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mingi-s-dimples · 3 months ago

Text

Dear Diary... - San

~"Hi love hope you’re doing well✨ Ive read your San kitten fic and I enjoyed it 😀tremendously 🔥. Now If it’s ok with you (I couldn’t find it in your blog that if you’re ok with this kink or nah) to write [cnc+ dirty talk and corruption kink]with San?? And if not cnc anything that comes from authority figures of him. Pls plssss ignore this if it’s makes you uncomfortable ❤️🍓" ~ queen I haven't written cnc corruption kink in my life. I hope I got the idea, even the slightest 😞.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+

summary: san read your little journal.. and that ends with you screaming his name.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: dom!san, big dick!san, he eats her out, dirty talk, some cnc + corruption kink (he kinda softly makes her submit to it when he reads her diary + he doesn't care that she's a virgin and he actually encourages it even more so i guess it works? i'm so sorry i never wrote corruption kink before i promise i'll do better 😞💖), she's a virgin, neck holding and softly choking, marking all over, mamhandling, vaginal sex, he doesn't fuck he pounds, multiple orgasms, she screams out his name duh, some crumb of aftercare, cockwarming, unprotected (she's supposedly on bc but booo use protection!), unedited might edit later, for sure forgot something, completely consensual (after he makes her submit to him!)

Author's Note: woahhhh I haven't wrote in a while ngl. Felt good to be back.. sorry for not posting 😞. Life updates: Had 3 exams and I almost failed one but upsies it's maths 💀, had a bf for 3 days cause he acted weird and he said I'm his everything and that he loves me and that he can't be without me and I was like brotha ew we've been tgt for 3 days... and he got offended and unfollowed me everywhere 💀 boys these days... (i sound like a 70yo granma). Anyways I hope I'll post way more these days! There are only two exams to go, one this Friday and one this Saturday (for tutoring!) so I'll disappear again until Saturday night 🧍‍♀️ but I'll post on Sunday ! everyone cheer pls. Love youuuuuu allll

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The rich scent of steak still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint remnants of laughter and conversation from earlier in the evening. Your small apartment felt quieter now, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of San’s beer bottle against the counter breaking the silence.

The others had left hours ago, leaving just you and him—like it so often did. You couldn’t even remember how it had started, the unspoken rule that San always stuck around longer than anyone else, as if this place belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“You’re really not going to let those dishes wait until tomorrow, are you?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk. The casual authority in his tone was infuriatingly familiar, yet somehow impossible to ignore.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you stacked the last plate. “And let me guess—you’re going to stand there, drinking your beer, and not help.”

“Exactly.” His grin widened, infuriating and so utterly *him.* “I’ve got my role down. Yours is to overachieve and keep pretending you don’t have OCD about cleaning up after people.”

“I do not—” you started, only to cut yourself off with a sigh. There was no winning with San.

Instead, you gave him a look, grabbed the last of the plates, and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone,” you called back over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

San watched you go, waiting until the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed faintly down the hallway. Then his attention drifted lazily around the room.

Your apartment was familiar in a way that made it feel like a second home—organized chaos, with books, mismatched blankets, and stray notebooks scattered across every available surface. It was the kind of place that felt lived-in, every corner a reflection of your mind: half-stressed, half-dreaming.

It was a notebook on the coffee table that caught his eye.

It wasn’t hidden, exactly. Half-tucked under a glossy magazine, its leather cover gleamed faintly in the low light. The word *Private* was written neatly across the front in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere—yours.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Private, huh?” he murmured, setting his beer down and reaching for the notebook.

He flipped it open, expecting to find the usual: to-do lists, random doodles, or the same kind of perfectly planned schedules you’d been making since grade school. But instead, his eyes landed on something else.

*Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to lose control completely. To have someone take charge and make me do things I’d never admit I want. Things I’d never say out loud...*

San froze, his grin fading as his eyes skimmed over the words. The meaning hit him slowly, like a low-burning flame that spread heat through his chest and settled somewhere.. lower.

*...to be pinned down, held in place, unable to fight back but not really wanting to. To have someone whisper filthy things in my ear and tell me how much they love seeing me fall apart under their control...*

He swallowed hard, his grip on the notebook tightening as he kept reading. The words painted vivid pictures in his mind—images he’d never dared associate with you before, no matter how many times his teasing had drifted close to the edge.

But this was different. This wasn’t teasing. This was your handwriting, your fantasies laid bare on the pages in front of him.

And the worst—or maybe the best—part? He couldn’t stop reading.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped him out of it. He quickly snapped the notebook shut, placing it back on the coffee table just as you stepped into the room.

When your eyes landed on him, standing far too close to the coffee table, your expression immediately shifted. Suspicion flickered across your face, followed by alarm as you spotted the notebook.

“No,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper. “San... Tell me you didn’t.”

He arched a brow, leaning casually against the arm of the couch as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t what?”

Your stomach twisted. “You didn’t read that, did you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You left it out in plain sight, sweetheart. Hard not to be curious.”

“San!” Your voice rose in a mix of panic and mortification as you rushed over, snatching the notebook off the table. You clutched it to your chest, your cheeks burning so hot you could feel the heat spreading to your neck.

He watched you with infuriating calm, his dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite name. “Relax,” he said, his tone deceptively soothing. “It’s not like I read the whole thing.”

Your heart sank. “What... what did you read?”

San pushed off the couch and stepped closer, closing the space between you with deliberate ease. He stopped just inches away, towering over you in that way that always made you feel small—and not entirely in a bad way.

“Enough to know you’ve got some... interesting thoughts rattling around in that head of yours,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Care to explain?”

You shook your head, mortified. “No. Absolutely not. You shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he interrupted, his tone sharpening just slightly. “Picked it up? Read it? Or are you just embarrassed that I know now?”

You glared at him, though your resolve was already wavering. “This isn’t funny, San.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Who said I’m joking?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s time someone gave you what you’ve been asking for.”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, even though you knew you should.

San’s smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Mhm-” he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken intent.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, as if he could see through every feeble defense you were trying to put up. The notebook still clutched against your chest felt like a useless shield, doing nothing to block the heat of his presence or the weight of his words.

“Not going to tell me to stop?” he asked, the challenge clear in his tone. “Guess that means you don’t want me to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. “This is not funny, San,” you whispered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Funny? Not even a little.” He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker. “But it is fascinating. You, scribbling all those dirty thoughts down like a good little secret-keeper, acting all innocent around me—who would’ve guessed?”

“Stop,” you said, the word trembling as it left your lips.

“Why?” His brow arched in amusement, though his voice remained low and intent. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Or is it hitting a little too close to home?”

Before you could answer—or even think of a response—he reached out, plucking the notebook from your hands with maddening ease.

“San!” you exclaimed, reaching for it, but he held it out of reach, his grin never faltering.

“Let’s see,” he said, flipping it open again as your heart dropped into your stomach. “Ah, here it is... *I want to be taken—rough, merciless, made to feel like I can’t get enough.*” He glanced at you, his smirk widening at the audible hitch in your breath. “Quite the vivid imagination you’ve got there, sweetheart.”

“Give it back!” you said, your voice cracking.

“Why?” He shifted the notebook to his other hand, holding it out of reach. “Are you scared because I know how badly you want this?”

Your knees felt weak as he stepped closer, invading your space with the kind of confidence that left you feeling unmoored.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying and failing to glare at him.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin sharpening. “But at least I’m honest. You? Not so much.”

San’s free hand brushed against your jaw, his touch light but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his voice teasing but softer. “Is it embarrassment? Ouu, is it.. something else?”

“San,” you said, his name coming out more like a plea than a protest.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head as his thumb traced along your jawline. “Can’t take the heat?”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “Thought so.”

Without warning, his hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you closer. His other hand dropped the notebook onto the couch, freeing him to let his fingers trail down your arm, light enough to make you shiver.

“You know what I think?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

You shook your head, your breath uneven.

“I think you’ve been waiting for someone to see past all that sweet, good-girl bullshit,” he continued, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw, “and call you what you really are.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words lodging in your throat. “San...”

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, enough to make you gasp. “What’s wrong? Don’t like hearing it? Or do you like it too much?”

The way your thighs pressed together didn’t escape his notice, and his grin sharpened.

“You’re easy to read,” he said softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”

Your lips parted, a faint whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower to trace the curve of your waist. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, the air between you crackling with tension. He didn’t kiss you, but the sheer proximity left you trembling.

“You can tell me to stop,” he said again, his voice rough but steady. “One word, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.”

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

San’s grin returned, slower and more deliberate. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to push you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “to see how far you’ll let them go. Haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

San leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “Say the word,” he said quietly. “And I’ll stop.”

Your silence said everything, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

Before you could process his words, his hands were on you again—fast, firm, deliberate. His grip was steady as he lifted you effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing at all. A gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but the smirk never left his face.

“You wrote about this, didn’t you?” San teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he carried you across the room. “Right there in your little journal. I had no idea you had such... vivid thoughts.”

He dropped you on the bed. San stood at the edge of it, arms crossed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. You were there, sprawled across the mattress, your chest heaving from the tension that hung heavy between you. The heat of your earlier argument still simmered in the air, but now the power had shifted entirely into his hands—and you both knew it.

“You’ve been quiet ever since,” San murmured, his voice low and mocking as he stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Not so bold now that I know what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours?”

Your gaze darted away, heat creeping up your neck, but San wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed in one smooth motion, his weight sinking the mattress as he caged you beneath him. One hand pressed into the sheets beside your head, while the other traced the curve of your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t even think about hiding from me now,” he said softly, the mockery in his tone laced with undeniable command. “Not after everything you wrote. Not after you left me to read between the lines of those fantasies you scribbled down so... shamelessly.”

Your breath hitched, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, which only made his smirk widen.

“I have to admit,” he continued, leaning closer until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear, “I didn’t know you could be *this* filthy. Wanting to be manhandled? Thrown around? Tamed?” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone both teasing and heavy with promise. “Tell me, did you ever imagine I’d actually do it?”

“I-..” You shuddered beneath him, your fingers curling into the sheets as you struggled to form a response. But San was relentless, his hand trailing down to your throat, his grip firm but not restricting as he tilted your head up toward him.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he whispered, his gaze locking with yours. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left that journal out. When you wrote about how badly you wanted someone to take control. To leave you breathless, shaking… *ruined.*”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline, his hand still firm on your throat. “Admit that you’ve been waiting for me to push you like this. That you wanted me to see *every* word of it.”

“I—” your voice faltered, trembling under the weight of his intensity. “Mh..mhm” you were only able to mumble some word.

His fingers loosened just enough to stroke the column of your neck. “Good girl.”

He leaned back just slightly, enough to drink in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and trembling. His grin was wicked as he reached for your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that left no room for resistance.

“Now,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips hovered mere inches from yours, “let’s see if you’re ready to live up to everything you wrote, sweetheart.”

Your head tilted back against the mattress, and the tension in the room thickened until it was nearly suffocating. The way San hovered above you, all sharp grins and teasing touches, had you trembling with anticipation. But as his words replayed in your mind, something inside you snapped.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, your voice shaky but certain. “You’ve already read it. You know exactly what I want.”

San’s brow arched, his smirk sharpening as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You. All of you. No teasing, no holding back.” Your voice softened, almost a whisper now. “Please.”

San let out a low chuckle, his dark gaze flickering with amusement and something darker—something primal. “You’re begging now?” he mused, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear that so soon.”

“I’m serious,” you said, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your jawline. “No going back now. Just—just fuck me, San.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as though savoring the sight of you so vulnerable beneath him. Then, with deliberate ease, he sat back and tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, the fabric landing somewhere behind him.

You couldn’t help it; your eyes roamed over his toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle catching the dim light. Your breath caught, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t wait for an answer, peeling the fabric off your body just as effortlessly. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under the intensity of it.

“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his hands moved to your waistband. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding your pants down your legs with maddening precision.

But then he stopped.

Stepping back, he straightened to his full height, his hands already moving to unbuckle his own belt. The metallic clink of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he worked.

He was slow—so agonizingly slow—pulling the leather free and tossing it aside before unbuttoning his pants. The sharp sound of his zipper being undone felt deafening in the charged silence, and the deliberate pace had your heart racing.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smug as he slid the denim down his hips, revealing inch after inch of skin.

You didn’t answer, too captivated by the sight of him to form a coherent thought. Your gaze locked onto him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach as desire overtook every part of you.

“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping closer, his smirk never fading. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him with nothing but raw, unfiltered lust. “Not even close.”

His laugh was deep, rumbling, and utterly intoxicating. “Good,” he said simply, lowering himself back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “Because I’m just getting started.”

San crawled over you with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His weight pressed into the mattress, pinning you in place as he leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, teasing but not yet giving.

One of his hands wrapped firmly around your neck, the pressure just enough to remind you who was in control. The way his thumb brushed against the side of your throat made your breath hitch, a soft gasp escaping you as your body instinctively arched toward him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

His other hand was down around his cock, his movements slow, lazy, and unhurried as he stroked himself. The subtle motion made your mouth go dry, your gaze flickering downward for a split second before snapping back up to meet his. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the way your body responded to the tension crackling between you.

San smirked at your reaction, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your neck as he brought his lips closer, brushing them lightly against yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—but the sensation was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through you.

Then, just as you started to lean up, desperate for more, the hand from his cock moved. Slowly, almost torturously, he trailed it from himself to your thigh. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, before he hooked his hand under your leg and spread it out beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp as his palm pressed against the inside of your knee, holding you open with deliberate ease. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips finally crashing against yours. The kiss was searing, hungry, and consuming, his hand still firm on your throat as he claimed you completely. Your mind was spinning, your body surrendering to the heat of him, to the way he dominated every inch of your senses.

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, grounding you as his thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw. The other hand remained on your leg, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin as he shifted his weight, pressing himself closer.

“You’re mine now,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “No running, no hiding. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him closer. And San, ever the tease, chuckled low in his throat, his lips moving to your jaw as he whispered, “Good girl.”

As San’s lips devoured yours, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him, a quiet confession slipped out before you could stop it.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice trembling and almost lost in the heat of the moment.

San stilled for just a second, his head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, processing your words. The smirk that crept onto his lips was slow and deliberate, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, his tone low, curious, and laced with disbelief. “After everything you wrote in that journal?”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t meet his gaze, but you nodded, swallowing hard. “I... I just—”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your neck remained firm as his free hand slid up your thigh again, spreading you out even further beneath him. “So what?” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think that changes anything?”

Your heart pounded as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice taking on a deeper, more commanding edge. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, unable to form words, and his smirk deepened.

“Good,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Then I’ll make sure your first time is something you’ll *never* forget.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, hungry and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kisses grew rougher, more possessive, as though he was claiming you in every sense of the word.

When he finally pulled away, your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, and he wasted no time. His mouth trailed down the curve of your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses that turned into light nips. His tongue soothed each bite, sending shivers down your spine as he moved lower, down the column of your throat.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and dripping with authority. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

His kisses continued, his teeth grazing over the soft curve of your collarbone before he bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through your body, and you arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered, the praise making your stomach flip as he moved lower. His lips and teeth marked a path down your body, every kiss, every bite leaving a faint bloom of heat behind. He was methodical, deliberate, as though he wanted to cover every inch of your skin.

When he reached your hips, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart as he settled himself between them. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm and teasing.

“Right here,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise as his fingers gripped your leg firmly, keeping you pinned in place. “This is where you’re going to feel me the most. Where I’m going to leave my mark.”

You gasped softly, and before you could respond, his teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The sensation was intoxicating, his tongue soothing the bite immediately after, and the combination left you trembling beneath him.

San pulled back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he looked up at you. “You’re already shaking,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re going to fall apart for me, sweetheart. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as he hovered over your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. The way he teased you—his lips brushing so close but never where you wanted them—had your body trembling with anticipation.

San chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he tilted his head up to look at you. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Impatient, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Can’t wait to have me, can you?”

You whimpered softly, your grip on his hair tightening just enough to pull a satisfied laugh from him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone darkening as he settled himself between your legs. “I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s see how loud I can make you.”

And with that, he dove in.

His lips pressed against your clit, hot and unrelenting, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, a languid stroke that left you breathless.

San wasted no time after that, his mouth working against it with a precision that had your head spinning. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled but still thick with satisfaction. “Even better than I imagined.”

You couldn’t respond—not with the way he was overwhelming your senses, reducing you to gasps and whimpers as he found every sensitive spot. Your hands tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the pressure, the vibrations only adding to the fire building inside you.

San pulled back just enough to press a kiss against your inner thigh, his lips swollen and glistening. “Don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to hear everything. Every moan, every gasp—let me hear how much you need me.”

And then he was back, his mouth and tongue relentless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his grip on your thighs tightening as your body started to tremble beneath him. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but surrender completely to the way he consumed you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, your hands still tangled in his hair. San didn’t stop until your body went slack against the mattress, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

But he wasn’t done—not even close.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to survey the sight of you sprawled beneath him, still shaking from the aftermath. His voice was low, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Before you could respond, San moved with the kind of precision that left no room for resistance. His hands gripped your hips firmly, flipping you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion. A startled gasp escaped you, but it was quickly muffled as he pressed your face into the mattress, one hand splayed across the back of your neck, holding you in place.

“Don’t think we’re done yet,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned over you. The heat of his bare chest against your back sent shivers down your spine, and you felt him press his hips into you, letting you feel just how ready he was.

Your heart raced as his free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I’m not holding back… at all.”

His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you whimpered softly, your body arching instinctively beneath him. His voice dropped lower, the words sending a thrill through you as he murmured, “You’re mine now. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you *feel* it.”

The blunt heat of him pressed against your cunt, and before you could even brace yourself, he pushed into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion. The stretch burned, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed it, and you cried out, muffled against the mattress as he filled you completely.

San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with a force that made your entire body jolt. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with lust as he set a relentless pace. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each thrust drawing gasps and moans from you that only seemed to spur him on. He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself deeper, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the rough, unyielding way he moved against you. His hand slid from your hip to your throat, pulling you up slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin to leave yet another mark.

“You’re mine,” he muttered again, his voice ragged as his thrusts grew even harder, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I-I'm yours..! ,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to the sheets, completely lost in him.

“Good girl.. or should I say..” he murmured, his grip tightening as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering, never giving you a moment to catch your breath, “good slut?”.

His words made your cunt tighten around him, a grunt escaping his throat.

San’s pace didn’t let up for a moment, his grip firm on your waist as he powerfully ounded into you, every thrust driving you closer to another earth-shattering release. Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he could feel the way you tightened around him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough and commanding as he reached one hand between your legs, his fingers finding the spot that made you jolt… your swollen clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his relentless thrusts and the way his fingers worked you had you teetering on the edge in seconds. Your cries grew louder, the tension coiling in your stomach until it finally snapped, a powerful wave of pleasure crashing through you as you screamed his name.

“San!” you sobbed, your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled into you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He didn’t pull out right away, instead leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your damp skin. “You took me so well, sweetheart. Screaming my name like that... you’re so fucking perfect.”

You whimpered softly, still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smirked, his voice dropping to a darker, dirtier tone. “Bet you loved having me ruin you like this. Didn’t you, baby? All that talk about wanting to be manhandled—looks like you got exactly what you wanted.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, gripping you firmly as he pulled you upright, your back pressing against his chest. The move made you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his cock still deep inside you.

“That’s what you get for leaving your little journal unattended,” he growled, his smirk sharp and satisfied as he stared into your eyes. “I bet you loved every fucking second of it. Didn’t you?”

Your lips trembled, but you managed a breathless, “Y-yes… y-es I did..”

San’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his grip on your neck softening as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance.

He held you there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his tone gentler now, though no less possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands came up to rest over his, your body leaning into his embrace as you whispered, “Always yours.”

San let out a satisfied hum, holding you close as the heat of the moment began to fade, replaced by a warmth that felt just as overwhelming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against your hair as he held you, his arms never loosening.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

#ateez fanfic #blossomnet #illusionnet #mingi s dimples masterlist #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #ateez #smut fic #ateez smut #smut #san x y/n #san fic #san x reader #san smut #choi san

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sanaexus · 11 months ago

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pass pass- oh smash. -oikawa toruu

the inarazaki volleyball team was nothing short of chaos. be it the twins bickering, suna recording every fight, aran cheering them on, omimi's loud sighs of disappointment, kita's scolding and the manager's threat was something that happened on a daily basis, it was normal.

but despite all that nothing changed the fact that they were all extremely close, specially with the manager. in the past all most all the managers quit because of how patient you needed to be dealing with the havoc they created. but you were different. dealing with their bullshit every day, helping them with whatever they needed and just being a friend they really needed.

while to anyone outside it may have seemed like you have romantic feelings for one of them and that's why you chose to become the manager, so you could be closer to them. but that really wasn't the case. the last thing you'd like was one of those hooligans.

it was supposed to be a normal practice match with aoba johsai, but this was inarizaki they were talking about, of course it wasn't.

no one knew you were dating oikawa. no, everyone just automatically assumed you were with atsumu. they weren't exactly to blame, you were close to him but that's what happens when you know someone since your childhood.

to say you were tensed about the match was an understatement. not only about how this was going to end on the court but about how the teams would react if they somehow got to know you were with oikawa.

but it was as if luck decided to make a complete fool of me their entire team came barging in, the loud entrance made everyone flinch for a second as they stared at the door.

now you were panicking and omi being the actual saint he was asked you, "are you alright?"

"no, fuck shit no, do i look alright?" i was pacing back and forth trying to hide my face thinking about ways to hide myself from oikawa or at least let him no that he shouldn't approach me.

"are you alright you look like you just saw a ghost"

"that's because i saw someone worse than a ghost! oh my godd can i call in sick please?" you pleaded with him, trying to find any excuse that would get you out of here.

"no. why would you want that, what happened?"

"i'm kinda maybe sorta might be dating someone from seijoh"

"what's the problem, he's in seijoh this is volley- wait you have boyf- WHAT?"

the yelling had caught the team's attention as they look at the both of you confused.

"WE'RE FINE, NOTHING HAPPENED" as you glare at omi "shhh are you trying to get me killed here? the problem is he is the volleyball team and is kinda the captain of the team. i'm just gonna pray he isn't stupid enough to approach me here with these creatures all around me"

"praying isn't going to be enough for what the twins might do to him if they find out."

cue the bad luck as kindaichi and kunimi wave at you, surprised you're standing at the other side of the court. your hands frantically making the cross sign across your chest mouthing "stay away, you don't know me"

"oh wait how about you text him or something to like not come up to you and you'll explain later"

"ohhh my god you're a genius i love you omi"

as you whip your phone out going to text iwaizumi with your hands shaking.

-IWAIZUMI HELP

why do you look like you're about to pass out? are you fine?

-it's because i might pass out any second. my team doesn't know i'm dating oikawa

-yeah tell him to not approach me please if they find out i'll be dead

i'll do it. good luck w this mess

-thank you i owe you big time

you look up from your phone to talk to omi- "i told his bestfriend to tell him to not approach me that should work right?"

"why didn't you tell him directly? what if he thinks he's just saying it so he stays focused"

"ohhh you're like SUPPER smart, i dont know what i'd do without you"

"probably have your little affair get caught"

you just mutter a little "rude" before going to text oikawa. but before you can, he comes in yelling.

"Y/NNN CHANN I MISSED YOUUU" his whiney voice can be heard to everyone as he jogs his over to you.

you sigh, knowing what's about to go down. "hi oikawa, i missed you too.." you whisper so only you can hear it. and before you can process the entire inarizaki volleyball team (and seijoh) is surrounding the two of you.

suna could careless about who you dated, if you were happy he didn't mind it. but this was something that was both surprising and funny, so of course he had to record it.

it was confusing to the team because up until now they were under the impression you were dating atsumu.

"wait wait wait what does he mean by he missed you? are you two friends?" osamu was curious, he knew you weren't dating his brother but he thought you liked him.

oikawa dramatically turned towards you "you haven't told them?"

"ladies, ladies there's enough of me to go around" which only brought you deadpan looks from both the volleyball teams "ok sorry, my bad for being funny"

"wait what does he mean you haven't told us??"

"we've been dating for a year, the last thing we could be is friends-"

"you're dating him? I thought you were with atsumu?"

"atsumu? i thought you were dating suna?"

"why me? i didn't even do anything keep me out of this?"

"NO WHY WOULD I BE DATING EITHER OF THEM?"

"what's wrong with us?" suna and atsumu asked offended.

"shut up i've seen you eating sand and you ask me what's wrong with the two of you?"

"y/n chan, what's going on?" kunimi asks curiously. the seijoh's team just stood there watching you, oikawa and the inarizaki members going back and forth.

"all of you shut up, we didn't even let y/n explain properly"

"oh my god thank you kita-"

"you don't like the twins?"

"KITA?! no oh lord i don't, i've been dating toruu for the past year, i never did and never will like any of these hooligans, no offense"

"HEY! that's rude-" before atsumu could whiney any further osamu smacked him in the back of his head, which shut him up immediately.

"what about the rumors of a girl making out with atsumu? that wasn't you?" suna finally asked, genuinely wanting to know more.

"Y/N-CHAN YOU MADE OUT WITH PISS HAIR? WHAT?"

"no oh my god toruu I didn't-"

"oh, that wasn't her that was just a junior i dated."

"yeah that wasn't me wait ew juniors? really atsumu?"

"she was cute! don't shift this on me"

"but guys seriously i never had have or will like anyone from the volleyball team. i'm sorry i hid it from you guys, but i was just scared of what you guys would think"

"are you happy? does he keep you happy?" aran asked borderline choking atsumu.

the question caught you off guard but instantly a small smile replaced the shock on your face "yes, he does, he's stupid but he really does make me happy"

"then that's all that matters"

"aww thank you-"

"nuh uh, i don't approve, what if he's a playboy?" atsumu disapprovingly shook his head praying aran's hands off him.

"oh god no one wants to hear that from you" suna shut atsumu up.

atsumu quietly huffed a "rude"

"well now that that's sorted, we should probably get back to warming up"

"yes thank you kindaichi, finally a normal person"

"y/n?" aran called out to you.

"yes?"

"just because your boyfriend's in that team doesn't mean we'll go easy on them, we'll just be rougher with them"

"if it makes you win, be my guest."

this was a bit awkward to write and I'm not proudest of this either but we'll js roll with it

@daisy-room here you go mam hope I did your idea justice divider credits to @/v6que

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mc-lukanette · 5 months ago

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"I'm the least-witch witch ever," Marinette groaned, burying her head in her arms on the table. A book titled History of Witch Fashion, thick but shockingly lacking in substance, laid open in front of her, turned all the way to the last page.

She understood it to some degree. Witches of the past had little need to change the way they looked due to their circumstances, as they tended to live far out in the woods where no one would see them anyway. It was a "waste" to worry about updating their look, and wearing all black tended to make camouflaging spells go more smoothly if they needed to go anywhere potentially dangerous at night.

Even in the modern day, there remained reasons to stick to tradition, such as to ensure that people knew what they were. Anyone who looked like a "genuine witch" was someone people could trust for potions or spells once magic became more socially acceptable.

But Marinette's problem was simple: she hated it. She couldn't pull off the all black look and found the generic pointy witch hats to, quite bluntly, look like traffic cones that just came back from a funeral.

"I don't even have a black cat!" she cried out in distress.

"Mrrah?"

She pushed herself up, turning to the white short-haired cat sitting nearby. "It's not your fault, Clawton! You're perfect just the way you are!"

The cat puffed out its chest with pride, a tiny gentlecat without a tuxedo.

Marinette smiled, feeling a little cheered up by it, but faltered when she looked at the book again. Centuries of witch fashion laid before her, yet there were only tiny, insignificant changes made over time. Even seasonal changes recommended temperature-related spells to show off instead of dressing for the weather like a normal person.

"It's fine!" she told herself, hitting the table with both hands. A surge of magic caused the book to float upwards, and Marinette ordered it into the garbage, deciding, "I'll just... have to take the witch fashion world by storm, all by myself!"

Clawton let out a concerned mew, but didn't protest.

—————

Step one of Marinette's lack of a plan was finding inspiration, and there were few better ways of doing that than walking around the town and taking in the sights. Clawton walked next to her, tiny pawsteps sounding beside her own footsteps as she scribbled anything that gave even remotely "witch-y" vibes. It was like making a mood board.

Nothing solid was forming in her head thus far, but it was better than nothing. While it wasn't likely to happen, she did hope for that special spark, that magical thing that'd make her go—

"Mrreow!"

Marinette stopped, surprised to hear her cat speak up when it was usually so quiet in public. Looking down, she called out worriedly, "Clawton?"

It didn't even glance at her, taking off like a shot down the street. She gasped, shocked but reacting quickly enough to chase after it.

"Hey, come back! Where are you going?"

She only hoped that her mood as of late hadn't been affecting it. Cats were sensitive to magical and emotional fluctuations in witches, making them solid pets but ones that could also take on or share a witch's stress if they chose to.

If that did end up being the case, she probably owed it a few treats.

Clawton turned on a dime to dart around a corner, Marinette not far behind. She heard someone yelp and fall over just as she turned that same corner, though slightly clumsier than her cat had been.

Sitting on the ground was a teenage boy, probably around her age, though she focused on little else when she saw Clawton purring in his lap. Horrified, she hurried to the two, plucking her cat from him and settling it in her arms.

She rambled off, "I'm so sorry! It's not usually like that, but now it knocked you over and—did it rip your clothes?! I swear I'll sew them up—I'll make it better even, I—!"

"They didn't scratch me."

Marinette paused mid-sentence, somehow managing to hear his soft voice over her panicking, and blinked at him. Taking in what she had assumed were "cat scratches," she realized that they were actually purposeful rips in the clothes. Even the knees of his pants had similar ones when she actually looked, and they more obviously weren't caused by a cat.

As the boy stood back up, entirely calm despite what had happened, Clawton hopped down from her arms to do figure eights around his legs. Marinette was still busy taking in his fashion, eyes scanning him up and down to fully capture it.

His pants and shoes were notably black, but not too much even with his black hair. He kept it interesting with the white and shades of blue he wore on his upper body, in addition to the blue highlights in his hair that were either natural or dyed. The rips she'd mistaken for cat scratches did still give off the same energy in a way, and if they were in another place, then maybe—

Marinette's eyes widened. Without another thought, she stepped forward, taking the boy's hands and clasping them together in her own. Looking him right in the eyes, she asked spontaneously, "Will you be my muse?!"

He blinked.

—————

The embarrassment took a few seconds to strike, after which came a slew of apologies and a promise to make up for the onslaught from both her and her cat. He insisted it was fine, but she insisted right back.

They eventually ended up sitting on a bench together at a public flower garden, complete with iced tea that Marinette had bought for them. Apparently, the boy often went there himself for his own inspiration - just as a musician rather than a fashion designer - so he smelled strongly of flowers that her cat adored, which explained why it had jumped him.

While Clawton rolled around and stretched amongst some thyme, the boy took a sip of his iced tea and wondered aloud, "So, changing witch fashion all on your own, huh?"

She whined, wishing she could hide behind her own cup. "I know. It sounds insane."

"No, I like the sound of that." He turned to her with a gentle smile. "I'm Luka, by the way."

She shot him a skeptical look. "Marinette. Are we exchanging names because you want a restraining order?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're fine. Honestly, I want to help you if I can."

"Really?" She paused. "Clawton didn't hit your head, did he? I know I said when we were getting drinks that you'd get benefits if this took off, but..."

He leaned back against the bench and swung an arm over the top of it, shrugging with the arm holding his cup. "I think if anyone can do it, it's you. You have incredible energy, Marinette." He grinned. "Enough to ask a stranger to be your muse."

He somehow felt positive enough about the experience to joke about it. Marinette knew then that either she had overreacted, she had struck diamond in finding this boy, or both. Either way, giving him up would be the most foolish thing she could do.

It helped that he, now that she was truly looking at him and not just his clothes, was exactly her type. He dressed in a style that was clearly his own and carried himself as such, confident and comfortable in the clothes he wore without coming off arrogant. Better yet was that he still had cat fur on his pants from when Clawton had rubbed itself on him, yet he seemed totally unbothered.

Gods and goddesses above, he was perfect.

Of course, if he was going to be her muse for such an important task, then it would have to be strictly professional, so she tried not to think about it too hard. She'd been told before that she could be a bit much, so she would have to be all business about this.

"Can I add a condition?" Luka asked suddenly.

"Huh? Yeah—er, yes." She tried to say it formally, straightening her back in perfect posture even if the colorful cup of iced tea kind of ruined it. "What is it?"

The corner of his lips twitched into a brief smirk at the action, but he carried on, "Can you be my muse too?"

"Ah?" Her shoulders slumped, already ruining the poise she'd been trying to maintain. "Me? You mean Clawton?"

"You," he insisted. "I like your cat too, but I think you're interesting, Marinette. If we're going to get to know each other, shouldn't we do it the best way creative people like us do?"

The logic was hard to argue with, especially with the slew of emotions he'd just caused her: bafflement that he'd want her of all people as a muse, shyness at the look he'd given her when he'd said it, and all of that preceding sheer joy.

"S-so you'll really do it then?" she realized, bouncing up out of her seat and facing him. "You'll be my muse?!"

He nodded, reaching a hand up to her for a handshake. "We've got a deal."

"Yes! I could just kiss you!" she blurted out. A second later, she caught herself and quickly corrected, "Ah, not really—not now—unless you—ah, thanks!"

She put her own hand out to complete the handshake, the two positively beaming, and thus began the relationship between the two teenage business partners that just happened to be each other's muse.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #Witch Marinette Dupain Cheng

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harunovella · 1 year ago

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse iii); s.g.

synopsis: a first date with gojo satoru? maybe... or maybe not... content: canon divergence (still teen!gojo era!), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo has given you a nickname (and I will now claim reader and gojo as "gojo and his mochi"), unimpressed nanami, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! I'm having sm fun writing these lil things for myself and you all! also... should I start a tag list? lmk in the replies!

"Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, and," Yaga Masamichi introduced before gesturing in your direction, speaking your name. "You may know the first two already but we've got another sorcerer to the school roster." Continuing his speech towards his three students that sat before him, Suguru and Shoko listened closely, eyeing a brooding Kento and a smiley Yu... while Satoru gazed at you with the biggest heart eyes. He didn't seem to care if he was obvious, after his first interaction with you ever (possibly the best moment of his life), he made it his goal to see you at least once a day. If you were away on missions, or busy during a lecture, he'd find a way to see you... even if it was from afar. "I want you three to mentor them from now on. Each of you teaming up with one of them and spending at least an hour a day to help them boost up their technique—"

"I'll be partnered up with mochi!" Gojo exclaimed, interrupting his teacher with a hand in the air.

"What's the point of raising your hand if you're gonna interrupt anyway?" Geto teased, earning a look from his best friend as he stuck out his tongue.

"Who... is mochi?" Yaga asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, never quite getting used to his white haired student.

Pointing at you and speaking your name, you stood there with wide eyes and a blush. You weren't new to Gojo's behavior, after you first met him (helping you rescue your now kitten off a tree), you had plenty of... interesting interactions. At first, it was a lot to take in, seeing as he was very eccentric and grew really comfortable with you so easily, but after some time, you grew comfortable with it. With him. However, him calling you one of his favorite treats was a first. "She's cute like a mochi—"

"Oh, god..." Shoko shook her head as Suguru raised his eyebrows.

"That's a first," Yu spoke up, covering his mouth as he couldn't help but chuckle.

"No," the shared teacher spoke. "You will not be paired with her—"

"What! Why not?! We're best friends!" Satoru whined as you looked away with a subtle blush.

"Psht, that's harsh, am I now forgotten?" Suguru crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "What if I want to team up with mochi?" The young man smirked, earning a scowl from his best friend.

"Never call her that again," Gojo hissed, earning a laugh from Geto.

"Enough, you two, she will be partnered up with Shoko. Knowing you two, you'd end up getting her hurt somehow," earning a gasp from the two boys, you couldn't help but smile, biting your bottom lip at the way they reacted. "I trust Nanami and Haibara will be fine in either of your care."

"Ugh," Gojo groaned.

"I suppose that's fair," Geto shrugged, earning a shove from Gojo in which he shoved back. "Who are we teamed up with, then?"

"Geto, you'll be paired up with Haibara," hearing a faint cheer come from Yu, Kento only sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Which means Gojo, you'll be paired up with Nanami."

"Well, if I can't have my mochi, I guess Nanamin is fine!" Gojo crossed his arms behind his head. "No offense, Haibara! Nanamin is just great company to tease," he grinned, earning an eye roll from the young, blond man.

"Perfect, today will be your first day. Report back here in an hour. Get to know one another's abilities better." At that, Yaga dismissed the class, Shoko rushing up to you and interlocking arms as she pulled you out with her. You couldn't help but look back at Satoru, seeing his grin towards Kento turn into a frown as he looked at you. Sending him a small smile and wave, he waved back, happy that he at least got your attention for the time being.

Weeks then passed after Yaga paired everyone off, though it didn't change how things went—specifically missions—Gojo found another reason to see you. At least, another way to see you. Shoko's RCT required her to be in specific places, so he was well aware of where to find you when he wasn't with his own classmates. Nanami, on the occasion, was dragged along. Forced to watch his senior poorly flirt with you when you (shockingly) didn't seem too bothered by it. Instead, it made you flustered. You seemed to have enjoyed Satoru's attention. Of course, it never lasted long with Ieiri kicking both boys out (or just Gojo if he was the only one there) because she was busy being a good mentor and teaching you.

"I'm bored," Satoru whined as he sat on a bench, eyeing Kento as he trained on the open field. "This pairing up thing isn't all that fun."

"That's because you're not doing your job as my senior," Nanami spoke with a lack of enthusiasm.

"What's there to teach you? You're good as it is," he waved a hand as he sipped at his milk box. "I just wanna see my mochi..."

Sighing, Nanami shook his head before lifting it from his palm as he massaged his temples. A faint smile grew on his lips at the sight of you approaching, it seemed as if Shoko had lead the way before parting to go on her own route. You waved happily as he waved back, only to look at his senior to see that he hadn't noticed you. Grinning, Nanami quietly made his way towards you, his fellow classmate. To anyones shock, the two of you actually grew close. You saw one another like siblings, getting along quite well and actually maintaining interesting conversations. No one would've figured, he was a quiet boy and only really spoke when spoken to, but you brought something out of him. You always found something to speak about. Maybe it was your shared love for baked goods, or the possibility that you weren't annoying like most of the people around him. You were timid, but you were also very kind and social with those you were comfortable with. "How'd it go today?"

"Good, Shoko is very skilled, it's a shame we don't focus much on her technique. RCT is very important, no one does it like her." Smiling up at him as the two of you bumped fists, you then peeked over to Satoru, who was now lying on the bench, completely unaware of your presence. "Is he okay?"

"Being lazy as always," Nanami shrugged, but you slightly frowned. "Don't worry about it."

"What are you two babbling about?!" Gojo called out, not realizing who he had been yelling at.

"I'll catch you later..." the blond said before patting your head, then walking away.

"Hey, I asked you a—" Sitting up and realizing who he had been yelling at, Gojo's eyes widened as he gulped. "Mochi!"

"Hi, Satoru," you greeted with a kind smile, causing him to blush. "Long day?"

Instantly standing up, nearly tripping over his own feet, he shook his head. "No! I was just... taking a break! Y'know... training others can be so tiring," he frowned while slumping forward as you let out a small laugh. "Especially someone as skilled as Nanamin!"

"Right," You nodded. "I hadn't seen you all day. I was thinking..."

Blinking a few times as he watched you approach, Gojo gulped, "yeah?"

"We should get an early dinner—"

"Now?" His eyes widen as he stood straight, earning another laugh from you.

"Mhm, or later, whatever you prefer—"

"Now! Now is good," He nodded, meeting you halfway before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I know the perfect place! Plus, right next door, they sell some delicious mochi..." He grinned as you smiled up at him.

"Is this our first date?" Gojo teased as you sat on a bench, sharing a box of mochi. The dinner was as great as he had promised, a cute little restaurant that Gojo frequented. Satoru tried his best to impress you with his cooking skills, only to burn half of what he ordered. You couldn't help but laugh it off, deciding to cook the rest—in which he praised your skills (and promised to improve his own for the next time). For someone trying to do some impressing, he's constantly teetering between being shy and letting his confidence kick in (even if it was false, trying to win you over).

"Hmm, I was the one who asked to go to dinner," you said, biting into your mochi. "Shouldn't I decide that?"

"Wait!" Gojo lifted his hands, pulling the box of mochi away as you tilted your head. "I took us here to get our dessert," he nudged his head back, towards the stand.

"So..." you trailed.

"So... this could be our first date!" He beamed, earning a look from you as you playfully lifted an eyebrow.

"Maybe."

#harunovella writes;#gojo and his mochi series #gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo au #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

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deadrobinthoughts · 11 days ago

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† just like a tag : tim.

⋆˙⟡ “life feels so monotone, but I still keep hoping”

⋆˙⟡ request: just.. v1 tim. this is not is fic format. ↦ kalico note: sorry in advance. ↦ tagging: @fandomfrenzyacc

some people say loneliness is loud. that it presses in with sound and weight and absence all at once.

for me, it's... quieter. more like static in the background; something i don't notice until everything else has stopped. until the case is closed, until patrol is over. something i forget is even there until i stop moving. until i'm alone again, like always, wondering if the silence is something i've earned.

i’m good at cutting people out. not because i don’t want them. but because i’ve seen what happens when i let them stay. they fray at the edges. get pulled into my orbit and unravel. it's cleaner. it's quicker.

better to pull away before the seems rip on their own. before i say too much. before i'm too much- not enough. before they get close enough to see the places i haven't been able to patch up.

so i make it quick. clean. surgical. like cutting the tag off a new hoodie. necessary. inevitable. i've done it so many times now that it's automatic. a little painful, but better than the itch. that's just what you do, right? no loose threads, no scratching. nothing to catch on something soft.

no jagged edges.

i say the right things. smile the right way. file the distance under strategy. if they don’t know the real me, they can’t miss me.

i've let people go who loved me. friends. family. romance. because i didn't know how not to hurt them. how to keep them. because sometimes love feels like something i have to survive, not something i get to seep into. to rest in.

if i don’t reach out, i don’t get let down. sometimes i tell myself i prefer it like this. just me, the case, the mission. order. logic. purpose.

i smile. i lie. i manipulate. and when someone tries to break through? i slam the door before they can ever breathe the words; 'are you okay?'

because i'm fine.

because i'm not ready.

but the nights are long. and it’s always the quiet hours; after the city stills and the mask comes off - is when i feel it.

that dull little pulse under my ribs. the hope i never quite manage to kill. that maybe, someday, someone will see me. someone might reach out. might reach for me. not red robin. not my family name. not the mask. not the prodigy.

me.

maybe i'll get to be known. maybe i'll be safe. maybe i won't have to sit alone forever.

there's a flicker still in me, buried under tactical thinking and bruises. something that, somehow, hasn't gone out. even though i've tried countless times to snuff it. it's not bright hope. it's not burning, it's not cheering. it's a whisper. a sigh. a secret. an.. ache.

that maybe.. they’ll stay. not because they have to. not because i’m useful. but because they want to.

until then... i keep moving. keep hoping. keep cutting, pulling, avoiding.

keep silence as my closest companion.

#dc comics #dc scenarios #batfam #batfam x reader #batboys #batboys x reader #tim drake #tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #90s tim drake #v1 tim drake #red robin drabbles #red robin scenarios #red robin x reader

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acozysoulwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Spider monkey | Sun Wukong x reader

Requested by @kaycode1999 : Could you do one where the reader and Monkey King somehow end up doing the spider-man kiss?

a/n - I loved this idea so fuckin much…

"Just a little bit further" Monkey had said over three hours ago.

You were accompanying him on his journey to defeat one of the most powerful demons in the land. Monkey really didn't want his only… companion (other than stick) getting hurt or worse... killed. However, you were insufferably stubborn.

"Monkeyyy, how much longer" You groan, your feet were aching so badly that you thought you might fall over right here on the path.

The tree leaves rustle and you glance to your left. A quick, red blur passes through a gap in the treeline and you roll your eyes.

"Just a feeew more miles" Monkey calls.

He was lucky that he could swing through the trees, honestly, any other form of travel would be better than walking right about now.

You groan and force yourself to take another step.

"Hey... cheer up, wanna play a game?" Monkey lands next to you with a sly grin plastered on his face.

You aren't sure if you should say yes, but a distraction would do wonders at this point.

"Anything to make this awful hike move faster," You say.

"Great! I'll hide, you seek, but keep walking okay? We don't have all day you know"

Your lips part to speak, but before you get even a mumble out, Monkey has disappeared into the trees with a sneer.

Some time passes as you walk along the path and you haven't heard from Monkey in a while. Only the faint sound of him swinging through the trees could be heard.

Suddenly you hear a loud thud from behind and spin around, ready for a fight. When you don't see anyone, your eyes drop to the ground. Laying there in the dirt is a twig. You spin around and nearly scream.

"Hey," Monkey says, his voice sultry, a smug grin on his upside-down face.

Monkey hangs from a tree, his tail snuggly wrapped around a thick branch that overreaches the road. "Found ya" He coos, reaching out to boop you on the nose.

Your faces are just inches apart, and you can't deny the heat rising in your chest. The two of you had never been this close. His temperature was rising as well, you felt it radiating off him.

You roll your eyes. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Giving myself away, duh. I'm way too good at this whole hide-and-seek thing. You'd never have found me" He boasts, yammering on and on. However, your mind was only on one thing.

You slowly lean in, all the while Monkey still goes on about his perfect hiding skills.

"I mean, c'mon... At least pretend like you know where I am- mmm" His eyes go wide as his words come to a satisfying halt.

Monkey doesnt pull away, instead, he leans into the kiss, his tail losing grip slightly as his body fills with sensations. The hair on his neck stands up slightly as you pull him closer.

"W-What was that for?" He mumbles when you pull away.

"Oh, well you wouldn't shut up, I had to think of something" You tease, this time booping his nose, you smile sweetly as you walk past him.

"What- I-" Monkey hangs there, mouth agape. His heart is beating so fast and he isn't sure if it's because of the stunt you just pulled or if there was too much blood rushing to his head.

He hops down from the tree, his shock still visible. "Hey! You can't just walk away after that, Pebble" He calls, running to catch up with you.

“Try me spider monkey!”

#sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #monkey king #monkey king netflix #monkey king x reader #monkey king 2023 #spider man kiss #fluff #first kiss #headcanon #drabble #imagine

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fluffyfeatherfun · 3 months ago

Text

A New Form of Punishment (A TK Dandy's World Fic)

(thats right, I actually pciked up my ass to make this, enjoy, I suppose

Requested by: @randomratty akak Trinty!

Lee:Dandy

Ler:Vee

Starring:Goob and Looey

Word Count:1,455

Warning:This is a tickle fic. If you think it's a k!nk/not comfy with it, this isnt for you.

I guess there is also machine tickles(not because of Vee, I meant using machines to tickle) Don't worry no restraints are used.

((brackets like these are creator's notes in the fic))

((Ps sorry if this is kinda bad it's my first time doing it

--------------------------------------------------

Another day, another gameshow, Vee thoguht to herself. Except this on is a bit more special. During her free time, she actually planned a tickle themed gameshow, but it was scrapped ((not to be mistaken with Scraps)) because she is genuinely to embarrassed to be the host of something silly like this. Fortunately, she managed to improvise one of those ideas on to her regular one,and today is the first time it's put into play.

Vee's POV(yes I'm adding one)

Questions go by, the contestants of the day, Dandy, Looey and Goob all take turns to answer them. The fluffy craft is suprisingly good, hopefully he dosen't win his sister won too many times, the circus balloon is okayish, he has one or two strikes but that's fine, and Dandy is on a roll with his strikes, just like every single gameshow. Words can't express how much I wish he just join Brightney's book club before coming here rather than focus so much on those tapes, but I'm a host, and I have a job, so whatever.

"Question number 13, when did the episode 'Winning Big' aired on TV?"

I heard the buzzer immediately go off, as that flower screamed out his answer in confidence.

"19th of November, 1998!"

I look at the answer sheet on my hand. Wrong, wrong again, what was I evrn expecting? I'll give him credit for at least getting the 19th correct ((idk what its called)).

"Sorry, but wrong again"

I annonce, as the loud buzzer goes off and the big red X displays on the screen.

"Wh-what? That's impossible! I swear that was the date last time I check the promotional poster for that episode!"

He defends. If only I could face palm right now, RIGHT NOW.

"Really? Are you serious right now? You got the date of an episode you played in wrong?"

It took me a few seconds and a few deep breaths to get myself together and remember why I felt excited to see Dandy get that wrong. The device, I almost forgot. With that smugly expression, I hold my mic tail, face the crowd and start talking

"Now, unfortunately, that was Dandy's last strike, so that means it's time for his punishment. Fortunately, I've install a new kind rather than the boring old 'splattered by slime' one. Any guesses what is it?"

There were many voices giving their answers. Some answer getting blasted away, a few said wearing some embarrassing clothing outside, one even said getting whacked by a plank 10 times. If they were the contestants, they would earn all five strikes instantly.

Somehow, Goob thoguht that it was a wuestion, as his buzzer went off and he gave an 'answer'

"Getting hug for hours on end?"

I didn't even say anuthing, I just look at his froggt face akwardly with a face of disbelief.

*ahem*

"Perhpas your eyes could feast on it instead. Can we start up the machine on Dandy's platform?"

The contestants start looking a little nervous, especislly Dandy, who I suppose dosen't know what's coming. Just wait until the thing comes to action........

3rd POV

The celling above the rainbow dandelion opens up, revealing multiple feathers and brushes attached by metal roads((IDK WHAT THOSE THIGNS ARE CALLED)). It seems like he immediately knew what was going on, as he trembles in fear and akwardly laughs.

"Haha, your joking, right? You got me and my soul, oh you acared me, just bring out the slime already!"

Vee sstood at a cocky stance, before responding:

"You heard me loud and clear, Mr. Striker Streak. Let's all cheer for him, maybe he needs a confidence boost!"

The silent crowd suddenly roar louder and louder, clapping their hands as the machine got closer. Realize the reality of the situation, Dandy desperately tries to open the door behind his stall. Even the contestants werr rooting for him.

"Pucker up, Dandy! You're in for a time of laugther and fun!"

"You can do it! I hope."

Alas, none of his efforts pay off, as his poor body was suddenly attack almost everywhere:by the sides, his underarms, his hips, arms and knees. He duck down for cover from the crowd from his dilemma , as his squeaky laugther echo around the room.

"EHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHE, THIHIHHIHIS IHIHIHIHIHIS EHHEHEHEHVEHEHEN WHOHOHOHORSE THAHAHAHAHAHAN THEHEHEHEHEHE- HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE."

While the poor toon was trying to fight the tools off, the gameshos host couldn't resist to make a little remark that will be stuck in his hrad for 2 months.

"Well wpuld you look at that, the star of the show tumbling doen the sky just from some little pokes. Now isn't that ironic?"

The two little feathers that were unarm attack Dandy's fiddly feet, pushing his voice to it's maximum volume for the entire crowd to listen. To them, it was quite the sight and music to their ears, but to him, it was thw worst form of punishment he can ever tgink off.

"GHEHEHEHHEHEYHEHES, GHEHEHEHEHEHEHET MHEHEHEHEHEHEHE OHOHOHOHOHOHT OHOHOHOHOHOF THIHIHIHHIHI HEHRHEHEHEHEHE."

His face grew bright red as hrle bangs on the floor, lying flat on the ground for cover on some of his vunerable spot, like his stomatch.

"Oh right, did I mention that this punishment last for 3 minutes? Well, I forgot to start the timer earlier, silly me! Guess that'll teach you a lesson to maybe read some books before joining here. Seriously , you've been on a roll with those strikes!"

The speech is barely heard from his side, but when his mind put two to two together, he his heart stop for a moment. He yells, trying to convince Vee to not go so hard on him.

"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT VHEHEHEHEHEHEHE, DHOHOHOHOHONT YHOHOHOHOHOHOU THIHIHIHIHINK THAHAHAHAHAHATS AHAHA LIHIHIHHIHITTHIHE HAHAHAHARSH FHOHOHOHOR AHAHAHA NHEHEHEHEW PHUHUHUHUNHIHIHIHSMHEHEHENT? CHHEHEHET MHEHEHEHEHE SHOHOHOHOHOHME SLHAHAHAHAAHCK."

She had to hold her mouth to hold in her laugther, and when the audience notice what's going on, so did they. The fluffy craft stood there a bit confused((as usual/silly)) while the balloon bnnuy just keep cheering for Dandy.

"Come on Dandy, 3 minutes isn't that long, just think about how long my shows last, then you'll be out of the feathers in no time!"

"Alrighr alright, you can lift the machine up now."

The green television spoke out of the blue, as the tickling tools float back to where they came from, follow by a Dandy who shakily lift himself up, his face hot red and his voice still having hints of laugther.

"Silly flower, I didn't start the timer at all!"

Everyone in the room laughs, clapping for the star of the show for tanking this punishment like a truck ((do not question my choice of wording)). His face was full of embarrassment, as he pretends to laugh along.

With that out of the way, Vee taps her microphone tail and spoke over all of the voices.

"Now, let's get back into the game, shall we? And contestant Looey, I would like to remind you that you are 2 strikes away from punishment. Think wisely before you speak.

His face change from a cheery one to that of a derealization, as he nervously stares at his strike counter and chuckles hesitantly.

"Haha, okay, I'll be careful. Whatever you say."

Time passes, and the points were all talied up.

"And the winner of today's show is the beloved toon......... Goob!"

Confetti explodes, a beam of light shines below the winner and cheers were heard, congratulating him. Goob stares a bit dumbfounded, but he too got two to two together and shouts it out loud in happiness.

"YAY! My sister is going to be so proud!"

The host sighs, another show, another craft winning. She wish that Brightney join just for a change. Maybe next time. But for now....

"Ohhh, so close! I really shouldn't have press the button so fastt...."

Looey exclaimed, pitfully looking down at his strike mark(which he is 1 away from punishment) with his ears flopping down.

"Haha, Welp, I lost, again. Oh well, better luck next time, they say."

Dandy laugh, as he tried to pick himself up from the 2nd round of Punishment.

"Yeah right, keep talking and maybe ask Astro to give you a dream for that."

Vee commented, before diverting her attention to the crowd with a big smile

"Well, that's all for today's gameshow, say it with me!"

Everyone said in unison

"See you next time on Vee's gameshow!"

And with that, she jumps off the stage and hurridly left from the back door. She is waiting to talk to someone.....

"Oh, your done already?"

--------------------------------------------------

Thank you all for reading till the end. Again, sorry if this story isn't thay good, but I still did my best and heart into this! Thank you all for teading!

#fluffy feather posts #fluffy feather writes #dandys world tickles #not tagging other charecters for safety purposes

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lavender-vixen · 3 months ago

Note

pregnancy scare with Patrick? The reader takes a pregnancy test, but it’s negative. Thank you bestie 🥹💕

this one isn't as happy-fluffy...

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The pregnancy test felt like a lead weight in your backpack as you walked into the Center Street Drug Store after school. The fluorescent lights overhead made you feel exposed, like everyone could see right through you. You'd grabbed the test quickly, trying not to look at it too long, as if your guilt might somehow transfer onto the box. You grabbed a couple of other random items in a poor attempt to hide the purchase: a magazine, a bag of cotton balls, a bottle of shampoo, mints, and a pack of cigarettes.

When you got to the counter, Greta Keene was chewing gum, her nails painted a neon green. Greta’s eyes lit up when she saw the box, and she didn’t even bother hiding her smirk.

“Who’s is it?” she asked teasingly, leaning forward like you were in on some big secret together.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you slid some crumpled bills across the counter and avoided Greta’s gaze. The bell above the door jingled as you left, Greta’s soft laughter trailing behind you.

It was late in the evening before you got up the guts to take the test. Patrick’s house looked surprisingly normal. White siding, a trimmed lawn, nothing that screamed Patrick Hockstetter lives here. His parents’ cars were in the driveway, which made you uneasy. He’d never invited you over when anyone was home before.

When he opened the door, he was wearing that cocky half-smile you hated as much as you liked. His hair was a mess, and he looked like he’d just driven with all the windows down.

“What’s up?” he asked, stepping aside to let you in.

"Your folks home?"

Patrick looked over his shoulder into the house and then back to you. "My dad's out of town this week. My mom's on her third glass of red."

You hesitated, pulling the test out of your purse like it might bite you. “I need to take this.”

Patrick stared at it, then at you. “You’re kidding. You can't do that at your house?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding? My mother will kill me if she finds it.”

His face twitched, like he wanted to say something, but for once, he didn’t. “Fine. My bathroom’s up the stairs, down the hall.”

You locked the door behind you, your hands shaking as you ripped open the box. The instructions were overly cheerful, written in some bubbly font that made you want to scream. After peeing on it, you set the test on the edge of the sink and walked back into Patrick’s room to wait.

He was pacing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “How the hell long does this take?”

“Three minutes,” you muttered, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Three minutes? Feels like a goddamn eternity.”

You didn’t say anything. The silence between you felt heavy, like the walls were closing in.

Patrick stopped pacing and leaned against his desk, his arms crossed. “Do you wanna, like, talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“What you're gonna do if it’s… you know.”

You looked away, your voice barely above a whisper. “Patrick, I’m only a junior. I can barely pass biology.”

“I know,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“And you said you’re getting the hell out of Derry as soon as you graduate."

“I know,” he repeated, louder this time, his jaw tightening.

"You know? Great, Patrick. That's super helpful. Glad we're on the same page."

His lips curled. "What do you want me to say, huh? That I'll stick around? That I'll play house with you? Be a dad? Jesus Christ."

"God, Patrick, I'm not asking for a damn proposal!" Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it. "But maybe a little support? You're not in this alone, you know."

"Oh, I know I'm not. Pretty sure you're the one late for your period, not me."

You stared at him, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Are you serious right now? You're acting like this has nothing to do with you."

"I didn't say that," he shot back, his tone cold and clipped.

"You might as well have!" you snapped. "I didn't fuck myself, Patrick! I didn't get myself pregnant!"

"Keep your voice down, my mom's downstairs!"

"She should hear me!"

He stood up straight, stepping closer, towering over you with that dangerous energy radiating off him. "Don't pin this on me like I took advantage of you."

Your laugh was humorless, bitter. "Oh, I'm sorry, sneaking around and screwing me in your car until you get bored and leave is what every girl dreams of."

Patrick's jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing. "You're the one who wanted to keep this casual. Remember that? No one can know little miss perfect got her cherry popped in the backseat of a fuckin' Chevy. Especially not by me."

You stared at him, your mouth agape, rage bubbling beneath your skin. "Really? That's where you're going with this? You think you're the victim just because I didn't want to get called a slut at school?"

"You're acting like I tricked you into this, like you didn't crawl into my lap every chance you got," he shot back.

Your laugh was sharp, venomous. "And you didn't have your hand up my skirt every chance you got."

His eyes darkened. "Don't pretend you didn't like it," he sneered. "You wanted it just as much as I did. Maybe more. Just to piss off your rich parents."

"Oh, screw you," you snapped, shoving him back a step. "You're such a jerk. The second something doesn't go your way, you turn into a complete asshole."

"And what are you?" He gestured wildly, his voice dripping with mockery. "You've got it all figured out, don't you? Except now you're in my house, using my bathroom, waving around a test like it's my fault."

"Because it is your fault!" you shouted. "It's not like I'm doing it with half the senior guys in their cars!"

"Yeah, and I didn't exactly force you into my car either. On any of those times," he snarled.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides. "You're unbelievable. You don't even care, do you? This is just some inconvenient blip on your radar."

"Care?" He barked out a laugh. "What the hell do you want me to do? Shit, do you want me to propose?"

"Shit, do you want me to propose..." you echoed dryly, nodding to yourself, tears stinging your eyes. "You're such a piece of shit. Why did I even tell you? It's not like you're my boyfriend."

He flinched at that, but it only seemed to make him angrier. "No. I'm not."

"I'll have to drop out of school, and I'll have to—"

"Drop out?" he interrupted. "Don't be so fucking dramatic. It's not like anyone's forcing you to keep it."

The words hit you like a slap. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. "Wow," you finally said, your voice low and trembling.

Before you could respond further, the time on his nightstand clock blared, the shrill sound making you jolt. Both of you froze.

"Well?" he asked, his voice sharper now.

You didn't answer, your chest tight as you turned and walked into the adjacent bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

When you came out a minute late, the test in hand, Patrick was sitting on the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He looked up when you stopped in the doorway.

"For fuck's sake, what does it say?" He asked.

"It's negative," you said quietly, the relief in your voice muted by exhaustion.

For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then he leaned back onto his bed, letting out a low, humorless laugh.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable.

"Guess we dodged a bullet," he said finally.

"I dodged a bullet," you corrected him tiredly.

He offered a half-smirk. "Right."

You grabbed your purse, your movements stiff and mechanical. As you reached the bedroom door, he called out, "Hey."

You paused, glancing over your shoulder, wiping your eyes. "Whatever it is, forget it."

He stood, crossing the room in two long strides until he was standing in front of you. His height, his presence, was overwhelming, as always. "Don't start again," he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. "We're fine. It's over."

"It's not fine, Patrick," you snapped, your voice trembling. "I'm still stuck in the same situation, pretending like none of this matters to me, while you..."

"I'm sorry, okay?" For a moment, you saw something raw flicker across his face. Regret? Whatever it was, it knocked the air out of your lungs.

You blinked. "You're sorry?"

“Yeah.” He reached out, brushing his fingers over your arm in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry I said all that shit. I didn’t mean it. I was just—” He shook his head, his gaze dropping for a moment before snapping back up to meet yours. “I was scared.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to say he didn’t get to play this card now, not after everything he’d just said. But then his hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “You know I didn’t mean it. You know I care about you. Don’t you? You're my girl.”

“Patrick…”

“Don’t.” His hand moved to cup your face, tilting your chin so you couldn’t look away. “I’m serious. I care about you, okay? I know I’m not good at saying it, but I do.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling as his lips brushed against your temple, your cheek, before settling just over yours.

“Please,” he whispered against your skin, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t stay mad at me.”

And just like that, you gave in. You always did.

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thelazyhermits · 7 months ago

Text

After reading the first TWST novel and seeing how Yuu/Grim's first meeting with Ace went there, I decided to write a drabble about how that encounter went with my Yuu, which I'll put underneath the cut.

Also, I've gone back and edited An Unlikely Team as well as Grim/Ace's chapters in An Unlikely Friendship, although there was only a minor edit in Grim's chapter as compared to Ace's chapter which got a whole different dialogue added in the final scene thanks to me getting inspired by the novel.

I hope y'all enjoy the new content! 😊💕

He’s definitely up to something.

That was the first thought that crossed your mind upon meeting Ace Trappola, a first-year student who introduced himself after approaching you and Grim while you both were studying the seven statues on Main Street that, for some reason, look exactly like popular Disney villains.

Grim, however, obviously felt differently since, ever since Ace showed up, he’s been amicably chatting with the redhead about the statues, all the while not looking the least bit suspicious of Ace.

Meanwhile, you’ve been working on cleaning the surrounding area, which is the job that had been assigned to both you and that procrastinating monster, because you really don’t want to risk getting in trouble with Crowley for not doing your job since said job is the reason you now have a free place to stay as well as a means to make money for food and everything else you'll need to survive in this strange, foreign world you've somehow found yourself in.

Plus, you had wanted to put some space between you and Ace since you don’t trust him and that fake smile of his, especially since he’s wearing the kind of fake smile that looks so genuine that only someone like you who’s grown up surrounded by adults, who use their professional fake smiles to take advantage of others for a living, would be able to see through his façade.

The whole time you’ve been cleaning, you’ve been surreptitiously scrutinizing Ace, trying to figure out what his hidden agenda is, all while simultaneously listening carefully to all the information he provides about the statues - information that matches well with what you know about the Disney villains they resemble.

Except for the fact that everything Ace says makes these villains sound like actual decent people who are worth revering rather than the scoundrels they were in the movies from your world.

Every time you hear Ace compliment the people the statues are based on, you have to fight the urge to scoff since so much of what he says is just so difficult for you to believe.

I can’t believe these villains’ stories got so twisted that they became people who are seriously revered in this world. You incredulously shake your head. Even worse, the Queen of Hearts’ story is pretty much the same as it was in Alice in Wonderland, meaning these people seriously didn’t mind a crazy queen who decapitates people as a regular form of punishment.

Just what kind of world have you found yourself in?

You wearily massage your temple. Hopefully, all that nonsense is just a part of this world’s history and not its present. Otherwise, I’ll need to steer clear of the part of the world where the Queen of Hearts reigned for the sake of my own well-being, although I can’t see myself leaving this school anytime soon, considering traveling requires money among many other things.

Obviously, I’ll need to do some more research on this subject. You muse. If I’m gonna survive in this crazy world, I need to learn as much about it as I can since knowledge is power.

Plus, you’re genuinely curious about this world’s “Great Seven” and want to see if there are any more commonalities between them and the movie villains from your world whom they so greatly resemble.

“Pretty cool, huh? Not like some piddling weasel.”

You’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when Ace’s previously friendly and cheerful voice suddenly becomes noticeably cold and malicious.

While Grim makes a surprised sound, you quickly focus your now narrowed gaze on the redhead. So he’s finally making his move. It’s about time. Now, I’ll finally find out what his deal is since I couldn’t get any clues from his earlier behavior when I was watching him.

“Pfft! Ah ha ha! I can't hold it back anymore!” Ace declares as he starts laughing, hard enough that he doubles over. “It’s too funny! I can’t breathe!”

For several seconds, his loud, wild laughter fills the air, and during this time, you give Ace an unimpressed look while Grim just stares at him with wide eyes, appearing stunned.

Once he eventually manages to compose himself, Ace wipes away the tears of mirth from his eyes. “Come on, you're the ones who turned orientation into a fiasco, right?”

“You two seriously stand out.” Ace sneers as he points at you. “A total normie, the perfect punchline to a disappointing joke. Every eye in the school focused on you last night, and you can’t even use a drop of magic.”

Completely unfazed by his mocking words, you maintain your unimpressed expression, which you can tell bothers him because his face briefly appears annoyed when you don’t give him the kind of reaction that you know he was hoping for.

Since he clearly won’t have any fun with you as his target, Ace quickly moves onto his next one and points at Grim. “And a monster who wasn’t even summoned by the Dark Mirror in the first place but crashed orientation anyway and got beaten to a pulp by my dorm leader.”

Wearing a cold smile, Ace gives both you and Grim a once-over before saying, “You’re perfect for each other.”

“W-What are ya-” Grim briefly stammers before scowling, “Ya don't gotta be a jerk! Comin' at us all of a sudden like this!”

“It’s not all of a sudden, dude.” Ace smirks, “The look on your face when they picked you up and tossed you out was hilarious! It took everything I had not to burst into laughter right in the middle of the ceremony!”

After giving you and the cleaning equipment that’s beside you a particularly withering look, Ace snickers, “So, in the end, neither of you got admitted, and now, you're janitors? SO lame!”

Upon realizing that Ace seriously is only here to taunt you and Grim, the tension in your frame eases as you roll your eyes. Really? That’s it? I was worried he might be someone secretly dangerous since his fake smile is so convincing, like the ones I always saw back in my world, but he’s really just an immature brat. I don’t know if I should be relieved or disappointed.

In direct contrast to you, who has calmed down now that you’ve realized Ace is no threat to you, Grim becomes increasingly more irritated. “Shaddup, you! I’m gonna be a student at this school in no time!”

“Nuh-uh! No way!” Ace shakes his head. “You're so clueless you don't even know who the Great Seven are. Not a one of them! Maybe before you try getting into the academy again, you ought to take a second crack at kindergarten?”

Unable to help yourself, you dryly retort, “Really? YOU’RE the one who’s saying someone should go back to kindergarten - the grade that so obviously suits you way better?”

Caught off guard since you’ve been silent pretty much the whole time he’s been here, Ace, along with Grim, turns to look at you in surprise.

Soon after, Ace’s surprise turns into annoyance. “And what’s THAT supposed to mean?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? Even though you could’ve been doing way more productive things with your time, you instead went out of your way to come taunt us ‘cause you hated how much attention we got thanks to the orientation fiasco, like an immature, jealous brat.”

“Not only that, you’re getting in our way when we have work to do.” You huff before making a shooing gesture. “So can you just leave already? I have way more important things to do than listen to someone whose opinions I don’t give a damn about.”

Once he overcomes his surprise, Grim starts guffawing, “Way to tell him, Henchman! That’ll teach that jealous brat not to mess with the Great Grim! Myahaha!”

“I am NOT jealous!” Ace scowls, “Why the hell would I be jealous of losers like you two who are only still around ‘cause you got lucky enough to get a job cleaning up all of the WAY more important people’s trash?!”

After saying that, Ace angrily stomps over to where you’re standing and jabs a finger at your chest, glaring all the while. “You have a lotta nerve looking down on me when I actually earned my place here fair and square after working my ass off, unlike you who just waltzed right in and did whatever you pleased. A magicless loser like you has no place at this school, so get off your damn high horse already before you get knocked off.”

Completely unfazed by his anger since you’ve gone up against far scarier people in Japan’s underworld, you boredly swat away his finger. “I’m not looking down on you.”

Faster than he can react, you reach out and grab onto Ace’s shoulder with a tight enough grip that makes him cry out in pain.

Using your grip on his shoulder, you push down with enough strength to force the redhead, whom you quickly realize has no real fighting experience, to his knees.

In hopes that he will refrain from bothering you and Grim in the future if you give him a scary enough warning, you fiercely glare down at the shocked boy who’s now kneeling before you. “NOW, I am, and if you don’t want to end up in way worse shape, I highly recommend that you leave me and Grim alone and just focus on your studies like a good little student.”

As expected, upon being on the receiving end of your heated glare, Ace flinches and becomes noticeably paler.

Unfortunately, it would seem Ace Trappola is not as smart as you had originally thought he was since, rather than follow his instincts, which have surely identified you as an opponent he has no hope of ever beating by this point, Ace, whose fear quickly turns into ire, instead immediately shoots back up to his feet and tries to grab you by the collar of your hoodie. “You arrogant bastard! Don’t you dare make fun of me!”

Naturally, you smoothly avoid his hands since he’s nowhere near fast enough to grab hold of an experienced fighter like you.

“Alright, Henchman, you’ve done your part! Now, it’s time for your amazing boss to take over! Myaaaaah!”

Catching you and Ace off guard, Grim, who had been laughing on the sidelines up until this point, decides to get in on the action and proceeds to use his fire magic on Ace who just barely manages to avoid Grim’s fireball attack.

“Whoa!” Ace exclaims before turning to scowl at Grim. “What are you doing?!”

Grim smirks, “Now that my henchman’s had a turn, it’s time for me to dole out some payback ‘cause no one makes fun of Grim, Master of Fire, and gets away with it! I'll make ya regret messin’ with me!”

Ace scoffs, “You wanna throw down with me, shorty? You got some guts.”

Realizing that the two boys look like they seriously intend to fight, you face-palm. This is not what I was hoping to accomplish when I tried to intimidate Ace. If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have done anything to him.

Just when you think this situation couldn’t possibly get any more exasperating, several NRC students, who had been on their way to class, start approaching the area where you, Grim, and Ace are, obviously curious about what’s going on between Grim and Ace.

Upon realizing that a fight is about to happen, the crowd of boys starts jeering and cheering, earning themselves an exasperated look from you. Boys…

Deciding it’s better to ignore the crowd for now, you quickly get in between Grim and Ace. “Enough! Grim, you can’t use your magic to fight here! If you cause any property damage, we’ll both get in serious trouble with the Headmage, and I do NOT wanna have to deal with that! And I bet you won’t be happy either when your tuna funds get taken away!”

Much to your annoyance, rather than heed your words, Grim scurries around you, moving fast enough that you can’t catch him. “Relax, Henchman! The only thing gettin’ damaged here is Ace’s ugly mug! Myahaha!”

Right after saying that, Grim launches another fireball at Ace. Unfortunately for the monster, his attack misses its mark just like it did last time, although it’s because of a completely different reason.

Instead of moving to dodge the attack like he did earlier, Ace, after pulling out what looks like a pen with a red gem on it, summons a gust of wind that knocks away Grim’s fireball before it can reach him.

Ace smirks, “Ha! How do you like that?”

As Grim complains about Ace blowing away his fireballs and the redhead taunts him in return, you just blink. Huh, guess magic can control elements here like it can on TV back in my world. Good to know.

Seconds after that thought crosses your mind, realization suddenly dawns on your now pale features. Wait a minute. Fire and wind together? Oh no…

Realizing that this is a recipe for disaster, you shout, “Both of you, stop! If you keep mixing fire and wind magic together, you’ll-!”

Before you can finish that sentence, Grim, who has chosen to completely ignore you, angrily fires off another fireball at Ace, which the redhead once again blows away with his wind magic.

Unfortunately, unlike last time, the fire doesn’t simply get diverted to an area where it can’t harm anyone. This time, it hits a target.

The worst possible target.

Horrified, you watch as Grim’s attack, which became stronger thanks to Ace's wind magic fanning its flames, just as you had feared would happen, lands a direct hit on the Queen of Hearts’ statue, causing the statue to become completely engulfed in flames. Oh, shit. We are so screwed...

And, of course, you were exactly right.

#twisted wonderland #twst #fortune in twisted wonderland #twst x reader #platonic everyone x reader #ace trappola #twst grim #my writing

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reashot · 4 months ago

Text

Merry Schneemas Or how the Jacques stole Christmas...

(This one is for all my followers that somehow still sticks around for me. Merry Christmas y'all.)

Jaune: Hey Weiss. I added one more person to the Christmas party I hope you don't mind.

Weiss: Oh of course not Jaune this is Christmas. The more people the merrier. So who do you invited?

Jaune: Oh it's your dad.

Weiss: YOU INVITED MY DAD!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

At Casa De Schnee.

Jacques: Hate, hate, hate... Double hate! ....LOATHE ENTIRELY!

Klein: Sir, there seems to be a message to you from one of young mistress Weiss's friend.

Jacques: A letter for me?

*rips open letter*

Jacques: I am to be invited to my daughter's Christmas party?

Klein: Then shall I make preparation for the travel, sir?

Jacques: Typical of my most useless children to invite me with just one day left before Christmas. But unfortunately I cannot because it will ruin my schedule...

Four o'clock wallow in self pity.

Four thirty stares into the Abbys.

Five o'clock solves world hunger. Tell no one.

Five thirty jazzercize.

Six thirty dinner with myself. I can't cancel that again.

Seven thirty wrestle with my self loathing.... I'm booked.

Of course I can move the self loathing to nine. I could still be done in time to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling as I slowly slipped into madness...

Screw it I'll just ruin Christmas for everyone. Klein let's go down into my evil lair and help me prepare a plan to ruin Christmas once and for all.

Klein: *sigh* As you wish, sir...

- 🎶

You're a sly one, Mr. Jacquees,

A schemer through and through,

You hoard all the treasures,

And share with just a few,

Mr. Jacquees...

You're as selfish as a miser, with a heart of frosty blue!

- 🎶

You're a taker, Mr. Jacques,

With greed that knows no end,

You’d steal a kid’s last cookie,

And mock them in between.

Mr. Jacques...

You’ve got the charm of a cobra, and the kindness of centipede!

- 🎶

Oh Mr. Jacques, oh Mr. Jacques,

What a wicked plan you weave,

Taking joy and spreading gloom,

On every Christmas Eve!

- 🎶

You're a hoarder, Mr. Jacques,

With a soul as dark as night,

You’d snatch the stars from heaven,

And claim them as your right,

Mr. Jacques....

You’re the icy chill of winter, in the absence of the light!

- 🎶

Oh Mr. Jacques, oh Mr. Jacques,

Will you learn to give instead?

Or will you hoard the Christmas cheer,

Until the joy is dead?

- 🎶

At Weiss's Christmas party...

Jacques:

"Ah, look at them, snug in their beds,

Dreaming of treasures while resting their heads.

But little do they know, when the sun starts to glow,

Their stockings and gifts will all be... mine to stow!

Look at this tree, so gaudy, so bright,

Who needs such sparkle on a cold winter's night?

Or this plate of cookies—what a wasteful delight!

I'll take the lot; yes, I’m doing this right.

They call this Christmas? What a frivolous thing,

Tinsel and toys tied up with a string.

A feast for the table, laughter, and cheer?

Bah, what nonsense—it’s greed they hold dear!

Oh, but not me—no, I see the truth.

It’s all just a sham, a lie taught in youth.

So I’ll clean out their treasures, take all that I can,

For I am Jacques, the taker, the man!

What’s this? A doll? Into the sack!

A shiny red train? On my shoulder, it’ll stack!

No gift too small, no bauble too plain,

When I’m through, not a trinket will remain!

But hush now, Jacques, be quiet, stay sly,

No sense in waking them, not even a cry.

For by morning, they’ll see the folly they’ve made,

And I'll revel in triumph, my dues fully paid!"

*click*

???: S-santa?

It was Jaune the biggest boy in the party waking up after a six person orgy.

Jaune: Santa. I knew it. I knew you're real.

But why are you taking all the presents?

The blonde himbo wonders. Jacques ever the shrewd man. Simply answers.

Jacques: Why I'm taking them back to my workshop on the pole. To have it fixed you see.

This is it there's no way there's someone dumb enough to believe this. Jacques thought.

Jaune: Wow. I didn't know the present was broken. Thank the gods you're here when you did Santa.

Jacques: (Wow... He is not the brightest lightbulb on the Christmas tree.)

Yes you read that right Jaune has a Christmas orgy now stop asking.

#jacques schnee #klein #rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #the grinch #dr seuss #christmas #rwby shitpost #rwby jaune

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thegeeksideofsr · 14 days ago

Text

Are You Wearing Pants?

An: Just another short story inspired by a funny post I saw

***********************************************

I sit at the bar next to Kate and Alice, watching Deklan mix up a new drink he found and wanted us to try.

The restaurant is quite, the three of us the only ones here, long after closing.

"Alright, ladies," he says, placing a glass in front of each of us. "Now, I need your honest opinions. Tell me what you think."

We each pick up our glasses, giving is a sniff. It smells fruity, and like alcohol.

We each lift our glasses, cheers them, then drink.

"Eh, not bad." Alice compliments.

"Damn, this is good!" Kate exclaims.

"I like it," I tell him as I take another sip.

"Oh, good!" He sighs, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now, I have a few others I want you to try."

I smile at his antics, and watch as he begins to mix up another drink. We taste test a few more drinks, eat some of the leftover desserts from the evening to soak up the alcohol.

After a while Alice's husband arrives to drive her home. We wave them off, then begin to clean up, and close down for the night.

Once the doors are locked, the three of us head to our cars to head home.

I park in my spot at my apartment buildings lot. I dig through my purse for my keys, planning to be ready when I get to my door. But they are nowhere to be found. I dig some more, shake my purse, but nothing. Not even a jingle. They must be sitting in the bowl by my door.

I sigh and drop my head back to the head rest. I roll my head to check the time. Twelve forty-five. My landlady is long in bed, and I can't bring myself to call and wake her.

The only one who might be up at this hour is my dad.

I pull out my phone and open his contact, and dial. It rings twice before he picks up.

"Kiddo, what are you doing up at this hour?" He asks.

"I could ask you the same," I huff. " I was wondering if I could stay the night at your place? I forgot my key in my apartment this morning and I don't want to wake my landlady."

He chuckles.

"Yeah, come on over. Prepping for a job anyway."

"Thank you, dad. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Sounds good. Drive safe."

***********************************************

After I park, I head up to his apartment, knocking, entering when he yells for me to come in.

I find him, and the team sitting in the living room, takeout containers line the counters.

"Hey, guys," I great."Sorry to crash the party."

"It's alright," Sophie answers. "It been awhile since we seen you."

I wander through to the living room, leaning against the back of the couch just behind my Dad, leaning over his shoulder to look at the papers on the coffee table.

"Yeah. Works been busy, haven't had much time to come by. How are things here?"

"Busy," Hardison says, shoving a gummy frog in his mouth. " Found lots of jobs, just going through and trying to prioritize."

"Aren't they all important?"

"Yeah, but some jobs are a bit more time sensitive."

I nod, not wanting to get him going on a rant again.

"Is that bag of clothes still here?" I ask my Dad.

He nods, still looking at the papers in his hand.

"Alright, goodnight, Dad," I lean over the back of the couch, press a kiss to my Dad's cheek.

"Good night, hun," he says turning to smile at me.

I smile back, then say good night to the others as I head up the stairs.

I enter his guest room, same as before, I had stayed here previously, leaving some pajamas there. Nothing much, just a over sized tshirt and some shorts.

I shut off the lights and crawl into bed, the blankets and pillows swallowing me, drifting off to the sounds of the team talking downstairs.

***********************************************

The sounds of dishes clanging and my dad swearing wake me up.

Flopping the blankets back, I crawl out of bead and head downstairs.

I find my dad surrounded by what looks like the ingredients for pancakes, but the smoke in the air, and flour somehow every where, it's clear that he's not having success.

"Dad?" I call from the bottom step. "What are you doing?"

He turns to me, a surprised look on his face, flour covering the front of his shirt.

I cross the room to open some windows, hopefully the alarm won't go off, then enter the disaster zone of a kitchen.

"I thought in make some breakfast," he shrugs. "Harder then I thought it be."

"Dad," I say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I love you. But I do not trust your cooking."

He looks at me, sighs heavy, nods. He moves away and start to clean up, I grab a towel and help scoop up the flour.

Once the kitchen is clean enough to start over, I take over making pancakes, the recipe one I learned in school and never forgot.

"You want a coffee?" My Dad offers.

"Yes, please."

We work in comfortable silence. He hands me a mug, then leans against the counters edge, to watch me.

Once I have a few pancakes on the pand to cook, I turn and mirror his position against the counter next to the stove.

"So, what were you up to last night that kept you out so late?" He asks, sipping his coffee.

"Deklan had some new drinks to try, so Alice, Kate, and I stayed late to taste test."

He nods

He takes a breath to respond when the door bursts open, revealing Sophie, Hardison, and Parker, all talking about something at the same time.

"Good morning! Sophie greats, when she see me.

"Morning," I smile in return, then turn back to my pancakes.

The begin discussing the job with my dad, their voices blending together.

A few minutes later the door opens again, not as violently as the last time, revealing Eliot, in his usual button front over a Henley.

He walks past the kitchen, giving me a nod, then continues to the living room with the others.

Once the pancakes are done, I grab a couple and plate them. I add my toppings, grab a fork then bring it to the table with my mug.

I eat as I listen to the team talk about whatever job they are working on. The mark sounds like a real piece of work.

Once I'm done I bring my dishes to the sink to rinse. I lean against the counter as I finish off my coffee.

I hear foot steps behind me. I turn to look and find Eliot, standing on there.

"Morning,"I smile to him, setting my mug on the counter. "Coffee?"

"Yeah. Be great."

I nod, then grab a mug from the cupboard and fill it from the pot.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Nah, black is fine."

"Ugh, you're one of those," I scrunch my nose as I hand him the mug.

He rolls his eyes, as he takes it.

"It's not that bad."

"It's bad enough."

He shakes his head and smirks as he takes a sip.

I check the clock on the wall. 9:30. Should be at the restaurant soon, and I still have to get let back in by my landlady.

I pick up my mug and down the last swallow, then rinse it and leave it in the sink.

I turn back twords Eliot, only to find him looking at me with rather big eyes.

"What?" I ask.

"Are you wearing pants?" He asks quietly.

I look down at my self. My shirt is long enough to cover my shorts perfectly, making it look like I'm not wearing them.

I look back up at him, grab the hem of my shirt and lift it just enough to show the hem of the shorts.

He nods, then looks away, taking a sip of coffee.

It becomes obvious that he's trying to hide his face, but I can still see his cheeks grow slightly red.

Deciding to ignore it, I just smile, then head upstairs to get dressed.

***********************************************

#christian kane #eliot spencer #eliot spencer x reader #ford!reader #leverage

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13as07 · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet Girl #2

(Shikaku Nara Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Pii (Fc2)]

Requested by: Also my hormones

Word Count: 3,733

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Age-gap

Oral (fe/male receiving)

Dacryphilia (aka getting hard cause of tears)

Creampie

Fighting (yelling)

Name Calling: Commander, Sweet Girl, Bitch, Good Girl

Pleasure Kink

Praise

Auralism (hearing people having sex)

Hairpulling

Exhibitionism

Three some (with Inoichi, kinda and cause you can’t convince me that the Ino-Shika-Cho first gen weren't swingers. Those men were real close)

Face fucking

Coercion (more or less)

Part Three?

———————————————————————

The tingles of neediness coat me, mixed with a layer of grogginess as I slowly shift out of sleep. Fear is the next thing to coat my senses, the feeling of something slithering through my pussy sparking it. "Good Morning, Sweet Girl. How'd you sleep?" The Nara chief's voice mutters, sending hot waves of breath across my very present arousal as his eyes look up at me.

Once the question is out, Shikaku tips his head down again, going back to lazily licking at me, toying with my clit before poking his tongue in, then making a slow trip back to my clit. "I... um... uh..." The answer won't form in my head, my eyes close as my hands ball up the sheet under me.

The events of the day before slowly filter in, making it even harder to form an answer. Shikamaru cheating. Shikaku 'apologizing' for his son. Shikaku pleading with me balls deep to stick around, to let him take care of me in any and every way I want. Shikaku filled me constantly, somehow managing to go the rest of the day with no problem. Shikaku buried between my thighs again and again, somehow between my knees more than he was in me.

"I slept good," I finally manage to push out, fluttering my eyes back open.

"Wonderful!" He cheers, his usual smirk coating his lips as his head picks up from its spot. "We have a busy day today," he tells me, slowly climbing up my body. Shikaku hooks his elbows under my knees, dragging my legs up with him as he crawls. "But, before you, pretty little thing, tug along with me for the day, I should properly greet you good morning," he says, leaning against me and pressing my knees into the mattress by my head.

Shikaku's nose brushes against mine, his dark eyes soft and admiring as he scans over my face. "Good morning, Sweet Girl. Thank you for spending the night with me."

"You're welc - mhm," the reply is cut off by Shikaku sinking into me. My pussy is raw and sensitive from constant use yesterday, a slight aching burn pooling with my arousal. Before I can stop myself, my hands shoot up, gripping the loose ends of his hair and tugging on it.

His head falls to the side I'm pulling it towards, eyes shiny and smile wide as he looks at me. "I know, I know. You ache, don't you? My poor Sweets. I promise as soon as we're done I'll help all those pains go away. But, for now, I need a little help with my morning wood, okay? Do you think you can help me with that?"

"Yes Commander," I murmur, tugging his head further to the side.

Shikaku gets off on my reactions, the ones he especially likes getting a chuckle from him, like this one is. "That's my Sweet Girl," he praises, working against me to settle his head on my shoulder. My painful cries are praised with kisses littered up and down my shoulder. "I'm sorry" and "Thank you" spilling on repeat from the older man as he slowly works himself in and out of me.

When I need a distraction from the pain, I tug on Shikaku's hair again, tugging his face closer to mine. "Oh, Sweet Girl," he coos, eyes sparkling at the sight of tears streaming down my cheeks. "You know I can't help myself when you cry," the chief mutters, lips brushing across my face to clean up my tears. "You're just going to dig yourself a deeper hole doing that. Calm yourself."

One of his hands drops from under my thigh, letting my legs tumble back to the bed. The hand still wrapped around my other leg pushes it further, as if the mattress will give way and let Shikaku snap me in half. His free hand snakes between us, ghosting over my clit, pulling another sob from me, and costing my cheeks in fresh tears. "Shikaku," I whine, trying to tug his hand away. "I'm - "

"I know, I know, I know. I've been overworking you. You're all sensitive and your cunt aches from stretching around me so much. I know, Sweets. I'm sorry for being so selfish, but I can't help it. The more you cry, the more I want to stuff you," he softly taunts, head dipped to suck on my titties for the first time today.

My nipples ache too from all the pinching and playing he did with them yesterday. Another sob comes from the added pain, my sight going blurry. "Damn it," he mutters, mouth snapping down on my nipple, his teeth tugging in it as he shoves himself into me. Shikaku tops off in me, coating my pussy in his cum. His chest pumps for air, mouth soft and pressing soft licks to my bruised tit as he calms himself down.

"I'm sorry, that was selfish of me. You're hurting and didn't get to finish. I'm sorry, Sweets," he mutters against my skin, slowly slamming his softening dick into me, shoving his cum deeper and deeper into me.

"Shikaku," I whine, snapping his head back, another round of chuckles spilling from him. "If you keep finishing in me, I'm going to get pregnant."

"I wish, Sweet Girl, but I'm shooting blankets. Don't worry your pretty little head."

Thank the Lord.

————————————

Shikaku's frame wraps around me, as we sway back and forth in the kitchen, singing along to the radio. I'm pressed up against the counter, caught between his arms as I watch him chop the vegetables for breakfast. "If you're crying in an unfamiliar town, even if I'm not by your side, I want to send you a smile," He hums in my ear, brushing a kiss against the shell of it now and again.

Once the vegetables are done, Shikaku settles the knife down, hands falling onto his T-shirt I'm wearing. His fingertips slide under the hem, toying with my stomach, swaying us more as he continues singing to me. "Even now, the shining, sparkling stars are shining on you," he whispers against my throat, ghosting kisses into my skin.

"Your hair tickles," I giggle, the mix of his hair and lips brushing against my neck making me stir.

"Oh, ya?" He asks, fingertips sliding over my sides, tickling me even more. "Does this tickle too? Does it?" He teases, fingers digging into my sides as I try to tug myself out of his hold.

"Shikaku!" I giggle, thrusting around in his arms. "Yes, it tickles! Knock it off!" My hands cling to his arms, trying to push them off me. My ribs are starting to hurt from laughing so much.

"Alright," he says, hands going still just under my boobs. "Be a Sweet Girl and set the table for me, okay?"

"Yes, Commander," I mutter, heat climbing up my cheeks now that the title has been tainted. My obedience is rewarded with a kiss to my cheek and a smack on my butt, pulling a soft yelp from me when Shikaku's hand lands.

As I walk around the kitchen collecting the kitchenware, tap after tap land on my ass, Shikaku giving me a love tap every time I pass him. "Commander!" I fake whine, another tap landing as he uses his bottom half to press me against the table.

"Sweet Girl," he mocks my voice, tugging his shirt up my body again. One hand keeps it tugged up, wrapped around the fingers he has pressed between my boobs. "You're so pretty," he praises, his free hand sliding down my stomach, and landing on my panties.

His fingertips dance over my clothes core, sparking my arousal as he toys with me. He prods at me, pressing against my hole and his dumb sliding over my clit. "Look at you, all sorts of excited," he chuckles, stratified with my growing wetness.

"Maybe don't fuck my girlfriend on the kitchen table," Shikamaru's voice cuts through the growing tension.

Shikaku rolls his eyes but does pull away from me, sulking back to the kitchen to finish breakfast. "Ex-girlfriend," I mutter, laying out the placements for dinner.

"What?" Shikamaru hisses, plopping in his unassigned seat at the table. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans back in his chair, eyes hard and set on me.

"Ex-girlfriend," I repeat louder, focusing on setting the plates and silverware out. "I'm your ex-girlfriend, Shika."

"Well we never officially broke up, so - "

"I came home to you fucking Temari!" I yell, slamming one of the plates against the table, the glass giving way and breaking. "You fucked someone else, I fucked someone else. I'm pretty confident there's no better way to solidify a breakup."

"You didn't fuck someone else, you fucked my dad!"

"And I fucked him over and over and over again. I just fucked him this morning, and I sure as hell will do it again later!" I huff, glaring at the man I swore was the love of my life. "Don't forget, you're the one that cheated, not me."

"You! Fucked. My. Dad." He repeats, stressing the first word. His hands are boxed, moving to the left with every word, as if his motion while make me hear his words better. "My dad. Not Naruto, not Shino, not even Choji. My dad. My dad. You've known the man your whole life. You knew my mom your whole life! And you what? Honor her death by fucking her husband?"

"Shikamaru," I mutter, rubbing my hands up and down the sides of my head. "Your mom has been dead for years. It's not like I was fucking him when she was alive, because unlike you, your dad and I aren't cheaters."

"You're being a bitch. That's what you're doing, you're acting like a bitch right now."

"Okay," I sigh, turning on my heels and heading toward the kitchen. I need to clean up the broken plate and grab another one from the cabinet.

"Make sure you grab an extra plate. Temari will be awake soon and she'll probably want to eat too. After all, my dad isn't the only man in the house that has a bitch stay overnight!" He yells after me, a huff following his words.

"Whatever," I mumble, rolling my eyes at the distraught man. It's not my fault he cheated, and it's not my fault his dad makes me feel good. He's just pissed at himself.

"That was... interesting," Shikaku chuckles, poking into the rice pot to check on it.

"It was stressful," I correct, pulling two more plates out of the cabinet. "Your son is stressful and cannot admit when he's in the wrong."

"I'm sorry I didn't raise him better," the Commander apologizes for the hundredth time, his arms wrapping around my hips again. "Let me make it up to you."

"Shikaku," I whine, clicking my knees closed. "I can't. I really can't."

"I know, Sweet Girl. Your poor cunt is all sore but don't worry, I won't stretch you out this time," He soothes, the man turning me around, and lifting me onto the counter. My panties are stripped off and left lying on the floor before Shikaku sinks to his knees.

His arms rest on my thighs, clinging to them as his thumbs rub circles into me. "Come on, Sweet Girl. Let your Commander have a little taste. Let me have some Sweets before breakfast is done."

I let out a soft whimper but shift my legs open, getting a pleased smile and Shikaku's tongue sliding across his lips hungrily. "That's a good girl. You're so sweet to me." The compliment is followed by his tongue sliding through my folds, eagerly lapping at my pussy.

My fingers flutter over his shoulders before culling his face, my thumb running over the jagged scars on his face. Shikaku's head tilts up, lips wrapping around my clit as his eyes lock on me. "Hey," I whimper, a new sensation sparking through me as he hums against my pussy.

He sucks harder on my clit, continuing it for a few more moments before he releases it with a pop. "See? You're fine. Your pussy just needs a little rest from being filled. It doesn't mean you can't be enjoyed," he mutters, eyes glancing towards my chest that heaves and jumping from the noises I'm making.

Shikaku's tongue dips back in, repeating his lazy back and forth between teasing my hole and teasing my clit. It doesn't take long for the knot in my stomach to build, nails digging into his scalp as I'm shoved closer to release. "Shikaku," I whine, tugging on his hair. "Commander, Shikaku."

His tongue slides over my clit again, jump-starting my orgasm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I whine between moans, slamming my thighs against his face as my body tenses. "Damn it."

He chuckles, lapping up my juices that dribble onto his face. "Thank you, Sweet Girl," he praises, eyes as shiny as his face that's covered in me. "You're always so good to me. Now, put your pretty panties back on and go wait at the table for me to serve you breakfast," he orders, stamping kisses across my thighs. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, Commander," I slur out, clumsily climbing back to my feet.

Shikaku's hands crawl up and down my body, helping me keep my balance as I slide my underwear back on. "Good girl. Good, good girl. Always so pretty for me, so sweet, so taste," he coos, shoving his tongue into my mouth as his lips crash against mine. "Now, go sit down," he orders again, smacking my ass harder than the new usual.

"Yes, Commander," I repeat, heat racing to my cheeks as I grab the plates and waltz out toward the dinner table, the leftover sizzles of my arousal still bouncing between my thighs.

Shikamaru looks like he's not sure if he's going to throw up or punch someone when I walk in, anger fuming off of him. Turns out he wasn't lying, the blonde girl is sat next to him, eyes wide and fluttering between the two of us. "So..." she mutters, tapping her hands against the table.

"Just be quiet Temari," Shika grumbles, snatching a plate from me and laying it in front of her.

Someone isn't hitting it right, and it sure as hell isn't Shikaku.

————————————

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Sweet Girl," Shikaku breathes out, curses whispered under his breath as I bob my head up and down his penis.

The past week I've been joining Shikaku at work, the whole time I've begged to do some under-the-desk support. Today he finally gave in. Hence, me kneeling shirtless on a cushion under his desk with his dick down my throat and his hands attempting to be gentle in my hair. He clings to it, then he realizes how rough his hold is before his fingers go gentle again, repeating the cycle over and over again.

"My Sweet Girl - " Shikaku is cut off by a knock, his eyes flickering away from me to rest on the door. His hands slide out of my hair, culling my cheeks as he tries to calm himself. "Sweets - " Another knock comes, this time paired with a shout of his name. "Just stay put," he mutters, gently tapping my cheek as he pulls his erection out of my mouth, nearly putting himself away.

"Shikaku," I whine, trying - and failing - to take him back down my throat.

"Hush," he orders me, scooting in so I'm pressed into him more. "Just be silent," Shikaku says, resting my head on his lap, and slowly sliding his fingers through my hair. "Come in!" He calls, twirling the ends of a strand.

"Shikaku! We need to talk!" A voice shouts once the door is opened, said door slamming closed behind the person.

My eyes flicker up, scanning Shikaku for a reaction. He seems unfazed so everything is fine. I settle my hand back down in his lap, letting my eyes flicker closed.

"What in the world do you think you're doing, Shika?" Oh, it's Inoichi; Ino's dad and Shikaku's best friend. "You're sleeping with your son's girlfriend? Or... or dating her? What the hell are you two doing? What the hell are you doing?"

"I mean, we haven't put a title on it but ya we're... sleeping together and we've been spending more time together. It's not that big of a deal," Shikaku answers, twirling my hair tighter.

My eyes flutter open, glancing up again. His full focus is on his friend, which means... my eyes flicker down to his still-hard crotch, the outline of his bulge fighting against his pants making my mouth water.

"'It's not that big of a deal'?" Inoichi shrieks, his voice getting closer to the desk. "She is young enough to be your daughter, literally! I get... I get the whole Shikamaru cheating, and her being upset about it and all, I get that part, but really Shika? You're fucking her? What... what the hell is going through your mind? That you just want some young tail? That you're cool with being a rebound? What?"

Their fight continues the sound of their voices becoming background noise as I work him back out of his pants. His hands tighten on my hair, tugging my head away from his penis. Shikaku's eyes flicker down, sending me a warning to knock it off before his attention turns back to his fight.

I wiggle around between Shikaku's legs, tugging at his hands to let go. His split attention makes it easier for me to loosen his hold, letting my head fall far enough down to suck on his tip. My eyes jump up to his face, watching it contort as I suckle on him. His face flushes, jaw locking and unlocking as he talks, and hands knotted in my hair, gently pushing my head further down his length.

"I just..." Shikaku starts, cutting himself off as he huffs out a breath. "She's fun, okay? She makes life fun again. I haven't had that since Yoshino died. So what if I'm a rebound? At least I get to have some fun while she's recovering."

"Fun? Is that what you're calling it? Her blowing you under your desk, 'fun'? Thrilling, even?"

We both freeze from Inoichi’s observation. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to blow Shikaku with his friend, another high-ranked Shinobi, in the room. "Yes," Shikaku answers slowly, lengthening the word as he says it. His hands gently push my head again, encouraging me to start bobbing it.

My eyes flicker up again, being met with a soft smile. I keep my sights set as I slide down his length, his tip tapping against my throat and causing a gag to gurgle up. Shikaku takes control, moving me slowly and easily as I focus on sucking him. "I don't see why you don't try it out."

"Fucking my son's girlfriend? Do we need to talk about how that's impossible?"

"That's not... what I meant," Shikaku mumbles, his hands moving a bit faster as his orgasm approaches.

"Oh, so you meant fucking your son's girlfriend," Inoichi mocks, his tone sarcastic.

"I mean... no but if she's willing then whatever. You haven't fucked anyone since your wife died. Maybe getting some while help you unwind yourself a bit," the Commander says, eyes intensely on me as he shoves himself down my throat. I choke around him, more gagging coming as Shikaku spills out down my throat, his cum sliding down and filling my stomach instead of my pussy for once.

"I was... it was a joke. I was kidding," Inoichi races out as Shikaku slowly pulls himself out of my mouth. "I was..." I'm helped to my feet, the Commander's hands pawing at me as he pulls me out from under his desk. "I was... kidding," His friend mutters, eyes locked on my chest as Shikamaru settles me on his lap, my back pressed into his chest.

"Sweet Girl," he purrs in my ear, hands gripping my boobs, squeezing them with my bra between our skin. "Can't you be sweet and help Chief Yamanaka calm down? Please?"

"I don't... I don't know," I mutter, a blush crawling across my face because of Shikaku's hands toying with me and the thought of getting another man off.

"I won't mind, Sweets. After all, a good friend shares," he adds, sending a wink to his friend. "Only if you want to though. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Do you want to? You want to fuck Inoichi?"

"N... no," I mumble, tingles swirling between my legs.

Shikaku hums in disagreement, a hand jumping down and sliding into my pants, quickly skirting past my panties as well. "That's not what your pussy says. You're all hot and bothered. Do you like the idea of taking the two of us? Do you want to be the center of attention in an orgy? How about you Inoichi? You want to fuck my 'too young for me' Sweets?"

Inoichi's eyes jump down, watching as his friend toys with me, fingers barely tipping into me to keep me squirming in his lap. His cheeks heat up too, eyes bouncing away but quickly moving back towards me. "I... she's..." He tries to say, cutting himself off with a hum and another eye flicker. "Yes," he whispers, eyes set on me again.

"How about you, Sweet Girl?" Shikaku whispers in my ear, finally thrusting the length of his fingers into me.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes," I race out, clinging to his thighs as widen my legs, hoping it'll help his fingers reach into me deeper. Shikaku chuckles, curling his fingers a few times before pulling them out of me. "Shikaku!"

"Sweet Girl!" He teases, picking me up to rest me on my feet. "You won't die because you have to wait a minute or two," he tells me, a hand sliding up my bare back to unclasp my bra. Once it's tugged off of me, Shikaku's focus switches to tugging my bottoms off, leaving me bare in his office. "Door please."

Inoichi turns on his heels, closing the door and locking it before heading back towards the desk. What the hell did I just sign myself up for?

———————————————————————

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden smut #shikaku nara smut #shikaku smut #shikaku oneshot #Shikaku Nara oneshot #shikaku x reader #shikaku nara x reader #shikaku nara

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bluestar22x · 8 months ago

Text

The Shot Not Taken

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (Nickname "Sunny")

Summary: It was one last night in a cabin after a case; it wasn't supposed to end this way

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,400(ish)

Warnings: Sexual tension, yearning, violence, fairly graphic mentions of blood, angst, tragedy - Might be AUish since I don't know what time of year Marcus actually moved to D.C.

Author's Note: I wrote this for @almostfoxglove 's Angst Challenge, and I almost made myself cry, so prepare yourselves. (Moodboard was made by them)

xxx

"You wanna quit while you're ahead, Pike?" you questioned, a smirk on your face. "Before I take what's left of your cash?"

"You're bluffing," he said warily, his dark eyes peering over his hand of cards to where you sat across the table. "There's no way you're that lucky. You've already won five rounds tonight."

"Don't get mad at me when you can't afford breakfast tomorrow."

He flashed you a wicked smile as he placed his hand on the table. "Somehow I doubt that'll be the case." He nodded at his cards. "Four of a kind."

You glanced down to see that he indeed had four aces. You chuckled, surprising him. "Weak."

You dropped your cards on the table revealing that you had the ultimate hand. "Royal flush."

He groaned. "What the hell, Sunny?"

"If it makes you feel better, I'll share my breakfast with you tomorrow," you promised. "Now hand over the money."

A thin smile broke through his look of disbelief. "You should've been nicknamed Lucky instead of Sunny. I'm never playing poker with you again."

"Aw, but you just paid my rent for the month," you teased.

"Exactly."

He reached for his bottle of beer and took a sip before throwing the cash he owed you onto the center of the kitchen table. "I'm bailing before I can't afford my rent."

You pretended to pout but couldn't keep up the act for long. You were nicknamed Sunny for a reason. You hardly ever were in a bad mood. There wasn't much that could keep your spirits down. Which was a good thing, considering your job as an FBI agent for the art crimes department in Washington D.C. involved some very long hours and carried plenty of risk when out in the field.

"Chicken," you declared as you pushed your chair away from the table. "Fine. I wanted to go for a walk before it got too dark outside anyway."

Pike nodded at you as you sprung to your feet. "I'll pick up the cabin while you're out."

"How chivalrous of you, Agent Pike," you sang out. "I'll be back by sunset the latest. Send the hounds if I'm not."

It was a joke, but unsurprisingly the lines over your partner's brows etched in a little deeper. Worried at just the idea of you not coming back. It was sweet, considering you'd only been partners for four months. He'd just moved to the capital on a promotion.

Maybe that meant you were friends.

When he'd first been paired up with you Marcus Pike had been reserved around you, almost like he was afraid to become friends with you.

You'd been secretly hurt by it because he was fine with almost everyone else. His cheerfulness almost rivaling your own at times. He was one of the most good-natured agents you'd ever met, but he was quiet around you. Not necessarily cold, but strictly professional.

You'd wondered if someone had hurt him and if you reminded him of them somehow. He seldom mentioned his final months in Texas to anyone.

You'd thought you were reaching before Marcus came around, because he seemed as married to his work as you were, but your superior had revealed to you at a work party that Marcus had requested for his ex fiancée to have a job at the capital too but she'd never shown up. Marcus had simply told him they'd broken up.

"I doubt you'll need to," you assured him. "Last I checked the case is closed so no stolen art dealers should be stalking these woods. We cuffed our guy last night. Only possible danger out there now is bigfoot."

Marcus huffed. "I have a feeling you're more likely to run into a black bear. Not as many bigfoot sightings in upper New York as there are in the northwest."

You grinned. "Good thing I'm good at intimating anything bigger than me." You patted the holster on your hip. "And my gun's right here for backup."

You fled the cabin you'd been stuck in for most of the past month while you were working on your latest case and headed out on the dirt trail alongside the lake that bordered the back of the property.

There were trees on either side of the path, but you were close enough to the lake's border to be able to see the water the whole time you strolled along it.

It didn't take you long to settle into the peace that nature often brought you. You loved the city life, all the things you could do instead of being bored, but every once in a while it was nice to get away.

You couldn't really count one evening before your flight back to D.C. as a "get away" but you'd take what you could get before your next assignment.

It was autumn, after all, your favorite season. The air was crisp but not quite yet cold enough for you to bother with a jacket, and most of the trees were at the height of flaunting their bright, colorful leaves. In less than a month most of them would fall away, their remains scattered by the wind, leaving the branches bare, exposed, until the trees resurrected in the spring.

Though it wasn't quite yet jacket weather, there was enough of a breeze to compel you to slip on the sweater that you'd tied around your waist on the way out along with the fingerless gloves that had been stuffed into its only pocket.

It's perfectly pleasant out with the extra layer on, and you enjoy every second of the rest of your time in the woods. The loss of light from the setting sun was the only real reason you eventually wanted to turn back. After a raven startled you with its call you decided it was time to return to the cabin before your paranoia got the better of you.

You'd never liked being in the woods at night.

You didn't immediately go back inside the cabin though. Instead you chose to plop yourself down on a massive rock by the edge of the lake and watch the sun as it set.

It was so calming to observe that you zoned out and didn't hear Marcus approaching until he was already sliding onto the rock with you.

He offered you a green mug that clearly contained coffee, its smell filling your nostrils almost as soon as you'd spotted it in his massive hands.

"Decafe, milk only?" you asked. You hated drinking caffeine after six o'clock. You always tossed and turned in bed after.

"Of course."

You accepted the mug from him and tested it. It wasn't bad for cheap home brewed coffee from the local gas station and Marcus had got the ratio of milk right.

He was good with details even outside work.

"It's quiet out here," he noted, pleased.

"A little too quiet at this time of day," you told him. "The day animals are going to sleep and the night ones are just starting to get up. We're in the between."

"Spending time out here has got me thinking," he confessed. "I think I'm going to search for a cabin in Virginia when I get back. It would give me a place to unwind, a place where I don't hear an engine roaring and tires screeching every minute of the day. Would be good for the kids too when I have some someday."

You glanced at him, stunned by his casual mention of wanting to start a family someday. He'd never mentioned it before, but there he was beside you, a wistful look in his eyes, probably imagining his hypothetical future children playing in a lake similar to the one in front of you, splashing each other relentlessly or something as he watched them from the shoreline.

You couldn't help but shake your head at that. It wasn't meant for his eyes, but he noticed anyway.

"What?"

"Nothing," you mumbled, adverting your gaze from his handsome face.

"Tell me."

You shook your head. "It's nothing you'll want to hear. I don't want to ruin your night. Besides, it's none of my business."

"Tell me anyway," he insisted.

You sighed, not wanting to give in but knowing you were going to anyway. "It's just...we're both on the border of forty and we're on the wrong end of a gun at least once a month. The picket fence with the spouse and the two-point-five kids? That's not for us. We're not normal. This isn't normal. This isn't the way normal people live, Marcus."

"Plenty of other agents have families," he pointed out.

"And their families wait with baited breath every day until they come home," you reminded him. "And sometimes there's no relief. Sometimes their spouse, their parent, never comes back home."

It was Marcus' turn to sigh. "This is about your dad."

Your father had been an FBI agent too, in the National Security branch. You'd been only eleven years old when he was shot to death with twelve rounds by the suspect he'd been chasing down in the middle of the city.

"It's not fair to do that to anyone Marcus," you told him. "That's why I'm still single. Why I refuse to get married. It was that or get a desk job, and that's not me. But maybe, if you really want a family, a desk job is what you need. If you have a family, you should commit to them fully."

You were sure he'd be upset with you for everything you'd just said, but instead of getting defensive he scratched the top of his left arm and nodded.

"I've actually been thinking about that lately. The promotion's already given me more of a taste of what it would be like being in the office more often than not, and it doesn't disagree with me. Honestly, I think I'm over my risk taking days."

"What's stopping you then?" you questioned.

"Lately, you," he answered without really thinking.

You startled and stared at him. You noticed he was looking at you in a completely new way, or maybe you were waking up to something in his expression that had always been there. "What?"

"I didn't want to make our partnership a problem, but I also don't want to transfer without you knowing," he continued.

"Knowing what?" You were in complete disbelief. You already knew what he was going to say.

"I care about you, Sunny." He said your nickname so softly. "I want you. Have since we met. Tell me you feel the same."

They were bold words but you found yourself drawn towards him anyway, your lips crashing into his.

You had been yearning for him too. He was your friend, the best partner you'd had in a long time, and he was pretty to boot. You may have already had several dreams about kissing him like this...and more.

Despite all that, you pushed him away when he tried to deepen the kiss, as he cupped your jaw. "The picket fence isn't my ending, Marcus. I don't ever want a desk job. I don't want kids. You deserve someone who shares your dreams. I'm one night stand material, nothing more."

"That's alright," he said so surely the words made your stomach flutter.

You knew him better than that though. "No, it's not," you refuted. "You're not one night stand material, Pike, or else you'd be a lot more relaxed than you are lately. Have you ever slept with a woman you didn't love before? No matter how briefly you'd known each other?"

He stayed silent, answering your question.

You hopped off the rock for his sake, not wanting to be another of his relationships that ended in disappointment, and headed for the cabin to get in some extra hours of sleep.

There was nothing left to say. You couldn't be who Marcus needed you to be and you'd both get hurt if you gave into your lustful desires.

You dreamed of him in vivid detail that night.

The next morning Marcus stirred to the sound of slamming doors through the kitchen window, which he guessed you must've cracked open while going through your morning routine as you usually did during warmer weather.

You were the one making the ruckus, already packing your belongings into the black government issued SUV you'd been assigned while on the case.

After a bathroom break Marcus smoothed down his sleep mussed hair and headed for the kitchen where you'd left out a cup of caffeinated coffee you'd brewed for him after pouring yourself one. His lips quirked upward as he thought about your kindness and he snatched the cup up so he could take a sip. The coffee was on the cooler side of hot, but that was exactly how he preferred it.

You had gotten to know each other quite well during the few months you'd known each other, much more than just your coffee preferences. But he'd caught feelings for you early on, before that, despite not wanting to. Realizing he liked you had been a painful revelation. The last thing he'd wanted was another workplace romance, not even a month after his last had ended poorly.

He had tried to keep you at an arm's length at first, but that hadn't worked out. You'd seemed hurt by it, and that had eventually broken his resolve.

He'd tried to be satisfied with your friendship, but as soon as he could call you a friend, he'd started dreaming at night about you being more than that.

He'd thought maybe, just maybe sleeping with you would've been enough, but you were also right. He wasn't one night stand material. He'd never had casual sex in his life. There were always feelings attached to it.

And you wanted different lives. Like his last girlfriend, you were simply just not meant to be his.

That hadn't stopped him from restlessly tossing and turning in his bed the night before. Thinking about that kiss. How needy your response to his confession had been. How soft your lips had felt against his.

The memory began to make him aroused and he had to shift in his spot by the kitchen sink to get more comfortable.

Think of anything else, Pike.

He focused on the view through the window, a fog carpeting the rocky shores of the lake that cool, sunny morning. He was a city guy at heart, but he'd meant what he'd said the night before. It would be nice to get a cabin and spend some time in nature once in a while. It would be therapeutic.

He'd lost himself in the sight before him when two overlapping gunshots broke the peaceful morning.

Marcus jumped into action, scrambling for his work appointed glock and charging outside to the driveway with little thought for his own safety.

He froze when he turned the corner to the back of the cabin and his eyes found you slumped against the back end of the SUV, the trunk still raised, open.

You were wide-eyed, gasping for air, shaking, and you were holding your left hand over a dark patch of blood that was expanding alarmingly fast over your white tank top on the mid-left side of your chest. Your right hand still had a white-knuckled grip on your gun.

Marcus' heart nearly stopped at the sight. He barely noticed the body of the man laying only a few feet in front of you as he raced to your side to help you.

"Shit, Sunny," he hissed as he added pressure to your bullet wound with one of his own hands.

You coughed, and when you responded you sounded weak and pained. "It's bad." You looked scared.

Marcus brushed your cheek with the back of his hand comfortingly. "Shhh...save your strength."

He slipped his hand into the front right pocket of your jeans where he knew you always kept your cell phone and dialed 911. He later wouldn't be able to recall exactly what he'd told the emergency operator, only that he'd given them enough details to get the paramedics there fast.

"Hang on, Sunny," he murmured when he got off the phone. "They're on their way."

He was in complete denial of what was happening in front of him. If he hadn't been he'd have written you off as already dead. Because you basically were. You'd lost far too much blood. The bullet had most likely nicked a part of your heart. You were fading fast. Your eyes already falling.

"Marcus," you somehow managed to croak out. "Promise me you won't give up. You keep...looking for someone...to share that cabin with."

He shook his head at you, feeling desperate. "No."

"Please," you begged.

"Fine," he said, "But you're gonna have to be my wing woman. Keep me from moving too quick."

You almost managed a chuckle before the last of your strength slipped from you and you stopped breathing altogether. It was that abrupt.

Panic soared in Marcus. He carefully laid you out on your back in the dirt and pressed two fingers to your neck, searching for a pulse. Finding none he could palpate, he knelt over you and started to do chest compressions.

"Damn it, Sunny! Come on! Stay with me!"

Any civilian watching would've been horrified by the sight of your blood squirting out of your wound onto his hands and gray sleep shirt as he worked. It was a futile effort, keeping your heart going when there wasn't enough blood to pump anymore, but it wasn't until he heard the ambulance sirens that Marcus became aware of that.

The tears welled up then, his chest tightening as he went blind.

"Sunny, oh god," he sobbed out, taking in the gruesome sight before him. It seemed like the blood was everywhere.

He pulled your upper body off the ground and cradled it in his arms, pressing his forehead against your own, his lips grazing your closed right eye.

"Damn it, Sunny," he whimpered out before the full bulk of his grief hit him.

He nuzzled his face against your cooling one and finally wept.

Marcus wasn't sure how he'd managed to pull himself together enough to be the one to inform your sister of your passing, but he had.

He'd insisted on it. It was only right he be the one to tell her since he'd been your partner and had been there for your dying breath.

He'd promised your sister that it had been quick and that you hadn't died alone. And even though that made her cry harder, she'd promised him that it made a difference and thanked him for doing everything he could for you in the moment.

He hoped she had family to lean on the day of your funeral. He wasn't there when they put you in the hole. He'd been busy on another case, having buried himself in work to distract himself from his own pain, despite his superior begging him to take some time off to properly mourn you.

Witnessing the funeral would've made it too final. He hadn't been ready yet.

It wasn't until he finally met the one, someone who made him smile again, for real, who shared his dreams for the future, that his heart truly began to mend from your loss.

It wasn't until he had the wedding band, the cabin, and the kids that he completely stopped having the nightmares.

There were still nights though, usually around the anniversary of your death, when he'd lie awake wondering what would have happened if he had stopped you from leaving the rock by yourself that night.

Would you have woken up late, tangled in the sheets with him instead of being outside to face the secret partner of the illegal art dealer alone? Would he have harmlessly stolen back the painting hidden under the rear seat of the SUV instead of stealing your life?

Even though he was sure now that you were never meant to be his, he still couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake letting you go back to the cabin without him. If you should've been his exception.

You would always be his biggest regret.

The shot not taken.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Marcus Pike #The Mentalist #almostfoxgloveangstchallenge #Marcus Pike Fanfic #Mentalist Fanfic #Pedro Pascal Character Fanfic #X Reader #Fanfiction #Mine #Queue Me

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