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gojorgeous · 1 year ago

Text

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!”

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said.

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind.

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers.

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.”

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path.

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back.

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket.

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.”

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?”

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t.

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s.

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?”

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you.

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying.

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong.

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches.

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment.

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you.

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike.

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now.

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him.

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside.

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it.

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet.

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face.

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease.

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo.

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night.

“Yeah. Long day at work.”

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?”

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you.

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there.

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance.

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.”

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?”

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.”

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life.

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight.

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around.

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder.

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines.

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs.

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.”

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool.

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone.

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride.

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention.

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish?

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman.

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself.

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive.

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?”

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.”

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours.

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps.

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says.

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet.

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.”

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?”

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?”

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like.

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then…

“So, what’s your technique”

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual.

“Bet I could find out.”

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.”

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…”

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.”

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks.

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job…

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.”

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?”

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth.

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing.

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?”

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal.

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.”

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to.

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit.

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now.

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone.

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid.

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines.

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle.

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans.

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever.

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles.

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to.

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs.

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now.

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please…

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land.

Fuck.

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework.

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly.

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight.

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it.

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better.

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?”

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over.

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.”

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls.

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.”

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see.

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs.

Your lips part. “You knew?”

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?”

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him.

But you have one thing on him.

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.”

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.”

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.”

You freeze. He notices.

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?”

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation.

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.”

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo.

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?”

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced.

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display.

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin.

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes.

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?”

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree.

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…”

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides.

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone.

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again.

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.”

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.”

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased.

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.”

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.”

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue.

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right.

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you.

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault.

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes.

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away.

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?”

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone.

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick.

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole.

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out.

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.”

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages.

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.”

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut.

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.”

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.”

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you.

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth.

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him.

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.”

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same.

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant.

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs.

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind.

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be.

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you.

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death.

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest.

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?”

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.”

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?”

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe.

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.”

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?”

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been.

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free.

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position.

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind.

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you.

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.”

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?”

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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blvdheart · 7 months ago

Text

CRUSHING AND GREEDY

leon kennedy x fem puppy hybrid!reader

you’ve started feeling different about your owner, leon, as of late. cuddling and following him around all the time just isn’t enough, especially not with the way the spot between your thighs has been aching for him. leon isn’t immune to your antics, he’s weak for his sweet girl

cw: fem!reader, 5.2k wc, daddy kink, baths, small excerpt of jealousy on readers side, mentions of PMS symptoms (sore chest), tit massage, masturbation, unprotected p in v, blowjob, doggystyle, missionary, ass & clit spanking, manhandling, size difference, dumbification + praise, finger sucking, breeding

note: um…hi. bye. this is actually just pure filth LMAO i’m not joking don’t judge the pacing okay. not proof read i can’t read this again ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

for a hybrid who hit the jackpot by having the sweetest owner, you weren’t satisfied.

if someone searched for an example of the word ‘insatiable,’ you’d probably be on there. a pretty picture of you posing with your ears perked up and a pearly smile on your face.

leon had been through so many rough patches in his life, but he was mentally getting as better as he could get: he had turned away from depending on bitter tasting-alcohol, became a bit more comfortable admitting that he needed support, and didn’t have that sunken look in his eyes anymore.

anyway. point is, after his progress, he decided to get you. what could go wrong with a cute puppy hybrid who he wanted to dote on and have as a sweet companion? maybe one to curl up with and watch his favorite movies, someone to have so he wouldn’t come home to an empty house.

everything was fine the first month. you were clingy and affectionate, curling up by his side every night and following him around the house like a shadow with an eagerly wagging tail. how cute, he always thought. when he sat to watch his movies, you always either willingly sat on the floor and clung to one of his legs or sat on his lap to hug him, not even watching the movie yourself. all you really needed was for him to pat your head and kiss your forehead.

but you had been more…well, needy, as of late. clambering all over him 24/7 and chasing his lips. he’d always laugh breathlessly before gently pushing you away whenever he needed to take a breath, you’d pout at him all the while.

he didn’t get hard often prior to this happening, mostly because his libido was pretty low at this point. the most he would get was some morning wood or some random ones popping up time to time. healthy. he never had his face buried in some dirty videos now that he was older and had better things to do. give the guy a break, google and twitter wasn’t his forte.

but god almighty. you had his hormones rushing as if he was young and opening up a porn magazine for the first time. it felt taboo back then up until he strayed from religion. this time, it felt wrong because he was genuinely unsure if you knew how provocative you were being.

the worst thing about it is that you so shamelessly called him daddy. it was really cute at first! like yes, he’s taking care of you so it only made sense right? even if technically you were too old to be addressing him that way, he brushed it off, the nickname made him feel happy.

but the name had been paired with more…lewd acts of yours. his head started linking the term coming from your puckered lips with the heat in his stomach.

“y’smell so good, daddy!” you’d say as you buried your face against his chest and sniffed at him, squirming all over his lap. for fuck’s sake, his cock came to life.

“you’re so strong, daddy. but i feel like i never see you work out, how’d you get this much muscle?” you’d ask as you massaged his biceps with a starry-eyed look. then you’d chomp down on one like the bad girl you were. geez. it got him feeling all dirty.

you on the other hand, thought you were doing the right thing. you wanted him to like you beyond him pampering you. you couldn’t help it, leon was so nice and kind and handsome and doting and funny (not really) and attentive and strong. okay, way too many ‘ands,’ let’s stop there.

you didn’t see him as a mere caretaker anymore, you wanted him as your mate! he was the perfect candidate — strong, protective, caring, intelligent, and you could just sense that he’d get you knocked up first try.

he smelled so good all the time too, it made your clit throb every time you caught the scent. the concoction of his faint aftershave, strong cologne, and his natural scent was like some kind of aphrodisiac that reached your cunt faster than viagra could.

you had leon thinking with his dick more than his brain these past weeks. and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

every night, the minute he heard your steady breathing and the adorable sleepy noises you made, his hand was already slipping underneath the sheets to palm his cock, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. then his hand would tug down his boxers, sucking in a breath as he wrapped his hand around himself, gently bucking his hips up against it.

his thoughts were vivid, stimulating all his senses at once. smelling your natural scent mixed with the shampoo and soap he bathed you with. hearing you whine and call him daddy. feeling your hands paw at all parts of him and claw at his skin, the softness of your ass, tits, and thighs as he fondled you. tasting the flavored chapstick you put on your pouty lips every day, the salt on your skin, the sweetness of your cunt and what it wept. seeing your eyes roll back and drool dribble down your chin because you couldn’t even think enough to swallow. what a stupid pup. his pup.

and there were way too many memories fueling his fantasies.

park incident:

leon was a good owner, he took you new places to walk whenever he had the time. today was no different, he chose a beautiful park with a lake, just walking you around the vastness of it.

an hour passed, you were content. keyword, were. there was a woman coming over, a nice smile on her face and her eyes set on leon.

oh. hell no.

you were visibly mad and clung onto leon’s arm with an iron grip, trying to get him to walk you away from the direction of woman. but your attempt was like a feather, completely ineffective. your ears flattened against the top of you head.

don’t talk to him. don’t talk to him. don’t talk to him.

but the lady did, fluttering her lashes at your owner and asking him what breed you were. as if she actually fucking cared, that was probably just a conversation starter to get his number.

before you knew it, you were growling at her.

leon tugged at your collar, a nonverbal gesture as if to say: ‘stop that.’

“i’m so sorry, she’s usually the sweetest little angel.” leon told the lady, a sheepish smile on his face as he brought his free hand up to stroke your head, hoping to calm you down. “say sorry, girl.”

your nose scrunched up at his unwanted instructions and glared at him incredulously, though you looked more like a kicked puppy than anything else. sorry. sorry? why should you have to apologize? she should be getting on her damn knees and apologizing for even breathing near leon. what a pain.

“but daddy!” you bit back a complaint, sulking and rolling your eyes. “‘m…sorry.”

“that’s my girl, you’re just in a bad mood, hm?” he encouraged you to give some more meat to your vague apology.

you nodded. “mhm, i’m just not feeling well today, ma’am.”

and oh boy. the drive back home was uncomfortable. leon would never yell at you, he was a softie for you. and he wasn’t particularly mad, just…feeling uneasy because you had never growled at a stranger unless it was someone who was trying to pet you without your permission.

it turned him on too, much to his embarrassment. driving with a hard-on was difficult.

laundry incident

leon was a little on edge on his drive back home, mostly because he had told you he would’ve been home two fucking hours ago. yet here he was, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel of his car, waiting for the light to turn green.

and of course you were anxious! your eyes had been trained on the clock, just waiting to hear the familiar sound of him pulling into the driveway and opening the garage. but it hadn’t happened. one minute felt like thirty, you really had no sense of time.

with tears in your eyes, you went upstairs, sniffing the air a bit to pinpoint where his scent was the strongest. poor thing, you just needed some comfort. you eventually stumbled to his laundry hamper, turning it upside down to get all the clothes onto the floor and then tossing the bin elsewhere.

you made yourself comfortable on top of the pile, clinging onto one of the jackets that was there and bunching it up against your face. it made you feel so much better, but along with that came some warmth that pooled in your lower abdomen, making you whine as you sniffed at his lingering scent. you felt light-headed, like his smell alone was giving you some kind of high and making your body all tingly. you had half the mind to stuff some of his clothes between your legs and rut against it like an animal. but you didn’t.

you kept nuzzling against it, so distracted and caught up that you didn’t even hear the series of sounds you had been waiting for — garage door, jangling keys, your owner’s familiar footsteps.

leon sighed when he wasn’t met with your usual bombardment of affection, and he let out a whistle, the same one he always used to call you over with. but he didn’t hear you scamper on over to him. he checked all the rooms downstairs before heading up, and yeah, he saw you there on his bedroom floor, looking all pitiful while cuddling against the mess of a pile you had made

“oh, sweetheart.” he murmured tenderly, making his way over and kneeling down, cautiously stroking your head. your tail wagged in response, your ears perking as you sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, whining against him.

“sorry for not giving you a heads up, sweet girl. did you miss me?”

“mhm, i missed you so much. it felt like you were gone for a whole month.”

you were so dramatic, all he could do was bite back a chuckle, he didn’t want to make your worries seem like a laughing matter.

“i know, i know.” he kissed the top of your hand, his hands sliding down to your hips to keep you against him, wanting to console you for a while.

his clothes didn’t compare to actually having his heavenly presence, you pressed your face against his neck, your nose brushing against his pulse point as you breathed him in over and over, cute little whines and grunts escaping you, so happy to have him back. you needed to make sure he was okay! to make sure he didn’t smell like someone else.

“easy, girl, easy.”

he was losing it, having a pretty pup like you squirming against him and making those sweet noises wasn’t easy. sure, you had always been whiny when he came home late, but you had never been like this.

it was hard to tell whether his absence was giving you unhealthy attachment issues or if there was another root to the problem. leon wasn’t exactly the best at initiating such discussions.

bath incident

you were a lot of work. leon should’ve just put you in the bath and left you to your own devices the very first time. but no, he didn’t. what if you got soap in your pretty eyes or somehow drowned? unlikely, but with a curious puppy hybrid, anything was possible.

ever since then, you always need him to bathe you. but you were in no way decent about it.

he was catching up on some emails sent to him on his laptop when he heard a soft pair of knocks on the door. you, of course. “come in, baby.”

he wasn’t expecting for you to be stripped down though, your nipples hardened presumably from chilly gust of his AC, and a patch of hair down below because he was always too scared to shave you down there, what if he accidentally cut you? he resorted to just trimming it. it was cute though.

“christ.” he hurried up and shut his blinds, were you crazy? it was night time, the room was illuminated, anyone could’ve seen you. you were going to give him grey hairs, yeah he was already heading that way but you were speeding the process up!

he babied you though, letting you lead him to the bathroom by tugging on his sleeve. he listened to you chatter about your day and about a new collar you wanted while he filled the tub and made sure the water temperature was nice.

it was hard not to take peeks at you as you sunk into the water once it was ready. he was a man. and you were pretty, a bit too much.

like always, he used a washcloth to clean you up — using his free hand to hold you steady. your tail always splashed water and made a mess on the tiled floor.

“you’re splashing all the water.” leon noted, leaning down a bit to kiss the crown of your head. he truly had no backbone when it came to you.

“i can’t help it! my tail moves on it’s own.”

“maybe this is a sign for you to start taking showers instead, hm? it’s less of a mess, quicker, and i’m sure you wouldn’t even need my help.”

“um…no.”

“no?”

“i always need you, daddy! it wouldn’t be fun getting cleaned up with you.”

and to make matters worse, even after he finished cleaning you up, you were still nagging at him, he sat on the edge of his bed and waited as you got into your nightgown.

“i feel sore.” you whined, going over to stand in front of him, your tail tucked between your legs.

“sore? but we didn’t even go on a walk today.” he held onto one of your hands, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “want me to massage your legs?”

“mm-mm.” you shook your head and cupped your own breasts, squeezing them. “i’m sore here, don’t know why. help me?”

your chest always ached for a few days every month. you hadn’t really attributed it to the fact it always hurt just before your period, though.

leon bit his lower lip. he really shouldn’t indulge you. his fingers were twitching a bit, his mind already imagining the plushness of your mounds..

“such a spoiled princess….sure, c’mere.” he scooted back a bit, spreading his legs to make space for you to sit on the matress.

slowly running his hands up your torso as you sat down with your back facing him, he eventually reached your tits, kneading at the soft flesh. like pillows, he noted. they’d be nice to nip at and use as a stress reliever. if only. god, he felt like those perverted people who bought PC mouses with character’s tits on them.

“that feel okay?” his question was a murmur against your ear. you nodded and squirmed back against him, resting your head against his shoulder and going limp. “mhm, keep going.”

maybe you didn’t notice the way there was a bulge pressing against your backside, or the way leon’s hands squeezed you a bit harder whenever a soft mewl escaped your lips.

whether it was arousal or actual relief from your soreness, he didn’t know. but your nipples were hard again, his room wasn’t cold anymore so clearly it was because they were being stimulated by his fingers.

maybe if leon was also a hybrid with an exceptional sense of smell, he’d smell the honey your cunt sobbed for him. your panties felt all sticky and uncomfortable, your clit throbbing like it had a heart of its own.

he couldn’t help himself, he gave your nipples a pinch, hearing you squeal after and arch your back. “daddy!”

“…sorry, princess.”

yeah, he jacked off that night.

————

the point is, there was only so much leon could take before he fucked you stupid. but maybe that’s what you wanted him to do, considering you were getting all dolled up with nowhere to go, just stuck in the house with him. you didn’t want it any other way.

descending from the stairs, you went on over to the living room, taking your favorite seat between his knees, your legs folded on the fuzzy rug below that you had begged him to buy when he took you to the furniture store. said it was soft enough for you to sit on the floor with it. he told you that you could just sit with him on the couch or his lap, but you liked sitting by his feet. so, he got it specifically for you. oh, how spoiled you were.

his taste in decor had always been simple, but now his place was filled with all the things you wanted — plushies, frilly couch pillows, cute figurines of characters you didn’t even fucking know. what a poser.

leon’s thighs were massive, the sight of them all spread had you swallowing some of the saliva that had immediately welled up in your mouth. you had seen his dick several times, you always wanted to stroke it and suck it, how could you not? you were sure it would fit perfectly in your mouth.

your skirt was so fucking short and frilly that it was riding up your ass because of the way you were positioned, had leon been behind you, he would’ve gotten a perfect shot of your lacy panties (and the way they were already soaked.)

looking down at you, he failed at suppressing the burst of heat that shot down to his stomach from how tempting you were, gazing up at him with those pretty eyes that seemed to be asking for something, but he was unsure of what.

his hand settled on top of your head, stroking the area between where your cute ears were all perked up. “look at you, all dolled up and pretty. need something, sweetheart?”

your tail was already wagging at full speed when he pet you. you nodded eagerly. “want your attention, daddy.”

the word fell from your lips in such an emphasized way. you would sound so lewd squealing that out as he buried his cock inside you over and over. maybe he should get help.

“you’re so needy.” with a click of tongue, he, gave one of your ears a gentle flick. “i always give you all my attention. when’s the last time you’ve left me alone for more than five minutes? last time i checked, i spoil you rotten.”

you frowned at that but he did have a point. still! you needed more, you were so greedy. maybe if he was good at dishing out some discipline, you’d be better. anyone looking into the situation would’ve wondered why leon never put you over his knee, he could easily manhandle you with the strength he had built through the last two decades.

“don’t pout, when have i ever neglected your needs?” he asked. leon grinned and patted his lap. “come here..”

his hands snaked down to hold onto your hips as you followed his instructions eagerly.

“this better?”

“yup! you know i like being close to you…what are you watching on TV?”

“i was just browsing some channels, can’t find any that are playing a good movie though…i might just have to get my dvd box back out and just rewatch a movie. cinema is dead these days, it was better back then.”

“old man.” you snickered, laughing at his complaint.

“you wound me.” he was being dramatic. “trying to break my heart, princess?”

with a giggle, you shake your head before burying it against the crook of his neck. “no, i love you.”

there was tension in the air, he was sure today would be his breaking point.

he tried to get his mind off the way your warm breath was fanning against his skin, and the way you were sniffing at him.

what leon couldn’t ignore though, was the very discreet and quiet squelching he heard whenever you shifted your hips, paired with the dampness that was seeping through the fabric of his pants from where you sat atop him. you were wet. fuck. and not just a little wet. no, you were dripping. he didn’t even know women could be this soaked without actually being touched.

“stay still. you’re so restless.” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to keep you in place. you were always squirmy, moving around like you had just downed two energy drinks. he sounded breathless, your ears perked up.

your cheeks huffed out, your clit no longer getting any stimulation, only some pressure at being pressed snugly against some hard part of his pants. you clenched a bit to try to get some more, even a scrap.

“nooo, but it felt so good.” you whined, your tone of voice tugging at his heartstrings. “more, please?”

he shouldn’t. he really, really, really shouldn’t. but he did, you pushed his limits way too much these the past weeks. he was weak, and his sweet (bratty) puppy was seeking some pleasure. it would be sad to just leave you like this, wouldn’t it? you were ready for him, he was sure foreplay wasn’t even needed for his dick to painlessly stretch you out.

“you’re such a brat, y’know that? always all over me like i’m immune to your charms. was this your plan?”

of course you nodded with a coy smile before nipping at his neck.

taking a sharp inhale, his hips bucked up, making your toes curl at the abruptness of the feeling. it felt more exhilarating when leon was the one directly giving you that pleasure, more so than when you rut against some pillow. or maybe it was because you could hear his grunts and hitched breaths, clearly this felt good for him too. you were giving your owner pleasure, this was mutually beneficial!

you were using his lap as if it were some kind of trampoline for your plush ass, dry humping him like the puppy hybrid you were, using him for your hearts (clits) desire..

pulling your face away from his neck, you cupped his face and kissed him sloppily, too turned on to do it properly. leon’s eyes shut, returning the passion with fevor. when you leaned away, a thin string of shared saliva snapped.

“daddy, i wanna touch you and suck you.” your hand snaked down to rub over his jeans, it was obvious what you wanted. you got back down onto the floor, looking up at him expectantly.

“fuck…you’re impatient.” he leaned down and gave you one final kiss before leaning back, fumbling with his belt and zipper, pushing his hips up a bit to get his pants down to his knees.

you looked all starry-eyed, mouth agape at the sight of his dick. it had a curve to it, you licked your lips. you were on him in an instant, sucking on one of his balls, letting it out with a soft ‘pop’ and doing the same to his other one. they felt heavy, that’s for sure. maybe his seed would be strong enough to get you all swollen and round first try, fuck, you wanted it.

“you’re so hot…” he watched you with lidded eyes, his stomach tensing at the sensitivity. listen, he hadn’t felt a tongue on him in years, give him a break.

he gave your fluffy ears a scratch, holding his breath when you licked a strip up his shaft and finally wrapped your pretty lips around his dick. all his nerves felt fuzzy, the thoughts being knocked out of his head.

the background TV sound faded out, replaced with the sound of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

leon hissed when he felt your teeth brushing against the sensitive skin of his cock, and his fingers instinctively tugged on your hair to pull you back.

“careful with your teeth, princess.” you were new at this, it was to be expected.

“‘m sorry.” you tell him, your ears pinning back a bit from the thought of hurting him, like it was some kind of sin. you got right back to sucking him dry, mindful of your teeth, going down until the tip of your nose felt his hair.

“juuust like that.”

your tail flicked to and fro in response to his praise, doing the same thing over and over until you had to pull back for air, taking deep breaths, your brows furrowed.

his grip on the base of his cock was loose, and he gently slapped it against the side of your face. pat, pat, pat. geez. what a perv he must be, because he felt lightheaded from how hot the sight was. you were looking up at him through your lashes, just taking anything he did without any questions.

and it’s because you liked it. there was something exciting about knowing you were seeing a vulnerable side to him. a part of him that random woman you growled at when he took you to the park wouldn’t see.

“what do you need?” he had to ask, you were staring at him so devotedly, your eyes lit up as you looked at him.

“you.”

leon could’ve just fucked you in the living room. but he was sweeter than that, he wouldn’t just push you onto the floor or couch…maybe in the future if you were being particularly bad. but this was your first time, and he was somewhat of a gentleman.

standing up, he slung you over his shoulder with ease, taking you to the bedroom and placing you onto the soft sheets of the mattress.

he fumbled with his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head, but it did nothing to make his burning body cool off. you followed suit, stripping and getting into position.

leon’s eyes glazed over when he saw you: face down, ass up, back arched, already squirming a bit. he hadn’t even given you any instructions, you had just gotten into doggystyle position as if it was your nature. well…it kind of was.

getting on the bed and kneeling behind you, his weight sunk the mattress down a bit as he settled between your spread legs. his palm splayed over your ass, fondling it a bit before he gave one side a soft smack.

you yelped at that, your body jolting a bit.

“so dramatic,” he snorted, grinning at your reaction and giving you another pat on the other side. “i was being gentle.”

he stroked himself a couple times before pushing the head of his cock inside you.

he was about to ask if you were in pain so he could take it slow, but you were already throwing your ass back onto him and taking him whole. “feels so good…”

he watched your ass bounce and meet his hips before he leaned down so he could put one of his hands between your shoulder blades, keeping you still while he shoved his dick in and out of you.

his balls kissed your clit with force every time his hips pressed against yours, making you squeal. your calves kicked a little involuntarily, so cute.

the noises were obscene, like something only a high quality microphone could properly pick up.

you were so wet, his sheets would be a mess later, how dirty. vocal seemed to be your middle name, with the way you were sobbing out for him without a care in the damn world. as if you were in some studio with sound-proof walls, which you absolutely weren’t.

“daddy, daddy, daddy!” your voice was getting all high pitched.

“yeah, keep crying for me.” his hand tangled into your hair, tugging it so your noises were no longer all muffled from the way your face had been pressed against the pillow.

“so pretty…you were made for this, weren’t you? made to take my cock? bet i could slide it in easily whenever and you’d drop whatever you were doing.”

where the hell was this dirty talk coming from? leon was sure he’d feel embarrassed after this was all over but right now his mind could only think of how your walls swallowed him.

your answer was a long series of whines, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as his cock pressed in deeper, fitting so snugly inside you and hitting that spot that indirectly stimulated your clit.

he gave your ass a slap with his other hand. “good girls answer when they’re asked a question. use your words.”

“yes!” your voice sounded so broken and hoarse. “i want it, daddy. w-whenever…whenever you want…’m yours, y’know that.”

“atta girl, so eager to please your owner.” his voice was smoother now, he guided you down until you were laying flat on your stomach. he pressed his chest against your sweaty back, enveloping you whole.

you were in heaven, the room filled to the brink with leon’s natural scent, it made your head spin. he pressed some kisses to the side of your head, lazily thrusting into you as he took some time to smother you with some sweet affection.

“such a good puppy. you don’t even have a single thought inside that pretty head of yours, hm? fucked you stupid? thought your breed was supposed to be smart.”

pitiful mewls emitted from your throat, your hands holding onto the pillows like your life depended on it. there was so much going on, your brain was turning to mush.

he held onto your jaw, pushing his middle and ring finger into your opened mouth, they got lubricated immediately, your lips closing around them as you started sucking eagerly like you had done for his cock.

he let you use him like a lollipop for a while until he pulled his fingers out your mouth.

“bet you just wanna be bred, huh sweet girl? wanna get knocked up and have my babies?”

those questions had you sobbing, “yes, yes, yes! want you to fill me up!”

he brought that same hand down underneath your hips, his hand trapped between the matress and your cunt, and rubbed tight circles on your sensitive clit. you trembled, your eyes tearing up from how earth-shattering it felt. you instinctively rut down, being both split open and having your bud being toyed with.

“daddy…daddy, don’t stop.” god, you were drooling all over his pillow.

“yeah, you gonna cum soon?” the answer better be yes because there was no way he could hold back for much longer. his time was running out, he was losing it.

“mhm, gonna cum.”

he had to see your pretty face, he flipped you onto your back, wasting no time on spreading your thighs and pistoning back into you, his thumb rubbing at your clit. your collar jingled with each thrust, your toes curling and your stomach clenching.

your head tilted back, his free hand wrapped around your throat, applying very light pressure there and playing with the adornment on it. you looked like a goddamn mess, hair all frizzy, lips wet and swollen, tits bouncing, your ears pinned back, eyes glossy and shedding some tears.

he gave your clit a few spanks, each one making you squeal loudly, your eyes rolling back.

you held onto his forearm for support as your body trembled in waves, your cunt squeezing his dick so tightly that he couldn’t move in and out of you as fast. leon groaned, his balls feeling tight before he finished. he hadn’t climaxed this much in years, his hips stuttered against yours every time he emptied another string of cum inside you.

he slumped against you, the room filled with quiet panting and your whimpers. your legs wrapped around his torso, not wanting him to move.

“love you…”

“i love you too, princess.”

“can we go again?”

“…you’re so fucking greedy.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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slimyalienfreak · 2 months ago

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Heya! I was wondering if you could make a lil fanfic of shadow the hedgehog and mobian!reader

where the reader has a fascination with death and everything morbid due to seeing and being in lots of tragedies and shadow is mostly unaware of this but finally starts noticing the reader’s obsessive like fascination with death and wants to confront them about it

Shadow With A Mobian!Reader Who Has A Fascination With Death

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Sorry it took kinda long to do this. Honestly kind of lost motivation to write stuff lately but I think it’s coming back. I don’t know. Regardless, I hope you like it.

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️Mentions Of Death + Suicide (Not Actually Committing But Talks About Wanting To) + Spoilers For Shadow’s Backstory⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Shadow + Mention Of Maria

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by CoffeeBearSama on Twitter/X + Banner by salintvll (Edited by me) on Pinterest

———————————

- Honestly at first Shadow never noticed or asked about your obsession when it comes to death. He’s quite the loner so he doesn’t really indulge in anyone or their personal interests. That’s just what he’s like. Not that he’s completely dismissive of any of your interests, it's just his response to you telling him or him hearing about it is just ‘okay’. Maybe you could persuade him to join in but it may take a while but he does partake in it.

- Though eventually he does notice your interest in death. He might have heard it from someone else, maybe from you or he just so happened to discover it himself. At first admittedly he was a bit put off by it not outright it’s just he’s never really seen someone even remotely interested in death unless they’re willingly want to experience it. And to be honest even before he discovers how obsessed you were with it he’s still a little concerned that you want to end yourself so he decides to keep a close eye on you in case you actually do want to end yourself.

- However, his worry does become way worse when he slowly discovers how obsessed you actually were with it. He started to notice how you talked about it. The fact you were talking about it so casually, talking in depth about it makes him more concerned than when he discovered it. In his own way he’s genuinely worried about you. I feel like this kind of evolved from what happened to Maria that he feels compelled to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else especially if he’s somewhat close with you.

- When he does confront you about it you may have to spend most of your time convincing him that you're okay. Honestly with the way you're talking about it he’s thinking you genuinely want to end yourself and he doesn’t want that. To him you’ve still got a lot to live for and you shouldn’t cut it short. It probably took a while for him to be convinced that you were alright. You’d probably have to explain how you gained interest in it, more specifically the shit you had to go through which made you like this.

- When you do tell him about the horrible tragedies that’s when it hits him about your obsessive fascination with death. Now he understands why you're like this. He does feel bad for you for experiencing the things you did and thinks that it must be a coping mechanism for you in a way. Even with you convincing him that it's genuinely an interest nothing more he’d still be concerned for you and tell you that if you ever need to talk he’d be there for you and listen to what you need to say.

- I do kind of feel like Shadow would be kind of interested in a way. Not like how you are, I have a feeling it’s mostly for confirmation or reassurance. It’s not that big of a surprise that he’s greatly affected by the death of Maria, someone who he’s undoubtedly the closest with. Even if a lot of time has gone by since it deep down even if he doesn’t want to admit it he still wishes that she was still alive and misses her greatly. With your interest in death he may go up to you and ask about it. He really would like your opinion about it though at first not going in that great detail about it. Even though he claims he is not interested in it he kind of wants confirmation that she’d be alright and is proud of him.

- Oddly enough, having these talks with you is very comforting for him. He finds himself being more calm about his feelings when it comes to death himself. I think the fact that he doesn’t have to bottle them up like he usually does and is free to just let it out. As soon as he’s done ranting he can feel himself just relax as he thanks you for letting him talk about it. He likes having these moments with you and he really appreciates you listening to him and the other way round.

———————————

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic #sonic x reader #sth #sth x reader #sonic series #sonic series x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow #shadow x reader #maria robotnik #x reader #request

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swee7dream · 4 months ago

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hiii i saw that request are open for jae ( I CANNOT COPE WITH THE NEWS) so i was thinking if you could write about a fluff kind or drabble?!?! of maybe yn helping jae to cut his hair before enlisting but he has so much hair and like WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO LEAVE YOUR FLUFFY BIG HEAD BF BALD but yea kinda like cute couple-y moment?

military wife duties jeong jaehyun x female!reader

genres established relationship , fluff , angst if u squint warnings female reader , mention of enlistment (◞‸◟；) author's note when nahyuck enlist i will genuinely crash out like i will need to be put under watch dpwm . tysm for the request ! i will miss valentine boy so bad , , tag list @aeriaeri @mystarsohee @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip

“How could you do this to me? To us? I… I thought you loved me, Jaehyun. Does all our time together mean nothing to you?”

“Baby…” He holds your wrists, the sensation barely felt. “It’s just hair.”

“It’s not just hair!” you whimper, lip quivering. “Hair holds memories, Jae. You don’t get it.”

“Believe me, I do. I’m not excited to get my hair buzzed either.”

Your tears, hysterical and warm, Jaehyun’s dimples come out at the sight without even thinking about it.

“Please don’t make me do this.” Your lip quivers.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He pouts, but you can tell it’s ingenuine. “But either you do it or Jungwoo does it. And you saw what he did to Taeyong.”

“Can’t I just cut my hand off instead?”

That makes him burst out in laughter.

“No, you can’t. I won’t allow it.” He brings your hand up to kiss the back of it.

“Can I go in your stead?”

“I mean, you can go… but I’d still have to go too.”

“Okay.” Your voice cracks. “I’ll sign up for the military right now. We can go together.”

“No.” He pecks your nose. “You have to stay right here in our cozy home and live your regular-schmegular life from before I left so that when I come back we can pick up right where we left off. Yeah?”

“I’m gonna miss you so much…” you drop the shaver on the bathroom floor and throw your arms around Jaehyun. “Please don’t die. You can’t die. If you die, I’ll kill you. I-”

Your paranoid ramble continues, your voice getting higher and higher until you sound like the loveliest mosquito Jaehyun’s ever heard.

“I won’t.” He pulls back to see your face. “I won’t die, okay? I’ll call you whenever I can, visit as often as possible, it’ll be like I never even left.”

“But you will! You will leave and I’ll be alone and you’ll be bald.” You sob at the last word. “You’ll be bald…”

“…is that what you’ve been focusing on?”

“You look so good with long hair. You’re the handsomest man in the world but when you have your hair long you’re the most handsome guy in all of the galaxies… I’m gonna lose my boyfriend and his hair. Life is so hard.”

“I know,” he pats your head, pressing his back against the toilet for enough space to let you sit on his lap. “Life is so hard, isn’t it?”

“So hard…” You nod, wiping your tears with the back of your hands. “’m sorry, Jae. You’re the one going to the military and here I am, making a new ocean with tears.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He hums. “Think of it as crying for the two of us. I don’t think it’s set in yet that I’ll be away for almost two years—” You let out a small whimper at the reminder. “—but I’m sure I’ll cry just as much when I’m on the way. More probably.”

“I hate this.” You pull him in, digging your nose into his shoulders to take in his smell and try to imprint the moment as a core memory in your mind.

“…I always could go to prison instead.”

You groan.

“No. No prison. Just… bald.” You sigh, looking up at him and digging your fingers through his cloud-like white hair. “Just bald, egg-headed Jaehyun.”

“Hey, calm it before I buzz your head too.” He flicks your forehead with his teeth dug into his lip. “Then it won’t just be me that’s ‘egg-headed’. Honestly. Where do you come up with these things?”

“Twitter.”

“I thought you said you deleted Twitter.”

“…I lied.”

“Of course you did.” Jaehyun takes his turn now to sigh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You love me.”

“I do.” His gaze softens and disarms you completely.

“I love you too.” You curl yourself back into him.

“I’ll marry you. You know that, right?” He looks at you.

“…yeah. I know.”

It’s not the first time the subject has been brought up. Jaehyun is a traditional romantic, you learned this within the first three months of your relationship.

Candlelit home dinner dates, weekly sent bouquets, random appreciation sonnet-like messages. Jaehyun has always been open about his desire for matching bands and golden anniversaries. And though you might not have always wished for the same thing, as the days passed holding Jaehyun’s hand in your own, how could you not start having similar dreams?

“You can’t die.”

“I told you, baby. I’m not going to die-”

“You have to come home safely so we can get married when you come back.”

Jaehyun’s eyes light up for only a second before he smashes his lips against yours, eager and clumsy at the thought of exchanging rings. It's your first time expressing your desire to walk down the aisle so openly, a day Jaehyun sometimes felt would only happen in his dreams. His mind buzzes with ideas for the venue, his suit, your dress.

“Cut my hair,” he says, and you feel him breathe on your face.

“It’s not gonna make you enlist any faster, you know?”

“I don’t care.” He smiles.

“…alright.” You pick up the shaver off the ground.

“Why do you have so much hair?” You frown, trying to see where his hair ends and his scalp begins. “Are you a man or a beast?”

“Depends on the location. For example, if it's the bedroom-”

Bzzzt!

“Oh...” You purse your lips. “Jae.”

“…what is it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What did you do…?” He whispers.

“You’re handsome enough to pull it off, I promise.”

“Oh my God.”

author's note hi ! another jaehyun request coming soon i'm just terrible at deciding on endings lololol . also, renjun is BACK injeolmis CHEER !!!!! would love to write more for renjun so lmk if that's something that interests u :>

p.s. i made a ko-fi . don't feel obligated to do anything with it, but if u ever win the lottery, like my writing, and don't know what to do with it , well . . . gestures vaguely .

#jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct 127 jaehyun #jeong yoonoh

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f1amour · 3 months ago

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Hiya!! Can I pretty please request a blurb that’s both angsty and a lil fluffy?

🍮 Lewis Hamilton - “I’m scared of losing you”

❝ i’m scared of losing you ❞ — lewis hamilton

pairing | lewis hamilton x reader

content warnings | angst, comfort, age gap mentioned (not specified)

★ navigation | main masterlist

─────────────────────────

“lewis is ready for this season to end” “lewis wants a fresh start and it’ll be with ferrari” “seems like hamilton just wants a a fresh start with life in general…does that include his girlfriend?”

the tweets did not stop rolling in and you couldn’t help but get lost in them. you couldn’t help but believe the words many were saying. maybe lewis was over this season, done with mercedes, and maybe he was over you too. he noticed the distance you had put up after the brazil gp. there was a two week break and you had spent it at home trying to relax but that was not possible with your constant checking in on twitter to see what people are saying about you.

you weren’t one to be on your phone so much at least when you had free time with lewis you guys tried your best to be in the moment. so when he came home from taking roscoe on a walk only to find you in the same spot you were in before he left almost two hours ago was concerning. it was concerning enough when you didn’t join them on the walk which you usually do, telling lewis you wanted to stay back and start on dinner. dinner was nowhere to be seen as you say on the barstool in the kitchen phone on in your hands with tears in your eyes.

lewis quickly lets roscoe off his leash and walks to you, “baby, what’s going?” his finger lifts your chin up to look him in the eyes but the tears in your eyes just make him frown. “please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” his soft voice fills your ears as you let him wrap his arms around you giving you a hug you didn’t know you needed until now.

your body shakes shading his as you let all your tears and frustrations out until you finally calm down his hands rub your back as you take deep breaths, “i…i’m scared, lewis. i’m scared of losing you,” you tell him what you’d been feeling for weeks now. lewis was not expecting those words to come out of your mouth. in fact, he felt that he was losing you due to this distance you’d been putting up.

his hands cup your face and gives you a smile that makes you believe your thoughts of losing him were just your imagination, “oh honey, now why would you think that? i can’t imagine my life without you. who told you something?” he asks, knowing damn well you’d never just start having these thoughts for no reason.

you look down at the countertop as you hand him your phone which had your twitter feed full of negativity, “lewis looks over this team and ready for a fresh start either ferrari he probably feels the same in his love life as well, lewis wants to focus on his 8th world championship not shopping for wedding rings for his young girlfriend who brings bad luck—,” lewis stops after the last tweet and looks over at you, your hands covering your face trying to avoid his gaze.

“look at me. plenty of people feel the opposite of these tweets. you got sucked into a thread that is all people who don’t actually support me. my fans, my true fans adore you. maybe even more than me. you’re only a few years younger than me and that isn’t an issue with me, love. i love you. you’ve brought the good luck for me. you bring faith every single race week especially this year where it’s been fucking hell most of the time. i can’t imaging my life without you, ever.” his words soothe your mind despite still feeling a bit anxious from those tweets you realize maybe listening to complete strangers rather than the love of your life wasn’t the best idea. however, lewis always validated your feelings and why you may have gotten lost in the dark side of the media where people aren’t always so accepting of your relationship.

“i’m sorry, lew. shouldn’t have listened to them i just…i don’t know how you deal with everything and still keep your head up. i’m exhausted,” you confess, you were never one to be on social media and read comments unless they were from friends or family. seeing how the last few races have been brutal for lewis you wanted to defend your boyfriend but ended up on the wrong side. “baby, you were with me for 2021. you are probably the only reason i didn’t quit and why i still haven’t. you’ve got faith in me, i hold that very dear to my heart. i’m with you till the end.” his last words make you cry some more but happy tears now as he chuckles at your smile, “there’s my girl. now, let’s take a break from the phone and cook some dinner together.”

he helps you off the stool and you grab his hand turning him back, “i love you too.” you pull him into a kiss and all lewis could think about is the engagement ring hiding under roscoe’s bed ready to make an appearance once the season is over.

#★ short n sweet friendsgiving event #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton drabble #lewis hamilton fanfic

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joicecubes · 5 months ago

Text

this started as a twitter post but it got way too long

i feel. INSANE. ABOUT FIDDLESTAN YOU GUYS. i’ll admit i didn’t get it at first, like the original concept seems kinda bonkers, they never interact! what a silly rarepair! BUT NO. I SAW A SINGLE PIECE OF FANART AND IT WAS OVER FOR ME. IM HOOKED. im sorry i need to talk about them

my favorite set-up for fiddlestan, and the one i see most people going with, is the idea that fiddleford comes back to ford’s house after ford’s already been sucked through the portal, so he finds stan instead. and thats like such perfect/devastating (depending on how you look at it) timing because their wounds from ford are both so raw.

i feel like this is gonna get long so. gay rambling under the cut

on the one hand, they get from each other what they never got from ford. or at least, what they lost from ford. fiddleford wants love, he wants his unwavering devotion to ford to be reciprocated. and stan, being such a deeply lonely person, can give him that! what he wants is companionship. he wants a friend, like what he had in his brother. he wants forgiveness. and god, fiddleford is one of the kindest, most forgiving characters in the show. if anyone will see where stan is coming from, if anyone can extend forgiveness and understanding where ford fell flat, it’s fiddleford.

and while this exemplifies just how deeply they would need each other in this scenario, when you think about how tightly they both clung to ford, there presents a very real possibility that one or both of them would feel like ford’s replacement.

stan is ford’s twin. people have played with the idea that fiddleford would see a lot ford in stan, even though they may not be very similar in demeanor. they look the same. and deep down, they do have similarities. alex hirsch said in a dvd commentary that there is more of ford in stan than he even realizes, and fiddleford would probably see that. not to mention just how deeply he would miss him.

and when stan has always felt like a worse version of ford, you can imagine he might feel like a stand-in, especially as him and fiddleford get closer. fiddleford, whether he means to or not, would definitely see his best friend in stan. he has his face for god’s sake!! and would stan just accept it? would he be upset to be seen in this light, to act as a replacement, or would he accept that he’ll always be second to ford? either way is just. DEVASTATING. for fiddleford to unintentionally confirm all of stan’s deepest fears and insecurities…

and then there’s what fiddleford is to stan. while i don’t think fiddleford would feel as deeply a replacement as stan does, he IS a big fucking nerd. and stan probably begged him for help getting ford back when he found out that fiddleford is not only a scientist, but worked on the portal in the first place. and he of course wants ford back too, but it wouldn’t surprise me if fiddleford ends up feeling like stan only keeps him around for that purpose and that purpose alone. to learn more about ford, to live vicariously through him as ford’s best friend. because stan is desperate to know more about him, to satiate this need, this wound of missing his brother for over a decade.

god and all the little things too… fiddleford being riddled with anxiety and stan being able to ground him, to knock some much-needed sense into him the next time he wants to pick up that memory gun. stan struggling to take care of himself, to see his own self worth, and fiddleford being there to make sure he eats enough food, reminds him to shower, helps wash or cut his unkempt hair. falling asleep holding each other, because they need that comfort, that warmth, that heartbeat, to feel okay enough to rest.

ugh you could do sooo much with these bitches it drives me up the wall. i feel so unwell just thinking about them. i could yap even more but i’ll keep that for another post

#they make me want to bash my head into a wall #thanks for reading i have so much to say about them #also i’m shipping fiddlestan here but none of this is meant to suggest stancest implications ew #the point is just that fidds and ford fulfill similar emotional needs for stan yk #gravity falls #fiddleford mcgucket #stanley pines #stan pines #fiddlestan #fiddleford x stanley #stanley x fiddleford #rambling #so much rambling #stanford pines

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the-bitter-ocean · 7 months ago

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Miscellaneous Childhood Mira doodles with Euphrasie + HCs of what her parents looked like (this isn’t canon this is just my take on it based on what little information adrienne gives and also the game itself gives on what Mirabelle was like precanon etc. Drawing of my hcs of Mirabelle parents designs as well as an insanely long character study/ theorizing on Mirabelle was like pre canon is under the cut:

“Ocean why do you assume she might not be on the best of terms / isn’t close with her biological parents” it’s like a combination of things tbh? Mirabelle mentions repeatedly how much the people of the House of Change, especially Euphrasie has done so much in helping her learn and grow into the person she is today. Throughout the game she talks about how much she cares about/ misses different people in the game and how they are all important to her. You’ve got the head Housemaiden Euphrasie, who did everything in her power to protect her at the cost of herself, was mirabelle’s mentor and even gave Mirabelle blessing of being immune to the King’s Time freezing powers. You’ve got Claude, Mirabelle’s roommate that she cares about despite sometimes getting on her nerves ( she knows how dedicated Claude is to helping others and stopping the king etc), her other fellow housemaidens, the people she knows in dormont and of course all her companions that chose to help her on the journey to stop the king in the first place (Isabeau Bonnie Odile and Siffrin) she loves very much. Initially before getting any information from the in character QnA or Twitter or the QnA on Reddit, I had assumed that her biological parents were dead or that she never met them or had them to begin with but it’s not the case here.

Mirabelle talks about that when she first arrived at the house / prior to getting there she didn’t know how to do a lot of things basic skills. Siffrin also mentioned that the journey itself really changed her since he first met ( because initially she was a lot more shy but now she’s more confident in herself as of canon events in the game). Mirabelle said that she was taught by Euphrasie and the other house maidens. It’s giving the vibes of someone who arrived at the house ( whether by personal conviction to run away and find people who will understand her / that she can hope to understand and connect to) or her parents dropped her off there because it would be easier for them to do at a young age.

M: {The Head Housemaiden...I have to save her...}

I: […]

M: {The Head Housemaiden...She's such a wonderful person." "She helped me out so much! I couldn't do anything before I came to the House, I could barely sew my own clothes, and she helped me, she taught me..." "I wouldn't be the person I am without her!"}

Despite all of this she doesn’t talk about her biological family at all not even in passing despite the whole “ everyone and everything as we know it in the country could be frozen in time for good if things don’t go well” ( which is noticeable in comparison to how easily she can talk about how much other people in her life has cared for her and how much she wants to save them all from the kings destruction). In a in character QnA session when the subject of families / parents was brought up she has a very stilted and awkward response. The tone she’s answering it in feels like she’s hesitating or at the very least isn’t a 100% sure on how she feels about her parents ( and in truth probably hasn’t or didn’t want to think about them). We see the kind of way Mirabelle talks when it’s about people she loves in game before! It’s passionate and confident and full of love/ conviction that she cares for them! So seeing that in comparison to this is well..this isn’t having that energy truth be told. (Screenshot for those that don’t use Twitter)

Also Adrienne a while back posted official character playlists for each of the characters on Spotify to give insight to everyone on what the characters vibes were like and the song choices were very striking to me. The song choice for Mirabelle in particular that made me go !!!! was seeing Elle me dit by MIKA . For those who are unaware of the song and what it’s about, it’s essentially a song about a mother telling her kid all her high expectations of him and how she’s disappointed in the way he’s living his life.

Given how Adrienne stated that mirabelles parents don’t understand her and she in turn doesn’t get them either, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s heard similar sentiments growing up / had that sort of pressure to Change or behave in a certain way. ( Even with her dedication the Change belief making her happy Mirabelle still will lament about how she’s afraid that she’s not doing enough as a house maiden or that her identity of being aroace somehow would upset others/ makes her feel alienated in comparison to how everyone else can change easily. ) This combined with the fact she canonically has anxiety and has moments where she isn’t very confident in herself is.. deeply worrying! Yes I’m aware that people can just have those types of thoughts even in a good supportive environment/ experiences but the combination of all those factors isn’t exactly aspiring confidence.

Anyway that’s my ramble I hope you all enjoyed my analysis/ headcanons yipeee ^_^

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sirhamburrger · 2 months ago

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rev up! - rocket league with the bllk boys

ᯤ feat. rensuke kunigami, reo mikage, tabito karasu, sae itoshi ᯤ tags/cw: all characters are aged up, they all hate the game to some degree except for reo he loves it ᯤ a/n: in case you don't know, rocket league is a game in which you play simplified soccer as a car. this is barely x reader anymore LOL i was just inspired watching my kid brother play and rage today || dividers by @cafekitsune part 1 [minecraft ver with the other main boys]

rensuke kunigami:

ᯤ expects it to be like a normal football game at first. that is, until you explain the rules of rocket league - that there are basically no proper rules at all ᯤ he’s actually kind of appalled that you have to play one to four aside instead of eleven, and each match is only three minutes long ᯤ “offside! did you see that? that was clearly offside!” ᯤ (you, trying to stifle your laughter) “ren… there is no offside…” ᯤ he keeps playing it just to make you laugh but quits after two weeks ᯤ preferred game mode: hoops (because at least it’s not soccer he’s defiling)

reo mikage:

ᯤ is pretty good with a controller - he is nagi’s best friend, after all ᯤ he takes out his anger on the game. ramming into the other players’ vehicles, demolishing them mid-skirmish, pushing his own (bad) teammates out of the way to score goals ᯤ gets really good after a while and even starts streaming with nagi ᯤ as mentioned earlier he hates when the teammates he gets matched up with are really bad (that’s when the profanities come pouring out 🤗) ᯤ but he’s so good that he gets at least a five-point lead in every single game anyway ᯤ preferred game mode: classic 3v3, occasionally snow day (with the ice hockey puck)

tabito karasu:

ᯤ he constantly gripes about every single thing that he thinks is wrong with the game. ᯤ “why do i always get matched up with opponents who play together on the same xbox?? they can communicate that’s not fair” ᯤ (after an opponent knocks him out of the way) “ref! ref, that was definitely a foul. don’t tell me ya don’t think that’s a foul.” (there is no ref) ᯤ once he got yukimiya and otoya to play with him against rin, shidou and nagi ᯤ and they won because rin, as previously established, has the gaming skills of a centenarian. not even nagi could save his team from demise ᯤ but he’s always nice to you when you play with him :) ᯤ preferred game mode: heatseeker

sae itoshi:

ᯤ loathes the game with all his heart. his gaming reflexes are pretty decent but he thinks the game is stupid and an insult to soccer. (“you're never going to be able to play soccer with cars.”) ᯤ regularly challenges rin to 1v1s. rin never refuses and seeing his brother lose so spectacularly fuels sae’s ego ᯤ he got twitter and insta and tiktok just so he can clown the game. his angry rants on car soccer rack up hundreds of thousands of views in mere hours. rocket league reaches out to him for a sponsorship deal. sae’s manager makes him say yes. ᯤ preferred game mode: he hates the game, didn’t you know? if he had to choose though it would probably be classic 3v3. b-but it’s not like he likes it or anything!!

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

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squidpedia · 1 year ago

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HI I’M PEDIA, MASTERPOST DOWN BELOW BUT HOLD ON REALLY QUICK READ MY FAQ:

Boundaries on reposting, dubbing, and pfp’s?

Dubs and reposts are ok just let me know please so i can check it out (and give credit duh)! Send it to my inbox or dm’s or something, anything, pleaseeee I’d want to see!!!!! PFP’s also don’t need permission, just include credit somewhere like your bio!

I sent you an ask a while ago/tagged you in a post but you never responded, did I upset you somehow?

NO I’M JUST AWFUL AT RESPONDING TO ASKS AND TEND TO MISS A LOT OF NOTIFICATIONS I’M SORRYYYYYY YOUREE FINEEEEEE. ITS YOU AND LIKE 150 OTHER PEOPLE I PROMMY IM JUST TERRIBLE. don’t be afraid to rb it and tag me in the rb again, sorry for that!

I sent you a dm but didn’t get a responce

Sorry yeah once again youre far from alone!! I mainly keep my dm’s open incase of inquiries/concerns, but like otherwise when it comes to just casual chatting in the dm’s I prefer to limit that to my 18+ mutuals, sorry nothing against you! You’d have better luck with my inbox!

I liked this drawing concept you made. Can I make fanart, redraw it in my style, or make something inspired by it?

YEAH!!!! Flattered and happy I inspired you in that way!! Just 1) tag and credit me, because I would be so sad if I didn’t see and would love love love to rb it and 2) if it’s a redraw, try to link back to original post if possible (but I forget to mention that a lot so that second part isn’t as big of a deal)

What about writing fics?

A FEW OF YOU ARE WILD FOR THAT BUT YEAH GO OFF?????? Still let me know, give credit, tag me if possible, clarify any questions you have in the dm’s if you want! Id be happy to elaborate on literally anything!

Socials?

I have a Youtube, Twitter (lurking only at this point), Instagram (not super active), Bluesky, and a Switch (SW-2670-2211-5056) (thats not a social but you should crash my splatoon lobbies)

Pronouns?

Any👍

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

UTDR/UTY COMICS MASTERPOST

(uty comics are highlighted in orange if you’re more interested in the strictly undertale comics)

Clover’s Memories (ongoing - i prommy)

(1/22 update - no i haven’t worked really worked on it in a minute. Reasons are kinda loaded at this point why its so hard to work on but just know its not cancelled ok, the last entry is the part that excites me the most and if i have to skip straight to the end at some point then i’ll just do that)

Clover’s Hat (post revive au)

Part 1 /// Part 2 /// Bonus

Kanako Integrity Duo (really short mini doodle comics)

Reconciliation // Introductions // Ceroba // Chujin

Miscellaneous:

Kris Clover Interaction // Kind Soul // Frisk vs. Clover’s POV // Bedtime // Who’s Your Friend? // Pipe Down // Family Visit // Unwell // Letter // Humor // Gamer // They // Kicked Out // It Keeps Happening // What’s In A Name // Clover’s Nightmare (i’ll probably make a cleaner version later) // Banter // Time

TAGS:

#Happily Ever After and Then Some (HEAaTS?) -> everyone lives au (based on the events of undertale and uty) including chara, flowey/asriel gets his body back, fallen kids, where i offer very limited explanation for why or how because it simply makes me really self-conscious to try to come up with reasoning and really i just want to imagine these characters in fun and interesting scenarios. Theyre all alive, just go with it and have fun! Note this is not a comic series or anything, i just like doodling random scenarios sometimes. So a few comics, some doodles, whatever is fun rn for me

#Phantom integrity au -> someone sent an ask once about what if clover’s narrator was integrity. It’s a fun idea to explore and where I got the concept of Lilac’s design for! It’s not something I think about very often but I like drawing ghosty lilac. Its not “canon” to lilac’s lore, but its fun. Ps if you wanna make your own content based off this concept, please go for it!! You don’t even have to use lilac, i call it the phantom integrity au and not narra lilac just in case someone wants to yoink the concept for their own integrity. I think that’d be awesome :)

#Deltarune Orange -> went crazy one too many 5am mornings in a row and started cooking this. Basically just my deltarune yellow take but i wanted a unique name and it has stuff to do, with orange

#Undertale Heart to Heart -> posts talking about my designs and thoughts regarding the other fallen kids. Its mostly lilac sorry. individual kids got their own tags like #aimee hth but I'm not linking them lol sorry

#Pedias art -> yuh

#Other peoples art -> you should check them out please 🥺

#old talking tag that im too lazy to get rid of ->#pedia says stuff #i guess we doin new talking tag now ->#moth talk #pedias art #duke

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its-time-to-write · 2 years ago

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OOOO what about Jamie having a huge crush on the reader so much so it’s effecting how he thinks like how he was in the show where he played against Man City. So Roy and Keeley follow him (like in the show) and see him spying/ watching (he’d never admit it) the reader whos working either as a waitress or a bookshop owner because he’s too nervous to go in. Or maybe even secret girlfriend where they follow him and accidentally meet the reader whos been in a secret relationship with Jamie. Lol I hope you can understand what I was trying to say 😅

Pretty sure I picked up what you put down! Here ya go!

don’t go wasting your emotion

Jamie Tartt is not acting like himself.

The first person to notice is Roy, because it shows in his training. He seems… distracted. So he mentions it to Keeley, and asks her to keep an eye out. They have some big games coming up, and Richmond cannot afford a distracted Jamie. Keeley promises she’ll check up on him soon, but Jamie just keeps getting weirder.

He jumps and hides his phone when Dani plops down next to him on the locker room bench, passes the ball to the opposing side during practice, and keeps going offside. It isn’t long before the other coaches notice, as well as his teammates. The only one who doesn’t seem particularly worried is Sam. When Isaac asks him if he’s noticed anything off about Jamie, Sam just shrugs and says, “It’s probably nothing. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.”

AFC Richmond does not have time to wait. They need Jamie to get his head out of the clouds and back firmly on earth.

Shortly after Isaac’s talk with Sam, Colin catches Sam and Jamie whispering in the weight room. He catches snippets of words like, “can’t know,” “just do it,” and… “bookstore”? Surely he didn’t hear that right. Colin shrugs and heads to go see Trent. He’s an investigative journalist. He’s got to have some insight.

Colin presents this information to Trent, Ted, Beard, and Roy, none of whom have any real ideas. As they try to come up with plausible scenarios, Trent leans agains the door with his mug in quiet thought.

“You’ve been mighty quiet over there, Mr. Independent. What’re your thoughts?” Ted asks.

“I’m not sure,” Trent replies. “We simply don’t have enough facts to come to a conclusion. What we need is someone to follow Jamie after work and see if that will provide any insights.”

“I’ll do it.”

The room turns to look at Roy. He looks uncomfortable. “Keeley and I have been meaning to talk to him anyway, and if he fucking catches any of you lot following him, he’ll never fucking trust you again. I’m your best choice.”

Beard looks at Ted, and they nod.

Ted says, “Alright Roylock Holmes. You and Dr. Jones have fun tonight. Let us know what you find out,” and that’s that.

—

Roy calls Keeley and tells her the situation, and it’s not hard to find a pretense for her to be with the team. It’s movie night, and she’s there more often than not. They have pretty much unanimously decided on Paddington, mostly to heal Dani’s trauma from hearing the Paddington Twitter account gave Richmond no marmalade sandwiches. That’s what they say, at least, but if they are crying within the first fifteen minutes, that’s not for anyone to say.

Jamie sits in the back and he keeps looking at his phone. Sam pokes him and Richard catches something that sounds like, “Go- can’t expect- if you didn’t ask,” at which Jamie nods, looks around, and then slips out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac asks Sam, who shrugs and says, “I would assume to use the restroom.”

Isaac turns back to the screen, but Roy and Keeley look at each other, nod, and quickly get up to follow Jamie.

They trail him out the building and down the street, watching as he puts his hood up in an effort not to be noticed. They follow him for half a mile as Jamie makes a very purposeful trek through Richmond, unaware that he’s being followed.

Keeley and Roy turn a corner then stop, because Jamie has stopped. He’s just out of sight of some big glass windows. He checks the time, gives himself a shake, then removes his hood and pulls the door open. Keeley and Roy share a look and rush to the window.

It’s a bookstore. The sign on the door says they close an hour from now, at 9pm. Jamie is inside leaning on the checkout counter, talking and laughing with you, the cashier.

“Started that book you told me about,” he says. “You’re right. I hate it.”

“Right??” you reply. “Isn’t it awful? It makes no sense at all, and reading it makes you feel like you’re on drugs, and it’s supposed to be a classic! Thank god you only got it at the library and didn’t have to waste money on it.”

Jamie laughs. “Got any real recommendations this time? Trying to become more cultured.”

You laugh too. “You know, you’re a lot more cultured than you think. You’ve understood most of my references, and you have an impressive vocabulary. You have a wonderful grasp on the difference between intellectual and conversational tone.”

Roy and Keeley can’t tell what you’re saying, but they’re thinking the same thing. Is Jamie blushing?

Before they can ponder this, you come out from behind the counter to lead Jamie to a shelf. You both look straight at Roy and Keeley, who duck. You turn to Jamie, humor on your face. “Friends of yours?” you quip.

“Un-fucking-fortunately,” he responds. “Oi!”

Roy and Keeley slowly pop back up and Jamie exasperatedly beckons them inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roy, stoic as ever, just grunts. Keeley says, “We were worried about you! You were acting all weird and botching things at practice. We thought you were dying!”

Roy rolls his eyes. You’re doing your best to maintain a straight face.

You know exactly who these people are. You know Keeley Jones because who doesn’t know about Keeley Jones? You know Roy Kent because he came up as a suggested search after you googled Jamie.

Jamie has been coming into your bookshop for a while now. At first it was to look for some book about forgiveness, but after you helped him pick that out he just… kept coming back. He’d lean against the counter, supported by his elbows, and stay from 8pm until closing. Usually, he was the only customer you’d get that time of night.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was a) gorgeous and b) definitely flirting with you. He wasn’t the first customer to fancy himself in love with you, but he was the first that you actually liked back. And the first who really read what you said you liked.

You just didn’t get why he hadn’t made a move yet, especially after looking him up. It didn’t make sense. You considered making the first move, but that freaked you out too much. Still, despite his inaction on that front, he kept coming back and talking to you. Sometimes he’d bring you coffee. He’d always help you close the store. You once joked that you should put him on the payroll, to which he looked at you, and deadpanned, “You couldn’t afford me.”

You’re pretty sure that’s the moment you actually fell for him. You’re a sucker for a good, stupid sense of humor.

“Why would you think I were dyin?” Jamie asks.

Keeley shrugs and Roy answers, “Because you’ve been playing like shit.”

Jamie glares at Roy. “I have not, you dusty old twat. You take that back.”

Keeley clears her throat. “Well, actually babes, you kind of have. It’s been this whole thing. Everybody’s worried about you!”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are you all in my business? Did Sam put you up to this?”

“Why the fuck would Sam put us up to this?” Roy asks.

“Because Sam caught Jamie looking at my Instagram,” you interject.

Three sets of eyes turn to you. “What?” you shrug. “Sam looked up my handle and messaged me about it. We’re friends now.”

Jamie shakes his head in disbelief and Roy says, “So Sam fucking knew about this?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red as he says, “Uh, yeah, so Sam’s been telling me I need to ask her out for like fuckin ages now. Always on me about how it’s dumb to keep checking my phone for her texts, especially because I haven’t even asked for her number or some shit.”

You swear that is the dumbest, cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“You want my number?” your voice comes out an octave higher than you’d like it to.

Jamie turns to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. Been meanin’ to ask you, but I dunno, I keep telling myself you’re just being nice to me ‘cause of your job. Didn’t want to be fuckin weird.”

You smile. “Jamie Tartt, for someone so intelligent you really are dumb sometimes.”

He looks pleased with the compliment, then offended, then he realizes what you’re saying. His face goes through those expressions in a moment and then your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Keeley looks on with a smile and Roy stares at the ceiling uncomfortable.

You break apart and Roy says, “Oi, Tartt!”

You and Jamie turn to look at him, arms still around each other.

“This better mean you’re done fucking up practice.”

“Yes coach,” Jamie mock-salutes.

Roy gives him a singular nod, and with that, he and Keeley head out the door. Keeley gives you a little wave and a thumbs up to Jamie.

“Now, where were we?” Jamie asks. “Oh, right…”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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