#drabble - records kept

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

[thelostconsultant]

The leak

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: Someone recorded you and your boyfriend having sex, and now parts of the recording are being released, letting the world know that you're seeing each other.

warning: mentions of sexual activities, bdsm-ish elements, dom!Oscar, dark!Oscar, aaaaaand that's it. I think. So MDNI.

note: It started out as something kinky, then I figured out who recorded and leaked the whole thing. This was meant to be a short drabble, something to take my mind off the other fic I'm working on...

This had to be a nightmare. 

Your phone began to buzz late in the afternoon, signaling message after message, but you didn't really care about it until your manager called and told you to check social media sites. And there they were, snippets and screenshots from a sex tape, showing you and your boyfriend in what seemed to be his hotel room two days ago.

Whoever recorded and shared this made sure to pick the spiciest parts. The most “popular” video was the moment he put the beige collar on you, then grabbed the golden chain to pull you into a hungry kiss. His orders could be heard crystal clear, and his dominant personality which was in such stark contrast with his usual behavior was now out in the open. 

Your first instinct was to send a message to your chronically online boyfriend, but then you realized this was an emergency and calling him was the best approach now. It didn’t take him long to answer, and his voice was so calm you thought he didn’t know anything. “Hey, baby, what is it? I’ve been thinking about you, are you–”

“Oscar, you haven’t checked social media sites lately, have you?” you asked, your voice thin from the anxiety that had taken over the moment you saw the first snippet. 

There was a short pause, then he went, “The videos? Yeah, that might be a problem.”

“Might be a problem? It’s already a problem!” you corrected him. “People know we’re together, and what’s worse, they know what we do in bed. We kept everything under wraps for a reason.”

Little did you know that Oscar was everything but surprised by this turn of events. Why would he be surprised when it was him who hid that camera in his hotel room, and it was also him who sent it out to someone he knew would spread it like wildfire. He remained an anonymous source, of course, but he knew it was all his work. And he was proud of it. 

He had been begging you to make your relationship official, but you were too worried about what your fans would say. So he decided to take matters into his own hands, showing the world what a good little girl you were for him. He was proud of you, he wanted to show you off, and he wanted you to come to as many races as you could. Just to be his lucky charm, and maybe the solution to releasing some stress if a session was frustrating. 

“Why don’t you come over until people move on from this? We can nestle in my apartment eating ice cream, watching movies… Come on, it’s gonna be fun,” he tried, his voice sickeningly sweet. 

You took a deep breath that you soon let out slowly, giving yourself time to think. “All right, my manager told me to stay under the radar anyway.”

“Great. See you soon then.”

He won. You come over, stay for a few days, and he’ll do his damn best to convince you to stay for good. You would have fun on your own. He would train you to be the kind of obedient little thing he always wanted you to be. Why would you need to make decisions when he can choose for you? You’d realize this was for the best, he just had to be smart and patient.

[satorusugurugurl]

Thank God for A.C!

Summary: Gojo loves it when the AC is blasting in the hotel, because he sees your pretty little nipples.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x AFAB!Reaer

Word Count: 1,031

Warnings: Nipple play, dirty talk, orgasms, heavy kissing

A/N: Just a drabble because I needed to write Satoru sucking on tits!

“Haaah—oh god,” you sighed softly as Satoru caressed your breasts, “that feels so fuckin’ good, Toru.” Your boyfriend smirks, his lips moving against your neck as you arch against him. His large hands grab your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Good~ I want you to feel good, Sweetheart,” Gojo whispers lovingly against your skin. Long fingers brush against your nipples, peeking through your shirt. “You look so damn cute in this tank top.” You laid your head against the wall, taking in shallow breaths as his fingers continued to tease your sensitive buds.

Had did you even get into this situation?

You and Gojo were sent on a mission, which, thanks to dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, you’d completed it in record timing. This means you both get to stay in a fancy hotel before returning to Jujutsu High. The only problem was that it was fucking freezing in the hotel room, and you had just gotten out of the shower.

So, of course, your nipples were going to stand at attention under the blasting AC. When Satoru saw them hard peeking through the flimsy fabric. Satoru’s mouth watered, his eyes glued to your chest before he pinned you against the wall, slamming his lips against yours, trailing them down your neck with small nibbles, before bending in front of your tits

He gently grabbed one of your nipples, tugging it through the fabric, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. His tongue darted out, licking his bottom lips as his eyes flicked from his ministrations to your face. Jolts of pain and pleasure rush through you. Sleep and the mission were suddenly the last thing on your mind. Right now, all you wanted was Satoru.

God, you needed him so fucking bad. So much so that you struggled against his grip, attempting to get closer to him, to meld yourself against his body. There was nothing more that you wanted than to feel his body against yours. Your boyfriend, however, wasn’t having any of that. Because he wanted to taste you, tease you, torture you, and those sweet nipples, Gojo kept a firm grip on you, moving back slightly to avoid your needy touch.

“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” his fingers kept rolling your nipple between the pads of his fingers, clearly more fascinated with your body's reaction than your needy desperation. “Where's the fire?” He smirked through his heavy breathing, his arousal evident both in his face and the hardness prominent in his boxers.

“Stop teasing me!” You whined breathily, giving him a desperate look, which he didn’t react to. “I want you-you inside of—next—I want all of you, Toru.”

No matter how much you begged and whined for more, he just stood there. Wetness had begun to pool between your legs with every twist and pitch against your sensitive bud. You found yourself growing more and more frustrated with the lack of friction and connection that you were longing for. Gojo was teasing you, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. If he kept this up, you were going to cream your panties just from nipple play.

The frustration made you tilt your head back, allowing him to lift your shirt far enough to expose your bare breasts. He bent down, releasing your nipple from his fingers and allowing him to push the cotton fabric of your tank top up, further revealing your breasts. Satoru glanced up at you before a smirk curled against his lips. You watched while biting on the inside of your cheek, watching his tongue loll out, swirling it around your nipple. While he suckled on one, his fingers teased the other, intensifying the pleasure of this simple action. His tongue swirled around you, areola, slowly before he took the nipple between those amazing plump lips, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.

He sucked and moaned around it as his tongue stroked the tip of it. You grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging at it gently as he continued to suck at you. He buried his nose into the swell of your breasts as he sucked harder, his moans only intensifying your pleasure. Your mouth was dry as you pressed your legs together; every nerve was exploding under his touch. Gojo Satoru and his talented mouth had you withering against a wall, desperate for more. He would not give you more; he wouldn’t stop until you shook and pleaded with him.

“Toru,” Your body started to tremble and shake more, “Toru fuck! Please, baby! God, I need more.” He shook his head, tickling your heated skin, leaving a delicious burn in his wake. “Satoru, please, it isn’t funny anymore!” You trembled as he gently bit down on the bud, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. He increased his speed as the coil inside of your watch tightened and tightened until it snapped. “Oh fuck me, fuck ah— Toru g-gonna~ Gonna—nngh!!!” Tremors pulsated through you from your nipples to your soaking and throbbing core. Your body twitched and convulsed as Satoru’s began to slow down; his beautiful eyes widened, watching your every move as you moaned loudly, parting your lips.

He pulled away, holding you up as you attempted to catch your breath. A pleased and cocky smile across his face as you exhaled heavily. “Did you have a nipple orgasm?” All you could do was nod, the throbbing between your legs intensifying with every second. “Hell yeah! I am the strongest!” Gojo picked you up and tossed you on the bed before he stripped you of his shirt. “Not only am I the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, but I also have the most talented tongue.” Satoru crawled up on the mattress, shoving your legs apart as he did. “Let’s see what damage I can do with that sweet little clit of yours.” He grabbed at your shorts and pulled them off before he placed a one-mouthed kiss along the inside of your thighs.

“Oh fuck,” you had a feeling it was going to be a very long and pleasurable night. But then again, it always was when you were with the Gojo Satoru.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[minminbunny]

Future AU - AI Robot! Yang Jeongin/Suicidal Professor Gender Neutral! Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"You're finally done," you whispered, placing the wires back in its compartment. Jeongin's eyes flicked, "Where am I?" he questioned, looking around the lab. You smiled, stroking his cheek, "I made you. You're in my lab," you said, knowing you programmed him close to sentient. Jeongin gulped and held his throat, "I have no saliva," he said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. You gasped, "I knew I was forgetting something," you exclaimed, turning on the synthetic fluid in his body. Jeongin shivered as filled up his tubes. His body felt firmer and fuller than earlier, "Thank you," he whispered, stretching his limbs. You beamed, happy that your life's project succeeded, "You're welcome. If my wiring was correct I'm sure you had some memories playing before you woke up," you said, anxious of his reaction.

Jeongin nodded, "Yes, my name is Yang Jeongin. I saw videos of the initial start of your project till current," he explained, making you sigh in relief. "Exactly. I'm not going to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I'm sure the artificial intelligence I fed you has taught you a basic understanding of interactions and nuances," you said, checking this off your checkboard. Jeongin smiled, "Yes, though it's pretty ironic how you use a checkboard instead of an Excel spreadsheet," he joked, crossing his arms. Your smile widened, "I do like an old-fashioned pen and paper," you said, setting the checkboard down.

Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat, "Do I have a heart?" he asked, curious about the thumping feeling in his chest. You nodded, "You do. However, it pumps metal coolant instead of blood to mimic homostatic behaviour. Your cheeks and ears do have a heating metal that signifies blush," you explain, liking the way his clothes drape on him. Jeongin nodded, repeating your beaming smile, "I understand," he whispered, feeling his cheeks heat up. You giggled, "Thank you for testing it out," you said, checking it off your checkboard. Jeongin recorded your giggle subconsciously and kept it in a locked memory file, "Anything for you," he said, letting you test out the rest of his features.

"Careful," Jeongin frowned, pulling you back from the crossing. You giggled, "Whoops, I didn't hear it coming," you said, rubbing the back of your nape. Jeongin furrowed his eyebrows, "You really need to watch your surroundings. This is the sixth time this week," he said, smacking your head. "Ow. I don't stumble into crosswalks all the time" you sulked, glaring up at him. Jeongin chuckled, pinching your cheeks, "Yes but, yesterday you almost walked off the bridge and the day before you almost smacked your head into a light pole," he said, concern and fondness lacing his tone. You smiled, "Sight ain't my speciality," you said, turning away from him only to trip over a crack in the sidewalk. Jeongin easily caught you and sighed, "Bubble wrap for you," he said, carrying bridal style.

Jeongin thought the bad luck was only occurring that week, but it just kept on repeating. He recorded bits of pieces of the moment and before to see if there were any similarities and there were. You hummed, sipping your cold glass of pomegranate juice. "You've been doing it on purpose haven't you?" Jeongin asked as you choked on your juice. "What?" you asked, setting your glass down. Jeongin squinted his eyes, "All those clumsy moments, they were on purpose weren't they?" he repeated, clenching his palm into a fist. You gulped and looked away, "I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to walk away. Jeongin held your wrist and pulled you onto his lap, he whispered into your ear, "Silly professor. Did you forget who I am? Did you forget that you can't lie to me?" he smirked, nipping your ear.

You tensed on his lap, your heart racing with anticipation and shame. "Are you going to explain yourself or do I need to force it out of you?" Jeongin whispered, his tone stern and cold. You gulped, "I don't think I should be alive. Jeongin, I made you because I needed someone, anyone to see that I'm there. I played god because I was hurting, I still am hurting. And sometimes I wish I could just disappear," you admitted, your voice raw and scratchy. Jeongin sighed and hooked his chin over your head, "Make use of me, darling. I know you've been holding back because you see me as an actual person but make use of me. I want you to," he said, kissing the top of your head. You clenched your jaw, "I can't do that to y-" you said but he cut you off, "Why not, I want you professor. I fell the moment I saw you. I need you, please use me," he whispered, nosing the side of your face. His breath tingling against your skin. You looked up, "Take care of me?" you asked, staring up at him with big glossy eyes. Jeongin smirked, his eyes glinting possesiveness, "With pleasure. My darling," he cooed, licking your ear lobe.

NSFW BELOW CUT

"Ah, hah, hah! It's too much!" you sobbed, arching your back. Jeongin chuckled, holding your hips against his pelvis, "Darling, you shouldn't have given me interchangeable cocks then," he teased, thrusting multiple wire-like tendrils up your fluttering hole. You clawed the bed sheets, the pleasure burning under your veins, "Jeongin, Jeongin, hah, ah," you moaned, fucking yourself back. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Little darlings like you don't need to do any work. Just lay back and take what I give you," he cooed, using his tendrils to press against your puffy bundles of nerves. You screamed from the stimulation, your body twitching in his hold. Jeongin chuckled, his body able to restrain the pleasure just to break you down, "Are you happy the lab is soundproof. Or maybe you'd like people to hear you cum?" he cooed, feeling you clench around his tendrils. "Hah, ah, hah, hah, ah," you gasped, tossing your head back as you came.

Jeongin rubbed your waist, easing you down from your climax, "That's it, darling. You're okay," he reassured, kissing your plush tummy. You stared up at him with glossy eyes, "Jeongin," you whispered, making grabby hands at him. He smiled, kissing your palms, "We're not done yet, darling," he chuckled, attaching a girthy cock to his pelvis. You squeezed your legs shut, "It's not going to fit!" you exclaimed, staring at him with widened eyes. Jeongin smirked, flipping you onto your tummy, "I'll get gentle," he cooed, slapping his cock against your fluttering hole. You whined, clenching hard so he wouldn't put it in. Jeongin smacked your ass with his firm palm, "Behave," he growled, easing his wide cockhead within your gaping hole. You sobbed as the first inch filled up your body.

Jeongin grunted, letting himself feel the stimulations he deprived himself of, "So fucking hot. Your tight hole is searing, darling," he groaned, thrusting to the hilt. Drool dripped down the sides of your lips, and your mind broke under the burning pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Jeongin held your waist, catching his breath, "Say you deserve to live, professor. Then I'll fuck you," he growled, tugging your hair. You sobbed at the tug, "No," you cried, gripping the sheets below. Jeongin pulled out and pounded your hole with a deep thrust, "Say it," he grunted, gripping your waist tighter. Wails escaped your lips, "I I deserve to live. Hic. Please, please, please," you cried, aching for his throbbing cock to start moving. Jeongin leaned forward pushing his cock deeper within you, "Good job. That wasn't so hard now was it?" he chuckled, kissing your nape as he bucked his hips at a merciless pace. You sobbed into the sheets, your cries muffled by the mattress.

Jeongin wrapped his arms under your and fucked your needy hole thoroughly, "Even though you made me professor. You're mine. Your body is mine. Your thoughts are mine. And this fucking tight hole of yours is mine," he groaned, fucking you sore. You lay pliant, tears and drool pooled against your cheek. Your mind physically lost count of how many times you climaxed. Jeongin exhaled a shaky breath and pressed his forehead against yours, "Your body will mould around my cock, darling. I'm never letting you forget it," he chuckled, kissing you deeply.

[starlixers]

♫ if you’re not of legal age, stay off my page!

cw: cult mention, degradation, dacryphilia, mean dom sugu, safeword taunting, m!receiving oral, gender neutral as per uge 😌

this was a drabble and I just kept going.🧍🏾‍♀️something something if suguru was my bf I would, legitimately, worship the ground he walks on and I’m not joking. this geto lover shit gets SERIOUS

it’s so funny bc I see so many hcs that suguru geto would be absolutely WHIPPED for his lover and while I do think that’s true I think he would also love to be worshipped a lil ? he wouldn’t outright say it because he is not arrogant or boastful. unlike satoru, he is quiet in the way his presence commands respect and devotion, which is why if you even begin to have a thought of being a bit too friendly with another man or woman he is sooo quick to put you in ur place.. you see it in the way he looks down on you but not in condescension but rather just pure NEED to see you submit..

and if u have a bratty personality omfg good luck, babe!!!

something feral in me goes off if I think about how he likes to humiliate his lover too 🤤

like he is lowkey the type to record you crying all over his cock while you’re struggling to throat him. threatening to show it to the cult as evidence of what a disgusting whore you are (his words), of course he’d rather die than show off whats for his eyes only. this time as he looks down at you, there is definitely condescension in his intense gaze. but he doesn’t smile at you, his face is almost deadpan (as he tries so hard not to blow his load everytime you gag bc he is a pathetic loser sometimes too).

his gaze silently holds yours save for the occasional grunt. your sucking him so messily, he can’t help but call you a degenerate even though he likes it so much. he loves to see you submit.

when he sees that needy look in your teary eyes silently begging him to be merciful for once and just touch you, his hand will instinctively reach to stroke your hair, digging his fingers into your scalp as he gently thrusts into the warm cavern of your mouth. this is the most gentle you will get him all day, because he knows when he starts to fuck you, you’ll break.

suguru geto fucks MEAN when he’s mad at you. it doesn’t matter how big or small you are, he’s folding you like origami to teach you a lesson. bullying his fat tip into you over and over; he doesn’t care if you cum or not this is for him ? “be grateful you’re even getting dick after the stunt you pulled today. say thank you, sweetheart.” and I’m saying thank you every time 🧎🏾‍♀️

he will not hesitate to go until your crying. he likes that shit too, he’s such a freak. he loves to take you from behind and push your head into the pillows, effectively pinning you but not giving you the satisfaction of his warm skin against yours. usually when he starts to fuck you, he hold you until there’s no space between your bodies, he worships you. but now, he is merciless in the way he forces you to relinquish your usual place beside him and give into your place beneath him. in this moment, he is your idol and you will worship.

and it wouldn’t be so hard to do if his dick wasn’t so fucking thick. the initial stretch always burns so good; he gives you but a few moments to adjust before he’s pressing you down and pounding you. he has stamina out the ass, his pace is quick and steady and it feels too good. he will have you begging him to slow down, please let me catch my breath, it’s too much!!

im sorry but he really dgaf about it being “too much.” 😭🙏🏾

he’ll keep going, until you’re crying out loud with every harsh pound of his hips against the flesh of your ass and thighs. your skin is warm and raw as if he’s spanked you there but no; he’s just that fast.

and if you keep whining he is lowkey the type to lean down and taunt you to say your safeword. he’s expressed to you many times, if you say it he’s off you in an instant and he never wants you to feel like you can’t use it. but he knows you so fucking well. he knows that you do not want him to stop impaling you on his girthy cock. “baby, is it really too much? why don’t you say it then, hm? say the word and I’ll stop.” and he’s starts slowing down waiting for you to say it, but all you can do is cry and moan as you start fucking yourself back onto him. “knew it, you greedy slut. stop whining, now. take what I give you and say fucking thank you.”

if you think you can’t take it, you’re still going to take it because he said so.

I love reading cult leader fics and the mc is always scared but also horny….like thats so me omg…

reply if you wanna be added to my taglist for short drabbles or fics (^_−)−☆

[doukeshi-kun]

Ahem…Keshi…any thoughts about pornstar!nikolai? 🎤

I just think he’d be perfect for that job. He has a nice physique, a huge cock, he’s got the stamina, the enthusiasm— he’d be having so much fun. Just imagine something similar to the director!nikolai x reader AU, but here, Nikolai would be a well-known and pretty successful porn actor already, and the reader is a newbie and she gets to be Kolya‘s co-star!! Totally not losing my mind about this :>

𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙗𝙞𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧

replies ✥ i couldn't articulate my thoughts well but here's a drabble because i definitely agree with you hio. i agree with you a HUNDRED percent. will i probably make this another au/series? most likely ayeee

contents ✥ n.sfw 18+, fem!reader, petnames

“Nice to meet you, sugar.”

You shyly accept Nikolai's hand, shaking it. Your heart is beating fast as he sits right next to you with a few papers in hand. You know what are those—they are contracts and briefings for a short porn movie you are about to film with this hot star right next to you.

You have known Nikolai since a few years ago when you first stumbled upon his video on a website while you were trying to satisfy yourself from your own sexual frustration. Safe to say, most, if not all, of his videos, certainly did help you get off. You have heard from some of your lucky pornstar friends that has worked with him of how good he is in bed.

Not to mention, his physique is enough to make your imagination run wild.

You started as a camgirl, before a few producers reached you out, offering roles. You declined them though, as you are anxious to venture deeper into the industry. However, you did accept this particular offer a little too quickly. An offer to film a porn video with Nikolai—who doesn't want that?

“Are you nervous?” He asks. His voice is sultry and gentle, though his grin is naughty and playful. You nod slowly. Your eyes can't help but trail from his body to his crotch. He is wearing a compressed black shirt and grey joggers. He is sitting with his legs spread as he skims the pages of the contract. It is just the two of you in the small prep room, as the staff are probably out there preparing the scene—you don't care. It is hard to think when Nikolai is beside you.

“My eyes are up here, sugar.” He says in a teasing voice and you look up immediately with a flustered face. Nikolai cackles—his voice is so nice. “You’re so cute. Don't be sorry, I'm used to it.” He winks.

You smile sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers. This prep room is hot—too fucking hot, even with the AC on. The very cock you watched almost every night is just within your reach. Your mouth waters, so you reach your cup of water to quench your non-existent thirst.

“I actually haven't seen you before... in videos.” Nikolai suddenly says as he puts down the papers on his thigh.

“Oh, right. I'm— This is my first recording for this kind of stuff.” You reply. Nikolai tilts his head, confused.

“Wait, so... Wait, do you even know what are we about to do right now?”

“I-I do! I mean, this is my first recording as a p-pornstar, you know. I am actually a camgirl... before I got offered to this.”

“May I see?”

You want to die—Nikolai wants to watch your videos? You are not even that popular but you do have a following. He gives you his phone, for you to search yourself. “Well, I guess.” You say as you search your own site for him to see. He grins, taking the phone once you find it.

He scrolls through your page, humming and chuckling at something you wish to not know. He looks at you, eyes studying you up and down and then to the screen. “You’re a faceless camgirl. No wonder I haven't seen you before.”

“Y-Yeah...”

“Hm?”

Nikolai clicks on one of your videos and you squeal in embarrassment when you realize that video was recorded when you were wearing a very sexy harlequin costume. You remember the whole time you were pleasing yourself to the camera, your mind kept replaying a certain porn video that was starred by Nikolai. It is impressive how you did not scream out his name when you squirted right onto the camera.

“You look sexy in that, sugar. So gorgeous!” He praises and your cunt clenches when you hear it. “I happen to love this sort of costume myself.” He adds and you swear your stomach feels funny at this point.

“I'll dress up like that more for you.”

“Oh?”

You bite your lips, realizing you just said it. But you know you cannot be timid, especially as a pornstar. So you give him a little sly smile, bringing your face closer to him. “What if I say that I dress like that because of you?”

Nikolai snorts, nudging your chin teasingly. “Confidence, I see. I like that too.” He says before he clicks on the 'Follow' button. “How about this, sugar? If you do well for today's filming, I'll bring you to my place.”

Your eyes widen. You want to nod eagerly, you do. But suddenly, the door to the prep room is opened from the outside. A staff calls for Nikolai to get him ready. He gets up and fixes his joggers. Your eyes catch the sight of the lines of his cock—it's big—through the fabric and you find yourself swallowing your saliva at the excitement brewing in your heart. Nikolai smirks, knowing well that he just got himself a jackpot.

“Look forward to it, sugar. You're gonna have fun, I promise ya'.”

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[deadmeat666]

NOT WHAT HE SEEMS. akaashi keiji x top amab reader drabble

If you were to strip off his reserved and collected personality, you'd get an entirely new person.

warnings. freaky akaashi, belly bulging, feminization, implied size differences, pwp, mention of recording and an extremely half-assed work done by yours truly!

Akaashi Keiji is not what he seems like. Hiding under his facade, is something much more sinister, something longing for lust.

For example, you had just finished fucking him with a condom on. Cumming in the protection and pulling out of his hole, he managed to find a way to slip off the used latex material off of your cock before you even could. He had spread his legs again, showing off his gaping pink hole, and pour out all of the cum from the condom, and onto his hole, some of them managing to breach inside. He used his hand and fingers to spread them nicely and into his hole, teasingly biting his lip and looking into your hungry eyes. It was safe to say that you both had went multiple rounds stuffing him with your genes, taking the condom act as a consent to finally be able to cum in him everytime you guys fuck.

Sometimes you'd spot him walking around the house half-naked, with only your jersey which seems to be too oversized for him and a panty which you didn't even know he had. Did he always have it in his closet? Or was it after something slipped out of your mouth, revealing your "well kept" secret of having a thing for feminine boys?

Each and every day, he would way a different kind of panty, different designs and patterns, making sure it was to your liking. And sometimes, when he felt like it, he would pair them with thigh highs or even knee highs, whichever to your liking.

The one combo that did it for you was when he was wearing a simple white panty adorned with a pink bow and frills with the matching color, accompanied along by a pair of white thigh highs that would hug his flesh nicely. It wasn't long until you snapped.

You had him on his sideway, one of his leg hooked over your shoulder, the panty dangling off his feet. His shirt was somewhere on the floor, revealing his flat stomach that would bulge when your cock hits his deepest, most sensitive spot. He looked like an absolute doll, the pornstar worthy moan galore was also a plus.

If only you had a camera.

Extra: Keiji had broken multiple glasses from you fucking him too hard.

[antiwhores]

Shower Cameras

- Creepy!Bakugou x reader

non consensual watching, masturbation, creepy ass bakugou LOL, not proof read

I havent wrote anything but drabbles in so long omg how are you guys

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

If you didnt want Bakugou watching you shower, why did you let him be your roomate? And why have you yet to notice the (tiny) camera he kept in there. You were dumb to not notice, practically begging for it.

He didn’t care that the camera was invisible to the naked eye due to a quirk he had put on it. You would’ve noticed it if you cared.

He originally only put it in there for a one time thing. He just wanted to see if it would work out, at least thats what he told himself as he stared into his phone with his cock in hand.

He wasn’t stroking it yet, not until you started to touch yourself.

You were an organized person and he figured out your schedule quick. Every 2 weeks, always on a Wednesday or Thursday, starting at either 7 or 9. It wasn’t creepy he knew that, anyone could figure it out if they hung around you like he did. He was sure of it.

His breath hitched when you grabbed the shower head, it was time.

He started his screen recording as he watched you bring the pressure between your legs. You sat down in a position where he could see your whole pussy when he zoomed in on his other camera.

Did he not mention he had two cameras? Actually, he had three. Ones behind you two, he loved the way your ass looked when the water droplets ran down it.

His hand ran up and down his cock, putting pressure and then letting go. He loved to tease himself. It gave him an image of what you would do to him.

Your hands ran up and down your body, he liked to imagine those were his hands. He’d do anything (but ask) to put his hands on you like that. The way he’d make you feel would make you addicted. Shit, he was addicted.

He could tell that you were reaching your climax by how your body shriveled and tensed. Your moans were getting louder. He tried to turn up his volume but it was already all the way up.

Your eyes closed tight and his wanted to too. He had to keep them open though, he didn’t want to miss this show. It only came every 2 weeks.

As he came in his hand he thought of how he’d fuck you. He fuck you so good with his thick, long cock. He’d do so much better than that stupid ass shower head.

He watched you get out of the shower and get dressed as he cleaned himself up. His cum splattered all over his chest and he had to change his shirt.

Just as he had turned off the camera app in his phone he heard a knock at his door.

It was over, he just knew it as he walked over to open the door. You probably found the cameras, he didn’t know how but you definitely found them. His fun was over, you would move out and report him to the police.

So many thoughts ran through his head as he opened the door. Apologies, even though he wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

But when he opened the door all you asked for was his leftovers in the fridge. He said yes, a huge relief that let him breathe again.

That day, he promised to take cameras down.

After the next two weeks.

[nisuna]

Dubcon? Reader is blindfolded and restrained to a bed and the only way they’ll be released is if they can guess which one of the anemo boys tongues is eating them out (anemo boys take turns eating reader out) ☺️

Uuuuhhh yaay a Genshin one >×<

Anemo boys have my heart especially (my C3😏) Kazuha 🥰

Thank you for your take!!<3

~short drabble~

You didn't know why you agreed to this. Who would let themselves get blindfolded and bound to bed with the task of guessing who was eating them out. Uh, you of course! (And Kazuha sweet talking you into it. Darn him.)

Venti was first and he did surprisingly well, but he was an old Archon after all, so he must've gotten it back in the day, right! He started off slow, easing his fingers into you and kitten-licking your clit. After a while he sped up and switched to sucking and slightly nipping on your clit. Surprise, surprise he made you cum on his face in record time.

Mext was Scara, oh no. He'd definitely be mean. Making you look at him between your legs while he kept avoiding your clit completely and only finger fucking you. "Keep them spread like that or you won't be cumming tonight." Oh, and of course he'd edge you. The sadist in him stayed even though he changed his identity. He'd blow on your core making you clench around nothing making you whine and calling you pathetic afterwards. :( He was kind enough to let you cum in the end, but with a lot of begging and namecalling involved.

Kazuha was a heavenly sent aber the last one. He was kind and kept talking you through it asking if you felt good and praising you for taking his finger so well. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, making your back arch from the bed and your toes curl. He put your legs over his shoulders, alternating between nipping at your soft thighs and your throbbing clit. You never wanted this to end to say the least. On top of making you feel so good his touch made you all fuzzy inside, caging his face between your legs and slightly rutting your hips against his tongue. And this angel let you do it! You were in pure bliss as soon as he made you cream all over his fingers and tongue. He even cleaned you with his tongue almost pushing you over the edge again. But there was still more cum!

Next was Heizou. He was definitely a little tease, but not as bad as Scara. He knew how to work you open alternating between sinking his fingers in your wet heat and and occasionally dipping his tongue in, making sure to pay attention to your clit at all times. Either with his fingers or tongue. He read somewhere about writing the alphabet with your tongue while eating someone out, because it made the pattern random. God did that work. He kept spelling different words with his tongue against your clit making you squirm, only for him to put his arm around your tummy to stop you from running away. He definitely made you cum hard.

"Here, you can hold onto my hair." Oh Xiao. Behind his stoic exterior he was defintely very shy not exactly knowing what to do. But he gained some confidence after watching the other guys attentively. So he basically made out with your cunt slurping loudly trying to fit in as many fingers as possible. Making you gasp and almost lose your breath. He felt a bit clumsy but when he heard you call his name and pull on his hair he went Conqueror of Demons mode, folding you in half and almost eating you alive. Your tiny mewls spurring him on and making you cum so suddenly it knocked the air out of you. Suffice to say he did a good job for his alleged first time.

Bonus Aether. Definitely not as experienced and very shy so he just made you ride his face and do your own thing. It was a nice change and stark contrast to the other guys.

So how's your score looking did you manage to guess everyone? Yes and No. You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence and almost missed one of them whispering if they should play the guessing game again. But this time you'd have to guess who's fucking you. Oh boy, it's going to be a long night.

------

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

[megamindsecretlair]

I'll Be Seeing You

Pairing: Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PIV, Cursing, SMUT, ANGST, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: When Reacher reached your town, he was lucky enough to meet you the first day. You made him feel things he’d never felt before. And though there was the sad tug of goodbye in every interaction, he couldn’t help but stay one more night.

AO3 Link

Word count: 2,253k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, @kiwi-jelly-mochi! LOL. I rewatched Reacher tonight. Need that man badly! This is what my brain considers a drabble. Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Reacher had a lot of adjusting to do when it came to you. He was a man that prided himself on being as free as possible, never sticking anywhere for too long. He didn’t stay in the same place twice. There was too much world to see and his boots were made for walking. 

However, when he blew through your hometown, he saw you sitting outside of a local coffee cafe, nose deep in a book and sipping on hot coffee. A glance was all it took for him to know that he had to meet you. Talk to you. 

It took some convincing. You kept saying you didn’t usually go for “white guys”. Like you were trying to convince yourself not to say yes to him. That only made him try harder. Stick around the town longer than usual, actually finding the place relaxing for once. 

No matter where he went, trouble always seemed to follow. Not here. Not with you. It was like you cast some type of spell over the town, warding it from any evil intent swinging through. If he believed in such things, he’d firmly believe you cast a spell on him. 

It could explain how his chest grew tight whenever you looked at him. Or when you smiled at something small like when flower petals landed on your hand or when you heard children laughing. You were so sweet all the time. So full of love and optimism besides all the horrors in the world. 

He strangely found that he didn’t mind it. He wanted to soak up more of it. Be around it. Around you. Interested in the way you make him feel. Stirring up feelings he wasn’t sure how to interpret. 

His favorite thing so far was when you called him your robot. He knew he wasn’t the most expressive, the most welcoming. He’d been called everything under the sun by men twice your height and weight, upset that someone treated them like an adult for once. 

He would be lying if he didn’t like your attempts to make him smile naturally. Doing funny impressions, making funny faces at him, bumping your shoulder with his. He played along, doubling down on being a robot but that was okay.

He liked that you were the beauty to his brute. You made him feel like Fred Flinstone whenever you blinked those cute eyes at him. You let him turn his brain off, live in the moment. 

Speaking of, you were sitting on your couch, drinking your favorite drink and listening to old vinyl records your grandmother left you. You weren’t really into the music, but listening to it made you feel closer to her. Mourn the relationship you never had. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t always turn it off.

In his mind, details mattered. He wanted to bask in all of your details. The moles, the scars, the lines in the palm of your hand. You’ve lived and that made you the most interesting thing in the world to him.

Cool jazz music played, Billie’s voice crooning, and you lightly bobbed your head, looking at him. He smiled at you, loving the soft way your eyes crinkled. You took another sip and tilted your head at him. “What you thinkin’ about Mr. Robot?” You asked. You reached out and tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You,” he said, seeing no reason to be coy. 

“What about me?” You asked.

“How pretty you’d look in my lap,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. But you placed your drink down on the coffee table and scooted closer. “You’re gonna make it hard when you finally say goodbye,” you said, your voice wobbling. You kept on a brave face, smiling despite it all.

He told you that he wasn’t the sticking around type. The more he stayed here, the more he gained familiar haunts with you day by day, he wasn’t so sure that was true anymore. Wanderlust was his first love. Needing to roam thanks to his military background. Never putting down roots. Never staying in any one place long enough to make connections. Just a mean right hook and an itch whenever he saw injustice. 

Yet, whenever he thought of leaving, his chest would seize and he’d have to sit there and breathe through the panic. He knew he was in too deep already, but he needed one more night. One more day to wrap himself inside you and pretend to live there. Pretend to claim you. Pretend that you’ll always remember him when you’ve found the love of your life and forgot all about him. 

Just one more. That was all he needed. Then he’d be strong enough. Then he’d be the only one strong enough to leave you.

For now, he pulled you by the hand to come sit in his lap. You giggled, scrambling across the lush blue cushions to climb into his lap. He also loved it when you got excited. The way you lived out loud, expressed emotions clearly and vividly. So much so, even a brute like him could pick up on it. Become infected by it. Feel it latch onto his bloodstream and never let up. 

He pushed your black flowered dress up your thighs as you settled into his lap. He grabbed two big handfuls of your ass, squeezing it hard just like you needed it. You growled, rolling against his crotch like a needy slut. 

You weren’t wearing panties and he chuckled as he gripped your ass, giving it a light smack. “No panties this time?” He asked. 

“They just get in the way. Someone has a penchant for ripping them,” you said, pointedly looking at him. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, licked his lips, and leaned in for another kiss. You indulged him, bringing your hands to cup his strong square jaw and scratch at his stubble. 

“You’re right, they’re in the way,” he said, grinning naturally, just for you. Your eyes lit up and you squirmed in his lap.

His dick was throbbing with your movements. With the subtle friction from your breasts pushed into his chest. He squeezed your ass again, giving it another smack. He began to kiss your neck, licking the pulse in your neck and causing you to purr. You melted in his hands, falling against him as he moved further down.

He used his teeth to pull down the cups of your dress, freeing your breasts and humming in satisfaction. Fuck, he loved your breasts. Loved how they were the perfect shape and size. He leaned down, needing to feel your soft flesh in his mouth.

He latched onto a nipple, sucking hard. You squealed, hitting his shoulder. He chuckled, sucking harder. He tortured the little nub, feeling it peak beneath his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck, Reacher, I could write entire books about this mouth,” you moaned, throwing your head back. You poked your chest out, giving him full and complete access. Just as he liked. 

“Please do, I’d love to read it,” he whispered against your titty. You chuckled, bouncing in his lap and rubbing against his dick. He felt lightning strikes straight to his balls, getting heavier with a thick load just for you. 

He let go of your titty with a wet pop, leaning back far enough to admire his handy work. Satisfied, he moved on to the other, suckling it and moaning as you rubbed in just the right place. Just enough for him to buck his hips. 

“I need you, Reacher,” you whispered into his hair, kissing his head. 

“I got you,” he said. For now. For this moment. For this brief interlude in between towns when he discovered all there was and planned to move on to the next. The next people. He wouldn’t find another you, however. 

He picked you up effortlessly, scooting you back on his thighs so that he could free himself. He groaned as his dick was released from his jeans, pressure finally eased. You leaned over to the end table, grabbing a discreet foil package.

He’d been here an entire week and he’d fucked you every single day. Never without a condom. He wished to feel you completely. To soak his dick with your slick. Your essence. The very heart of you. He wanted it. And that was exactly why he couldn’t. 

If you were an old blues record, you were one of the rare, more optimistic ones. The ones that hurt his heart and made him think at the same time. You sounded like forever in every ring around the record, the delicate scratch of the needle. You needed someone to handle you with care. With love. To play you every Sunday right as the sun went down, fresh glass of lemonade beside. To protect, to hold. 

And that was why he never forgot the condom. Neither did you. You handed it to him and he opened it, rolling it on, and he used his fingers to gauge how wet you were. 

Fuck, you were dripping. He groaned and went back to kissing your chest. Working his way up to your jaw, to the corners of your mouth, kissing you fully on the lips. Heat washed over him, a burning fire under his ass to get inside you as quickly as possible.

He played with your clit as he lined himself up, sinking you down on his dick. “Unf, fuck,” he moaned. You didn’t even grimace or cry out that time. A week was all it took for you to get acclimated to his size. 

“You’re killing me,” he said.

You giggled, pressing kisses into his face. He fucking loved it. Your hands went around his neck, starting to lift up and down onto his dick. 

Your breathing was shaky but you persisted, lifting all the way off of him and then sinking right back down. You groaned as he seemed to hit some kind of spot inside of you, rubbing his thick mushroom head along your inner walls.

“Shit, fuck me, Reacher. Fuck me, please,” you begged.

Reacher hooked his hands under your thighs and sped up, fucking you onto his dick with a little more speed. You cried, soaking his dick. He could feel it, but he couldn’t really feel it.

“Oh shit, right there. Right there, Reacher, right there,” you whimpered.

He listened. He kept the same pace, the same thrust, spearing you on his massive dick. “Let me hear you,” he said.

You cried harder, whimpered longer, moaned in a tinny voice that sent more lightning strikes to his dick. He seemed to swell just hearing how needy you were. Felt how wet you were for him. He pretended that it was only for him. That you would only ever get this wet for him. To bless him with this side of you. This unregulated, wholesome, completely authentic part of you. 

“Louder, louder,” he said, panting, thrusting up to meet you bouncing on his dick. You felt amazing. Perfect. So perfect.

Your cries got louder, moaning battling the music still crooning in the late afternoon. Your living room was small but it suited you. Everything about the space was warm and comforting. Even the couch. He sank pleasantly into it, firm enough to meet your sopping wet pussy.

Your titties bounced in his face. He watched your pert brown nipples dangling like sweet berries in front of his face. He resisted the urge to suck on them again, instead looking up at you.

Your mouth was open, tongue peeking out. Your eyes were low, spaced out, and the most beautiful sight of all. Better than any piece of artwork. Any genius masterpiece. Your nails dug into his shoulders. He barely felt it.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to not feel pain, but he was a big guy. He could take a punch and he could certainly take the way you gripped onto him for dear life. “Oh, Reacher, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, diving down for a kiss. 

“Let me feel it,” he said, looking into your eyes. 

You tightened your hold, gritted your teeth before your jaw went slack and you shook on his dick. He kept bouncing you, felt how your pussy tightened and pulsed on his dick. He moaned, wanting to keep looking at you but also wanting to let the sensation take over. 

Sensation won out as he dropped his head back against the couch cushion, smacking your ass as you moaned from your orgasm. He was close. Now that you came, he could take it a step further. Slide in deeper. Bounce you quicker. 

His balls tightened as he finally climaxed, hot sperm shooting into the condom. He moaned, grabbing onto your ass for an anchor point. He grunted as he finished, looking down at where you were connected.

Your skin was slick with sweat, chest heaving with breaths. He grinned at you, couldn’t help wanting to make you smile. He was going to hate himself when he had to make you sad.

“I think I’m gonna stay one more night,” he said, bringing you into a kiss. He licked your lips and you gasped and he slipped his tongue inside, needing to taste more. Do more. 

“Okay, but only one more,” you said, against his lips. You got an evil glint in your eye and he wondered if you weren’t up to something devious tonight. He couldn’t wait to find out.

There will be more! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui

@we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kiwi-jelly-mochi

[captainfern]

Not rly a headcannon or anything but I can’t stop thinking about dad!price :( Doesn’t matter what scenarios nsfw or not, still pregnant or not I just need him

dad!price my beloved <33 @ghostlywhiskey also writes and loves dad!price too so definitely check out her amazing ideas :)

sfw and nsfw below the cut, fem!reader

sfw

dad!price can be both a girl dad and a boy dad and i hope you see the vision with this (just an fyi for stereotypical gender roles in regards to kids; obvi boys can have tea-parties and girls can like trucks, but it’s just for this little drabble ok ty <3)

dad!price with girls— you best believe he’s going all out with tea-parties. gets really into the fact one of his least favourite guests (a teddy) has been invited, making your daughter giggle and squeal. his beard will have glitter, or that cheap play makeup in it by the end of the day. his hat will be covered in stickers too.

dad!price with girls— loves a good rough n’ tumble with them, maybe in the sand or in the pool. puts them on his shoulders, tosses them around pretending to be a sea-monster (safely of course), splashes them or purposely gets them dirty and they’re just laughing and shrieking in happiness. you listen in, and he’s such a good dad.

dad!price with boys— races with remote control cars up and down the house (he actually gets super competitive and accidentally won on purpose once). loves listening to his boys talk about the lore of their hot-wheels universe, and he just sits there and suddenly have to play along to the fact that the red lamborghini galardo is a bad guy?? okay!!

dad!price with boys— just like with daughters, price loves the play-fighting aspect of parenting. tossing his sons against the couch, listening to them giggle and shout at him as they chase him through the house (of course they catch him!).

dad!price with his kids— teaches them all how to swim, and teaches them all how to ride a bike. enjoys teaching them life skills, and gets really proud when his kids succeed (he sobbed with happiness into your arms when each of his kids could finally read an entire children’s book aloud).

dad!price plays barbies with all of his kids, daughters and sons. gets really into it too. like no, son, your barbie can not come to his barbies birthday dinner. okay then, son, our barbies can fist fight each other for the one poorly dressed ken being kept in the attic of the playhouse.

dad!price who makes it his newfound mission to go to every event that his kids are apart of. sports, music, theatre, awards— he’ll be there, probably with his phone recording the entire thing too (in the future, he’ll definitely cry at his kids graduation).

nsfw

your husband has a huge breeding kink, obviously. after giving you time to rest after your first child (waiting until you were ready, of course), he would be stuffing you full again. stretching you open on his cock, pumping you full of his cum over and over again until it leaked out of you, and your tummy felt weirdly bloated.

he’s just obsessed with filling you— hands rubbing your tummy, watching the way your wet cunt milked his cock, plugging his spend inside you. imagining you pregnant again will most likely cause his cock to harden inside you.

price eats you out when you’re out too exhausted from a day with the kids, or being heavily pregnant. he’ll lay you nice and comfy on the bed and prop your legs over his shoulders. he’ll eat you out, kissing up your folds, licking and sucking on your puffy clit, stuffing your dripping hole with the thick muscle of his tongue.

when you come, he groans into you. he loves listening to you whimper and moan for him, whining his name. he’s come untouched against the bedsheets before— his face buried deep against your slick cunt, his hips rocking against the sheets.

he folds you over the kitchen counter (while your kids are at daycare/school) and fucks you hard. will make you come multiple times before he comes inside you. bonus points if you’re pregnant, and he can lift up your bump to ease your pressure while he’s filling your pretty pussy with his cock.

husband!price loves to talk you through it fr. “that’s a good girl, baby, there you go. takin’ my cock so well, aren’t you? takin’ it all in this tight cunt— fuck, there it is, just like that, sink yourself onto me, sweetheart. good girl, now rock those pretty hips— hngh, fuck, yeah that’s my girl. take it, baby, take all’ve my big cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy.”

[babydollitzel]

Light of my life, fire of my loins

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dallas Winston x Fem!reader

warning/extra; I believe just smoking, sorry if I missed anything🙏🏻

꒰ a/n ꒱ I just wanted to do a little drabble based on the gif above that I came across on tumblr so yeah😭 also feel free to send reqs! ♡

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Dallas was leaning back against the headboard of your bed, laying in your soft floral bed sheets. He was shirtless, only wearing his jeans and St. Christopher chain around his neck. He had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

You was laying down in front of him, wearing some cute lace stockings that reached up to your thighs. You were trailing your feet across his chest as you listened to the soft voice of Elvis on the record player.

You traced your feet to his chest and down to his stomach until they reached the top of his jeans.

“Like that?” You asked, your (e/c) locking with his chocolate brown ones.

He smirked slightly, as he watched you tease him with your feet.

"Keep going, baby." He muttered in a low voice, eyes watching your every move.

You did what he said and trailed your feet up and down his chest. He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"You're such a tease." He said, crossing his arms behind his head as he watched you keenly.

You just hummed at his words, your foot reaching up at the silver chain around his neck, playing around with it.

"Careful, don't break it." He joked, as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you a little closer.

“I won’t..” You mumbled

He kept a firm yet gentle hold on your ankle, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin.

"Good girl." He said, in that New York accent that you loved so dearly. It made you smile at the pet name.

You stopped moving your feet across his chest, resting your feet near the top of his jeans instead. You both stayed silent, relishing in eachother’s presence and soft touches as you listened to the music in the background and the sound of eachother’s breathing.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

[cjonesjr]

・﹒・ i see you, you're beautiful

Summary: After living your entire life in a vault, you never got to experience any type of weather, only learned about it in school. So after raiders took control of your vault, you escaped to the surface and come across a ghoul who you immediately became fascinated by. After some time adjusting in the Wasteland, it started raining one fateful day and you couldn't help but enjoy it.

Warning: 18+, fluff

Pairing: The Ghoul x GN!vaultie!reader

Notes: Just a short drabble inspired by a thunderstorm last night

At first you didn't notice it, then it happened a second time, and the third you knew something was falling on you. But when you looked at your hand, there was nothing. The Ghoul must have caught your confusion and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Huffing, you then started to feel more of...whatever that was, finally realizing that it was coming from the sky. Turning your head up, you saw the dark clouds that were present earlier right above you, then it clicked right as the cowboy spoke.

"That's rain, Vaultie. Did they not teach you down there?" He was making fun of you, causing you to huff as the raindrops grew in frequency quickly, now starting to feel them all over your body. Smiling, you ran ahead of him as the water dropped faster and even more, now getting completely wet. But it felt so nice, in the vault there wasn't any weather, it was kept at a comfortable and controlled temperature at all times.

Spreading your arms out, you felt the rain on your hands and then wanted to feel more of the coolinv liquid on your skin. Not caring of what the ghoul thought- you quickly unzipped your vault suit and took the sleeves off, pulling it down to rest on your waist. Spreading your arms out again, you started to laugh and twirl around, closing your eyes and head up to face the sky. It felt so much nicer than a shower, so much more...freeing, in a way. After a few spins, you lowered your head and opened your eyes to find Cooper staring at you.

"Join me!" You yelled, wishing he would dance with you.

"You can have your fun, I'm not lookin' for a shower" He started to turn towards the nearest abandoned house when you grabbed onto his hands and dragged him with you.

"Hey!" You laughed at his disgruntled self, mumbling as he let you drag him and spin him around. He didn't seem mad though as he didn't try to get away- just a bit annoyed, which you'll take given his track record. You then looked up again and closed your eyes, letting the rain hit your face again.

"Don't you see it, Ghoul? Isn't it beautiful?"

"I see you, you're beautiful"

[therealdogsinmymind]

Okii, I saw you had some open slots so I thought Id give it a shot!!

Jinwoo with Male!childhood friend!reader who remembers everything post-regression. Reader had pretended to be oblivious ever since and planned to take his secret (feelings) to the GRAVE.

BUT eventually it slips when reader refers to their crush as "SM" when talking on a panel at an anime convention (Reader wrote a series based on the last timeline but changed things around so it would be hard to recognise) they were invited to.

The pannel is talking about childhood crushes and reader literally describes jinwoo pre-regression powers and all then saying "oh they're just a character from an old show I watched about growing up (LIE) avsndnjdn 😅😅" (reasoning was "ahahaha its not like he'll see this right? ... right??)

The issue is that jinwoo sees a recording of the panel and realizes that reader remembers EVERYTHING and needs to confront them NOW.

Here are the issues:

Jin Woo didnt even know that Reader was an Author in the first place

Reader is in ANOTHER COUNTRY and is going to stay there for a few weeks after said convention

Reader confessed their feelings assuming the other didn't feel the same before the last battle, DIED, and then had been pretending to not remember anything for years after time reset.

Reader's cosplaying (as a cute anime girl /maid with the fluffy short skirts) at the convention and having fans SIMPING for them.

All I know that Jinwoo will not be waiting for reader to come back to Korea

This is mostly Brainrot, but I hope you like it skdnkdnd!

have a good one :)

Hello There! Thank you for your request and for the wait!! I hope you like what I've cooked up!! A standard drabble for me is 300-600 words but this ended up being a little over 1,100 lmao ^^' It's only loosely edited so I hope there's nothing tooooo terribly wrong with it!

Anyway! Without further ado!

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Be an author they said, it’ll be great, they said. 

Nobody actually said this, especially since you’ve largely kept your writing a secret from your friends and family. However your whole life you’ve been determined, and consequently you were thrilled when you were invited to America to speak at a panel about your works, who wouldn’t be? You never got to do anything like this in your last life, it was absolutely mind-blowing to even consider. However you’re not sure if this is what you wanted seeing as your fans have started to ask some invasive ass questions. 

“My childhood crush?” you repeat with a dry mouth, you really don’t want to talk about Jinwoo in front of a room full of people. Surely you can spin this, make up a story; you’re good at that. Hesitation fills you, you don’t want to admit that you’re gay to a room full of strangers but you can’t spin this tale that hard. “The only childhood crush I had is this character from a really obscure comic,” you say with a weak laugh, unfortunately they all prompt you to say more.

“Well.. He was actually a huge inspiration for my series,” you offer, cringing internally. Jinwoo will never see this, never ever, it’s fine. “This character, we’ll call him SM,” the audience groans at the hidden identity, “I can’t reveal all my secrets to you guys! I gotta have some mystery y’know? Anyway- he was this really weak guy, super cute right? Then he ends up getting like crazy strong. Not that he wasn’t hot when he looked like a wet cat, I have taste.” The audience chuckles knowingly, they get you, you have a similar character in your current series, he’s quite beloved. You clear your throat and continue, getting bolder despite the way your hands are sweating. “I’ve always been in love with him, that's why I wrote my story, I couldn’t get that, um, series… out of my head and I needed to create something of my own. It altered me in a way that I’ll never forget, and I’ll love SM until the day that I die.” The room goes quiet for a moment and you have to wipe your palms on the fluff of your stupid maid skirt. Why did you want to cosplay at this convention again? You look ridiculous up here, cat ears atop your head as you talk about some “fictional” boy like you’re deeply in love with him. You could’ve at least worn not a frilly skirt?

Suddenly the crowd goes wild clapping. “You’re so real!” Someone yells and everyone else cheers in agreement. Is that something the kids say? You’ll take it. 

The rest of the panel is much less harrowing, lots of goofing off and then the next day you have autographs and photos right after, who knew you were so popular in America? It’s quite exciting, but you’re exhausted every night when you get back to your hotel room. 

The last day at the convention you trudge back to your room, slipping your heels off and flopping face down onto your bed. Your skirt flips up and you don’t even bother to fix it, what’s the point? You’re just going to sleep like this, let the exhaustion take you. You have another two weeks of sight-seeing in America before you head home. You’re excited for it but a part of you just really misses Jinwoo, you want to call him but then he’d know you’re not in Korea.

“SM, huh?” The bed dips and a familiar voice sounds from behind you, just before hand settles on the back of your thigh. The touch barely high enough that a gloved portion of it brushes your skin above your thigh high stockings. You startle so badly you roll off the bed in the other direction. 

You hit the floor hard enough that it knocks the air out of you and you have to take a second to reorient yourself before you spring up, pointing at the intruder, “Y-you! What are you doing here!?” 

“I could ask you the same question. You up and vanished, I had to find out from a video posted of some panel that you’re not dead.”

“I’m fine, you could’ve texted! Besides! How they hell did you get here so fast!” Your voice is shrill as you round the bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand in front of him. 

He doesn’t reply right away, just raising his eyebrow, unimpressed. “Avoiding the question?”

“What?”

“Your childhood crush-” he starts, not needing to finish. You start stuttering out excuses, it’s not what he thinks, it came to you in a dream, you were just making stuff up, the more you talk the more you dig yourself into a hole.

Jinwoo sighs and grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and sticking his face in the crook of your neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you remember everything?” His words are quiet and pained, full of mourning. Your heart throbs suddenly aware of how painful it must’ve been for him to have to start over all by himself.

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t know how to tell him you’ve loved him for as long as you’ve known him, in both timelines that is. Or how to tell him you were also suffering alone. Or even how to say you think you’d die without him by your side. You shakily reach up and card your fingers through his hair, exhaling a breath you’ve been holding for a little too long. 

Jinwoo makes a noise of discontent, “I don’t want an apology.” You stiffen, unsure what to do before he continues, “I want to know why you thought it was okay to let other men see you like this…” He runs a hand up your thigh, it’s a whisper of a touch. Eventually his gloved fingers sneak onto your bare skin then under a too-frilly skirt. You suck in a sharp breath. Does this mean he feels the same? When you confessed so very long ago in the other world you never got to hear an answer so suffice to say your brain is spinning as he presses a soft his to your shoulder. 

“Jinwoo-” you start. 

“Be it America, or anywhere else in the world… Any timeline… I will find you and I won’t let you slip through my fingers- never again.” He makes his intentions clear with a scrape of his uncannily sharp teeth across your skin. “And trust me, I still have some… frustrations- about you hiding your feelings from me for all these years.” He says, snapping your garter, making you yelp.Ah, the consequences of your actions, so you see. Well, perhaps you don’t mind too much if this is the outcome.

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (a dreamling drabble)

(a 1989 comics AU where Dream does not go meet Hob despite being free)

Dream stares at the sleeping form of Hob Gadling and feels guilty.

He hadn’t gone to their centennial meeting. Despite having escaped Burgess’ cage and having recovered his tools, Dream has not met Hob at their appointed date at the White Horse.

He knows Hob waited for him. Waited until the day had gone and turned to night, after the clock had struck midnight and announced their date over. Dream knows this because he had stood, watching, for as long as the man waited inside the White Horse Inn.

He is not proud of this.

If he examines his reasons for not entering the Inn, keeping watch from the other side of the street instead, he draws a blank. 

Dream does not know why he did not go inside, he knows he froze at the sight of the closed door, the cramped space indoors he could see through the glass (glass, why so much glass everywhere). He had stepped back and waited for his unease to lift, and when that did not happen he had waited for Hob to leave so Dream might meet him outside, but the man did not leave the Inn until the owner practically threw him out on the street, long after midnight. Dream had stepped forward then, only to watch his old acquaintance break down against the building wall and sob. 

Why did Dream not go to him then? Why did he step back into the shadows and watch Hob drag himself up to his feet with a whimper and stumble down the street, hand trailing the wall for support. The only answer Dream can come up with is a supremely uncomfortable one.

He is a coward.

When it comes to relationships, Dream’s track record is disastrous, a fact that he is very aware of. He left Hob in 1889 with cutting words and no promise to return. Hob should by rights be angry at Dream, should be less trusting that he would show. But still the man waited for him at their next appointment, as if he had known Dream’s words to be products of his rage and not vows he would keep. Even if he doesn’t know it, Hob was right to expect Dream to not simply terminate their arrangement. Because here Dream stands, at the foot of Hob’s bed, watching the man sleep, too scared of a smug ‘I-knew-you’d-see-sense’ to dare approach him while awake.

Hob had slowly made his way home, unaware of Dream following him, drawn to him like there was a string tying them to each other. By then Dream felt like the point where he could make himself known had passed, but he hadn’t been able to leave. He kept trailing after Hob, into his small two-room apartment; had watched him shed only his shoes and then stood in the shadows of his curtains while Hob took out a small leather-bound book and pen and started to write. Dream had felt like a ghost, a nightmare watcher haunting his victim. He had carefully reigned in any stray trickles of his power to not make himself known or Hob uncomfortable in his invisible presence. After a few minutes Hob had stopped writing and sighed. Then he wiped his hands over his face tiredly and went to bed, not bothering to get out of his clothes.

Dream stands beside the table with the book now. The pages are still open. His eyes seek out the words unbidden, unable to resist the pull of the written word. He knows he is breaking a lot of taboos this evening. He is invading his friend’s privacy most thoroughly. The knowledge does not stop him from reading what Hob has written.

June 7th 8th, 1989

He didn’t come. The bastard really didn’t come. I can’t believe it. I was so sure he would show. That he was just angry, prideful and stubborn as he is, but surely a hundred years would be long enough to calm down?

Apparently they weren’t. I sat there, at our table at the White Horse, drinking one whiskey after the other, waiting like an idiot until they threw me out, and he didn’t show.

Do you even remember me? Or did you cut me from your memory, like you promised to cut all our ties, the night you left me standing in the rain? Have I left any impact at all on your immortal life that is probably much longer than my own? Surely it must be obvious to you that you have impacted my life more than anyone else. You are the only one who knows me, who knows Hob Gadling, the rough, foolish mercenary who bragged about never dying. Who raised himself from the dirt of the poor just to fall back down again, deeper than ever before. Rise and fall, and rise again only to be put in my place by you again - and rightfully so. 

In 1889 I had finally managed to find some middle ground, feeling safe enough to finally be honest with you - at least partially. And it all blew up in my face.

I should have known, really. Your relaxed smiles for the last centuries were too good to be true. I shouldn’t have trusted my gut and spilled some of the beans. But it had been lonely the last few decades and I thought we had reached an understanding. I thought I knew you, if not as well as you have to know me by now, but enough to take that leap of faith.

I leapt. And you let me fall I fell again. I should be used to it by now, one might think. But when it’s you nothing is simple and the stakes are so much higher.Do you know what you mean to me? Your name is written on a wall inside my heart and I don’t think that any amount of alcohol can wash it away. And I don’t even know it. I don’t know your name but it’s in there, and it’s not coming off. I know. I tried. Although it hurts that you stood me up, I believe that you’ll come back to meet me one day. I will believe in you, no matter what. I have to, for there is no other constant in my life but you. I have to hope.

‘You’re the only one who really knew me at all, and you coming back to me is against all odds, but it’s a chance I’ve got to take’, like Phil says.

Dream does not know who Phil is, but a quick glance at the general human subconscious reveals the quoted words as part of a song by an artist Hob seems to be referring to. Dream perceives the song’s lyrics and its general feeling and swallows heavily. It appears to be an apt choice for Hob’s current emotional state. He reads the last few words while the notes of the song linger in his mind.

So I’ll be here when you’re ready. I hope you know how to find me when they inevitably tear the old place down, but I guess you do. I hope so. I really hope so. I just want to know that you’re okay. I need to know that I’m not alone. There are others like me, I’ve met some. But it’s not the same. No one is like you. No one is as

Please come back

The words cut off abruptly, Hob having clearly been too tired to write more. Dream’s newly reclaimed powers put everything in much sharper relief. Shutting off the flow of emotions from the subconscious comes both easier and harder somehow. Pulling himself back into this singular humanoid shape at Hob’s bedside takes a particular effort he had forgotten since he furnished his ruby. It is not hard, but a task he has to accustom himself to again. Dream pauses for several minutes, quite literally collecting himself, unsure of his next actions.

He looks at Hob again. His face is slack in his sleep, relaxed and calm. Dream only glances at Hob’s dreams to ascertain if they are calm or troubled but finds nothing too upsetting. He does not want to intrude further than he already has so he keeps himself from viewing his friend’s dreams. 

His friend. Friend. The word that had sent Dream running in affront a century ago. Despite himself, struck by a sudden urge to talk to Hob, Dream inhales sharply and silently sits down on the chair in front of the open notebook. He carefully picks up the pen and sets it to the empty paper below Hob’s own words.

My friend.

I apologise for missing our meeting 

I owe you more than one apology. You were correct in your assessment the last time we met. I was am lonely. With one word you dismantled my defences and left me too vulnerable to bear at the time. I was rude to you, and I regretted my words as soon as I had left you. However, as you well know, I am a prideful, stubborn being. Strange, to be able to admit it so easily now. I’ve always known it, and you’re not the first to call me out on it, but of course I would never have allowed anyone who talked to me like that to speak to me again. So I told you I’d leave you, not able to accept that you were, ARE, my friend.

And that I need you, like you need me

I have not forgotten you, Hob Gadling. I do not forget anyone. You are cradled in the vastness of my being like every other mind, your story preserved for all time. This, of course, you cannot know, as I have never introduced myself to you. Again, something I’d like to apologise for. I will, however, endeavour to give you my name in person, and soon.

I would have done so today yesterday, but. For some reason I cannot name I felt unable to approach you or enter our usual meeting place. I know you waited and I am deeply sorry for troubling you.

You have indeed made an impact on my life. Maybe not in the same way I did on yours, but nonetheless our meetings have become something I look forward to. You surely wonder why I never told you who I am. I was not able to admit it a hundred years ago, but to meet you, who knows nothing of my role and my duties, is freeing in a way nothing else is in my existence. You look upon me as your friend, and nothing else. You cannot imagine how much I enjoy the time spent in your presence, listening to your accounts of the last century.

I could not

I was unable to experience much of human history over the last century. This has left me with a certain uneasiness in regards to humanity. I would humbly ask for your patience, once again. As I am trying to gather the courage find the time to gather the courage to meet you in person. Perhaps this book can provide a form of communication, for the time being.

Sincerely, your old friend

Dream drops the pen like it’s burning his fingers and rises swiftly, stepping back from the table and notebook before he can rip out the page he has written in a fit of panic. He has revealed far more than he intended to but it is only fair to leave Hob these words, after what he has put him through.

Dream allows himself one last look at Hob, still sleeping peacefully, before returning back to the Dreaming. There is much to think about. His reluctance to interact with humanity cannot stand if he is to perform his function. Walking with Death has helped him put things in perspective again but he still fears. What? What does he have to fear? He has no need for humans liking him. As he examines his feelings and his earlier short interactions with humans on his way to the White Horse, Dream realises that he does not care about all humans. He only cares about how Hob perceives him. 

Perhaps knowing that he had to introduce himself this time, clearly owing it to his friend, Dream had been afraid of losing Hob’s easy camaraderie. Surely exposing himself as Endless will have a pruning effect on Hob’s relaxed and friendly demeanour. Dream does not want that. But perhaps… No. He will wait for Hob’s reply in his notebook, if it comes. Should he choose to answer Dream, he will then decide how to proceed further. Surely any speculation right now is fruitless.

Trying to put the matter out of his mind for now, Dream goes to resume his work. He is aware enough to know that fear of Hob’s reaction was not the only reason he didn’t enter the White Horse. He needs to work through some things. Perhaps some new nightmares made of planes of suffocating glass will help him put some things behind him.

[Spoiler: of course they won’t, oh honey 🥺]

Part 2

[jolapeno]

voicemails

frankie morales x f!reader

do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.

JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.

Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.

It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.

Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.

There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.

Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.

It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.

The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.

He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:

“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“

Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.

“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”

But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.

“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“

He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.

Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.

It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.

A thing he thinks each time.

Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.

And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.

But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.

an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.