#callers App
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i love watching in realtime when the delivery driver realizes they've got the wrong address
#they called me twice and left empty voicemails#bc my phone decided not to tell me i was receiving a call. which it does sometimes when it decides you must be a spam caller#and then when i called back they didn't bother answering and just let the phone ring eternally#but then they finally buzzed my apartment so im assuming during that time they were driving back to my apt building lol#i want to blame them but the skip app literally tells you to pull into the driveway for the building nextdoor. so. i can't.
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hello how is everyone!
think i’ve played roughly about 6 hours of the sims today partially being baked by the sun and then greeted with sodding rain but that is currently how i am filling my time in limbo between happenings in my calendar and finding a job!
#swissy rambles#ah the wonders of graduate life#getting 20 linkedin messages a day from random recruiters looking for cold callers#no thanks!!#in other news i made some sims for the new lovestruck dating app#fun!
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Why is the "Phone" app of my phone not working fgdsghjdk
#I can receive calls but phone number and name of the caller isn't visible#and if I go to the app it's just a void so I can't call anyone
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I decided to enter @your-old-sins-tournament with my first oc Shadow
#she's my pride and joy#i used to rp with her all the time on some coloring app caller recolor or something#*called#oregano's ocs
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I like to think that Damian isn’t trusted to have his own phone so he constantly steal his older brothers phones
Tim: I’m starting to run out of phone storage
Bruce:then delete the apps you don’t use
Tim:I can’t
Bruce: why
Tim:baby bats got mad at me when I delate a few of his apps games so he switched my coffee supply with decaf coffee
Bruce: oh how that go
Tim:I slept for 12 hours straight
———————————————————————
Jason working on his motorcycle in the batcave he went to check his phone
Jason: god dammit not again Damian give it back
Damian is chilling in the vents playing among us
Jason: Damian where the hell are you
———————————————————————
Dick is the only that doesn’t mind Damian bowers his phone however he does mind when Damian just hangs up incoming calls
Damian face timing Jon: ugh hold on this guy keeps calling again it’s annoying
Dick sighing: you can’t hang up my incoming call
Damian: they should know there being rude I’m face timing Kent
Dick looks over who’s calling and panic : shit shit shit give me the phone give me my phone
Dick take the phone away from Damian
Damian: hey I was using it
Dick: how many times you hang up on the caller
Damian still reaching for the phone: I stop counting after the 10th call
Dick: you hang up on my boss 10 times!
———————————————————————
After a few more times Bruce bought Damian an iPad but its age restricted so Damian still sometimes steals his big brothers phone
#damian wayne#dc comics#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#bruce wayne#batboys#batfam#Damian acts like a kid
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I AMMMM! - 🌺
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Hi! Can I request 4. Using each other’s phones without supervision with Lando? I think it would be really funny and cute 🧡
Crazy Ex ☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
4. using each other's phones without supervision
↺ ln x reader ・❥・
↺ fluff + humour ・❥・
masterlist ☾☼
lando was on stream with max f and ginge. like he usually was. y/n had learned early on in their relationship that if lando was "busy", it either meant that he was on stream, or he was sleeping, or he was quite literally in his race car, ready to go out onto the track.
y/n's finals had just gotten over (thank fuck for that) and now she was catching up on all her unread books with a gin and tonic in her hand. she was dressed comfortably in lando's tshirt and a pair of shorts. he had cuddled her up in a fluffy blanket to make sure that she was comfortable, but she knew he didn't want to be disturbed, and the best way to keep her occupied was to drown her in blankets with a book (or books).
y/n had lost track of time as she read through the gripping, swoon-worthy romance. only when her stomach grumbled did she realise that it was well after eight. digging her phone out from the mess of blankets, y/n looked for their usual order. frowning when she couldn't see the past orders on the app, y/n sighed, leaving her cocoon as she stood up and entered lando's gaming room.
"why do i keep dying?" lando screamed at the screen. y/n held back a laugh, as she was sure his friends were as well.
she looked around the room for his phone. there weren't a lot of places where he could have kept it in the room, so she gently tapped lando on his shoulder and he abruptly stopped screaming as he turned to look at her.
"oh, hey, babe! whatcha doin' here?" lando asked with a huge smile on his face.
y/n smiled at his sudden mood shift and softly said, "i need your phone."
"oh sure, baby, one sec," he said, as he looked around his table and found his table from under the pile of food packets and energy drinks cans.
"there you go, love," he said, as he handed her the phone and then turned back to the game.
y/n pressed a kiss on lando's head before exiting the room. she was already unlocking his phone and opening the delivery app. scrolling through, she found their past orders and quickly ordered food for the two of them.
settling back into her pile of blankets, she had lost the motivation to read further. the only thing going on in her head was food, so instead, she opted to scroll on tiktok. unlocking lando's phone again, she quickly found the app and began scrolling. her food was going to take thirty minutes, and she knew doom scrolling was the best way to pass the time.
max f's texts were ruining her doom scrolling, though. he texted every few seconds, and after she read the first message that only said "muppet", she knew it was going to be about something stupid. she was not bothered enough to move or let lando know. he was on stream anyways.
an hour later, y/n had eaten her dinner, watching a show on lando's phone, and was just beginning to settle into her book again when lando's voice rang through the apartment.
"babe? can you come here please?"
sighing, y/n picked up her tiramisu and walked towards his gaming room. lando smiled and extended his hand towards her, which she gratefully took. pulling her towards him, she settled on his lap, sitting sideways.
lando's hands were gripping her thighs and her waist, making sure that she wouldn't fall.
"what's up?" she asked.
"has max been calling me?" lando asked. he looked amused.
y/n took a bite of her tiramisu. "i think so? he started texting you like a crazy ex partner, and then i started watching a show so your phone switched to dnd,"
"yeah, but my calls would have gone through if his phone was on dnd, y/n!" max's said from the stream.
y/n clicked her tongue, feeding lando a bite of her tiramisu, "no, it didn't. if it had, i would've picked up, max,"
"so, you're telling me that i'm not in lando's list of callers when he's on dnd?" max asked, shocked.
ginge was laughing in the background.
"wait, you can do that?" lando asked.
"lan, you set it up yourself. your parents, your siblings, carlos, oscar, daniel, max verstappen, andrea, will, zak, and i are in that list. you added it yourself." you said, still too focused on your almost finished tiramisu.
max was screaming, and lando was laughing. you hadn't said anything wrong. it was the truth. you were there when lando had set it up.
lando was giving excuses to max, and max was refusing to acknowledge any of them.
"hold on, hold on, guys," ginge said, shutting the two up.
"what?" max was still mad.
"y/n, you had his phone with you for an hour and you didn't do anything?" ginge asked.
"i doom scrolled on tiktok and then watched a show on netflix." you said.
"you know, most girlfriends, when they have their boyfriend's phone unsupervised, they would read through their chats to see if there's a crazy ex or something," max said.
y/n nodded, "he does have a crazy ex. you, max. you blew up his phone more than i ever have. you were already in the stream, why blow up his phone?"
lando laughed, his shrieking laugh that you loved so much. "oh, i love you,"
"i know,"
"i got locked out of the house and i needed lando to get me the spare set of keys!" max exclaimed, laughing.
"keep a rock outside your door with the key. that'll help." she said, deadpanned.
the three boys erupted in laughter again. the chat was going crazy. but, all y/n could think was that her tiramisu was over and she still wanted more.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
hey! im so sorry it took me so much time to write this! my mid semester exams are going on! i hope you like this! i am also drinking a gin and tonic right now, and i also miss my tiramisu. i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#ln4#formula one#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando x y/n#lando norris fluff#☾☼#✧.*
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send nudes • bang chan
M D N I 18+
Summary: You accidentally send a nude to Chan and well…he takes it as a chance to act on his hidden feelings
WC: 2.4k
Tags: smut, afab!reader, dom/tease!chan, porn with little plot, piv, unprotected sex (just don't), fingering, oral (f & m receiving), creampie, mutual pinning(?), handjob, chan is a tease, reader calls chan; chris, chan, christopher, channie), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), not proofread, im prob forgetting some- sorry (brb gonna touch some grass)
“Shit shit shit!” You quickly pulled your shorts back up as panic spread throughout your body. You quickly look at the open messages to see if the picture has been seen yet. Ugh this is why you don’t send nudes! You screamed at yourself. About twenty minutes ago you were flirting over text with this random guy from tinder when it started escalating into pictures being sent, you took a picture and was going to send it to him but you unknowingly sent it to your best friend.
You hadn’t noticed until about five minutes ago when the tinder guy hadn’t replied yet, you noticed the notification of the image sent was under Chan’s contact and well now you’re trying to figure out how to delete the picture.
You already tried deleting it from your messages but that only deletes it on one end not both.
Suddenly the ringing of your phone fuels the flames of your anxiousness. You dwell on whether you should check the caller ID, peeking at the screen your heart drops, it’s Chan. “Oh fuck.” You snatch your phone, not answering it, before running out of your dorm, down the hall towards Chan’s dorm. His dorm isn’t far from yours so by the time you get there your phone is still ringing. As it’s about to hang up you finally answer it, banging on the front door.
The wood door swings open revealing a confused Chan. God you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
“Hi,” Chan chuckles, not acting like he’s seen something that he wasn’t supposed to, you sigh in relief, “I was about to text you-”
“Don’t do that!” You cut him off, pushing past him to grab his phone. “Hey?!” He exclaims after you snatch his phone, Chan makes a move to grab but you quickly dodge him, opening his messages app.
“Don’t delete it!” Chan huffs out annoyed. You stop, dead in your tracks, Chan takes the chance to take his phone back, shoving it into his pocket. “What do you mean don’t delete it.” You burst, heat spreading throughout your face like a wildfire. When did he see it?! You thought to yourself as you took out your phone and looked back on your messages, it displayed ‘read 1 minute ago’.
“Chan…” You push, when he doesn’t reply simply wearing a smirk on his face you start getting even more flustered, “Christopher! What do you mean don’t delete it?!” Your face is as red as a tomato at this point, your heart pounding so fast you can feel it in your ear.
Chan lets out a bubbly chuckle, you only ever use his real name when you’re either pissed or are in a teasing mood- you are not in a teasing mood, “I’ve got blackmail. And besides, it's fun seeing you flustered.” The smirk he wore was just straight up menacing. “This kind of situation is weird and makes me flustered- Did you just save it?!” You shriek as you watch him take out his phone and scroll through your texts. Chan smirks at you as he shows his phone’s screen, the save button clearly pressed. “Why would even- Chris!” You cry out his name, he finally puts his phone down on the desk by his bed with a shrug.
“You forget I’m a man.” You stand crossed armed as you stare at your best friend, “Yeah okay, but keeping a nude of your best friend is kinda weird.”
“Would you rather me send you one too?” Chan asks calmly as if it weren’t the most absurd thing he’s ever said. You scoff, eyes blown out by his question, sure Chan’s a flirt and likes teasing you, but it's never actually gone this far between the two of you. Just a simple mistake opened this pandora box.
“Who was that meant for anyways?” The Australian asks, sudden curiosity leading him on. “That’s none of your business-“
“Well you sent me the photo, I should at least get an explanation, no?” Chan raises his brows. “The guy from my date the other day.” You admit embarrassingly, Chan lets out a laugh while shaking his head, “The one that you complained about for the next three hours after your date.”
“I was bored okay!” You throw your arms up in defeat, plopping down on his bed.
A few moments of awkward silence washed over the two of you- well more awkward for you- before your phone interrupted the silence. You checked the notification, rolling your eyes as you opened the message from Chan. Holy shit. The grasp you had on your phone loosened as the electronic tumbles onto your face, smacking you right on the forehead. “You that shocked by the picture?” Chan hums in amusement. You gape at him after massaging your sore forehead, “Well no shit, you just sent me a dick pic!” You shove your phone in his face.
On the screen was a picture of Chan’s crotch area. His gray sweats not hiding the boner he obviously sports, his veiny hands holding onto his intimate area. A sudden realization dawned on you, “Did you just take that?” You stared between him and the same colored sweatpants that he wore. Now it’s his turn to be flustered, sure he had fun teasing you but now thinking about it, it wasn’t exactly appropriate to take a dick pic in front of his best friend even if she wasn’t aware of his actions. Brushing it off, Chan shrugged with a smug face.
“God you’re infuriating sometimes.” You shake your head. “Oh c’mon, you can say it’s hot, your’s was. It’s the reason I’ve got a bone-“
“Chan!” You squeak, your hands covering your face. Chan was too blunt for you sometimes. “You still need help with this?” Chan says, gently guiding your hands down from your face to show you the picture that you had sent him earlier. You pout, thoughts in your head weren’t lining up to how your body was reacting, “Help?” You shake your head in confusion trying to understand what his words meant. Chan hesitantly trailed his hands to your inner thighs, instinctively you spread them apart which he takes as a go-ahead.
“Wait, wait, wait!” You stutter, realizing where this could be going, “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t wanna.” Chan said, retrieving his hands from your legs. The warmth of his hands still burning your skin despite them not being there anymore. “No, I wanna-” Your mouth moved quicker than you could process, you slapped a hand over it. Chan raised a brow at you in his regular teasing manner, you simply shook your head at him, “Chan…you’re my best friend, I don’t wanna change that.” That was a lie, you did want to change that, you really want to change that, but losing Chan was something that always prevented you from ever telling him how you felt.
“Who says it has to change?” The curly haired boy leans over your body, dipping his bed at the weight. Your hands come up to his shoulders, not knowing whether to push him away or bring him closer. “Chris.” You sigh, eyes closing in thought. “Keep your eyes close, if you want me to stop just tell me…okay?” His words fanned across your cheeks as he spoke softly into your ear. You squirmed at his words but nonetheless kept your eyes shut.
A sudden touch to your thighs made you flinch, the hand hesitantly tapped your knee for your consent, nodding in response. Chan let out a shaky breath as his hands nudged your thighs apart, revealing the wet patch that stained the lining of your shorts. Did you get turned on by the tinder guy? No, it was by Chan and his insufferable teasing, he’s what got your arousal pooling. Chan hums, his breath breezing over your hot skin, sending shivers down your spine. “This okay? D’you trust me?” He asked as his fingered trailed along your throbbing cunt, you bit your lip in pleasure, nodding frantically, yearning for more friction.
Chan begins rubbing his thumb in circles on your clothed clit while his other fingers slip between your slick folds that stick to your panty. Moving your loose shorts to the side, you feel him dip his head down, licking a stripe up your cunt. “Channie.” You whine, hands flying to his curls, entangling them with your fingers. The sudden rush of pleasure has you opening your eyes, the sight of your best friend’s face between your legs, lickking at your most intimate area sends another wave of arousal straight to your core. Your thighs instinctively tense around his face, Chan gaze lifts to you at the action, locking your eyes and you're done. Chan’s eyes stared into you longingly, the smirk that made his way to his face when he sneakily maneuvered your underwear to the side had you writhing under his hold.
Chan continued his assault on your cunt with his mouth, sucking at your clit, swirling iit around your fold. His fingers brought you even closer to the edge as they ever-so-often sunk inside, never past his fingertips as if he was teasing you. That familiar knot formed in your stomach as your thighs began to shake, the movement not going unnoticed by Chan. “S-Stop!” You say closing your legs in an attempt to get him off, he sticks to his previous words and obliges to your command. “You okay?” Chan looks at you, a pang of worry flashing in his eyes, his mouth and chin was wet with what you’d assume is your arousal and his saliva mixed, he subconsciously licks his lips as you stare at them.
You nod in response before climbing onto your knees pushing him back onto the bed, “What are you- Y/N?!” Now it was Chan’s turn to turn pink, his heart pounded in his chest as he watched you pull the waistband of his sweatpants down revealing his hardened cock. “This okay?” You ask innocently, contradicting your actions. “Fuck yeah, this’s okay.” He sighed.
You stared at his dick, the very same one he had sent a few minutes ago, you never thought you’d ever be in this position with Chan. The tip was leaking with precum and the veins on the side evident from the lack of friction, he wasn't too big like the ones you’ve seen in those exaggerated pornos but he’s definitely above average. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, pumping it a few times, precum coating it making it easier to slide up and down. “Jesus, fuck, you’re so pretty, such a good girl, baby.” Chan rambles as you lean down, placing a small kiss on the tip. Tongue trailing down along the veins before coming back to the tip and taking it into your mouth.
Rolling his head back in pleasure, Chan gently takes a fistful of your hair so that it doesn't get in your way. You hum in appreciation. Chan almost cums, the vibration of your hum going through his shaft towards that knot forming in his abdomen. Hollowing your cheeks, you attempt to take more of him but Chan stops you, pulling you off of him with a pop. “Why’d you- mmph.” The feeling of his soft, plump lips cuts you off. His lips were gentle yet rough against yours, lust and desire making the kiss messier. Without your lips coming apart, Chan guides you to the bed again, laying you down under him. Lips dancing with one another, he adjusts your shorts and underwear to the side again, prompting a gasp from you, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue alongside yours.
You moan into the kiss as he presses the tip of his cock to your entrance. Your eyes meet once more, he has that same worry in his eyes, asking if he can continue. “Fuck me Channie…please.” Before your words could fully come out he’s already snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and letting you adjust to his size. “You okay, sweetheart?” The pet name draws out an erotic moan from your lips, you nod frantically as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Chan places your knees atop his shoulders, leaning into you as his hips smack against the back of your thighs. The echo of wet noises bouncing off the dorm room’s wall, Chan has never been more grateful that his roommate, Minho, wasn't in town. “S’close, Channie.” You moan into his neck, your nails clawing at his clothed back. It barely occurred to you that you were both technically fully clothed. “God I like you so much, you know that baby?” Chan mumbled as he drilled into your cunt. “Channie, I like you too- oh my fucking God.” You curse as he reaches your g-spot, hitting it dead on. “Actually?”
“Mhm, shit, liked you for a long time.” You say between moans and whimpers, your climax nearing as your legs begin to shake. “Fuck, gonna make you cum. S’fucking pretty.” Chan slurred as his hand made his way to your clit, rubbing circles onto it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, you don’t think you’ve ever orgasmed like that before.
“Almost there, where d’you want it?” Chan pants over your whines of overstimulation, “Inside, I’m on the- holy fuck- on the pill!” The sensitivity of your cunt begins to be uncomfortable. Your words send Chan over the edge, spilling his hot cum inside of you.
Chan slowly pulls out before plopping onto the mattress next to you. “You really mean it?” He pants, chest heaving. You look at him confused, your mind too hazy for anything at this point. “You like me?”
“Heh, yeah…I do.” Chan leans over and gives you a sweet kiss on the lips. Rolling out of the bed, Chan comes back to you with a towel and some water. “Thanks.” You smile, taking the bottle of water. “Lemme get you some clothes from the closet.” As he makes his way to the closet an idea pops into his head. Chan snatches his phone before walking into his shared walk-in closet.
The ding of your phone grasps your attention, you reach for it and read the most recent message. It’s from Chan.
Send nudes ;)
#skz#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bangchan x reader#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#bangchan smut#bang chan smut#chan smut#bangchan hard thoughts#bangchan hard hours#bang chan hard hours#bang chan hard thoughts#chan hard thoughts#chan hard hours#skz fic#stray kids fic#fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#bangchan fanfic#chan fanfic#bang chan fanfic
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Ive had that problem with links for months, and I have gone back and forth with support so many times and they currently have ignored my latest reply to my ongoing ticket that i think they abanonded it.
So try and put in a support ticket, they may fix it for you, but my ability to click links has been broken for months. I have two phones as well and it's an issue on the app for both so its 100% a bug with my personal account.
But uh ive been ignored and pushed back for that very specific issue for months when orher tickets of mine get addressed right away.
So uh good luck babe 😬
Uuuuuaaaaggghhh! love to hear that
Links all work fine on the desktop version for me. It’s just mobile that’s broken. Every change that’s been made to this app this year has been progressively worse and The fact that things just change on it without even updating makes me so mad. I’m probably just gonna suffer with the broken links and hope that something changes for the better with the next update (it won’t. But that’s a problem for the future)
#i hate it here#genuinely love how ridiculously broken this app is#yes girl give us nothing#I’ve found a home in this hell hole and a few broken links won’t make me leave#messages from beyond#unknown caller
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Hiya vs. Mr. Number: Which Caller ID App Is Better? [2023]
Do you know which of the two apps is better for preventing intrusive callers? If not, we’re happy to inform you that the article below includes a fair comparison of Mr. Number and the Hiya app.
Read Here: https://contentbuz.com/hiya-vs-mr-number/
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Caller ID Sylus/Reader | 930 words | AO3 Sylus learns what you saved him as in your phone. A/N: Infold is a coward for not letting me name him Big Ca-Cawk in my phone. Anyway…uh, vague timeline somewhere after the Immobilized memory.
“I can’t believe you actually saved me as ‘Kitten’ in your phone,” you grumbled for the fourth time that afternoon, pacing back and forth in Sylus’ office at Onychinus base. You were still upset by the whole incident on that trip with the Evol Linkage tethering the two of you together. Through that unfortunate situation, you learned something that, honestly in hindsight, really shouldn’t have been all that surprising. It still didn’t make you any less annoyed.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Upset?” Sylus leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and deeply amused by the many changing expressions on your face.
“Yes, I’m upset!” you turned and yelled at him, “I have a name, you know.”
“And it is a lovely name,” Sylus acknowledged with a haughty smile, “One that so many people use to call you. How many people call you ‘Kitten?’”
“…Just you,” you conceded with a weak glare, still unhappy.
“Exactly,” Sylus responded with an easy smile, happily choosing to ignore your scowl. “I want you to have a special name only I am allowed to use.”
You muttered under your breath to yourself, completely baffled, “…but why did it have to be ‘Kitten?’”
“Did you say something, sweetie?”
“Nope!” you responded with a forced smile. Just as quickly as you had finished answering him, a sneaky little thought suddenly flashed through your mind, making your cheeks burned for a moment. You quickly composed yourself, hoping Sylus didn’t notice your brief distraction. “Forget it, it’s just a caller ID. You will be the only one who will see it anyway…” you said before quickly adding under your breath, “hopefully…”
Sylus looked at you curiously as you started to walk by him. He grabbed your arm. “Hold it,” he said, “What is with that expression?”
You looked up, feigning ignorance. “What expression?”
“That look,” he said, his eyes darting all over your face. He loosened his hold on your arm, and said with a frown, “You look guilty. What are you hiding?”
“Nothing!”
Sylus gave you a disbelieving look. He held out his hand and you looked at it in confusion before he spoke up sternly, “Your phone. Hand it over.”
You shook your head, glaring at him again. “No! Why should I?”
“I want to see what you saved me as in your phone.”
“Sylus. I saved you as Sylus.”
“Oh, really?” He smiled, causing you to feel a sense of unease.
“Really,” you stated firmly, trying to maintain as even of a voice and expression as you could.
“Then…” he strode toward you slowly, making you back away from him with each step he took. For every step you took back, it seemed like Sylus’ long legs quickly covered the distance, surpassing it even. It didn’t take long before you found yourself cursing under your breath when your back hit the wall, and Sylus leaned over to trap you against it. You protested when his hand slipped behind you, pulling your phone out of your back pocket. He smirked. “Oh, good, it’s still unlocked.”
“Sylus, hand it back!” You tried to reach for your phone, but Sylus easily held it out of your reach with his imposing height.
“I will, sweetie, don’t you worry,” he said, opening the contacts app in the phone. “Since you said I am saved as just ‘Sylus,’ there’s no reason I can’t take a peek now, can I?”
“Uh…”
Your face paled as he scrolled through your contacts list, watching as his confident smile slowly disappeared, being replaced with an annoyed frown.
“I don’t see ‘Sylus’ in here…” He looked at you accusingly, “You’ve never saved me as a contact?”
“N-no!” you quickly yelled out, then adding weakly, embarrassed, “You’re in there…”
Sylus looked at you in disbelief, but he resumed scrolling through the contacts list one more time. On the second search, he realized you had saved everyone by their respective name, but there was one contact who stood out from the rest:
“Big…Ca-Cawk?” Sylus clicked on the contact and he recognized his phone number attached to the ID. “Big Ca-Cawk.”
You looked away ashamed.
“What does that even mean?”
“I have to go,” you said hurriedly as you swiped back your phone amid his confusion. You immediately raced out of the room, passing Luke and Kieran with a quick goodbye, before darting out the door to your waiting motorcycle. You quickly sped off and headed toward Linkon City.
Meanwhile, Sylus remained in his office, confused, as he crossed his arms over his chest, pondering the odd name you had given him. As he remained baffled, both Luke and Kieran strode in, both also confused, but for a different reason.
“Miss Hunter sure was in a hurry just now,” Kieran said.
“Yeah,” Luke agreed, “She only said goodbye to us and then bolted out the door like a bat out of hell.”
“Did she?” Sylus questioned with a deeper frown as he leaned back against the wall. “You two. Does ‘Big Ca-Cawk’ mean anything to you?”
“‘Big Ca-Cawk’?” Kieran repeated, confused.
“Big Cock.”
Both Kieran and Sylus immediately looked at Luke, who shifted nervously under their surprised gazes, “Is that not it?”
“Big…Cock,” Sylus repeated hesitantly.
The three men stood in the room staring at one another as an awkward silence took over. About a minute passed before Sylus cleared his throat, “If you two will excuse me, I have a call to make to a certain naughty kitten.”
Luke and Kieran watched confused as Sylus left the room with a pleased smirk plastered on his face.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace fanfiction#lnds fanfics#love and deepspace x reader#sylus x reader#x — fanfics#i seriously have no idea what word in my previous tags got my post hidden#they weren't even questionable words#🫠#tumblr you suck
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call avoidance.
Yandere Hotline: 3/?
featuring: implied drugging. implied tresspassing. lots of male masturbation. unsolicited phone sex (?). implied kidnapping. AFAB!Reader (yan calling reader mommy)
note: this is written while half-asleep. not edited. brain go brrr. i'll add the src some time.
Dealing with mad people can drive anyone insane. But if you're given a hefty sum to keep the insane ones company, you'll take. Life is tough, but you can choose your own hell.
"Got you some drink. Your favorite flavor," Heidi, your 'neighbor' in cubicle, said cheerfully as she placed the drink and sandwich on your spot.
"Well, who are we kidding." You shook your head before placing the plastic cup in your trash bin along with the tasty sandwich that came with it. "They're really persistent, you know?"
You smiled sheepishly as you arrange your cubicle to start a new day. Unlike your workmates, your place is quite neat and devoid of anything that would identify that spot as yours.
No personal images pinned on the corkboard. Not even a framed picture of whoever inspires you to get up and work hard without becoming insane yourself.
Upon accepting the job offer, you made sure to draw the most visible line to keep your personal life to yourself. You've heard some stories—some myths—about some agents disappearing without any trace overnight. Like they never existed in the first place.
"I hope they fuck off, you know?" You sighed before putting on your noise-cancelling headphones. "May we survive this shift," you grumbled as you wait for the first call with baited breath.
You have frequent customers. Most of them were pleasant to talk to. Let's just say that they're not exactly the dangerous type of callers. Those type clients were, most likely, drawn to the idea of being a 'yandere' as a fantasy. Sometimes, there's a hint of sexualization.
Almost every person on the floor are taking calls. Including you. However, your gut's been telling you to ignore the call. Maybe it's one of those unhinged callers who believes that you're theirs. Like they own you and all of your time.
You still have some available credits for call avoidance since you rarely used your credits. Surely, this one call will not affect your performance rating.
While waiting for the phone to stop ringing, you decided to clean up your work email. Being bombarded with useless newsletters about food and books on sale is the worse. Not only does it make your inbox crowded, it's also spammy.
You were fightung the urge to just select all and delete everything at once when you suddenly heard a notification. One after another.
One from your email, another one from your messaging app, and lastly—from the internal chatroom.
You opened the email with an attachment. It was a blank email but as soon as the preview for the attachment appeared, you almost gagged.
It was an image of a man's cock. There were translucent liquid splattered everywhere while the tip of his dick is on a cup—filled to the brim with iced coffee with foamy top. Your favorite.
Your hands were shaking as you exit the window of the website. You clicked the messaging app first. 'Perhaps it was just a promotional message from one of those companies.'
But no.
It was a message from a private number. You don't have any idea how they did it, but they kept sending you images. Most of them were blurry, but the ones with better quality almost made you vomit.
It was taken in a small room. At first, the room was dark, but eventually the image light up. His face was blurred, but you could clearly see what he was doing.
He was fucking your pillow. The one you've been using since you've moved in a better place with better security.
You were confused. And scared.
How could he easily enter your place? Your keys are with you and only the management has access to other duplicates.
"No way..." you whispered as you close the messaging app's window.
One bomb was dropped after another. And you knew something's off.
[NOTICE OF TERMINATION]
Due to multiple reports of call avoidance and drop calls, the management has decided to relieve you from your position as an agent effective immediately.
As we value your well-being, rest assured that you will be receiving your full payment for the next three months along with the other benefits that the company has sworn to provide you.
We sincerely appreciate your efforts for the last three years. We wish you all the best from this day forward.
You were devastated, yet relieved upon reading the letter. You've been wanting to receive this for months. It was the only way out of this place and this industry. You've also managed to save up a lot that you can start fresh somewhere. Far from this place.
Another phone call managed to bypass the automatic system of the place. You took a deep breath before accepting the call.
"Hello?"
"I can't... wait... haah..." the man on the line was clearly doing himself. By the eay he sounds, he's probably close. "We'll move to a big house... haah... hngg... a baby, a babyyy... nhnn... come home..."
Your eyes widened upon hearing your name. Not the screen name you gave them, but your legal full name.
"Let me... hngg... make you a mommy... d'you want that, huh?" You could a wet sloppy noises in the background. "Tiny baby... sucking on your tits... while I make a mess out of you?"
"Ap—"
"No need for... apologies..." he was breathing heavily. "I'll see you soon, okay?
"Heimdall."
He chuckled. "That's me, my princess... took you long enough to say my name."
"How did you get into my house?" you asked while gritting your teeth.
"Patience, my love. We could talk all about it once you're home. Should I get you something to eat? Chicken? Cake? Sandwich? Coffee?"
"I'm done with you."
You immediately pressed the end call button before gathering your things and left. Not even a farewell to your friends.
But there's something you should probably know.
Heidi can't wait to be an aunt and to be your sister-in-law!
#yandere#yandere male#noirscript: yandere hotline#yandere hotline#yandere blog#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yancore#yandere imagines#yandere fic#dead dove do not eat#tw.dark content#yandere x darling#male yandere x y/n#male yandere x you#male yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x you
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no body, no crime [o.p.s]
pairing: Mob Boss!Oscar Piastri x GN!Reader wc: 1.8k cw: reader shoots someone, poor hurt/comfort an: this one is dedicated to the local piastri lover em because that Danny Ric fic is never leaving the editing stage,,, had to change it up a bit tho bc the beginning was hampering the rest of it, but anyways I’m continuing the 2 am shitposting tradition 💀
The clock ticked softly in the background, a cold breeze filtering through the room as you curled further into the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to drown out the noise. The nightlights shone through the thin curtains, the light of the bright neon billboards cast onto the floor.
Oscar wasn’t home again, leaving you to your lonesome in his penthouse in London, something about an emergency meeting at eleven in the night.
You weren’t worried much about the call time, but you couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach as your head rested on his shoulder, still too tired to make out what he murmured in a low voice on the phone.
Whatever it was sounded important but he didn’t let you hear anything, herding you back to the bedroom with the promise that he’d be back sooner if not later. You held onto his hand, eyes shutting for good as the warmth of his hand slipped away once again.
With that, you fell into a fretful sleep, waking up at odd times for no explainable reason.
You felt dreadful as your eyes opened again, apartment eerily quiet, vision blurring as you read the clock.
2:45 A.M. It read.
You crawled to the end of the bed, letting your legs dangle off the bed as you reached out for your phone. Not a single notification on the screen and you sighed, opening up the messages app.
As you opened Oscars contact, something outside clicked faintly, making you jump. You slid off the bed, feet padding against the wooden flooring as you wandered into the hall.
You didn’t see any guards posted, even as you called out names you could barely remember hoarsely, getting no response back even as your voice bounced around the hall. It was slowly starting to freak you out, but you figured it was just the lack of sleep getting to you.
You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this paranoid, and it wasn’t just for nothing.
The lights were off in the living room and kitchen, and you turned on the flashlight on your phone, your free hand pressed to the glass window. Your hands trembled slightly as you returned to tapping against the screen, typing up a message to send to Oscar.
where are you rn? heard something outside, can’t see guards anywhere.
The screen lit up, speech bubbles popping up for a couple moments before diapering entirely.
lmk when you’re on your way.
You sent the message, sliding onto a chair and hunching over the granite countertop. The phone rang only moments later, and you snapped out of your stupor, looking at the caller id.
[Osc].
You swiped, sliding off the chair and walking into the kitchen.
“Y/n? Is that you, baby?”
“Mmm, it is,” You mumbled sleepily, fingers running along the countertops as you reached to open the cabinet, "Where are you?"
"I'm on my way back," Oscar replied, tone relieved. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"
“No, I thought i heard something,” You paused, anxiety thrumming under the surface of your skin as something clicked again, “And the guards aren’t here, they-”
“What do you mean not there?” You held the phone away, eyes widening as he cussed softly. The shock and fear in his voice sent a chill down your spine.
"I don't know," you stammered, glancing around the dark kitchen, "I called out for them, but no one answered. I thought it was just me being paranoid but…"
"Lock yourself in the bedroom. Now. I'm almost there, and if anyone breaks through, there's a gun in my nightchest. Don’t use it, just scare them if you have to." He instructed, voice panicked. You paused as he rambled further, eyes landing on a glass half full sitting on the countertop next to the sink.
“What the…”
Your head was slammed into the counter, blinding white pain licking across your temple as you dropped the phone.
The glass shattered as you flailed, crumpling onto the floor. Your world spun, something wet staining your hand as you clutched your head.
Oscar was now frantically shouting through the phone, and your vision blurred as you scanned the floor for the bright light. The sound of your phone cracking made you scramble back, trying to stand up as the world spun under your feet.
You could barely see the assailant in the darkness of the apartment, barely illuminated by the lights of the city.
They lunged for you, barely missing as you scrambled to the side, back hitting a wall. It was barely seconds before they came for you, pressing you up against the wall with their gun, cutting off your circulation.
The cold metal dug into your neck, and you clawed at their clothed arms, aimlessly flailing. Your kicking paid off, as the intruder gasped in pain as you landed a kick to the crotch, gasping for air as you slid down. Despite the throbbing pain, you dogged again when something flew at your head, crawling to the living room and pulling yourself up against the coffee table.
The intruder closed in once again, swearing loudly as they limped towards you. Grasping blindly, your fingers closed around a metal vase, swinging it in their direction. It connected with a resounding thud and you got up, shoving past them in the direction of your shared bedroom.
You’d stunned them, but you weren’t sure how long it’d last, locking the door behind you as you fell to your knees, crawling over to his side of the bed, slumped against the bed as you opened the drawer.
Your fingers closed around the cold metal of the gun Oscar had mentioned, hand tensing and untensing as you stared down the shiny silver. Suddenly, the door banged again, and you froze.
The rush of blood drowned out the taunts, positioning yourself in a far corner of the room, eyes straining in the dark as the doorknob jiggled.
That didn’t last wrong, the wood of the door splintering and cracking. "Come out, you-" the intruder's voice was cut off by another loud bang on the door, hand reaching down to the handle through a crack in the door.
There was nothing but the bed between you now, the door finally giving way, allowing them to stumble into a room with a malevolent look.
Panic surged through you and you raised the gun as threateningly as you could.
He grabbed your wrist, wrenching the gun from your grasp and throwing it to the side. You struggled, kicking and clawing your way out of his grip, diving for the gun. They tackled you once again, and you both tumbled to the ground.
In the struggle, your finger dug into the trigger, losing circulation as he pinned you down, gun shaking uncontrollably.
A shot rang out, followed by an intense ringing in your ears, the grip on your hands loosening. Something warm splattered against your face, blood pooling at your sides and you could only stare in horror.
There was nothing but a ringing in your ear, staring into the darkness as if expecting something else. The door burst open and Oscar rushed in, his eyes wild with fear. It was the first time you’d seen him so unkempt, eyes widening in shock as he connected the dots between the smoking gun in your hand and the body on the floor.
You couldn’t make out what he was saying, only as he pulled you closer to him, feeling the vibrations in his chest.
You couldn’t really make out what he was saying, slumping down against him as tears escaped your eyes.
You weren’t sure how much time passed till you could hear him again, blanking out for a couple of moments before you could remember again, sitting on the bed once again.
You could hear Oscar shouting in the other room, probably on the phone again. Something had gone terribly wrong for his composed self to be shattered.
He had Lando sitting in the room with you, monitoring you as your legs dangled off of the edge of the bed, staring down at hands crusted with blood.
Both of you didn’t say much, only nodding to any questions he asked, not even listening entirely.
“Is she doing okay?” You turned at the sound of Oscar's voice, opening then closing your mouth as Lando shrugged noncommittally, murmuring something about how he hadn’t heard a peep in the hour he’d been there.
You phased out again, only coming back to your senses as he gripped your hand, kneeling in front of you.
"Hey," Oscar said softly, high contrast to the way he had been yelling earlier. "Can you look at me baby?"
You blinked, slowly focusing on his face. The tears were coming back, and you swallowed them down again, digging your nails into his hands instead.
He didn’t complain, running a soothing thumb over your knuckles. "You don’t have to if you don’t want to," He continued, "You're safe now. Everything's going to be okay."
Even when you didn’t answer and stared blankly, he continued, listing things aimlessly to catch your attention.
“We’re going to increase security detail for you by the way. I won’t be leaving you on your own for a while…” He paused in his explanation, tilting his head at you. “Please talk to me, baby, I’m worried.”
You swallowed hard, feelings like a mess of strings as you opened your mouth. "I don't know what happened," You shuddered, voice barely above a whisper, "I just... I had to… I just killed someone. Oh god, I'm a killer."
Oscar's expression softened further in contrast to the steely tone he used as he gripped your hand tighter. “No, you didn’t. If anyone questions you, I was the one who did it. Not you, me. Don’t blame yourself for what happens to scum like that.”
“But then- then you’ll get in trouble,” You whispered, haunted by the thought, “they’ll arrest you.”
He smirked, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face as if he was contemplating something.
“Osc baby, what-“
“Whoever sent them,” He spoke with slight disgust, although you could tell that wasn’t at all the full gist of what he was feeling, “Started this trouble first. They can’t arrest me if there’s no body to be found. No body, no crime baby.”
You could only stare at him, heart aching slightly as he pulled your hands to him, allowing you to run your fingers through his messed up hair.
“You’re…” You didn’t finish the sentence, allowing him to stand up and hover over you.
“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he wiped your unshed tears. “You’re strong, we all know that.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sniffled, hands looping around his own as he cradled your face.
“You’ll never have to find out,” he replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead, arms holding you down almost possessively, “Never when I’m here.”
#f1 fluff#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x gn!reader#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#mafia f1#f1 mafia#f1 mafia au#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fic#op81 fluff#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#op81#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine
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[3.5k] luke hits the west coast for his first long roadie of the season with some unsettling feelings about leaving jersey for so long. who would have thought his biggest problem on the road would end up being looking at his caller id over the actual hockey games he was playing? (smut)
series masterlist
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hockey boy: u up?
Luke Hughes had never felt like more of a fuck boy than he did the moment he had sent the text—which was ironic when he was quite literally the opposite of a fuckboy.
He hadn’t even meant for it to come across that way. Genuinely, he did not.
Despite being officially in the NHL for over a month now, this was the first time Luke was going on a roadie across the country whilst wearing the New Jersey red on his back. Most of their away games had been in nearby cities, where they would maybe spend a day or two in another city before returning to Jersey.
But this was the longest one yet—a full ten days in the west coast for games against San Jose, LA and Anaheim.
He wanted to say it wasn’t a big deal, that he was used to the life of hockey taking him to new cities and states. But things were different in the NHL. The stakes were higher, the games meant more even this early in the season, things just felt a lot more intense.
But it felt stupid to confess as much to his brother or any of the other boys when he literally played in the playoff games last season, when the stakes were the Cup.
However, Luke couldn’t shake off the weird intensity of the roadie. He played off Jack’s concerned looks with some bullshit excuse that he was tired, that he was just struggling to sleep these days. It didn’t wave away his older brother’s concern but it got him off his back for a little bit. It let Jack focus on a different concern and not the real reason (that felt borderline childish to admit) that he felt on edge about leaving Jersey for so long.
And it meant that Luke was laying in the hotel room alone whilst Jack was out with some of the other guys on the team for dinner, embracing the one free evening they had before the game tomorrow against San Jose.
He had flipped through a variety of shows on the tv and scrolled through endless apps on his phone before he gave in, his finger hovering over the send button before he clicked it.
It hadn’t even hit him how his text sounded until your reply came through a few moments later.
cherry🍒: damn hughes
cherry🍒: you gonna ask me what i’m wearing next?
His cheeks instantly burned hot, something quite like embarrassment and awkwardness bubbling in the pit of his stomach.
At least it was hard to focus on the upcoming games when he was too busy thinking about the quickest ways to flee the country and change his identity.
hockey boy: absolutely not
Luke’s fingers moved fast on the screen, already drafting up a second message when your reply came through.
cherry🍒: rude :(
cherry🍒: maybe I had something special on for you
And that was enough to make his brain go blank, the sentence he was in the middle of typing long forgotten as he stared at the words on his screen. He almost felt guilty how quickly his imagination came up with images of you back on his bed, just like his birthday party, in something short and sexy and—
He almost dropped his phone on his face when it began buzzing in his hand, scrambling to sit up in his bed as he answered.
“H-Hello?” He cleared his throat, his face burning warmer when he heard your laugh on the other side.
“You sound a little caught off, Hughes,” you teased, lighthearted and playful. “Did I interrupt something?”
“I—no!” Luke exclaimed, though something inside him relaxed when you laughed again. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean for it to come off like that. I swear. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I didn’t think so considering it’s been five minutes since my last message and you hadn’t replied yet. Not really setting the mood there.”
He shook his head, his lips twitching upwards. “So you’re saying you’re not wearing something special for me?”
“Unfortunately not. Just some sweats and a hoodie.”
“Hm,” Luke hummed before frowning, taking a quick glance at the time on his phone before he swore under his breath. “Shit, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
You laughed and something in his chest tightened as he imagined the soft smile on your face as you did so. “No, I couldn’t get to sleep. I was just watching some random episode of The Vampire Diaries before you called.”
Luke blinked. “The what?”
You fell silent for a moment. “Tell me you’re joking.”
He paused as well before he spoke in the most unconvincing voice. “I’m joking?”
“Forget watching it, how have you never heard of it?!”
“I don’t know!” Luke defended weakly, shuffling back further against the pillows. “Is this your subtle way of telling me to watch it?”
“No!”
He frowned. “No?”
“I want to watch it with you. I want to see your reactions.”
Luke snorted but he didn’t disagree, something fond and warm bubbling in the pit of his stomach at your insistence. “Fine, deal,” he mused. “But it would have at least given me something to do.”
“Wow, is Jack that boring of a roommate?”
He laughed. “Nah, he went out with some of the other guys for dinner.”
“You didn’t feel like joining?”
“Not really,” he admitted.
“How come?”
“Just…didn’t feel like it,” he said, his fingers tugging on the drawstrings of his hoodie as the spiralling thoughts began to creep in again. Like a reminder he wasn’t just lying on his bed back in Jersey talking away to you on the phone, that he was actually on the other side of the country.
And it seemed like you sensed his reluctance, the shift in his voice like he seemed distant and you wanted to pull him back in.
“So you try to sext me instead?” Your voice was playful and taunting and he could imagine the smirk on your face so clearly.
“Shut up,” he groaned, his cheeks burning once again. “I didn’t—”
“You so did.”
“That was not my intention at all,” he retorted.
“Damn, Hughes, didn’t take you for a phone sex kind of a guy?”
Luke could only thank some superior being above that it wasn’t a facetime call, that you couldn’t see how bad he was blushing. “I am neither a sexting or phone sex kind of guy.”
“Boo, it’s more fun than you would think.”
His nose scrunched up. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it, Luke.”
…
Despite being in two very different states, Luke had found himself on the phone with you most nights of the roadie so far.
It wasn’t really a co-dependent thing, like Jack liked to tease him about when he caught Luke waiting for your message saying you were free to call after the game in LA. It was a similar feeling he had with his friends back in Michigan or his brothers, this strong urge to tell you things. He wanted to share it with you, he wanted to tell you about something stupid Jack did in the locker room or the weird drink Curtis smuggled him at dinner.
And in turn, he wanted to hear about your day too. He wanted to hear about how the nice barista at the coffee shop on the way to work gave you a free cookie because she fucked up your order by accident. He wanted to hear about the way your upstairs neighbour had taken up tap dancing and seemed to only find eleven o’clock at night the most appropriate time to practise. He just wanted to hear you talk.
Luke was at least self-aware enough to realise he was being a bit insane with the phone calls every night when he was only gone for over a week. But day six into a ten day roadie and he just kind of wished he was chilling on your couch when listening to these stories rather than a nondescript hotel room he shared with his brother with limited privacy.
However, the phone calls had become such a routine over the last few days that he didn’t even think twice when he picked up his buzzing phone, answering and putting it on speaker as he walked towards his suitcase in only a towel.
“Hey, I’ve been waiting for your call,” Luke said, an easy smile on his face as he quickly grabbed some clothes to change into after his shower.
“Really? I didn’t realise you missed me that much. I miss you too, dude.”
Luke froze, his eyes widening as he snapped his gaze back towards his phone. He quickly grabbed it off his bed, letting out a soft ‘fuck’ when he realised it was Ethan, not you.
“Luke? You still there?”
“Uh yeah,” Luke cleared his throat. “Sorry, I just came out of the shower. So, uh, what’s up?”
“I caught the game, just wanted to make sure you were alright. Looked like a tough game but you were killer out there, bud.”
He paused, his lips twitching upwards. “You watched the game?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, dude. The boys watch every game we can. Our boy is in the big leagues! We gotta support you.”
“I didn’t know,” he admitted, his chest tightening a little.
“We miss you on the team, gotta get our fix somehow,” Ethan joked, lighthearted and playful.
And yet, Luke felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Despite flying out for his birthday party, he hadn’t really been messaging the boys back in Michigan as much as he should have. He knew they were also giving him space to settle into the NHL lifestyle and they were busy with classes and such, but his own surprise from Ethan calling confirmed enough that he needed to reach out more.
“I miss playing with you guys too,” Luke confessed, and it was true. He loved the Devils and he loved living out his dream but a small part of him itched to be back on the ice with his UMich boys again.
“Yeah but you never threw us around like that.”
Luke let out a groan, ignoring Ethan’s laughs. “I didn’t mean to knock him over like that, it was just the momentum!”
Ethan’s laughs only got louder.
…
It was the night before the Anaheim game when Jack had all but bolted out the room, muttering something about hanging out with Trevor and that he would be back before dinner.
In all honesty, Luke didn’t question it much. He just waved his brother off, saying he was going to have a small nap before he started getting ready for whatever restaurant Trevor had booked for them (assuring that it would fit their diet plan but Luke wasn’t convinced). Between the travelling and training on the road, Luke found himself more exhausted than he was from back-to-back games in Jersey.
And he genuinely was going to nap until his phone buzzed with a message from you and he found himself dialling your number before he could help himself.
“A call already? You didn’t even give me a chance to try sexting you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what the point is.”
“I like hearing you get all flustered and nervous.”
“Yeah but it’s not really the same thing, is it?” He commented, running a hand through his curls before tugging his hood back over his head. “Surely it’s just a bit…awkward.”
“It can be hot if you do it right,” you corrected him. “Personally, I think phone sex is better but it can be fun to sext too. Like a thrill, you know?”
“Yes because nothing sounds sexier than talking about sex,” he mused.
“It’s not like that,” you laughed, shuffling around on the other side of the phone. “Think of it like…foreplay.”
His brows furrowed together. “In what way?”
“You aren’t together but you’re telling each other what you would want to do if you were. What you wish you could be doing. And you’re listening to it all, listening to them get off to your words.”
Luke swallowed harshly. “It still sounds awkward.”
There was a pause on the other side. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting a little in his spot. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to facetime them and see them?”
“It’s about using your imagination, Luke,” you hummed, sounding amused by his grasp on phone sex. “It’s about taking the scraps of what they tell you and letting your brain run wild with it.”
He let out an unconvinced hum.
“Still sceptical?”
“Maybe.”
There was a small pause before you spoke again. “You’re alone, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Luke nodded, even if you couldn’t see him. “Jack won’t be back for another few hours so—”
“So you can be a good boy for me?”
His brain went blank.
“C’mon, Luke.” He could almost hear the smirk in your voice. “Remember what we said about words?”
“Yeah,” he let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I can be…good.”
“I know you can, you’re always so good f’me,” you commented, so nonchalant and casual like your worlds didn’t make his heart beat a little faster. “Tell me what you’re doing right now.”
“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m lying in bed, talking to you. But you know that—”
“What are you wearing?”
Luke glanced down at himself, the Devils branded hoodie and UMich sweatpants hardly the sexiest of outfit choices but he muttered out his response regardless. “Isn’t that the exact line you teased me about earlier?”
“You telling me you’re wearing something special just for me?”
He snorted, despite himself. “Hardly.”
“That’s fine. You look better without anything anyway. A shame you’re all the way in California, would’ve been nice to have you all to myself.”
He gulped. “Is this where I use my imagination to guess what you’d do to me?”
“If you want,” you said, laughing softly and it almost felt like you were right there beside him. “Or I could tell you how I miss hearing those pretty noises you make when you come, the little moans you let out when I touch you.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “How do you just say those things so…easily?”
“Because I know what I like and I’m confident with saying what I want. And I really like making you come, you’re always so sweet. You get so blushy and shy, it’s cute. I could only imagine what you’d be like when I get my mouth on you.”
Luke squirmed, his hand reaching down to press down on the length of his cock like it would ease the way he was twitching at her words.
“Would you like that, Luke?”
“Y-Yeah,” he breathed out, nodding even if you couldn’t see him.
“Bet you would look so pretty, all shy and nervous to touch me even if you wanted to,” you continued, his eyes fluttering shut like he could pretend you were really in the room with him, like you were really whispering all of this in his ear. “But I would want you to, Luke. I would wanna feel your hands in my hair, wanna see you take control.”
“I would,” he mumbled out, his hand slowly stroking himself over his sweatpants as he imagined it. As he imagined being sat on your couch, with you kneeling between his legs and your eyes glued on his reactions. It made his whole body feel hot and flustered.
“Yeah, baby? You’d take control? Fuck my mouth?”
He was almost embarrassed by the noise he let out.
“Are you touching yourself right now? Letting your imagination fill in the blanks?”
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Good, baby, good. Keep touching yourself, keep making yourself feel good.”
“Wish it was you,” he managed to mutter out, his cock straining under the fabric of his boxers and sweatpants. However, any embarrassment or lingering awkwardness was long gone as he pushed them down to his knees, not even bothered to kick them off as he got his hand on himself.
“Yeah? Me too, baby. I wish I was with you now, could watch you squirm and beg f’me with your dick down my throat.”
“Fuck,” he hissed, squeezing the base of his cock as he tried to mimic the night of his birthday, to mimic the feeling of your hand on him instead. “That’s…vulgar.”
You laughed, and it shouldn’t have been so hot to him but it was. “Too much? You don’t want me to talk about how badly I wish that it was you touching me right now?”
“You’re touching yourself right now?” It was almost a wheeze, like the air had been knocked out of his lungs and it hadn’t even hit him until that moment that you were in the same position as him.
“Mhm,” you hummed, all sweet and high-pitched and it reminded him of the noise you made just before you came on his fingers. “If I was more patient, I would’ve got a toy. Would’ve felt way better.”
“Toy?” He rasped.
“Jealous?” You teased, unaware of the way Luke turned his head to the side, biting down on his pillow to hold back his groans as he continued to stroke himself. “I’ll show you when you’re back.”
“Show me on yourself?”
“I can use them on you too, pretty boy, if you could handle it.”
“I…could,” he muttered out, listening to the breathy, moany laugh on the other side of the phone.
“We’ll see,” you hummed. “Maybe I’ll send you a video for your next roadie. Keep you occupied while you’re away.”
“Nuh uh,” he bit out, shaking his head. “This. I like this. I like hearing your voice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he repeated, his stomach twisting as his thumb swiped over the head of his cock and rubbed the small bead of precum along his slit. “S’close.”
“Come f’me, wanna hear you come.”
It was a bit of a mindfuck if Luke was completely honest with himself. The pleasure running down his spine, leaving his body hot and heavy and just as good as it did when he was with you didn’t make sense to him. Listening to the little breathy moans and whines you let out when he came all over his hand, as he listened to you get yourself off shouldn’t have made his dick twitch so soon. He shouldn’t have been able to make himself come so hard just from some dirty talk from you, and yet he had.
Though, Luke didn’t have a lot of explanations when it came to the way you made him feel.
“You still there?”
“Yeah,” he hummed, his eyes still shut as he laid on the bed, practically melting into the sheets beneath him. “Kinda need that nap now.”
You snorted. “You should clean up before you fall asleep.”
“Five minutes,” he murmured out, a lazy smile on his face as your laugh echoed through the phone.
…
He was rushing to button up his shirt when his phone rang again.
He was already running late for the reservations Trevor made for dinner (if the constant stream of messages from Jack was telling him anything) and his nap lasted longer than he expected. But he couldn’t bite back his smile as he reached for his phone, his thumb already swiping to answer the call as he rummaged through his suitcase to find his cologne.
“You’re out of luck if you’re wanting to go for a round two,” Luke mused once the call had connected, an odd wave of confidence in his voice as he spoke.
“Round two of what?”
Luke froze, yanking his phone away from his ear to see Quinn’s name on his screen. He let out a muttered ‘what the fuck’ under his breath, an odd sense of deja vu from his phone call with Ethan washing over him before he quickly answered his eldest brother.
“Uh, nothing,” he laughed off, resisting the urge to yank on his own hair after he had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes trying to make his curls look presentable. “Just some…exercise challenge thing Jack and I were trying out.”
“And you think he would call you about it? Aren’t you two together right now?”
“Yes. No!” Luke shook his head at himself. “No, he’s in Nico’s room right now.”
“I thought you were getting dinner with Trevor?”
“Right,” Luke laughed once again, awkward and strained. “We are. He just…had to tell Nico something first. You know Jack! Just…always attached to Nico’s hip.”
There was a moment of silence before Quinn spoke again. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel great, actually! Speaking of, I need to go so I’ll call you later. Okay, great, bye!”
He slammed the small red button until the call disconnected, throwing his phone down on his bed and letting out a long, deep sigh. He really needed to start looking at his phone before answering calls, it was getting a bit ridiculous.
Luke finished getting ready, shoving some shoes on and making his way towards the elevator as he began typing out a message before slipping his phone into his pocket, already preparing himself for Jack’s whining about how late he is by the time he reached the lobby.
hockey boy: remind me to give you a personalised ringtone when i’m back in jersey
.
#luke hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes fic#luke hughes one shot#luke hughes smut#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot#nhl smut
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ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.
(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!
He calls you sometimes.
Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him.
The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection.
The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway.
The next call came another three days after that.
You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it.
Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time.
It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead.
He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?”
You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours.
It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly.
Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai.
Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing.
You don’t tell anyone.
If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.
You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.
“Hey,” you whisper.
Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier.
He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….
“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”
Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state.
Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves.
But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that.
“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”
You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him.
You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.
You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.
But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.
“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“
The line goes dead.
The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep.
But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind.
Dazai shouldn’t be doing this.
His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia.
Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore.
He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.
If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment.
“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“
“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.
“Dazai-“ Ango begins.
“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile.
You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head.
He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.
His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions.
“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”
Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living.
He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time.
Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you.
He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you.
You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.
Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone.
He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.
“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.”
Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.
Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.
But if he’s right…
Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.
Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.
Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised.
And then he waits.
The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay.
Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone.
And then you do.
He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.
But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger.
Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.
“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.
Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been.
Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you
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