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izvmimi · 11 months

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our time - izuku x reader

cw: minors dni, fem!reader, reader implied to be a hero & high school sweetheart, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex, public sex, hot tub sex, shower sex, sex toy use, safe word use, rapid shifts between humor, smut, and hurt/comfort, lots of cheesy jokes tbh, deku is a little bit sassy, bakugou and shinsou have unnamed female partners, baby mention. summary: you and izuku share a yearly tradition. a/n: i'm reposting this hella self-indulgent selfship fic because i can!

“This is a lot of packing for a two day trip,” Izuku teases, as you hand him your overstuffed suitcase, the same dark green typical of his merchandise. He places it next to his noticeably lighter one, which coincidentally is a deep purple and has your Hero name plastered all over it.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing you want to see me in as many outfits as possible in a 48 hour period, right?” you tease back, tapping him gently on the nose. He leans in as he presses the rear door close button to the SUV, then grins.

In a low voice, he whispers, “that’s quite a bit of clothing for me to tear off. Are you sure?”

Your face warms and you hate that you never win at this game, but try to come up with something quick to say.

“I’ll be swiping your card indiscriminately to replace anything you ruin this year,” you add, eyes lowering to where your finger is prodding his chest. His eyes seem to twinkle.

“Sounds like I need to make more money then.”

He’s won this round. The warmth spreads to your ears and reflexively you hit his shoulder. His grin widens and you slip from his gaze to run to the passenger side of the car. No more time for banter.

“We’re gonna be late, Izuku!"

Bakugou has given you clear instructions to pick up the keys to your shared vacation home between 6 to 7 pm and will give you absolutely no room for tardiness. You anticipate that he’ll make all manners of disgusted facial expressions when you show up to his place, given that he knows exactly what you’ll be doing for the next 48 hours, and you are still trying to decide whether or not you should play along and double down or admit that you’re a little embarrassed ever since you started this tradition.

Or at least that you’re embarrassed your closest friends are aware of what exactly this tradition entails.

Izuku, on the other hand, never has any shame it seems. If anything, he’s a little overeager for this “retreat” this year, and it’s almost certainly because the past few weeks at work were nothing short of a nightmare for him. Catastrophes that seemed to only prop up as far as humanly possible from you seemed to be the order of the day recently, and you hadn’t had time for dedicated physical intimacy in a while, let alone even see him between missions. The only thing that made it easier to tolerate his absence was that you fell asleep so fast these days due to exhaustion that you barely noticed his side of the bed stayed empty the entire night.

As he drives, possibly a little too fast and somewhat recklessly (frankly unexpected for a person like him), he holds your hand with varying levels of tightness as though he’s playing with the feel of your hands in his - remembering it, reacquainting himself. He doesn’t say much yet but you can tell by the look in his eye and the twitch in his lips (controlling his urge to talk under his breath), that he’s daydreaming. You have an idea what of.

Pervert.

“What are you thinking of, Izuku?” you inquire after a moment. The goal of the statement is to disarm him which only works half the time.

“Sex,” he replies, bluntly. He doesn’t turn to look at you, focusing on the road carefully, but his fingers tighten again around yours as you pull away indignantly.

“Stop!” you hiss and he laughs loudly. Every time he sneaks a glance at your flustered expression for the next few moments, he breaks out into another bout of laughter and you can’t help but smile too.

“People need to know how ridiculous you are sometimes,” you murmur. “I should expose you, honestly. Let them know who their hero really is.”

“I thought you hated sharing me with everyone,” he says. You meet his sideways glance as he turns, hand over hand, into Bakugou’s driveway. You consider his words for a moment, then sigh.

“I guess you’re right. I do.”

The car slows to a stop and he parks then faces you in the car for a moment. Sometimes you wonder how he manages to do this - look at you every so often like it’s truly the first time he’s ever seeing you, even if you’ve known each other since you were high-schoolers. He places a hand on your knee as you turn towards him.

“I’m yours, okay? Not just during our birthday vacation but all the time,” he reminds you. You twist your mouth to the side. There’s something about Izuku that indulges the more immature parts of you, and he handles them all the same.

“Understood?” he insists.

You nod, pretend-reluctantly, and he whispers, “Good girl,” before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Things have been hard recently, you think, but when he’s close to you like this, everything you go through feels worth it. There’s another kiss that makes it to your lips, and perhaps your arms make their way around his neck and-

“I swear to God if you guys start to fuck on my property, I will tear both of you a new one.”

With Bakugou’s irritated voice calling out to you, there’s a flash of the driveway lights that nearly blinds you, as though you are teenagers being caught getting too close in the driveway of your parents’ home.

Izuku steps out of the car first and Bakugou throws a set of keys at him before flashing you an annoyed look. You give him a cheeky raise of the eyebrows to acknowledge him similarly, pretending not to notice the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt, and look around him to see one of your favorite people make her way out of the house from behind him.

She’s wrapped haphazardly in a shawl and you laugh as she hugs you, able to tell she clearly just threw those clothes on ten seconds ago, if the breathiness in her voice and the flush in her cheeks is not enough to make it obvious.

“Please do not poke my eye out with your titties, I’m begging you love.” She grins widely as she squeezes you tighter.

“You don’t need your eyes to suck cock, do you?” she whispers into your ear. You roll your eyes.

“Can you ever be civilized?”

“Good question,” Bakugou asks, but not before slapping his wife’s ass on the way back into his house. “Don’t crash on your way there, Midoriya, I don’t want to pick up your shifts.”

“That’s his way to say ‘drive safely’!” your friend translates as she gives Izuku a quick, slightly more chaste hug, then jogs backwards back into the house where Bakugou is waiting. “Happy birthday! Let me know when you guys get there!”

“We will! Thanks!” you wave.

When you turn, Izuku is already getting back into the car. It doesn’t take long for both of you immediately to burst into laughter.

“Kacchan is such a hypocrite. As if we don’t see the bite marks all over his chest.”

“And __’s neck. Embarrassing.”

You tease but it’s cute to see them so happy. Of all your friends, you think they’ve been stable the longest, and their relationship simply fell into place. It helps you believe that perhaps things will be good for you long-term as well.

As if Midoriya can read your wistful thoughts, he picks up your hand and kisses the knuckles idly for a moment as he continues to drive, the highway tapering off into a smaller paved road as night settles in. Both of you are tired from the week, and opt for peaceful silence and music played at a low volume. After all, you will have plenty of uninterrupted time shortly.

---

You’re not sure when you dozed off exactly.

Izuku nudges you gently to wake you then carries you out of the car with one arm and produces a couple dark tendrils from Blackwhip with the other to pull the luggage behind you.

“I can walk,” you murmur, although you like the idea of being carried, and hope he insists, which he does, and you nuzzle closer into his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne.

There’s a small gate outside of the cabin that is truly underestimated by the word; rather, it is a large and lavish three-winged property, U-shaped, and fairly secluded in the forest and trees. A section, the rightmost one, belongs to you and features the name ‘Midoriya’ on a welcome mat in front of the entryway.

Izuku takes in an exaggerated deep breath as he opens the door, and excitedly exclaims,

“Finally. Peace and quiet.”

You try to stifle a laugh as he sets you down, and stretch out a hand for him to toss you his phone and drop in a special safe hanging from the side of the wall along with your own. There’s a preset timer set for 48 hours (except for emergencies) on its display that you contemplate before confirming.

“It’s silly that we do this!” you call out, feeling the disconnection to the outside world immediately the second the safe beeps to signal that it’s locked. Yet it’s necessary, because both of you are bad at blocking out the outside world and simply relaxing when needed.

Izuku steps out of the master bedroom, completely undressed aside from a pair of boxer briefs which he is also actively in the process of shedding. You take in his body, impressive in its shape and decorated with scars and freckles, and almost miss what he says.

“What’s silly is that you’re fully clothed when it’s hot tub time.”

Your eyes widen and you blink a few times in succession as you watch him strip to nothing, and suddenly you forget that you’re exhausted. Swallowing hard, you make your way towards him, but really past him, towards the room where your packed clothing lies, and he intercepts you on the way there, grinning widely as he towers over you.

“I need to get my bathing suit,” you pout, knowing very well you’re not getting past him.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lays kisses on your neck that immediately disarm you. You can feel your body sink into him, as you make soft sounds of protest but soon you’re in his arms again and he’s carrying you to the hot tub, lips connected with every step.

…

The night continues and you sink deep onto Izuku’s cock, heat rising around and inside you. Your fingers cling to his broad shoulders as you slide onto him repeatedly, half-lidded eyes gazing down at him. He aids your descent, gliding you onto him as he worships your bosom with his tongue, laving a different wetness along your nipples and the curve of your breast, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“God, I needed this,” he whimpers as he buries his face into your neck. He cums, holding you tightly, filling you for the first time that night. The splash of water as he moves you so that your back presses against him and he can kiss the nape of your neck is somewhat soothing to your ears, as is the sound of his breathing as he holds you close.

You need him more - always, really. You revel in the way he plays with your hair and runs his calloused hands along your skin.

You also revel further in the way he dives deep between your legs, after you’ve sat together in the tub and let stress melt away, and after you’ve fucked a second time in the shower, your back pressed against the warm tile, and his hands supporting the weight of your thighs, steady despite the slippery water running over your bodies. He sucks your clit and blows softly against your folds, excited by the tensing of your thighs against his head and the relentless moans.

“‘Zuku, it’s too much…”

It’s never too much, because you can always handle more of him, and he eats you out till you cry and cum all over again, messy on his face, wrists in the palm of his broad hand. He kisses your belly as you practically convulse and come down from your high.

“Wanna rest, baby?” he asks. It’s hard for you to speak as your head spins, so instead you curl up against him. He takes it as a yes.

You fall asleep in his arms, beating hearts pressed close together. There will be more in the AM.

---

The smell of breakfast wakes you before a gentle ache in your thighs. As you shift and reorient yourself from the unfamiliar surroundings, you can hear Izuku make his way in the room with an impossibly loaded tray of breakfast foods he sets precariously on a coffee table across from the California King bed.

“Rise and shine, love.”

Before you can shift, Izuku makes his way on top of you, laughing as you wriggle under him.

“You’re so freaking heavy,” you hiss, but your arms make their way around his bare chest and you inhale his scent. His natural smell is comforting in its familiarity and despite the fact that you’ve been skin to skin nearly all of last night, you crave more closeness. His voice rumbles against your skin as he holds you tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Like a baby,” you reply.

“Perfect. We should have breakfast,’ he insists. “We could go on a short hike and watch some of the birds in this area.”

“Mm, definitely.”

You kiss his forehead and satisfied, he rolls off of you too quickly for you to reach and slap his ass. He gives you a cheeky look and you crinkle your nose at him first before you decide to get out of bed.

You slip your feet into warm fuzzy sandals and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth first. A blanket is wrapped around your naked body, because you don’t like how the floor-to-ceiling glass windows make it easy for anyone (anyone who dares to anyway) to peep at you. Izuku is at the second sink at the far end, rubbing day-old stubble on his chin to decide if he wants to shave.

“Keep it,” you ask him as you press toothpaste onto your toothbrush. In response, he scratches his chin against yours as you bat him away.

“Maybe I will.”

Breakfast is filled with chatter and laughter, realizing you haven’t had enough time to really speak to each other in the past few months, despite living in the same house. You hold his hand as you walk up higher and higher up the mountain, clad in shirts and cargo shorts and too much sunscreen, bellies full but not heavy.

Izuku has a guide in his hand that you cannot fathom when he had the time to read that identifies more than a couple of creatures that soar above in the early morning, and you get surprisingly good pictures, particularly when Izuku uses his Quirk to get you high into the treetops for a better vantage point.

You do some foraging as well, of different fruits and flowers to add to your scrapbook, petals to press later -

Much like you find Izuku pressing into you shortly after, shrouded in the denser part of the brush, away from the shy fauna. All you can feel is him, all you can see is him raised above you, and the caws of birds that are probably embarrassed to witness how easily you drip like sap around him.

“..h-harder, Izuku,” you demand, scratching at his neck, his chest, his back, anything to communicate your feral desire. He bites your shoulder as he grunts in response, driving as much cock into you as he can muster, and you get what you asked for.

---

“I can’t believe you convinced me to roll around in the dirt with you.”

You gently admonish him with a kick of your leg, sending bathwater splashing at his face. He grips your leg and straightens it, laughing as you give him a slightly surprised look.

“As opposed to everything else you’d be willing to do for me?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your ankle. You can feel heat spread to your neck as he kisses further but stops just short of your knee, and then wades from his end of the bathtub to yours, pulling you to his side.

“When did you get so cocky?” you flick more water at him with your fingers as he grins. Your bodies shift in position, until your back rests against his chest and he’s holding your breasts in your hands, grazing your nipples with his thumbs.

“Way back when I finally got your attention.”

You turn suddenly to kiss him then pause. His lips are parted and soft and he looks somewhat surprised by your sudden movement. There’s something that’s said between you two without words, something that whispers I’ve missed you despite the fact that you and he have always been here.

“Do I still have it?” he whispers suddenly, as his lips ghost yours.

“Always.”

The scent of rose and jasmine fills your nostrils and love fills your heart.

---

“I’m surprised even though this is the third time we’ve been here, I never get tired of this place,” you say as Izuku lays his head in your lap. Izuku might as well be something like a cat or a bunny at this rate - you can practically feel him purr with the gentle scratches of your nails against his scalp, and his hand squeezes your thigh gently whenever you stop. “I still don’t think we’ve seen everything,�� you continue.

“Probably not,” he agrees. His wavy hair is slightly damp still, and the rise and fall of his chest is slow and steady. He’s staring up at the ceiling and you can tell his mind, for once in a long while, is almost completely clear.

Almost.

You can’t lie that you haven’t been a little worried about your phone messages and other updates you’ve been missing while you’ve been engrossed with Izuku, and you can tell he feels similarly, a little bit of guilt settling in. It’s the same for you. Work, work, work. That’s what life has been like between you two as you’ve climbed your respective career ladders, trying to save the world as best you can. Times like this are rare and need to be protected as something as precious as people’s lives.

“Oh my God, do you remember the last time we were here and your nosy self thought it was a smart idea to start exploring the other wings?”

Izuku’s eyes widen as he recalls.

“Fuck.”

You start to laugh and kick your legs and he gets up, shaking his head.

“Shinsou told me the next time I trespassed he would have me shit myself in public. I hear him in my nightmares sometimes, honestly.”

You laugh even louder, doubled over as the image of Izuku, suddenly dangling from the ceiling by his ankle the second he passed through one door too many.

“The way you called my nameeeeeee!” you cackle as he pouts. “You were swinging there like a trapped animal!”

He purses his lips at you but you’re too busy laughing your ass off to notice, and eventually he ends up laughing too, falling back into your lap. His hands reach up to press your cheeks together.

“You know, it’s weird how many ropes and traps and harnesses are just littered around… Your friends are into some kinky shit,” he points out. Remembering many a midnight conversation about Shinsou and your friend’s ventures into shibari, you simply have to agree.

“I don’t know, I guess she likes being tied up.”

Izuku shoots you another glance, and you can see the glint of mischief in his eye.

“Do you want me to tie you up more?”

You tap his forehead with two fingers. “If I were into that, you’d know by now.”

He pretend-bites your fingers the next time you poke him. “Things can change.”

“Fair,” you reply. You pause, and then you look at him suspiciously. “You have ropes in your bag, don’t you?”

Izuku laughs frankly at the accusation. “I actually don’t, but I’ll keep that in the back of my mind… Plus Blackwhip is always handy.”

You can feel your face grow hot and he pats your face teasingly.

“I have other things packed, though.” Izuku grins.

That’s how you end up, spine curled into a C and legs raised with ankles by your head, panting and trembling as Izuku intermittently presses a vibrator against your clit.

“Come on, one more for me, baby,” he pleads, kissing the sweat on your brow as he holds your wrists above your head with one hand and torments your pussy with the other. Your voice comes out in soft cries as you try to recover from muscles clenching around nothing every time he makes you cum, swallowing the noises that slip out of your throat in orgasm with a kiss.

“I d-don’t have any more!” you cry, tears at the corner of your eyes. He gives you a long look and switches off the vibrator, and the last few pulses threaten to send you over the edge again. You’re too tired to wriggle out of the position and he doesn’t move you, keeping you in place.

“Temperature?” he asks.

You consider for a moment despite your lust-filled haze.

“Hot,” you finally decide. He smiles then bites your lip before switching the vibrator back on.

---

“I don’t want to leave,” you say first.

The two of you watch the stars around a small bonfire and share bites of cake that is slightly too sweet for his liking and slightly too heavy for your liking but somehow neither of you can get enough of. He says nothing but nuzzles into your neck more as you cuddle.

It’s surprisingly quiet and melancholy now, as if just a couple hours ago you weren’t screaming his name, as if his thumbs weren’t just dug in the spaces where you back and your glutes meet as he gave you relentless backshots.

“I wish we could stay forever like this,” you continue, then you laugh. “But you’d get sick of me, wouldn’t you, Izuku?”

“Never.”

You turn to look at him. He sounds a little bit too serious. He’s not looking at you but at the fire ahead and you worry that he’s worrying about facing tomorrow yet again. Izuku has once told you that it’s not that he’s no longer nervous, but that the anxiety is less and less able to prevent him from acting the way his heart tells him to as time goes on.

His legs move first. Always. And yet, it doesn’t mean the fear is no longer not there. It creeps when the rush of adventure is no longer able to drown it out.

It creeps when he holds you like this.

“You’d get tired of me first,” he adds as he fixes his gaze onto you.

“You know that that’s ridiculous,” you giggle. But he isn’t laughing and the crackle of the fire is suddenly too loud.

“It isn’t. There’s a lot you can have that I can’t give you all the time.” He says. Your heart starting to race, you pull away from him just slightly and his hold on you releases just enough for you to turn and really face him.

“I don’t want anything else,” you insist.

“You should,” he says. The tone of his voice is a little quieter now, and then he repeats himself louder. “You should want someone who is present.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t say anything else because he knows you will argue away anything he tells you. So instead he sighs, not wanting to ruin the last few hours of vacation.

“Someday, it’ll just be this,” he says, “and it’ll be more than enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “I promise.”

You believe him. You know what he means by this intrinsically, as though you were in his head. A space for just the two of you and nothing to worry about. Where you can grow old together, where you are no longer weighed down by what you have yet to achieve and what you have already accomplished.

---

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

You know he does. You know, and if for even a second you forget, he will tell you over and over and over again.

Your fingers intertwine with his and you sigh, back arching as you open up for him. You fit together perfectly, again and again and again. Forever.

There’s a deep flush in his cheeks as he whispers words of praise into your skin. Another year passes and your love only continues to grow, tended to or not.

“I love you too, Izuku. Happy birthday.”

---

“The second my phone turns on, she’s gonna call me, watch,” you joke, as you open up the phone safe. 48 hours are up, and yes your legs are wobbly, but the red string of Fate that ties you two no longer frays. As expected, there is a flurry of texts that blow up your phone, and as Izuku prepares the car, you try to see which one you can respond to first.

I set the timer by the way 👶🍼. May the odds ever be in your favor.

gtfoooooo 💀, you text back to Shinsou’s favorite rope bunny. But as you watch your husband disappear into the distance, you think that it might not be so bad to have a little one.

“So how many?”

The expected phone call arrives while the two of you are back on the road.

“How many what?” you ask suspiciously. Izuku glances at you with curiosity.

“Orgasms? What else?” she clarifies, and you’re immediately flustered, practically able to see the mischievous smile on her face. Izuku hears it through the end of the receiver and laughs, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Izuku, do not answer-”

“Whatever Bakugou’s capable of plus one,” he says loudly, leading in.

“Bullshit!” your friend shouts back, and you can hear her already shuffling to tell Bakugou and you sigh.

“I’m hanging up,” you announce before an argument begins.

“Why babe?” Izuku whines, but the phone clicks off and he laughs even louder. “He’s gonna be thinking about that all night.”

“Don’t pick up the phone,” you say, but a smile forms on your face. You look forward and the sun is setting on the horizon as you drive next to Izuku.

It was a nice weekend. You’ll have many more to come.

Together.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku smut #pro hero deku smut #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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stellamancer · 4 months

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obligatory (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: haha. the valentine's fic. it's funny i still have to post halloween fic. maybe i'll finish this week since i'm off work. uh anyway, for those who say my posts, i'm kind of hesitant to post this for two reasons: 1) it's removed from context— like you can still get a feel of what is going on, but there's no explanation as for why and 2) due to reason 1 it's tonally different than usual, at least according to my beta reader. my eternal gratitude goes to @momodita who helped me workshop this fic and continues to demand i write more gojo fics despite denying being a gojo fucker.

contains: implied f!reader (no pronouns), the return of gojo's pov (a little less whacky this time lmao), jealous gojo (because those who know me know i can't get enough), light angst or whatever the hell is going on there. additionally, for those who don't know giri choco is chocolate you give out of obligation to your coworkers and honmei choco is chocolate you give to someone you have romantic feelings for. part of the infinite loop verse.

wc: 1.8k

“Here you go.”

Satoru graciously accepts Shoko’s offering: a thin, delicately wrapped box of Valentine’s Day chocolate. Naturally, it's giri choco; Satoru is well aware that Shoko would be caught dead before even thinking about giving Satoru honmei choco. That said, it looks like she's given more thought to her gift this year— the last few years she's just handed him a gourmet chocolate bar from some high end chocolatier. Actually, the last time she'd given him something wrapped up like this was…

“There better not be any liquor in this,” Satoru says in a petulant tone reminiscent of his high school days.

Shoko merely laughs. “As if I'd waste something like that on you.”

There's no way she’s forgotten how sick Satoru got the one time she did give him liquor filled chocolates. Not only had it made him sick to his stomach, it'd given him the worst headache of his entire life. If it were up to Satoru, liquor filled chocolates wouldn't even exist. “Welllll, thanks for the chocolate. I'll be sure to get you something good next month.”

Shoko gives him a relaxed smile. “Looking forward to it, Gojo.”

Knowing Shoko, she'll want liquor as usual. Maybe the same bottle of shochu that he got last year? She liked that, but then again, the same gift twice would be boring and Satoru is not about that. Whatever it is will be a little pricey, but Satoru doesn't mind it one bit— anything for one of his oldest friends.

Having given Satoru her yearly offering of chocolate, Shoko shoos him away so she can actually get to work. Satoru considers ambling around for another hour or two, but Ijichi will probably have a heart attack if he delays his mission briefing any longer. The sooner he does it the better, he guesses. Satoru starts sauntering toward the assistant managers’ office to find Ijichi, pulling at the ribbon on the box he received from Shoko as he goes. Inside are two rows of perfectly round chocolate truffles and Satoru picks one at random and pops it into his mouth. It's filled with a sweet raspberry cream that practically melts on his tongue. Shoko really went all out this year, but no matter how good these are they'd never match up to anything homemade.

Though, when he thinks about it, Satoru supposes he won't be getting anything like that this year.

When he gets to the assistant managers’ office he easily finds Ijichi, who, for once, is not bent over a mountain of paperwork, and with him is—

You.

Handing Ijichi a box of chocolates.

For some reason, Satoru suddenly feels very, very annoyed.

“Well, well, well,” he says, the volume of his voice louder than intended, but he doesn't care. “What do we have here?”

Ijichi whirls around and lets out a squeak, his face red as can be. He starts to blubber and it almost feels like Satoru's caught him in the middle of something more illicit than receiving chocolates. If Satoru weren't feeling so annoyed, he'd find the whole sight rather funny.

You, on the other hand, are far calmer, indifferent even, as a slight frown mars your features. Something about it makes Satoru's blood burn hot.

“Did I just interrupt a heartfelt love confession?” Satoru asks dryly and Ijichi starts to freak out even more, and while Satoru notices the slightest twitch of your eye, you remain impassive.

“I hope you like the chocolates,” you tell Ijichi, outright ignoring Satoru and somehow that makes Satoru's blood run even hotter. “I kept in mind what you said about last year's so they're not as sweet.”

“Thank you!” Ijichi squeals and you give the man a sympathetic smile before you head toward the door where Satoru's standing. He knows he's blocking the way, but he doesn't move.

Will you say something to him?

You don't.

Instead, you keep your head down and squeeze past him. Or try to. You brush against his side and Satoru doesn't miss the way your body jolts when you make physical contact with him. But it only lasts a second, and when that second ends, Satoru tries to ignore the feeling of bitterness rapidly spreading throughout his chest.

He means to say something, anything to you, but the words get caught in his throat.

By the time they free themselves, you're already gone.

Satoru sighs and saunters over to Ijichi, who's been taking deep breaths to calm down after Satoru's little bout of teasing. He leans against one of the desks and crosses his arms. “So, you had a mission for me?”

“Right! Yes!” Ijichi squeaks again and takes a deep breath before he starts to explain. Satoru only half listens to the briefing, his attention more focused on the little box sitting on Ijichi’s desk. The mere sight of it spurs a complicated set of feelings. He doesn't understand. You've been giving Ijichi chocolates every Valentine's ever since you moved to Tokyo and it's never bothered him before so why now?

“Um, Gojo?”

“What?” Satoru almost snaps.

Ijichi doesn't answer right away, instead he clears his throat and then says. “It's giri choco.”

Satoru scowls. Of course it is. It's not like you'd give Ijichi honmei choco. You don't see him like that. “I know that.”

Ijichi swallows thickly. Nervously. “Just making sure.”

Then he falls silent, the air between them now terribly awkward.

“...do you want some?” Ijichi asks.

“It's your chocolate.”

“I don't mind sharing,” Ijichi says, reaching over and opening the box to reveal your homemade chocolates. They're nowhere near as perfectly round as the ones Shoko bought for Satoru, but he can tell you put effort into making sure they looked presentable. “Help yourself.”

Even Satoru isn't terrible enough to steal an entire box of chocolates meant for another man, but he does grab the nicest looking one and tosses it into his mouth.

It's bitter; a mix of dark chocolate and black coffee that's not only completely unpalatable to Satoru, but disturbingly reminiscent of the bitter feeling that's now threatening to eat him whole. He almost wants to spit it out.

But he doesn't.

Satoru swallows it all.

The mission is uneventful, absurdly easy even, though Satoru took a little longer than he needed to by toying with the curses a little prior to exorcising them. Some would consider it a touch cruel, but Satoru doesn't care. Anything to rid himself of that pesky feeling from earlier.

If it were up to him, he would have headed straight home afterwards, but Yaga had asked him to come back and do some paperwork. Satoru had tried to reason with him, tell him he'd just do it tomorrow but the principal was insistent.

Satoru trudges to his office and throws open the door. Inside, someone lets out a surprised yelp.

It’s you.

Again.

Both you and Satoru stare at each other in surprise. Given that you've been avoiding both him and this entire corridor like the plague for the past two months, you're the last person he’d expect to find in his office, hovering over his desk. And yet…

You look away from Satoru, your expression awkward. This isn't like your encounter in the assistant manager's office earlier; you can't just walk out of his office without an explanation of why you're there.

Well, you can try, but it's not like Satoru will let you.

“Weren’t you supposed to be out on an assignment?” you finally ask. Satoru thinks you mean to sound annoyed, but your tone is watered down.

“I was, but it was so easy I could have done it blindfolded.”

Normally, you'd just roll your eyes or snap back about how he's a show off or his jokes are shit, but you remain quiet. He shouldn't be surprised, but it still makes him feel weird. Almost sad. Almost empty.

“Principal Yaga asked me to leave some paperwork on your desk,” you say, sounding uncharacteristically meek.

Satoru frowns a little. Yaga, huh? He never pegged him as a meddler. Satoru approaches the desk to look at the paperwork in question; he grimaces— it's a whole freaking stack.

You start to shuffle away from Satoru and toward the door as Satoru flips through all the papers. “Anyway, if you'll excuse me—”

“Wait a sec.” Satoru says and you glance back at him in confusion. There's something peeking out from under the stack of papers. Satoru gingerly fishes it out, revealing a familiar looking box. He holds it up and adds, “Did you leave this too?”

A myriad of varying emotions flashes across your face before you settle on an awkward sort of embarrassment. “I… did.”

It's weird. Satoru didn't expect you to be so straightforward given that under normal circumstances you always choose to be as obstinate as possible. Which Satoru doesn't mind in the slightest; it makes things exciting. There are few things more fun than prying the truth out of you with whatever means necessary. Answering him so readily like this… almost feels wrong.

“I accidentally made too much,” you explain.

Satoru stares at you. It’s not an excuse, not a lie. Honestly, adjusting the amounts to account for one less person probably slipped your mind until it was too late. You could have done anything with the extra chocolate, given more to each person, eaten it yourself, but instead…

You still chose to give it to him.

Satoru tries to ignore the strange feeling stirring in his chest.

“Anyway, eat it if you want, toss it if you don’t,” you add, almost hurriedly as you move closer to the door. You give a quick bow to excuse yourself and before Satoru can say anything else, you run off.

His eyes remain glued to the empty doorway where you were just standing for a second before looking back at the box of chocolates you left for him. Carefully, he unties the ribbon and pulls off the lid. Just like Ijichi’s chocolates, the ones in his box aren’t perfect, but something about them looks nicer than the ones Ijichi got. Satoru wonders if you consciously put in a little more effort when you’d realized you had extra. The thought makes him chuckle a little.

He delicately plucks one from the box and pops it into his mouth. It’s sweet, infused with a hint of strawberry and vanilla that makes Satoru crave even more. As soon as he’s done with the first he shoves another into his mouth, and then another. With each chocolate he eats, the painful feeling in his chest grows, but he ignores it.

Before he knows it, the chocolates are all gone. Satoru licks his lips, hoping for one last taste of that strawberry vanilla sweetness only to find nothing. All he has left is the empty box and an aching heart.

if you read this whole thing, thank you and i hope you enjoyed it.

also yes, shoko got chocolates (tomo choco) too. they were similar to ijichi's, but with liquor instead of coffee.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #infinite loop!verse

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saccharinesunsetretired · 7 months

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Forever & Always | cowboy!Wilbur x Reader

Wrote this one over the course of the past week. Feels so good to write again :) Sorry for being so incredibly absent the past few months. Blame my university. Also this fic is written for @abbs-writes-nsfw's cowboy!Wilbur. Hope I did your cowboy justice <3

Summary: Wilbur finally makes it to the state championship in barrel racing, although he seems off afterward. Thankfully, you always know how to cheer him up.

Warnings/Tags: Smut, a tiny bit of angst and hurt/comfort (barely), oral sex (reader receiving), good ol' riding a cowboy, mostly fluffy, soft sex, reader is afab but gender neutral

Word Count: 4.8k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

Inside of a massive, indoor, horse-riding arena, you sat on the stands. It was a crowded event, the audience having come from a variety of places throughout the entire state. The crowds cheered and the announcer’s voice blared over the speakers. “And next up, our first-time, state championship competitor…”

You were hardly paying attention. Instead, your eyes searched for Wilbur, who you knew was just behind the gate to the arena, sitting atop his prized horse. The crowd was cheering, the place full of people. It was the yearly barrel racing championship. Your boyfriend had been preparing for this for years, trying again and again to make it to the state finals, but never quite doing it.

This was finally his year—-you were sure of it. You’d seen him race barrel patterns a million times now, watched him and his prized mare wind effortlessly between the obstacles as if they were one being. There was a sort of majesty to the movements, a dance that seemed effortless whenever he did it. Sure, he’d taught you how to ride, but you couldn’t ride like he could. He’d been working at this his entire life.

It’s rather stereotypical, he’d said once. The ranch boy who grows up wanting to be a barrel racing champion. And then he’d paused, biting his lip as he gazed nervously at his horse. I just hope I get to be one of the ones who actually does it.

There had never been a doubt in your mind that he could. As the gates to the arena opened, Wilbur and his horse came dashing into it. At a speed so quick that your eyes could hardly follow the movements, they rounded the first barrel, then the second. You watched as the horse dashed all the way across the area, kicking up dust in its wake. The crowd cheered. You joined them. Despite your anxiety for him (you knew how devastated he would be if he lost), you smiled and cheered louder than all the rest.

There was no way that he could hear you; you knew that. And yet, you tried. At least he knew that you were there. You watched as he continued, the announcer carrying on his commentary on the performance.

And then, as soon as it started, it was over. Wilbur rode his horse out of the arena just as fast as he had entered it. The announcer called it “a perfect run.” The total time for the run was only eleven seconds, the fastest run so far.

The rest of the races crawled by. It seemed like an eon before all the races were over. You sat in the stands the entire time, watching the other racers, zoning out. Only one other racer had managed Wilbur’s eleven-second time, but she got a penalty for knocking over a barrel, meaning Wilbur still had more points.

Your heart pounded. Wilbur had won, right? Or had you zoned out and missed one? You couldn’t remember. As the announcer walked to the center of the arena, microphone in hand, you waited, hardly able to breathe. So many hours put into this sport…you couldn’t bear to see Wilbur lose.

“And the winner of the state barrel racing championship is…” The announcer checked his notebook before looking back up at the crowd. “Wilbur Soot!”

You cheered so loud that you nearly gave yourself hearing damage. A couple nearby audience members gave you startled looks, but you hardly noticed. All you could think about was the fact that he’d finally done it. You stood up, clapping and cheering for him, watching as he walked into the arena and claimed his ribbon.

You’d watched him succeed at the local level, then the regional level, and now the state level. Next, he could go on to national championships if he wanted (and you knew he would). You couldn’t have wiped the smile off your face even if you tried. You saw the smile on Wilbur’s face even from your spot in the audience, the joy that radiated off every inch of him. He thanked the announcer before walking back out of sight.

After the audience filed out of the arena, you got a text from Wilbur.

Out by the truck. Meet me there

You smiled and tucked your phone back in your pocket before practically running out to the parking lot behind the arena. The second you caught sight of him, you rushed into his arms. He laughed as he picked you up off the ground.

You giggled and wrapped your legs around him to help him hold you. “I told you you’d do it,” you said breathlessly.

“I fucking did it,” he replied. His tone was almost surprised, as if it was a shock to him. And perhaps it was, but it certainly wasn’t a shock to you. “I still can’t process it.”

You laughed softly, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he set you down. “I’m really happy for you, Wil.”

Wilbur was absolutely beaming. In the weeks leading up to the championship, he’d hardly smiled at all. “Thank you, darlin’,” he said. He gave you a quick kiss. “Now give me a second. I gotta make sure the horse trailer is still hooked to the truck.”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need a better trailer…” Your eyes fell on the old truck, Wilbur’s first ever car that he still used. The paint was blue and peeling off its frame. Wilbur had called it a “proper farm truck,” although you saw it primarily as a safety hazard.

“I know, I know,” Wilbur said as he checked the hitch. “It all looks good, though.”

You wandered behind the truck to the horse trailer, where Wilbur’s horse could be seen trying to poke her head out between the window bars. You laughed and gave her nose a quick pet. “Looks like Annie isn’t happy being locked up,” you said.

Wilbur sighed. “She never is.” He opened up the passenger side door of the truck and motioned for you to get in. “She’ll be fine. She’s gotta be worn out, anyway.”

You shook your head, smiling as you got in the truck. “Nah. That horse has always got energy.”

“Maybe.” Wilbur shut the door and continued talking only when he got into the driver’s seat. “But I have been working her hard.” He frowned. “Poor girl hasn’t had many breaks.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “She’ll get a nice break after this.”

Wilbur started up the truck. “Yeah,” he said quietly. The truck’s engine roared to life, making a few concerning mechanical sounds as it did so.

Something about Wilbur seemed…off. He looked almost deflated. You weren’t sure if it was simply the adrenaline wearing off or if there was something more to it. As he drove the truck out of the parking lot and started down the road, you couldn’t help but be worried at the sight of his expressionless and unreadable face. You could almost always read him, but you were at a loss.

“You alright?” you asked.

“Of course,” he replied. “I mean, I just won the state championship. I’ve been working at that for years.”

“And yet,” you said, “you don’t seem happy.”

“I am,” he said, unconvincingly. “I…it’s all I’ve ever wanted, you know?”

“Is it just not as good now that you have it?”

“It’s great,” Wilbur said. “It’s awesome. Now can we please just…talk about anything else?” He definitely looked tense, his usual, relaxed posture nowhere to be found. He’d also raised his voice the tiniest bit, which he never did with you before. It was a hardly noticeable change, but a change nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you replied quietly. You looked out the window. It was late evening, and the sun was going down. The drive back to the ranch would take about two hours, and it seemed that it was going to be a long one.

Wilbur turned the radio on. Some country song that you didn’t recognize played over the speakers—-an old Johnny Cash tune that you couldn’t place. Wilbur loved Johnny Cash, but he wasn’t singing. He wasn’t even humming.

You thought he would be ecstatic. He looked ecstatic. Holding that ribbon in the center of the arena, he looked beyond happy. When he’d scooped you into his arms in the parking lot, he seemed happier than ever.

What changed? The only thing you could think of was that your presence had somehow ruined things. The thought worried you. You glanced over at Wilbur, but he wasn’t even looking your way. Maybe you hadn’t been supportive enough. Maybe you’d pressed him too hard, given him too much pressure, stressed him out. You wanted to apologize, but you weren’t sure what to apologize for. You’d done everything right…or at least, you hoped so.

Two hours passed in near-silence except for the songs on the radio. You tried to make small talk, but your attempts quickly fell flat. It was a relief when the truck finally hit the familiar dirt road that led to the ranch.

The truck rolled up the road and toward the barn. When it finally came to a stop, Wilbur murmured something about needing to put Annie in her stall.

You rested a hand on his shoulder. “I can take care of Annie if you want,” you said softly. “Just go inside and get some rest, maybe.”

He nodded and gave you a small, weak smile. “Thanks, darlin’.” He paused, glancing away before his soft eyes met yours again. “I’m sorry for…for being…”

“It’s okay,” you said, “but can we talk about it when I get inside?”

“Of course.” He gave you a quick kiss before climbing out of the truck. You sighed to yourself and got out as well.

For a moment, you watched as Wilbur walked up to the house. You then turned to open the door of the horse trailer. Once you did, Annie looked at you curiously. “Hey, girl,” you said softly. “Time to get you home.” You approached her and slipped her halter over her head so that you could lead her into the stall. She nearly ran you over as you led her out of the trailer, so happy to not be cooped up anymore.

She was a good horse. Caramel-colored, built sturdy, with a small, white spot on her nose. Wilbur had rescued her from a horse sale. She was so scrawny back then, a poor, mistreated thing. I’m gonna make her into a prize-winning barrel horse, he’d said. Everyone thought he was crazy trying to turn such a wild mare into a champion, but he managed to do it. Annie had become the sweetest horse around, with endless amounts of energy. The perfect horse for Wilbur.

You opened the gate to her stall and tucked her inside. You removed her halter, checked her water and her hay, gave her a few pats, and left the barn. Wilbur had a few horses, Annie and two others that he was training up to sell for a profit. After rescuing Annie, he’d decided to do the same for more horses, giving them better lives and then selling them to good homes. He’d promised that after those two were sold, he would buy you a horse of your own. Something sturdy. Good for trail rides, he told you. He’d been begging you to go trail riding with him, and you were more than excited for it. In the meantime, you just had to figure out what was bothering him.

You walked up to the house, coming in the back door. The ranch house was relatively small, cozy in a rustic sort of way. Wilbur had inherited it from some uncle of his who passed away, and there were still vintage photos and artwork on the walls. The kitchen cabinets were worn and faded, and the furniture had been in terrible shape until Wilbur saved up to replace it. The back door led into the kitchen, and from there, you could walk down the hallway, past the living room and to the bedroom.

When you entered the bedroom, Wilbur was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was still dressed in his rodeo gear. He looked up at you, and this time, his smile was less forced. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey you.” You sat down beside him. “Annie is settled in the barn.”

“Did you double-check the gate latch?” he asked, “Because you know that thing doesn’t close—-”

“I checked it,” you said. “It’s all good.” You gently took his hand. “Now what’s wrong?”

He looked down at the floor, unable to meet your eyes. “...I don’t think I…no, I know I don’t want to go to nationals.”

You couldn’t hide the surprised expression on your face. “I…what? But you’ve been working at this for years.”

“I know,” he said. “I…I get that you’re probably confused. I just…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m tired of it. It’s not fun. It all feels like a chore. And these past few months, I feel like all I’ve done is run barrel patterns again and again and again. I’m just so tired of it. It’s not worth it anymore.” He sighed. “And I don’t want to travel around, going to rodeos. I want to just stay here on the ranch with you rather than dragging you everywhere.”

“I never minded it,” you said. “I don’t feel like I’m being dragged.” You leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder. He leaned into the touch. “But, Wil, if you’re done with racing, I support you. I may not understand fully, but I support it.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Let me put it this way,” he said slowly. “I’ve found something else I want to do.”

That made you perk up a little. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He immediately seemed a little happier, a little more himself. “Do you remember when I bought Annie from the horse sale, and she was all…you know. Not in good shape?”

“Of course I do,” you said. “You were so excited to train her up.”

“And I did,” he said. “And I…loved doing that. Rescuing a horse, giving her a better life, and training her up.” He smiled, more to himself than anything else. “I want to keep doing it. Keep buying horses out of shitty situations, training them up, and selling them to good homes. It makes me some money, but it also saves these horses from potentially being put down and gives them something to do, you know?”

You smiled softly at that. “You did really like training Annie. And she’s a fantastic horse now.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I think it’s a good plan.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you, his expression somewhat worried. “What if…I don’t know. What if I’m not good at it?”

You laughed softly, bringing another smile to his lips. “I’ve seen you train horses, Wil. You were raised training horses. You’re good at it. And I think you’ll be really happy doing that. Plus, I think it’d stress you out a lot less than barrel racing.”

He let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.” He gave you a kiss on the forehead. “So you’re alright with it? Me shifting gears like that?”

“I’m more than happy with it,” you said. “I’m proud of you, Wil. You’ve worked hard, you’ve done good. You deserve to choose whatever path forward you want.”

He smiled at that. “Thank you, hun. Nobody supports me quite like you do.” He paused, and then a small smirk came to his face. “You know…I did just win the state championship today…”

“Oh? Does my cowboy want a reward?” you asked teasingly. You figured earlier that he’d eventually say something of the sort. You teasingly flicked the brim of his hat, nearly knocking it off his head.

“I think he deserves one, wouldn’t you say?” Wilbur grinned, and just like that, he was back to the Wilbur that you knew, the Wilbur you fell in love with. Cocky, teasing, sarcastic, but simultaneously as soft as they came.

“Maybe he’ll get a reward,” you said. You gently took off his hat, holding it in your hand as you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling your faces close together. “If he asks nicely.”

Wilbur shrugged. “Seems to be a fair tradeoff.” He gave you a quick kiss. “So, darlin’, would you please give a reward to this poor, lonesome cowboy?”

You laughed. “I would hardly call you poor or lonesome.”

“I would be without you,” he said.

“Well, thankfully this ‘poor, lonesome cowboy’ asked very nicely,” you said. You gently took Wilbur’s hat off his head and set it on the bedside table. “So yeah, I think I’ve got a reward or two to spare.”

“Then he’s very lucky,” Wilbur said. He pressed his lips to yours, and you immediately reciprocated. His hand rested on your lower back before pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your other arm around his neck, one of your hands playing with his messy curls. His hands both went to your waist, pulling you close against him. It was as if no amount of closeness would be enough, like he needed your bodies to melt into one in order for him to come anywhere near satisfaction.

His tongue met yours, and you let out a soft hum as he continued to kiss you. His hands on your waist were gentle: firm, but soft. You could easily get away if you wanted to (but of course, that was the last thing on your mind). You cupped his cheeks, gentle fingers resting upon his skin. His lips were soft, gently touching yours. Even with tongue, the kiss was lazy and soft, more a tender meeting than a passionate one.

He sighed between kisses, pulling away just slightly to get some air. “I love you,” he said quietly. “Just wanted you to know.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I know. And I love you too.” Your lips met again, this time somewhat more desperate. You heard Wilbur hum softly against your lips as you kissed, a sound almost like a moan. He was often vocal in softer moments like this one, which you loved every time.

His hands slipped beneath your shirt, and you held back a gasp. He pulled away once again. “Can I take this off?” he asked, brown eyes looking at you in the warm lighting of the bedroom.

“Please.” Your hands reached for the hem of your shirt as soon as he did, and you helped him pull it over your head. His lips immediately went to your neck, pressing soft kisses along the length of it. His lips went to your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he could easily reach. Your hands went back to his hair, running through his curls as you let out soft sighs and moans. You couldn’t help but start to rock your hips against him, grinding against his lap, to which he responded with a quiet laugh.

“Not very patient, are you?” he asked teasingly.

“Not tonight, no.” You reached for the bandana tied around his neck and untied it before tossing it aside. “That's okay with you?”

“I’m definitely not complaining,” he said. His fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, an elaborate western shirt with fringe and embroidery. He had complained about having to wear flashy rodeo gear. You, on the other hand, were a big fan of it.

It didn’t take long for you both to get his shirt off, then his undershirt. His belt went next, although you had some trouble getting it off considering how shaky your fingers had become. There was eagerness and excitement flooding through you, knowing what was to come. You unbuttoned his jeans as he unbuttoned yours, and without much more thought given to it, you stripped yourself of them.

He gazed at you, eyes wandering your body. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. His voice was quiet, almost reverent. Many people in these parts were religious. Wilbur had never been that way. Why would I worship a god, he’d said, if I could worship you instead?

It seemed that the same thought was running through his head. His hands gently ran down your sides as he gazed lovingly at you. “Let me get you ready,” he murmured as he kissed your jaw. You nodded wordlessly, at a loss for what to say. He didn’t seem to mind, easing you onto your back and pulling down your underwear by the waistband until it was discarded on the floor along with the rest of your clothing.

He kissed his way down your body, taking extra time with your chest and the insides of your thighs. You squirmed a little, frustrated by the tease, but he held you down gently with his hands on your hips. It only took him another few seconds to bring his tongue to your folds, licking and kissing the sensitive skin.

You moaned, lips sealed shut to try and prevent the sound from escaping. After a few more attempts to quiet yourself, you gave up and let yourself go. Wilbur became even more enthusiastic after that. His hand found yours, and he held it gently in his hand as he continued with his mouth. He alternated between licking your folds and teasing your entrance with his tongue to lightly circling your clit. Your free hand gripped the sheets. Wilbur moaned against you, and the vibration sent tingles up your spine.

“Feels so good, Wil,” you said, panting. “Keep going.” Your hand got a small squeeze in response, a signal that he definitely wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He spent some more time kissing and licking near your entrance before finally focusing in on your clit.

He licked it a few times, light and teasing, before properly sucking on the skin. You cried out, hips twitching against his face. You thought you heard him chuckle, felt the vibration of it against your skin, but you weren’t sure. Your mind was too foggy, too lost in pleasure to fully process anything he said.

His movements got more eager, more rough. Before long, you were gasping, back slightly arched, gripping his hand tight in one hand and the sheets in the other. You murmured an incoherent string of pleas before finally climaxing, letting out a few moans and small cries as Wilbur slowed his movements to a stop.

He kissed the insides of your thighs and let go of your hand. He got out from between your legs, opting instead to lay beside you and pepper your face and neck in kisses as you came back to reality.

“You alright, darlin’?” he asked. His voice was hardly above a whisper and honey-sweet.

You smiled, cupping his cheek before giving him a soft kiss. “Perfect,” you said. “Now grab a condom before I get impatient again.”

He laughed and kissed the tip of your nose before complying, rolling to the other side of the bed, opening a bedside drawer, and grabbing one. He tugged his boxers off, revealing how hard he was. You watched with thinly veiled eagerness as he rolled the condom on.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?” he teased.

You shrugged. “My mother also told me not to date cowboys, so I’m not on a great track record when it comes to following her orders.”

Wilbur smiled. “Clearly I was right earlier when I said I was lucky.”

“That makes two of us.” You kissed him again. “Alright, lean against the headboard a little.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You takin’ charge tonight, sweetheart?”

“If it’s alright with you,” you said. “You’ve been working hard. The least I can do is help out a bit.” You winked, and he chuckled in response.

“Again, I’m not complaining.” He leaned against the headboard as you got on top of him, straddling him. You watched his face as you sunk down onto him—-the way his breath hitched, his mouth fell slightly open, and his eyes closed. “Jesus…”

You giggled, leaned down to give him a kiss, and started to move. At first, your hips lazily moved back and forth against him. His hands rested on your hips, gently guiding your motions. You reveled in the way he looked at you. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes unfocused. You couldn’t resist leaning forward briefly to give him a quick kiss before starting to move again.

You moved in small circles on top of him. One of Wilbur’s hands moved up to your waist, and he lazily smiled up at you. His smile quickly turned to an open-mouthed moan as you started to move up and down, slow and almost teasing.

His hand slid back down to your hips before sliding it between your legs and rubbing your clit. It took everything in you to keep moving despite the stimulation. You made a few clumsier movements as you tried to keep yourself upright. Wilbur chuckled at your predicament. “Too much, sweet thing?”

You shook your head rapidly. Truth be told, you felt dizzy. The combination of Wilbur’s cock filling you repeatedly as you moved up and down and his fingers on your clit had you seeing stars. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes and kept moving despite the fact that the muscles in your legs were starting to complain.

Your attempts to keep going faltered more as time went on and your muscles grew more and more tired. Wilbur kept rubbing your clit, circling it with his fingers. You were getting closer, but you could tell that Wilbur was having trouble getting there. You attempted to keep going, and gasped loudly when Wilbur thrust up into you.

“Let me help, darlin’,” he said between soft pants. He started thrusting up against your movements, keeping you going as he got you off.

That was all it took for you to finish. You kept moving clumsily as Wilbur’s fingers continued to work magic on your clit, helping to prolong your orgasm. You were vaguely aware of how loud you were moaning, but it was the last thing on your mind. All you could think about was the shivers going up your spine, the overwhelming feeling in your core, his fingers, his cock…

You realized quickly that you had practically slowed to a stop. Before you could start moving again, you felt his hand wrap around your back. Your world tilted as he flipped your positions effortlessly. It always surprised you how strong he was: a side effect of growing up on a ranch and doing hard labor, you supposed.

You let out a breathless giggle, and so did he. He immediately started moving again, trying to finish himself off. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your legs wrapped around his back. His breathing was heavy, and it only took him a few thrusts before he finished too. His hips stuttered, and you felt him twitch inside you. He groaned softly, burying his face in your neck. You rested your hand on the back of his head, gently combing through his hair as he settled against you, gasping softly.

For a few moments, you laid there, Wilbur resting against you. You played with his hair, and he kissed your neck softly. You could hear the quiet sounds of the crickets chirping outside and the whisper of Wilbur’s breathing. “I love you,” you murmured.

He kissed your jaw again. “I love you too.” He sighed softly before forcing himself to pull out. You let go of him as he moved away to pull off the condom and toss it in the bedside trash can. Before you could miss his absence, he was back by your side, pulling you gently against him.

You laid your head on his chest, and he rested an arm across your shoulders. You felt his lips kiss the top of your head. “Alright, lovely?” he asked.

“More than alright.” You snuggled closer and closed your eyes. “You?”

“I mean…it’s been a pretty damn good day for me,” he said. “And, um…” He paused, and you opened your eyes to look up at his face. “Thank you for everything. Being supportive all this time. It means the world to me.”

“Of course,” you replied. He leaned down and kissed you, and when you parted, he was smiling softly at you.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I’m yours, you know that?”

“I know.” You laid your head back down. “And I’m yours.”

“Forever?”

You smiled and closed your eyes as he kissed your forehead again. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I could do forever.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x reader smut #saccharine writes

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vvh0adie · 1 year

Text

strawberry kisses | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader | type: oneshot | words: 9.6k | rating: 18+ / M

Yoongi loves Summer. It’s a time of basking in the sun, feeling the beach breeze, and taking in the crisp scent of his favorite strawberry field during the annual market festival. He goes every year to pick fresh berries. And every year he watches from afar as you do the same, but he's never mustered the courage to properly talk to you. Good thing you finally have.

⇴ tracking: #fic: strawberry kisses | #strbrrykss: ask | #strbrrykss: feedback | #strbrrykss: mentioned | #strbrrykss: vibes

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The night is long and it seems as if it could go on forever. Slid down into his chair, Yoongi stares at blocks of colors stacked on top of one another, each holding a different sound from drums, to synthboards, to 808s. He’s been working on this track since before the sun came up. He continues to blink at the track, scrolling back and forth, thinking of how to fill the gaps.

He knows he didn’t sleep enough, but not finishing this track has been bothering him throughout the week. His temples are pounding and his eyes feel heavy too as he feels like someone is poking him in the back of the eye socket. It could partly be his fault as he’s sitting in his dark ass bedroom with his computer screen on full brightness and gazing upon his work without glasses. Really, he should have gone to his studio, but his body’s been content with just being here.

At the moment, Yoongi’s over it, clicking the save button and turning the computer off, watching as the little ring goes round in circles till the screen goes dark, leaving him to stare back at his own reflection. He looks a hot mess: just a sunken lump of ruffled hair and cat-like eyes as he’s tucked away into his hoodie, nose down. He feels like he needs a hot shower to ease his muscles from the absolute deadlock he’s placed his body in.

Yoongi swivels in his chair, turning towards the floor to ceiling window as he gazes up on the many skyscrapers clustered around, lit up with neon signs or office lights from remaining employees. His eyes shift, following cars till they're out of his sight, just for him to target another.

The city is beautiful at night, but he can’t help but feel out of place. He’s alone for most of the day, and barely sees his friends which you could say is partly his fault. But even with them, he feels like he’s just drifting along till the next big thing in his life happens.

Yoongi sighs, closing his eyes to listen to the bustling transportation. He feels himself about to drift off, when his phone vibrates against his hand, prompting him to pull both from his hoodie pocket.

He taps the screen, immediately turning away at the brightness. After quickly turning it down, he enters his password, redirected to his messages.

Joon: drinks with me and Hobi

Yoongi stares at the message from his friend. It’s been awhile since he’s seen them, and he knows he wants to see them but his body deems otherwise.

Suddenly, three little ellipses bounce on the screen.

Joon: really gonna leave me on read hyung?

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to the little ‘read’ label under Namjoon’s text. Then he sighs at the fact that he forgot to go in and change it.

Joon: our spot in 15

“Why? What if I don’t show up?” Yoongi says to his screen, sitting up as his body begins to pop. “Oh, shit.” He stretches his arms up, feeling his spine pop, shivers running through his entire body. He really shouldn't have sat like that. He rolls his neck, allowing for a pop to sound through the room.

After straightening up, he looks at his phone again, seeing that Namjoon hasn’t texted anymore. But that gives Hoseok all the more reason to try for himself.

Hobi: I know where you live 👁️

Yoongi chuckles at his friend’s remark. It’s always like Hoseok to try and get Yoongi out of the house. He knows for sure Hoseok will come and drag him out, but he doesn't really want his friends to see his home in complete disarray cause he knows they’ll never end up leaving till Hoseok is done tidying up like the ultimate cleaning fairy he is. Then, Namjoon will probably turn around and make him have a heart to heart as to why he’s been neglecting himself. Either way, they’re there for him, so the least he can do is show up for his friends -the only true ones he has actually.

“Come on, Yoongi. You can do it. Drinks then back to shower and sleep. Easy,” he says, slapping his cheeks.

Yoongi walks into the bar, greeted by a waitress as he bows back. He looks around, only for his name to be called. As he continues to search, there’s a couple of eyes on him and he really sticks out, deciding not to change much except combing his hair. He doesn’t even have a shirt on under his hoodie and he’s still wearing his flip flops.

“Yoongi, over here.” He turns, seeing Hoseok and Namjoon waving. He slowly walks over with his hands in his sweatpants.

Once at the table he throws them a little deuce before sitting down across from the duo.

“You look like shit.” Namjoon says, as he and Yoongi stare at each other.

“The dead has arisen. I didn’t think you were going to show up; let alone have your phone on,” Hoseok says.

“We haven't seen you in days, Hyung. Almost called for a wellness check; still think I need to though.” Namjoon quirks a brow, looking at his disheveled friend as he sips from a shot glass.

“Well, I'm alive.” Yoongi deadpans.

“Doesn't seem like it. You look paler than usual.” Hoseok chuckles.

“Maybe he’s dead and we’re just drunk enough to cross the spirit realm.” Namjoon giggles in a drunken stupor, causing the man in question to roll his eyes. A part of him wants to laugh at Joon’s stupid joke but he remains stoic, not having the energy to do so.

“Here, drink.” Hoseok pours his friends a shot. “Excuse me, miss, we need another bottle.” He holds up the empty soju at the waitress as she walks by.

“So, what you been up to?” Namjoon leans back, folding his arms.

“Producing.” Yoongi murmurs.

“That's very much apparent.” Namjoon glares at him for the obvious. He cares about Yoongi and he can clearly see the sleep deprivation hammered into his usually soft face. The dude looks like he just survived a withdrawal. It’s concerning.

“Yah! Tell us what's wrong?” Hoseok whines, after making a throaty sound from knocking back a shot.

“I don't know. I guess I’m just ready for summer vacation.”

“Why wait? You’re a freelancer; you can pick up and go anytime, Hyung.” Hoseok lays a hand on Yoongi's shoulder. Hobi’s lashes are heavy and his cheeks are slightly flushed. Yoongi gazes upon the younger’s face. Even when drunk, Hobi always has a solution.

“Where are you trying to go?” Namjoon stares at Yoongi taking a shot; just in time for the waitress to land a new bottle of soju on their table.

“The countryside.” Yoongi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Ah, gotcha.” Joon nods slowly, staring aimlessly at the table. Summer is Yoongi’s favorite season. He’s never really divulged why but it has to have some heavy significance. But Namjoon also understands that summer just hits different and that his friend needs a change in pace. To be honest, he’s started to feel it too; how slow everything has become.

“You gonna go be a farmer?” Hoseok laughs to which Yoongi tries to roll his eyes but ends up joining him. Hoseok claps, wearing the biggest grin. “There we go!” he yells, happy to see Yoongi smile.

Yoongi truly is happy about summer coming and it only took stepping out of the house for him to see that. He can’t wait to feel the warm sun on his skin and smell the crisp air. But most of all he can’t wait to spend time with his grandma and see new yet familiar faces. He has very fond memories of his childhood, helping her harvest from the garden, playing in the sprinklers, and eating watermelon outside. Then there’s the annual festivities that he loves so much.

“What about you guys?” Yoongi may be a little out of it but he still cares to ask and not make this entirely about himself.

Namjoon sits up, placing elbows on the table as he takes a shot. “I got a collab in New York. Probably do some sightseeing; go to a museum or two.”

Yoongi looks at Hoseok who grins before taking a shot and clapping his hands. “Dubai.”

“Dubai?”

“Yep! Sand, beach, camels, hot babes on my arm while I sip martinis. And get this… casual sex; no strings attached.”

“That sounds like you.” Yoongi smirks, picking up his glass. “Cheers, then.”

“To Summer Sex.” Hobi laughs.

“I don't know about that.” Yoongi says.

“Ah, Hyung. Have some faith, huh?” Namjoon frowns. It seems someone’s been manifesting a lay recently.

“Fine. To Summer… Sex.”

“Cheers,” they chime in unison, throwing one back.

Summertime has finally come, awakening Yoongi with its warm rays of sunlight. He stretches upwards as the sun shines on his face, a smile spreading on his lips at the warmth that wraps around him. Light dances across his skin, highlighting his golden undertone. He hasn’t woken up feeling this refreshed since he was a child; even better that he gets to wake up in his old childhood bedroom too.

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed to look around. The atmosphere is so serene that Yoongi’s heart nearly skips a beat at the lack of city sounds. He can’t help but laugh at himself.

With a sigh, he rests an elbow on his thigh as he lays his cheek upon his hand. He takes a deep breath, air feeling his lungs and nose with the crispest air. He thinks he could celebrate the air quality alone.

“Min Yoongi-ah!” His grandmother knocks on the door. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, Halmeoni.”

“Good. We have a lot to do today. Get ready and meet me in the kitchen.” Yoongi smiles, reminiscing how he used to dread the sound of his grandmother’s voice early in the morning, but now he sees it as a gift because he’s still able to see her everyday.

Yoongi hops out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom, surveying the hall. He’d hate to be indecent in front of his grandma.

Since coming to stay, he’s begun taking better care of his appearance, like he did prior to his slump. His hair has grown out to his shoulders and he’s refrained from dying it, letting his natural color come in. He feels more mature this way, but he also wants to avoid a scolding from his grandmother.

When he’s finished grooming, he makes his way to the kitchen, greeting the little old lady he adores so much.

“Good morning, Halmeoni.”

“Good morning, puppy.” She smiles at him as he mimics, right down to their gummy smile. People always wonder where he gets it from. His cheeks hurt from just how much it pleases him to be called the nickname he’s had since the woman learned his mother was pregnant. He likes it much better than being called a cat -which don’t get him wrong because he very much sees the appeal.

Halmeoni sits Yoongi’s breakfast down, petting his head as she coos about how much he looks like a nice young man. He thanks her, diving in to savor the meal.

He closes his eyes, humming at the taste on his buds as he taps the plate with his fork. “Delicious.”

“Really? I wasn’t sure if I should make a big meal or not.”

“No, Halmeoni. We need to eat light. You said we have a lot to do anyway.”

“Oh, my grandson, so considerate. You keep it up, you might meet a nice girl while you’re here,” she dotes.

Yoongi dips his head, taking another bite to hide his flushed face. The town is small where everyone knows each other and he’s practically lived here before, knowing most of the women as they never seemed to move after high school.

He thinks they’re nice but as much as he loves countryside living, he loathes some of the mindset that the locals have. He’s very much the type to go out and travel when he’s not in a rut, just so he can come home and be a homebody till the mood strikes again. Truthfully, he wants someone who can complement him. He hasn’t told his grandmother yet, but he definitely has his eyes set on someone.

After breakfast, Yoongi helps his grandmother clean the kitchen before heading out into the front yard.

He takes a deep breath of the warm, crisp air and closes his eyes. This is all he’s ever wanted and he’s starting to feel like he doesn’t want to go back to the city.

“OH MY GOODNESS! MIN YOONGI?!” He opens his eyes to see you speeding by on your bike as you disappear down the road. But then a screech followed by the pitter patter of your sneakers comes back as you roll your bike to park in front of the house. “Hi, Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi simply throws a hand up and a quaint smile. He looks so put together in his long sleeve, blue jeans, and brown work boots. And his hair catches the light, showing off the brownish undertones of his long locks. Even his hands stand out, tan and veiny from gripping the crates. He looks like a genuine small town country boy.

“Are you here for the annual market?” You smile weakly before biting your lip. Of course he is; he comes every year. Honestly, small talk is the only thing you can get from anyone around here.

“Yes.” Yoongi pops the tailgate of the truck to pull crates off.

“I’m going to be there too, but my booth is much bigger this time.”

“That’s nice,” he says, never looking at you as he stacks the crates.

“You should stop by. I’d love for you to come try my pastries. I’ve expanded since last year.” You tilt your head and lean, trying to get a look at his face. Even from behind the gate, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

“Sure.” Welp.

You know Yoongi’s rather laid back and very shy. You chalk it up to him not really interacting with much of the town except during the market. You know he used to go to school here but it's been a while since he moved away to the big city.

“Oh, well I look forward to seeing you there. I heard the Kim brothers are even setting up a booth for the wine business they started this year.”

“Yeah, I know.” Of course he’d know; they’re his friends.

Silence stirs; just the sound of crates hitting each other, a light breeze, and chirping birds. It feels awkward and intrusive to just stand here and gawk at him.

“Well… I have to head back to my shop.” He stacks crates. “Bye.”

He bows to you before picking up the crates and heading into the house; leaving you standing there to watch. You feel your chest tighten and swallow the lump in your throat.

Yoongi walks down the corridor, listening to the sound of your bike grow further from him. Then he sets the crates near the back door to the garden, afterwards crouching down as he covers his face. “Yeah, I know?” he mumbles into his hand. ‘YEAH, I KNOW’?! What the absolute fuck kinda response is that?!

“Puppy?” Yoongi looks up at his sweet grandmother’s face.

“I’m fine, Halmeoni; I’m just a little hot.” It's true that he’s hot but that's only because he’s furious with himself and still slightly anxious from having to speak with you. He’s literally sweating like a pig from how nervous he was.

“Halmeoni will get you some water, but sweetheart you should go lay down.” Halmeoni pats him on the head before going to the kitchen.

Yoongi can only imagine that this is a taste of Hell and surely he isn’t ready for the eternal flame that he very much deserves. How could he be an absolute dickhead to you? HOW?!

The sky is blue, birds are chirping, adults are in community, and children are laughing all while the sun lays a warm blanket over the land and a cool breeze sweeps through to aid in a relaxing day.

And one Min Yoongi can’t stop smiling as the apples of his cheeks hurt. He doesn’t know why he’s smiling but it just seems like the right time. And for once, he doesn’t really mind others greeting him with a gentle smile as well.

“Puppy, help Halmeoni get the crates.” Yoongi looks over to see his grandmother trying to pick up a crate of tangerines by herself.

“I got it.” He goes to take it from her but she turns away.

“I’m not that old, you know.” Yoongi’s brows raise. “I move better than you young ‘uns.”

“Sorry, Halmeoni.” Yoongi swiftly picks up a crate of his own this time and follows in behind his grandmother as he looks around.

The whole market is covered by a giant tent that’s supposed to shield the produce and festival goers away from the sun. Yoongi likes the steady breeze flowing from under the tent, but he does hate how dark it is. He’d rather much be in the field picking fruits and vegetables.

“It looks like the Kim brothers were serious when they said they’d be selling wine.” Halmeoni sets down the crates on a clothed table, looking behind Yoongi. He does the same, seeing their empty stand, but knowing very well it is in fact their station just by the use of silk, velvet, and gold decorations everywhere and professionally made menu posters.

“Who sells wine in the summer?” Halmeoni shakes her head before heading back to the truck.

“The Kim cousins. I’ll be damned if I call them brothers.” He says under his breath. He almost goes to follow his grandmother till she sees a couple of high school volunteers show up.

This is the perfect time to dip and go see what this wine is all about. Yoongi lightly jogs to the unoccupied booth now closing in on the two enormous barrels with taps sitting on the table and the display case of what seems to be summer inspired wines. Most of them are berries, so it can’t be that bad.

He carefully picks up a bottle and checks the alcohol content. As much as the Kims get on his nerves sometimes, they’re actually funny guys and great business men, so Yoongi’s glad to support them in their endeavors.

“Hey, Kookie, can you hang this up for me, please?’ Yoongi immediately sets the bottle down, looking around in search of your melodic voice again.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Yoongi’s broods at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. When he finally has eyes on the two of you. Jungkook is throwing a cloth over a bar, while your hand is on his stomach as you begin to laugh. Yoongi doesn't know what you see in the boy, but he’s never seen you upset over him. So that is something he can give the kid.

“Minie, be careful. Don’t get hurt.” Yoongi watches your other friend, Jimin, set down a stack of pink pastry boxes as he lets out an over dramatic grunt.

“Come rub my back,” He says slumping into a chair.

“No can do, I’m gonna go look at the funky shaped watermelons.” You grab your basket and walk off.

“She better be glad that her friendship is enough.” Jimin cranes his neck to look up at Jungkook.

“Whatchu mean? We get free snacks, too.” Jungkook looks at him with doe-eyes, causing Jimin to grin. It seems your charms can swoon over any man.

Yoongi knows it’s toxic but having Jungkook and Jimin as your friends and employees makes him feel a little bit better about his chances with you. Which may be slim to none, but at least he knows there's a chance that they also don’t like anyone who fancies you.

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Yoongi jumps at his friend Kim Taehyung whispering in his ear. He has the slyest grin on his face as he walks by, his arms folded, afterwards turning on a heel to face Yoongi.

“Taehyung.” Yoongi broods.

“I’ve admired ____ for some time now. She’s cute and passionate about her business. You think she’d accept, if I proposed, Yoongi?” Yoongi turns to Kim Seokjin who’s twirling a bottle of wine in hand as he “reads” the label. Jin doesn’t have to look to know that his friend is stunned.

“Hyung.” Yoongi hates to admit that he truly believes that Jin would do such a thing just to teach him a lesson.

“You think she’d like a boyfriend too, Seokjin?” Yoongi whips over to look at Taehyung again.

“An open relationship? I don’t know, Taehyung. Let’s ask Yoongi.” He turns to the man in question who simply rolls his eyes. “How does Mrs. and Madam Kim sound to you, Yoongi?” Seokjin stares at the man, his face cold like marble as Yoongi hears Taehyung snicker.

“You two are sick.” Yoongi shifts between the two men.

“Oh, I see. You wanna do way worse to her.” Jin grins, laying a hand to his shoulder before being shaken off.

“Being a husband and a boyfriend isn’t always about sex, Yoongi. Who’s the sick one, now?” Taehyung crosses his legs, holding the table behind him as he quirks a brow at his lovesick friend.

“Ugh. Do you two ever give good advice?” Yoongi groans, snatching a basket on the table before walking off.

“For a price!” Seokjin shouts out to which Yoongi throws a middle finger back as he walks off.

He doesn’t understand why the Kims think embarrassing him will encourage him to confess his feelings for you. In situations like these, he wishes Hoseok and Namjoon were around. But Hell, he may still end up rejected because those two know how to charm a woman without even trying. Then you’d just be Mrs. Kim-Jung.

Yoongi finally steps from under the tent, the sun instantly shining down on him. He shields his face and makes his way over to the strawberry field up ahead. He crouches down, taking a plump berry into his hand. It’s vibrantly red and firm, ready for picking. He likes that the field is the staple of the market festival every year because they just go with summer. There’s other fruit fields like the watermelon, but there’s something serene about getting low to the ground and smelling the dirt as you pluck a ripe berry from its vine. Plus there’s so many things you can use them for: salads, smoothies, cakes, lemonade.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, taking in the crisp air as he watches festival goers peruse the scene. There’s plenty of old people here, but you won't miss your occasional parent and child, teen volunteer, and young lovebirds.

Without realizing he starts to look for you out in the various fields and back at the market. He doesn’t see you wandering about; just Jimin and Jungkook using their boyish charms to sell desserts. Yoongi would buy something from you, but he thinks it would be awkward either way he goes about it: buying while you’re not there may seem like he’s avoiding you and buying in your face even though he didn’t seem to make such a big fuss might feel like he’s doing it out of pity.

He has so many thoughts swirling in his head that it takes him a moment to register the shadow that’s creeped in front of him. When he finally does he turns to see you standing over him and he’s utterly stunned.

You look ethereal with the sun shining behind you as your dewy skin shimmers. You’re practically glowing. And the scent of your perfume encapsulates him as a light breeze blows, hitting him with the fresh smell of crisp peaches. His senses shock to life and he stands up to gaze upon your even more beautiful face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” You shield your face from the sun while touching his shoulder. He looks like he saw a ghost or any other cosmic being.

He looks at your hand on his shoulder and you swiftly take it away. “I should have asked, sorry.”

“Uh, you’re fine.” Come on, Yoongi, say more than two words.

You look in his basket and see the numerous berries he’s picked. “What are you gonna use those for?” You smile at him, finally letting your hand down as the sun's rays hit your face and cleavage. Yoongi can't help but think how’d it feel to lay upon your soft bosom and let all his worries melt away.

He forces himself to focus on your face because looking at you wholly is way too much for him to handle. You’re the personification of summer in your baby blue midi dress and beige wedges. Your hair is up in a bun, big and full, as two little twists hang by your ears. You have excitement in your eyes, and a smile so bright it compliments the glossiness of your lips. You’re ready for what Summer has to offer and he’s in love.

“It’s okay, if you haven’t yet. At least you’re not like me; I have a million recipes I can think of off the top of my head, but not nearly enough man power and time to execute them all.” You start to fan yourself, then look towards the breeze, letting it soothe your cheeks. “If you want, you can come to my shop, I can help you put ‘em to use.” You look back at him and he’s staring at you.

But then you notice he’s zoned out a bit, and you immediately worry that he may be too hot. The weather forecast didn’t predict heat-stroke levels of temperature, but everyone’s temperament is different. “Yoongi, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” You go to grab his hand, being the caring person you are. You’re more than willing to help him back to the tent.

“Yoongi?”

“No, I’m sorry; uh- I was just thinking. There’s really a lot of things you can do with -uh- strawberries.” You freeze looking at him. He was zoned out the entire time, letting you ramble on. You feel like a fool and you can’t hide how your eyes gloss over.

You let go of his hand and push your basket up your arm. “Well, if you’re fine now, I’m gonna go. I have a lot to do back home. And I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough,” you mumble the last bit, now in your head about everything. You don’t know why you feel so self conscious around him or why you want him to like you.

You walk off, careful lifting your dress to watch your feet.

“Wait, ____.”

“It’s okay, Yoongi, you have a wonderful evening,” you say, quickly walking away. He wants to follow you. He should follow you but he does want to respect your boundaries. Maybe he should give you some space? He never meant to make you feel stupid. He just thought you looked like Summer.

After gathering all he can, Yoongi comes back to the tent, walking past the Kims’ booth. They almost get his attention till they see the glare on his face. He’s not in the mood for more of their taunting.

He immediately makes a straight shot for your booth and is met with the most unsettling glares from Jungkook.

“Is __-”

“What do you want?” Jungkook stands, his arms folded.

“I came to speak to ____.”

And as if it couldn't get any worse, his worser half, Jimin comes out. He stares at Yoongi before leaning in to whisper to his friend. The two hold each other's gaze till Jungkook’s voice interjects.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where-”

“None of your damn business.” Jimin calls out before turning to go behind the curtain, looking back to glare at him. He stands there for a bit till Yoongi sees what looks to be your hand pulling him towards you. The curtain flows for just a second longer for Yoongi to see you laying your head against Jimin’s stomach as you cry.

“You should lea-”

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” Yoongi interrupts as Jungkook quirks a brow. What? Did he truly expect for him to just back down without giving him a taste of his medicine?

Yoongi simply picks up his basket and leaves you crying in the arms of your friends. He can’t do anything with them around. They’d never let him get close enough to breathe the same air as you ever again. He’s shit out of luck at the moment and maybe forever.

As he makes it back to his grandmother’s booth, she’s busy counting money to place into her collection box. When she glances over at her grandson, she immediately knows something’s wrong.

“Min Yoongi?”

“Yes ma’am.” He doesn’t look at her, instead playing with the berries.

“Is there something going on?” She taps the money on the table before putting it in the box, but she never wavers from her grandchild.

“Yes, ma’am.” Her sweet boy dumps the berries into a styrofoam cart and places them in a cardboard box. He can’t lie to his grandmother; it literally causes him a visceral reaction.

“Then what are you going to do to fix it?” Yoongi looks at her staring back. His expression is unmoving but he can detect the admiration in her eyes. He knows this is how she helps but it's never been enough. Her generation barely wants to talk things out; they just want solutions because feelings don't solve problems.

“Pray for a miracle?” He sighs, giving her a weak smile.

“Well, you keep praying then, but it won’t make him answer on wishes alone. You have to make an effort as well, son.” At least she isn’t a fanatic that sits and waits for her blessings. And honestly, he shouldn’t either.

Yoongi walks into his bedroom and flops onto the bed, before letting out the loudest guttural sigh. How did he fumble this so hard in such little words? You practically ran from him.

He finally sits up to look outside his window. What is going to do? You probably hate his guts right now. Or you’re so distraught that you can’t even feel anger; just sorrow. If he doesn’t rectify the situation now, you may think he hates you forever. You don’t deserve to harbor that kind of pain because he can't find the balls to tell you how he truly feels about you.

“You gotta fix this, Yoongi. If it's one thing you do with your measly life, you don’t break her heart… a little too late for that, but you don’t shatter it into a million little pieces, man. I can mend this.” Yoongi puts on his shoes and heads to the kitchen to rummage through the junk drawer. When he finds the sticky notes, he leaves a message for his grandma, telling her that he’s gone to your house. He’s most certain he’ll be back before she is, but it's just in case she decides to call her game of Bridge with friends short this evening.

Yoongi leaves the house on foot. You only live a mile up the road, and he wants to give you a proper apology, so he wants as much time to really find the words to convey to you that he never intended for his behavior to come off as disdain or even hatred for you.

But that leaves the real question of whether he should confess to you or not? He imagines that this interaction could get emotionally charged, so he doesn't know if something as big as a confession could really change how heavy this already is for you.

When Yoongi finally closes in on your house, he takes a minute to just breath before he rushes up to the door and knocks. He waits for a while. Your lights are on unless you were so emotionally exhausted that you went to sleep without shutting down the house. He then presses the doorbell.

“SORRY… UH, I- I'M IN THE BACKYARD!”

Yoongi walks around the side of the house and comes up to the gate. He’s so nervous that he takes some time to breathe.

“Hello?” You see a figure standing there and get a little scared because you left it unlocked as the town is pretty safe.

“Huh, yeah. Sorry, it's Min Yoongi.” His voice wavers.

“Oh,” you murmur, sounding sad.

“Uh -aht- can I talk to you?” Yoongi can’t describe how nervous he is, but he can feel his whole body buzzing as his shaking hands hold one another.

Silence stirs. Did you up and leave? It would be valid if you did.

“__-”

“Sure… the gate is unlocked.” You don’t sound too enthusiastic.

He pushes past the wooden gate, coming in to see you sitting under a tree. There’s baskets of varying fruits surrounding you, but you’re busy cutting an apple with a pocket knife. He stands there awkwardly with his hands clasped, looking like an inquisitive little grandpa.

This is Yoongi’s first time at your house and he’s mesmerized by the way you’ve decorated the yard. There’s fairy lights strung along the tree and an awning attached to the back of the house creating a patio with a firepit. The grass is so lush that it almost looks like fur. And there’s little sprouts of flower bushes planted around. It’s truly magical, especially with the orange-pink sky up above.

Eating a slice of apple off the knife, you watch him intently as he observes your home and you can’t help but find him cute. “Come sit,” you finally say, patting beside you. He hesitates a little but eventually follows, plopping down rather close to you. You study him for a while. Admittedly, this is your first time seeing him up close like this. Other times, he’s always kept his distance or never looked at you directly. It’s a nice change and it lets you admire the little moles on his face, his eyes, and his silky black hair. But most of all his scent. He smells like fresh linens hung out near an ocean breeze. It’s calming.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” His eyes wander your face; your smile is warm -welcoming even- but he does notice the slight gloss and redness to your eyes. And if he wasn’t already feeling guilty enough, he now feels worse because it’s almost nightfall, meaning you’ve been in shambles the entire day. And considering how he’s treated you throughout the week, this probably isn’t the only day you’ve cried. He feels like utter shit; just thinking about you crying in bed because of him.

“I’m so sorry.” His features soften as his brows come together and his cheeks puff out. “For ignoring you and making you feel like I didn’t like you.”

“It’s okay.” You look down, slicing the fruit again, but settle on staring at it.

“But it’s not. You’re the last person I would hate. I’d have to hate myself before I could even fathom turning on you.”

Your brows raise at the high stakes he sets for himself. “I don’t want you to hate yourself, Yoongi.”

“But I do. You didn’t deserve that from me.” He sighs before letting a moment of silence stir. “Truth is, ____… you make me nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Yes, you’re so pretty and smart that whenever I get around you, my mind goes blank and it leaves me looking like an asshole who can only respond in simple sentences. And you’re so bubbly and outgoing too that it intimidates me a little bit.” He looks down at his hands, but abruptly shoots back up at his words. He waves his hand. “But not in a bad way. Just like- I don’t know… there’s way better people you could talk to… than me.” All of this wouldn’t have happened had he just been direct with you. It’s so easy to be that way with everyone else, but with you? You just have this way of disarming him, and frankly he’s not opposed to it. You’re immensely charming, but he’s just…. “____, there’s no excuse for my behav-”

Your giggle graces his ears first before your smile does. When he looks at you, there’s just a mix of shock and confusion scribbled on his face. “I’m sorry… it just seems like I should be apologizing to you, now.”

“What?! N- no. Truthfully, I don’t have much experience with people. I lock myself in my studio and I only talk to the same two people -three, if you count my grandma. So it's been hard for me to tell you that I like you.” Silence ensues again and he looks up to see you staring back. Your eyes wander his face and you begin to notice just how attractive and enduring this man is.

“You really like me?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the realization of his confession. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this or ever. He wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. Why would he say all that? If you thought he was odd then, you definitely think so now. But truthfully you don’t; you never have.

Before he can even try and cover himself, you reach out and take his hand as your head tilts in admiration of him. He can’t find his voice as you’ve completely disarmed him. Like you always do.

“I more than like you,” he murmurs as you watch his round cheeks turn red and the big sigh he lets out genuinely surprises you. He’s been holding this in for some time now; letting it cause him great stress. You even feel his hand relax.

All has come to light now, and he can honestly say an immense weight has been lifted off his chest. If you reject him right now, he can honestly say he won’t have any regrets and be proud to say he even tried.

Yoongi stares back at you, waiting, but he didn’t prepare for your features to suddenly contort, tears streaming down your face as your voice cracks and wails.

Yoongi instantly feels his heart drop into his stomach, twisting into the most sickening knot. What has he done? He never thought confessing would make you cry. He expected rejection but not full blown tears. Do you think he’s pranking you by toying with your heart? Maybe it was better to just let you go on thinking he hated you?

He shifts, getting ready to speak which he’s sure no amount of words could help him recover from this, but he has to try, for you.

“I’m so happy to hear that, Yoongi.” His brows raise. “I’ve been really lonely since I moved here. I mean… I love the town but really only old people live here and… the adults our age don’t really talk to me cause they think I’m too different. I have Jungkook and Jimin but we’re just friends.” Yoongi is trying to process everything but his mind’s still lingering on your first statement. “For a while, I told myself that even being your friend would make me happy, but sometimes I catch myself thinking about you, but beyond friendship.” Yoongi isn’t sure he heard you right. “You’re charismatic and shy but I know you deeply care for people. I just couldn't for the longest time fathom why it couldn't be me. And even though I thought you harbored these feelings against me I still have to accept that maybe I’d like to have you more than a friend.” No, he heard you correctly the first time. “But I’ve been too scared to shoot for anything bigger.”

“Why?” Is all he says. It’s frankly all he can muster.

“I thought that maybe you had someone back home already. We’re older now and this is the time when people usually settle down.” You look away, your cheeks growing hot. “So I took my chance at the fair, thinking it might be my last.” Yoongi feels awful that it took heartbreak to reveal your mutual pining for one another. He truly doesn’t have any words for you. All he can think is that somehow all the celestial bodies aligned perfectly on this night to grant him his one wish and apparently yours too.

You two don't speak for a while as it’s grown dark and the only sounds present are your sniffles and chirping crickets.

He doesn't know how to make the situation better or any less awkward, so he simply gets up, grabbing your basket of strawberries and heads to the water pump to clean them. You watch through teary eyes in confusion. You just had a heart to heart and this man is washing fruit. You don't know whether to be upset or intrigued by his thought process.

When he flops back down, placing the basket between you, he picks a berry up by the tuff of its leaves and holds it out to you.

“Today’s been… eventful to say the least.” So a strawberry is going to help? Your eyes shift between his. “Eat.” Confusion stirs on your face at the sudden shift in his demeanor, but you lean in anyway, taking a bite of the fruit. It’s sweet with a sour kick at the end, making you hum. Maybe it helps a little.

Yoongi eyes the way your lips wrap around, the bright red contrasting with your pout till you pull off with a smack. Juice catches on your bottom lip as you lick it off, gazing at him with glossy eyes.

“Feel better?” You nod, watching him bite the berry. You think nothing of it, but he savors the taste, knowing your lips have blessed it first. He holds the berry in his mouth, bringing a hand to your cheek as he thumbs away your tears. Then he releases the fruit with a smack. “Then don’t cry anymore. Although you look pretty, I hate the reason behind it.” You’re utterly stunned, feeling in a state of limbo. Who is this man? And what has he done to Min Yoongi?

Yoongi finishes off the fruit, setting the leaves down near the tree roots before picking up another strawberry. He holds it out to you again as you stare deep into each other's eyes. “You done?” he asks, going to take it for himself till your hand grabs his wrist, redirecting him back to your plump lips. There's no hesitation this time as you let him feed you once more.

Yoongi watches your lips wrap around the big berry, juice squirting and spilling down the side of your mouth. The entire time, you’re engaged in a deep stare as he swallows hard, licking his lips. He quickly lays a hand lazily over his crotch, trying to hide his ever growing erection.

When you release, a moan escapes you. He’s about to burst when you give him a little smile. Then he gazes at the drop of juice on your lips. “Oops, I made a mess,” you giggle, your big eyes shining and lips pouty. You look almost innocent, and Yoongi can’t help but wonder if you mean it on purpose. You giggle once more. “It looked too good not to act on impulse.” And you mean it. It’s a perfect distraction and you honestly feel a lot better.

“Hm.” His eyes wander your face, his features going darker. “Wanna ‘nother?”

“Yep. Aah~” You open wide, exposing your palate to Yoongi. How are you this fucking cute? Everything about you is sweet, innocent, and bubbly. He wants to appreciate this side of you more but his mind keeps flickering to him fucking the back of your throat raw and abusing the roof of your mouth as he empties his ball before making you swallow his cum.

But he grants your wish instead, taking another strawberry to let you devour it whole as you giggle at the juice running down your lip. A little dark patch of dirt begins to form from the liquid dripping down.

You finally release with a hiss, taking in a cool breath as the refreshing taste lingers on your tongue and the crisp scent fills your nose. It tastes like heaven, and Yoongi is contemplating whether he died on his way to your house and is already enjoying his stay in eternal paradise.

Seeing a drop of juice rest upon your bottom lip, he takes his thumb, smearing the essence across the full expanse of your plush pout. Your eyes wander his, watching as they become slightly heavy and dark. He finally inches his thumb past your lips and you willingly take it into your mouth, sucking his thumb.

His mouth falls open, whining as you suck and hollow your cheeks before popping off to twirl your tongue. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’ve officially crossed that line and you don't think you two could even stop if you wanted to. There would always be this lingering desire for one another, so you might as well see where the night takes you.

And Yoongi certainly feels the same, taking the berry and feeding you till you hit the rine. He then pulls from your grasp to glide it across your lips before leaning in to kiss you. The taste of strawberries and each other mix together, dancing along your tongues as they swirl about. You want -no, need- more of him.

You quickly crawl to straddle him, sitting on his thigh as Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. Your clothed clit drags along the rough denim of his jeans, and you cup his cheeks, deepening the kiss. He squeezes your sides and hips, occasionally straying further down before finding his way back up. Even now, he’s trying to be a gentleman.

“Squeeze my ass, Yoongi,” you moan against his lips, grabbing his wrist to place his hands on your plump ass. He obeys, but catches you off guard as he grips you so fiercely that his nails dig into your supple skin. You moan at the slight sting spreading down your thighs as his large hands rub to soothe you. “Yoongi,” you whimper as he does it again, this time giving you a shake that rubs your pussy deeper into his thigh. Yoongi groans into your mouth, feeling a wet spot seep through his jeans. Your hands travel down his stomach and into his shirt to graze his abs, afterwards snaking further to grope his massive bulge.

“Ah~ ____,” he growls, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to press you deeper into the kiss.

Your pace picks up as you rut your hips against his thigh. He quickly throws your dress up in the back and slips a hand down into of your panties. With one hand spreading a cheek, he uses his other middle finger to tease your rim.

“Oh my -fuck- baby, yes.” He dives down further to your entrance, circling around as your hands grip his belt. Your pussy lays soft kisses upon the tip of his finger, urging him to sate your clenching walls. You hastily unbuckle his jeans. Yoongi always took you for a sweet girl, but he never thought you’d be such a cock-hungry slut. He likes this side of you just as much.

Whipping out his dick, the two of you stop to look at his massive erection: long, thick, and riddled with bulging veins. You can hardly wrap your hand around him. And a lush patch of dark hair brushes your skin. His tip is a deep mauve, glistening with precum. He’s been pleasing you this whole time and in need of release. You spit, watching as a long thread glides down your wet taste and drips onto his tip, your hand moving to coat him in a slick mess.

“Aah~ Fuck,” he rasps out, his voice shaky as he watches you stroke his cock. The warmth and firm grasp of your hand feels divine, sending his head to knock back into the tree as you attack his jaw with kisses. You’re sloppy, licking from his ear to his neck, then placing chaste kisses to his cheek as you giggle.

But your amusement soon ceases, now replaced with lust as he dips two fingers into your slick pussy. They glide in and out of you with ease except for when they rub against your beveled walls from clenching so hard, causing your thighs to shake a little at the sweet sting of him hitting your g-spot.

“Fuck my pussy, Min Yoongi. Ugh~ Baby, just like that.” Your warm breath tickles his ear as you whimper in approval of his fingers curving and pumping vigorously inside of you. His moans grace your ears as well, making more slick seep from around him. You look down, licking your lips at the way his foreskin pushes all his precum to the tip, some of it white from friction.

The atmosphere fills with the sounds of both your whimpering, fucked out voices. But it doesn’t matter as all your neighbors live miles away from you. Simply just another reason for loving the countryside. And as far as they're concerned, you’re two wild animals going at it -which is true in many respects.

You continue to please each other till your vision becomes a cloudy, white haze and the pressure in your stomach finally snaps. You press your open mouth to Yoongi’s as you both cry out, writhing in pleasure together.

You swirl your tongue around his, trying your best to ride through your orgasm as your body writhes and you coat his fingers white. Then you feel Yoongi twitch, veins pumping as he coats your hand in hot cum. “Mmh~ Yoongi, good boy. Cum for me, baby,” you coo, earning a whimper from him as he cums again for you to milk his cock. “Give me your cum, Yoongi.”

“Aah~ Fuck, ____.” You feel exhilarated hearing your name moaned into your ear and his hot essence in your palm.

“Do I make you feel good, Yoongi?”

“Ugh, yes. Yes, baby. So fucking much. You don’t even…” His features contorts and his mouth gapes open, unable to make a sound.

“‘I don’t’ what? Tell me, Yoongi.”

“Kn-know how much I’ve wanted to ruin you.” You continue to coax him through his orgasm, stroking him and sucking his lips and tongue as he whines from overstimulation.

Looking down, your head tilts as you watch one big rope of cum spurt from his tip. You look absolutely intimidating as Yoongi whines and watches your tongue glide along your top lip, a smirk appearing at the way he so easily obeys you.

“You did so good, baby,” you whisper in his ear and he whimpers with a shutter. You caress a cheek and kiss the other before gazing over his flushed face. He’s going to sleep good tonight.

Once Yoongi falls silent, you stop and rest against his shoulder. Your body relaxes into his as you sit, listening to each other’s shallow breaths. It’s only till Yoongi pulls his fingers from your aching cunt that you whine and grip his arm, burying your face in his neck. He gazes upon his glistening hand, spreading his fingers to watch golden light dance along the threads of your slick. Your scent is pungent, yet intoxicating.

You unburrow to look at the sight too. You even surprise yourself with how drenched his hand is. But that doesn’t stop you from showing him that you’re an absolute freaknik when you take one of his fingers into your mouth, the decadent tang dancing along your buds.

You continue to suck, bobbing your head back and forth as your big eyes gaze into his. You stick him so far down your throat that your eyes start to water. The hum around him causes his mouth to gape open as he hisses, thinking that he’d could get it up again for you to perform the same to his cock.

When you finally pop off, you guide his middle finger into his mouth, so he can savor your taste as well. It’s maddening, the way your head tilts as you look at him with soft eyes full of endearment.

“How’s it taste?” you ask so casually that it almost seems like you're talking about actual food.

“Better than any strawberry.” He gives you a quaint smile.

You’re like the sweetest dream as you loom over him smiling. Though, even through haziness, he can see that hint of mischief as you raise your hand to lick all his cum up. You never break your gaze with him, grinning around your index finger. You're like an actress for a yogurt ad, pulling a spoon from your lips as you look at him with big innocent eyes.

“You taste good, too.” You giggle, leaning in to kiss him. This is not the first time Yoongi has tasted himself, but doing so from your tongue makes it seem like a transcendent experience.

“I like you so much,” he confesses quietly, like he’s telling you his greatest secret.

“I like you so much, too,” you whisper back, running your clean hand through his hair as you gaze into his deep brown eyes. “Come on, let's get cleaned up.” You kiss him before getting up and heading towards the patio sliding door. You hold the door open after entering your home and Yoongi follows after.

He looks around admiring how cozy the place is. You have plenty of blankets for a good cuddle and the air smells like fresh baked cookies.

“You can go first; it's the door right there.” You point. He looks back at you, giving him a shy smile before he goes inside. You think it's cute how he’s always looking for you or not wanting to leave your side.

When he comes out, he looks around for you. “Yoongi.” He turns and his eyes light up at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Come make yourself at home. After I’m done, I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yep.” You giggle through a small crack in the door before closing it.

Yoongi is buzzing with excitement as to what your surprise could be. You’ve already given him your affection which is enough for him. Well, almost because he hopes to completely win over your love one day. And he’s more confident than ever that he can.

You come out, smiling at him as you come to grab his hand. Once in the kitchen you pull out his chair and gesture for him to sit.

You then rewash your hands before pulling out a plate from the overhead cabinet and a fork. You look over at Yoongi to see him posted on an arm watching your every move. “You gonna stare the whole time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yoongi, it's fine. I like when you look at me.”

“Oh… well, I can only imagine that you look even more beautiful….”

“Naked? Y'know Yoongi, you don’t have to imagine anymore.” You smirk at him as his cheeks get flushed.

You then open the fridge and bend over, exposing the back of your thighs. Yoongi wants to be able to bite them one day and get a taste of your nectar right from the source as your beautiful legs fight to stay open. But he wouldn’t mind being trapped between them forever as he holds onto your plump ass for dear life.

When you raise up, there's a glass dish in your hands. You set it down, pulling off the foil before grabbing a serving spoon to scoop a big helping of pineapple dump cake onto the plate. You then pop it in the microwave and turn facing him as you grab onto the counter behind.

You two stare at each other for a while before your feet are guiding you to him. You just can't stand being apart from him anymore as you cup his cheeks and kiss him. He moans at the intrusion of your tongue. He loves how you just take what you want from him. He’d happily grant your every fantasy; do anything you tell him to when making love. He’s absolutely smitten with you.

The alarm goes off and you release him, giggling at the way he breathes heavily. You grab the plate and trot back to him, setting the plate down and handing him the fork.

He looks at the dish and he’s glad it's a simple homemade dessert; he feels a little less guilty of ruining it unlike your decorative pastries you sell at your bakery. He does hope to taste them one day, but something tells him that this is something he’ll only be able to get at your home.

You pull a chair beside him and sit, both hands on your cheeks as you anticipate his very first bite. When the warm gooey goodness hits his buds, all he can do is hum in delight as he shakes his head.

“So good, baby.” Your heart jumps at his praise. You typically make Jungkook and Jimin try your food and they always have great things to say but it feels good to have that extra affection. You always want him singing your praise whether it's feeding him or fucking him.

“You make me feel so good, Yoongi.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wished for.” His big smile sets off a spark within you.

You’ve never felt this strongly about someone as you do now. He better get ready cause this will be the last time Min Yoongi ever slips from your grasp.

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giggly-squiggily · 2 months

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A Monstrous Craving: Second Selection (Blue Lock)

Heyo! Happy April Fools Day everyone! :3 Last year I posted a fic in which Bachira tickles everyone in Team Z, and I liked writing it so much I decided to do it again with the Second Selection! :D I don't know if I'm gonna make this a yearly tradition- but I had a funny idea and went with it! I hope you like it :3

Summary: Bachira gets a craving to mess with everyone again. Shenanigans ensue.

“Niko! Niko, Niko, Niko~” Bachira ran up, grinning from ear to ear. “Do me a favor?”

“Why?” Niko blinked behind his bangs, immediately suspicious. He might not be Isagi, but he’s dating Isagi. That’s just as bad.

“Just do it! Please?” Bachira made his eyes big, waiting. Niko blinked before sighing, giving in.

“Fine but just so you know,” Niko made his trademark handscope gesture, hovering it over his eye. “I’ll know if you’re trying to trick me. Now- what?”

“Follow my lead.” Bachira raised his hands, pressing them in prayer. Niko did the same, if not a tad hesitant.

Next, Bachira laced his fingers, making a double-handed fist. Niko did so as well.

Finally, Bachira lifted his fingers on one hand. Niko blinked before doing the same.

“Perfect. Stay just like that.” Bachira nodded, smiling. Before the seer-like player could react, Bachira quickly shook his hands free and laced his fingers into Niko’s standing ones, grabbing his fist. In seconds, he had it up and against the wall, pinning him.

“Wha-” Niko blinked, staring into Bachira’s golden gaze. “Okay, what was the point of th-heahhahahahahahhahahhaha!?!”

“Tickle tickle tickle! Eheheheh! What’s wrong? Is it too much for you? Pull your arms down then!” Bachira cooed at him in a sugary sweet voice, clawing at Nikko’s ribs with his open hand as the younger boy tried and failed to slide down the wall, laughing the entire time. Come on Nikko, don’t give up on me now!“

“Geaahahahhaha! Geheheht thehehehe hehehehell ohoohohoff you aahahhahass! Geahhahahah!” When Nikko’s descend came to an end, he laid on his side against the cool walls and floor as Bachira giggled before him. “Gahahah…I hahahte yohoohu.”

“Yeah yeah.” Bachira stuck his tongue out giddily before running away, leaving the younger boy to recover in the hall.

It was that time of year again!

~~~

“Come on…one more time.” Barou felt his lungs ache, and his limbs felt like they were on fire. His self-imposed training regime was brutal, but it was fitting for his kingly status. Shaking out his arms, he turned to start his last round of drills-

“BAROU!”

The king let out a long series of curse words as he spasmed, nearly eating the dirt at his feet. “What the fuck-” He snarled, twisting to find…no one. Surely he wasn’t hearing things.

Fingers in his ribs from behind convinced him. “GAH! Get the hehehll off!”

“Oo, the king’s ticklish! Who would have thought?” Bachira cooed at him with a laugh, hiking up Barou’s back as he scribbled and pinched along his upper ribs and shoulders, throwing the bigger boy around like an uncontrolled bull. “Coochie coochie coo! Looks like I’m giving you the royal treatment! Hehehe!”

“Yohohohou dahhahamn bhohohobcuhuhuhut! Geheheht thehehe hehehehell ohohohoff!” Barou howled through swear colored giggles, trying and failing to reach for him. He all but lost his balance when Bachira began squeezing the back of his neck, sending them both into the grass below. “CUHUHUHUT THE SHHIHIIHIHT!”

“Aww, and here I thought Kun-Kun’s neck was tickly! You make him look almost immune here.” Bachira snorted as he gave the King’s neck one last squeeze, hopping off with a light slap to his shoulder. “Thanks for playing with me!”

Barou only groaned in the grass, suddenly very tired.

Maybe that was enough training today, afterall.

~~~

“Wow, you’re almost there! Come on, Nagi- you can do it!” Reo grinned around his chopsticks as he watched his friend get closer to a watermelon. He introduced Nagi to the Suika game only days before- this would be his first ever success if he nailed it. “Haaaah…this is exhausting. You do it.” Giving up, the white haired player pushed his phone to Reo, tucking his face into the cook of his arm with a tired yawn. “Lemme know if we win.”

“Lazy as ever.” Rolling his eyes, Reo picked up the device, guiding the orange towards its brethren. “You know Nagi, you really shouldn’t give up on games so easily- even if they aren’t soccer related.”

“All the fruit makes me hungry. I lose my strength when I get this way.”

“Then go get some food.”

“I don’t wanna get up…”

“Fine, fine, I’ll get you something. Just give me one sec- I’m almost-AH!” Just before Reo could drop the last fruit, something squeezed his knee. His finger slipped, ruining his planned chain reaction and overflowing the box. Game over. “Nagi! What the hell? I told you, give me a minute!”

“Huh?” Nagi blinked, confused. “I didn’t do anything?”

“Yes, you did! Now look- we lost.” Reo fumed, shaking his head as he put the phone down. “Whatever- if you're that hungry, I guess it can’t be cha-ehehahhahaanged!” The squeezing came back, making him jerk with a yelp. “Dahahahmn it, gehehhet your own food, then!”

“I didn’t do anything! Seriously!” Nagi fumed back, frustrated. “I’m not ly-ehehehehe! Reo, knock it off!”

“What? That wasn’t-” That’s when Reo realized both of Nagi’s hands were on the table- balled into fist as the pale teen squirmed and giggled. Ducking down, he found…

“YOU!” Reo cried upon seeing Bachira, one hand on Nagi’s leg while the other was on Reo’s. “What the hell are you even doing down there?”

“Looking for loose change.” Bachira winked before squeezing both knees simultaneously, sending the pair into frenzied giggles. “The monster wants to eat the rich! He’s in the mood for legs!”

“Gehahaht the heheheell ohohoohut of heheehere! Gehahaha, yohohohohu dahhahahamn drihihihbi-GEHAHHA!” Reo nearly fell out of his chair when Bachira squeezed his thigh. “Nahahhahagi hehehehelp!”

“Ghehahahah! I chahahahhan’t! Ihiihh’m toohoohoh huhuhuhungry!” Nagi cried back, opting to just kinda fall over at this point. “Sohohohohorry, Rehehehehheo!”

Before Reo could say anymore, Bachira was gone- skipping away with a happy grin and leaving them be. Shaking his head, he pushed the remainder of his rice to Nagi along with his chopsticks. “Here, eat up.”

“Ehehe…no thahanks..I’m toohoho tired to eat..” Nagi yawned before falling asleep, leaving Reo questioning his life choices yet again.

~~~

Bachira was hiding.

Tucked by an empty hamper in one of the many locker rooms, he waited patiently for his prey. He knew them and their routine well enough at this point.

Sure as the rising sun, his target walked into the room with a low sigh, stretching his arms high above his head and popping his spine. Bachira waited a second longer.

Then he attacked.

“God, I’m so ti-AHHH!” Chigiri shrieked when Bachira grabbed his sides, scaring the life out of him. His screams of terror quickly shifted to ones of laughter as Bachira dug in, leaving no spot untouched. “Nohohohot agahhahain! Gahahahhd, whihihihihiy Bahahhahachiraahhahaha?!”

“Hi Missy! Did you miss me? Huh? Did you?” The dribbler cooed at him as he climbed his fingers upward, pressing into each open space of rib as he moved towards his armpits. “It’s been for-ever since I’ve hear you laugh! Don’t you know? The Top 3 are all sooooo serious! I can barely get a chuckle out of them! I like you; you always laugh whenever I’m around!”

“Thahahhat’s becahhahuse yoohohu’re a clohohohwn-Gehahhhaha nohohoohohoho!” The redhead tried to jerk his arms down, but Bachira made it to his armpits faster than he could think. “Bahahhahchira pleahahhahahhase!”

“Please what? Keep tickling you? Aww, you’re too sweet! You know how badly I wanna get you and you’re letting me do it!” Bachira cooed sweetly at him, careful as he lowered him down to the ground, chest pressed against his back as he clawed at the center of his pits. “To be honest- I really wanna tickle Isagi, but I’m waiting until we meet up again. You know- gotta draw out the anticipation and all that. So until then…”

“Dohohohohn’t yohoohohu uuuhuuhse me ahahahas a rehehehbound! Gehahahahhaa, Bahahhahahchira- Eheheheheh nohohohohoho!” The dribbler had quickly shifted to his knees, squeezing them and the area around it relentlessly. Even with limited reach, Bachira was still able to get them! “Screhehehhewh yohohohou and yoohohohohur lohohohohng ahhahaharms!”

“No way- you’re totally letting me do this! Why else are your knees still drawn up?” The comment made them straighten out, but a few quick scribbles to Chigiri’s belly made him drawl them up once more. “See what I mean?”

“Yohohohou’re a pahahahahain!”

“Love you too, Missy!”

Before Bachira could really get him going, the door slid open, revealing none other than a breathless, slightly panicked Kunigami. “I heard a scream! Princess, are you-” When he saw what was going on, he relaxed. “Oh. Hey, Bachira.”

“Hi, Kun-Kun!” Bachira greeted, finally stopping the tickles as Chigiri curled up against the tile floor. “I was just saying hi to Missy! Hm..you know, I don’t think I’ve said hi to you yet…”

Kunigami blinked. Then he flushed, realizing what was about to go down. “Eh, Chi’s alright?” When Bachira nodded and Chigiri gave him a tired thumbs up, Kunigami slapped his hands together. “Cool, cool.

Then he was off. Bachira laughed as he chased after him, filling the halls with screams once more.

~~~

“I missed you.”

Three little words were all it took for Bachira’s heart to implode. He pressed further into Isagi, arms wrapped around his torso like octopus tentacles as he nuzzled his chest. “I missed you too.”

Isagi laughed, the sound a little wet as he ran his fingers through Bachira’s hair, combing back the soft strands. Sure, they were never truly apart- Bachira was not ashamed of his habit of sneaking into the other team’s room and snuggling with him until morning. But it felt so different now that Isagi was here. Here and never leaving his side again.

“You're awfully clingy today.” The older boy mused, making no moves to remove Bachira from him. “Is there a special occasion, or are you just happy to be here with me?”

Ah. Right. Bachira tried not to let his growing giddiness show as he pressed his face further into his boyfriend’s shirt, hands adjusting so they were free. “You know- I was just thinking there is.”

“What’s that?” Ever the innocent one. Not a worry to be heard within Isagi’s voice. Bachira grinned fully now.

“The monster…has returned.” Bachira latched onto his sides with ease, making Isagi spasm with a yelp. “The tickle monster, I mean!”

“Gah! Oohoohoh nohohoohoho! Bahhahahachira, wahahhahait- gehahahahhahaha!” Isagi cried out, twisting about in the sheets as his boyfriend pinched and scribbled away at his torso. “Sohoohoho thahhahat’s whahahhat youuhuhuve beehehen up tohohoho ahahhaall dahhahahy?”

“I see the word got out, hasn't it? My monstrous deeds leave trails behind. Whoooooo~” Bachira put on his best scary voice as he raced his fingers up and down Isagi’s sides, making him squeal and kick beneath him. “I’ve got a craving, Isagi- and you’re on the menu!”

“Thahhahat was sihihihilly- wahhahait, wahhahait dohohohon’t you dahhahare- AH” The brunette tried to block him, but Bachira was already pulling up his shirt and taking a breath. “Dohohohon’t you da-AHAHHAHAHHARE!”

“Mmmm, tasty!” Bachira giggled after blowing a raspberry. “I want another one! Here we go-” Bachira blew once more, sending waves of ticklishness up Isagi’s nervous system as he arched against the soft mattress. One hand weaved into Bachira’s hair while the other tugged at his sweatshirt, but no real efforts were made to pull him off. “Hmm…I’m still hungry.”

“Gohoohoho gehehhet fohoho-EHEHEHHAHAH NOOHOHOO!” This time some effort was made as Bachira began nibbling along his ribs, focusing his efforts along the lowest set as he felt Isagi shriek. “NOOHOHOT MEHEHHEHEHE!”

“Yes you! I’m a cannibal, roar!” Bachira giggled, finally relenting when Isagi tugged him off. “You’re so cute, Blue Skies! Hehehe!”

Gasping for air, Isagi tossed an arm over his flushed face- hiding his misty eyes from the world. Bachira tugged at his sweatshirt until it was in place once more, climbing onto Isagi and laying across him with a happy hum. Once he got comfortable, he gently tapped at his arm.

“Knock knock!”

“Whohoho’s thehere?”

“Your boyfriend. I want a kiss.”

Isagi snorted as he moved his arm, blushing when he realized just how close Bachira was to his face. “Your boyfriend’s not home. He’s been eaten by a monster. Try again tomorrow.”

Bachira gaped, making Isagi laugh. The tickles were quick to resume.

~~~

Another day- another successful turnout. At least, that was what Bachira planned on saying after this.

Freshly bathed and dressed, Bachira peeked around the corner, finding Rin sitting in his bed all alone. A towel hid his expression, but his hands were busy with his shoes, redoing the laces on each pair.

Perfect. Bachira might even have an additional weapon to use against him. Slowly, he entered the room…

“Get him.” Rin didn’t look up once. It really didn’t matter in the end.

Bachira yelped when he was suddenly ambushed, his back hitting the ground with a hand protecting his skull. He was suddenly hit by memoires of the past- red hair flying in his way just before he was taken down like so.

Only this time, the hair was long and dark, Aryu’s eyes dancing with mischief as he came into view. “Good work, Toki. That was very glam.”

“Thank you! I mean- sorry! Sorry, Bachira- was that too harsh?” The muscular man yelped, but made no moves of releasing the dribbler. Soon a new body joined the fray, pulling his hands up and over his head.

“You never learn, do you?” Isagi smiled down at him, eyes warm as Bachira began giggling in anticipation. “Didn’t we do this back in Team Z?”

“Mahahybe? I can’t remehehember!” Bachira giggled helplessly as Rin took the final spot of their formation, cracking his knuckles.

“Enough reminiscing. On three. One, two…” There was a pause- one that felt like forever as Bachira’s giggles grew.

If three came, Bachira never heard it. Fingers touched down, scribbling all over and sending him into immediate hysterics. Aryu’s hands pinched and prodded along his sides while Tokimitsu clawed at his stomach and chest. Rin’s hands were latched to his legs, one on his hip while the other squeezed the ever living daylights out of his thigh.

And Isagi- ooo, that Isagi! He was scratching at Bachira’s shoulder blades with two fingers, somehow making it feel way more ticklish than normal! All he could do was laugh.

“Gehahahahhahhaha! Nahahhahahahahhaha! Whahahahit, wahhahahahit hohohohohold ohohohohohon- yoohohohu cahahhan’t juuhuhust do thahaha-EHEHEHHEK!”

“What’s that? We can’t just tickle you after your antics today?” Isagi cooed at him, pressing into a particularly bad spot along the edges of his shoulder blades.

“We weren’t even targeted. Alas, tiny glam requested my aid. So stylish.” Aryu tsked with a small smile as he carried on scratching against Bachira’s waist and lower ribs, putting his nails to good use. “Shame really- I was looking forward to your attempt. So sad, so glam.”

“I was too! Not that I expected it- oh that sounded off! I’m sorry!” Tokimitsu cried, worming a hand up Bachira’s shirt to get the bare skin beneath. “Just- take this! Was that…was that too much?”

“Damn bob cut, think you can just waltz in here and target me when my back is turned?” Rin growled at him, no real malice in his voice. “I’ll show you what happens when you mess with me!”

“Sorry, Bachira- I would have warned you had you not attacked me.” Isagi smiled at him, not an ounce of remorse in his voice. “This is really cute though- I’m glad we did this, guys!”

Bachira would have called him cute back if he could think straight. His entire body felt like one massive tickle; every part from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes felt tickly! It was overstimulating yet freeing at the same time. He really did miss having tickle fights with groups.

Eventually, it all came to an end. Bodies moved away as Rin stood up, stretching out. Tokimitsu left him a bottle of water as Aryu struck a glamorous pose, musing about the entire thing with a laugh. Bachira found himself once again with Isagi, his head tucked into his lap as the taller boy fanned his face, cooling his hot cheeks.

“Had enough for today?” Isagi teased, laughing when Bachira nodded. “Do you want me to help you get up?”

A favorable offer, but Bachira shook his head. “Can we stay like this? Just a bit longer?”

Isagi laughed, leaning down and kissing his smiling lips once more. “Of course we can.”

#Blue Lock #tickle #tickle fic #bachira meguru #niko ikki #barou shouei #reo mikage #nagi seishiro #chigiri hyoma #kunigami rensuke #isagi yoichi #aryu jyubei #tokimitsu aoshi #rin itoshi #fluff #group tickles #bachisagi #I loved writing this akrjkaejkrekj #Squiggily writes the things

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footprintsinthesxnd · 7 months

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All Too Well

Pairings: Chuck Grant x reader Summary: So this a little fic inspired by a moodboard that the very lovely @sweetxvanixlla requested and is also inspired by my recent trip to Henri Chapelle American Cemetery in Belguim. I highly recommend if anyone gets the chance to visit an American Cemetery then to do so. It’s a very emotional and moving place to visit. Warnings: death, mentions of war, PTSD, grief, post war reunion.

“Come on, Y/n. You’ve got to get up,” Chuck called, sticking his head around the bathroom door, toothbrush hanging from his lips as he looked upon the form of his sleeping girlfriend. “Y/n, come on. We’re going to be late otherwise.”

Y/n groaned and reluctantly crawled from beneath the covers, moaning incoherently at Chuck as she wandered into the bathroom, dragging the covers behind her like a child. Chuck just grinned, smacking her backside as she walked past. She shrieked and turned round to face him, scrunching her face up in annoyance. Chuck just grinned back at her, rinsing his mouth from the fluoride taste and placing his toothbrush back in the bathroom cabinet in its pot.

Chuck Grant didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky with Y/n, she was funny, smart, beautiful and she’d put up with his teasing ever since Toccoa. She followed him out of the C47 on D-Day, fought beside him in Carentan and shared his foxhole in the Bois Jacques. Even when he was injured she stayed by his side, holding his hand as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

Half an hour later, the car horn outside drew Chuck from his thoughts. It was Floyd Talbert, his battered green Chevrolet pulled up onto the pavement outside. He was giving them a lift to Easy Company’s first yearly reunion. The men had all kept in contact after going their separate ways back in the States and between them, George and Bill had organised for them to all get together. Most of them were bringing their wives and girlfriends along and Chuck was pleased to have Y/n by his side.

“Y/n, come on, Tab’s here,” Chuck called, starting in amazement as his girlfriend appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a baby blue dress flowing around her frame and her hair was curled and pinned neatly to the back of her head. She looked as beautiful in that dress as the day she had in Aldbourne. Chuck kept the picture of her from their first date in his jacket pocket and it went everywhere he did. “I’m coming.”

They hurried down the path, Chuck shutting the white gate at the end of the pathway. “Hey Chuck,” Tab greeted him as he hopped into the front seat beside his friend.

“How have you been?”

“We’ve been good. Can’t complain. How about you?”

Floyd looked at him confused but did ask any more questions. “Yeah, I’m okay. Doing the best I can but I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

They mainly travelled in silence after that, with the occasional conversation and Chuck reached across to hold Y/n hand, squeezing it gently.

Floyd pulled into a parking space and watched in amusement as George Luz came barrelling across the car park towards them. “TAB! CHUCK! YOU MADE IT!” He shouted, throwing himself into both the men’s arms. Floyd and George were laughing and chatting as Chuck helped Y/n down from the truck, taking her hand with a smile. “Well let’s face the music. George is as wild as ever.”

Y/n sniggered, “did you honestly expect him to change.”

“No, not really.”

“Hey Chuck, come see the others,” George grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the building where the other members of Easy Company were already waiting.

The reunion was going well, Chuck was so glad Y/n had talked him into going. He’d been reluctant at first, still haunted by the nightmares of the friends he had lost, he didn’t know if he could face seeing the men he went through hell and back with.

“So how’s things going with Vera?” Chuck asked, leaning against the bar beside Eugene Roe, nursing his beer that he came accustomed to enjoying while staying in Aldbourne.

“Real good, there ain’t a day goes by where I’m not smiling anymore. It helps to have someone to get you through each day,” Eugene suddenly looked up a little shocked. “Oh Grant, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to… well you know… I just… I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for Gene? Y/n and I are very happy. We moved into our new house a few months ago, and it's all going well.”

Eugene rested his hand on Chuck’s arm, “Grant, it’s okay to not be alright. None of us are ever going to be alright again, it haunts us all but I know things will get better. I have to believe that.”

“Gene, I’m fine. I couldn’t be better. Y/n and I are very happy.”

Eugene bit his lip as if trying to find the right words to say. He looked over Chuck’s shoulder where George and Floyd had both appeared and had heard the conversation.

“Chuck, I know you miss Y/n…” Floyd began and Chuck turned around to face him.

“What do you mean? Y/n is right there,” he pointed through the crowd to an empty corner of the room and waved. “See she’s waving at us.”

“Chuck…” Floyd approached carefully, resting his hand on his friend's shoulder. “Y/n isn’t there Buddy. Y/n isn’t here. She died, Chuck.”

Chuck snorted, “No she didn’t. If she’d died, who have I been living with?”

Chuck had to admit that the house was often quiet but Y/n had never been very loud spoken, and only one side of the bed had ever looked as if it was slept in, and there was only one toothbrush in the cabinet…

“No, but she’s right there…” Chuck trailed off as he pointed to the empty corner, Y/n was no longer there waving back at him.

“But… but where is she?” He cried, feeling hot tears fall down his red cheeks as the realisation hit, turning to his friends and demanding answers. Where was his girl? What happened?

“She got hit, Chuck. The same night Bill and Joe got hit. She was trying to help them, remember?”

Chuck couldn’t remember. No, he couldn’t remember any of it. Y/n had been with him though. When they left Foy and moved on to Noville she had been there. When they found the concentration camp she was the first one to help them. When they were in Austria she had been there watching the baseball game.

“But where is she, Tab? Where is she?” Chuck slid to the floor, sobbing and clutching hold of Floyd who sat beside him, hugging his friend firmly. He knew none of the men there would judge him, they only watched in sympathy as Chuck fell apart. They had all been in his position at least once since the war ended a little over a year ago. “She’s in Belgium, Chuck. She is a cemetery in Belgium.”

“I need to see her. Please can we find her?” Chuck buried his head into Floyd’s neck.

“Sure thing, Buddy. We’ll find her.”

3 months later

Chuck didn’t quite know what he expected when Floyd first told him that Y/n was buried in Henri Chapelle American Cemetery in Belgium. For some reason that seemed to make it real. George, Eugene and Floyd had gone with him, feeling as though he’d need some kind of support when it all fell down.

The car park was empty but they could already see a few rows of neatly placed white crosses beginning to appear. Chuck was reluctant to get out of the car at first, he wondered that maybe this was all a bad dream and that soon Y/n would be kissing him and telling him it was time to get up.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Floyd asks when Chuck finally found the courage to get out of the car.

“Maybe if you could come part of the way with me?”

The three men nodded, following Chuck up the long, concrete paved pathway and up the steps, following the steps down the other side. All four of them gulped as they looked upon the rows of parallel, ivory crosses, each row was diagonally and vertically lined up to perfection. Some of the crosses had flowers placed at the base and some weren’t crosses at all but the Star of David instead stood proudly above its soldiers.

“Didn’t realise how many there were going to be,” George choked, trying to hold back the tears for Chuck. Eugene squeezed his hand gently and nodded, tears trickling down his own cheeks. Many of the US soldiers had been repatriated back to the States after their deaths so they could be returned home but many remained in the fields of the country they died. Y/n didn’t have a family to repatriate her and so she lay beside her other fallen comrades.

The men followed the path down the steps, looking upon each row. The names of men they had never had the privilege to meet were etched into their minds, each life that was taken far too soon. When they reached the right section for Y/n's surname they all considered turning back, avoiding it would be far easier than facing the truth. They had all seen her die, had all seen her lifeless frame fall but none of them had ever wanted to relive that experience again.

Floyd watched as Chuck walked down the rows, wondering if he should follow his friend but accepting that this was something Chuck needed to do alone.

Chuck felt great relief with each name he read not finding Y/n amongst them, but his relief was short-lived and sure enough halfway along the second row her name appeared - Y/n Y/l/n, SGT 506 PRCHT INF 101 ABN DIV, OREGON Jan 9 1945. As each letter sank in Chuck felt his throat tighten and his heart still in his chest. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe, a sob wracking his frame as he fell before the cross, gripping hold of the white stone as if he could pull her back into his world.

“Please, Y/n. Please,” Chuck wailed, his short fingernails digging into the grass at the base of the cross, grounding himself as though his grief may pull him from Earth. Chuck had been told that sadness comes with anger but he felt no anger now, only unimaginable pain.

Ever since the reunion his grief had come in waves, small waves at first, sometimes without warning like when he’d open the bathroom cabinet and there was only one toothbrush when there should have been two. This wave of grief was different, it was violent and Chuck felt as though he’d never be whole again. Y/n had always told him that only brave people cry because they are brave enough to show they are vulnerable but Chuck didn’t feel brave, he felt broken, more broken than he had ever felt throughout the whole war.

“Why did you do this, Y/n? Why did you leave me?”

“I never left you, Chuck, I’ll always be here just waiting for you. What we had was a masterpiece but this war tore it all up.” Y/n placed her arms around Chuck, holding him close to her.

“I’d like to be my old self again but I can’t find him, Y/n.” Chuck sobbed, grabbing hold of her arms and pulling her even closer.

“I’ll wait for you Chuck, I promise.”

Chuck closed his eyes, savouring their last embrace. “I loved you so.”

“Back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known.”

“It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well,” Chuck whispered as Y/n faded from his embrace and he was left once again floating alone in his ocean of grief.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @sweetxvanixlla @noneedtoamputate

#chuck grant #charles grant #Charles grant x reader #band of brothers #easy company #101stairbornedivision

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restlessmaknae · 1 month

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the heart that wants to see you // hendery

➳ Characters: prince!Hendery x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: fantasy, magical kingdom au, magical school au, angst

➳ Words: 6k

➳ Warning: mentions of pressuring parents, emotional and physical abuse (on reader's parents' part)

➳ A/N: This is a spin-off for my Mark-centered story 'enchanted', but it can be read on its own. If you still want to know about reader (named Yoojung in 'enchanted') and Hendery's previous scenes, but don't want to read a whooping 19k for that, I've put together the briefing of their main scenes from the Mark fic.

Also, this story is dedicated to @dat-town. She's an inspiration for so many reasons, and not just because she inspired this story. Love you loooots! ❤️

➳ Spotify playlist

➳ NCT taglist: @s00buwu, @winterbeartaehyungbestboy, @sweetjaemss, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @squiishymeow, @heyditseeey

5 months after the end of the yearly contest

You used to genuinely believe that once you would make it to the Four Kingdoms’ United School of Applied Elemental Magic after four absolutely insane weeks of learning how to tame all four elemental magic - water, air and earth apart from your fire powers - and passing all the rounds, you would be happy. On the other hand, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

How you had passed the last round made it all seem futile, and you had this gawking guilt inside of you that somehow, you were here unfairly, you had just been lucky. Could it be considered luck though when each and every time you met Prince Minhyung in the corridor, and you didn’t see his friends from the contest, you were reminded why they weren’t here, why Prince Hendery wasn’t here?

You had a deal after all. The last round could have ended with two winners, but no, Hendery had to surrender before the time limit would be up, a few seconds before you could have both been given a pass. You could have both won. You could have both made it to the school. Sure, the judges would have had the chance to let either both of you win, one of you or neither of you since you hadn’t finished the battle within the given 15 minutes, but at least you would have had the chance.

Now, whenever you were reminded of Prince Hendery’s absence, you felt an avalanche of overwhelming emotions, and you couldn’t quite place them. He had explained that he had his reason for surrendering, but how could he have justified it? You had been so angry at him, you had been so frustrated at him because it had hurt your pride that he had let you win as if you had been a charity case, a mere consul and magic professor’s daughter, not royalty, and yet…

You found yourself missing him, his silly jokes, the way he could always light up the mood, the way his blossoming smile made your heart do somersaults, the way he had consoled you on the rooftop tower after the second round when you had thought that you had messed it up for good and you could have been eliminated, and you had missed his mere presence because now there was only a shadow of him beside Prince Minhyung whenever you were having lunch in the canteen. Your eyes were still searching for him in the corridors, in the training rooms, in the canteen, to no avail. He would not come back, you knew that.

And now, there was little to no chance of seeing him again because for the next 2 years, you would be staying at the wizardry school while he would be doing his duties in the Water Kingdom, and he had no reason to visit the school anymore.

Was it betrayal? Was it pity? Was it just him being absolutely stupid?

Call it however you want, but like the bruises that you got when you were carelessly practising, knowing fully well that you could literally get burnt, it fucking hurt. Because you let him in, and he left you right there, all alone, within the walls of your carefully crafted fort.

10 months after the end of the yearly contest

One thing that was easier after the contest had come to an end was to get along with others who had made it with you to study at the school. You could laugh along with Seunghun’s joke instead of seeing a powerful rival in him, you could accept the fact that Xiaoting was genuinely kind to you, not just trying to poke at you with her flawless attitude, and you could finally lean into the reassurance that you would spend 2 years with these people, and no one was at the risk of elimination anymore.

So you and Chaeyoung spent more time together than before even though you were assigned single rooms once the term started, hence you weren’t roommates anymore. Prince Minhyung also stayed his humble, boyish self, and even though he had to go back to the palace from time to time to take care of some duties - attend ceremonies, consul meetings and formal events between royalty -, he wasn’t given any special treatment because he was a prince, and he spent most of his time with you and Chaeyoung.

More precisely, he spent most of his time with Chaeyoung because the two had gradually grown closer since the school started, and you didn’t like third wheeling, so you didn’t bother them when you felt like they wanted some privacy to themselves. Oftentimes, you escaped to the rooftop tower, or squeezed your frustration into practising even more - a coping mechanism that you had grown fond of, too bad it didn’t make you feel better all the time. It was a distraction of some sort, though.

That’s when and where you met Kim Jiwoong, one of the most promising wizards in training of the Fire Kingdom who was in his second year of studies after successfully passing all the rounds in the previous yearly contest. Even though you had never met him before, both of you coming from the Fire Kingdom meant that you had a mutual understanding of your powers, the strengths and weaknesses you had with other elemental powers, and the pressure to do well at the wizardry school.

Like the elements themselves, the families of the Fire Kingdom were the most intense, the most pressuring and the most vicious. The royal family also ruled with iron fists, and there were no exceptions to any of their rules. That’s what you liked the most about your own kingdom, yet, that was also what made it difficult to not feel so worthless when you made a mistake. Having someone older than you (even by just a year), someone from your own kingdom, help you train was an excellent opportunity to improve, and you were both fine with silence as well, so he was the perfect training partner, really.

Months passed by, and the brewing rage inside of you calmed down, you tamed it into a sleeping volcano instead of one that could erupt anytime. You were doing well at school, your teachers praised you, your parents were proud of you, and these were what you focused on instead of the ache in your heart. You almost convinced yourself that it was alright, you couldn’t be swayed by the idea of meeting Prince Hendery again because why would you, it was merely an unrealistically hopeful (or fearful) scenario in your head?

Then, he showed up unannounced at the gate of the school, and when you, Prince Minhyung and Chaeyoung met him in the corridors, your heart betrayed you as it started thumping vehemently. That traitor.

“Hendery!” Minhyung exclaimed giddily and did their signature handshake with the boy before hugging him briefly. Chaeyoung was next, she also let him hug her while exchanging a few words with the boy, but when it was your turn, your legs froze, your mind blank.

Prince Hendery didn’t seem fazed by your reaction, instead, he acted as casually as he usually did, yet, that just bugged you even more. When he hugged you, it felt so out of place, his warm touch not easing the pain of the thorns that were searing your heart at the thought of the boy.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured into the embrace, and it didn’t slip your attention that he toned down his loud voice, so that only you could hear him.

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ was what you really wanted to say, yet be it your pride or your agony, you didn’t let the words roll off your tongue. Instead, you mumbled something akin to:

“It’s good to see you.”

Hendery let go of you, and the moment he did so, your heart churned. It reminded you of the moment you had shared on the rooftop tower after the second round. When you had almost been eliminated because you had messed up the exercise in front of the judges. You had been so used to blaming and punishing yourself for all the mistakes you had done, that it had come as a second nature to do so by that point. So when the boy had tried to console you, to protect you from your own guilt, you had tried to send him away. ‘How dare he comfort you when you deserve to feel this way’, was what you had thought, and you had managed to push him away, but only until he had caught your arms and put his arms around you.

For the briefest of a moment, something akin to hurt flashed in his orbs too, and you wondered if he was replaying the same scene in his head. Then, the moment was gone, his frown was replaced by his trademark wide smile, and he asked you all what you were up to.

“What brings you here?” Chaeyoung inquired after you all said a few words about your first year at school, and how it was crazy that it was almost coming to an end. Meaning that it was almost a year ago that you had first met.

“I’m here to pass the list of applicants from our own kingdom for this year’s contest to the office. So I’m really just coming and going, but it’s great that I didn’t have to find you for myself because we bumped into each other like this,” he explained as he flashed a content grin, and you wished it had been so easy for you to smile like this. To smile at all.

“It is great,” Minhyung hollered excitedly, and asked about Hendery’s friend, Xiaojun, who had also been a part of the contest until the third round. Talking about the contest came so easily to him just as well as to Hendery.

You hated how it seemed to have such a different effect on you. You were convinced you were over this, the blaming, the frustration, the angst, the second-guessing, and now here was Prince Hendery, and despite dreaming about this moment no matter how much you would have absolutely denied daydreaming about it, your heart was bleeding as if the wound had never healed.

You could see from the corner of your eyes how Chaeyoung nudged Minhyung in the side, and they started talking about having to go somewhere. You knew where this was going, but before you could excuse yourself alongside them, it was just the two of you with Hendery in the corridor, the sounds of your friends’ chatting fading in the background.

You looked up at the boy expectantly, all wide eyes, long limbs, silly little messy locks that covered his left eye almost entirely, ones that you were itching to put aside, but the weight of reality was heavier than your own inner desires, so you resisted doing so. The boy didn’t seem different than the last time you had seen him, but it was probably because he wasn’t in a fancy royal attire, more like a casual one with a satin shirt and cotton pants, paired with dress shoes, all in the many shades of blue, the representative colour for the Water Kingdom.

You stood there in your burgundy inflammable jacket and sport pants, on your way to practise in the Fire Kingdom’s own school attire, and the distance between you two had never seemed wider. He had never seemed more out of reach than now, only an arm length away from you.

“Shouldn’t you be going around with a bodyguard or something?”

“He’s waiting for me at the gates. We deemed that it would be safe within these walls,” Hendery explained with a shrug of his shoulders before inquiring. “Why? Are you worried about me?” He leaned down, leaning closer to you, and you rolled your eyes at his question. Like in old times, you thought to yourself, but you immediately tossed the thought aside. Nothing was like how it used to be before.

“I was just suddenly reminded of the incidence with you and Jaeeon,” you answered truthfully, thinking back to that time when the senate head’s son had punched the prince in the face when most of Prince Hendery and Prince Minhyung’s friends had still been in the competition. Jaeeon had thought it had been because of discrimination, and even though the boy had denied it, saying that one of your friends - Dayoung - had been eliminated already, he hadn’t punched back when Jaeeon had thrown a punch at him. Previously, you had asked him not to cause more trouble because his presence in the competition as a prince had already drawn unwanted attention. He had listened, but oh, how you wished he hadn’t.

“He’s been disqualified either way, so I don’t have anything to worry about anymore,” he pointed out flippantly, and you didn’t have it in you to say anything more on the topic. Truthfully, you wanted nothing else to say to him, but you let a few seconds of silence pass by - expectant, maybe - before you actually announced your intention.

“I think they’re already waiting for you, so I won’t hold you up,” you excused yourself with a bob of your head, ready to turn around to head to the training room.

However, before you could have gotten further away from the boy, he called after you, and fell in step with you, making you halt beside him if you didn’t want him to follow you.

“What?” You laced your arms in front of your chest defensively, looking up at him challengingly.

“I just… Are you still angry with me about the final round? You don’t seem like… like yourself,” he blurted out finally, and his realisation pained you more than if he had been oblivious to it all like how he had been oblivious to a lot of different things.

You held your chin up high, all the emotions of the past year flowing through you like an unstoppable tide, striking out at anyone and everyone. You felt all that confusion, disappointment, guilt and anger dance in your veins, wild and free, and you didn’t put a stop to them. You let them out, you let them burn through your body, to come out in an answer you wouldn’t have said so if you had held yourself back.

“I’ve changed, Hendery. If you hadn’t wanted me to, maybe you should have let the judges decide whom they want to pass instead of surrendering at the last minute, but oh, you just had to play the hero” you replied, cold and strong.

“I did it for you,” he justified, desperate and soft.

You let out a small huff of air before turning on your heel, and this time, Hendery didn’t follow you. Maybe he realised he had made the wrong choice the last time you had met.

2 years after the end of the yearly contest

Everything was white, blue, burgundy, green, white, blue, burgundy, green…

Everything was in the colours of the four kingdoms - the impossibly vivid green plants, the sea-like deep-blue ornaments, the burgundy flames of the candles dancing within glass walls, the white of the drink that was passed around to guests, and you weren’t even sure what was in it -, and it made your head spin. If it wasn’t already dizzying just how many people were in the hall of the Four Kingdoms’ United School of Applied Elemental Magic when you were used to seeing only a few dozens of students and professors alike, the colours definitely didn’t ease your discomfort. Much like the fact that your parents were there.

It was your graduation though. Everyone was celebrating that these 2 years were finally over, that this day would happen only once, and that now you were a much more valuable part of society. Some of you would become advisers for your respective kingdom’s royal families, consuls in the senate or professors in training at the school. Prince Minhyung, for one, would go back to the Air Kingdom, but now not just as a prince, but also as an adviser at the palace. Chaeyoung would join the senate just like her parents had done so. Yeonjun - who re-dyed his hair to a new shade of blue for this day - would join the royal palace in the Water Kingdom - his own kingdom - as a tutor for a princess, so he would not only teach her magic alongside her other tutor but also teach her how to fight since he seemed to be particularly good at that. Serim from the Earth Kingdom would help rebuild a a few towns of the kingdom that had been destroyed by a fire, and afterwards, he would continue helping out in development projects - both with magic and both with his leadership skills -, while Yeoreum had become interested in magical medicine, so she would train to become a magical healer in the Earth Kingdom.

And you, you decided to stay here to train as a professor. Not only because you had been prompted by Jiwoong who had also stayed at the school a year prior after his graduation, but also because you had grown fond of this building, more of a home to you than your own home in the Fire Kingdom. This way, you wouldn’t even have to see your parents more than it would be necessary, and as sad as it sounded, you felt more at home without them than with them.

Your choices after graduation were announced when you were called to take your certificate from your professors, and a member of the royal family, the senate or a future tutor - depending on your choice - also handed you a paper with your offer as a symbolic gesture. You took it from Jiwoong, for instance, while Yeonjun took his from Prince Hendery since he would be joining his kingdom.

It had been more than a year since you had last seen the prince, and despite the bitter ending of your last conversation, you only felt uncomfortable by his presence because others were around, including your parents, and you would hate to appear anything less than perfect in front of them.

However, everything became a bit too much after a while - all the colours, all the noises, all the fake smiles -, so you excused yourself, taking your bouquet of flowers (gifted by your parents), your certificate and your offer to your room, the one that you would be leaving a day later, only to get a different one in the professors’ ward a week later. You put everything down with a sigh, and turned on your heel to go back to the hall, only to change your mind at the top of the stairs.

You did a full 180, and headed upstairs instead. The walk up to the rooftop tower was more than familiar by now, and you welcomed the same kind of reassurance as you always did here when you stepped above the threshold. Taking in a few deep breaths, you let your eyes linger on the different buildings of the school, content with your choice of staying here. Two years ago, you had been determined to get into the school, and now, you deliberately made the choice to stay here. Who would have thought?

“I had a feeling that you would be up here,” said an all too familiar voice as you were deep in thought. You would have lied if you hadn’t thought about turning back at the sound of him coming onto the rooftop, but you decided otherwise.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you shrugged casually, hoping that the light breeze of this summer night would carry your lies as smoothly as the petals from the nearby tree.

There were a few seconds of silence that stretched between you two while Hendery walked up to you and halted beside you. You kept your eyes on the horizon, on the way the tall gates of the school kept out all the hustle-bustle of the Circle, the circle-shaped governmental capital of the Four Kingdoms where the senate also resided, on the way the sky and the far-away sea became one and the same in the distance, on the way light and the dark existed beside each other.

Everything co-existed peacefully beside each other, and yet, it never felt more wrong to stand beside Prince Hendery than now.

“Congratulations on your graduation! I hope you will enjoy teaching the future generations of wizards here,” the young prince broke the silence, and his voice was cheery. As if he had no care in the world.

“Thank you,” you bobbed your head as you turned towards him, letting your eyes focus on him this time, on the deep shade of blue of his uniform, on the way the belt around his cotton pants highlighted his slender build, on the way his hair seemed sparkling under the light of the torches nearby, on the genuine care in his eyes.

Truth is, you had missed him, but you told yourself that you would miss him even more if you had more to remember about him. As if that one month with him hadn’t been enough, now you would have more memories to torture yourself with. However, you decided to give him one chance, just one more chance to explain himself before you would go back inside your walls, in the lonely yet safe home they had created for you.

“But it could have been both of us, you know. Graduating together and such,” you pointed out honestly. The prince’s features hardened hearing your words, but you didn’t want to back away now. Not anymore. “Won’t you tell me why you actually surrendered at the last minute?”

“Does it matter anymore?”

“It does!” You exclaimed, your frustration lashing out on him. You didn’t even want to keep the hurt from your voice, you had to know it, you had to know it now or else, when else might you have the chance for it? “You don’t know how many times it crossed my mind that you might have pitied me, you might have wanted me to pass because I’m just a charity case for you-”

“A charity case? No, god, no,” Hendery cut you off immediately, shaking his head fervently. You had never seen him so confused before, alas, you had only been spending a month together. However, back then, each and every day together had felt like an eternity - for better or for worse -, and it hurt to realise now that it had been only a month, and yet… how much you had let yourself fall for him, how much you had let him in…

“I… I thought you had a feeling why,” he started cautiously, but when you just rolled your eyes at his cryptic words, he continued. “One of the judges in the final round had been tutoring me and my siblings at the palace before. I had a feeling that he would convince the other judges to let only me pass if I didn’t surrender. I didn’t want to take your chance or risk taking it. Besides, I wanted you to make it because I didn’t want you to go back home, I didn’t want you to face your parents after being eliminated. After what you told me about them on the rooftop, I couldn’t have just let it happen.”

It felt like the air was punched out of your lungs, your body filled with tremors. Your heart didn’t beat faster, but it beat heavier as if it had a weight to carry between two heartbeats. Now you weren’t dizzy because of the colours around, but because of all the emotions inside of you, of everything that suddenly came over you like an avalanche.

You knew exactly what you had said at the rooftop, but even then, when he had hugged you, you had thought it was out of pity. Because he had felt sorry that he couldn’t have done anything about your father who had punished you physically and emotionally when you had not been as good as he had wanted during practices - sometimes he had not given you dinner, sometimes he had hurt you physically, sometimes he had burned marks into your skin to make you remember, at least for a few days, what you could receive if you didn’t live up to his expectations. He could have done so because your mother had been living in the Circle, not at your house in the Fire Kingdom, because the senate was closer to her this way.

On the other hand, with the weight of the whole contest, of the chance of making it into the Four Kingdoms’ United School of Applied Elemental Magic with only a handful of other wizards, it couldn’t have been just pity. There had been too much at stake.

“I… but why? Why did I matter so much to you?” You asked in disbelief, your voice trembling by the end. He made it really difficult not to cry, but you couldn’t cry. You weren’t that weak.

Hendery smiled a bitter smile, one that you rarely saw on him, so rarely that you could have convinced yourself it didn’t exist, and let out a sigh before he let out a giggle. You furrowed your eyebrows, totally confused, and he sure took his time with the answer.

“I know you will probably say that I’m crazy, but I guess I can’t get any crazier in your eyes than I am now, so I guess I can tell you that I fell for you. It might have been just a month, but if I had ever felt like I loved someone, it would have been then, with you,” he confessed, his words carrying his usual carefree tone, but there was an underlying layer there, a kind of affection you had purposefully wanted to avoid acknowledging.

Even if you had been meaning to say a million different things, nothing came out. You had your answer now, and you couldn’t believe that you had been hating him for his choice when he had truly wanted the best for you all along. Not out of pity or hurt, but because he had loved you. Love… such an unfamiliar concept to you, love in its most selfless, most innocent form, love in smiles, in hugs, in jokes and in making choices for you that would serve you the best… this kind of love, you had never known before.

Or maybe just for a short while, and it was gone now, turned to ash, becoming one with the past.

Hendery might have taken your silence as disapproval because his bitter smile turned into a shadow of itself, a mere reminder of a smile.

“I know we would never work out either way, we’re from two different kingdoms after all, we wouldn’t even manage to see each other much because you know, I live in the palace in the Water Kingdom, and you were here and will continue to be here. But it was worth it for me, making that choice 2 years ago, so you could have this kind of future for yourself, and trust me, I’m the happiest that I could see you graduate today,” he continued talking, and it was so him, to want to fill the silence with his monologues, that with the knowledge of why he had made that choice back then, you found yourself closing the distance and throwing your arms around his frame.

“Thank you,” you whispered into the crook of his neck, the words you couldn’t have brought yourself to tell him all this time, and you felt the moment the boy believed you, the moment he eased into your embrace.

“Anytime,” he answered easily, loudly, proudly, and it hurt for you to realise that you knew, that you knew that he would have done this for you over and over again, anytime he had the chance.

And then, it hurt even more to realise that you knew, that you knew that he was right, and you two would never work out.

Just for this moment though, you let your walls down after those 2 years, and you let him in before you would let him go eventually because he was him and you were you, and your paths might have crossed, but they would not continue together.

4 years after the end of the yearly contest

Everything was blue and red; ocean-blue, cherry red, midnight-blue, wine red, and the list went on and on. There was such a wide array of colours that it was a surprise that everything seemed to blend in well despite the striking difference between the two colours.

You looked around expectantly, feeling uncharacteristically nervous because you had no idea how the day would unfold. Even though you had been to Prince Minhyung and Chaeyoung’s wedding the year before, it was different this time. They had held their wedding in the Air Kingdom, and everything had been pure, innocent, vivid white, the whole nation had been celebrating because it had been out of love. Not to mention that the kingdom had been lucky to welcome such a kind-hearted and determined young lady into the royal family who would be willing to make a change - to provide more chances for magical education for the less privileged, to give equal chances to women in higher-up roles and to promote more collaboration between the four kingdoms.

This time though, it was a princess from your kingdom who would get married to a prince in the Water Kingdom, and even though all that crossed your mind was ‘why, why, why not me?’, you pushed the thoughts away because you were happy, you were truly happy.

“Are you ready to go in?” Jiwoong inquired quietly as he stepped up to you after finishing his conversation with a consul nearby, his eyes gentle and intent on yours. Your features immediately softened, your lips curling upwards. Despite his cold demeanour, he had a heart of gold, and you weren’t surprised that all the girls at the Four Kingdoms’ United School of Applied Elemental Magic were swooning after him.

“Sure, let’s go!” You bobbed your head, and when he held out his arm, you linked yours with his as you stepped into one of the halls of the palace. You had never been to the Water Kingdom’s palace before, you had no reason to, but it was magnificent in its own way, and it felt like being underwater, surrounded by crystal clear water, away from the brightness of the outside world. As the sun shone through the giant glass windows, it really felt like it broke through the surface of water, dim and faraway, like a dream, like something out of reach.

When you stepped into the finely decorated hall, there were even more people, and rounds of polite greetings and introductions were obligatory. All kinds of wizards were here from the four kingdoms, and you caught sight of a few of your old classmates, including Prince Minhyung and now Princess Chaeyoung who were deep in talks with someone important-looking, so you waved in their direction before taking your designated seats with Jiwoong.

He didn’t let go of your arm even after you sat down, and when the ceremony started, he squeezed your hand gently, glancing sideways to see if you were doing okay. You turned your head to look at him, and when your gazes linked, you mouthed to him:

“I’m fine,” you reassured him when Prince Hendery and Princess Ahyun from the Fire Kingdom walked in. Theirs would be the first cross kingdom wedding of the decade because mostly wizards from the same kingdom - like Prince Minhyung and Chaeyoung - and royalty from the same kingdom - like Prince Kun and Princess Sujeong from the Earth Kingdom - tied the knot as it was the norm, but the Fire and Water Kingdom had a pretty intense trade argument last year that they wanted to cover up with this wedding.

As much as you would have liked to hate how this turned out for the prince - having to marry for his country, rather than for his feelings -, his smile seemed genuine, really genuine, and Princess Ahyun was a fierce yet just princess, so you couldn’t look at them with hurt or fury or disgust. You were just there, watching the events unfold, and when it was time to congratulate the couple, you didn’t shy away from it.

“Thank you for coming! I wasn’t sure how busy you would be beside your duties at the school, so I’m really glad you guys are here,” Prince Hendery beamed with his trademark wide smile when it was your turn to walk up to them. His smile didn’t falter when he caught sight of your hand in Jiwoong’s hand even though you hadn’t met him since your graduation, so you had not told him about Jiwoong. Maybe Prince Minhyung had told him, or maybe he had just heard about it somewhere when he had come by the school, and you hadn’t crossed paths.

“Of course, we came,” you replied honestly, and you were so genuine, it almost hurt because you looked at him, and he was so different yet so similar to the boy you had met 4 years ago, and the one you had last seen 2 years ago. Maybe he was even taller, he was definitely broader and stronger, but there was still that mischievous glint in his eyes and his smile, oh, his smile was the same!

It made you wonder what would have happened if you had been born as a princess, not as someone outside a royal family, if you had met under different circumstances, or if you had just been in a different universe, not having to worry about titles and contests and magical powers. Despite the time spent apart, despite the distance between you two, you had never stopped wondering about the what ifs; you had merely let them pass by reality like the scenery surrounding a building or the negative thoughts you had learned to silence beside Jiwoong.

“Congratulations on your marriage!” Jiwoong’s deep voice brought you back to reality as he held out your gift to the newlyweds, and the princess took it with a polite smile, thanking you for visiting. However, you didn’t have much time to yourselves because you were ushered to move on, but when you locked eyes with Hendery, his lips pulled into an even wider smile, you had a feeling that he was feeling the same way: bittersweet, grateful, but most of all: at ease.

You would forever be grateful for him because he had shown you that you could be loved, genuinely loved, and it was why you had been willing to let Jiwoong in when the time had come. Hendery made you believe that you could be loved, but it was Jiwoong who made you believe that you could love someone else with all your heart. Hendery might have wanted the best for you, but no one would understand you as much as Jiwoong - someone who came from the same kingdom, had the same powers and had a similar childhood. Hendery made you see who you really were under the surface, but Jiwoong helped you become a better person, a more authentic version of yourself.

The past and the present, your first and current love, the old version of you and your current you collided in that moment, and as Jiwoong guided you through the crowd, you let it go, you let it get lost in the sea of time, in all the reds and blues of the night.

A/N: Thank you for reading my story until the end! I hope you enjoyed this story of mine. Let me know what you think.

@dat-town this is for your information, but when I told you, this reminded me of something we've seen together after wrapping it up, I meant 'my precious' because their love story seemed cute and fun in 'enchanted', but it turned angstier when the boy made a decision that the girl didn't appreciate just like in the movie. Plus, I would bet all my money that you knew who was THE cameo when you saw Jiwoong's name haha. Also, the possible other spin-off that came to my mind when I wrote this was the wizard tutor!Yeonjun x princess one, and I purposefully didn't write anything about them in the last scene because who knows whether I actually end up writing it, and if I do write it, what kind of love story they might have hihi

Either way, I genuinely hope you enjoyed it all, love you again and again ❤️

P.S.: title is taken from 'Horizon' by WayV

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for NCT or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct x you #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv x reader #wayv x you #hendery imagines #hendery x reader #hendery scenarios #hendery x you #nct angst #wayv angst #hendery angst

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morallyinept · 8 months

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Happy Sunday Everyone! 🖤

I've seen some of these weekly round ups floating about and think they are a really great idea, plus I relish any chance to try and stay a little bit organised at the moment. 😵‍💫

So inspiration for this totally comes from these lovelies: @rhoorl @secretelephanttattoo @sin-djarin @trulybetty @boliv-jenta to name but a few, who have been doing this long before I have. I love reading theirs.

And I love that our favourite cowboy, Jack Daniels, is going to be the star of this weekly round up that will drop on a Sunday. Whiskey's deffo one of my favourite Pedro Boys for sure, sugar. 🤠

Okay, let's whip it! Whip it good.

This week has been a bit busy for me - ugh, adulting - but I've still managed to squeeze in quite a lot... although I'm not sure how! 😅 Thank goodness for queuing posts is all I can say!

☆ Things I've posted this week:

• The Pit - An Ezra One Shot - This is my first time writing for my beau, Ezra (& admittedly I may have peed my pants a little when I posted it 🫣). Thank you so much to those who have left some really positive feedback after reading it! If you haven't read it yet, I'd really love you to, and would love to know your thoughts about it. 🖤

• Five Days - Chapter 2 has been released today. Woo! Again, thank you for the feedback - I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this Joel mini series of mine. I simply adore writing for him.

• The Red Tie - Dave York GIFLET - Got more GIFLETS to come for more Pedro Boys. It's so fun writing these with a limited number of words.

• This week's session of Self Care With Dieter & Jett focused on how you can overcome negativity that's aimed directly at you. With a special appearance from Joel!

• I've finally created and posted my Writing Masterlist too. I would love for you to check it out.

☆ Things I'm currently working on:

• Next installment of Five Days. (The whole story is completed, but I'm just doing the final edits & making it look pretty.)

• A spooky, smutty Halloween One Shot, featuring 3 of the Pedro Boys, to be released on Oct 31st. 🎃 I'm excited about this one.

• Final edits on a couple of One Shots I've finished for Frankie Morales, Marcus Pike & Max Phillips. I have a couple on the go that I've started drafting for other Pedro Boys too.

• Working on some sexy Christmas treats as well. 🎄

☆ Things I've read this week:

• It's Kinktober, and there are quite a few Kinktober lists I've been following. You can check them out here if you'd like. You are all so talented with this yearly theme, I love it!

• I've updated my Pedro Character Fic Rec List too this weekend, so be sure to check it out for more amazing stories from all the incredible writers featured. If I haven't come across your work yet, please let me know. I'd love to add it to the list.

A couple of fics that really blew me away this week in particular were:

You call & I come running - @chronically-ghosted Taylor has written one of my favourite Dieter stories ever, and this Javi P story is a close contender, let me tell you! I'm still not over this. If you haven't read it yet, you're missing out. (The Dieter fic in question is called I Am Touchin', I Am Grabbin', Everything I Can't Be Havin'.)

Tear You Apart - @ilovepedro This Joel story is just fang-tastic in everyway. (You'll see why I used the pun when you read it!) Joel is just incredible in this, and really shows you that age is just a number. Brilliant read.

Stargazing - @secretelephanttattoo I love everything about El's Frankie in this. It's literally the kind of boyfriend I imagine him to be IRL. 😍 This was a perfect piece of sweet loveliness in every way. I'm still mush for it.

Ouroboros - @wannab-urs Gin has made me primitively feral for Dave York after reading this. This was an incredible read, and one I highly encourage you to read as well.

The Man In Apartment 6A - @spookykoolkat This was just so sexy. I can't even describe how sexy this was. I felt like I lived in reader's apartment reading this, and would give anything for this Joel to be my neighbour. Just delicious.

Tenant Girl Cucking - @gracieispunk Gracie did a number on me this week with this latest instalment of her amazing Maintenance Man Joel series. To the point that I am still bug-eyed about it now. 🥴 I soooo look forward to how this is going to all play out. Gracie, you're a menace for this cliffhanger, but I absolutely fucking loved it!

☝🏻All of these incredible stories are listed on my Pedro Character Fic Rec List also.

Also just want to shout out to lovely @bonezone44 who has created this stunning piece of Ezra art. It's absolutely gorgeous and I am flawed by it. The likeness is incredible! I would happily buy a print of this. For real.

☆ What have I been watching/listening to this week?

I'm a massive rock chick, if I do say so myself. Any kind of rock, be it classic, punk, metalcore, heavy... you name it. 🤘🏻 My inner goth is constantly headbanging.

I recently discovered a great, fun rock song called Plan Z by Boi What. If you're a Spongebob fan, you'll recognise this as Plankton. It's basically Plankton's song with a heavy rock riff, which is fucking amazing! 😀

I finished the latest season of Sex Education last week and I love that show so much! I really loved how inclusive and diverse they were with the cast and characters in this season too.

I'm yet to start watching Ashoka - I'm keen to, but just not had the time to sit down all week and binge something. Here's hoping for some time this coming week. 🤞🏻

And I still haven't seen Strange Way of Life yet either in full 🫣 It's coming out on Mubi soon here in the UK, so I'm totally going to chomp that up when it does! You'd better believe it! I'm pining for Silva already.

☆ What have I been up to this week?

I went on a short hike yesterday - something that I'm quite passionate about. Made the most of the sunshine still clinging on here in the UK.

Before the pandemic I would hike solo very often, but since then I've become quite lazy with it, so I'm getting back into it slowly, with the view to start hiking up some mountains at some point next year. My workplace does sponsored mountain hikes for charity, so I'm keen to take part next year for sure. Lots of training to do to get in shape before then. 💪🏻

I love wandering off the beaten track, discovering something beautiful and clearing the ol' mind out for a while. It's very therapeutic. And an ideal time to think up some new stories to write! 😉

Thank you to everyone who has tagged me in things this week, and to those who have sent Asks and DM's. I'm enjoying getting to know you all and engaging with you. 😘

I think that about covers it all. I hope you're all having a lovely weekend, no matter what you're up to!

Remember, manners maketh man.

Stay kind, stay creamy peeps 🖤

🖤

I created my video banner using a GIF of Agent Whiskey, originally by @javier-pena 🖤

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #agent whiskey #whiskey jack daniels #jett's weekly whip round #jett's pedro boys #jett's writing #jett's fic recs #Spotify

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themandylion · 5 months

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2023 Fic Round-Up

Happy New Year! In 2023, I posted 13 new stories and 92,168 words. Here's all the stuff I posted in 2023!

2019 Fic Round-Up | 2020 Fic Round-Up | 2021 Fic Round-Up | 2022 Fic Round-Up

weird crab - 1k, JayTim. The weird crab is back. Ugh. It has to be invasive, right?

Shark Bait - 3k, JayTim. Tim and Jason try to figure out what life will be like now that they’re both agents of Gotham. (Part 6 of Vigilante Life Cycle.)

Challenge Rating Increase - 11.5k, JayTim. Jason and Tim have moved in together and life is as normal as can be. Well, at least it is until the cat enlists Jason for a very special mission. (Part 8 of Tales from the House of Mau.)

By Blood, Book, and Blade - 15.7k, JayTim, written with @bionerd2point0. While on his way to marry a man he did not choose, Tim is offered an out.

(Love) Song - 100, JayTim. Tim sings while he works and gains an audience.

Trust Fall - 32k (WIP), JayTim, written with @kieran-granola. Civilian Tim Drake enters an arrangement with the crime lord Red Hood in an effort to gain access to a trust fund with some very particular requirements.

Hope Is a Beacon - 28k, JayTim. It’s nearly time for the littlest Lantern to fly free. Jason is having a hard time letting go. (Part 3 of Light and Space.)

Fic or Treat - 100-word drabbles done for Halloween: - Tour (Part 6 of Living Our Best Deaths) - Smoke (Part 6 of Tales from the House of Mau) - Clinging (JayTim) - Skull (JayTim) - Mojo (Part 7 of Fuzzy Business) - Want (JayTim)

#JayTim #my fic #themandylion writes #yearly fic round-up

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fullonfandomindulgence · 8 months

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the years

post-canon tome headcanon-that-turned-into-flash-fic in honor of tomeweek and mobtober

even tho everything else about the ritual was made up, the aliens really do only visit every seven years. so everyone is excited abt seeing the aliens again in the epilogue but they never arrive. the telepathy club just sits at the top of mudboat mountain all night. mezato is piiiiiissed. and like its still nice but. disappointing. tome will never forget that night but she was hoping to create a tradition, like, something to celebrate the strange but friendly. she finishes a bag of takis at 3am and tilts her head back to pour all the crumbs into her mouth.

she thinks, Was that the only chance I'll ever get? kijibayashi gets mad at her for finishing the takis. the air is silent and cloudy.

tome and inukawa are both insistent the aliens will come back the next year. the club tries again and the aliens dont come back, again. tsubomi wasnt expecting much but at least its interesting to go camping with mob and some weirdos.

so thats what it becomes, a yearly camping trip to mudboat mountain. on year three takenaka cant make it, so the shiratori brothers do the transmission instead. tome rolls the alien stone around on her palm. no response.

then tome graduates and moves away for university. and mob, inukawa, and takenaka have to worry about exams. and it all just doesn't line up. so they skip year four. tome sits in a corner of her dorm room and hates the feeling of obligation and fatigue washing up around her. she doesnt have the wisdom to accept it yet. maybe she never will. she cant tell if that would be good or bad.

It's year five. Saruta puts down his marshmallow stick, gets up, and walks away from the fire. "Okay, I'm gonna go look for aliens." Mob smiles but warns, "It's slippery." "Does--does he mean--?" Tome responds, laughing, to Teru's confusion. "He means he's gonna find somewhere to take a dump."

the next new years she tries something new and it doesnt go well. sitting in an alley and trying not to cry she gets a text. its a shitty picture of some mountains and the distant horizon at night. you cant see any stars, just the dim glow of city in the distance. in the corner of the photo is a green smudge with little red cheeks giving her the finger. the message is from mob.

she pretends like she doesnt remember the seven years number but she starts thinking about it in like june. it takes her until september to finally say something. tome: okay mfers this is the year this is THE year inukawa: What year tome: let me finish this is t he YEAR WE SEE ALIENS AGAIN all thet sources say seven years! the aliens dont visit every year, only ever seven well were all old now and its been sseven years! so lets get out there and DO THIS!!! whatever or whoever else youre doing plz bring it all up the mountain with you inukawa: Oh my god this is the year mob: Seven years, jesus. kijibayashi: THIS IS THE YEAR kijibayashi: THIS IS THE YEAR kijibayashi: THIS IS THE YEAR takenaka: THIS IS THE YEAR mob: THIS IS THE YEAR! kijibayashi: THIS IS THE YEAR

in the end no one can get hold of saruta. he would respond to a hello but wouldnt engage for more than a few messages. tome is mad but everyone hopes hes okay. mob dredges up mezato from her journalism internship. he even convinces jun (shaved head guy from the body improvement club) to come with. the team comes equipped with two switches, a laptop for anime, ultimate werewolf, a portable speaker, comics, snacks, and as much booze as they can carry.

tome can feel the transmission vibrating her teeth, but only the ones without fillings. she leans backwards as the tractor beam pulls her up so she does a slow flip before landing on her back in that warm, round space. shes 15 again. these are her friends, the same aliens she met last time. takenaka confirms this but she knew it as soon as she shook one of their hands.

shes not 15, though, shes 22. she has to elbow in on mezatos interviews. Are there alien ghosts? How old are you? Are there like alien teenagers or is it more of a chrysalis situation? Why are you here? Are there alien videogames? What advice would you give to someone who's struggling to find respect for her work? Have you ever tried fireball?

Inukawa is annoyingly good at telling when the aliens are lying so he keeps winning at werewolf (Takenaka is only allowed to play if he's cool about it). Tome wonders, internally, what it would be like to kiss an alien. Probably reserved at first, like of course, you'd want to start slow. But then after that… She watches an alien laugh at a visual gag in Crayon Shin-chan. Mob slams smirnoff and engages in an intense series of arm wrestling matches. "Hey noodle arms! Square up!" He gets beaten by every single alien. Jun wins against one. Takenaka looks shiftily over at them and says, "That was out of pity." Everyone raises a shot glass to Saruta.

tomes 15, shes 22. and then she realizes she's 29, too, and 36, and 43, 50, 57… she has maybe eight or nine more chances at this, ever. would the aliens accept her as an old lady? how long would she be able to make the hike? I should talk to mob about that. How to become dash granny.

everyone has gifts ready this time, except for mezato, who decides that her offering to these strange beings from another world should be a half-empty bottle of jagermeister. tome gives the aliens one of those compact cb radios, thinking maybe if they were nearby they could gibber on a particular channel and tome, who had her own radio at home, would know they were here. according to takenaka their response is very coy and mysterious and annoying.

Tome shows the aliens the stone they gave her last time. She'd kept it on her person basically since she got it. She receives a hug from one of the aliens with their soft many-segmented limbs and starts crying. More of the aliens move in for a group hug around her and she cries and laughs and cries some more as she reaches out to wrap her arms around as many as she can. Gross rivers drip from her nose. She sniffs and wipes her face with the backs of her hands as they disentangle. She looks at the group of weird big-eyed friends. She opens her arms wide, hands covered with tears and slime, and announces, "Thank you! Thank you all! This has been so much fucking fun. Pretend you all have glasses in your hands, I'm gonna do a toast. A toast to strange friends!" Two species say "Clink! Clink!" as their empty hands knock together.

the suns been up for an hour or two. the ship shimmers in daylight, translucent, floating away.

29, Tome thinks. "I want you all here, next time."

"So I'm free? I can party for the next six New Yearses as long as I go camping with you on the seventh?"

"Whatever, Kijibayashi, fuck you, like that wasn't the best party you ever been to. Yes. Next time."

the memory has multiplied, into past and future. Who? How? Is it stupid to make such a big deal of this thing? tome watches the stone in her palm.

No. No it's not. she puts the stone in her pocket.

#tomeweek2023 #mobtober #tome kurata #mob psycho 100 #fanfic #mobtober2023 #tomeweek #flash fiction #mp100 #drabble #inukawa mameta #kijibayashi haruto #shigeo kageyama #mp100 mob #mp100 tome #takenaka momozou

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harleychick91 · 7 months

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SuperCorptober Day 28: Season

Kissing Booth

How? How did this happen? I know that National City has a yearly fundraiser in the fall season, and most businesses have a booth at the event, but how did Supergirl get roped into a kissing booth? Grumbling, I finished the rest of my ribbon fries. “I knew you’d hate this,” Sam murmured. “I bet they’re making a killing.” Glaring towards the brunette, she grinned. “I’m joking!” She paused. “Partly.”

During the lunch lull, I made my way towards the booth. Noticing me, Kara smiled. “Hey, guys!”

“How’s it going?” Sam waved to Alex. “If you want to get food, we can hold down the fort.”

“Oh, thank God! I’m starving!” Dashing towards the food area, Alex disappeared into the crowd.

“Aww. I was going to ask her to bring me something,” Kara pouted. Turning her attention back to us, she smiled. “Things are good. Are you enjoying the seasonal fundraiser?”

“Yes. I got a caramel apple, some ribbon fries, and a few homemade fall decorations for the office.” That jar is pretty full. I guess Alex needs to empty it again.

“You overpaid for everything, didn’t you?” The Super grinned up at me.

“Everyone is donating their profits. I wanted to help them reach their goal.” Folding my arms, I smirked. “Of course I did.”

“You’re such a good person,” Kara beamed.

“Not that good…” Sam muttered with her back towards us.

Frowning, Kara chose to ignore Sam’s comment. “I can’t wait for this to be over,” she shrugged. “I want food and to stop kissing random people.”

“Soon, hopefully.” I offered a warm smile.

Returning, Alex took her seat beside Kara. “I brought you some fries but no vinegar for you.”

“Aww,” Kara pouted. Before too long, nearly half of the plate was empty.

More people started to wander around us. “Guess it’s time to make another round.”

“Bye, guys.” Alex and Kara spoke in unison.

Leaning against a tree, I watched as an ever growing line continued in front of Kara’s booth. “Explain to me again how you ended up watching your crush, well, your crush’s alter ego, participating at a kissing booth.”

Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. “I honestly don’t understand how it happened. All I know is, I can’t wait for this fundraising event to be over.”

“Maybe I can do my part and-,” Sam laughed at my death stare. “Oh, stop.” She rolled her eyes. “There’s the choice to kiss her cheek or have her kiss theirs. It’s not like it’s a lip lock.”

“Thank God!” I grinned at the brunette. “You’d drop a couple hundred dollars if it was Alex who did the kissing.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Sam stuck her tongue out like a child.

“Screw this.” Writing a check, I stormed towards the booth, shoved the check into the jar, cupped the back of Kara’s head, and planted a hard kiss on the woman’s lips. When she kissed back, it was hard to remember we were in public. Leaning back, I smirked as Kara giggled and slid to the ground. “The check is for three times what your booth goal was. Now, can you please, stop kissing random people.”

“I think you broke Supergirl,” Alex snorted.

Leaning over the table, I smirked down at the blonde. “Come by the penthouse after rounds. Two thirds of the check was for charity. I plan to get my money’s worth for the last third.”

“Okay…” Kara breathed. With that, I walked away triumphantly.

Kissing booth idea came from the (now) 5 part series done by heeevgracie on IG. Go check it out!!!

Fic is on AO3 and FFN

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #supercorp ficlet

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xxsksxxx · 8 months

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Liberating the Mirage

Summary:

When an assignment goes horribly wrong, Mulder has to race against time to find Scully.

But sometimes the line between reality and illusion blurs—and it turns out there’s more than one locked door that needs to be opened. Notes:

This is my little contribution to Fictober, a yearly event that celebrates writing and reading—and fall. All of which are good things in my world.

Since there’s no way I can come up with a new story every day, I’ve decided to write one fic that includes all prompts from the Fictober 2023 prompt list. They’re all in bold if you want to seek them out specifically. You can find the list here: Fictober 2023

This story is complete, but to keep in the spirit of Fictober, I’m posting one chapter a day.

I hope you’ll have as much fun reading this fic as I had writing it.

AO3 | @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023

Chapter 1: Trouble Loves Company

Bladensburg Road, Washington, D.C. Warehouse

“Motorcycle approaching from the left,” Scully reported crisply into the mouthpiece of her microphone. She unobtrusively observed the upcoming vehicle in her rearview mirror. “Estimated time of passage: 15 seconds.”

“Confirmed,” Mulder replied, his voice tinny through the earpiece attached to her head.

She pulled the sun visor down and pretended to check her makeup in the small mirror attached to the back as the motorcycle passed her van slowly. She watched out of the side of her eye to avoid causing any suspicion, but the driver didn’t seem to pay her any attention. Mulder's car discretely pulled out of its parking slot, only a few cars down the road, and followed at a distance.

“I believe it’s our target,” Mulder’s voice crackled through her earpiece.

“Confirmed,” Skinner joined the conversation from his car on the other side of the warehouse.

Scully squinted against the rising sun and watched as the motorcycle rounded the corner and disappeared from view, Mulder’s car not far behind it. “Visual contact lost,” she reported into her microphone.

“Copy,” Skinner’s voice replied promptly through the line. “Maintain position, Agent Scully, in case of a potential escape.”

“Understood,” she confirmed and leaned back in her seat. All she could do now was wait. She turned her head to keep an eye on the warehouse, making sure she wouldn’t miss Eddie Connolly if he decided to try to escape through her side of the building.

*****

Mulder pressed his back against the stonewall and moved closer to the steel door Connolly had walked through only a few moments before. He checked his gun one last time before gripping the handle and carefully pulling the door open. He squeezed through the small opening he had created and closed the door softly.

The musty smell of old wooden crates filled the abandoned warehouse. He was surrounded by boxes that were stacked to the ceiling, and everything was eerily silent. Mulder tried to make out any sounds that would reveal where Connolly had disappeared to and carefully pulled up the tiny microphone at his collar. “I’m inside. I don’t see anyone.”

Careful to not step on anything that would give him away, he moved slowly across the room. After rounding a stack of old wooden boxes, he finally heard murmuring voices. He pressed his back to the wood and carefully looked around the corner. Connolly was animatedly talking to a tall man who was leaning against a table in the middle of the room. He seemed to try to explain something to the other man. From what Mulder could tell, the other man wasn’t impressed, his arms tightly crossed while listening.

Just as he was about to raise his gun, a third person joined the group, and Mulder swiftly moved his head back to avoid being seen. He cursed silently, wondering why there were three men. Their contact had told them Eddie Connolly was going to meet with the head of the group alone.

He couldn’t make out what the three men were talking about, but their conversation grew louder and more animated, suggesting they were discussing something quite important. Mulder debated risking another glance but turned his chin down into the collar of his tactical vest instead. “Our target met with two other men. It’s getting heated,” he whispered into his microphone.

“Three men? We only knew about one other person. Can you confirm?” Skinner’s voice sounded through Mulder’s earpiece.

“Confirmed,” he whispered and slowly moved his head back around the corner— just in time to watch the tall man giving a signal to the third person. Mulder scanned him with a quick glance. He was at least 6’5 and built like a brick wall. A bodyguard? Mulder wondered just as the burly henchman closed in and swiftly seized Connolly by the throat. The tall man moved closer and bent over Connolly, whispering something. Mulder watched the man’s eyes widen, but he couldn’t hear what they were talking about. He cursed again silently. He needed to get closer.

Maybe he could sneak around the back of the crates, he wondered, while carefully retreating from the corner. He eyed the boxes stacked around him with a critical eye.

As silently as possible, he crouched down and moved behind the next stack of boxes, slowly making his way closer to the group.

Just as he was about to get close enough to hear what the tall man was telling Connolly, the bodyguard looked up and spotted him.

Mulder had only a slit second to react. He raised his gun, aiming at the burly man. “Federal agent! Stop right there! Move into the light. Hands where I can see them!” he shouted. Dimly, he registered Skinner’s voice in his ear giving orders to storm the building and for Scully to watch the exit for anyone trying to escape.

For a second, the three men froze and stared at him. Then all hell broke loose as the tall man opened fire before darting around one of the tall crates, disappearing from view.

Mulder retreated quickly behind his stack of boxes, his heart racing. He tried to calm his breathing when suddenly a shadow rounded the corner and crashed into him. The thug landed on top of him, and all the air went straight out of Mulder’s lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

The other man wasn’t faring any better. He cradled his arm in his left hand and tried to get past. Mulder tackled his legs and brought him back down, swiftly turning the man’s arm behind his back and kneeling on his lower back. The henchman screamed in pain.

Just then, Skinner came running onto the scene, followed by two other agents, who immediately swarmed out to search the warehouse.

Mulder tried to catch his breath while handcuffing his suspect. The man lay grunting on the floor, no longer a threat. “Did you get Connolly and our head guy?” he asked Skinner, jumping back to his feet.

Skinner held up a hand, listening intently to his earpiece. He let out a frustrated groan and turned back to Mulder. “This one here seems to be just a thug that follows orders. We’re searching the warehouse, and Scully got the front exit covered. It’s not too late to arrest them all, let’s go!” Skinner turned around, clearly expecting his agent to follow, but Mulder was rooted to the spot, staring at his boss with wide eyes.

Scully! Mulder thought frantically. In all the chaos of the last few minutes, he hadn’t heard Scully’s voice in the mix at all. The realization hit him like a truck. Scully would’ve reported in by now. Something must’ve happened.

“Scully!” he shouted and took off towards the front entrance in a dead run.

*****

Scully gingerly lifted her hands in the air, palms facing out. “My gun’s attached on my right side,” she said, pointing with her chin, her eyes never leaving the tall man standing in the open passenger side door, aiming his gun at her.

She turned her back all the way towards the driver’s side window, facing the armed man fully and giving him her full attention. The tall man got into the passenger seat without missing a beat and closed the door without moving his eyes away from her. “Hand me your gun,” he said icily and held out his empty hand towards her, making an impatient gesture with his fingers.

Slowly, she pulled the weapon from her waist, careful not to startle him. If I can slow him down enough, backup will be here ASAP, she thought. Mulder had probably already noticed that she hadn’t reported in. All she needed was some time.

“All right. I’m handing you my gun,” she replied and slowly moved her hand with the weapon closer to his outstretched hand.

“I wouldn’t play any games if I were you,” he said calmly, completely unfazed by the fact that several FBI agents were looking for him only a few feet away.

An icy chill ran down Scully’s back. This guy was no ordinary criminal, she realized. This man had seen far worse than an observation and bust from the FBI. She shouldn’t have underestimated either of the men. He’d been clever enough to know that the front door was under surveillance. That meant he’d come through the back where Skinner and the other agents had come in to back Mulder up, she thought. He’d known they wouldn’t expect him to come towards them instead of taking the supposedly easy front exit. He’d outsmarted them all.

He must’ve seen the realization hit her because his mouth moved into a sarcastic smirk. “I see we understand each other. So if you don’t want me to shoot the first person that comes running out of that building and make you drive me out of here anyway, I’d suggest you turn on this car and drive,” he said. “And make no mistake, if you try to trick me, and we get caught, I’m taking you with me!”

Scully offered no response and shifted her gaze to the front, fully aware that Mulder might burst through that door at any second, unprepared for anyone just waiting to shoot at him. If she wanted to make sure that he wasn’t killed, she needed to get them away from here. She turned the key and the car came to life effortlessly.

“Where do you want me to go,” she asked calmly, ignoring her racing heart.

“I don’t care, just drive!” the man said, looking outside the window towards the front entrance of the warehouse. When he was sure that no one was in sight, he turned his attention back to her.

Scully expertly steered the van onto the road, driving as slowly as possible, hoping that Mulder would notice what had occurred and reach her in time. However, the man sitting next to her had different plans. “What are you doing?!” he yelled and pressed his gun right into her side. “I said drive!”

With a sigh, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator, knowing she’d have to find another way to get out of this.

*****

Mulder sprinted towards the front exit in a dead run. He threw his shoulder against the door and shoved it open. Outside, he frantically scanned the sidewalk for Scully and the green van she’d been in. It wasn’t there.

His eyes moved up and down the street anxiously, catching sight of the van just as it gained speed. “Scully!” he yelled, sprinting in the direction of the disappearing van.

He ran as fast as he could, but the car was getting further and further away. By the time he reached the next traffic light, it had rounded a corner and disappeared from view. He grabbed his knees, breathing heavily. That’s when he remembered the microphone attached to his collar. “I need help,” he shouted. “They’ve got Scully!”

After taking a long look in the direction the van had disappeared, he turned and sprinted back to the warehouse as fast as he could.

***

Thank you so much for reading. You can also find this fic on AO3.

#xfiles #mulder and scully #xf fanfic #fictober23 #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober event #fictober 2023 #xffictober #xffictober23 #i wrote this #Liberating the Mirage

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