Não quero escrever sobre você, ou para você, não quero colocar no papel coisas que nunca seriam entregues ao destinatário.
Não quero escrever sobre você, ou para você, não quero colocar no papel coisas que nunca seriam entregues ao destinatário.
We love when your buddy’s wife interacts with our posts. Not.
Good news is that I started season 1 of GHS. Bad news is that I just finished Rick and Morty season 1, and I think I’m hooked
Today I need you a little bit extra.
But you’re still gone.
And I’m still here
So I made a post about a possible component of the Ghost Stories fic, and I decided to turn it into a one-shot that may become canon to my fanon (Aren’t words fun?). Original post here (x).
By the way, this one-shot does contain a spoiler for the rest of Ghost Stories, so be warned.
Ao3 isn’t working for me right now, so you’ll have to wait for a link to that.
I miss you.
There are things in my mind and you’re the only one I want to tell them to and there are things I want to do and you’re the only one I want to do them with and my brain is in a weird place and I love you.
I would like to wish you a happy thanksgiving but I can’t.
I’m having dreams that make me feel unsafe and I need Nolan.
I think you’re my lobster.
On Tuesday it’s been a month since I last attempted to contact you, though I almost feel like it’s been less time than that, and the urge to do so is getting very strong.
surprise, bitch. i bet you thought you’d seen the last of me ;)
warnings: phone/facetime sex, male and female masturbation, verbal degradation, overstimulation, dom!tk, sub!reader, sub!Nolan, swearing, the usual sinning, my rusty writing
word count: 2,000
a/n: wow did not think that i would actually post something for this series lol proud of myself for making time to actually sit down and write something - even if it’s not quality at all. so freaking sorry if this is a letdown haha also, if there’s a line through your username, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you! if you changed your username or would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know!
“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Nolan groan after he picks up your Facetime, “That’s just cruel.”
“What?” you say turning away from the bathroom mirror to face your phone that was propped up against the wall.
“Really? You’re going to act like you didn’t know that shirt doesn’t even begin to cover your ass?” he sighs, voice pinched.
“Well, in that case,” you wink, tossing the make-up brush onto the counter before reaching down to the hem of the faded Flyers shirt you snagged from the drawer Nolan had gradually taken over. Slowly, you pull it off of your body and discard it somewhere on the bathroom floor. You stand, completely naked, in front of the camera, an innocent look toying on your features.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he sighs, lip catching on his teeth.
“I can put it back on,” you tease, inching closer to the small pile of fabric laying on the cold tile.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls, eyes flaring.
“That’s what I thought,” you smirk, turning back to the mirror and giving him an unobscured view of your glistening cunt.
You resume what you were doing - getting ready for a girl’s night out with some of your friends from school, completely ignoring Nolan. When the boys were away, you sometimes Facetimed each other not for the purpose of catching up but to just be together. It was comforting to know you could talk if you needed to but weren’t required to - just like when they were home. They were just there with you. You just finished a coat of mascara on your right eye when you heard movement on Nolan’s end of the call. His breathing had become louder, mixed with the sound of rustling fabric. You listen as he sighs, shuffling around under the sheets of the hotel bed. The sounds start to get sloppy, so you turn.
“Are you touching yourself?” your eyes narrow, blinking into the dark room.
“Maybe…” Nolan slows his pace, his chest heaving in the dull light streaming from the bathroom through the screen. Beads of sweat had formed on his creamy chest, deliciously decorating the flesh. His pupils were blown, and his hair was matted to his forehead and shoulders. A firm hand was making languid strokes over his engorged member.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Nol,” you warn, placing a hand on your hip.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he echoes your words from a previous encounter, “All you have to do is stand there, just looking at you is enough.”
“You’re taking the fall if we get caught, okay?” he nods.
You turn back around, putting the finishing touches on your eyes as you listen. The bed creaks under his weight and you can tell he’s fucking up into his hand - probably envisioning you bouncing on his cock. He’s whimpering, your name falling from his lips. You try and focus on the task at hand but you are a slave to the sounds he makes. You find yourself facing him once again, watching as he gets off to your bare body. His lip is drawn between his teeth, the skin bulging against flashes of sharp white. Lust takes over your mind and you can feel arousal dripping down you leg. He notices, smirking.
“Please, baby,” he whines, “Touch yourself for me…”
“Nolan,” you sigh, turmoil flashing in your want-filled eyes. You’re conflicted, but you do it anyway.
A hand creeps over your stomach, delicately touching the hood of your clit. Your body jolts at the sensation. You lean back against the counter, lifting your leg up into the stool to expose yourself to him. He sighs as he watches you trails your fingers down your cunt. One catches on your dripping entrance. Your lips part, a soft sigh tumbling out. Slowly, you press it inside of you. You groan as your silky walls engulf your digit. After a few tentative thrusts you begin moving your fingers in time with his movements.
“That’s it, baby,” he praises, “Just like that. Fuck your needy pussy with your pretty fingers. Pretend they’re mine. Pretend they’re my cock.”
You nod, crying out as you add a third finger. Your tight heat stretches around your hand as you dig deeper. The hand propping you up snakes down to your clit. It rubs calculated circles around the sensitive bud He groans, licking his lips at the sight of you - spread out on the bathroom counter with your fingers buried in your cunt. Your high draws close but realization hits first.
“This is a bad idea, we shouldn’t,” you draw your hand from your cunt.
“Come on, I’m not as mean as him. I’ll actually let you come,” he encourages while the sheets rustle as he increases the pace of his hand.
“So, I’m mean now?” Travis’ voice pierces the room.
Neither of you had heard him walk into the hotel room, too consumed by each other. You hear his heavy footsteps as he pads against the carpet and to the bed. Nolan flushes a deep shade of purple, slowly moving his member around the tight confines of his sticky hand.
“It’s -” Nolan starts.
“Don’t you dare tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” the bed groans under Travis’ weight, “I know exactly what’s going on. My two whores are so fucking horny that they couldn’t wait an hour for me to get drinks with Claude, they just had to get off early.”
You hear Nolan’s breath hitch and Travis comes into frame. He’s straining against his dark grey suit as he bends over Nolan’s bare form. The contrast sends you into overdrive - Nolan looks so hot curled under Travis’ mercy. One hand moving to grasp the creamy skin of Nolan’s neck, Travis pushes his hand away from his weeping cock, bringing his other down to the sensitive flesh.
“This is what you wanted, right? You wanted to come,” Travis growls as he moves at a bruising pace, “You’re going to fucking come, and then I’m going to touch you until you come again and again and again - until you’re dry.”
You watch as Nolan cries, hips bucking into Travis’ hand. Obscene noises fill the room, flowing through the speaker of your phone and echoing off the walls of the bathroom. Your mouth waters as you watch Nolan shake. A hand snakes down your body unconsciously, sinking into your heat.
“Please, Trav, don’t. I can’t,” Nolan squirms, pleading for mercy, “I’m sorry.”
“You see, I would but I’m mean,” Travis growls, “You said it yourself.”
You can hear the smirk in his voice. Travis loved when you misbehaved. He loved discipline. He loved to bend you - and now Nolan, at his will. If your boyfriend was anything, it was a glutton for punishment.
Strangled cries pool out of Nolan’s mouth as he stares into Travis’ eyes. Soon, they’re muffled by teeth and lips. You watch as their tongues fight for dominance, Nolan trying his best. You watch Travis’ hand slips in and out of frame, moving rapidly against the delicate flesh of Nolan’s weeping member. Your hand matches its pace, mind wandering. You imagine being there. You imagine being at the mercy of Travis, suffering and servicing. Nolan’s sharp groans pull you from your thoughts.
The dim light flooding in from the bathroom is just bright enough to illuminate the pornographic scene in front of you. Travis is leaned over Nolan’s bare form, material of his suit no doubt burning the skin, as he abuses his neck. Speckles of purples, blues and reds appear, jumping in stark construct to Nolan’s pale complection. You can’t make out what he’s whispering against the shell of is ear but you can see the effect it’s having. Nolan’s hips are bucking against his hand, lip puckering around his teeth.
“I’m gonna cum, can I please cum?” Nolan whimpers, “Please, sir. I need to cum.”
“Beg. Prove to me that you deserve a release,” Travis bites into his shoulder.
“Please… I’ve been thinking about you all day. You look so good in that suit and I couldn’t help myself. Didn’t help that she was fucking naked when she answered my call. Please, daddy. I’ll be good, I promise. Just please let me cum,” Nolan folds.
Something flips in Travis. His previous actions appear docile compared to what comes next. Growls wreck through his form, his hand moving impossibly fast. You watch as he slides down the length of Nolan’s body, mouth latching onto his cock. Your hand falls away from your body in awe. Fingers thread themselves through his hair as his moves down the length of it. Your jaw mirrors Nolan’s, falling open in surprise.
“Cum,” Travis pulls away momentarily, voice piercing the room.
Nolan doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips sputter against Travis’ hold, knuckles turning white around tufts of hair. He cries out, the sound radiating through the hotel room. You can hear Travis groan around his member, the same way you do.
“Fuck,” Nolan groans as he falls back into the sheets.
Travis pulls away, wiping the side of his mouth with his thumb. A satisfied smirk tugs at the corners, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His fingers make quick work of his tie and the first few buttons of his wrinkled dress shirt. Heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric is all that can be heard through the call. Your breath hitches as his stern eyes find yours as he shifts Nolan’s computer further back on the bed. He winks, then turns his attention back to the spent boy tangled in the sheets.
“Come on, you can give me at least one more,” Travis’ voice is firm, but encouraging.
“I can’t, you know I can’t,” he whines in response, burying his face further into his pillow, “…at least not soon.”
“That’s fine. I’m a patient man, I can wait.”
Travis ghosts his hands over Nolan’s hips, delicately drinking in his sensitive skin. He flinched against the touch, face still deep in the soft white fabric. Travis never let you rest after the first orgasm, so you understood the agony Nolan must be in. You watch as he places soft kisses along the length of his softening member. Airy moans radiate from the pillow, hips unconsciously moving to meet the touch.
“Please,” Nolan feebly protests with little success.
“You look so pretty win you cum, like an angel,” Travis praises and Nolan melts, “… to bad you behave like a little minx.”
“Trav,” Nolan bucks his hips, his member pressing against Travis’ waiting lips.
He wastes no time. He takes him in the same fashion, feverishly devouring him. His tongue delicately flicks Nolan’s head, a flick of pink flashing against engorged red. It drifts down and traces the throbbing vein that lines the underside of Nolan’s cock. Once more, his head disappears from frame as he engulfs Nolan into the wet heat of his mouth. He pulls off languidly, the final movement echoing out. Propped up on a forearm, Travis continues to tend to the sensitive member.
It doesn’t take Nolan long to fall apart for the second time. You once again lose yourself in the sounds of his moans and the twist of his beautiful features. Arousal pools in your stomach as you watch him squirm again under Travis’ clothes form. He pulls off, leaving Nolan incoherent beneath him. Again, he swallows deeply. He sighs before moving towards the screen. You gulp under his dark gaze.
“Don’t think you got out of this scotch-free,” Travis snatches the computer from its resting place, moving so that Nolan’s crumpled form is just out of frame, “I’ll deal with you when I get home.”
@mathewbarzy @krissy-mcxox @nolans-patrick @hoe4hockey @hoemmazzello @natxpat @harrythewalkingtardis @peachnpomegranate @faanlovefiic @savedbytheholtby @laurelp @hockeypucksandschmucks @sighim-aho @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom @libby-rose-2016 @mixtapes-books @bnthomp256 @primerips @imaginethatlife @xx-randomshit-xx17 @pizzarandomness @top40popsong @bisexual-buckyeet @darkrose97
Still can’t believe some of y’all tried to diagnose Nolan with a mental illness
Lol I literally miss my abusive ex boyfriend because of you so thanks.
sir it might be the liquor