#never used the tag before but might as well

[mionemymind]

Chapter 3: Choosing for You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: The competition is here. Who will be the winner?

A/n: This was a long chapter, honestly might rewrite it, but here it is with all its mistakes and glories. And I'm sorry if you've asked to be tagged and wasn't included in this post, I'm posting this from work because I promised to give y'all something. (Gif credits to @elizabetholsens)

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Mentions of Puking, Memory Loss, Panic Attack

Word Count: 7.2k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Fall Semester - Freshman Year

“Why does winning matter so much to you?” Winning hardly had rewards in life. Sure, there was sometimes money involved on the line but other than financial gain, winning was mainly there to feed the ego. For Natasha, she never viewed Y/n as someone that cared about being number one in life. Based on the few phone calls she overheard, the university felt like a getaway from troubles at home. So why did Y/n even want to win? 

The brown eyed girl sat in confusion. Her pencil was still as she wracked her brain for an answer. By all means, winning is fun. Back in high school, Y/n would naturally win things that being number one felt like home at that point. But having moved on from that mentality, winning wasn’t quite the same in Evergreen University. Well, it’s not like she had a chance to feel it when Wanda Maximoff was around. 

“If I’m being honest…I don’t think I’ve ever worked for a win in my life before.” The two locked eyes as Y/n softly confessed what was long on her mind. She placed her pencil down and gave Natasha her undivided attention. “Studying has never been my thing before up until now. Don’t get me wrong, I quite hate it, but it feels different now. Like if I just beat her once, then that high will be like nothing ever before.” 

“Does she really challenge you that much?” The question sunk into Y/n’s brain and into her deeper subconscious. She sat quietly, overthinking her answer. 

“I think…she’s the only one that ever challenged me at all.” 

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Competition Day - Spring Semester - Junior Year 

‘Why does winning feel so wrong?’ Y/n looked in the mirror, splashing small bits of water on her face to help wake herself up. Rolling her neck, she could feel how stiff her bones were from last night. Unfortunately, the bus was no help at all, only providing mild comfort on their four hour journey. 

Stepping out the bathroom, Y/n wore the tightly pressed and cleaned uniform as Wanda started her speech for the group. “I want to thank you all for joining us today at this competition. For some of you, this is your first time ever attending the conference while for others, you are returning. Regardless, you’ve all earned your spots on this team, so congratulate yourself for that.” 

A couple of applauses were heard as Wanda smiled at the team. She briefly glanced to Y/n who was sitting all the way at the back of the bus. “I know that this bus is carrying some of the brightest minds that Evergreen University has to offer. Without a doubt in my mind, I know we can win this competition.”

Y/n looked away to the view of the hotel where the conference took place. The turmoil in her gut was hard to ignore as she focused on other things besides Wanda’s eyes. ‘Winning is a must. If I want to come back to her here, then I need to win.’ 

“However, winning is not always the priority. Overall, I’ve been more than happy to see everyone grow into their strengths and even improve your weaknesses. Your efforts have been highly noted by both of your captains.” Y/n looked back at Wanda, her stare as confident as ever. 

“We want to thank you all for all the nights, practices, and energy you’ve committed to be in this competition.” Wanda looked over as the bus entered the garage of the hotel. “Okay, everyone come in for a quick send off.” 

Everyone gathered into a huddle, placing their hands in the middle. “On three - one - two - three - Evergreen! Fight! Fight! Fight!” Their hands lifted into the air as Wanda looked at Y/n with a determined smile. 

‘I’m going to win.’ The brunette thought as she stared into those brown eyes, but little did she know the costs of this win.

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The hotel was massive. It was honestly a surprise at how many schools can fit into one place. Some had to fly in, having been more than five hours away. The group followed Wanda to the selected tables meant for Evergreen University. 

“Break into your groups, Y/n and I will be investigating the brackets to see who we will be versing first. We have about an hour before round one is officially called. If you need to change or use the bathroom, this is definitely the time to do so. If you have any questions or concerns, please let Y/n and/or I know immediately.” 

Doing as told, the members immediately broke into their four person group and discussed strategies for round one. When no one came up to ask any questions, the pair walked off out of the conference room, and into the large hall that had many posters hung up with all the different brackets. 

There was a small but comfortable silence as Wanda walked slightly ahead from Y/n, focusing on finding out who they were versing first. While Y/n was also thinking of the competition, she wondered if they were ever going to talk about last night. 

Walking up to the first bracket they could find, Wanda took a picture of it and sent it to the math club group chat for everyone to see. “Princewell University, Maroon State College, and Gale College, not a bad start. Looks like we’re going to easily make it into the second round.” 

Since Y/n was unable to sleep last night, she made use of her time by looking over the bracket. Going over the many possibilities, there was still a high chance of her group making it to the top five. Round one was thankfully full of easy opponents having judged their previous matches with other schools. 

“I agree. Looks like our main trouble is with Harford University. But they’re all the way at the otherside. I’m hoping Legacy College takes care of them so we don’t have to,” Wanda comments. She turned to face Y/n, taking a good look at her clean uniform and brushed hair. 

“I need you to be on your A-game today.” Unsure of where Wanda’s seriousness was coming from, Y/n nodded in understanding. “If you can give me that, I’ll overlook this morning.” 

Puzzled by her statement, Y/n asked, “What are you talking about?” Wanda crossed her arms, trying her best to be level headed at the moment. 

“You wreaked alcohol. Last night was a supposed to be a get together, not an opportunity to get drunk.” The judgment coming from Wanda’s tone felt like a slap in the face as Y/n took one step back. 

“Are you kidding me? I took one drink. I wasn’t the one that was drunk last night. Are you seriously remembering the same night as me?” The small moment with Wanda was all that Y/n replayed in that moment. 

‘Apologize and I’ll forgive you for everything - apologize and I’ll let go of this whole feud.’ Whether Y/n was going to loudly admit it or not, the small ounce that she saw of Wanda’s true personality changed her view of the brunette. Even if the conversation was small, even if Wanda didn’t hear her response, even if it was a drunk confession, Y/n was going to cling to it. 

Wanda was always the girl that was number one but in that small moment, Wanda was just a girl who wanted to win for the sake of not disappointing her father. Because God, how could someone ever be disappointed in Wanda Maximoff? And how could they not see just how amazing she was? 

But as Wanda rolled her eyes, and hardened her stare, Y/n knew none of that moment mattered to Wanda, not when her green eyes still showed some form of hatred. “I remember last night clearly. Everyone in the group arrived and managed to say check in with me. You were the only one in the group that I didn’t even get to see. Once it was late, I went back to my dorm and slept. But it’s obvious why you avoided me - you were too busy drinking rather than focusing on the competition.”

“That’s not-”

“I don’t want to hear your explanation. Your team deserves a good leader and if you can’t provide that, I’ll make sure that math club will be looking for a replacement captain next semester.” The pounding in Wanda’s head was hard to ignore as she walked away from Y/n, not even bothering to hear her side. 

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‘Focus. Everything will be alright if you just focus.’ The ringing in Y/n’s ears was louder than the judge in front of her. The question left his lips almost slipped past the girl but thankfully her teammate, Luke, was paying attention, easily answering the question. 

“Another point for Evergreen University, which solidifies their victory for this match!” Cheers erupted from the crowd as each group got up, giving the other members handshakes for the great match. 

‘I can’t fucking focus.’ Y/n wore a fake smile as she congratulated the other captain on the team, quickly walking off the stage. Ever since her interaction with Wanda, her nervousness and anxiety came back in full throttle. Her mind went from completely tired to panic. And while her drive to win increased, it came with overthinking as well. 

“That was a great match everyone! I’m so proud of you all for being so great for these four rounds that I haven’t had to worry one bit.” Well Y/n did worry, just not for her team’s sake. “I’m going to go ahead and let the staff know about our victory. In the meantime, go ahead and relax at our table. After the fifth round, let me know if y’all want snacks. I can go ahead and purchase them for everyone.” 

“Thank you Y/n. We appreciate it!” Luke stated, he was a returning member of the competition, one that Y/n knew well. Letting the group walk away, Y/n finally brought her guard down as she walked out of the conference room and to the direction of the staff booth. 

‘I can’t believe I fucking froze.’ Y/n knew the question was for her, yet she had to rely on her team member for something she could’ve easily answered. Wiping her frustrations off her face, Y/n tried to compose herself before she approached the staff. 

“School, team, and placement?” The lady wore rectangle shaped glasses. She offered Y/n a kind smile, ready to write the results. 

“Evergreen University, team two, and we won our match.” Y/n peeped her name tag, Laura, as she wrote down the results. 

“Looks like you’ll be versing Apollo College next in conference room seven.” Laura handed Y/n a slip of paper with the information before calling next. 

Shoving the paper in her pocket, Y/n walked past several conference rooms, their doors open for anyone to watch their matches. None of them interested her, but her voice certainly did. Stopping at the entrance of the doors, Y/n watched Wanda flawlessly answer the question. 

The bright light focusing on her group amplified her natural beauty. Y/n could pick up on every single detail, something she already knew like the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched as she noticed Wanda's smile, the same type of smile she had when she got hundreds on tests. 

The anger inside Y/n manifested once more. She could legitimately feel herself start to boil the more she stared at Wanda. It was dangerously coming close to the anger she felt when she lashed out at Natasha that one night. 

Clenching her fists, Y/n walked away from the match, unable to stand Wanda any further with thoughts of winning in her mind. 

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‘You’re making mistakes.’ Wanda stood in the crowd with her arms crossed. The displeased look on her face was hard to miss as she witnessed Y/n make her third mistake of the match, causing another precious point to be missed. Her brain rushed through many thoughts of disappointment towards the girl she used to hold to a high regard. 

‘This isn’t like her.’ But the frown on Wanda’s face deepened, did she really know Y/n at all? Yes, she can admit that Y/n was smart. Smarter than a lot of people at their university. But other than that obvious characteristic, Y/n was admittedly someone she only knew at surface level. They’ve hardly spoken outside classes or math club. Essentially, she was just a stranger that was smart. 

Shaking away the sadness that was snaking through her, Wanda watched as Y/n sat back in her seat. 

The shame that Y/n carried on her shoulders felt massive along with the anxiety that continued to paralyze her more and more. The brown eyed girl was certain of her answer, so when the judge loudly announced that she gotten it wrong, embarrassment flooded her senses knowing that Wanda was in the crowd, silently judging her every move. 

It all came down to the final question of the match. Whoever answers correctly will have to verse Wanda’s team. Luke, once again, got up, ready to answer the question. All eyes were on him besides Wanda and Y/n. 

As the two finally locked eyes, Y/n couldn’t help but drown further in Wanda’s rage. ‘Forget everything I ever said - I do fucking hate you, Wanda Maximoff. And I hope you never forget that.’

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“We need to talk.” Celebrations for Evergreen University were deaf to Wanda’s ears as she held Y/n’s wrist. Quickly, she led them out the crowd and through the near empty hallway outside the conference room. Dropping her wrist, Wanda stood there fuming with anger. 

“What was that?” Y/n didn’t want to speak, unsure of what would be the ‘correct’ choice of words for the brunette. And by the looks of it, nothing was going to satisfy her. Choosing to be silent anger Wanda ever further. 

“This isn’t the time to be childish - you’re making mistakes and if it wasn’t for your team, you wouldn’t have had this spot in the finals.” Y/n clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue. Sure she made mistakes, but it hurt Y/n to realize that Wanda didn’t even care for the ways she did contribute to the team. 

Mistakes were permanent for the girl that was always perfect. That was something Y/n realized now more than ever. 

“Can you not let go of three mistakes, Captain?” Y/n continued to stare off at the other side of the hallway, refusing to make eye contact with Wanda. Her words sneered off her mouth, feeling disgusted at the way Wanda ridiculed her every move. 

“Un-fucking-believable. Dean Holloway was right.” At the mention of the Dean, Y/n’s blood ran cold. Her eyes locked with Wanda’s, as the brunette stood there. “You take everything as some type of joke. And to think I stood up for you.” 

Y/n’s mind scrambled on what possibly happened between Dean Holloway and Wanda. ‘Does she know about my scholarship?’

But why on Earth would Wanda assume such things if she knew about her scholarship? Pressing for more information, Y/n asked, “What did he say?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. ‘Of course that’s what she would focus on rather than her own mistakes.’ Looking at the time, there were twenty minutes left before the final. The brunette should have been using this time to help practice with her team, yet here she was arguing with Y/n. 

“Last week,” Wanda sighed. This all felt pointless to admit but she felt that Y/n needed to know. Maybe this could be what straightened up her act. “Dean Holloway asked me to reconsider your place in this competition.” 

“What?” Y/n took a step back at the confession, feeling more hopeless at how rigged everything was. ‘How could he do this to me?” 

“I told him that I could trust you - that you were the only person besides me adequate enough to lead the math club. Somehow, he managed to let me know that you were slipping in classes. No longer being at the top.” Wanda looked at Y/n. She focused on all the minor details of the face that haunted her mind. But upon seeing how hurt those brown eyes looked, Wanda couldn’t help but falter slightly. 

“I wanted to believe that it was all wrong, but now…” Y/n silently pleaded as her mind went into overdrive. Couldn’t Wanda see how innocent she was? How she had been studying day and night for weeks just to make it another year at Evergreen? Couldn’t she see that this was all for her? 

“I think we should go back to our groups. We need to prepare for the final. But Y/l/n…after this competition, we might have to reconsider your place as captain for math club.” 

How cruel the world must be for the universe to deal Y/n such a bad draw? And how awful it must feel to know that Wanda was the one that delivered the final blow? 

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‘I have to win for me.’ Water dripped down Y/n’s face as she stared at herself in the mirror. There was five minutes left before she was expected to take the stage. Currently, Y/n was in the bathroom, hoping to subside the panic attack that was itching to come out. 

‘Even if the school doesn’t want me, even if Wanda doesn’t want me, I want this more than anyone.’ Gripping the counter for stability, Y/n slowed her breathing down, hoping it would be enough. She wasn’t going to let the world decide her fate even if it had cheated her of a fair opportunity. 

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“Welcome everyone for the final match for the annual math club state competition. I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s top two teams both come from Evergreen University!” Applause rumbled throughout the large conference room as the rest of the school's watch in anticipation. 

Wanda sat in her seat, overthinking her conversation with Y/n earlier. ‘Did I go overboard?’ Sneaking a glance at Y/n, it was hard to get a read of what the brown eyed girl was thinking. ‘Whatever, she needed to know.’

Pushing her thoughts to the back, the brunette focused back on the competition. It was finally her turn to go up as well as Y/n’s. 

“Please find the inverse of the following equation.” Like a switch, everything in Wanda’s mind grew silent as she focused on the question on the screen. In seconds flat, she hit the buzzer to submit her answer. 

“And the correct answer choice was…C, point goes to team # 1.” This was Wanda’s element - this was her reason for being. Glancing at Y/n, Wanda knew her purpose. She was number one and god forbid anyone that stood in her way. 

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The competition went by like a blur. In the first quarter of questions, Wanda’s team led with a gap of seven points. However, after a couple small mistakes by her team members, Y/n’s team was able to catch up and shorten the gap. 

Right now, there are only five questions left. The score remained tied as Y/n tried her best to remain perfect. If things were to continue the way they were, the last question would determine the winner. 

Before she knew it, it was finally her turn. Standing up to take the podium, Y/n glanced at Wanda accidentally locking eyes. ‘I will be the one to defeat you, Maximoff. I will make sure of it.’

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Fall Semester - Freshman Year 

“I’ve never seen you study so much before. It’s kinda freaky.” The two roommates sat around the small circular table in the middle of the room, enjoying a couple of drinks and snacks. Natasha begged for Y/n to stop for at least a small break, having missed talking to her roommate. 

“Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do.” Y/n stretched her legs at her sat position. Rolling her neck around, a couple of pops and clicks could be heard. 

“Why do it? Your grades are fine the way they are.” Y/n looked back at the pile of books on her desk. She never really recalled studying this much before during her high school days. Heck, she’s been able to get by this whole time just by how naturally smart she was. So when she looked back at Natasha, there was this ‘ya know’ look in Y/n’s eyes. “Does it have to do with Wanda?”

Y/n smiled at the mention of the brunette. It was odd at how many classes they were in together even though their majors were entirely different. There was something about Wanda that caught Y/n’s eye. She didn’t quite know what it was and didn’t quite want to delve too much into it. 

“And if it does?” Y/n sipped on her drink, a smirk on her face as she avoided Natasha’s question. The red head shook her head, grabbing a chip.

“Well - you speak of her like she’s a God.” Eating a couple more, Natasha watched as the glimmer in Y/n’s eye brightened every time the brunette was brought up. Like the simple mention of Wanda could make Y/n smile instantly. 

“Wrong, Wanda’s not a God. Gods make mistakes,” getting closer to Natasha’s face, the red head could smell the faint of alcohol on Y/n’s lips, “and Wanda Maximoff does not make mistakes.” 

Y/n leaned back, still drinking the rest of her drink as Natasha looked at her roommate with a puzzled look. “Whatever you say. Just try not to make this a habit now.”

Y/n shook her head, feeling optimistic that she’d beat Wanda soon enough. Probably in the same semester. “I won’t. Promise.” 

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“Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in our state’s history the competition’s fate lied in the last question.” The crowd applauded for the accomplishment as the judges beamed in smiles towards Evergreen University. “.As your judges, we believe this calls for a special problem. We’ve rewritten the last question to make it a more challenging problem.”

“With one point in the lead, if Wanda answers the question correctly, her team will solidify the win. If Y/n answers the question correctly, this competition will proceed to overtime.” 

Y/n and Wanda stood at their podiums, anticipation both killing them. “Here is your question.” 

As the screen showed off the problem, Y/n could feel herself standing tall as she looked over the problem. It was a multistep calculus problem that involved finding the inverse of a 3x3 matrix. Essentially, a problem that would require two pages of work just to find a solution. And by the looks of it, Wanda was already finished with the first quarter of the work. 

Calming her breathing down, Y/n cleared the noise from her head.  She looked back at the problem, digesting all of what it told. ‘This is just another problem, Y/n.’ Thinking lightly back to the days where math was just a fun activity to do, Y/n finally smiled, remembering the feeling where math naturally came to her. 

Letting the feeling sink in, Y/n started to solve it. The crowd waited with whispers and talks of who was going to win. Many people in the crowd believed Wanda would secure another victory as she did in the past. Very few people cheered for Y/n, simply wanting to believe in the underdog. 

A few minutes later, Y/n approached the final bits of her answer, immediately eyeing the answer choice on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat realizing that she could do this - that she could win. 

Before she could reach out for the answer, Wanda had buzzed in first with her choice. Suddenly, everything inside Y/n shut down as she saw Wanda smile once again. It was that infamous smile that she grew so used to. 

‘This can’t be it. This can’t be the end.’ Feeling herself lock up again, Y/n didn’t dare to look at the screen, hoping to save some of her dignity that was barely left. 

Believing the world to be crashing in front of her, she failed to realize that Wanda had made a mistake. The screen glowed in bright red as her answer choice was incorrect. “Y/n, looks like the question is left to you. You haven’t locked in your answer, so what will it be?” 

Y/n looked up, unable to digest that Wanda actually messed up. The Wanda Maximoff made a mistake. Fighting back the smile on her face, Y/n reached out for the correct answer choice, her finger tips grazing answer choice B. 

The smug look on her face was hard to miss. Everyone on her team knew they would come home with the victory. Wanda’s team sighed in defeat knowing that Y/n would answer correctly. 

So why did everything change when Y/n glanced at Wanda? Why did her heart hurt at the sight of Wanda spilling angry and frustrated tears? Why did her breathing stop? And why did all thoughts consume her? 

Wanda never cried or at least in front of Y/n or anybody. She was always the strong and confident girl that knew every answer for every question. She walked like she was untouchable. So how did she mess up? 

‘Please stop crying,’ she thought. Her heart constricted knowing she was the reason Wanda was crying. Yet every ounce of her brain yelled for her to press the damn answer, to finally prove to Wanda that she could be defeated, to finally get the win that she had been craving for since freshman year. 

So why couldn’t she just fucking press it? Looking back at the crowd and at the answer written down on her paper, her free hand crumpled the sheet as her heart overtook what her mind pleaded. 

Feeling like time stopped, Y/n held her breath when those green eyes locked with her. ‘I want to win…I want to stay…but at the cost of this…this isn’t a win.’ 

Beyond logic and reason, Y/n pressed her answer. Confetti blew in the air as the judge announced, “And the winner is team # 1 with Wanda Maximoff as their team captain. Congratulations to Evergreen University!” 

Regardless of what Wanda had ever done, said, or thought, Y/n knew that today was all because the school wanted to so badly pin Wanda against her. But Y/n finally knew better. This will not be the day she wins. This will be the day she was finally okay to be second to Wanda. 

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Many cheers and laughter filled the bus as the group celebrated the Evergreen University win. Wanda had been smiling so hard since the award ceremony that her cheeks started to hurt.

As she looked over the trophy, her eyes couldn’t stop looking at the sleeping figure near the back of the bus. ‘I almost lost it,’ Wanda thought. It was unlike her to make a mistake and if she was being honest, she didn’t know what to blame. 

As much as she wanted to overlook her work, she wanted to leave that mistake in the past and enjoy the win. But as she kept looking back to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word to her since the final match, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. 

Regardless, the drive back to Evergreen was filled with joy as Y/n finally slept after a long exhausting day. 

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Finals Week - Spring Semester - Junior Year

Wanda loved winning…but lately, it had a sour taste in her mouth. Finals week came in full swing, giving zero time for Wanda to dissect this weird feeling in her chest. She had helped some of her friends and classmates with studying, making her even more busy than usual. 

By the time she was done with tests, the sour feeling still sat in her chest. With only two days left, Wanda couldn’t help but lose some sleep over this feeling. Why was winning suddenly so bad? When did it become something she felt guilty for? 

Subconsciously, her mind gravitated towards Y/n. In her dreams, the moment before Y/n answered the final question replayed constantly. It was as if her mind took a vivid recording of the whole interaction. And as she replayed the moment she locked eyes with Y/n, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like the trophy wasn’t meant for her. 

Of course she downplayed the scenario, believing that this was another mistake that Y/n had made for that day. And the words of Dean Holloway, this was something Y/n never took seriously. So why did she vividly remember how Y/n’s eyes looked the moment she had chosen her answer? Why did Y/n look so accepting of defeat? Why was there no anger or thrive behind them? 

And the more she thought, the more she realized how little she saw of Y/n during the whole week. Friday, the last day of the semester, came around. During the test, her mind suddenly diverted to her. So when Wanda looked up and found Y/n in the crowd, she couldn’t help but want to talk to her, to see what exactly happened in that moment. 

Was it something she made up in her head? Was she feeling weird for actually making a mistake in front of people? Was this blown out of proportion? 

Regardless, Wanda didn’t dare describe this feeling as part of missing Y/n. Cause if she had, maybe she would have realized sooner that winning felt wrong this time. Because maybe, just maybe, it had pushed away the person that actually understood her better than anyone else. 

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Last Night - Spring Semester - Junior Year

Y/n Y/l/n,

We regret to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked for the following 2019 fall semester. This decision was not made lightly as the board is aware of the accomplishments you’ve brought to Evergreen University. Nevertheless, the requirement to place #1 in the most recent STEM competition was something we could not ignore. 

We do hope you decide to enroll for your senior year. For further information on financial aid or loan applications, please visit the Bursar’s office. 

Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences

Cedric Holloway 

Evergreen University

The letter sat on the Y/n’s near empty desk as she continued to pack in preparation for tomorrow. It was the last night on campus for every student. While many chose to celebrate it with a party, Y/n chose to spend it alone. 

The silence of her room provided some comfort as she cleared her bookshelf. “Why must I have so many books?” 

While Y/n never imagined this would be where her college career with Evergreen ended, she certainly never regretted her choice. Then again, she hadn’t been home in forever, so that may change soon once she goes back. 

Looking back at Natasha’s fully furnished side, Y/n could feel some guilt rising to her chest as she hadn’t broken the news yet to her best friend. Not wanting to burden the red head with a sad night, Y/n remained silent, hoping tomorrow would be best to break the news. 

As for Y/n’s group, none of them were particularly angry about her mistake. Everyone tried their best to cheer their captain up, providing some comforting smiles and words. None of it truly mattered though. This was Y/n’s choice to make and she fully knew the consequences of it. 

So for the first time in a while, Y/n was actually alone and not studying. That was until she came. Wanda stood in the hallway, thinking of how she would talk to Y/n, to hopefully apologize. She carried the trophy that was mailed in from the conference, one that actually had her name engraved on it. 

But the trophy felt heavy and awkward in her hands, but it was the closest thing Wanda could think of as a conversation starter. Pushing her anxieties away, Wanda walked to Y/n’s dorm, surprised that the door was actually opened. 

The first thing she noticed was the pile of boxes that almost blocked the doorway. Looking past it, Wanda couldn’t help but notice how bare Y/n’s side looked. 

“What are you doing?” Y/n jumped from the corner of her room, hand on her chest.

 “Jesus Christ, Maximoff, can you give a girl a warning?” 

Wanda placed the trophy in the hallway, and walked around Y/n’s room, not caring for an invitation inside. Thinking back to the dorm setup, Evergreen University typically had students stay in the same dorm assigned to them from freshman year all the way to junior year. During senior year, students would be upgraded to bigger dorms. 

“I thought you couldn’t transfer dorms till senior year was closer?” Wanda turned around to face Y/n, the empty side didn’t make sense as juniors typically left their items alone throughout the summer. 

Y/n’s eyes glanced at the letter on her desk. “I’m moving to a new scenery.” She picked up the box with her knick knacks and placed it on top of the letter, hoping Wanda didn’t notice. The brown eyed girl leaned against her desk. She tilted her head noticing the shiny object in the hallway. 

“Is that the trophy?” Wanda looked back, almost forgetting what she came here to do. She walked back to the hallway and grabbed the trophy. Their fingers brushed as Wanda handed it to Y/n. “Wow! It’s…it’s really beautiful.” 

Y/n rubbed her thumb across Wanda’s name. Wanda Maximoff 2019 Champion. “Congratulations by the way. Sorry I wasn’t able to say it back on stage.” Y/n handed the trophy back to Wanda. If the girl was paying attention, she would’ve noted the odd look Wanda gave her. 

Something was different and Wanda hated it. Winning always gave her a high but something about this interaction increased the bittersweet feeling in her chest. “What dorm hall are you relocating to?” Wanda placed the trophy on Y/n’s desk. “I could help you out if you need it.” 

Already ready to help out, Wanda lifted the box of knick knacks, her fingers brushing over the letter. “Wanda-,” Y/n startled herself, not expecting to nearly yell at Wanda, “I- I -” 

No words left Y/n’s mouth as those green eyes stared back at her. Suddenly, all those times where they yelled in each other's face came to mind. How close were they to ever…? 

Y/n sighed, there was no use hiding from the truth now. “I’m actually going back home.” Wanda placed the box back down, still not understanding why Y/n’s things were packed. “I’m-” 

Y/n scratched the back of her neck, avoiding Wanda’s stare. “I’m transferring to Langford University.” An eerie silence settled in Y/n’s room. So when Y/n got the courage to look back at Wanda, she hadn’t expected the teary eyes and offended look on Wanda’s face.

“You’re transferring? Why?” Moving off the desk, Y/n sat on her bed as Wanda leaned back on to the desk. “It’s - complicated. I really don’t want to go into it.” 

Wanda’s hand balled up into a fist. The lack of details pissed her off. “You’re seriously not coming back?” Wanda hated how bitter everything tasted. The sight of her trophy pissed her off even more. 

Y/n opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. She was leaving what she called home for the past three years. Not only that, she was leaving the girl that has been there since her first day. What could she even say?

Before she could admit anything, Y/n’s phone rang, breaking the tense atmosphere. “Sorry, let me take this real quick.” Y/n walked out to the hallway to answer her phone. 

Wanda sighed with her head hung low. What was she going to do now? Being #1 was something her parents always pressured her to do. But ever since she met Y/n, #1 was something that motivated her to get out of bed and start the day extra early. Meeting Y/n meant countless hours studying just to make sure she knew the lessons by heart. Meeting Y/n meant her life revolved around beating the girl in every single thing. And as harsh as it sounded, it was the only way Wanda knew to get closer. 

She turned around and glanced at the open box. There was a various amount of figurines, crystals, and journals thrown in. Wanda picked up a green crystal, one that almost matched her eyes. She remembered the day back in freshman year where Y/n had admitted she recently got into collecting crystals. Wanda thought at first it was a waste of money until she stopped by a local shop. 

The red head could see why it was intriguing to buy them especially when you believe the auras and specialities that a certain rock can bring to your life. So in secret, Wanda bought a sphere of rose quartz and placed it in her room. She didn’t notice anything different in her life but then again, all her thoughts already surrounded Y/n. 

Wanda looked back at the hallway and could hear Y/n still talking on the phone. It felt wrong to steal, especially since that was a no no in the crystal community. But the idea of Y/n leaving her without a single thing to keep for herself felt cruel. So when she slipped on the necklace, as if it already belonged to her, she could feel her heart skip a beat at the thought of Y/n giving it to her. 

Wanda tucked the crystal under her shirt when her fingers brushed the letter once more. The school logo printed on the top right called her name. It felt wrong to intrude, but the more she reminded herself of the situation, the less she cared about her morals. 

Gently sliding the letter from under the box, Wanda quickly read it. Eyebrows furrowed, Wanda read “We regret to inform you…”

Y/n shuffled back into the room causing Wanda to straighten up. “Sorry about that. I need to get Natasha. She’s stuck at some frat party without a ride back home.” The brunette crumpled the piece of paper and tucked it into her pocket.  Y/n was too distracted to notice. “Again, I’m really sorry but congratulations on the win Wanda.” Y/n looked at Wanda with the most sincere eyes. “Incase no one has told you, I’m really proud of you.” 

With one last look, Y/n left her dorm, hoping the Wanda would be decent enough to lock it up for her. And all Wanda could focus on was the sound of her name leaving Y/n’s lips. ‘You never call me Wanda.’

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

‘Like hell I’m going to let this happen.’ Wanda stormed into her father’s office, knowing he would be working another late night. The clear warm glow from his room indicated that he was there. 

Storming through the doors caused him to look up from his computer, clearly unexpecting guests at that moment. 

“Give her scholarship back.” Wanda slammed the letter onto his desk, crossing her arms hoping to show that she wasn’t messing around. The brunette couldn’t think straight about anything after she fully read the letter, and by now, she didn’t know whether to strangle Y/n for not telling her or for her father to even approve such decisions. 

“This decision was not made lightly.” Wanda could read past her father’s sentence and she was not going to take no for an answer. 

“Then clearly you’ve made the wrong decision.” Eric sighed knowing just how stubborn his daughter was. It was unfortunately a trait she got from him. Knowing fully well just how smart Wanda was, explaining this decision was going to be a disaster and a headache away. 

Looking past the letter and into his daughter’s eyes, he’s never seen her be this angry. Sure they’ve had arguments, but they’ve subsided ever since she started to attend college. Eric was hoping it was because Wanda was getting older and more mature. 

But as she stood there, eyebrows furrowed with a frown on her face, it felt like she was 16 all over again. Not wanting to beat around the bush, Eric figured to cut to the chase. 

“She’s a threat.” He didn’t like to admit it, but there was hardly anyone on campus that could match his daughter’s intelligence. This was something Eric wanted to keep. But the more he noticed Y/n move up on the Dean’s list, the more he feared Wanda’s spot would be threated. While he was confident in his daughter’s ability, he simply wanted to keep her spot safe. And that meant dealing with Y/n.

“She’s my equal.” All the guilt from the competition finally made sense. And as more things continued to click, the more Wanda stood in horror at the things she said to Y/n. This was all starting to become a nightmare, one that Wanda prayed to go away. But the look on her father’s face pissed her off even more. “If you don’t, I’m transferring. And there’s nothing you can do that will stop me.” 

Giving him no time to respond, Wanda walked out of the office. There was no time to think about her ultimatum, not when all she could think about was Y/n. 

‘Say something to her, Wanda, for fucks sake.’ It was finally the last day of the semester. Every student was mandated to leave by a certain time. While there was a large crowd of kids with their backpacks and suitcases, all Wanda could focus on was the goodbye happening between Natasha and Y/n.

The brunette had stayed up all night figuring out ways to get Y/n’s scholarship back. At one point, she even considered paying for Y/n’s tuition herself if it meant getting her to come back. But her father would immediately block her allowance if he caught wind of this. 

So far, she hadn’t gotten a response back from him. ‘Maybe he needs more time.’ But time was running out as Natasha helped Y/n with the last box. Percy was already in the driver seat, ready for the long drive back home. 

She could overhear their goodbyes and that Natasha would visit soon to hear the full story. But still, Wanda stood paralyzed, unable to move. ‘What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if I was too mean to her?’ 

And as Y/n got into the car, waving her goodbyes, Wanda stood behind the tree, clutching on to the only thing she had of Y/n. Tears quietly fell down her cheeks, a lingering question on her mind. ‘Did I push you away when you needed me the most?’ 

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[discordantwritings]

Feeling Better

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, we out here monsterfucking, Jinbe has two dicks, oral sex, fingering, double penetration, PiV sex, anal, belly bulge, use lube guys don’t listen to me

WC: 4.2k

Summary: You’re feeling down, but thankfully Jinbe finds you and gives you all the comfort you need.

Notes: sorry I’ve been ✨depressed✨ so I haven’t written too much but then the cure for being ✨depressed✨ was writing Jinbe comfort so. It all works out.

Tagging: @keiva1000

The aquarium bar was lit only by the lights in the tanks at this time of night, slowly shifting shades of blue thrown about the space as you curled up into yourself in one of the crooks of the long bench. You came here to calm yourself down but it seems the melancholy colors only drag you further into your own sadness, tears streaming down your face despite yourself.

You couldn’t pinpoint one good reason why you felt so painfully empty. Every day you were surrounded by people you were lucky to call your friends, going on adventures across the world, helping people. And yet still sadness crept up on you some nights, clenching your chest and refusing to let go despite all logic. The swimming of the fish around you, that normally fascinates you, feels almost fake as you stare at them for far too long.

You’re about to pull a blanket over your head and try and sleep through the tears when you hear heavy footsteps walk by the entrance and then stop. You do your best to stifle your crying but when a voice calls your name you can’t manage to call back.

It’s Jinbe, probably just getting off of his watch. You try and keep your face hidden but there’s only so much you can do as he slowly walks over.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice is soft and laced with concern and all the effort you’ve put forth to stop your crying crumbles immediately.

You can barely see his face through your tears but he’s at your side immediately, kneeling on the ground to be more level with you. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

You shake your head no and bury your face in your hands. A large hand gently rubs your shoulder as you sob. You’re not sure how long you’re crying before you can pull yourself together, rubbing the tears from your face.

“‘m sorry…” You mumble as you dot the remaining tears from your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Jinbe gets up and sits next to you, strong hand never leaving your shoulder.

“No this is- it’s so stupid.” Your voice cracks as you feel emotions creeping up your throat again.

“I can assure you it’s not stupid.” He squeezes your shoulder gently. “Would it feel better if I gave you space?”

You furiously shake your head, suddenly hating the idea of being left alone as you feel tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Do you want me to sit next to you? I could hold you if that would make you feel better.” From anyone else you might have thought the offer was hollow but with Jinbe you know he’s sincere.

“If it’s not too much-“ You don’t even need to finish your sentence before strong arms are lifting you up and sliding you into his lap.

You’re sideways on his lap, legs hanging over his large thigh and your side tucked into his chest. There’s a few moments where you’re stunned out of your thoughts by how easily you were maneuvered and how muscular his thighs feel beneath you. But the second your brain catches up and you realize how tightly you’re being held it all comes crashing back.

You dig your face into his shoulder as tears come out again- you try to tell him that you’re sorry and it’s nothing serious but your words are all lost against his firm heartbeat near your head. It’s not long before he starts to hum, a tune you distantly remember from Brook’s playing, and the low reverberations from his chest to yours help your breathing slow. Eventually you’re able to steady out your breaths- partially from how exhausted you are but more so from the constant presence of your crew mate.

There was something about Jinbe that was always so steadying, even before this moment. An immovable and fierce presence that was somehow still endlessly kind and patient. You’re not sure how that was all wrapped up into one fishman but you were always grateful for it. And now, leaning into his chest, you appreciate him more than ever.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is soft and you feel his thumb rubbing circles on your back as he keeps you against his chest.

“I don’t know…” You answer honestly. “It’s just- I know it’s not logical. And I know once morning comes all these stupid emotions will be gone. Sometimes they just sneak up on me.”

“Emotions are like the tides like that. Controlled by forces we can’t see, ebbing and flowing endlessly. Do not feel silly for not being able to control the tides.”

“That’s…” You huff out a small laugh. “How do you always have just the right thing to say?”

“Years and years of experience.” You aren’t looking at his face but you can hear that wide smile. “And my experience is always available whenever you need it.”

“This is too much to ask of you already.” You say, referring to the fact you’re still being held and comforted despite the worst of your emotions having been spent already.

“It is not. Actually…” He trails off and you look up at him after a few moments of silence. “Never mind.”

Your brows knit together as a traitorous thought that you’ve done something wrong creeps into the back of your mind. “What?”

“No it’s-“ His eyes meet yours and to your surprise you can make out a small dusting of darker blue on his cheeks. “It’s selfish of me.”

“Now you’re just confusing me.” Worries have dissipated but his words still leave you with too many questions.

“I enjoy having you in my arms.” He confesses, movement stilling as he watches your reaction.

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in but when it does you find a heated blush creeping up your neck. You never considered that Jinbe would like you like that, given the species difference, but you realize it’s not weirder than the way you feel in this moment. How much his presence has always made you feel better, how you felt so protected and cared for whenever he was around.

It was more than just the momentary emotional comfort that had kept you seated in his lap past your crying session.

“I… enjoy being in your arms.” You finally respond, eyes darting down to your lap.

Silence hangs in the room as his hand slides up and down your back again in a comforting motion. You find yourself curling up slightly, heels on his thigh as you angle yourself inwards towards his body. Your fingers play with the collar edge of his kimono absently. The blue hue of the room is no longer somber but instead calming as it glows against Jinbe’s similarly colored skin.

“How do you feel?” He asks after some time, gently breaking the silence.

“Better.” You respond honestly, the weight of sadness having long left your chest.

“Is there anything more I could do for you?” His fingers creep up your back and eventually come to play with the ends of your hair.

“Oh- I’m keeping you up aren’t I?” You sit up straight but Jinbe makes no movement to remove you from his lap.

“You are not. I was- forgive me I’m rather out of practice with this sort of thing.” He shifts slightly under you and you look up to see his face almost a whole shade darker.

Everything clicks and heat races through your body. Suddenly all of the contact you have with him feels electric and you fight not to shrink away.

“There is- I mean-“ You fumble over your words but quickly pull yourself together. “It would be nice to completely forget about earlier.”

“Would you like my help with that?” He asks as the hand playing with your hair sneaks around to your collarbone

“Please, Jinbe.” Your words come out nearly breathless and Jinbe does not waste a second.

His hand tilts your jaw up to give him just the right angle to capture your mouth in a kiss. The kiss is gentle but firm and you find yourself melting into his strong arms. His large tusks pressed into your cheeks but you didn’t mind their presence at all. When he pulls away you’re left breathless and before you can go in for another kiss he’s placed a quick one to your forehead before pulling away further.

Before you know it you’re sitting on the bench and Jinbe is knelt on the ground before you, surprisingly dexterous fingers unfastening your pants. He looks up at you as his hands hesitate, checking one last time. When you nod your pants and underwear are slipped off of you in one fell swoop. Before you can hide yourself Jinbe pushes your thighs open, guiding them to rest over his broad shoulders.

“Forgive me for moving fast but-“ He places kisses up you inner thigh between his words. “I need to taste you.”

Before you can say anything his tongue is at your folds, wet muscle pushing through them and playing at your entrance. You whine as you feel his tongue press into you, slowly working its way inside you. You don’t stop yourself from threading your fingers in his hair and pushing your hips further into his face, grinding your clit against his nose. This only seems to encourage him, his large tongue filling you more than your fingers ever had.

“Jinbe- Please-“ You’re not sure what you’re crying out for exactly but Jinbe is ready to give you what you need.

Sharp fingernails dig into the plush of your thighs just short of pain as his tongue slides out of you to dance along your clit. You have to bite back a shout when he presses and sucks against your bud, sensations suddenly overwhelming you as you see white.

Jinbe gently licks at your folds as you come back from your orgasm, eagerly taking as you run your fingers along his scalp. Once he’s throughly cleaned you up he presses kisses up your hip until he’s standing over you.

“Better?” He asks, face shiny with your slick.

“So, so much better.” You respond with a dazed smile, hand cupping his face.

“Good, we can get you back to bed now.”

His response confuses you, and you sit up a bit straighter. “But what about you?”

“This isn’t about me love, this was about making you feel better.” He turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm. “I’m sure I can manage.”

“But what if-“ You shift in your seat, embarrassed despite everything. “What if I want you. More of you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Jinbe speaks again. “Trust me there is nothing more I want right now but I don’t want to… overwhelm you.”

It takes a second for your pleasure riddled brain to fully comprehend what his words are implying but oh yeah- he’s a good few feet taller than you which would mean…

The idea only filled your head with more lust.

“Can I see?” You ask, hands already playing with the tie on his kimono.

He nods and you feel his gaze lock onto your face as you undo the knot holding his clothing together. Whatever you thought you were prepared for was quickly blown out of the water. Not one but two cocks stood flushed and erect under the drapes of his kimono. Different from the human anatomy you knew his started off thinner but tapered to incredibly thick at the base. Both looked like two halves of a whole almost, but you knew just one would be an impossible fit. The challenge sent a new wave of heat through your body.

“Like I said, I don’t want to-“

“I need you inside me.” You cut him off, looking up to lock eyes with him.

He looks at you, stunned for a second before a large toothy grin takes over his face. He surges down to meet you in a kiss, more heated and charged than the one you shared before. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue and you don’t pull away until you’re dizzy from lack of air.

“Stay here for just a moment.” He says before pulling away.

You watch as her gathers up some of the pillows and a blanket, setting them up on one of the nearby tables. You nearly giggle at how carefully he places every pillow and how he takes his time to make sure you’ll be comfortable. Obviously you’d both prefer a bed but there’s no crossover of beds and private space aboard the ship.

At least Franky always reenforces all furniture and bolts every table to the ground. You’ll have to thank him for that later.

When Jinbe is done with his makeshift bed he rushes back over to you and easily scoops you up into his arms. You yelp and wrap your arms around his neck and Jinbe laughs at your reaction. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sat on the table, the blanket and pillows softening the hard wood under you. You keep your arms around Jinbe’s shoulders and while he has to lean down a bit to keep his face close to yours it doesn’t seem to bother him. You try to wiggle your hips closer to grind against him but a firm hand holds you in place.

“I’m going to have to open you up a bit first.” He says as a hand creeps between your legs and his breath ghosts over your neck.

“But you just-“

His teeth scrape gently against your neck and you whine. “Patience. I’ll make it worth your while.”

One of his thick fingers presses into you easily and your head falls back. With more of your neck available to him Jinbe lightly bites and sucks your neck, never breaking the skin or causing you pain but using just enough pressure to make you feel him. There’s something about knowing he could very easily rip your throat out that made your brain fog with lust almost just as much as the finger slowly working in and out of you.

He slowly adds a second finger, whispering praises in your ear as he works you open. “Just like that. You’re taking my fingers so well, letting me stretch you out…”

“I can-“ You moan as his fingers curl inside you and one of your hands flies up to grip onto his shoulder. “I can take more.”

“I know you can love.” He places a gentle kiss to your jaw as a third finger begins to join the first two and your body is finally showing some resistance.

It was a stretch before, certainly, but there’s the sting of being forced open as Jinbe presses that third thick finger into you. He feels your body’s resistance and his thumb quickly finds your clit, rubbing slow soothing circles into it.

“Just relax for me, I know you can do that.” You nod as you take a deep breath, trying to release the tension in your body.

“‘s a lot.” You breathe out, almost jokingly.

“I know baby.” The three fingers are fully inside you by now but they aren’t sliding in and out easily. “How about you tell me how you feel.”

“Full.” You respond automatically, earning a huff of laughter from Jinbe.

“You’re going to get much more full than this.”

“That’s- fuck I need that-“ Remembering what you’re working towards and the deliberate movements of Jinbe finally have him moving without any resistance.

“You’re just about ready, do you feel okay?” Jinbe locks eyes with you, concern and care still prominent on his face despite the clear lust.

“I- um-“ You weren’t hesitating because you didn’t want him inside you- quite the opposite really.

Eyes glancing down for a second at his cocks, flushed and leaking, you can’t help the perverted places your mind goes. Of course you would take whatever he would give you however he would give it to you but…

“Use you words love.” He’s hesitant but firm as his movements still.

“Is there- and if you don’t want this please don’t feel bad but- do you think it’s possible that you could be in there-“ You roll your hips to push his fingers just a little bit further inside you. “And my other hole?”

There’s a painfully long pause after you ask that question- so much that you’re about to backpedal and call off the whole night but the Jinbe drops his head into your shoulder and lets out a loud moan. To your side where Jinbe’s hand helped him lean against the table you hear the sound of wood cracking and you look over to see the table has given in slightly under his grip.

“Fuck you’re so-“ He moves up again so his forehead is pressing against yours. “You’re so perfect. Wanting me to fill you up all the way? Just one of your holes wasn’t going to be enough?”

“No- need all of you.” You move your hips to grind into his hand, the idea that a fantasy you didn’t even know you had was about to come true sending you close to the edge.

“Are you going to cum just thinking about it? Need that from you- give me all that slick so I can get your ass ready for me. You want that don’t you? Want these fingers stretching you out again?” Jinbe might be just as far gone as you are, words almost slurred as he matches the rhythm you’ve set.

His encouragement is all you need, crying out as your walls clench around his fingers as you cum.

“That’s it baby just like that-“ He nuzzled against your cheek as the last of the tremors worked through your body. “Can you lay down for me now?”

You ease yourself backwards and Jinbe makes sure there’s a pillow ready for your head. With one hand he lifts your hips up and slides another pillow underneath them, giving him better access to you. He easily but gently manipulates your body, pushing your thighs up and apart.

“You can put your legs on me if you need to but I’m going to need you to help me keep you open, okay?” His hands knead your thighs, some of your juices from his hands smearing into your skin.

You shift and reach down, using your hands to pull apart your asscheeks for him. He groans as you hold yourself open, his hands digging into your thighs for a second before he remembers himself. One of his hands releases its grip so a finger can dip between your folds, gathering your slick before trailing down. His fingertip circles the right ring of muscle as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you.” You do your best to listen as his finger presses in.

It’s a strangle feeling at first and you have to fight not to tense up as he slowly pushes his finger in further. Once your body is used to the feeling though you can feel the heat seeping into your stomach again as Jinbe works you open, whispering praises to you the whole time.

“You’re taking me so well baby. You’re going to feel so good around me, squeezing me so tight. You can take more, can’t you?” The press of another finger has you tighten up reflexively before you force yourself to relax. “That’s it-“

The stretch of two of his thick fingers stings initially but his actions as slow and careful and the stretch soon becomes almost natural. His other hand leaves your thigh and while it’s getting a bit tiring to hold your legs up and open his skilled fingers working against your clit easily make up for it. You groan as his fingers scissor you open and grow impatient.

“Jinbe please just- I’m ready I need you inside of me.” You whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to go too fast-“ He starts but you cut him off.

“You would never hurt me. Please.”

You watch his hesitance fade away as he leans over you for a surprisingly soft kiss. “Alright love.”

He straightens back out and slides his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss but are easily distracted watching him take his cocks in his hands, fingers covered in your slick pumping each of them a few times to get them coated. He carefully lines them both up, dragging the tip of one over your clit before pressing it slightly into your entrance. Once his tip is seated in you then he pushes his other one in and you are already overwhelmed.

He slowly pushes into you and only gets a few inches before you’re tapping his shoulder, needing him to pause. The stretch in both of your holes at once overloads you and you know you need a bit more time to adjust. He understands you immediately, stopping and running his hands over your skin.

“Take your time, you’re alright, I’m right here with you.” He praises, words and hands soothing you as you take deep breaths.

You’re not sure how long it takes before you’re ready again, but the strange feeling of being stretched out bleeds into something far more pleasurable quickly enough. All it takes is for you to nod before he starts slowly pushing in again.

There’s a few more times you have to stop him but he’s just as patient with you every time, non stop praises flowing from him. Soon enough you feel one of his heads press into your cervix and he stops, holding himself in you. When you look down you see that his whole length isn’t in you- that just wasn’t possible- but you had taken most of him. His hand runs over your stomach and you can see and feel his cocks bulging through your midsection. There’s something so maddening to see your body contort in such an unnatural way to accommodate him that makes your head fuzzy with desire.

“Look at that- fuck- you take me so well-“ One of his hands lightly pushes down and you both moan at the feeling. “You feel that?”

You don’t have any words left anymore, so you just nod and whine as his hips lightly grind into you. One of his hands drifts slightly to hold onto your hip while his other finds one of your hands, interlacing your fingers together. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cocks out of you.

“You’re so tight and- fuck- warm- baby I’m sorry I’m not going to last long you just- you feel so good.” The hand on your hip holds you still as he pushes back into you, pace slow but deliberate as both of you fight to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your brain couldn’t hold any more thoughts, everything pushed out by the overwhelming sensation of being stuffed full. You’re sure you’re going to rip in half at any point in time but honestly you feel way too damn good to care. Both of his cocks drag against every spot you know and didn’t know about, pleasure in every small movement you’re given. After this you’re not sure how anything will ever compare.

“Are you- I can feel it baby- you’re close too? Getting tighter around me-“ His hips move a bit faster now, unable to stop himself from indulging just a bit more in the way you grip him. “You can let go- I want feel it come on-“

His hand leaves your hip so his fingers can press tight circles against your clit and like that you’re gone. You scream- probably, you can’t really hear yourself but something is ripped out of your throat as you cum harder than you ever have before.

“So good- I’m gonna-“

Jinbe goes to pull out of you but you manage a needy- “Inside” and he quickly shoved himself back inside you as much as he can.

You feel as he releases inside you, his cocks pulsing almost in unison as warm cum fills both your holes. You look at him as he looks down at where you are still connected, his cum spilling out around his cocks. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, mesmerized as he watches his cum slowly seep out of both of your holes. He shakes his head quickly, snapping himself out of his trance and immediately gathers you up in his arms. One arm is behind your back and the other is underneath your knees as he holds you to his chest. He kisses your forehead gently, nuzzling into you slightly.

“Do you feel better now?” He asks, a dazed grin on his face.

“Much better.” You respond, knowing confidently any bad thoughts had been shoved far away.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up and to bed.”

You think you could get used to being taken care of like this.

[hyukassubi]

Sorry, The Food Is Cold...

Pairing : Husband!Beomgyu x Wife!Reader

Genre : Angst around the middle, bittersweet fluff at the end

Warnings : Aside from Beomgyu getting a little lonely, none!

Synopsis : Beomgyu waits patiently for his wife to return home from work. The clock keeps ticking, and the food is getting cold...

Content : Beomgyu being lonely for like 60% of the whole fic *sob sob*

Wc : 1.2k words

Tag : @itzzz-yerin

The store-bought gyoza sizzles on the pan. Beads of of sweat trickle down Beomgyu's forehead on this cold night, wiping them off with the back of his arm, sleeves pulled up to his elbows.

The only reason he'd pan-fry the entire bag is because he wanted to have someone to share his dinner with- his lover.

You.

And while flipping the wedges of gyoza-goodness, all he could think about was: 'this would go well with some tea'.

The thing is, you weren't even home.

These past couple of days, work had just been piling up on you. It didn't matter how much you enjoyed your work, too much if a good thing is never really a *good thing*.

But it paid your bills, and all you wanted for you and your husband was a comfy home the both of you could live in for the time being. So, night after night, the hours grew longer, and the longer it took for you to arrive home.

Beomgyu got used to skipping 'golden hour cafe dates' with you, or snuggling up on the couch talking about your work while crocheting that huge floral blanket of yours— you fiddled and played with the wool, he played and kissed your hair. Even hearing the trickle of water as you shower in the bathroom, humming a foreign melody, and he'd smile everytime he heard your voice.

But here he was, at home, couch empty, the only tunes available being the sizzling of oil on the pan and a couple arguing upstairs, and then, a ping on his phone—

A ping on his phone. (Italicize this whole sentence)

Beomgyu jolted to the sink, washing his hands way too fast before wiping them dry and then reaching to his phone and—

An hour had gone by.

Beomgyu finally stood up, skittering into the kitchen. Upon his five-minute search, he scavanged a hoard of tissues, neatly placing them over the dishes. Beomgyu checked his phone again for the first time in a while, only to receive two missed calls from… his high school dance club friends.

He chuckled, walking to… he didn’t know where.

The kitchen? He grabbed a tupperware full of orange slices and walked out.

The living room? The empty couch made without a body to hold to lay on his chest and hair to play with made the apartment seem all the more spacey.

The bedroom? Same reason as the couch, except instead of a couch sits a king sized bed that is empty, not to mention the lingering smell of fresh laundry and flower gardens coming from your closet full of your clothes that have your scent making Beomgyu remember flashes of you.

Beomgyu stood there, in a hall, in the middle of his apartment— your apartment—contemplating.

The balcony it is.

Two hours had gone by.

The thing about Beomgyu was that his voice box never dies out, even after a two hour talkathon with the boys, arguing about how rat infestations in Soobin’s apartment makes his place banned for boys night sleepovers because Beomgyu might just turn his entire kitchen into the korean Ratatouille live action no one asked for but didn’t know they needed.

An intriguing conversation indeed over muscats under the shining stars. Beomgyu settled down for the time being,tracing out figures of kitchenware and forest animals in the sky. Not long after, a semi-cold feeling brushes past him like a wailing ghost in search of heaven in mid-air.

He was lonely.

Beomgyu pressed his lips together, leaning forward from his seat. He thought, maybe if he looked closely enough, somewhere down there, he’d spot a tiny white car planted in the middle of the road, glued in place in that rat trap of traffic.

Except he does see that familiar tiny white car on the road.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened.

My wife!, he thought.

… Although it could just be someone else’s car-

The table started vibrating.

Beomgyu snapped out of his train of thoughts, clinging onto his phone.

“Beomgyu, darling,” that familiar voice that itched the right spots in Beomgyu’s brain flowed into his ears like honey, “I swear, I’m on my way home, it’s just— the traffic is absolutely horrendous right now.” You went on rambling about some sort of traffic light malfunction, a delay at work, bitter coffee that didn’t sit right with your tastebuds and Beomgyu continued to listen , phone pressed to his ears, eyes on the road below simply watching that tiny… little white car.

He didn’t know how long it took until, at some point during all that rambling, he cut your yapping short. “Sweetheart, give me ten minutes—”

“—Wait what do you mean ten min—”

Beomgyu hung up.

He raced to the kitchen, swaddling up two sets of cutlery inside cherry patterned napkins and a tupperware.

If you could drive into the sewers underground sprouting out of the pipes into your apartment, you… wouldn’t because water bills aren’t cheap, not in this economy.

Your forehead slams onto the steering wheel, a loud wail of your horn blaring for ten whole seconds. Home is literally a street-or-two-and-an-additional-U-turn away, you could’ve been home hours ago in the welcoming embrace of your husband, eating his simplistic yet mouth-watering store-bought dishes… holding each other closely while talking about… the future? Life?… Kids? That was still a mile or two hundred away into the future but… it wasn’t impossible now wasn’t it?

Your head fell onto the steering wheel once more.

And when you lifted it back up… Beomgyu???

What… What’s your husband doing on the sidewalk? Waving manically, bookmarking into the tight spaces between car after car.

“Open the roof.” He insisted, he yelled, he- Oh my God, he’s really gonna climb through there???

You felt— What did you feel? How did you feel about this? Is this even real? Your eyes fell on Beomgyu’s left hand, holding onto a small bag.

The roof of the car slid open.

And so did Beomgyu.

Smooth as silk, he dropped into the car.

The roof closed shut.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your question came out confused and flustered all at the same time.

Beomgyu crawled into the passenger seat, unknotting the cloth of the bag. “Thought I’d get some fresh air and make a small delivery!” he passed a fogged up tuperware your way.

For a moment, all you could do is blink. You just blinked. And then, in the next moment, Beomgyu’s tuperware wasn’t clutched in his hand anymore. “This is why I love you so much.” You opened the tuperware, that salty-sweet scent of sauce looming in the congested air.

Beomgyu chuckled. “Because I cook passable food?” Another chuckle, more awkward than the last. “Sorry, the food is cold.”

“Well… you’re thoughtful.” You started slow, swirling a piece of gyoza around the sea of soy sauce. “You’re loving, you’re you. You’re all I want.”

It definitely wasn’t the trick of a million headlights surrounding the happy couple— Choi Beomgyu was blushing, ever so faintly, looking away.

You placed a hand on Beomgyu’s jaw, plopping a piece into his mouth. “Eat up.”

A/n: I had a friend group later in my highschool days whom I thought of as my girl gang once. I've matured since then once I realized how lonely and misunderstood they made me felt, not because they were bad people in any way, but we had different love languages and communication styles the more we grew older *starts playing 'drama' by txt. I wanted to encapsulate this lonely feeling in the form of a fanfiction, though it is neither of the two parties faults. I wanted to write something that made making a bold/first move didn't feel like waltzing on eggshells.

[alekthefox]

Overheating

Boothill fic because I'm OBSESSED!

Have you noticed he has some sort of large plug socket on the small of his back? Mmmmmmmmmmm I have ideas~

(Do tell me in the comments what person you prefer to read in, first person, second person, third person. I really don't know. I just roleplay a lot so this is the type I'm most used to.)

Tags: Boothill has nerve-like sensors on his body, he can indeed overheat, teasing, banter, mention of alcohol, rough Boothill, failed smut (he stops so he doesn't hurt reader) Pairing: Boothill x gender neutral reader (not trailblazer+no mention of lower private parts), 3rd person Context for reader: The reader is a bounty hunter who occasionally teams up with Boothill. They waited outside the workshop for Boothill to be repaired. That reckless man might be good at dodging bullets, even dancing in the crossfire, but a well timed grenade tore him apart. Luckily, his pretty face is unharmed. After several hours he came out. They were on their phone, checking the transaction that just came in as a reward for their work. "Fifty, just as agreed upon. Wanna get a drink, big guy?" Fifty million credits was very little to bounty hunters. It should have been an easy job, like a little thrill-seeking. But this dumbass of a man has no sense of safety. They got away with just a few scrapes unlike him. "You invitin' me on a date, eh?" "Hah, you wish." "Aw, you wound me~ at least let me buy you a drink." They rolled their eyes and started walking, expecting him to follow, and that he did. Not only that but he gracefully passed them like a skilled dancer, walking ahead. Their eyes traced over his literally sculpted body. The man not only chose to make himself have NO ass, but also metal fucking abs... and a jacket that covered nothing. But... there was some sort of exposed hole on the small of his back. A plug socket? It was too large to logically be for anything they can recognize. Out of impulse they put a hand on his back, which he didn't mind, smirking. That smirk was soon to drop. Their hand slid down the middle of his back until their fingers slowly traced the rim of socket. He stopped walking, his back arched and he covered his mouth. He stumbled forwards before spinning around and grabbing their wrist harshly. "What the fudge do you think you're doin'?" Well, that was an unexpected reaction. If that part was so sensitive, why was it exposed? "Curiosity killed the cat. I didn't expect you to be such a whore, exposing a sensitive part for everyone to see." "Well nobody thinks to fudging touch it. I'm gettin' real tired of yer teasin'. Always got yer eyes on my body, always sneakin' in small touches, leanin' in close, stealing my hat--which I'd kill people over-- it's fudgin' annoyin'!" "I plead guilty~." At the mention of his hat they reach up with the unbound hand but he leans away, still holding their wrist. Now the grip gets tighter. Cold, metal fingers like a deadly vice, locked joints so there isn't a way to escape it. He might leave bruises at this point. He turns them around and grabs both wrists to pin them behind their back, pushing them against the nearest wall. The display attracts attention from strangers. Nobody stops to form a crowd, but eyes are certainly on the two of them. They laugh. "Either tell me to stop or do something about it, cowboy." "Fudge."

He presses them against the wall with his body. But his body isn't cold... They can hear the fan inside his torso spinning loudly, the metal heated. He's flustered. His voice is gravely in their ear. "Can't tell if I wanna shut ya up or make you scream." "Well make a choice, big guy. Leave, take me to the bar, or take me to private place." Boothill huffs then hesitantly lets go of them and starts walking. It's unclear which he chose but he did stop to see if they're following so the choice isn't 'leave'. They follow, eyes trailing over his body again, never getting enough. It's his carefully constructed body, it's the way he moves through the crowds, those heels that are actually a part of his legs--of course they are--and the...

He lead them to a hotel. A quite nice hotel. They smile wide with a raised brow. Now this will be interesting. They wonder just what he's got packing seeing as he's literally 90% metal. He pays for a room for one night, and slightly strangely, the next day as well. He opens the door for them and places a hand on the small of their back as they both walk in. As soon as he turns to close the door they hug him from behind, feeling up and down his torso. He huffs, his cooled body now heating up again. They swear they see a bit of steam come from his mouth. He places a hand on the wall in front of him as their hands explore his body and eventually land once again on that plug socket. Gently circling the rim, his body grows hotter, his breathing gets heavier. He's letting them do it but they can tell he's barely holding back. They put a soft kiss between his shoulders as two fingers slip into the hole to see how deep it goes. It goes about to the second knuckle and the moment their fingers brush the end he bends forwards to hit his head on the wall. "That feel good?" He doesn't respond with words, instead with haste he turns around and grabs their hair and pulls them into a bruising kiss. His other hand grips their hip, pulling their bodies against each other. Knowing very well how sharp his teeth are he gently bites their lip. Then he moves onto their neck, leaving kisses, sucking on the skin, and sometimes biting just enough to leave tiny marks of a shark bite. The hickeys aren't enough to mark them, anyone can leave hickeys, but the bites are his mark without a doubt. He wants everyone to know who they belong to. Their hand sneaks to his back again, abusing that sensitivity. He really, truly, growls in their ear and recklessly bites their neck hard. Their entire body reacts to the pain. He apologetically licks the blood off, savoring the taste of iron in it. He's uncharacteristically silent. Luckily he had enough of clarity to bite more towards the shoulder.

They tug on his belt which is an extremely dangerous game. "You want it off? Do it yourself, baby."

URGH, this man is so damn annoying yet so damn hot. They start with the belt, then pants, then underwear, one after the other. But before they can look down Boothill spins them around as if they weigh nothing to him, once again they're pressed chest first into the wall. They protest by pushing back into him. Which is an extremely smart move because then they feel it. It feels like... a silicone dildo. How the fuck can there be nerve-like sensors inside silicone? Then again... how can they be in metal as well? Buuuut then again a lot of planets around the cosmos have different levels of technological advancements. Now was indeed not the time to dwell on the logic of it. Especially as his hand went from their hip to underneath their shirt and up their torso. Cold fingers pinched the left nipple as his teeth grazed their neck. After he was satisfied with their reactions, their sounds, his hand moved lower, his body pressing them into the wall out of excitement, his body almost scalding hot. Just as his hand was to reach there he stops and backs away abruptly. They whine and turn around only to see his head is hanging low, hat obscuring most of his face. Some of the plates on his body have shifted to be ajar for the literal steam to come out, fan whirring loudly. "Well fudge... Had to stop so I don't burn ya. I promise, when I cool down, I'll take care of ya. I swear it."

Author's notes: I am not fucking sorry for ending it like this. Suffer. :)

[fairy-writes]

THE STORY OF US

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu x Reader

Word Count: 4k (PLS READ, I’M BEGGING YOU)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Pretty Heavy AU (idk what to call it tho), Female!Reader, Time Traveler!Reader, Time Traveler!Dazai, Reader is shorter than Dazai

Taglist: @underthetree845 | @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

Notes: I don’t know what I’m doing

VERY HEAVILY RIVER SONG INSPIRED (find my quotes lol)

I might write part two from the Reader’s POV (don’t get your hopes up tho, I’m notoriously bad with writing part two to things, but if I get requests I’m more likely to do it!)

I just now realized that the title is also a Taylor Swift song, but I don’t wanna change it

Also, I’m just saying this now, this is not every scene I had in mind. A lot of scenes got cut for my sanity. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Osamu first discovered he could time jump when he was eleven. 

It had been an accident, really. Well, maybe not a complete accident. Osamu wanted to escape everything—his parents' arguing, their fights. But, of course, he had nowhere to go. As an eleven-year-old boy, there wasn’t anywhere that would hire him. He had no other family that wasn’t across the other side of the world. 

He was completely and utterly alone. 

The shouting was reaching its peak. Osamu shoved his pillow further over his head as if trying to suffocate himself as his mother screamed something at his father. Something about his lies. 

Ha. If only she knew how much Osamu lied. 

Lied about his day at school. (Anything to get her off his back.)

Lied about having friends. (Anything to make them not suspicious.)

Lied about everything. 

The screaming grated on his ears through the pillow, and he ground his teeth until his mouth hurt. 

Couldn’t they just shut up? 

Couldn’t they just go away?

Suddenly, something was different. Osamu felt a tugging in his stomach. It was as if someone wrapped a string around his middle and yanked. Almost like he was being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste.

And then he could hear… water? The sounds of a river that should not be audible even through the open window. Did they even live near a river?

Osamu peeked out from the pillow over his head and was blinded by sunlight. He sat up and realized his pajamas were covered in scalding hot sand. Golden sand stretched for miles and miles, a long twisting river just visible in the distance. On the horizon, he saw pyramids being erected high into the sky. 

What the hell?

And the rest was quite literally history.

December 31st, 1925

New York City

The air was cold. Snow fell in flakes as Osamu watched the snow fall outside the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks as he paid no mind to anyone around him. He had aged since his first trip through time. Though he could never remember how old he was. He looked to be in his early twenties, but everyone looked so different in different time periods, so he could’ve been thirty, and that would’ve made sense. 

“Mind if I sit?” Comes a sweet voice. He looks to his left and sees you. 

You’re dressed to the nines in a silver slip flapper dress with black beads decorating the length of the gown. Your hair was cut in a neat bob, a feather headband decorating the up-do. The kohl around your eyes only accentuates the pretty color. 

Osamu plasters a grin across his features, and you shift. He gestures grandly to the stool beside him, 

“I could do with a gorgeous woman’s company.” He quips, and you laugh good-naturedly before sliding onto the stool beside him. He can feel your warmth through the woolen fabric of his suit coat, and he takes a sip of liquid courage, suddenly feeling somewhat hesitant to talk to you.

There was something about you. Like you knew all Osamu’s secrets already. 

You lean your cheek on the palm of your hand, smiling with ruby-red lips and brilliant teeth that were ahead of their time. 

That should’ve been his first clue. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Where are we at now?” You muse, and he frowns as he sips at his whiskey. This was one of the only bars that still sold alcohol through the prohibition. 

“Sorry, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” He says, and you cock your head, eyebrow raised, as you pick at the seams of your silken gloves. You abruptly stop picking and reach into your clutch purse that rested in your lap, pulling out a worn notebook he didn’t recognize. It was well-loved, with pictures stuffed in between the pages. 

“So we haven’t done France yet?”

“France?” You lean back giddily and hold your notebook to your chest.

“What a night that was! Dancing in front of the Eiffel Tower? That ring a bell?” Osamu shakes his head. 

He had yet to go to France. In all his time jumping, he hadn’t seen the point in going to France,  much less the City of Love. 

Now it was your turn to frown, flipping through your little notebook, and he spies neat handwriting in various languages. English. Japanese. German. Latin. And were those Egyptian hieroglyphs? All throughout the pages, he spies his picture scattered across the ink.

Just who were you?

And why do you have all those pictures and drawings of him?

“What about picnicking at Versailles?” 

Another shake. Another page turned.

“The Titanic? What a messy time that was!”

“What is that?” He eventually asks, and you quickly flip it shut before he can actually read anything. 

“Spoilers.” You say quickly, and when he arches an eyebrow, you sigh, call the bartender over, and order a glass of champagne. The two of you wait in silence until you get your drink. Eventually, you speak after you’ve downed half of your champagne flute. “It’s all of our adventures. Time travel gets complicated, doesn’t it?”

As soon as he connects the dots, Osamu is floored. 

Another time traveler? He thought he was the only one!

It’s clear you pick up on what he is thinking because your face falls. You look heartbroken. As if he just ripped your heart out of your chest and smashed it into a million pieces. As if you were a lonesome star falling from the sky and drowning in the sea.

“You truly don’t have any idea who I am, do you?” Osamu shrugs, 

“Who are you?”

Osamu didn’t know it was possible, but you looked even more upset. Tears welled up in your waterline and smudged your kohl as it dripped down your cheeks. You swallow thickly and sniffle, pulling a handkerchief from your clutch to dab at your watery eyes and ruined makeup.

For whatever reason, Osamu feels his heart ache. 

“I suppose this was bound to happen sometime.” You say eventually, and he looks over at you from where he had just downed the last of his whiskey. You’re leaning both of your arms on the counter, running a finger around the rim of your champagne glass.

“What do you mean?” He asks, and you huff, look at him out of the corner of your eye, and your finger stops

“We always meet out of order. Hence, the diary. But… I just never expected it to hurt this much.” You sniffle again, and Osamu realizes he wants to make it better. He realizes he doesn’t like to see you cry. 

But he doesn’t even know you!

Why should he care if you cried or not?

“If it’s any consolation… I’m sorry…” He says quietly, and you bark out a laugh,

“There’s nothing to be sorry for! I suppose this is just a chance for me to get to know the younger you.” You sniffle, but that bright smile that makes his heart race lights up your face once again. You seem to think something over before standing and offering Osamu a hand.

“Care to walk with me?” You tease him with a flirty wink, and he finds himself unable to say no. 

So, as the clock chimes closer and closer to midnight, the two of you leave the bar, with you each paying for your respective drinks. Osamu offered to buy yours as an added apology, but you just patted his shoulder with a knowing smile and said, “I know you’re awful with money.”

Which… You weren’t wrong. 

Just how much did you know about him?

How much had he told you in the future?

You walk next to him, bundled up in a trench coat not unlike his own and with your hands stuffed in your pockets. Osamu pulls his own (matching) trench coat over his suit coat and slacks and follows you out into the sprinkling snow. You both walk side by side in a surprisingly comfortable silence. At least until you hear people counting down in the streets.

10…

You blink and turn to look at him.

“What day is it again?” You ask, and he looks up at the snow.

“December 31st, 1925.” He replies, and you gape in surprise.

9…

“Y’know, I’ve never celebrated New Year's with time travel and all. Never even had a New Year's kiss.” You muse, watching couples get together on the streets.

8…

“Would you like one?” Osamu blurts, and you nearly trip in surprise. Osamu almost follows suit when you stop abruptly to look at him with wide eyes.

7…

“But you don’t even know me.” You say hesitantly, but you turn to face him nonetheless. He finds himself smiling, a soft, genuine sort of smile.

When was the last time he smiled like this?

6…

“I’m giving my future self the benefit of the doubt and trusting his judgment.” He teases, and you relax, hanging your head with a soft giggle. But you don’t pull away when he slowly pulls you in close to him.

5…

Your coat flaps open, and he sees his father’s initials stitched on the side and realizes you don’t just have matching coats—you have the exact same coat.

When did he give that to you? He swore he’d never give it up to remind himself to never return home!

4…

Your soft arms around his neck catch his attention, and you’re suddenly much closer, standing on your tiptoes in your kitten heels.

3…

His arms pull you close by your hips, and he leans down.

2…

Your noses brush.

1…

The kiss is like the fireworks going off above him. His eyes flutter close, and he pulls you impossibly closer. Your lips are soft with the lipstick, and he doesn’t care that it’s likely stained on his mouth.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The kiss deepens, and you soak up his affection greedily. Like you had been waiting for this forever. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close oh so tenderly. 

Like a puzzle piece being fit into place, his heart sang like a choir in a church.

Were you what he was missing all this time?

Could he finally have this?

Could he—

BANG! BANG! BANG!!

You jolt and fall to the ground as a car screeches around a corner and out of sight.

What?

What happened?

Osamu looks down and feels his heart stop.

You’re crumpled against the cement, blood seeping out of bullet holes in your abdomen. Your dress is ruined. But that doesn’t matter.

Osamu falls to his knees, not caring about the cold, wet concrete soaking his slacks. He pulls your upper half into his lap and applies pressure. You cry out and push his hands away.

“I need to put pressure on your injury. Hold still for me, love.” He whispers to you and turns to where people are still celebrating. “AMBULANCE! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!” He cries, but they’re so wrapped up in their excitement that they don’t hear him.

Your hand touches his face, and he looks down to see you giving him a bloody smile. Crimson leaks from your mouth, and he can tell that you don’t have long.

“Hold on—Hold on, I’ll get a doctor—I’ll—” He stammers in an attempt to calm you (himself) down, and you just spit up blood in a choked laugh.

“We both know I’m not going to survive this.” You wheeze, and he can see the color draining from your face as you lose blood and warmth.

“Then I’ll jump back in time! Time can be rewritten!” You cut him off abruptly with more strength than he thought you had.

“Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare.” You say, hand falling to grip his hand as tightly as you could muster.

“But you’re dying.” He says, unable to explain why his heart is breaking to pieces inside his chest. You cough once more and smile that brilliant smile that he finds that he loves so much.

“It’s not over for you. You’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come.” You slur your words at this point, and he grits his teeth. Your hand goes weak in his, and he holds it even tighter. 

“You and me. All those adventures all over time. You watch us run!” You whisper, and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead just as you close your eyes.

117 AD

Rome, Italy

The crowd roars louder than Osamu has ever heard it. Bored, he watches as gladiators fight in the ring. The arena is bathed in blood, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He hasn’t cared about much since you died. 

He wasn’t even sure why. He barely knew you. But he keeps thinking back to the kiss you shared on New Year’s. He thinks of your words. 

“You watch us run!”

“Is this seat taken?” A voice yells over the crowd, and his heart stutters to a halt. He turns, eyes wide to see you. 

Oh, how cruel this life was.

You’re dressed in a fashionable, long tunic that goes down to your ankles with a shawl of sorts around your shoulders. Your hair is longer than Osamu remembered. It is no longer a bob but instead curled at the front and with a braided crown in the back. You hold that journal under your arm and smile brightly before scurrying over and sitting beside him. 

“Where are we at now?” You ask excitedly, pleased to see him. 

But all he can see is your dead body in his arms. 

Was there some god up above watching this cruel exchange with glee?

What had he done to deserve this? 

“‘samu? Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” 

‘samu? 

The last person to call him that was his mother. Before she and his father began to fight. Back before he could time jump.

Back when things were simple. 

Your hand on his arm has Osamu flinching away, causing you to cringe back as well. You look worried, panicked even, and all for him. 

So you didn’t know yet. You didn’t know you were going to die. 

So, he doesn’t tell you. 

“Sorry, my love, I thought you were a monster here to gobble me up!” He chirps, and your panic melts away quickly. You lean back into his side, and he takes the chance to wrap a bandaged arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You giggle and open your book. 

“Where are we now?” You repeat, and he shrugs, 

“You tell me.” He says, keeping his eyes off your book out of respect and on the gladiator games below. 

“France?”

“Not yet.”

“The Wild West? That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Nope.” 

You two go back and forth for a moment before you ultimately sigh and clap your book shut. 

“It’s very early for you, isn’t it?” You say, mildly exasperated. Osamu nods silently, heart twisting when you set your book down and lean heavily into his side. He trickles his fingers along your neck, feeling goosebumps rise along the skin, and you shiver. 

The games end, and you shuffle out of the Colosseum and through the streets of Rome. You boldly take ahold of Osamu’s hand as if this was regular for you. He can’t bring himself to let go, so he instead makes you laugh by swinging your arms between you, occasionally twirling you in a circle. His chilton feels suffocating despite it being made of linen. 

But he can’t bring himself to time jump away. To leave you alone to spare his own feelings. 

Perhaps it’s the overwhelming guilt he feels?

Perhaps it’s because he finds himself enjoying your company. 

Either way, he allows you to pull him around the ancient cobblestone streets of Rome. Enjoying the markets and public museums that were beginning to pop up all over the city. 

The entire time, he doesn’t let go of your hand. 

August 8th, 1912

The Wild West

It’s hot. 

Almost overwhelmingly so. 

Osamu peels off one of his gloves and fans his face with it as he climbs the steps to the little cabin he had been staying at. His bandages itch with the heat, and he has a sneaking suspicion that they’re slowly soaking with sweat underneath his borrowed button-down, vest, trousers, and chaps. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he liked this place sans the heat. The people in this little settled town were kind, barely batting an eye when he suddenly appeared in their home. The people he was currently staying with, an older couple named Buck and Bonnie, welcomed him with open arms. They claimed it was because he reminded them of their son, who was out settling the rest of the West. 

“Osamu? Are you done already?” Bonnie asks where she’s putting a pie on the windowsill to cool. Apple, by the smell of it, and utterly delicious. 

“Just taking a break, Bonnie. Buck works me to the bone!” He says and collapses on the couch, his spurs jingling as he kicks his feet up over the edge of the sofa and leans his head back, tipping his hat down over his face. He hears Bonnie say something, but he’s already halfway to dreamland. 

Despite only intending to sleep for a few minutes, Osamu naps for the better part of an hour. He only wakes up when he hears the whinny of an unfamiliar horse and quick steps up to the cabin door. Then, an excited set of knocks. 

“Can you get that, Osamu? I’m busy with supper!” Bonnie calls from the kitchen, and he calls back, saying that he would. 

Only to come face to face with you. 

It had been ages since he saw you. He had yet to see you at any significant historical events that he time jumped to. The Titanic, the moon landing. Hell, he hadn’t even seen you during World War Two when he was accidentally drafted!

“You!” He jabs a finger, and you grin adoringly, stepping under his arm and skipping to the kitchen. 

“It’s me, Granny!” You chirp, and he hears a delighted squeal. 

“Dearest! It’s been ages!” 

So you’ve been here before. 

Several times by how familiar Bonnie seemed with you. 

Osamu meanders his way into the kitchen, where Bonnie is wiping her hands on her apron. She grins at the sight of him,

“This is Osamu! He’s been helping Buck around the farm for the last few weeks!” She says, and Osamu tips his hat with a wink. 

“We’ve met before.” He says, and you jump up from where you had been sitting at the dining table and throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“‘samu!” You cheer, and he returns any affection greedily, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He’s still unable to get the sight of your corpse out of his mind. But he vowed that if he ever saw you again, he’d accept any love you’d give him. 

You’re dressed the part of a cowgirl. A long calico skirt and long-sleeved button-down. Your hair is longer than he remembered, tied back in a braid, and a bandana around your neck to protect you from the harsh sun above. Your hat sits on the table, and so do your gloves. 

Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. 

It isn’t long before Buck is called in for dinner, and the four of you eat together. You sit to Osamu’s right, with Bonnie to his left and Buck across from him. You chat happily with the couple, and Osamu is content with just sitting and watching. You tell an obviously edited version of your adventures, with grand sweeping gestures and voices to accompany your tales.

Long after Bonnie and Buck go to bed, Osamu finds you on the swinging bench on the front porch. You’re writing in your journal, about halfway full, and sketching a picture of him.

It’s an incredible likeness to his face and rather impressive to look at. You even got his cowboy hat right.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, and you jump, slamming your journal shut and looking up with wide eyes. But you realize it’s him, relax, your shoulders sagging, and nod with a smile. The wood creaks as he sits at your side. His arm stretches along the back like it belongs there, and you lean into his side. He relished in your warmth.

“Have we done Rome yet?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“I was thinking of going there next, though!” You say, and he nods, leaning his head against yours.

“How come you never go to big events?” He asks next, and you hum with a shrug,

“I like the little days. I like seeing how people live their day-to-day lives.” You say, and he can’t help but laugh. 

You were truly the exact opposite of him. 

You swat his chest, 

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry with mock anger, but a smile curls the corners of your mouth. Like you liked hearing him laugh. You give him pause when you lean up and press a kiss to his nose. He freezes, blinks several times, and stares down at you. 

“I love your laugh.” You say, and his smile falters just the slightest bit.

No one liked hearing him laugh.

Not since he left home, at least.

But you were his home now. 

October 31st, 2012

Yokohama, Japan

Fog rolls through the streets of Yokohama. Osamu strolls the streets, hands in his pockets. He was alone. At least for the time being. At least until you showed up again. 

If you showed up again. 

No… You would… Osamu had faith. You usually did on the small days. 

Whenever his nightmares got particularly bad, he’d time jump to a place he thought you’d like. This time, it was Yokohama, Japan. Notably, it was Halloween. Nothing ever happened on Halloween. Well… except for that one time… 

Oh, whatever. 

He had been here for a few months, finding himself at peace in modern-day Japan. He discovered his parent’s graves and realized he was home. 

At least… when he wasn’t with you.

Until he saw you crossing the street. 

You looked younger than he had ever seen you before. Another young girl walked beside you, both of you dressed in Halloween costumes and laughing amongst yourselves. 

But the longer he watched you, the longer he realized something. 

You wouldn’t know who he was. No, no, no, it was much too early for that. He had never seen you so young before. Not even in pictures when you had shown him at Versailles. 

Was this before you began to time jump? 

Suddenly, a hand smacked the back of his head, and he flinched, turning to see his newest acquaintance, Kunikida Doppo. He was shouting something. Something about being a bandage-wasting machine. Something about being a lowlife. He didn’t bother listening. 

Instead, he looked back to see you looking at him. There isn’t the faintest glimpse of recognition in your eyes. Nary a clue of who he is. 

You genuinely don’t know who he is at this point in time. 

You lift a hand and wave with a friendly smile, unknowingly making his heart crack in two. 

So, he turns, walks past Kunikida without a word, and heads back the way he came. 

“Dazai!” Kunikida’s voice, and he hears his acquaintance (He doesn’t have friends. He’s utterly alone in this world.) running up behind him. 

“What is it, Kunikida.” His voice sounds oddly monotone, and he knows he has to get you out of his head before he breaks down. He can’t ever come back here, not without causing a paradox and ripping Yokohama apart. 

And that would mean he would never see you, ever. 

“Are you okay?” Kunikida’s voice makes him stop. He spins with a plastic smile on his face and his heart threading to pieces. 

“Of course I’m okay! What makes you think otherwise?” He titters with an all too fake-sounding laugh. Kunikida looks uncharacteristically solemn. 

“Well… For instance, you’re crying.” He says, concern seeping into his tone. 

Osamu reaches up and touches his cheek, finding that it is indeed wet and glistening with tears. 

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Smoke session (modern!Criston Cole x Reader)

synopsis: When Criston arrives at your place for a smoke session the two of you don´t know what is about to happen, but one thing is for sure, Neither of you is going to complain about it.

warnings: drug use (smoking weed), smut, pwp basically, mutual masturbation, 69, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v, afab reader

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bucknastysbabe

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“My knight in shining armour!” You greet Criston the moment he steps out of his car to walk up the driveway.

On bare feet you tap over the warm stones to wrap your arms around him for a moment before taking the plastic back out of his large hands. Then you pull him into a quick hug, earning a chuckle as he hugs you back.

“Have I ever told you that you are the best?” You giggle as the two of you go back inside.

“You might have mentioned something like that once or twice.” He chuckles, letting his dark eyes rest on you.

“Well, it can't hurt to be told again. Can it? Now come on in. I got everything ready. The only things missing are you and the snacks.” You urge him forward, settling on the couch and spreading out the bags and tubs next to drinks and spoons. Meanwhile Criston lights up the pre rolled goods and starts up the movie. Smoking and watching the TV is interrupted with little bouts of comfortable chatter here and there. While fleeting eyes caught as many glimpses as they could.

The way his lips looked wrapped so securely around the tip and how they formed around the smoke looks too tempting.

When the bud becomes too warm for you, you turn to him.

“You wanna shotgun the rest?” You hold up the bud that has two drags left.

“Sure.” Comes Criston's answer and to your surprise he plugs it from your fingers.

You shift so you can face him on the sofa and watch Criston's chest expand as he takes a deep drag from the joint. Shivering under his touch pulling you closer. Until your lips sealed for you to suck the smoke out of his lungs.

The action makes your face burn just as much as the harsh cough from the burning smoke of the weed in your lungs.

“Shit.” You curse out loud in a hoarse voice, bowing forward and away from him.

The warm palm of a hand rubs soothing circles into your back all the while. Gratefully you accept the bottle of water that you are being handed.

“Are you good?” The dark-haired man asks with a lingering smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I´m fine. Just burns a bit.” You rasp through the unpleasant sensation in your throat.

You are still coughing lightly when you take the next drag from the joint. The two of you had been so close and the feeling of his lips on yours was out of this world. Yet your friendship had never alluded to ever potentially going in that direction. Ever.

You try to concentrate on the movie, but the little plot in it makes it all the harder.

Taking a deep breath, you let your hands slide off your body, to allow them to rest against your sides comfortably, unknowingly touching his thighs as well. Your attention is dead set on the movie that is playing on the tv and Criston´s even breathing beside you. Though it is hard to hear and understand what was going on in the movie. The two of you are quietly enjoying the buzz and the total relaxation it brought along. The silence between you is only broken when your fingers twitch instinctively. As a reaction to the movement against his thigh, Criston lets out a breathy whimper.

For the first time today, you allow yourself to really look at him, committing every last inch of him to your memory. The way the pristine white tank top puts his dark chest hair on display, the way his head is laid back to rest on the sofa as a new joint hangs from his lips. The picture your influenced mind paints is a very different one however. One that has you rubbing your thighs together in search for stimulation unconsciously.

Behind your eyelids there is a picture of Criston in the same position, but his eyes flutter and his whole body trembles. Chest heaving from overwhelming stimulation. Unbeknownst to you his thoughts drift off in a similar direction. The shorts he wears are growing tighter by the minute as his hardening cock twitches in its confines. Even more so when One of your tentative hands creeps up to lay high on his thigh, your thumb rubbing circles into it. One look towards you and he sees you sitting beside him still, eyes on the TV in a blissed-out gaze. Another shuddering breath as your thumb subconsciously pressed down a little. Instead of saying something though, one of his hands reciprocates your touch in kind. Running the length of your thigh and letting the tips of his fingers brush against where you wanted him most at the moment. There is no need for any words, you move your hips closer to his every touch and soon his hand finds its way to the zipper of your shorts, dipping below them into your lace panties easily. Slipping a finger into your wet hole.

You sigh and arch your back as he almost immediately adds a second finger and curls them inside the fluttering cunt. The sensation has his cock stirring in his pants once more, this time against your palm which had found its way up to his crotch. Freeing the hardness from the pants just enough to tease Criston back.

Swiftly you lick your palm and run it along his length. Tugging at it and teasing the sensitive tip with your thumb, earning a deep groan. Criston´s thumb toys with your delicate pearl and you completely let go.

“Oh fuck. Feels so good.” You rasp as your thighs around his hand.

It leaves more space for his thick digits to slip in deeper, reaching deeper. A pleasurable hum is the answer.

“Don't stop.” He groans. “Just like that.”

Criston passes the joint to you and steps up the pace at which he pumps his fingers into you. Just as you tug on his length faster. Neither of you can hold back the heavy breathing and escaping whines and whimpers. This had never happened before, yet there was not a single piece of mind going to that fact.

“I'm close, please…” You whimper.

The joint long forgotten in an ashtray to the side and both of your bodies trembling under the other's hand. Only for it all to suddenly stop and Criston's hand to remove itself from your core.

“I want to taste you first. Please.” Is the needy reaction you get.

Clothes carelessly fly everywhere and before you can even think of getting in any position, Criston lays down on the couch and gently pulls you by the hips until you hover over his face. Hands propped up on his bare thighs, gasping for air as his tongue takes the first taste and his beard tickles your inner thighs for the first time. He laps at your cunt like a starved man, little whines and moans sending small shocks up your spine whenever his lips connect to your dripping centre. A particularly angled swipe of his tongue has you falling to your elbows with a squeak at the intensity of it. So, to ground yourself you begin to place kitten licks to the tip of his weeping cock. Watching it twitch at receiving your attention. Licking your lips, to take it as deep into your throat as possible.

Your throat contracts around the girthy length, struggling to adjust to it. When you get accustomed to the feeling, you begin to bob your head in a pace that loosely matches the pattern of his treatment of your core, using hand to tug at the skin left untouched by your lips and hollowing your cheeks every so often.

“You taste so sweet...” Criston whimpers.

The words make your heart beat faster and your inner walls clench around his tongue as you moan around his thick length. You hollow your cheeks once more and then let him go with a wet pop.

“I need to feel you inside of me. Want you to fill me up.” You finally give in to your desires, letting them lead you.

Your legs tremble and close around his body from the overwhelming pleasure. In the blink of a moment, after you get off Criston and immediately his strong hands grab your hips to lay you on your side in front of him, his chest pressed to your back and one arm sneaking between your legs to hold them open. His heavy cock teases your folds once, twice, thrice before slowly burying himself deep inside your velvety walls. You look over your shoulder and the sight of Criston biting his lip is heavenly, but when the moan he tries to hold back comes out as a deep, animalistic groan you are ready to come then and there. One of your arms comes up for you to tangle your fingers in his dark hair. When Criston pulls out to thrust back into your wetness, it clamps around him, pulling a whine from his lungs as his head comes to lay against your shoulder blades. Open mouthed, wet kisses and hot, heavy breaths hit the skin there, leaving behind goosebumps. Every thrust is angled perfectly to hit all the right spots as Criston ruts into you. Your free hand claws at the cushions and anywhere else on the sofa to process the pleasure that burns through your bodies incredibly high, the flames stoked by the weed you had previously consumed. Now you are consumed by every nerve ending burning, craving his touch, always craving more.

“You feel so good.” Criston groans behind you. “So perfect for me.”

The sounds from him grow louder and more desperate over time and the harmony they make with your own moans drives you closer to the edge.

“Fuck me harder. Please, I want more.” The words fall from your lips without thinking about it.

Your mind is too busy to grab a coherent thought even if you tried anyway. It´s entirely occupied by Criston and the way he makes you feel so incredibly good. It’s something you had dreamed about for a long time and even if neither of you admitted to it, so did he.

Immediately Criston complies with your plea and thrusts into you not only harder but also faster, however when the hand that holds you at the hollow of your knee to keep your legs apart comes down to play with your clit, your back arches away from his chest until it can´t go further. If your legs wouldn´t have still be held open by Criston´s arm, they would surely fall close from how heavily they were trembling. Your orgasm is fast approaching, and he is right behind you, nibbling on the skin right underneath your ear. Giving you barely enough time to breathe between the whimpers he pulls from you. The mindless pleas and praises from Criston have long stopped to register in your brain. Only his voice still goes through, and you want it to never stop. The sweet, lust broken tones of the usually smooth timbre are overwhelming.

His thrusts begin to falter as your walls flutter around him the closer you come to the edge of pleasure; the circles he rubs into your aching clit tighter than before with more pressure. You can´t even warn him of how close you are before you feel yourself begin to fall.

Your body shakes and your cunt contracts around Criston´s cock to pull the most desperate whine from his lungs yet as his thrusts grow even sloppier. His teeth sink ever so slightly into your shoulder and with your hand pulling on his hair, he buries himself into you one last time, filling you up until his cum flows back out of your centre.

“I can´t believe this hasn´t happened earlier.” You giggle when you find your words again. “You are so good.”

“You wanted to do this before?” Criston asks with a raspy voice.

There is no surprise in his question. It is more of a recognition of his own similar desires.

“Hm, I did. Watching you smoke just kind of does it for me I guess.” It was an inexplicable attraction that had pulled you to him during your recent smoke sessions, but for sure one that you are more than just happy to have explored.

His hand rests on your cheek when he turns your face towards him. Inside of you his dick stirs, twitching and rising to life again.

“So, does that mean you are ready for another round?” He asks with a mischievous smirk, already beginning to ease his sensitive cock in and out of you.

“Oh, fuck. Yes.”

[moremousewrites]

Unforseen Events

Pairing: Astarion/Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon the Last Light Inn, you discover an interesting substance in one of the rooms you've been boarded in. Astarion has an idea how to use it, but so do you. The night just might yield a surprising result for the both of you

Tags: Smut, light angst, Shadowheart mentioned, rimming, anal fingering, miscommunication, handjobs, canon compliant lubrication

A/N: okay Tav (reader) is technically gender neutral in the sense i didn't describe them or use gendered pronouns however the context could imply they're afab. But it could be interpreted either way if you so choose. Either way please enjoy!

The Last Light Inn was a safe haven amongst the blight of the shadow cursed lands. Your party was exhausted after fighting its way to sanctuary, and Jaheira, the head harper allowed you shelter for the night. You thanked her, and made your way to the rooms that were available. 

Upon opening a communal closet you found several ornate bottles. “Huh, what's this?” You asked, turning one bottle in your hand.

Shadowheart inspected the object “Aloe oil. It's useless, it has no healing properties. It's worth more to us to sell” she took it from you and held it to the light to confirm its contents.

“Well, not useless. I can think of a couple of ways to use this” Astarion piped up from behind you, picking up another bottle from the shelf.

Shadowheart scowled at the veiled comment. “How very crafty of you. Perhaps you can use it to slip out of our lives forever” she placed the bottle down and left the room before Astarion could retort.

“What do you say, darling? Care for a demonstration?” Astarion asked, flashing his charming smile at you.

“Oh! Sure, I'd love to” you examined the substance in his hand. “tonight then?”

“Every waiting moment will be agony” He flourished his hand, adding emphasis.

After taking a well deserved bath, scrubbing off the blood and dirt from your body, you met Astarion in a private room. He was shirtless already, and had groomed and perfumed himself. He seemed to have set the room with carafes of wine and water, candles lit various surfaces as if this were a ceremony.

You strode over to him, kissing him where he stood. His hands found their way to your ass, rolling your hips onto his as you sucked his tongue into your mouth.

“I must confess something” he broke the kiss. You hummed in inquiry. “I've wanted to do this with you for quite some time”

“Oh I have to confess something as well. I haven't done this in a while, I might be a bit unpracticed” You give him a faint smile as he squeezes your ass tighter.

“That won't be an issue my dear, let me guide you” Astarion used his practiced charm on you, ready to take control.

You gave him a look that was hard to read. “Are we on the same page here?” 

Astarion feared he pushed for something you're not quite ready for. He thought you knew what he was suggesting when he mentioned the oil's usefulness. “I… thought so. What exactly did you have in mind, my sweet?” Preparing for the worst, Astarion expected rejection. Perhaps you just wanted a vanilla romp in bed. He could work with that. But you'd been experimental up until now, and Astarion was unsure where the confusion lied.

You gave him a mischievous look and pushed him onto the bed. 

While you'd taken him by surprise, he was much more interested in what you had in mind at this point and let you take the lead- for now.

You took off his pants, pushing his legs up “what are you-” he's cut off by the feeling of your tongue pressing against his asshole, causing a pinched cry to eek from his lips.

“Is this okay?” You pulled back in concern, never having heard the sound come from him before. Its raw pleasure, completely unscripted and unfocused on you. Astarion isn't totally sure of the answer but he knows it feels good and nods anyway. “I need your words'' you insisted.

“Yes, please keep going” he spoke, more breath than voice. 

You pulled his ass cheeks apart and tongued his hole again, circling the tight ring of muscle. His cock pulsed against his stomach and you looked up to see his precum smear against his stomach. 

His hands were fisting the sheets, desperate to remain in control, but when you form a tight grip around his balls to constrict him, his back arches and he breaks

“Please, Tav, please give me more. My cock, my ass, anything”

It's a side of him you've never seen before. He's never surrendered to you this way and it's beautiful. You're honoured.

You pull away from him, causing him to whine in defeat, only to uncork the aloe oil bottle from earlier. The substance is cooling on your hands, and fantastically lubricating. 

You lather your hands and take his weeping cock first, stroking him slowly as he as his hips meet your hand to match your pace. He's so desperate for your attention you don't dare stop him now. 

“Tell me if it's too much” you warn him and lightly prod at his asshole with a lubricated digit, toying with him. He groans in relief when you slide your first finger in, pressing your knuckles against his ass.

He's panting now, begging you through stuttering breaths, “more, please” his cock twitches in your hand as you roll your thumb over his red tip.

Another finger slips in and you scissor them, spreading his hole for your fingers as you begin pumping them in tandem with your other hand. Astarion's hips are undulating against your thrusts, bucking onto your fingers as he reaches his ecstasy. You see it in his taut muscles, his tightened balls, he's nearly there.

“Come for me, Astarion, let go” your words are a reassurance, not a command. Still, he isn't quite ready to come undone.

You curl your fingers upward inside him and as he descends upon them, his pleasure shatters him. 

Astarion let out a sound that could only be described as a howl. The intensity of his orgasm frankly shocked you. His spend shot as far as his chin, and covered the expanse of his chest. He shuddered as his cock softened in your hand.

“Astarion? Are you alright?” You asked, concerned by his new demeanor. From the few times you'd laid with Astarion, he'd only ever focused on your pleasure, though you really insisted on pleasuring him. His orgasms had always been quite restrained, especially compared to this.

When you removed your fingers from him, he blinked, as if awaking. “Oh? Yes, that was-” He looked down at himself and to you, perched between his legs, eyes filled with worry. “You said you've done that before?” He asked, a bit lost for words. 

You smiled, taking some rags off of the nearby dresser and wiping off his chest. “Yes, plenty of times. Though it's been some time as I said before,” Astarion felt an odd twinge at your admission. He knew you weren't particularly picky with your bedfellows, hence his situation with you. And it made sense he'd feel territorial over you, he needed you for his arrangement to work. But it seemed he actually felt… jealous.

“Have you?” You asked, wiping your hands.

“Yes, of course” he answered, curtly. So why did it feel different? Why did it feel good?

You both sat in silence for a moment, sitting in each other's presence. 

“May I ask, how did you expect tonight to go?” 

Astarion sat up, meeting your eye and giving you his charming smile “Truthfully, darling, I expected to be the one inside your ass tonight” 

You try to suppress a chuckle only to let loose a hearty laugh. Astarion recoils from you, scowling. “Oh, I'm sorry, it's not funny, really. It's just that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. You see, I was never really much of a ‘receiver’. At least, not before I met you. But I can see why you thought that now” you explained, trying to reconcile the situation. “I suppose we both should work on our communication skills in the future. But I'm open to the idea if you still are” you offer him your hand.

Surprising the both of you, he takes it. “Well, we've still got a few bottles of the oil left” he nodded to the shelf. 

“I'm up for it if you are” you leaned in to kiss him, and Astarion reciprocated. 

“Yes, I believe I am”

[morganaspendragonss]

part four: at a family event

my contribution to the birthday event for the wonderful @lire-casander !

era: break up prompt: at a family event tags/warnings: blood, kitchen accidents, unsavoury comments personal notes: lire, mi querida!!!! te quiero tanto y espero que hayas gustado este regalito, te lo mereces! eres una gran amiga y no puedo decirte lo mucho que te aprecio; con suerte, un día nos vemos otra vez. conocerte es un privilegio y fue un placer escribir esto por ti. espero que hayas tenido un buen cumpleaños y te deseo lo mejor para el año que viene. con amor, holly xxx

ao3 | 1.1k | please check ao3 for spanish translations

It doesn’t matter how old he gets, Sunday dinners at Tía Lucy’s will always take Carlos back to his childhood. The ranch has barely changed in all these years, still the same hand-crocheted doily covering the same oak dining table that has seen many a Reyes family gathering. The same pictures hang on the wall, the same smell filters through from the kitchen, and the noise that greets him before he’s even halfway up the gravel path is the same.

The door is already open – everyone is welcome at Tía Lucy’s table, including whatever animals might choose to venture in – and Carlos has to smile as he steps into the well-practised chaos. It’s a welcome distraction from the silence that has filled his life ever since TK left two months ago.

It’s his own fault, really, for letting himself get so used to having the 126 around, the unpredictability they brought to his days. They still reach out every now and then but… He knows they’re just being polite. He knows they’re on TK’s side.

He’s lived most of his life in silence, but this time it’s different. This time, he let himself believe it was over for good.

But at least he still has days like today. Ana’s kids are instantly on him, Isabela chattering about the swimming badge she earned this week and Diego trying to drag him out back to referee their soccer game.

He’s saved by his mother crossing the room to wrap him in a hug.

“Hola mamá,” he greets, breathing in the smell of her perfume; something else that hasn’t changed in all these years.

“Ay, mi Carlitos.” She squeezes him tight, then pulls back and scrutinises him. “Te ves cansado, mijo, ¿estás durmiendo?”

He rolls his eyes fondly and takes a step back. The truth is, he hasn’t been sleeping well, but his mother doesn’t need to know that. “Sí, mamá.”

She hums like she doesn’t believe him, but doesn’t press the issue, which is a relief, though it doesn’t last long; only until her next question, in fact.

“And TK?” she asks, craning her neck as though TK might be hiding behind Carlos.

Carlos swallows and drops his gaze. “Working,” he says, which might be true for all he knows. Or maybe he’s out with the gang, or maybe he’s not in Austin at all. Or…

But it’s none of his business.

If his mother notices anything amiss, she doesn’t comment on it; she just pats his arm and says, “You tell that boy he works too much.”

And then, “We miss him, you know.”

It’s this that stops him so firmly in his tracks, that makes the ache he’s tried so hard to squash flare and consume his entire body. His mother’s words, We miss him, you know, cut him down to the bone, because they remind him of just how much more than TK he lost that day. He lost his family too, this relationship with them that he was just starting to get back.

Carlos wishes, briefly, viciously, without really meaning it, that he’d never met TK at all.

“Carlitos?” His mother is looking back at him, frowning, and she comes closer to cup his cheek, searching his face for answers. “¿Qué te pasa?”

For a moment, the truth begs to be told; he even opens his mouth to let it pass. But the words stick in his throat, sour and sharp, so Carlos swallows them down again and smiles, taking his mother’s arm. “No te preocupes, mamá,” he says. “Estoy bien.”

*

Dinner is loud and Carlos is grateful to be able to slip away to the kitchen, with the excuse of doing the dishes, once it’s over. He loves his family, but being around that table, squashed between his sisters and their husbands, had reminded him just how lonely he is now. Just how lonely he hadn’t been.

But this kitchen… He grew up here, practically; he knows every notch and stain on the counter intimately, and he should be able to find some peace here.

Would be able to, if only his ears weren’t burning with the way his uncles and cousins are talking about him in the front room, not bothering to check their volume as though they’ve forgotten that he speaks Spanish too.

“¡Qué cara tan patética tuvo Carlitos!” That’s his cousin Daniel, halfway to passing out in the barn already, judging by the slur to his voice.

“Por favor, está siempre así, con un palo en el culo.” Tío José, probably sucking on a cigarette despite Tía Lucy’s insistence on not smoking indoors.

“Ya saben lo que necesita él,” Daniel says. He pauses for effect, or to drain yet another beer; Carlos neither knows or cares. “Una buena chica pa’ mamarle la pija.”

Daniel roars with laughter and Carlos clenches his jaw, scrubbing harder at the pan in his hands. The rest of the group are noticeably silent, and he can almost feel the way they’re looking at the door to make sure he isn’t going to walk in at any moment. It’s almost tempting.

The laughter dies down abruptly.

“Oye, ¿Para qué fue eso, cabrón?” Daniel says, sounding somewhat more sober now.

“Carlos es gay, pendejo,” Carolina, Daniel’s sister, puts in. “Y ya tiene novio. ¿Recuerdas el gringo?”

“¡No manches! ¿¿¿En serio???” A pause, then, “Bueno, no es de extrañar que le guste tanto ese palo.”

More laughter, this time all of them joining in, and Carlos feels the rage threatening to boil over. He yanks the pan out of the water and slams it on the draining board, then sweeps all the cutlery into the sink in one. The eyes of the room are well and truly on him now and his cheeks burn with shame as he scrubs and scrubs and–

“¡Mierda!”

The dishwater turns dark as Carlos holds his hand over it, blood dripping from the gaping wound across his palm. It stings and he knows he should deal with it before the bleeding gets too bad, but he’s stuck there, pinned down under the weight of his family’s gazes, his heartbeat rushing in his ears as his blood drips, drips, drips.

Then hands are on his shoulders, turning him around, wrapping a towel around his palm, and he’s looking into his mother’s eyes, and he can’t do it anymore.

She sits him down away from everyone and quietly bandages his wound, not saying a word as he cries like he’s a child again, suffering from a scraped knee after playing with his cousins.

“Mamá, I…”

And there it is again, the truth, waiting for him to say he left me, I screwed it all up, I’m so sorry.

But he can’t.

He can’t.

“Thank you.”

She smiles at him, reaches out to stroke his hair. “Always.”

[thecoffeelorian]

Unsung Heroes; Unspoken Lines: Issue #1

Good morning, all, and welcome to what I hope can become a new discussion group for all of the unsung heroes of "The Bad Batch", as well as the many plot directions that never quite made it to the small screen.

Some of you may have already seen me in the tags already, while others may have not. You might have also tuned in for one of my "Fandom Friday" posts, or perhaps haven't seen any yet. Nevertheless, I will type my thoughts to the best of my ability here, as well as triple-check every post before submission so that I don't come across as complaining solely for the sake of complaining.

Before we get started, though, let me just offer up a huge thank-you to everybody who took the time to respond to my request post, as I really didn't think this would go past 3 likes...yet here we are now with around 20 brave souls besides myself, so. You all have my gratitude for this, and again, I will do my best not to squander it.

Second, just a few rules to put out here: as this is meant to be an actual discussion, and not just some Instagrammy thing where you like this post and disappear...I really prefer the responses made with typing words, and not the ones made with pictures, so please answer accordingly.

Thirdly, if there's anyone out there who never wants to question so much as a single line that megacorporation-produced entertainment delivers to them, and also lowkey mocks anyone that does on their own blogs...please filter out the tag "tbb: deep dives" so that our extensive observations don't ruin your fun.

And so, now that I've set up the format and guidelines...without further adieu, let us go to our first subject of this series: The Lawquanes!

In the beginning, I believed that characters such as Cut and Suu would be the basis for an extended support network for the Batch, even if just through a secure comm or two. They could have served quite well in this regard, too, be it as two of several insiders warning them to steer clear of certain planets; helping answer as many parenting questions as they could; and more or less showing that nobody now having to look after a young person would be required to go it alone.

Furthermore, as there are such things as family friends and child-raising discussion groups in real life, and on a more general note, ZOOM calls…naturally, I didn’t expect anything different for the likes of Hunter, Echo, and the rest.

Except it…kind of was. Other than Shep Hazard’s few appearances in Season 2, once Cut and Suu took their kids and hit the skids…that was pretty much it for any and all outside help, for the family was never brought up again.

This, in turn, meant no secret chats between Shaeeah and Omega; no surprise stealth visits from Cut just to see how everybody was adjusting; no deliveries of hand-me-down clothing or toys for the squad to save their credits; and, frankly, in the absence of a support network, it started to feel like these company execs were suggesting that it’s much better for newly formed families to go it alone rather than even think about asking for help.

Add to this the idea of introducing characters from previous series solely to take them away not long after, and it amounts to a bad habit of isolating the title characters, if not also alienating those who might have otherwise created long-term relationships with them.

Granted, in the early stages of this series, there was the creeping evil of the Empire to worry about and early on, it wasn’t hesitating to crack down. That idea was 100% concrete, so far be it from me to question such things.

What wasn’t so concrete, however, was the need to keep on avoiding each other when one, most of the title cast were able to interact with Rex during all 3 seasons and had slim to no consequences; two, they could pretty much go anywhere as long as the galaxy thought them dead; and three, there was no further chatter about going after deserters. This created quite the opening for new faces to show up and stay there…yet again, not a word from the Lawquanes, who simply vanished into the ether and never returned.

So, if I may have the opportunity to ask, and if you all have the time to answer...it just might be time for our first Question Of The Week.

QOTW::

If more attention had been given to all four Lawquanes, what role(s) might they have had going forward, and would it have involved the Batch or not?

Please respond in the comments or reblogs to get the conversation going, and I hope to answer back as soon as possible. Thank you, have a good morning, and good luck.

No Pressure Tags: @theosb0rnway @megmca @brownielocks69 @alwaysflexfoampads @lucky-ducky006

@travellingnorthwards @moe-oh @depeachy @petrivbatig @sadiecoocoo

@maddyknight28 @traveller-of-word-and-screen @greyangelpain @tbnrpotato @lilithastar

@sillishit @techs-goggles9902 @amandamadeathing @number1morphfan @darthbecky726

[gre-chankas-stuff]

Oc? 👀

YOU FOOL, YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD !!! NOW ALL OF THE TUMBLR WILL KNOW I HAVE NO ARTISTIC TALENT!!!!!!!

On the serious note, thank you. Now, i can

1. Lok, a guy with amnesia

Appearance

I do not have a full ref of him because i cant draw coherent pictures as a reference.

Heres his colored floating head and a bunch of sketches i did in class with a pen and was still motivated to draw

And a silly little stickman rendition in that style i use in comics sometimes

Personality

Surprisingly good leader

A little cocky at times, but does know how to gain leverage against strong opponents

Does, in fact, like fighting. Weapon of preference is a sword, although he's also proficient in any object that can be used as weapon

Relies a lot on his reflexes though, sometimes maybe too much, which is a byproduct of the fact that his body knows more than he ever will.

Moderately caring person, although cannot pass by someone in distress without feeling a little guilty

Would die to save friend. Had died to save a friend. The world died for him to save a friend.

His teeth are not for show. Do not threaten what is his.

Story

His story is just as incoherent as are my attempts to give him full ref, only thing time it's intentional.

The premise is such: he wakes up in a world he only particularly recognises (but it feels Extremely off) with little memory of who he is, what he's supposed to do or go. The story itself is a journey to uncover his previous life, find his forgotten friends while gaining new ones, and discover the secrets of the world he inhabits!

What actually happens to him (as the story goes) is that he has a panic attack shortly after waking up, - because he doesn't even remember his own name! - fights a Big and Deadly Bird™ with his bare hands, face-plants in a mud puddle, has another panic attack after seeing his face in a river, kills some monsters with his teeth, dies, tears more monsters with the tools he scrapped from nothing and dies again. Yes, in that exact order. And it's not even the end of his first week here.

He's... Going through it

As of his ✨ mysterious backstory ✨.... It's incomplete :p

And by incomplete i mean that i have some bare bones structure of it, but its still mostly just... In the air. Because i love him as a blank slate that Knows something he Possibly Shouldn't (like craftsmanship, weapon usage, farming, ect.) that are so integrated in his muscle memory that it's literally so freaky actually. Man freak

Meta stuff

His appearance and general plot of his journey is actually based on a minecraft youtuber and his modded-mc-with-plot series that i watched at the time of creation. However, unlike the guy that won't allow his character to have any magnitude of personality and reflection of the inflicted trauma all his shenanigans surely caused, i'm rerouting the story Completely south of what actually happened there.

Although it is still happening minecraft, yes. Live with that.

Also, i classify my ocs in my head as siblings, from oldest (created earlier) to youngest (created later), and Lok is the fifth and the youngest in the family.

2. Enais "Ena" Crovn, girl that can survive Armageddon

Appearance

Imagine a generic long haired girl oc of a 11 years old that thought foxes and wings were cool, and you have basically Ena imagined fully

As you can tell.... This one is from 2017? Ish??

These ones are obviously new-er, although they are still entirely incomplete

I do not have Any new references of her except these rough sketches, and she needs Tremendous redesign because Generic Girl White Dress no longer fits, although not much have really changed with her design through the years

Design pending.

Personality

Honestly one of the least traumatised people out there. She's just living her life man.

She's just Just Some Guy.

Positive person, sometimes soft-spoken. Thinking if Fluttershy had to deliver mail instead of caring for animals, although, obviously, not to that extreme

Good with kids

Can fight but really, REALLY would rather just deliver mail, thank you very much

Loves flying

Story

Entirely unknown. Little me had at least 2 different stories for this gal, one of which was that she's an undertale-esque monster that just happened to look deceptively human and works as a mailman for the entire underground, the other being that she was a Freak Experiment of her insane scientist mother that sew wings and fox ears on her and gave her trauma

Surprisingly, the mailman (mailwoman?) one was the first one i actually came up with myself (while the Trauma route was influenced by a lot of gore mlp edits yt recommended me a lot around that time) and even there she was still cool and, by design, in genocide run would still fight the player somewhere in snowdin. So i think i will go with that one

Meta stuff

She IS actually second least traumatised oc i have. As per my ocs family tree, she's also the oldest - in fact, the very first to ever be made, so her knowledge of children comes from wrangling some ptsd and hyperactivity havers in the lot

There's actually third, secret backstory she has, which includes utdr multiverses we all know about. Although she still delivers mail there, she's actually the very same person who sends the asks to askboxes for character to receive through the entire multiverse, and she Is quite strong - because some universes are WILD and very much deadly and it was a necessity to learn to protect herself; which means she can survive anything under any circumstances.

Little me was based af for coming up with this

It is only two for now because i had not expected for it to take So Much Fucking Time to type out this little bits. Ugh

I need to make a list

[resident-gay-bitch]

little rich boy sirius who gets disowned and can barely survive without his expensive brands and the basic human need to eat at least once a day meeting the entirely too generous james potter who just falls for the vanity and sincerity of the reformed rich boy and decides that once sirius stops caring about brands and status and rich boy things and just cares about what matters in life he decides to spoil his boyfriend to pieces because he’s secretly sitting on a fucking fortune

[kideternity]

[Image ID: Four digital ink drawings of digimon Neodevimon, Helloogarmon, Starman and Oboromon. Neodevimon is a skinny humanoid with long hair and extremely long clawed arms covered in bandages up to the forearm, tattered devil wings with a spike at the top of both, wearing a horned mask with six eyes, zipped collar, shoulder pad on the left arm, leather straps around both shoulders, with a bare upper body that is imbedded with circular embellishments across the chest to the stomach and right shoulder, and baggy pants with coffin shaped kneepads and strappy heeled boots that have two spikes at the toe. Their pose is a mid action type pose where they are looking to the side. Helloogarmon is a large canine esque bipedal monster made of fire with an open skeletal maw fill of prominent teeth- they have skeletal spikes sticking out of their back, and skeletal claws as well. They have a long tail with a tail skeleton showing through it, and bandages around both upper arms and around their lower body ending at the toes. They are in a hunched position. Starmon is a star shaped being with a gem in the middle of their top spike, and in the middle of their star shaped body is a small dark oddly shaped face opening showing two eyes. They have long strap covered arms and legs- they are wearing big gloves and boots as well, with both having straps and metal stud embellishments, as well as a star patch on each. They are wearing a tattered scarf, and are in an energetic action pose, surrounded by small star scribbles. Oboromon is an undead being wearing a conical hat with long horns coming through- their hair is short and choppy, and their face is covered in bandages. They have exposed teeth and shadowed eyes, and are wearing a tattered scarf. Their sleeves are tattered as well and different lengths- on the right side, they have an ornamental shoulder pad and samurai esque armour piece, and their right arm is a giant horse like skull with a sword coming out of the mouth. Their left arm is humanoid and covered in bandages. Their entire ribcage and spine is exposed, which ends in a large rotund mass of smoke with a warped face on it. There is more tattered fabric coming from their right shoulder, and they are covered and surrounded by arrows and pieces of paper. /End Image ID]

Go go digital monsters

[the-acid-pear]

Y'know this little throwaway gag is so bizarre to me and I know this game is a bit very different to 2 and 3 but look at Matt's reaction when Jack raids the place in 3:

You'd argue he's simply stopping Jack bc he hates this guy and he also hates this job which Could Be True but i highly doubt bc overall despite his virginity and overall cursed vibe, Matt seems to be a good employee, by all means (I mean, Peter literally gave him a vacation instead of firing him in 2, so that says a lot).

Plus, Dave hates this guy as much as he hates him! He literally always calls him creepy and, AND!

This is the only footage you get of the prize corner in 2. Which is also the first game to show Matt and Dave's disdain for one another, Dave being likely more scared of Matt than Matt will ever be of him.

Which is all very curious. 2 does set a drastic change for Matt too with him going from being just strange to outright creepy, so was the old pizza place closing something that actually affected him or was he consistently that creepy all along? And if the later, did he just start hating Dave after that or did they always have beef and they simply had some sort of arrangement (or even higher word from Steven who tended to let Dave do whatever he wanted in general) that let him do so?

[keicordelle]

Momo confirmed: there can never be a Banri-centric three:vale

And actually, his logic behind this is really interesting. Because at it's heart, the difference is that with Banri, Momo could never have formed the same sort of codependent relationship that he does with Yuki. Banri is capable of taking charge and taking care of himself, and so Momo wouldn't feel the need to step forward and try to help him.

Hell, it's only after he realizes that no one's taking care of Yuki that he reaches out to him in the first place. Momo establishes very well in Re:member that he needs to feel needed and useful to feel loved, or to express his love, and Yuki lets him do that in spades. Banri, though. Banri doesn't need someone to dote on him (or at least so judges Momo) and therefore Momo's acts of service (his declarations of love) are unwarranted at best and unnoticed at worst.

Whether or not this is actually true is a whole separate question. Banri does seem to rely on Momo when he's helping them out backstage (Momo valiantly kills the dreaded spider for him) -- but he does it in a moderate sort of way, taking the time to make sure Momo's not overexerting himself (ie, when he's lugging around more equipment in one trip than he probably ought to be) and that he is generally taking care of himself as much as he's taking care of others.

But Momo seems to want someone who relies on him too heavily. He needs to devote himself fully and completely to another person (perhaps because he feels he can no longer fully devote himself to his own dreams, so he seeks some other outlet, someone else's dream to latch onto to replace that). He gets drawn in by Yuki's sopping wet meow meow nature and the fact that Yuki so clearly needs someone to take care of him, because Yuki is the only one who enables him to express his love in the way he wants to. Needs to, perhaps. Regardless of how (un)healthy that expression and the resulting relationship is.

That's why MomoBan won't work with just each other. That's why they need Yuki to draw them together: Momo needs someone who he can devote his everything to, and Banri can never be that person for him.

[andhumanslovedstories]

It’s a real pain in the ass to find a vital signs machine on our impromptu medical overflow unit, so I’m pleased to announce I’ve reached the new nursing milestone of needing a patient’s blood pressure and going “fuck it I’ll just take it manually, it’ll be so much faster” and it is.

[aeide-thea]

poäng appreciation post 💛