gaze locking onto the annotated paragraphs. "I see you in between the lines, and in the words. I see you in Jo, I see you in the witty comments. Every time I read this, It's like a piece of you is still here with me."

A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow hard, trying to push back the tears that threaten to spill over.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry

“Every time I read these words, I feel like I'm back with you, even if just for a moment." He admits, looking up at you.

The devastation in his eyes is surely mirrored in your own.

You want to cry. You want to shout, because how dare he sit here, and speak of you with such reverence, and act like he cares for you when he had forgotten about you so easily? How dare he say he sees you in everything he does when he looked right past you when you stood in front of him?

How dare he act like he missed you when he didn’t?

You can't say anything. You physically can't, because every time you open your mouth it hurts. Grief clings to the pipes, scratching at your throat. It restricts your breathing, it gnaws at you.

Theodore looks at you and clears his throat, quickly looking down. You fail to make out the fact that his own eyes are threatening to spill with tears, as your own teary eyes cloud your vision.

It was always like that with you and Theodore.

Amid your shared tears, the unspoken suddenly becomes the unsayable.

He gets up, and he can't bear to look at your face because every glance of those tears in your eyes eats away at his heart. He grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder, rushing out for fear of what you might say.

“See you” He murmurs, walking away. You can’t tear your gaze away from where he walks away even as his form disappears, and you swear the boy had taken part of your heart with him.

The quote “Fate was a cruel mistress” Never made much sense to you. Fate was beautiful even in its destructive nature. Fate was unstoppable, she didn't wait for anyone or veer away. You used to admire that about her. You found it to be a beautiful thing. Of course, it's because you also believe that fate would only wait for you. Wait that one extra second. Then, perhaps, Theodore and you would be on the same path. Instead, you were two, walking the same path only a heartbeat apart. As if time itself conspires to teach that love can occur in the same book, but pages apart.

You cannot love the beauty of her tenacity and cower from it too.

#harry potter #slytherin #tom riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fic #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys #theodore nott angst

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arafilez · 5 months

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☆ ⼂ THE SILENT TREATMENT ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, fluff ㅤ warnings insecurities, arguing, crying, cursing ㅤ﹢ㅤ300 per member wc

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

Silent treatment, that one thing you hated from the bottom of your heart. And Chan was giving it to you, for a small mistake.

Well, you wanted to transfer some pictures from his laptop to your phone and you almost deleted his song drafts. Almost! But he caught you in the act of restoring everything and screamed so loud it could be heard down the street.

Then an argument broke out where he argued about you being careless and you argued about how they are not deleted and that is what matters. He argued back about how they could have been and then it led to a cold war.

Right now, you were both just giving each other silent treatment, both of your egos too big to back out. But now you were contemplating whether you should because you missed him, it has been two days since you both talked.

Just then Chan entered the room as you swiftly got up and you both simultaneously spoke, "I am sorry." You were beyond relieved at this as you jumped into his embrace and he stumbled back trying to hold you.

"I am so sorry, I am stupid," you said as he stayed silent. You looked at him narrowing your eyes as he shrugged saying, "If you are waiting for me to disagree, it will be a long day."

"Well then Chan, fuck you," you said as he smirked, "Yeah we need to make up for the two days."

Placing a small kiss on your lips he said, "We need to make up for the kisses and cuddles not done in two days too," and you nodded in agreement.

◗ ៹ LEE MINHO ›

You hung your head low thinking of ways of apologising to him. Even though it was not your fault you wanted to apologise first because it was too much for you to handle.

It was not your fault that the bartender was flirting with you, you did try to wave him off.

But that persistent person did not leave you alone which made Minho pretty angry. He stared at the bartender poking his tongue inside his cheeks before he left dragging you out with him.

And you two didn't even have any argument before he started the silent treatment.

You have poked him, literally, many times and stood in front of him blocking his way trying to make him talk but all was in vain. So now you were thinking of newer ways.

You made some cold coffee for yourself and sat down sipping on it lightly and suddenly Minho took it out of your hands and took a sip sitting beside you. "You know we are indirectly kissing," you half joked wanting him to break but nothing.

What tortured you more was the fact he was doing everything he usually does, except talking to you and of course, was depriving you of any physical affection.

You clung your body to him, hugging him sideways and you thought he would get away but he made no attempts to. "Come on, forgive me already, it was not my fault," you whined right beside his ears but he acted like he was deaf, eyes glued to his phone.

"Min please, you know I can't handle silent treatment, my mom did it too and trust me it hurts, like a bitch. It is one of the reasons I never give anyone silent treatment. You know these," hurt was evident in your voice as you said all those.

Still, when you got no reaction you just had enough and got up going to your bedroom. Tears pooled your eyes because you always thought the worst and now you felt like he would leave you.

Minho, on the other hand, realised he had gone overboard and with your overthinking mind you had now broken down. He threw the phone on the sofa ran up the stairs and urgently knocked on your door.

Before doing the second knock he pushed the door, seeing it was already unlocked just to see you standing on the balcony, blinking your eyes rapidly to stop the tears.

He went up to you and hugged you from behind he kissed your neck. He felt you relax in his embrace and cleaned your tears dry before kissing you on the nose.

That was enough for you to realise he was joking and he would never leave.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

"How about you ask Seungmin to give you a ride home?" were the last words Changbin said to you over the phone. Now you were sitting in the car with him staring out the window.

There was an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air and you knew why. All because he was angry and jealous. And angry Changbin is scary Changbin.

You were laughing along every time Seungmin decided to destroy his members with his sarcastic lines, especially Changbin. But Seungmin accidentally made fun of him for being chubby which hurt him.

What hurt him more was you laughed along before you realised it now after that Seungmin hugged him which made him forgive him at once but when you decided to try that he just walked away.

And then after spending another half an hour with the 00' liners you decided to go home and here you were, in his car, when he is still angry.

"Changbin I am sorry, I didn't mean to," you said apologising to him again but he ignored you, again. You sighed throwing your head back on the car seat.

You gazed at him longingly, your eyes tracing his every feature as you put your hand on his which was free. "You look hot, driving with one hand," you voiced out unintentionally before widening your eyes in realisation.

He chuckled lowly before saying, "That is one way of making me talk." "Oh my god, you talked," you screamed in delight and you saw him pull the car to your house.

"Changbin I am sorry we joked about your insecurity, it was cruel of us," you said, being truly sorry for what you and Seungmin did.

"It is okay, mistakes happen, just I hope you don't repeat it," he says looking at you and smiling, dimples visible on his lower cheeks as you melted due to his smile.

"I promise, we won't, ever," you assured tracing your fingers along his knuckles. "Good," he smiled before leaning in and kissing you as you held his cheeks firmly, kissing him back. He parted for air but then you pulled him back, his laughter dying down in his throat.

And inside the safety of the metal bubble, a beautiful love was growing.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

Hyunjin was being overdramatic, again! It was a regular phenomenon by now, but this time it was getting out of hand. He was screaming his lungs out just because of his hair.

You both went to the grocery store before to buy some ingredients and when you were walking home rain started pouring. Now, there was no shadow in the alley and thus you both started running. But, by the time you reached your home, you both were fully drenched.

He started screaming as soon as he entered saying he was wearing an expensive hair product and now his hair will be all ruined due to it getting wait. He blamed you for not taking an umbrella to which you replied that you were not suitable to know it would rain.

Your constant sarcastic replies and eye rolls pissed him and thus you both broke out in a big argument. And then you both were screaming curses at each other forgetting what the argument was about anyway.

And now you both were sitting across each other on the couch giving the very infamous silent treatment since both of your egos were too big.

You were aware that Hyunjin was a sensitive person and constantly feared if he would start crying. If he did, then you would break instantly and you knew it very well.

And he did break down after a few minutes, sniffing lightly, trying to keep as quiet as he could. That broke your heart. All the times before he had wailed out loudly like a child.

But this time he was quiet, trying not to gain your attention and make you feel guilty. But now you were feeling guiltier than usual.

You got up from your side and sat down beside him and saw his tear-stained face. "I am sorry," he croaked out and you instantly hugged him repeatedly saying that you were sorry too.

You kissed his tears dry and placed a kiss on his nose, his two eyelids and a longing one on his lips. You pulled back but he pulled you back making him sit on his lap.

"Works like a charm," he smirked as you groaned but deep down you knew those tears were real. "You don't have to hide your pain like that Hyunjin," you whispered as he smiled at you.

"I love you," he blurred out and you replied, "I love you more." "Impossible," he said as you laughed lightly in his embrace.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

You and Han were throwing angry remarks at each other because of a stupid argument. At this point, none of you even remember what the argument was about.

After one point a very sudden stop came to your argument when you received a call from your mother. When you finished talking with her you noticed Jisung had already gone to bed.

You sighed softly before you made your way towards the bedroom and saw him sleep on one corner of the bed face turned away from you. You quickly did your night routine and sat up on the bed flicking the light switch off.

The cool breeze of the air conditioner blew in the darkroom as you contemplated your sleeping positions for a few minutes. Then you scooted closer to him before placing a hand on his hair.

Gently stroking it from the back you put another of your arm around his waist. "Ugh, I hate arguing with you, you are too irresistible to resist," you murmured as he turned towards you taking you by surprise.

"Yeah, you scared me," you laughed but he gave no response as you realised he was giving you the silent treatment. "No, please, not the silent treatment," you whined as his eyes bored into yours.

"Come on Ji, please," you threw a small tantrum throwing your body into his arms but he didn't hug back. Suddenly you thought of a plan as you started tickling him.

"Oh my god, stop," he screamed out throwing you off his body as you laughed heartily which he joined soon after. "You make it very hard to stay angry," he said in between his laughs.

He jumped over your body kissing you all over your face as you lay on the bed giggling. Giving a longing kiss on your lips you both smiled like two teenagers in love.

You loved the way you loved him, and you would gladly do it for life. So would he.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

"Well sometimes Mr Brownie Lee, I would like a brownie too," you screamed at him as he briskly ignored you flipping through the television channels.

"Oh do not even think of silent treatment," you whined as he gave no reply or acknowledged your presence. "You know what, I will make some myself," you said as you left the room gloomily.

Felix got a little concerned about you using the kitchen but let you nevertheless. After a few moments, he heard a scream as he ran towards the kitchen.

Walking inside he saw you holding your hand under cold, running water and a knife with a little blood beside it. "Why can't you be safe?" he grumbled holding up your hands and gently rubbing them underwater.

"Hey, you are talking," you exclaimed happily as he sighed kissing your forehead softly murmuring a soft 'I am sorry' in his deep voice.

"It is okay," you hummed out as he suggested, "Let's make them together after your finger is healed." You nodded in agreement, your insides bubbling in happiness.

"By the way, what were you doing with a knife for making brownies?" he asked being genuinely curious as you laughed nervously saying, "You do not have to know."

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

"No Seungmin you do not understand. I have nothing with you not holding hands or any other affection in public. But even behind the doors, you do nothing. It is not fine, I have given you three months to loosen up but sometimes I will get impatient too if you keep being so unresponsive to every affection," you screamed finally getting rid of all the frustrations in your mind.

For the first two months, it was okay, but now you felt impatient. You just wanted a simple kiss or just a hug but he did nothing. Nothing.

Seungmin stayed quiet, absorbing your every word before he left the room and slammed the door after entering the bedroom. You sat down on his couch contemplating whether you should just leave and go to your apartment or you should apologise right now. But your alter ego said otherwise as it felt you did nothing wrong.

You clutched your head in your hands thinking of ways to approach him because he would never do it to you. 'There you go, making the first moves again,' a part of your mind screamed and you just wanted to cry at that moment.

It was already two hours as the fight had ended and you were still there. You went up to drink a glass of water and after drinking you made your way towards his room.

Entering it you started talking, not exactly apologising but profusely trying to make him understand all your points as he stayed silent, not even looking at you.

"Fine, if you want to give the silent treatment, it is okay, I guess I deserve it," you sighed and left the room, well, tried to.

Seungmin quickly pulled you by your hand making you sit beside him on the bed as he said in a loud, clear voice, "I am sorry."

"Oh," you were surprised at the suddenness as he continued rambling on about how he should have been more compassionate and tried to understand how you feel. He also said that he would be more affectionate from now on.

His never-ending speech was boring you so you quickly pecked his cheeks and he stopped talking, staring at you with those puppy eyes.

You thanked the gods for making these kinds of ideas actually work in real life but the thinking process was cut off again.

Seungmin leaned in towards you, his lips ghosting over yours as he asked with a whisper, "May I kiss you?"

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

"You are always busy, you either have a big project coming up, or you have tuitions, or you have college classes. I realise it is hard for you and thus I do not meddle with anything you do. I do not drop you off at college because you are afraid of scandals. I do not meddle when you mix with your friends. I just want some time for myself, please. Is it too much for you to give? Because if it is then we should break up. I mean I am an idol who hardly gets any time and whenever I do, you are busy. In the next months, we will be on tour and I will not see you. But you know what? Nevermind!" Jeongin inhaled sharply after the long speech.

He left the room leaving you dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Your mind has stopped working as you thought of multiple ways to make this up.

You closed your laptop and scurried towards your room only to find it locked and you could hear Jeongin's sniffles from inside which broke your heart.

You felt guilty for what you have done because he was right. He was not those annoying boyfriends who were all over their partners' lives.

He did give you space, a lot. But you have just been increasing that every day. You sat down outside the door leaning on it as you could still hear him crying.

You patiently waited for him to open but he ignored all your calls and messages. An hour later he did open the door.

But he wasn't talking. You made multiple attempts to get him to talk and make him stop giving you the torturous silent treatment but none worked.

"Please Innie, I am sorry, I promise I will make up for every single moment I have missed, just please don't leave, I can't live without you," you choked out as a tear rolled out of Jeongin's eyes.

He turned to you hugging you before saying, "Do you know how much I love you to leave you?" you cried with him as his shirt got wet and whispered 'I love you too'.

Maybe, this time, you both will give effort to this relationship.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤit was supposed to be really angsty but meh i can't write without fluff ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months

Text

choices and livestreams (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb wants you back in his life, but have you already put him in the past?

notes: i know i said no more posts until after the holidays but i got this done early so here it is, also i felt bad leaving you with the carlos angst then saying peace out

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! masturbation (m & f), sex toys (dildos)

prev part next part

Sebastian sat at his computer and watched as Daniel played with you. He brought you over the edge again and again and again, and Sebastian couldn’t even get hard. He tried to tease himself, to slowly stroke his cock up and down, when that didn’t work he tried just wrapping his hand around himself and just jerking himself off, but still nothing.

The only parts where he would feel himself twitch with interest was when you had the vibrator taped to your leg. His cock would stiffen as he watched you come undone, then immediately soften when Daniel walked back into the shot.

He groans as he rests his head on his desk. He glances back up at the screen when you scream out during your last orgasm. He feels himself stiffen as the camera moves to show all of your release leaking out of you. He could get off if he just replays this four second clip over and over.

His jaw clenches when he hears Daniel’s voice.

“You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

His words make Sebastian want to throw his computer against a wall.

He rolls his eyes as he sees all of the likes the video has, but feels a sense of pride wash over him at some of the comments.

where is sebastian?

daniel fucks her fine, but sebastian really knew how to wreck her

this will be fine to jerk off to until we get more videos with bunny and sebastian

Sebastian glances at his phone next to him. For what must be about the twentieth time today, he thinks about texting you. You’ve gone radio silent since leaving his house last week, and he’s started to really miss having you around.

He types out a quick text, just something saying hello, and that he enjoyed your video with Daniel. He stares at it for a moment, then huffs and deletes the message. He very much did not enjoy your video with Daniel. And what kind of masochist would he be if he told you he enjoyed watching someone else fuck you?

His phone buzzing pulls his thoughts away from you. There’s a notification from the girl he had recently filmed with. It’s got a link to their mew video, and a few flirty emoji’s.

He feels his stomach churn, remembering their filming day. It didn’t come as easy as filming with you did. She was trying way too hard to please him, and he seemed out of it almost the entire time, but with some skillful editing it made a half decent video.

He swipes the notification away, and opens your messages again.

Hey, I haven’t heard from you in a bit, how is everything?

He presses send before he can overthink it, deciding that even a sliver of attention from you is enough to make up for any consequences that could come from trying to get closer to you again.

You’re with Daniel when you see the text from Seb. He’s leaning back on his couch, with you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. He’s got an arm thrown over your shoulder, while his other hand draws patterns along your arm. He put on a movie for the two of you to watch, something that you really hadn’t been paying much attention to.

Daniel doesn’t want to seem nosy, but the scowl on your face is worrying, especially because you’ve been staring at your phone for the past few minutes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, shifting slightly.

You shake your head and sigh. “Nothing.” You toss your phone to the other end of the couch and bury yourself further into Daniel’s chest.

“C’mon sweetheart, I can tell something’s bothering you.” He says.

“It’s nothing. Seb just texted me.” You tell him quietly, your eyes locked onto his tv.

“And it was a bad text?” He strokes your cheek softly.

You turn so that you’re now laying on him, chest to chest.

“He said he hasn’t heard from me in a while and wants to know how everything is.”

Daniel hums. “And how is everything? If one were to want to know.” He feins disinterest in your answer, but holds his breath waiting for a response.

You slowly start to smile. “Everything is going well, I think.”

He lets out a breath and flashes you his own grin. “Good, I’m glad.”

You spend the evening with Daniel, cuddled up on his couch. You try to focus on him, but you just keep thinking about Seb. He’s made himself within reach again, but it could end up the same way it did last time. Is risking your blossoming relationship with Daniel really worth taking that chance?

A part of you feels guilty when he asks if you want to stay the night and you turn him down. You can see the disappointment flash across his face, but he quickly hides it.

You bid him goodnight with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him alone as you drive back to your own home. You throw your things down on your couch and pull your phone out of your pocket as you make your way to your room.

You type out a reply to Sebastian, then set your phone face down on your desk.

I’m good, how are you? I can’t really talk right now, I’m about to film a livestream.

It’s meant to be a harmless text, but a part of you knows that you want his attention.

You change into a pretty baby pink lacy lingerie set. You set up your camera and laptop and check to make sure you’re camera ready. You start your stream and watch as your usual viewers start to join. You make a few flirty comments, telling them how much you missed them.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to join, or maybe just hasn’t read your text, so you start with your stream without him. You tease yourself through your underwear, letting out breathy moans when your fingers brush against your clit.

You pull your panties to the side and push a finger inside of yourself. It does almost nothing for you, so you push a second in as well. It’s not at all comparable to Seb or Daniel, but your viewers seem to be enjoying it from the tips they send you.

After a few minutes you pull your hand away from your cunt and reach next to you for a dildo. You’re drawn to your purple one, the length reminding you of how deep Sebastian was able to push inside you. But you spot your blue one too, the girth would stretch you out and really give your viewers a show.

You hold the blue toy in front of your camera, showing it to your audience.

i can’t wait to watch her fall apart on that dick

there’s no way she’ll be able to take that

You set the dildo up on your floor and raise yourself above it. Your eye catches a comment before you lower yourself down.

be a good bunny schatz - sebv

You flush at the comment. A new wave of arousal rushes through you as you lower yourself onto the silicone toy. It’s a struggle to take it, the head stretching you out more than you have before. The pain quickly turns into pleasure as you ease yourself lower and lower on the toy, until it’s fully sheathed inside you.

You pause as you look back up at your camera. You look wrecked already, your eyes half lidded as your mouth hangs open.

“‘S so big.” You moan.

You read another comment from your computer that makes you clench around the toy.

such a good bunny, taking that dick all the way inside you. now bounce on it sweetheart - dannyric

You bounce up and down on the dildo, moaning out as it stabs at your soft spongey spot over and over again. Tears fall from your eyes, the pleasure is too much.

“Please, please, may I cum? I want to cum so bad!” You beg.

You don’t know who you’re asking, you mind far too cloudy to be thinking straight, but your eyes search for the two usernames that send you over the edge.

cum for me bunny - sebv

you’re so pretty when you beg, you can cum now bunny - dannyric

You cry out as you reach your peak, your body losing control, and all sense of pace as you ride the toy through your orgasm.

You clench around it as tips come flooding in. You slowly lift yourself off it, whimpering at the empty feeling between your legs. The dildo is coated in your milky white release. You lift it up and lick a long stripe up the side, moaning at the taste of yourself.

You flirt a little more with your viewers, then say goodbye and end your stream.

The clean up process is lonely, you try to keep your balance as you lean against your bathroom counter, wiping up the mess between your legs. You change out of your lingerie and throw it in your laundry pile. You reach for a sweater in your closet, but pause when you see what’s before you.

Folded on one of the shelves is Seb’s sweatshirt, the one he let you use the first time you filmed with him. The grey fabric is soft between your fingers, begging to wrap you up and keep you warm.

Hanging up on the rack is Daniel’s hoodie. He insisted that you hold onto it for a while after your night at the diner. It still smells like his cologne, well his cologne and a slight smell of the diner food you shared with him.

Your heart aches as you look back and forth between the pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab a sweater of your own, refusing to make any decisions tonight.

You grab your phone from your desk to see two text notifications.

From Seb

That was a fun livestream schatz, you really know how to put on a show

From Daniel

You could’ve done your livestream at my house sweetheart, I would’ve enjoyed a live show

You leave both boys on read, and climb into your bed. You hope that tomorrow you’ll have a clearer mindset about what to do next.

#sebastian vettel x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #sv5 x reader #dr3 x reader #formula one x reader

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ymiko0 · 5 months

Text

A/n: request! I had to delete the draft so I unfortunately dont have the ask...but I do remember what the ask is about!

Tags: breeding, creampie, afab!reader, mating press (guess my fave position lol), mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex (I dont condone this action),

He grips your thighs harder, your knees almost touching your ears as he continues to drill in you. Your eyes swelling up with tears and sobs escaping your sore throat.

Dazai moaned, unrestrained as he kept slamming his hips against yours, his balls slapping against your slicked bum, the air filled with the smell of arousal and wet slaps.

He loved the way you felt around him, your walls fluttering around his shaft, providing the warmth he oh so longed for. He cages you between his arms, placing his weight on you as he pounded into you with much more fervor.

He cant stop— he doesn't wanna stop. The feeling of needing to fill you up everytime just grows as he does so.

Dazai was never a man who wanted children, he thinks it's a ridiculous idea for a man like him to have offsprings.

Thats why when you asked him to cum inside you— he hesitated. He was afraid of what might come after. The thought of having children scares him.

" O-oh..! Fuck—! "

But your reassurance gave him the push to spill inside you.

And he was ecstatic.

His eyes rolled back as his hips stuttered and jittered, it felt amazing. Filling you up while feeling your walls clamp around him was euphoric.

Is this why some people loved to have children so much? Because he sure is convinced. This practice made him feel so much closer to you, he grew to love it so much to the point that he doesnt waste his release anymore,

He wants it inside.

—his excuse? Lesser mess.

" Haah..— oh fuck—, fuck, fuck, fuck—! " he let out breathy moans, he was nearing his release again.

" ah—! O-osam—..h! "

you interrupted yourself as you felt him rub your clit, your legs shaking from his hold as his pace began to loose consistency.

He kissed your swollen, red lips, a subtle action thanking you for this moment.

" Oh! Fuck— fuck fuck! y-y/n! Oh gosh you're so— "

You felt his pace falter and hips shake, he let go of you legs and placed them on his shoulder, kissing you once again as he stilled inside you, deep and felt his essence paint your insides.

He stilled his hips against your entrance, still folded in half and still clinging onto him.

You both bask in the aftermath of the climax, feeling his cum spill out of your abused hole, muttering a few words of praises against your ear.

But after a few seconds of composing himself, he began slowly rolling his hips again.

he whispered to your ear as he began to pick up his pace.

" ....just one more yea? Bella'? "

Hes addicted.

A/n: I personally think dazai doesnt want children...but would think about it if his spouse wants them! Very ooc as usual h a h a.

Fuck counter: 8

#bsd smut #ymk0》works!#bsd dazai #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #dazai smut #ymk0》asks!#dazai osamu

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drunkfrogg · 3 months

Text

time zones | charles leclerc

pairing: reader x charles leclerc

summary: different time zones keep getting in the way, and charles realises it isn't sustainable.

warnings: a little bit of angst never hurt anybody, did it?...right?!

note: first fic in a long time. enjoy! <3

MASTERLIST

7:02am.

Charles stared at the blurry numbers on his phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen and the sunlight pouring into his bedroom. He squeezed his eyes shut when he noticed the notifications from you. Three texts, two calls. All unanswered.

The first text, at 11:58pm.

I just finished work. I'll call you on the way home. Can't wait to hear your voice. I need it.

Charles' chest hurt. 11:58pm, minutes after he must have dozed off. He had tried so hard to keep his eyes open but his day had been so long and sleep was fighting a good battle against him.

At midnight is when the first missed call came through. It would've been 5pm for you. You would be getting out of work and Charles would be about to get into bed. You would've just got to your car, set up Google Maps, and called him. That was the only time you could find to chat to each other lately, and Charles had missed it.

Worse yet, he let you drive home with the disappointment of waiting all day to hear his voice, only to still be alone come night time.

Twenty six minutes later, at your 5:27pm and his 12:27am, the second text came through.

I made it home safe. I saw you got P2, congratulations! Very well deserved my love. Are you still awake?

That's when the next call came through.

Charles knew that you'd have been upset when he didn't answer. He knew you'd be holding back the intrusive thoughts. The what-ifs, the tears, the disappointment. It would have been keeping you up much later when you'd be trying to sleep. But he knew what was really eating at you was the hope that he would wake up and light up your phone with an incoming call.

He knew it was true when he saw the text at your 11:03pm and his 6:03am.

I think we've missed each other tonight. I was looking forward to hearing your voice, but I hope you celebrated that win well. Congratulations on P1 my love, well deserved. Goodnight.

He stared at the time of your last text, your 11:03pm and his 6:03am. One hour ago. You'd barely been asleep for an hour and here he was waking up to start his day. By the time you'd wake up, he'd be in meetings. By the time he'd get out, you'd be in work. By the time you'd finish, he'd be going to sleep.

Charles squeezed his eyes shut. Distance was never easy, but this wasn't the first time you'd missed your small window to talk to each other. It had been happening a lot lately. He knew it was hurting you because it was killing him.

He opened the tab on his phone of flights that neither of you could take. He was stuck where he was, and you were stuck elsewhere. There was never time. Something always changed the circumstances for the worse, and Charles sank his shoulders in defeat.

He deleted the tab on his phone.

Opening your messages, he sent his own reply.

Good morning, mon amour. I'm sorry we missed each other last night. I hope you're sleeping well. I'll call you after you finish work.

He stared at your missed calls again. There was nothing he could do except stare at them and wish they weren't real.

The alarms he forgot to set would have urged him out of bed over half an hour ago, and so he got himself up and dressed for the meeting he was about to be late to, but he couldn't open the door of his lifeless hotel room.

Guilt gnawed at his stomach. It wasn't fair of him to make you live this way for him. You deserved more than a short phone call every couple of days, and he realised that the only way for that to ever change was if you were here with him.

But he knew deep down that following him around the world wasn't what you wanted. While he could give you security, he couldn't give you stability. That's what you wanted more than anything, and that's when he finally realised, after suffering the long distance for so long, that there were two things in life that meant most to him.

The job and the girl.

He wanted both. But as he opened the door of his hotel room, he realised he could only have one. He had to pick. But he knew it wasn't really a choice. There was only one option.

And it wasn't the girl.

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

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love-lilly02 · 2 months

Text

The Challenge— Chapter 9

When you died, you were going to have an all white funeral.

It was something that had been decided by your entire family, not even by your agreement but by tradition. According to them, a funeral was a celebration, not an occasion to be sad.

When you joined the 141, they were required to ask how you wanted preparations to be set up, if there were any “special requests.”

Your mom answered that one for you.

Never in his life did Gaz actually assume he would show up to a funeral in white.

He almost thought he would have to do it.

“This is bull shit!”

Soap’s yell snaps Gaz out of his thoughts, and he looks back at where the man is sitting on the edge of his seat yelling at the others in the room. Specifically you, who’s sitting there half in tears. If your laughing or crying is still completely unknown to him. “That clue is bull shit and you know it.”

“I’m literally HANDING you the answer!!” You yell back at him, almost choking over both your words and laughter at the same time.

“NO. YOU ARENT. THAT ANSWER IS SO SHITTY A TOILET WOUKDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!” Soap hollers back, and the rookies explode with laughter.

“ITS A FUCKING MOVE THEY DO!”

“I don’t know what the fuck a pas de deux is but it does NOT. EXIST.”

“Bitch i was one of these hoes for twelve years, I WOUKD KNOW”

And so it continues. It had started out with a simple game between the four of you, well, three considering Si opted out, but it quickly turned into a good natured screaming match over the game. Headbands always turned out like this though, at least whenever Soap played.

“Thirty seconds, suds.” Price grumbled from the couch, and you snapped your fingers quickly, trying to think of something to give him a hint.

“Fuck uhhh, okay The Nutcracker?”

“Actor?”

“No, no but you’re close. They move around a lot more?”

“A soldier.”

“No, damnit. Like, like— fuck, fuck!! Okay pink fluffy skirts-“

“DANCER!”

“Yes!!” You scream, and you both jump for joy. Everyone in the room cheers, and Gaz even notices Ghost crack a smile under his mask.

“Fuckin ‘Pas de Deux’ what kind of a clue is that” Soap grunts, knocking back another drink. You just roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“It’s literally a dance move everyone knows. I could have said pirouette and you still wouldn’t catch on, I don’t see a difference.” The silent insult makes him chuckle, and Gaz’s smile widens.

“Lay offit ay? Not my fault nobody knows dance terms.”

“I actually knew that.” Gaz pipes up, and Ghost nods in agreement. “It is a pretty common dance move.”

You throw your hands in the air as if to say see fucker, I was right.

Soap just rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t know you danced,” Gaz said, lifting his drink to his lips. He tries to ignore the way your eyes follow the movement, or how it takes you a few seconds longer than usual to respond.

“Mhm. Did it with my sister for a while. Wasn’t very good, unfortunately.” Gaz nods, humming.

“When’d you quit?” He asks, pretending to swirl his drink around in the glass.

You eye him suspiciously, trying to blink through the haze the alcohol has made in your mind. “Few years back, round the same time I enlisted.”

Gaz nodded. It felt wrong, using you for information like this. But this had become more than just some challenge for him, it was genuine curiosity. Like there was a constant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t get to die down unless he got some answers.

Usually, Ghost was the tech person. He would be the one to hack cameras, snoop on people, be the physical stalker. The problem they all ran into, though, is that a lot of your life was online. You were the youngest of them all, younger than Gaz even, and while they gave you shit for it, it meant you were way more online than they were.

Because of that, they couldn’t rely on just your files to tell them everything. There was a world hidden somewhere in all your deleted accounts, messages encoded in emails and photos from after your graduation. Piecing them together was too big of a job for one man alone, especially men of their age.

So they didn’t do it alone.

It took your near death experience to make grown ass men to realize how fucking stupid they were being about this. Simon said it himself, the 141 didn’t operate by itself. It was a team. They were a team. They did things together, which meant they would get their answers together. It also meant they would get to share you at the same time, but that wasn’t a foreign concept to them.

And none of them really had an issue sharing with each other.

That night, after everyone else had turned in , Gaz got to work. He used the best lead of you he had (your beginning of the year photo for Junior year, taken just before everything disappeared) and worked his way down. He flew through all of your files, finding names, dates and addresses. Long ago he figured out that numbers were the most important thing in a task like this. Without them you could get nowhere. He followed paths he had taken dozens of times, different directions to get to the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything there. Just like you predicted, it all stopped at your junior year.

This time, though, that wasn’t what he was looking for.

Once he hit that wall again, He went back and retraced his steps. He included references to clubs in his search, finding every extra circular at your school and looking into their history. Nothing came up for a long, long time.

It was nearly sunrise before he found something. Normal people would have seen this and not batted an eye, but Gaz was too keen in his research to miss it.

In an article about your schools dance team, just a few months before graduation two names glared out on the screen at him. Your name, and someone else’s who rhymed quite well with yours. The gears spun in his head, and he laughed to himself in pure shock.

They were on a a wild goose chase for the wrong person.

It explained why he was physically unable to find anything on you, because he wasn’t even looking for you in the first damn place. He was tracking down your sister.

He took the two names and pasted them into his system, hitting enter on the keyboard.

Over three hundred search results came up, but only one caught his eye.

“Local College student gets killed in school shooting, family is left devastated.”

He might have to do a bit more digging than he thought.

Finding the photos was the easy part. Now that he knew who you were, they were everywhere. You really had gotten up to a lot behind their backs, you had at least tried out every club once and volunteered everywhere in your damn state. It was impressive that you managed to switch personalities so quickly, going from someone so loud and outgoing to… well, you. He knew hiding this much information wasn’t easy, having to go under an alias a few times to escape capture taught him that the hard way. But you did it with ease, as if you…

Oh.

He had to tell Price.

AN: if you can spot the audio reference and tell me which audio it comes from, who made it and give me a time stamp i’ll post the next chapter early (as in; as soon as i see the ask/comment)

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader

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keeryscharm · 4 months

Text

Devil At The Drive-In

Title: Devil At The Drive-In

Pairing: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Gator are on a date at the drive-in but his thoughts aren’t on the movie

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), naive!reader, virgin!reader, mentions of dub-con, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink

Notes: I originally wrote and shared this fic on a now deleted account. I don’t think it’s still out there, but if it is, I’m the original author. This is just a slightly reworked repost. Also, I don’t have a proof reader, so please be gentle.

“Gator, stop!” you giggle, scrunching down in your seat as your boyfriend presses his face into the crook of your neck, peppering the sensitive skin with a series of rapid-fire kisses. Holding your bag of drive-in popcorn in one hand, you playfully bat at Gator’s chest with the other. “Watch the movie, silly boy”

With a grunt, a dejected Gator slides back to his side of the backseat before reaching for his large cup of Mountain Dew. This is the second time tonight his advances have been thwarted and the movie isn’t even half finished. For once the young deputy is starting to doubt himself.

The drive-in had been Gator’s idea, of course, as were all your dates. He never asked your input, knowing you’d agree to whatever he chose. Why wouldn’t you? He was a catch. Probably the catch of the town. A deputy, the sheriff’s son, strong and driven. A real man. Of course, he’d hung around the store you work at for nearly a weak, falsely claiming shoplifting was on the rise in the area, before finally getting the courage to ask you out for coffee. But that wasn’t important. What was important was, despite the brief time you’ve been together, Gator is certain you are the one for him. You’re pretty, sweet, loyal, and, thankfully, naive as hell.

You always listen wide-eyed to his stories about life as a small town cop, believing every embellished word that falls from his lips. “You’re so brave”, you’ve said more than once, awe dripping from your voice. You spend your lunch breaks bringing him a homemade lunch, barely having time for two bites of your own, because he lied that all the officers’ wives and girlfriends did the same. Gator had no doubt you were the one he wanted and now he was ready to lock it down.

For most men in the town committing to a woman involved a trip to the fancy jewelry store one town over and trading two months of salary for a sparkling engagement ring. For the less traditional men it means shopping for a home together, ring or not. To Gator Tillman it means only one thing - getting you pregnant. He wants you walking down the aisle with his baby inside you and not a chance in hell of ever being free. You’ll quit your job, close out your bank account, and be completely dependent on him just as God intended. His little housewife, scurrying around the house each morning as you hurriedly cook his breakfast and iron his uniform, your big, round belly leading the way.

As a boy Gator had heard his father lecture on the “sinful nature” of the local drive-in. The crumbling parking lot was practically a relic even then, but still, his father warned of how easy it was for a woman to give into a man during a drive-in movie. Drive-ins allowed cars to become bedrooms on wheels, Roy proclaimed to the young men who were gullible enough to listen, tempting even the most virtuous woman to give away her precious flower in the heat of the moment.

Now, casting a sideways glance to watch you reach for a piece of salty popcorn from the greasy paper bag, quickly licking it with the tip of your tongue before sliding it between your glossed lips, Gator is sure his dad is full of shit. He’d got further with you the night of the county fair, when he’d won you not one but two stuffed animals, and you’d let him grind against you until you became convinced you were going too far and frantically begged him to stop.

As Gator pretends to give a damn about the sappy romance film playing on the large screen, his mind wanders to how he had intended for the night to go. A far more interesting film begins playing in his mind.

“Gator”, you pant, lips wet with saliva, your naked breasts heaving. “We shouldn’t. I - I want to save myself.” Staring down at your concerned face in the dim glow of the drive-in screen, gaze unwavering, Gator’s fingers continue their assault of your clit. “Shhhh, it’s okay. You were saving it for me, y/n. The man you’re meant to be with, right? To marry? Baby, I’m here. You’re mine. Just trust me” He pulls back just long enough to free his cock from his underwear and doesn’t even try to hide his wolfish grin as your eyes widen. “You like what you see, sugar? Think you can take all this?” He pumps his length twice. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit”

Gator runs a hand up over his face, skimming his slicked back hair, before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The stirring in his pants is not easily ignored but his thoughts are not deterred.

“Oh my god, Gator!” you mew. Your nails leave trails of angry red lines down his back, making him curse and hiss in painful pleasure. Your face is screwed up in obvious discomfort, makeup running, as your virgin cunt struggles to take his generous sized cock, but you clearly don’t want him to stop anytime soon. Squeezing your face, Gator coos condescendingly, mouth hovering over yours. “You like being so full of me, princess? I bet you’re glad you waited for a real man, huh? Gonna wanna fuck all the time now, I bet. Always gonna want it raw like this so you can really feel me” Half nodding, half tugged downward by Gator’s hand, you shake your head in agreement.

Gator’s cock is straining against his jeans, now achingly hard. He masks a groan with a cough as he squeezes himself through the denim. No matter how invested you are in the movie you’re sure to soon notice your boyfriend’s raging hard-on. And yet the thoughts roll on. He thinks of all the places he can fuck you after he’s got you addicted to his cock. You straddling his lap and riding him in the back of his patrol car. In his bed while his father is at home, clasping his hand tightly over your mouth. Maybe he’ll show up when it’s your night to close up after work and bend you over the counter. He’ll take you wherever he can, as many times as he can, until he’s sure he’s knocked you up. He sees that day so clearly in his mind.

“Gator, I - I have to tell you something. Um…” Your eyes are clearly red from crying. “I’m pregnant” You say the words like they should be a surprise, as if your boyfriend hasn’t been constantly fucking your brains out and telling you not to worry your pretty head about birth control. Even now you look so damn innocent. “My sweet girl”, Gator whispers, pulling you against his chest, placing a hand under your chin to make you meet his gaze. “This just means we have to have that wedding a little sooner, that’s all. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna take care of you” His hand rests on your belly. “I’m gonna take care of both of you”.

“Really? You’re not mad?” Your tear-stained face lights up in obvious relief. So. Fucking. Cute.

“Of course not, y/n! I’ll even go with you tomorrow to hand in your two week notice”

“Oh, I don’t have to quit, Gator. I can -“

“Easy, sugar, let me handle everything, okay? You don’t wanna stress the baby, do you?”

A throaty groan escapes Gator at the thought of accomplishing his goal and this time it catches your attention. When you ask if he’s alright the concern in your voice is so genuine Gator can’t control himself. In one quick motion he grabs your hand and presses it to his erection. A gasp and a soft, surprised whisper. “Gator…”

“You feel that, baby? That’s all because of you. That’s what you do to me. You gonna take care of it for me? Let me make you feel good so I can feel good too?” He punctuates the last word by forcing your hand to squeeze his hard-on. A moment later you shyly nod, leaning forward to offer your slightly parted mouth. Gator’s kiss is all tongue and teeth.

“I’m gonna take care of you, y/n”, he moans into your mouth, gently pushing you down on to your back. “Just trust me, baby”

#gator tillman #fargo fx #gator tillman x reader #my fics #joe keery

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damiansgoodgirll · 3 months

Note

damian fingering reader to sleep because she’s tired but she can’t fall asleep because it’s raining please 🙏

i love your stories so much

i wrote this but this app decided to delete it so i had to write it again🥹

‼️smut so stay away kids

damian priest x reader

kiss me, goodnight

“oh come on!” you screamed when you heard another loud thunder coming from outside.

is not that you hated storms but you were tired, you just came back from australia and in those three days trip you had slept just a few hours. you really needed to sleep but the weather decided otherwise.

damian chuckled when he heard you. it wasn’t a big storm, it was just a really loud one.

“don’t laugh” you said irritated making him laugh even more.

“i’m sorry mi vida but you’re acting like it’s the end of the world…” he softly laughed when he sat down on the bed next to you.

“i’m really tired dam…” you whispered “we’re moving again in two days and i have an important match and i wanna be ready but i can’t with this weather…”

“i know baby…come here” he opened his arms, helping you lay your head on his chest “just close your eyes and focus on something that makes you happy, a happy place, a happy memory…think about that” he whispered kissing your head.

“fine…” you said and did as he told you.

but it wasn’t that easy. it was working at first but the second a loud crash came from outside, your body automatically tensed and your eyes opened. you pretended everything was fine but damian saw how tense you were and he felt sorry for you, knowing how tired you were.

you closed your eyes again and went back to the happy memory you were thinking about before. if you couldn’t sleep at least your mind would have kept you company.

in your mind you where still there when you felt damian’s hand playing with your shorts.

“dam?” you whispered clearly tired.

“ssshhh…go back to sleep amor…i’ll take care of you” he whispered while his hand moved the shorts and panties down, leaving you half naked under the blankets.

“dam what…”

“i’ll help you fall asleep if you let me” he whispered into your ear making you shiver.

“o-okay…”

“good girl” he kissed your cheek while his hand slowly moved to your pussy.

his thumb moved gently on your clit, slowly. maybe too slowly, almost like a lullaby.

you couldn’t help the soft moans that came out of your mouth. everything was overwhelming.

he slowly helped you opening your legs a little more “te amo mi vida” he said kissing your cheek and slowly biting it.

you were lucky you lived alone, otherwise you would have scared your neighbours away with the pornographic moan that came out of your mouth when damian’s middle finger thrusted into you.

“oh fuck fuck fuck” you kept moaning. it was almost like torture. his thumb still moving slowly on your clit while his finger was moving way too fast inside of you.

“you like this uh?” he asked you, a smirk on his face as he already knew the answer “can you take another one for me princesa?” he whispered. you nodded, too overwhelmed by pleasure to think straight.

a second finger and you were already losing it.

“dam…is too much…”

“do you want me to stop?” he asked you.

“no fuck - no…keep going” and that’s what he did.

“so good amor…so fucking good for me” he whispered again your skin. his hot breath was making you shiver from head to toe. his teeth gazing at your ear and neck, his tongue sucking and licking the sweet spot behind your ear that always made you go crazy.

a third finger came inside of you and that was enough to make you cum hard around his fingers.

“oh shit…” you moaned when you felt he wasn’t stopping.

“another one please…give me another one princesa…” he said adding more pressure to your clit, making your legs tremble.

“dam…”

“i’m here love” he whispered. your hand got around his neck, pushing his face over yours, meeting his lips in a hot kiss.

“fuck damian i-i can’t…” a tear escaped from your left eye.

“come for me baby…” he said looking straight into your eyes and that was enough to squeeze his fingers inside you.

now, you were tired and over sensitive.

“you okay?” he asked, slowly moving his hand away from your pussy.

“fuck…yes” you said breathless.

“tired enough?” he asked while prepping your face full of kisses.

“i think so…”

of course, that night you slept like a baby.

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cal-flakes · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ “accidents happen angel”

warnings: light swearing, just fluff.

summary: rafe comes home to a tearful y/n and stained rug. (this was an anonymous request, but i accidentally deleted it instead of answering it.)

her feet jumped around the room as she twirled in another bout of pent up energy. the playlist she’d put on echoed through the house as she sang along breathlessly.

she’d had quite a boring day, rafe was out doing business with barry, so she used the time alone to clean his house. having gutted every single room, putting things in new places, moving furniture, she finally decided to take a breather. which in her eyes, was dancing around the living room until she was completely out of breath.

smooth operator blared through the expensive sound system as she gesticulated furiously, mindlessly acting out a music video as she whirled around the coffee table.

just as the chorus was coming up, she let out a yelp as she knocked into the coffee table, knocking her coffee off in turn. “shit! shit!” she froze in place for a split second, unsure of what to do before running the the kitchen.

grabbing armfuls of cleaning products, she rushed back through to the living room. sucking in a harsh breath, her and the now coffee stained, white rug had a minor face off, the costly material taunting her.

she fell into a cross legged position beside the stain, half-arsedly reading the instructions on the backs of the various bottles now scattered around her.

she began scrubbing furiously, attempting to lift the stain before it dried, but she only seemed to be making it worse.

some time had passed before her arms began to quiver, worn out from the frantic cleaning.

she didn’t know what to do, her heart pounded in her chest as she repeatedly checked the time on her phone, nearing the time rafe usually came home.

tears brimmed along her waterline as a suffocating panic washed over her. it felt as though the room was closing in on her, and the music still blaring didn’t help at all.

her fingers brushed against the once-soft fur rug, grabbing at it in an attempt to ground herself.

her chest only tightened further when she heard the front door open and close, his footsteps getting dauntingly closer.

she could hardly see through the hot tears as they cascaded down her flushed cheeks. she must’ve looked a mess, curled up on the floor against the couch, her hands covered in cleaning products.

his footsteps came to a halt in the doorway, his eyes widening at the sight. “y/n?”

her heavy breaths and sniffles gave her away immediately. rounding the couch, he looked between her and the stain, furrowing his brows in confusion. “y/n, what happened?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

struggling to string a sentence together, incoherent babbles fell from her lips as she looked up at him, the skin around her eyes red raw from rubbing.

he placed a gentle hand on her cheek, cupping it as he knelt beside her, not caring for the brown liquid seeping through the leg of his suit pants. “angel, i can’t help if i don’t know what’s wrong..” he muttered, guiding her to look at him.

unsuccessful in his attempt to calm the sobbing girl, her blubbering only continued, her hair now falling from the bun she’d carefully crafted earlier. “i-i..”

“shh, baby. deep breaths m’kay? can you do that for me?” he cooed. she nodded slightly, mimicking the deep breaths he also began to take.

after a couple minutes, she reached a hand up to wipe her nose as she avoided his gaze. “i..i spi-stained the rug..i kno-knocked my coffee..” she sighed, her thoughts still slightly jumbled.

“i can see that angel. are you hurt? where’s the glass?” he questioned, his attention now drawn to the rug, scanning it for loose shards. “i had to put it in the trash, it-it smashed..”

“that’s okay princess, as long as you’re okay..” he mumbled, pulling her head into his chest. twisting her face, she met his eyes. “b-but the rug..i ruined it..” she whimpered, tears threatening to spill once again. “i don’t care about the rug baby, i didn’t like it anyways”

“pinky promise?” she whispered, tilting her head at him. chuckling to himself, he withdrew his hand from her cheek, reaching his little finger out to interlock it with her. “i pinky promise angel, we can go into town to buy a new one tomorrow, m’kay?”

shaking her head in agreement, she leaned into his touch, inhaling his scent, allowing it to invade her senses. “come on, why don’t we have a shower?” he suggested, pulling her to her feet.

“are you saying i smell?” she frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“like bleach” he joked, poking fun at her misuse of the surface cleaner.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #dom!rafe #rafe obx #soft!dom rafe #dealer!rafe #soft!rafe cameron

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yevmarie · 3 months

Text

My Angel. My Devil.

Pairing: Scud x Female Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, terribly written smut, unprotected piv, swearing, drug use (by reader as well), bad English (not my first language).

A/N: well, it's my first time in writing smut in English (as if it could be better if I wrote in my first languages, lol). So, if this post is deleted after some time, just know that I felt cringey. YOLO.

You lost count of which round it was as your consciousness had left your brain as soon as you took the first hit. You were rolling your hips on top of a whimpering overstimulated mess called Scud lying half-upright on the couch of your tiny apartment in the warehouse where you worked for Blade. Scud's arms are weakly holding your hips, the head is fallen back on the throw pillows, and some of the hair strands are stuck to his sweaty pretty fucked out face. His eyes are half closed, mouth babbling something inaudible, that used to be pleadings an hour ago.

This evening could've been the same as others if Scud hadn't offered you pot again while you both were working on the tech stuff Blade needed so much for his next mission.

“How the hell can you work stoned?” you asked irritated as this kind of ‘ritual’ when the guy offered you smoking was always repeating day after day. And your answer was always 'no'.

“C’mon baby, you’re always so tense and serious. Why don’t you let yourself relax?” Scud answered in a muffled drawl keeping a blunt between his lips while he was soldering a circuit.

And the reason for it was having a really bad crush on him. A workplace romance wasn’t what you planned as Blade paid you much. So a one-time stand with the colleague you fell for was strictly forbidden by yourself. But your pretty obvious ignoring attitude wasn’t helping, let’s say it was even encouraging for Scud. And today was the day you completely gave up. That was true you needed to unwind.

“I want to relax but after I finish programming these microcontrollers,” you sighed concentrating on the code you wrote.

“You’re always saying so,” you heard his desperate and upset voice which you couldn’t handle anymore.

“8:00 PM at my apartment, snacks on you,” you replied after several minutes of silence between you both.

“Hell yeah!” he answered happily, “Baby Scud knows how to relax. You won’t regret it, sweety.”

You were ignoring him though you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The rest of the workday you were just only thinking how to quickly spend time with him and send him out of your room until the worst happens.

At 8:00 PM sharp you heard knocks at your door. Opening it you saw smirking Scud holding shopping bags full of food.

“Have you robbed the supermarket? This is the week ration for a family of three,” you said gesturing the man to come in.

“That’s literally us with B,” he winked and went further into the apartment where a big couch and a massive coffee table were standing in front of the wall where some music videos were projected. The room was also lit by a dull light bulb from the kitchenette.

“Don’t be so grumpy, Y/N. Lemme help you switch off,” he put the bags on the coffee table and put out a cigarette case and a lighter from his jeans pockets. “And I don’t know what you like, so…”

You went past Scud and sat down on the couch inviting him to join you.

“Video games, cartoons, films? Any preferences?” you asked looking at the guy picking out a blunt from the case and passing it to you.

“This is your evening, you choose,” he grinned watching you picking the blunt in your fingers and placing it between your lips. Seconds after he lit the blunt and you made a light drag not to cough immediately. You held your breath to let the weed do its work and passed the blunt back to Scud.

“Then let’s watch a film,” you said exhaling and took a remote control to choose one.

You slightly leaned back to the table to light another blunt. Taking a hit you held your breath and leaned forward turning to Scud. You hooked his choker with your finger and pulled his face to yours while you started riding him again. He opened his eyes just a bit, his mouth agape. You leaned closer so your lips barely touched his and slowly puffed the smoke into his mouth. He was inhaling while you felt his cock twitching inside you. You let his choker and laid your arms on his shoulder for steadiness and continued sliding up and down his length. A small whimper left Scud’s mouth.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“You’re high,” you let out an obscene moan feeling you are about to reach your climax.

“Jeez…” Scud suddenly grabbed you tightly to lay you on your back and started thrusting into you.

“Sc…” your mouth was immediately covered with his lips and tongue kissing and licking you sloppily. His thrusts became faster hitting your sweet spot each time. Scud feeling you clenching around him uncontrollably put his thumb on your clit to draw circles applying just perfectly enough pressure.

You started clawing into his back overwhelmed with sensation when suddenly your body exploded with unbearable excitement. Everything became dull, blurred. It’s dinging in your ears, the heart is pumping so fast you thought it would break your ribcage, your whole body is trembling. You were suffocating, drowning in the waves of pleasure.

Almost passing out after your release you felt a sudden emptiness followed by Scud’s moans. Through your half-opened eyes, you saw a lewd scene: panting Scud rolled his head back, his chest heaving, his left hand squizzing the throw pillow, his right arm was tensed as he was stroking himself letting out strings of his warm cum on your lower belly. The scene that you imagined so many times during lonely evenings pleasing yourself. After he finished he plopped himself on the couch and pulled your weak body on top of himself.

“You’ll get dirty,” you said in a tired voice only earning a chuckle from him.

“Let it be the worst thing between us, babe,” he kissed your swollen lips passionately caressing your hair and your back.

#scud fromeyer #joshua fromeyer #josh fromeyer #scud smut #scud x reader #scud blade 2 #blade 2 #norman reedus #Spotify

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pamelasmuse · 10 months

Text

You Are In Love

Dbf!James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get caught in the shower with James.

Warnings: Light smut, angst and like fluff. Also not proofread.

A/N: This is based of a childhood movie of mine. Can anyone guess it? (Hint it is 2 words and starts with J) Also you are so lucky this fic saw the light of day bc the 1st time I wrote it I didn’t save it and the 2nd time I deleted it on accident.

You felt like you were in a dream. Something you had fantasized about for months now. Not having to hide. Your dads would hate to see you with someone older, not to mention someone married, and that someone was their best friend James Potter.

Your dads were in London with Harry and James wife (soon to be ex) was in Scotland. So you had absolutely nothing to worry about. You were so happy so happy you could finally date like a normal 19-year-old.

you smile and look down at the pink milkshake in front of you. Breakfast was your favorite meal, because you could order super sugary items.

“How is your childish breakfast?” he asks, you smile at him. “ you better be careful who you’re calling a child, James because if I recall correctly, you were inside me less than 30 minutes ago.” You pause for dramatic affect. “ I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.” Now you’re the one smiling

James is a little embarrassed, but he takes it in good fun. You motion to his matching strawberry milkshake. “ if mine is so childish, then why did you order one?” James looks down and smiles.

“ because I know you.” he stops. “ I know that you wanted a milkshake for breakfast and that you wouldn’t order one if I didn’t order one.” Your heart swells with love and happiness that you have finally found someone who gets you who loves you.

“Aw thank you” you smile you look at him for a while just memorizing his face thinking about how amazing he is “daddy” you add. Now it’s James turn to react his face is red with embarrassment and he’s coughing.

It wasn’t a uncommon for you to call him daddy, but it was in common for you to call him that outside of the bedroom. “ not here.” he warned gone with his loveing tone now it was replaced by a stern mean man you didn’t know

“ I’m sorry daddy” you smiled. To anyone passing by it just seems like an innocent smile, but James knew you, and he knew that you were starting some thing. Just then the waitress came over and in that same movement you had slipped off your shoes and one of your feet had started running up the seem of James pants.

James can think straight maybe that was the lack of blood circulating his brain since it all had bled to his lower half. “ did we enjoy everything” you and James nodded to the lady. He handed her some cash, his hands shaking, because at that moment you’re toe had touched the tip of his boner

“ keep the change” James yelled just wanted to get out of there. And she turned around he got up. “ come on.” He yelled at you. When you finally stood up, he grabbed your forearm pushing you towards the door.

“Ow that hurts” you whined. James laying down breathing into your ear. “ well, maybe you should’ve thought about that, princess because now I think you need punished.” You tried to hide your smile as he escorted you out.

* * *

When you had finally reached James and Lili’s townhouse, he pushed you inside, and then the door was shut he push you against it. His lips immediately attacked yours. It’s like he was sucking your air.

He began to kiss down your neck until he reached your(his) shirt, he pulled it off quickly, revealing the pink bra you had worn the night before. It was a surprise for him a surprise, and a thank you for having the house to yourself, and it made him harder

He kissed on your chest until he got to the top of your boobs, then undud your bra. He sucked on your nipple, causing a few moans. You pulled back for a second pulling off his shirt.

He grabbed your hips. Pulling you in and kiss you harder. “ this isn’t much of a punishment.” You quip he looks down at you smiling. “ I promise princess we will get to that.”

He starts to push you towards the stairs. You are halfway up when he finally discard his pants. Then you start to work on yours. But then you hear the door knob start jingle and you here, an all to familiar voice.

“ James” you hear your dad yell. You look at James your face panicked. You start to run up the stairs but you trip on your jeans James picks you up rushing you to the nearest room.

When you are safe in side, you start to listen. You can hear your dad mumble probably confused why there are so many clothes on the ground. But then you hear a smaller voice.Harry.

And finally you can hear your dad “ why don’t you run upstairs and use the bathroom, then we will go.” You look like a James finally surveying the room, you are in, the bathroom.

“ he’s going to come in here” you whisper yell at James. He was thinking quick he moved you into the shower. “ What are you doing?” James hurried in with you. He put a a finger over your mouth, his hands snaked behind you turning on the water. You try to protest but he kisses you to keep you quiet.

He finally pulls back “ we’re just gonna pretend I’m taking a shower”. He winks you. It feels like an eternity when you finally here a little knock. “Daddy?” You hear little Harry say. “Yes?” James calls out. “ I need to use the restroom.” Harry says.

“ OK son just hurry.” James says he looks down at you and your soaked clothes. Any smiles you hear Harry open the door and lift up the toilet. He does his business and Just then James calls out “don’t flush” but it’s too late he’s already done it in a matter of seconds you can feel the burning hot water hit your back

“Ow fuck” you scream out. James hurries and put his hands over your mouth pleading with you Harry stand back, looking at the shower curtain. “Daddy? Is mommy in there?” James is frantic, trying to think of what to do.

“No just me” he yells back. He shakes his head and walks to the curtain trying to open it you quickly try to pull it back, but it’s no use. Harry Pulls it open, revealing his dad in boxers and you in just jeans. You quickly cover your chest.

Just standing here knock on the bathroom door as if this couldn’t get any more mortifying and awkward. “ come on Harry we don’t have all day.” And then you hear the door open near met with your father is modified look as he sees you, his little girl with his best friend.

❤️😭😬⚠️

#harry potter #remus lupin #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black smut #sirus black x reader #artists on tumblr #remus lupin smut #halloween #ryan reynolds #dbf!james potter #james potter smut #james potter x severus snape #james potter fic #dads best friend james potter #sirius x remus

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