#im still pumped from last night sorry
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making bestfriend!ethan cum in his pants <3
it’s a random monday night and ethan came over to yours, to do his homework. you distract him, of course, and he ends up on the floor on his knees, painting your toenails for you. you’re sat at the edge of the bed, and ethan nervously take your left foot in his hand, his soft caresses making your spine tingle.
he’s almost halfway done with your first foot, when you decide to lay flat on the bed. he looks up at you as you do so, your crop top rising slightly, and he’s able to just see the bottom of your breasts. his face flushes a deep red, and he quickly looks away in embarrassment, and returns to painting your toes. he knows you can’t see him, though, and takes quick glances back up to your breasts every now and then.
you try to get comfortable at the awkward angle, and shift your upper body slight, causing your right foot to accidentally graze over ethan’s crotch. this causes his breath to audibly hitch.
“sorry!” you say, thinking you just hit his leg with your foot.
he takes a second to get himself together, and finally responds. “it’s okay..” he says lowly. another second passes by, and he mutters a “i didn’t mind” under his breath.
this causes you to lift yourself up on your elbows. “huh? what did you say?” you ask, genuinely not able to hear what the boy just said.
“oh- uh- uh… nothing. it’s not important.” he says quickly, and you notice how red his face is. you question it, but decide not to say anything out loud this time. you plop back down on the bed, and ethan watches as your upper half bounces, which makes your boobs bounce as well.
“christ,” he curses under his breath. you sit up quickly, and catch ethan staring at your tits. he returns back to painting your toes, not realizing that you had just caught him. you notice there’s a growing bulge in his gray sweatpants, and you can’t help but smirk. you lay back down on the bed while ethan continues.
you pick up your right foot again, this time, placing it directly on ethan’s bulge. his mouth opens, but doesn’t say anything, afraid you’ll realize what your doing and stop.
after a bit, and he still doesn’t say anything, you begin moving your foot back and forth on his now fully hard dick.
ethan seems to forget how to think. he doesn’t move, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. the feeling of your foot is driving him wild from the bottom up, the feeling sending shudders down his spine. he doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle after a while. his face is flush and he’s starting to breathe heavily, trying in vain to think of the right words. his heart is pumping wildly in his chest, his body still going tingly and sending chills down his spine as little whines and moans come out of his mouth.
you lift your crop top up just a little, exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. this makes him fold even more. the poor boy is already so close, just the feeling of your foot and the sight of your bare chest is enough for him.
he feels paralyzed at this point, realizing he’s teetering on the edge of an orgasm. he begins to rock back and forth, in tandem with your foot. he can no longer hide his moans from you, starting to get loud, even though he’s so embarrassed.
“fuck, y/n… please…” he begs. you smirk, but don’t say anything, just adding more pressure with your foot.
“i’m.. im gonna… i’m gonna cum..” he says the last word harshly, still feeling so ashamed at the sinful act. “please.. i cant cum like this, y/n… please, baby..” the pet name makes your stomach drop, and arousal forms in your panties.
“it’s okay, e..” you sit up on your elbows. “i want you to cum in your pants, sweet boy… make a mess for mommy.”
he groans at that, and quickly reaches his high, rocking back and forth against your foot, his head shooting up to look at the ceiling, letting out soft “ah, ah, ahs” as he paints the inside of his boxers with thick cum. you instantly feel the wetness seep through, it showing up nicely on the gray he’s wearing. you smile sweetly at him.
once he returns back to earth, he looks back down at his pants, feeling so hot and humiliated, but he loved every second of it. he looks back up to your pretty face.
“t-thank you, mommy…”
#ethan landry smut#ethan landry#scream#scream smut#scream iv#scream 6#scream 6 smut#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagine
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could you write something where Jamie’s teammates chirp him for you having hickeys🫣🫣
vampire ✧.* jd9
pairings: jamie drysdale x fem!reader
summary: jamie's teammates bug him after an eventful evening with you.
warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT !!! oral (m. receiving)
a/n: this sucks IM SORRY. not proofread yet !!!
"sheesh drysdale, have some fun last night?" cam inquires mockingly as jamie takes off his compression shirt.
some of the guys thought cam's comment was funny enough to chime in themselves.
"you dating a vampire dude?"
"does that not...i don't know...hurt?"
"someone got a little victory present, huh drysdale?"
"dude, you're never living this down."
jamie looks down at his chest and abdomen and turns red. the memories of last night come flooding back to him.
• • •
you push jamie onto the hotel bed and crawl towards where he's sat. he opens his legs wide enough for you to climb between them. one of your hands rests on his chest, while the other cups his square jaw. you pepper kisses all across his face and onto his lips. shortly, you move down his neck to your favorite part of jamie's body: his chest. jamie's hand snakes around your waist and slides down to your ass, giving it a few soft squeezes.
as much as you wanted jamie to scoop you up and slip you underneath him, it was his night. the flyers had just won an incredibly close game, and jamie had the overtime goal. it was his night.
giving your boyfriend your undivided attention, you start to suck on the tender skin of his pecs. he hisses when you sneakily bite the skin, but replaces that sound with quiet moans when you lick the sensitive spot.
you make a path of love marks trailing from his left pec to his right, winding from one side of his abs, to the other, and all the way down to his bulge. needless to say, this took a lot longer than you'd anticipated, but after seeing the end result you were quite pleased with your work.
jamie lays back between the pillows like an angel. his soft skin glistened from the thin sheet of sweat he'd earned from trying to remain calm as you nicked and sucked at his sensitive skin. he's left in his red plaid boxers that you'd recently gifted him.
"god, y/n. looks so sexy, but hurts like a bitch." jamie reaches to his side, swiping a finger across the raw skin and quickly pulls away.
"not done yet jam. was so proud of you tonight, want to show you just how proud i am. so lucky to be your girl."
jamie's head lulls farther back into the pillows at the sound of your voice and your words. you help him pull the boxers down, and his throbbing cock springs upright.
you do not hesitate to take it into your hand, giving it a few pumps before bringing it to your lips. to slightly tease jamie, you press your lips to the tip and kitty-lick it. you wrap your lips around the tip and swirl your tongue around it. jamie brings a leg up into a hinge and thrusts his groin towards your mouth, encouraging you to take his full length.
obeying your boyfriend, you press a kiss on his right thigh and slide his dick all the way into your mouth. you don't stop until you can feel the base of his cock on your lips. jamie whines as you take him. you begin to guide your mouth up and down his member, going at a steady pace.
you look through your eyelashes up towards jamie and he is in a state of pure ecstasy. his eyes are squeezed shut as one hand rests on the back of your head, the other over his mouth. he muffles his moans as best as possible to not concern the hotel neighbors.
"fuck angel, feels so good. so close y/n."
you quicken your pace and feel jamie's body begin to go limp. his knee falls and his hands both rise to grasp your hair. he's guiding your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. you take his warm cum letting it coat your throat.
jamie's catching his breath as you swallow his cum and get up from the bottom of the bed. you crawl up to jamie's chest and rest your head on it. he's still breathing quite heavily, and the layer of sweat only thickened while you pleasured him.
you run a hand through his sleek hair and plant a kiss to his cheek.
"I love you so much jamie", you blurt out.
"I love you so much more angel. thank you for tonight", jamie says as he runs his hand across your back, it is soothing.
"you made me so proud tonight babe, I love being yours." you look up at jamie and he gives you a wide, toothy smile--your favorite.
jamie places a kiss on the top of your head and looks down at his chest once more, "the guys are gonna chirp the fuck outta me tomorrow."
you laugh at his distress and innocently ask, "so...should i not do this again?"
he's quick to answer you, "absolutely not, it's worth it. but shit, cam is gonna never leave me alone."
"well at least you have a girlfriend." you roll your eyes at jamie; sometimes you're not sure if you're dating jamie or if cam is.
#lov1ngdrysdale#hockey fanfiction#jamie drysdale#nhl players#jamie drysdale x reader#flyers hockey#jamie drysdale x you#jamie drysdale blurb#jamie drysdale smut#philadelphia flyers#jack hughes#luke hughes#nico hischier
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✧˖°. EVERYTHINGS ALRIGHT WHEN SHE CALLS ME BACK
content: the last one...this was fun yall...see you on the other side 🫡🫡🫡 be brave, soldiers, be brave
percy had been speeding for the past thirty minutes, as the car had devolved into chaos. frank and jason were holding their phones in crazy positions, desperate to get a connection. leo was attempting to charge his phone with the crappy cord percy had in his car, bent in strange ways but he never got a steady charge.
"buy a new charger, you fucker," leo muttered with a glare in percy's direction.
"charge your phone at night, you little shit," percy grit out in response, his eyes scanning a passing sign.
"WAIT- what did that sign say???"
"next towns in three miles," jason called back, leaning towards percy as he appeared to be chasing a connection. percy shoved him away and pressed harder on the gas petal as leo stared at the clock that was glaring red at him, proudly presenting the time.
11:45
fuck
they came flying into the small town, percy slamming on the brakes basically as frank pointed out a parking spot. the three of them leapt out, frank climbing onto of percy's car and holding his phone higher.
"anything??" leo called and frank just shook his head before getting on his tip toes. leo bit out a few spanish curses, spinning around and looking around desperately.
"diner!" percy called, pointing at it, and instantly the four boys were springing into it, breathing heavily before the poor waitress, who gave them a strange look.
"hey- do you, do you have a phone i could borrow?? i need to tell a girl i love her," leo confessed, out of breath, and the woman frowned at him.
"oh, im sorry, baby, but our phone broke earlier this morning," the woman replied and leo hung his head, every second that passed another moment that yn gave up on him calling at all.
"oh! but, there's a payphone over at the gas station," the woman remembered, snapping her fingers before pointing across the street a few blocks down. leo looked up and pumped his fist before rooting through his pockets, looking for a few quarters or really anything. he turned his pockets inside out to produce lent only.
"any of you got change?" he hissed out, impatiently and bouncing on his feet as the boys also dug through their pockets.
"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," muttered leo, glancing up at the clock that was hung in the restaurant before groaning and urging his friends on more.
11:52
FUCK
"here, this one's on me, boys. go get that girl, yeah?" the kind waitress offered, holding out three quarters for leo.
"thank you, thank you, thank you!" leo cheered, grabbing them from her hand and shoving them into his pocket as he scrambled out of the diner. he ran the few blocks that separated him from the payphone, from yn. he was trying to calm his breathing as he slid the coins into the machine, the phone held between his shoulder and ear.
he waited for the robotic voice to tell him to put in the number he wanted to call, his fingers working on autopilot. it wasn't hard, he only had three numbers memorized. his moms, 911, and yours. and 911 was on a good day, okay. he didn't have a watch or anything to check what time it was, but he has vivid memories of barely passing the mile in high school so there was no way running those blocks was fast.
the phone rang once...then twice...then three times
by the fourth ring leo was leaning his head against the machine, prepared to bash his brain in right then and there.
but then the phone crackled and he heard angel's sing
"hello?"
well, not quite sing, but he was certain it was an angel.
"gods, yn, im so glad you picked up," leo breathed into the phone, a smile slowly growing on his lips at your voice.
"leo?? what- what phone are you calling me off of right now?" you asked, confusion clear in your voice.
"umm a payphone in some town that i don't even know the name of," leo answered and you snorted on the other side of the phone, leo's smile growing still.
"okayyyyyyyy," you replied once your giggles died out, "can i ask why?"
"because i love you," leo answered instantly, get a small amount of pleasure out of the gasp from you.
"gods, i love you so so much, yn. i've been in love with you for so long, i think i forget. which is why i chased all those girls and kept going back to she-who-must-not-be-named. and i know that's no an excuse, i know. and i would understand if you want to beat the shit out of me, or never speak to me. but i can die happy knowing that you know how i feel about you. ill die with a fucking smile on my face if i means that i gave it a shot and told the girl of my dreams im completely in love with her," leo rambled, squeezing his eyes shut as he took a wet breath, swallowing down whatever was choking at his throat. probably the love he held for yn but whatever.
"leo," you breathed out on your end, sounding like you were on the verge of crying, and leo realized he never wanted to be the cause of your tears again. the squeezing of his chest hurt too much.
"please, yn, please. im sorry, im so sorry. i'll spend the rest of my life making up for it...if- if you'll let me," leo begged into the phone. and he knew his voice was pitchy and whiney in a way that would have him mocked and ridiculed for a very long time if the boys every heard him, but leo couldn't find it in himself to give a shit. all that mattered now was you and youre voice on the other side of the phone.
"do you- do you have any idea how long i've waited for you to say that, leo valdez?" you hizzed on your end, sniffling as leo breathed out a soft laugh.
"i know, im sorry, baby. lemme make it up to you," offered leo and you were already swooning on your side of the phone, shaking your head and leaning back into your pillows trying to hide your blush from yourself.
"you've got a lot of making up to do," you mused and leo hummed.
"would a date chip away at my debt to you? a real proper date?" he offered, his fingers crossed as he waited with baited breath for your answers. you took signifcantly longer than you needed to, toying with him even though you both knew what your answer would be.
"it's definitely a start, valdez."
"that's all i need. just one chance," replied leo, smiling brighter than the sun, surely. it was starting to hurt his cheeks but he couldn't find it in him to stop.
"oh, and i love you, too," you whispered and leo chuckled, resting his head against the plexiglass that surrounded the payphone.
"thank the gods! you have no idea the trouble i went through to make this call happen," leo laughed into the phone, smiling as you joined him.
"well, i can't wait to hear all about it on our dateeee," you squealed, unable to hide your excitement at the thought that you finally had a date with the boy you've always been in love with.
"hell, yeah. our date, let's go!!" leo cheered, shaking his head as you laughed more into the phone.
"you're probably running out of time on the payphone, huh?" you questioned and leo frowned at the thought, not wanting to be done talking with you...ever.
"probably. stupid machine," leo huffed, with the intention of drawing more laughs from you, which of course happened.
"call me later?" you offered, biting your lip as you waited for his response.
"if i could stay on the phone with you forever, i would. you already know im calling you back at the first opportunity."
"good." you nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see you.
"just make sure to pick up, okay?" leo stated and you rolled your eyes.
"on the first ring, of course."
"that's my girl," leo breathed out, enjoying just being with you, even if it was only over the phone.
"finally, your girl," you teased and leo rolled his eyes, mocking you from his side of the phone.
"whatever. it'll be worth the wait," insisted leo and you couldn't find it in yourself to argue. leo went to add something but then a click was heard and the robotic voice replaced your angelic one.
your call has been disconnected due to insufficient funds. please hang up the phone and try again if you'd like to call them back. if not, we hope your phone call was satisfactory and that you have a great day.
✶⋆.˚ taglist: @ivyy-covered-walls @puffoz @brodieland @sunshine-of-ur-life @literallyimthenerdemoji @aezuria @pro-oddity @imasimpdealwithit @shimas-things12 @butterandhoneytoast @rlqfpdl @daniskywalkersolo @pumpkinbxtch @mayo-0-o @hannenomical @eliseisclinicallyinsane @ellipsisspelled @percys-princess @aryxchse @vodkori @seaweedpuff301 @defnotfertilizedtoesw @annybah @riordanness @balletfilmss @meerpea @ssparksflyy @simha-nakshatra
#𐙚⋆｡°✩ everythings alright when she calls me back#all my love ౨ৎ#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez#pjo smau#smau#hoo
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PLS PLS PART TWO OF PERVY HAIKYUU BOYS W KENMA, AONE AND KYOTANI
ft. kenma, aone, && osamu !! part 1 part 3
cw. THIS IS FILTHY, nonconsensual, oblivious reader, stealing readers toothbrush, stealing readers panties, pillow humping, eye fucking the reader, sniffing panties, taking readers vibrator, panties being licked, peeping on reader while she pleasures herself, recording reading taking a shower !!
authors note. I don’t really know how to write for kyotani so i replaced him with osamu!! hope that’s okay :p
KENMA: Kenma is slick af. You will not be catching him stealing your things or looking at you a certain way because this guy is that slick. He definitely jerks off to your photos. If you post on insta or snap he immediately pulls his cock out and will start the jerking. He steals a lot of your things, a lot. His favorite thing to steal from you is your panties. God he loves it. He likes to steal your red panties because it’s his favorite color lol. When he’s in the mood, he pulls out this box that contains stuff of yours and pulls out your recent panties that he stole when he went to your house. He jerks off to them by wrapping his cock around them and starts to think about you. Other times he’d just spit on his hand and he’d get off by just sniffing and licking it because he wants to smell your scent. He definitely records you touching yourself or when you’re in the shower. One time you were in the shower washing your hair and you had your eyes closed so you didn’t hear anyone come in and the whole time kenma had slightly opened the curtain to record you naked in the shower. He also stops by when he knows you’re the only one in the house. And he knows the time you start touching yourself so everytime you start touching yourself and let moans fall from your mouth, he whips out his phone and starts recording you so he can watch and use it for later.
AONE: This guy feels so fucking guilty about it but he just can’t stop. No matter how many times he tells himself, that this is the last time doing this because he knows it’s not. He has a lot of dirty thoughts about you. Mostly them are filled of you being under him, whining for more as he fucks into your pussy and fills you up over and over again with his cum. When you wear something that makes your body figure stand out, he cannot stop thinking about it for days. He thinks about it while jerking off and it gets him off so fast. Definitely takes your panties and vibrater. He likes your vibrator more because he can still smell and taste you. He likes to steal your vibrator after you’ve just used them because he wants to still smell and taste the remains of your cum on it. Later on he would bring the vibrator to his tongue and jerk off imagining that it’s you that he’s tasting. That’s it’s your cunt that he’s tasting. He likes to hump into his pillow and pretend it’s your cunt that he’s inside of. Your cunt that he imagines is so warm and tight. He steals your toothbrush im so sorry. it’s so weird but he likes to use it to brush his own teeth because he thinks it’s basically kissing you in a way. He doesn’t want you to ever find out because he knows that you wouldn’t be friends with him anymore and would call him weird </3.
OSAMU: Sneaky little bitch too. Has alot of dirty thoughts about you. He definitely likes to eye fuck you alot. He also stares at your breasts alot and your lips. He does that because he likes to imagine pushing his cock between your lips and likes to imagine sucking on your tits. He definitely steals a bunch of your panties. When he’s over at your house he would ask for a glass of water and you would go down stares to get it and he would go in your underwear drawer and would take three pair of panties and when you come back upstairs he would be sitting on your bed smiling at you innocently. Later on that night he would be in the bathroom pumping his cock with your panties and groaning imagining that it was you who was doing this. Touching him. He most definitely jerks off to your photos lmao. Whenever you post something he’s always the first like and one time when you posted yourself and your friends going to the beach, he saw you in your bikini, he was going fucking nuts. He orgasmed so hard that night lmfao. He does try to stop because he does get guilty about it but without you, he can’t cum as hard.
#[ ☆ ] — anons !!#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu hcs#kenma smut#kenma drabble#kenma x reader#kenma kuzome smut#kenma kuzome x reader#osamu smut#osamu x reader#osamu hcs#osamu miya x reader#osamu miya smut#aone smut#aone x reader#aone hcs#hq aone
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never be like you
•paige bueckers x fem!reader
•angst, explicit language, fluff
•nsfw
summary | oc is paige’s highschool best friend, except they’ve always had feelings for each other. when they got to uconn, things got complicated..
author’s note: this is loosely based off of never be like you by flume!! best friends to lovers is my favorite trope ever so enjoyy. also im too lazy to put my auto caps on, so im sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes
-
halloween 2019
hopkins, minnesota
11:30 pm
*oc and paige are both 18*
-
this was my last halloween party of my highschool years. as paige and i were dancing together in a random senior’s backyard, my mind began to wander. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was because she was staring into my soul with the most lust filled gaze ever. i broke out of my trance to find her smirking, tilting her head towards her car. “wanna get out?” she mouthed, knowing i wouldn’t be able to hear her over the music. i nodded in response and she gingerly took my hand and jogged out of the backyard. i struggled to keep up, still feeling the slight effects of the pen i took a few hits of almost an hour ago. she wasted no time driving back to her house, knowing her parents and brother were gone for the weekend. her free hand was gripping my thigh, dangerously high as i bit my lip in an attempt to simmer my excitement down. i dont know why i never told her how i really felt - i know she felt the same. but there was something telling me that she was just toying with me.
-
she finally pulled into her driveway and ran around the car to open the door for me. i stumbled out, gripping the blonde for balance. “get on” she said, holding out her arms, gesturing for me to jump into them. i obliged and she lifted me up, her hands going to my ass as i wrapped my arms around her neck. she walked to her door and opened it, slamming it closed with her foot once we were inside. she set me down to put her keys on the table before surging towards me, bringing me in for a passionate kiss. she lead me to her room, lips never leaving mine. after her door shut, the whole night became a blur. the only thing i remember was waking up with a pleasant pain between my legs, wrapped in paige’s arms.
-
august 2020
storrs, connecticut
7:30 pm
-
it was move in day for me and paige. we’d graduated from hopkins together and somehow ended up committing to uconn together. we both decided it would only make sense for us to dorm together. boy was i wrong.
-
jerking back tears while watching my parents leave along with paige’s wasn’t easy. paige noticed me standing there alone, staring at the road long after they’d left. she came up behind me, her hand going to the small of my back as hot tears were now flowing freely down my face. “no, no, no, it’s okay don’t cry, you’ll see them soon”, she said, allowing me to fold into her open arms. she held me as i soaked her shirt with tears, completely disregarding the box filled dorm that was waiting for us. i stayed wrapped in her embrace as the parking lot emptied and my tears subsided. the sun began to set as i lifted my head from her chest, looking up at her with glossy eyes. she looked down at me with a pout, trying to cheer me up. i giggled at the sight, watching her mouth turn up into a smile as she did a little fist pump. "see, all better” she joked, cupping my face and wiping my tears with her thumbs. “i bet you feel real accomplished” i said through a snotty laugh. “you know i do” she replied, her breath catching when she looked at the beautiful sunset. the sky was painted deep orange and yellow, pale pink reflecting onto the clouds making them look like cotton candy. i watched her take in the sunset, admiring the way it shone on her perfect face. i peeled my eyes away to look at the sunset myself. it was ethereal. i got lost in the sky, unaware that paige was gazing at me with a soft smile. i turned my head to find her staring, and before i could tease her about it, she connected our lips in a slow, sweet kiss. her hands gently held my waist as my arms traveled to wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. my lips moved expertly against hers as her hands moved up my back. i pulled away, smiling up at her. “you’re so beautiful”, she began, watching my face redden, “i love you”. my eyes widened a bit at the last statement. “i love you too p”, i replied, reaching up to kiss her again.
i had to keep reminding myself that we were just best friends, even though i was beginning to hate the label. best friends don’t kiss like that. best friends don’t have sex every so often. and best friends sure don’t talk to each other like that.
-
present day
9:45 pm
storrs, connecticut
-
paige was hanging out with her teammates while i was in class. i loved her team - they treated me like a sister, especially the freshmen, who always looked up to me. i had just gotten home from my last class, exhausted and burnt out from the amount of work i had to do. when i got back inside, i overheard paige, aubrey, kk and ice talking about something, someone. “so, paige, how’s your lil girlfriend?” kk joked. it clicked in my head that i was the topic of conversation. i stopped in my tracks as paige began to respond. “what girlfriend?”, she replied. “come on p, stop playing dumb, we all know you guys aint best friends” ice retorted. i peeked through the door that was cracked open and watched aubrey playfully punch her in the shoulder, laughing. see, throughout our freshman year, i had to deal with the amount of girls paige brought home. i hated that era of her. i knew she was just being a dumb college girl, i knew she didn’t care about those girls, but it hurt me to think about the fact that i was one of the many girls on her roster. when she finally changed her ways to focus on basketball after her acl injury, i felt a wave of relief wash over me. sure, it meant that i was also cleared off her roster, but we still resumed our normal not-best-friend-like activities. i held my breath as she began to answer. “i’m being serious, she’s my best friend and nothing more. i don’t even like her like that for real. i mean, she’s not even my type”, she replied. i practically winced at every word that left her mouth. she couldn’t be serious, right? i didn’t know what else to do in that moment. i turned around, grabbed my keys and stormed out. im guessing she heard me, because as i was running down the hallway she flew outside and sprinted to catch up to me. “shit, yn, you heard that?” she said when she got to me, exasperated. i turned around to face her guilty eyes. “yeah paige, i did. do me a favor and fuck off for me will you?” i replied, my words shaky as tears pricked my eyes. i ran downstairs and made my way outside before she could even reply. i started my car and began to drive mindlessly, just wanting to get away. i pulled into an empty dunkin’ lot, let my tears flow freely, and cried for what felt like hours.
-
paige’s pov
10:00 pm
storrs, connecticut
-
none of my words were true. i liked her so much, i just didn’t want to tell them right there. azzi was the only one who knew.
watching tears build at her waterline crushed me. i’ve never made her cry before. her words hit me hard. i wanted to follow her, i wanted to be the one to comfort her just like i did on move in day. i knew she wouldn’t let me in - she never did. she always had her walls up and rarely cried in front of me.
i checked her location, wanting to know if she was safe at least.
dunkin: hartford, ct
i had no idea why she was all the way in hartford. i knew she had a habit of absentmindedly driving when she was upset, but she’s never gone this far. fuck. i seriously hurt her. as much as i wanted to drive to her, i knew it was a bad idea. it took everything in me to trudge back to my dorm, our dorm. i opened the door slowly, my head hung low. aubrey, kk and ice were waiting behind the door, confusion painted on all of their faces. “p, what the fuck was that?” aubrey said. “man, i fucked up big time. i lied to y’all, i really do like her. i just didn’t wanna tell you guys”. “do you think we’re stupid? we knew girl. you suck at lying” kk retorted, snorting. “oh”, i replied, biting my lip. “go get your girl bueckers” ice said, ushering me out of my own dorm. i grabbed my keys and hopped into my car, wasting no time driving to her. luckily she was still at that random dunkin’, although i knew she didn’t exactly want to see me. i pulled up next to her car and peered through her window. the only thing i could make out through the heavy rain coating her window was the sight of her holding her head in her hands, her chest heaving up and down. it broke me to see her like that. i just sat there and watched her for a while, my face turning white when she eventually noticed me. her expression immediately shifted from miserable to livid as she switched from park to reverse, quickly pulling out of the lot. i didn’t even try to follow her. i sunk into my seat and ran my hands down my face, pinching my eyelids and hitting the steering wheel. i fucked up, bad.
-
oc’s pov
11:00 pm
storrs, connecticut
-
i booked a room at the graduate hotel, solely to get away from the blonde. i only planned on staying there for the weekend because of the ridiculously high prices. i checked in and didn’t even bother putting my stuff away. i just flopped on the bed, burying my face in a pillow. stop thinking about her. you’re not her type. my mind was in a million different places at once, but it seemed to go silent when i checked my phone. they were all notifications from paige, about 16 missed calls and 20 unread messages. they ranged from “im so sorry” to “i miss you” to “are you okay?” to “where are you??”. tired and angry, i took her off my allowed people on do not disturb. i couldn’t bear to think about her at all. i quickly got changed into my pajamas and settled into bed, feeling cold and empty without paige’s presence beside me. it was weird falling asleep without her around me. i don’t think i’ve slept without her since freshman year started. i guess it’s never too late to try new things.
-
4:30 pm
storrs, connecticut
i spent practically the whole weekend rotting in the graduate hotel. i was honestly getting tired of ignoring paige. i missed her so much, but she didn’t have to know that. checking out of the hotel felt so good, and i was finally ready to speak to her after regaining my composure. i made my way back to our dorm, preparing to let her in and explain herself. i walked in only to be met with paige and another girl. she looked exactly like me, a doppelgänger if you will. her hair, her height, her eyes, everything. it looked like a friendly interaction, as though paige was planning to get up and leave, but i didn’t even let her reach the door. spinning on my heels, i stormed out for the second time this week, slamming the door in her face. i had enough. i’d seen enough. the sound of the door opening behind me angered my soul. “don’t fucking follow me paige”, i yelled, not even looking back. i didn’t want to see her face at all. i heard the door close quietly, footsteps trailing behind me. i was ready to scream at her. instead of being met with the tall blonde, i turned to see my doppelgänger. “hey, i don’t have any idea who you are, i was just leaving anyways but i’m not really interested in paige for real. she looked like she needed a shoulder to cry on..but that’s none of my business. i’m on your side babe, if anything” the girl, who’s name i learned was jade, spoke. her tone was gentle. she sounded genuinely concerned. “thank you, at least someone here understands me” i replied, laughing slightly. we exchanged numbers and i thanked her again for being so kind. she smiled and i left, needing somewhere to stay. although i was close to the entire team, azzi was the one i was closest to. well, aside from paige. azzi, paige and i have been sort of like a trio since highschool. whenever azzi came to visit, we had the time of our lives. we were so excited when she announced her signing with uconn. i texted her the whole situation and she immediately replied, welcoming me over. i sped over to her place, which wasn’t far from paige and i’s. she was waiting for me at the door, worry painted on her face. i began sobbing as soon as i saw her, just needing to be comforted. when we got inside she brought me over to the couch and pulled me into her lap, holding me as i hiccuped and shook uncontrollably. i cried until i couldn’t anymore again this week. this wasn’t like me. i never really cried like this. how could paige be causing all of this?
my tears turned into sniffles and azzi’s shirt was soaked. after i finished crying, i sat in her arms, my head buried in the crook of her neck, a comfortable silence filling the room as i regained composure. “honey, what happened?” she finally spoke, her voice soft. i lifted my head and began, “i overheard paige talking to aubrey, ice, and kk on friday.. they were teasing her about me and she said that she never liked me at all and that i wasn’t her type and…oh God”. my head fell into my hands as more tears began flowing down my face. azzi instantly pulled me back against her, rubbing my back to soothe me. “shh, it’s okay, i’m right here. you’re okay”. “i caught her with another girl azzi”, i confessed, sobbing harder. “oh hon..” she replied, visibly upset with paige. “i swear, im gonna kill her” she muttered to herself. i mustered out a slight, snotty laugh at her anger. “i wanted to give her the light of day after she tried to explain what she said about me, but that was the last straw. i don’t know what to do now”, i spoke, my voice cracking, tears still spilling down my face. “you don’t have to do anything right now, just stay here and take a break. you need it. i’ll be right here” she answered. “thanks az, i love you” i told her, meaning every word. i don’t know what i’d do without her. “i love you too”. i continued crying in her arms as the sun set.
-
paige’s pov
azzi’s apartment ..
-
i couldn’t help but follow her to azzi’s apartment. hearing everything she said and how she said it broke me. her voice, her tears, everything about it made me sick to my stomach. it made it worse that i was the one who did this, again. how could i be so stupid? how could i try to fill the void she left? nobody could ever be like her. i wasn’t going to let anything happen between jade and i. i couldn’t bring myself to. i had to tell her that. but seeing the look on her face when she saw me that night, the way azzi was cradling her as tears streamed down her face was too much for me. i couldn’t stand to see her like that. i quietly slipped away from azzi’s apartment, not being able to see her crying anymore. when i got back to our place, i tried texting her again. it was pointless - she hadn’t even replied to the texts i sent her on friday night. i sat on the couch and pondered for a while. deciding to test my luck, i headed back to azzi’s apartment.
-
oc’s pov
-
my tears finally faded as i began drifting off to sleep. azzi noticed my eyes drooping which inclined her to lift me off the couch and carry me to her room. she laid me down and tucked me into her bed. “get some rest, okay?” she whispered, lips pressed to the crown of my head. i nodded and smiled sleepily up at her. “thank you az” i murmered. “of course” she replied, turning on her fairy lights and flicking the light off. she closed the door, leaving it cracked open slightly. i heard some commotion coming from outside the door, but i eventually fell asleep, tear tracks drying on my face.
-
paige’s pov
-
speeding right back over to azzi’s apartment almost cost me my car privileges, but i didn’t care. i needed to see her. i flew down the hallway and practically banged on azzi’s door. after about a minute or so it opened, and i was met with azzi’s stern glare. she was visibly angry with me, for good reason. “paige. are you stupid or dumb?” she said. not really what i wanted to hear. “i know, i know, i messed up bad. but i need to explain to her. i need to talk to her”. “you do realize she’s completely broken and wants nothing to do with you? she’s also asleep right now”. great. i just want to see her face again. “can i just..” my voice trails off. “can you what paige?” i clear my throat. “can i just see her, please?”
azzi thought for a few moments.
“fine, go, she’s in my room”.
i thanked azzi profusely and quietly shuffled into her room. there she was, sleeping like an angel with the fairy lights perfectly illuminating her face. she looked beautiful during any time of day. i stood over her for a while and just watched her sleep like the weirdo i was. eventually, i got tired of standing and oh so gently sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her. a heavy sigh escaped my mouth as i watched her sleep peacefully. my arms and hands apparently had a mind of their own, because before i knew it i was stroking her face gently. i couldn’t bring myself to stop. her face is so perfect, everything about her is so perfect. i slightly brushed my thumb over her lips, trying not to wake her. i failed as soon as my hand reached the top of her head, petting it and stroking the hair down her face. she began to stir under me, blinking her eyes open. i knew she was a heavy sleeper and it took a few minutes for her to wake up, so i continued to graze her face. when she began to gain consciousness, i panicked and planted my feet in the ground to stand up. a soft voice stopped my escape.
“paige?”
i froze in place and waited for her to speak again.
“what are you doing here?” she asked in that adorable, sleepy voice she has when she first wakes up.
turning around, i slowly walked back towards the bed where she laid, curled up in azzi’s fuzzy blankets, head craned slightly to see me.
“oh uh, i was just-“
i stopped.
“hm?”
“i was checking..on you.”
“why?”
she was waking up fully now.
“because i hurt you. and i’m sorry.”
her expression changed from sleepy to upset, and i noticed the tear tracks that stained her face.
“you’re sorry?” she answered, tears welling up in her eyes. “now you’re sorry? do you realize what you put me through?” she said, hot angry tears flowing freely down her soft cheeks.
“i-“ i tried to retaliate, but stopped immediately when she broke down sobbing.
“baby i-“
“don’t call me that”, she spat, glaring at me through wet eyelashes.
ouch.
“how can you casually come back here and sorry your way out of this? don’t you know how long i suffered watching you hook up with all of these girls in front of me? don’t you realize how hurtful it was to be one of those girls on your ever growing roster? do you even know how long i waited for you paige? all throughout our little friends with benefits phase in high school, all while i became a hook up and not a best friend, all while i was there for you when you tore your acl, all of it. and then you go ahead and tell aubs, ice and kk that i’m not your type? that you never liked me like that? and then proceeded to hook up with a girl that looks exactly like me? don’t you know what that does to someo-“
“i love you”.
-
oc’s pov
-
“i love you”.
i stopped my rant instantly and shot my eyes up to meet hers. she immediately looked down and took her bottom lip in between her teeth.
“you what?”
“i love you. more than anything”.
i scoff and laugh a little, shocked.
“but i thought-“
she cuts me off by leaping onto the bed and bringing me in for a long kiss, pouring out every pent up emotion she had built up in her. our lips moved against each other perfectly. i didnt want to admit how much i was craving this. she slid her tongue into my mouth and they danced together as we made out. it was sweet. it was everything i had been missing. we slowly dwindled down and pressed our foreheads together. she took my head in her hands.
“i. love. you.”
i sniffled and lightly smiled up at her.
“you do?”
“i’ll say it again and again and again. however many times it takes for you to believe me.”
“you would?”
she brought her lips to my forehead and spoke against it, still holding my face.
“of course i would”.
laughing breathily, i retaliated.
“i love you too. i love you more, actually”.
she peeled her lips away from my forehead and looked me dead in the eyes.
“not possible. all those girls? they’ll never be like you.” she said, grinning wildly, waiting for my response.
my finally dried face turned damp again and my mouth turned up in a smile as happy tears streamed down my face. i hugged her so tight and cried into her neck, kissing it simultaneously.
“i love you paige. so much”.
“i love you more baby”.
pulling away from her neck, i crashed my lips onto hers. we made out for what seemed like hours, basking in the warmth that we brought each other.
azzi smiled at the sight of us making up, proud of her idiot best friends who didn’t know how to deal with their feelings.
we finally headed back to our place together. we went straight to our room and laid down, limbs tangled together.
my head rested on her chest as she gently played with the ends of my hair, curling them with her fingers.
the world had stopped spinning. paige and i were girlfriends. not best friends. everything aligned.
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SHARPEN YOUR TEETH (AND BITE AS HARD AS YOU WANT) | WYLL RAVENGARD
☾ tags ; SPOILERS FOR ACT ONE AND TWO OF BG3, gn + afab!reader, werewolf!reader, selunite cleric!reader developing relationship, canon typical violence, mild gore / blood, mutual pining, heat cycles, scent kink, oral (f + m!recieving), unprotected sex, praise kink, petnames (starlight, my love, my heart), lots of referring to reader as a dog / mutt / puppy, messy sex, reader has body hair / pubic hair, soft top wyll, a single pregnancy joke, 18+ MDNI
☾ wc ; 21.8k (????)
☾ a/n ; h...hello wyll nation. local deranged man here to offer this politely and run away. i dont really know what happened here. this was really just meant to be porn about a scent kink and uhm. well
i dont know if i wrote this fic as much as it used my physical vessel as a way to escape. it just sort of occured. im rarely nervous to post fic for a character but this is my first time doing a real wyll fic and bg3 fandom as many people i respect. so please be kind.
anyways. the embracing of monstrosity vs the rejection of it. so on and so forth. hope u enjoy. also banner is from slime isekai anime.
☾ synopsis ; there's a werewolf at camp. nothing new. wyll is growing increasingly fond of them. very new.
ao3 link for reading | spotify playlist.
The violent tearing sounds of teeth ripping through the flesh pulse and echo through the night air.
Blood sprays onto the furred creature responsible for it. All else grinds to a halt, the gnats and fireflies silent in awe as sharp claws crush through bone. Wyll can hear the sound of his own blood pumping as his eyes watch the massacre, hand drawn on his rapier. He looks over through the rest of his party
They remain just as awestruck. Astarion stands breathlessly. Shadowheart slinks into her namesake, eyes closed and trembling in the dark.
But Wyll watches, eyes fixed on the bloodshed. On the violence. The realization dawns on him too late that one of his party members is missing. You’re missing. He stares back at the creature, underneath the moon - silently slaughtering every last of their opposition until the battle field is left in a field of crimson. Death plagues every inch of dirt to the naked eye.
A whimper sounds. Followed by the sound of skin and bones retracting and moving back into place.
Where a werewolf once was is your naked form. Sat on your knees and bent over your body with tears at the corners of your eyes. Just your ears and tail remain, your mouth and hands covered in a thick layer of blood. You sniffle, the only light left to illuminate you ritual candles and moon as you turn your head back to your party.
“Uhm,” Your voice is coarse, thick with exhaustion and tears. Wyll stares at you in awestruck silence “We should probably talk.”
_
“So,” Gale’s voice and the obvious exasperation in it is enough to make Wyll feel sorry for you. You’re sitting at the campfire, finally clothed - with a blanket around your shoulder and Astarion tending to your wounds. “We have a Sharran, a vampire spawn, a werewolf, and a githyanki. Anything else we need to check off before we apply for a tent at the circus?”
Karlach takes the empty seat next to you, wanting to wrap her hand around the fluffy base of your tail and frowning when she realizes she can’t. Your ears are folded down, the corners of your eyes still wet with tears. You lean into Karlach’s heat, just enough to feel it.
The air is cool, thick with the scent of dirt and smoke. The campfire licks with light flames, surrounded by half cut logs for extra seating. You, Astarion, and Karlach crowd on a single half - draped with an extra bedroll for cushion.
“Don’t be so harsh on them, Gale,” Karlach says, glancing over at you “It’s hardly like they’re a threat to us. I mean.. look at them.”
Your frown deepens as you hang your head in shame.
“I thought we were past this, no? I mean we’ve all already been honest with each other so far. It’s a little late to be keeping something like this a secret is it not?”
“That’s true,” Wyll interjects, standing next to Gale across from the three of you - staring at your curled up form with sympathy. “I really don’t understand why you hid it for this long. Surely, you could’ve told us earlier?”
Your voice is weak and unusually frail. “The opportunity never presented itself.”
“You could have mentioned it when Astarion told us he was a vampire?” Wyll suggests.
“I didn’t want to steal his thunder, you know? Felt a bit rude, really.”
Astarion laughs, clearly wanting to laugh himself into hysterics but having enough tact not to do so. “Not a thing in that head of yours aside from our parasite, is there darling? But you know, I’m quite delighted by this revelation.
“Really?”
“Now we’ve got two monsters at our camp as opposed to just one! Evens out the playing field, in case things go south.”
“I’m not a monster,” You murmur, pouting. “And I don’t think you are either, for the record. I’m just a shifter. And my goddess is kind.”
“Oh? And who would that be?” Gale asks somewhat bitterly.
“Selune,” Shadowheart pipes up this time, for the first time since your arrival back to camp. Emerges from her own tent in the corner like a ghost. Her arms are crossed, brows pinched into a tight face of displeasure “She has a network of werewolves in her ranks. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
You look up at her saddened, like a kicked puppy for lack of a better word, casting your gaze away from hers. Shadowheart looks ferocious, her appearance locked onto your pitiful form with a familiar angry smolder. Wyll can’t decide if you’ve done anything so grand as to earn her ire, even if you’re a Selunite werewolf. Though, given all that Wyll knows about her, that may as well be the greatest sin of all.
Your voice is tiny and high-pitched as you play with your hands in your lap “I didn’t intend to hide it from you but y-yes. I don’t bear any hatred towards you or other Shar followers, but uhm, well, I didn’t think you’d be very happy about it. A-and then, well you know, back in the grove you mentioned you hated wolves so, I just… planned on never shifting.”
“You have control over something like that?” Wyll inquires. You nod, not looking up at him.
“I was born as a werewolf, not turned. So the moon doesn’t affect me in the same way it would someone who was turned and I have more control over when it happens. I can shift in and out. Usually no problem but when I’m caught off guard like that,” You lift your tail and swing it from side to side as if to emphasize the point “Sometimes I mess it up.”
“Chk. What a waste of ability. Think of how many we would’ve slaughtered had we known from the start.”
Wyll looks around. Everyone has gathered now, standing around the fire.
“A werewolf… I know little of them. Wild shape magic is vastly different. I hope your condition does not cause you too much trouble. Or us, for that matter.” Halsin adds apologetically.
“I didn’t intend for it to come out this way,,” You mumble pitifully. Shit, he really can’t help but feel bad. “I really did fully plan on keeping it to myself until the end. But, well, we were desperate. And I didn’t want to see anyone die,”
“Given our circumstances, I think it would be amiss to scold you for your bravery,” Wyll supplements, trying to ease your worries. He does mean it. Regardless of what happened, you did save everyone. “Plus, we’ve all kept secrets here.”
“Exactly right, soldier. Don’t beat yourself up about it,”
“Wow, what sort of double standard is this? When I came out as a vampire, you people couldn’t stop talking about how afraid you were I was going to bite you!” Astarion says with an exaggerated frown. You smile at him weakly.
Wyll gives him a disbelieving look. “Well you’re not exactly subtle about wanting to suck our blood, are you Astarion?”
Astarion huffs. “Everyone here is so unfair.”
Wyll laughs goodnaturedly, his eyes turning back onto you. He examines you in silent thought, his mind sifting over your last few months together.
After Gale gets over his initial frustration, his curiosity gets the better of him. He rejoins everyone—across from you on an empty log and Wyll joins along with them. Shadowheart and Lae-zel come too, as does Halsin.
Around the campfire, Gale pulls a book and quill from his tent before making himself comfortable.
“Well since we’ve all made up, I am a little curious about your condition.” He admits. A very Gale thing to do, Wyll thinks.
“I don’t mind any questions.” You reply gently. “It’s the least I can do.”
The whole camp softens at your display. Surprisingly, Shadowheart is the first to ask a question.
“Is it more comfortable for you…in your wolf form?”
You seem taken aback.. Though it dawns on you quickly why she would be asking that specifically.
“Ah, kind of? My humanoid form is also me but it feels… limiting at times.”
“Limiting?”
“Eating meat without my canines is a pain in my ass. Same with not being able to express myself with my ears or tail. I like traveling on my paws depending on the terrain.” You say, shaking your head. “It doesn’t bother me though mostly,”
Gale’s quill hitting the paper makes a loud scratching sound. Astarion has a snarky comment about it that Wyll misses. He’s too preoccupied with other things.
Hoping that you don't feel too badly about all this, for example.
“Does it affect your daily life in any way?”
“I don’t think so? I don’t know. It’s always been like this, so there’s nothing that different to me. I do notice how different I am around humans maybe,” You say, before perking up. You’ve just remembered something important. “Oh, but there is one thing.”
“What is it?” Wyll asks.
“My senses are much much sharper than other peoples. My sense of smell, especially.”
___
You remain together. Despite the mess. Somehow.
With this parasite in mind, and nothing left to lose - it’s better to stay together. Now that there are no important secrets kept hidden, the vibe is much more relaxed. The impending doom adds a layer of familiarity too. Wyll has often traveled with bands of strangers, but never for so long and with so many.
It gives him a sense of familiarity. Home. What a foreign word.
He thinks a lot of it is your contribution. They’re your pack, as you say so often. A special one with lots of different sorts of people. And you - you’re loyal to a fault. It helps. You and Karlach are a lot alike, but Wyll would venture to call you a little more tender. It helps fill in the gaps.
Wyll knows you’re a werewolf but it’s hard not to think of you as a dog in that sense. A different dog to Scratch, maybe. But a dog all the same - with folded ears and a softail and propensity for drooling depending on the way you sleep.
He’s only really reminded of the fact that you’re part wolf when you use your abilities in battles. It’s your failsafe. You only do it when you think it’s dire, and before that you air on the side of diplomacy. You’re a hunter should the need arise though. Sometimes you don’t transform completely. Where your usual canines are meant to linger in your mouth are a set of teeth too big for it. Instead of hands, sometimes there are soft paws with sharpened nails.
There are three ways you can transform for that matter. Human, werewolf, or just wolf. Wyll finds these little distinctions fascinating, and more fascinating that you tend to opt for one end of the spectrum or the other.
Wyll quickly learns some of your physical attributes are the same irregardless of what you look like. The fact you are agile and quick and strong, or the fact you can travel fast on all fours. The fact you like meat, and the fact you whine rather loudly when you’re upset.
When you’re using your abilities, many would think you a ruthless killer.
But after everyones cleared from harm, you’ll transform back into your usual human self - naked and covered in blood and frowning. You spit up meat that tastes bad and whine loudly if no one tells you good job.
(That job often falls on Wyll or Shadowheart. Gale or Karlach if they’re traveling with you. Astarion is only kind enough to do it in a semi-mocking way, but Wyll is keenly aware of how sincere his praise can be.)
In moments like that, you’re just a dog again. A puppy, sometimes. Loyal. And novel, and interesting for many reasons.
Wyll should expect your loyalty by now. He sees it so often, how unyielding and faithful you always are. To your goddess and to your pack and to whatever else you’ve deemed important to you.
He should’ve known that you’d probably try to seek him out tonight, after everything that’s happened among all of you.
He did watch you for a bit at the start. You worked clockwise through all of your companions, stopped in between for stories and gossip. Some of the tiefling kids wanted to see your tail and you’re too good a spirit to tell them no.
Wyll wouldn’t dare hope for you finding him, but he is a little relieved when you do.
“Wyll! There you are,”
Wyll’s eyes snap up.
“Ah, Hells. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone,” He says regretfully.
“Of course I noticed! How could I not notice our very own warlock disappear? It was no party without you.”
Wyll wonders if you’re being sincere. He hopes you are. The night air is cool as the two of you share space. Away from the party, only sand and rubble between your feet. And a body of water that looks like it could go on forever.
It’s a full moon tonight.
“Really? I’m honored,” He peers out into the lake. Suddenly aware of his body, Wyll recoils into himself. The movement is subtle enough to be overlooked. The horns on the top of his head feel especially heavy. The skin pulled around the base of them throbs. It’s not painful, but it is unpleasant. “In truth, I don’t feel a festive mood and I didn’t want to cast a gray cloud over the night.”
“Is it too intrusive for me to ask?”
“Not at all,” Wyll assures. Your words are comfortable and soft, concerned without being pitiful. “I’m a devil. I love the people of the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays.”
Wyll can hear his own somber. He doesn’t wince, but it's impossible to ignore. Even explaining himself only adds to his melancholy. He’s quiet for a while, his voice touched with a destitution and irony. And bitterness, maybe.
You remain still and steady beside him. He can’t tear his gaze away from the endless water, comforted by its vastness. How it generally disregards him and distorts his reflection.
“You don’t want a devil at your party. Horns this sharp will pop the balloons you see. And the guests won’t take kindly to scars quite so monstrous.” He jokes, trying to keep his voice light.
He doesn’t think he succeeds at it.
Silence once more. Wyll can see you, but your expression is unchanged. Your eyes are clear underneath the ever changing moon.
“You don’t unsettle me. You never have.” There’s conviction behind your words. They comfort him.
“If only half the world had half the heart you do.” Wyll tells you, and means every word. He tries to brighten up, waving you off. “Don’t let my introspection spoil your night. Off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”
He hopes it’s enough to get you to forget about him for tonight.
When you walk off, Wyll is expecting you to disappear. It’s enough that you’ve checked on him. He would’ve been content with it, left to reflect on his troubles alone. You’ve done something significant with your reassurance. He isn’t so tactless to keep you from celebrating. even when he would maybe want more time with you.
You return to him though. With a bottle of wine, and a bedroll you spread in the empty sand next to him. You give him an unreadable look followed by a cheeky smile, making yourself comfortable on the ground.
“Come on. Sit.”
Confused, Wyll sits. You open the bottle of wine with your teeth as a cork and drink from the top before passing it over to him. He takes it from you and stares at the place you’ve just drank from. You start to talk while he debates mimicking you.
“You don’t have to pretend it’s less difficult than it is,” You say almost thoughtlessly. Almost. “You’ve lost your body. Yourself. That must be hard.”
Wyll looks at you, then back at the colored glass of the bottle. He clears his throat. “It is. More than I imagined it to be.”
“You know, I was born a werewolf. And I had just about the best circumstances a person could have with that in mind. Selune accepts me and my clergy was mostly kind. Still, I heard the word monster a lot from people outside my circle. I could feel the distrust that I incited in outsiders. So, I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through,” You say, your legs stretched out far into the sand, past the confinement of a tiny square bedroll “But I do know what it’s like to feel accused when you’ve done nothing wrong. You especially, Blade of Frontiers. I think you’re allowed to grieve the trust it feels like you’ve lost, or might lose. If it’s worth anything, though, I know you’re not a monster.”
Wyll barely gets a chance to process the words as they come. He wonders if this is what people mean by feeling seen by someone else. “You know?”
“Damn right I know,” Your response comes without hesitation. The night air blows along his skin, a soft and tender caress. Wyll frowns when you don't elaborate.
“How could you know something like that?” He asks.
“Lotsa reasons. You’re still nice and thoughtful and caring and charming. But, hm, well the most obvious reason is a little more primitive.” You take a deep inhale. “Your scent,”
“...I’m sorry?”
Your laugh is bright, and bubbly.
“Your scent,” You repeat calmly, taking a deep sigh after saying it. “Everyone at camp has a scent. It’s a little abstract, but they change when people change. Shadowheart smells the leaves of black currant and uh, Halsin smells like sequoia wood. Lae’zel smells like black tea and metal. Gale smells like licorice. Astarion smells a lot like applemint. Karlach smells like smoke and star anise,”
Wyll finds himself both awestruck and amused.
“These are all rather specific,”
“I’ve always been a bit of a bloodhound so I’ve developed a talent at identifying specifics. It was shitty when I was a runt. Even a trip outside could give me the worst fuckin’ headache, but it got better the more I got used to it.” You give Wyll a glance “Anyways. Scent changes. When someone changes, their scent does too. Moods and days and everything affect it too.”
“And mine hasn’t changed, is what you’re saying?”
“No. Not in the way that’d make you different. It’s stronger, but it hasn’t changed. You haven’t changed.” You say quietly, and take a deep breath. “Not to me at least.”
“You’ve conveniently left out my scent from your description.” Wyll says with fond amusement. He feels reassured. It’s absurd, yet Wyll is so inclined to believe you. “Is it something so awful?”
You flush, suddenly becoming timid.
“Yours is… good,” You say simply, and softly. You seem embarrassed to continue. He can’t help but find it so incredibly endearing. ��It’s just harder for me to describe. But it’s good. It’s personally my favorite. “
You add the last part a little quieter.
“And it hasn’t changed,” Wyll says more than asks this time.
“No. Stronger, but the same.” You curl in on yourself, crossing your legs as you turn your head to face him, head tilted towards one side with a smile. “You’re not a devil to me. Just Wyll. And I like just Wyll.”
Wyll feels his chest tight as you lean your head on your shoulder contentedly. He tries not to read it into, hoping you can’t hear how loudly his heart is pounding. He takes a drink from the wine bottle straight, the same place your lips touched moments ago.
He likes you, too. The words don’t come out right.
“Yes…I’m,” He’s speechless, hands folded in his lap as he stares at you. “Me too. Our journey together has proved important to me. Thank you.”
You smile but don’t say anything more.
___
With the goblin camp clear, the journey towards the Shadowfell lands becomes increasingly pervasive. You’ve done more traveling and less resting in the last few weeks than you have thus far in your journey.
Smoke clouds in the horizon are what draw you to Waukeens rest.
On your way to the mountain pass, for easy access to the city, lay a massacre of bodies and fire. The distress has far from subsided. The thick smog continues to build, folds into itself like massive heaps of wool - suffocating everything on every path in its surroundings. The smell of ash is invasive, even from a fair distance away.
Blood trails from one end of the path towards the main entrance. As your party’s distance begins to close in, Wyll feels his lungs fill up with a familiar tightness. The burning air makes his eyes and lungs sting.
“Shit, the fire is still burning. There must still be people in need of aid. We should,” You cough hard as you look at what's in front of you. Eyes squinted trying to make out the horizon. “We should get there and see if we can aid them,”
Astarion groans “For just one day, could we rest? Leave this nonsense up to the other wandering travelers desperate for recognition? Is that asking so much?”
“As long as I’m pinning down bodies for you to feed off, you’ve got to listen to me, you know? You laugh warmly at his sarcasm. “Now, If you don’t stop complaining you’ll fall behind, pretty boy, and there’ll be not a thing left for you to suck dry.”
“I should report you for that, you know. Threats of starvation against the imprisoned violate the law,”
You laugh a little as you start to make your way forward. The four of you jog towards the entrance of Waukeens rest with urgency, more yours and Wyll’s than Astarion’s and Shadowheart’s.
Among the scenery at the front entrance of Waukeens rest - what concerns Wyll most is not the death. Not the bodies ashen among flame or the flames themselves that continue to widen and encompass. It is that, among those bodies, are members of the Flaming Fist. Past the sour memory of his life comes the worry, the fear.
What in the Hells are the Flaming Fist doing around this area?
Away from the woman praying over a body, are a small number of Fist’s pushing on the doorway of a locked and burning building. You’re quick to run to it. Wyll barely keeps up.
Before you can ask about the situation at hand, a Flaming Fist member addresses you and your party.
“Grand Duke Ravengard could be inside, don’t just stand there - push!”
Wyll’s voice betrays him, speaking before he has a minute to think. “Ravengard? He’s here?”
“Yes, now make yourself useful- push, damn it, push!”
Wordlessly from next to him, you gear yourself up and push kick the door in. Strong enough that the wood crumbles to nothing, Wyll watches the doors open wide and the flames that lick at the inside of the building. A cloud of smoke billows out as the Flaming Fist pour in, your party quick to follow in alongside them.
Through the thickets of smoke and up stairs half-broken, sounds Counselor Florrick's voice from behind the broken door. Maneuvering through ember and broken floorboard, you proceed the same as you did before. Pushing through the crowd of people surrounding the door - you use your foot and kick the door in again, causing it to break nearly instantly.
Counselor Florrick coughs as she makes her way outside.
“Come. I’m afraid proper thanks must wait,” She says with a heaved breath. It’s too clouded with smoke for Wyll to make anything of her face and Wyll can only assume that is the case both ways.
Back down through the way you came, you take a deep inhale of smoke and cough. The scent must be nauseating, far too much for you - but you don’t let it show through your face.
Once everyone has been accounted for outside, Counselor Florrick approaches your party in the broad daylight of the courtyard. It’s there she recognizes Wyll.
“Hold on,” Wyll says, reaching into his pack. He hands you a sachet of herbs he’d purchased alongside you from a merchant in the goblin camp. “For your nose,”
You give him a look of surprise, your ears perking up and tails swishing as you take it from him gratefully, holding it up to your nose for a deep breath.
“Fuck, thank you.” You reply gratefully. Wyll nods in reply.
“Counsellor Florrick - are you alright?” Wyll says first, concern pouring through. Regardless of all else.
It’s clear right away, the horror in his face once she’s seen what’s become of him. Wyll lets it roll off of his back, the momentary sting not enough to make him flinch. It’s a reminder to start adjusting to what will be one of many.
Her sympathy is tangible, though it doesn’t make Wyll feel better.
“Wyll - by the Maimed God, what’s become of you?”
He shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “A story best left for calmer days. Now breathe deeply, are you in pain?”
“A scorched throat, a few hairs singed off. Nothing a bit of time and fresh air can’t cure.”
Wyll’s shoulder sag with relief. She turns to address the Flaming Fist accompanying her.
“Gauntlet, a new duty calls. Drow have taken Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard - westward if my eyes and ears can be believed.” She pauses, thinking before giving further instruction “Report to the manip and send for reinforcements. We must find the Grand Duke.”
“On your command, Counsellor.” The head of the Gauntlet affirms, bowing their head before taking off.
It’s there that Wyll feels panic. Uncertainty like nothing he’s felt in the last seven years. Maybe longer. No longer a passing thought or a sour memory, concern for his father washes out what might’ve been grief.
“No. It can’t be. You mean, they’ve taken -”
Counselor Florrick's expression darkens. “Yes, Wyll. The drow have your father.”
“Shit, what? Wyll, you’re a noble?” You interject for the first time in the conversation. When Wyll turns to you, above all else is concern. He shakes his head.
“The circumstances of my birth are no matter of pride for neither me nor my father. But pride is no reason to refuse help to my own flesh and blood. How can we help?.”
“Rescue Ravengard from his drow captors. Baldur's Gate needs him, now more than ever,” She says, addressing you primarily and Wyll after. She pauses to examine Wyll a second time, like now that she’s out of the smoke she is really looking.
A passing glance of her brings back memories of a childhood long forgotten. Days spent in courtyards training the sword and waiting for father to finish his duties. An ache starts to form in the cavity of his chest, but Wyll swallows it.
Where duty calls, it is only common sense the Blade will answer. He holds a fist over his heart and bows.
“Trust us to see it through, Counsellor.”
“Who is this Duke Ravengard?” You ask, finally - though it’s not to him. Rather it’s to the Counselor. Wyll wonders if that’s a choice you’ve made on purpose.
“The invisible force holding Baldur’s Gate together. Without him, the city’s collapse is certain.” She pauses, looking troubled “I fear that may have been the intention of those who abducted him.”
“Shit. Then, not to be rude, but why entrust this to me? You have others at your command. More well equipped, I’d imagine,” You ask, bearing no hostility. A fair enough question for you, head of pack, with concerns for everyone else.
“Isn’t it clear? You travel with the Blade of Frontiers. Who might I trust, if not a legend? Who might rise to the moment, if not Ravengard’s own son?”
You pause to mull over her reply. Your brow is furrowed in concentration, before your focus returns to the Counselor.
“I don’t think the drow have taken him back to Menzoberranzan. More likely they’ve taken the Duke to Moonrise Towers.” You say tentatively. “Though Hells, I can’t be sure. Goblin’s bein’ here is weird and their affairs are tied together somehow. Plus, the drow we’ve met in this area so far have relations to other cultist bullshit,”
“I was thinking the same,” Wyll adds.
“Moonrise Towers? Along the old road? That place is cursed, few could survive there…unless darker forces are at work,” She pauses, taking a moment to assess the situation “This was no random attack, then. The Grand Duke was their target.”
After more deliberating, you look firmly at the Counselor and nod - a serious promise.
“Moonmaiden guide us - we’ll head to Moonrise towers and find Duke Ravengard. Though for now, I won’t promise anything.”
“Thank you. When the Grand Duke returns to the city, he’ll hail his only son a hero.” She says with a deep breath “Approach the towers with care. The land itself has been swallowed in shadow.”
She turns to address him this time “Remember Wyll. ‘Courage is found in the battle against fear, not in the defeat of it.’”
“So father said. I won’t soon forget it.”
“We’ll be heading off now, towards the towers. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Counselor Florrick.”
With that, the Florrick disappears back out into the smoke and open road. Left in the aftermath is the rest of the party, not barring you - and Wyll with nothing but worry.
Your eyes find Wyll’s with ease, filled to the brim with concern. Wyll casts his gaze away instinctively.
“Shit,” Wyll swears, unsure of what the reaction from you will be.
“Wyll,” Your voice calls and soothes. Before his response forms in his mouth, he feels a hand on the nape of his neck. In a sudden movement, you lean into him. Even amongst the swallowing heat of fire and ember - Wyll is conscious of your skin. The scrapes and cuts on your fingers raised press against his own. You inhale a long breath and Wyll realizes what you’re doing. It’s confirmation when you pull away and glance at him seriously. “Can I trust you to tell me what’s going on?”
The question itself is exposing. It’s a raw nerve, split open, tender and unhealed. There’s no shame in it. Or maybe there is, always has been - and Wyll has spent nearly seven years outrunning it. This much he knows - he never intended to show you this part of himself.
And he knows that this is not the first time he’s betrayed your trust. You ask Wyll to trust you, and Wyll wants to explain he always has.
There is no betrayal in your face, no disappointment.
You come to him ready to receive anything. Crystal clear eyes and a sincerity in your heart - there is so much said in so little.
“I’m sorry. It was never,” He’s struck by grief in a sudden moment. You’re kind, but it goes well beyond just that. “I had no intent to hide it.”
“But you had no intent to share it either,” You say, your voice soft-spoken and tender. Forgiving, though you don’t make Wyll feel like there’s something he needs forgiveness for. “It’s okay. We’re damn similar sometimes aren't we?”
When you let go of Wyll, he stares at you. Wide-mouthed and unsure of himself. For a brief moment, his surroundings become blurry. There’s no one else in the party. There’s no smoke. There’s no fire. No ash. For a brief moment, there’s just you - and you’re smiling. You feel like forgiveness.
“Florrick spoke true,” Wyll affirms, unsure of what to do with himself. “I am a Grand Duke’s son.”
“Not just a grand duke - Ravengard has more power and influence than anyone.” Astarion adds.
“My father and I were close. Once upon a time. Until he disowned me and cast me out of Baldur’s Gate,” Wyll says with a hardened heart. He’s forgiven his father. He’s spent years rationalizing the choice he made. But he’s reminded in an instant that the wound is still tender. “I can’t tell you more - the pact forbids it. My lips are quite literally sealed.”
“Okay,” You give Wyll a look, clear and bright. “Then, Wyll - do you want to save your father?”
He wasn’t expecting that to be your only question. It must show that he’s taken aback, but you remain where you are unflinching.
“Yes, I—yes. Regardless of our relationship, he remains my flesh and blood.” You press your lips together, an encouraging half smile, prompting him. “And I don’t want him to fall into the hands of Absolutists for any reason. He made me an exile, but I’m not about to let him suffer at the hands of his captors.”
“Alright. Then we’ll save him,” You brush over the weight of that sentence, addressing your other companions. “The only lead we’ve got so far is Moonrise towers, so we’ll stick to our original plans. Visiting the creche and then traveling through the Underdark.”
Wyll stares at you as you continue to talk, the words feeling like little more than noise. Lost in thought, you let him remain undisturbed. When your eyes meet, you don’t do anything more than grin - fang poking out form underneath your lip.
And it’s the second time in his life, Wyll feels like you’re seeing something he can’t. Himself, maybe.
__
A confrontation with the githyanki and a red dragon later, you return to camp the night of visiting Waukeen’s rest.
When night falls, you join Wyll in his tent. The gesture is innocent. You ask about having a sleepover. Wyll tries to remember there’s nothing but friendship between you. Eventually helets you into the cramped space of his tent. There’s barely enough space for you both, but you manage.
Before bed, you ask Wyll to tell you about himself. Anything he can afford to tell you. For a long while, he talks about being the Blade of Frontiers. But then, when it’s late enough and the gap between you continues to shrink - he talks about his life in the city. It doesn’t happen on purpose. Wyll is hardly so ungentlemanly. It’s unlike him to cluelessly go on and on about himself.
You just happen to know exactly the right questions. Before Wyll knows it, he’s telling you about all of his escapades. His life as a nobleman's son and escaping to fraternize with lower city youth.
Wyll can’t disclose his pact to you, but he can tell you about the kiss he had at fifteen. He can tell you about the first time he lost a tooth, or describe the well-worn picture of his late mother in his fathers wallet. For a while, Wyll recounts tales of a life he’d thought he’d abandoned. When the words come out, they don’t feel like violence. Don’t coat his mouth with the bitter taste of iron. Instead they taste light like memories, and come out just as soft.
He doesn’t remember when either of you drift off to sleep.
When morning comes and Wyll finds you still in his tent, he feels the ability to claim plausible deniability drift away from him.
You mean more to him than he thought. The moment passes to tell you.
___
The journey to the Underdark is never an easy one.
Underneath the desecrated Selune temple was the beaten path. A long ladder down through a broken Selunite outpost. Not only have you all fought a spectator, a bullete, several hook horrors and an entire beach of duegars - you’ve just slaughtered an Absolutist leader with your bare hands.
The remaining duegar have fled the scene after a night to recover, leaving Nere’s body for the lot of you to loot. The gnomes have gone too. Wyll tries to hold confidence all of them will make it in one piece.
The Sovereign had made his request clear, slaughter Nere and bring his head. Wyll has watched you kill and devour several bodies in your time together, but there’s something novel about watching you do it now. A knife, pulled out from your sheath - sharp as it cuts and saws through the flesh. It’s a clean, precise slice. Nothing like you, Wyll thinks fondly.
He can surmise that it’s because you’re rather fond of the myconid colony. They’re kind to you and you are always fond of those who are kind. In that way you’re easy to appease. But he didn’t know you were capable of this level of care. You tend to be matted and ruddy. Generally messy.
Wyll likes you that way.
The head comes off the body unceremoniously. You wrap a cloth underneath the bottom, and tuck it in your pack along some cubes of ice you had Gale make you with magic that morning.
Wyll only sees the outline of your back. He watches as you stretch your palms out and examine them for blood. When you find none, you turn around with a little tired sigh.
Promptly, you prop yourself onto Shadowheart. Your ear and tails have made a reappearance, your chin resting on her shoulder.
“I'm tiiiiiiiiired,” You whine, long and drawn out. Your teeth stick out from your lips when you pout, Wyll notices. The heat of the forge and all of the surrounding lava have your skin sticky with sweat. The deep purple of the destroyed Sharran enclave feels out of place among the fires “I don’t want to go to the Shadowfell lands. I won’t. You can’t make me,”
You’ve picked up a habit of being touchy. You tend to cling to Shadowheart, which Wyll finds ironic. Even with her cold exterior, the half-elf doesn’t push you off when you hug or pester her. You make promises to Karlach you’ll join her for it once her engines all fixed. Lae’zel finds it pointless. Halsin doesn’t mind, and likes to turn into a bear so all the furry creatures at camp can turn into big pile.
Gale also doesn’t mind, but the wizard usually airs on the side of embarrassment - a faint blush crawling over him whenever you wrap yourself thoughtlessly about him. Astarion pretends to reject it, but willingly pets and scratches you when he feels less combative. Something you happily recieve.
And Wyll… well, it doesn’t bother him. You approach him often enough, and he’d be hard-pressed on a reason to reject you.
(He ignores the way your touch seems to linger, unsure if he’s seeing things that don’t belong. Wyll is fond of you. Your heart is good - he thinks of you often but he isn’t so sure that means something. Well it means plenty to him, but what of you?
You like the sensation of physical affection, he reminds himself Nevermind the times you’ve fallen asleep as a wolf in his lap. Nevermind the occasional naps in his tent, or whines when he’s too busy to pay you mind.)
“You’re not ferocious at all, do you know? More like a drooling mutt than a werewolf,” Shadowheart huffs sarcastically.
“What I lack in ferocity I make up for in vigor.” You reply with a hum, rubbing your cheek against Shadowheart’s shoulder. “And the situation doesn’t spark any vigor in me. We’ve already been underground this long and next we’re going somewhere even darker.”
Astarion pipes up, sitting criss-cross onto the marbled floor in one of the few spots free of blood, sorting through his varied belongings and trinkets. “I would figure werewolves and vampires share their love for the darkness, no?”
“We can’t see the moon well from either place. I need to see the moon to track some things related to my form. I count the phases in my head but if I don’t see it for too long - I start getting homesick like a man at sea.” You whine and huff again, this time peeling yourself off of Shadowheart and throwing yourself onto Wyll.
He steadies himself enough not to topple over by your strength and weight as you drape yourself across his back. You nuzzle your cheek against him tenderly. It’s different to how you do it to Shadowheart or Astarion (when he’s not adamantly pushing you away.) It’s more tender, closer. Your nose brushes against the nape of his neck. Wyll doesn’t flinch, even at the warmth of your breath. You inhale again and Wyll can hear the swish of your tail.
He pretends to be ignorant of it and doesn’t push you away - instead laughing lightly.
“Oh, Moonmaiden - let your moon be my light, and I shall let my sword be your shining symbol.” You recite with a sigh. The words reverberate along his skin. “Moon my love, you are terribly missed.”
“Keep your Selunite prayer out of my ears, would you?”
“Don’t be so moody, my cold blooded Sharran. Our Lady of SIlver is a kind and accepting goddess, so her blessing will extend even to you.”
Shadowheart crinkles her nose. You laugh noisily next to Wyll’s ear. He smiles softly.
“After we’ve delivered the head to the Sovereign, we can travel back overhead before going into the Shadowfell. That way, you’ve had some time with the moon and we’re able to get in more rest before taking it on,”
You pull away from him now, grabbing his shoulder to turn him around with a laugh. Wyll looks at you wide-eyed as you grin at him, knocking your foreheads together innocently.
“Ah, what a great idea! If everyone else is on board, then let’s make our way to the Sovereign now and recoup on the surface. We’ll return to Grymforge come mornin’ and head off that way. Is everyone on board with that?”
You look around for affirmation before resting your gaze on Wyll with a smile.
Wyll feels his heart tug slightly, returning your smile before averting his eyes. You scamper off to Astarion, attention easily pulled in every which way. Shadowheart saunters towards him.
“You’re rather obvious, Blade of Frontiers. I thought a folk hero would have a little more suave about these matters.”
Wyll clears his throat.
“...I don’t know what you’re referring too.”
Shadowheart laughs good-naturedly.
“Sure you don’t.”
___
There are few times you take your proper werewolf form.
It’s an accommodation thing from Wyll’s understanding. People are frightened less of full wolves or your humanoid forms. The hybridized version of yourself is what people find the most monstrous, and so - you’ve gotten used to putting on the shelf.
The only time you take that form is when you hunt for meat. It’s easy enough to get ahold of other camp supplies - like liquor or vegetables if they’re lucky. But meat is hard to find, especially hard to find where it hasn’t got spoiled. Astarion hunts only out of necessity, so he’s not really any help.
You hunt because it’s natural to you. A life of pilgrimage and spent in a Selunite enclave has gifted you the knowledge of preserving meats, too. When you’re camped out near enough forest - you’ll hunt. Most often before a long stretch of travel, you’ll go into the woods alone and disappear - returning with a feast. No one goes with you. In the forest, among fallen trees and soil - you’ll gut and skin the prey. You’ll bring back the final products, clean hides and things to turn to leather and meat ready for curing. It’s to prevent any more unusual bloodshed from occurring at camp. More sanitary, you always say.
Wyll has no intention of following you tonight while he knows you’re hunting. His interest in the woods is to scope them out one last time before you leave this place for good, keep it in his memory and prepare for the road ahead.
When he hears the sound of a faint growling, he thinks for a minute you’ve been injured or are in some kind of danger.
The moon is shining just enough to cast light on your form. He figures out quickly you’re safe.
There’s nothing new to see. Thick, crimson blood makes a mess of your appearance - dripping down your fangs. It sticks and matts in your fur, covering your face in messy splatters. Your werewolf form is your most monstrous. Unnatural limbs and features - a form like a human but the face and ferocity of a wolf.
In front of you are corpses of animals, bled out and laid in a pile. The scent of blood is so strong Wyll can smell it from a distance away. It’s a distance you’d usually be able to smell Wyll from, but it must be masked by the smell of copper and flesh.
The moon has waned, nearly to its fullest. You turn yourself towards the black sky of midnight, towards the moon - and you howl. It is a loud, tremendous sound.
Wyll has never heard you howl before. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life. An elongated melody, deep from your chest - high and throaty. You howl to the sky. You howl to the moon. To your goddess, most certainly. You howl in the version of yourself everyone finds most disgusting. The monster in you is alive and bare-chested to the world. Stood on your two feet, all matted fur and eyes like beams of light - you howl towards the sky.
And Wyll watches. Listens. Commits the sound to memory.
In the version of yourself that is so embraced by monstrosity, you howl like a song to the moon you so adore.
He’s never found you so beautiful.
___
Time moves differently in the Shadowfell lands.
Slower. In every other part of Fae’run, the nights and days don’t blur into each other. But here, in the abandoned and unyielding darkness - everything feels thick. Muddy. The soil that does not dampen, the trees that do not grow leaves. Instead of preserved amber, there is only shadow. It swallows everything, every place in the land.
The upward battle of survival persists. The Harpers have (barely) welcomed you into the Last Light Inn. Flaming Fist Marcus is dead, and the Moon Maiden has given her her blessing. You’ve even been able to give Karlach her first upgrade.
The air speaks for itself though, that you’re nearing something important. The beginning of something. Or the end, though Wyll sways towards hope and optimism.
In the presence of darkness and solace, -Wyll finds that you remain yourself. Bright and clear and comforting, even in the face of impending doom.
Your camp in the Shadowfell lands is brightened by artificial lights. It spans over more land now. The main area which hosts all of your companions lies at the foot of an abandoned building. An abandoned house, torn by vines of shadowfell and roots. The base of camp is spread over dusty ashen floors, everything colored gray.
When it’s time to rest, most lights remain on. He finds it’s easier to sleep with Selune’s blessing.
Tonight, Wyll can't get any rest at all. He’s still awake while his companions have fallen asleep. He opens his eyes to the skies. They lack the deep shades of purple of a normal night sky, unmistakably dark.
His eyes remain lidded as he takes a look at his surroundings. Shadowheart is asleep, and Astarion is deep enough in meditation that Wyll doubts he’d noticed if he walked off. Among his companions, you’re missing from your bedroll.
Wyll sits up as quietly as he can. He looks towards your tent, to see if you’ve woken up to sleep inside - but doesn’t find you there either. His brow tightens, shoulders tense as he blinks rapidly trying to wake himself up.
There aren’t many places in this camp to go, despite the terrain being wider. The other tent occupants remain in place. From where Wyll stands you’re not with anyone else like Karlach or Halsin.
There’s only one more place that would leave you.
Through a curve and another straight path are wood stairs. At the top is a skeleton of an old house. One that stood long before the curse, and remains long after.
Wyll has never gone there on his own. He only saw it once while they’d settled in for the first time. There’s nothing inside of it. A fireplace, a broken cupboard and cabinet. A table and chair, and two old beds that have gone rickety overtime.
He ducks his head as he enters through what must’ve once been a door.
It occurs to him he’s never really seen you pray. Not fully at least. Though you utter it on occasion, the words of your goddess - you tend to speak them lightly. Wyll gathers its out of respect for Shadowheart.
He finds you on the edge of a large bed in the center of the room. You’re in your humanoid form, with only your ears and tail and teeth - your hands are clasped tightly around a necklace. The fireplace is burning, but it’s not what illuminates you.
All around you though is a pale blue glow, like the moon itself has surrounded you with all of its might. You’re quiet in incantation - the warmth of a smile lighting up your features. You’re not in your usual nightwear of a loose shirt and pants. Instead you wear the silk of a slip and something like a Selunite robe, open. Wyll has seen so much of your skin before, everything past your knees barren. But its a new feeling. Your neck and shoulders are just the same, your hand on your chest ducking from view.
You breathe deeply, before your eyes flutter open and see him at the door. You smile at him.
“You’re awake,” You say first, letting go of the necklace chain. “Hope everything’s alright?”
“Sorry. And yes, everything is fine - I had just woken up and couldn’t find you,” Wyll feels flush as he adds the rest to the conversation “And I uhm. Well I was worried something might have happened.”
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I figured everyone would be asleep so I didn’t bother telling anyone,” You say apologetically “Our Silver Lady called to me so I felt I ought to answer.”
You pause before laughing. “Wait, sit first. Unless you’re going back to sleep right away.”
Wyll shakes his head as your grin widens making his heart feel rather funny.
He sits next to you, fond as you bring your leg up and face him. Your back rests on the broken wood at the foot of the bed. You’ve tidied the room a bit, and these sheets don’t have as much dust as they did when you first got here.
Wyll mirrors your actions, sitting with a leg up - bent at the knee as he stares at you.
“You said your goddess called to you?”
“Ah, yes,” Your voice is uncharacteristically shy. Wyll can’t help but stare at the bare crook of your knees. “Shadowheart had mentioned it. There’s something in these lands. And well, wherever Shar goes, Selune will follow and all. Don’t really know what it means, though. Bit of mystery.”
“You’re a cleric, right?” Wyll asks, taking a brief moment to assess and remember all the little details about yourself you’ve told him.
When he thinks of it, there’s so much about you he doesn’t know. Though he feels you know everything there is to know about him. It’s not that you’re secretive, but it’s rare to get a moment alone. Harder to find a moment appropriate to air out your past.
Alone with you in this shadowy, dimly lit room - Wyll hopes time will slow. Long enough to know something more about you, at least.
“Right. I try not to crutch too much on my magic so I tend to stick to fighting,” You say with a laugh “I also had to learn physical combat and martial arts. It feels like a waste not to use.”
“I see,” Wyll says with a thoughtful hum “But you are a cleric, all the same. Quite an impressive title to bestow on someone, I’d imagine.”
“Ah, truthfully - I find it a bit difficult,” You reply sheepishly, surprising Wyll.“I’m sort of simple, all things considered. I thought I’d be my Lady’s sword or just part of her clergy, but I never imagined I’d do anything so important. Or have powers so great.”
The sound of your voice feels especially pleasant to Wyll like this, murmurs just between you with no threat of doom. Like between these broken wooden planks, is a peace impenetrable. He likes being with you.
“Before your capture, were you? Set out to do something important, I mean,”
“Importance is relative. But, it was a mission I was proud taking,” You reply thoughtfully. A confirmation of the sanctity in your character for you to make such a distinction. “I had been sent by my clergy to wander Faerun - to aid other lycanthropes and those touched by madness or ailment.
“You alone had been sent?
You nod, staring down at your hands folded in your lap.
“Aye, me alone. I’d wandered around for several years when I was sent away before the ship had captured me. I was on my way to Baldur’s Gate as part of it,”
“Where do you hail from?”
“Amn. There’s a few small Selunite enclaves there. Mama was a Silverstar, which is mostly a pretty word for a very powerful priestess. My fate was divined when I was seventeen and the rest is history.”
“Seventeen is young. What was your final destination then? Or was it more of a wandering practice.”
“After some years, I was hoping to get to Waterdeep actually. Big church for Selune over there, very beautiful.” Your voice teeters on wistful, blooming with longing and nostalgia. You peek at Wyll through your lashes. “In that way, we have a lot in common.”
“A lot in common. Do you really think so?”
“Mm, I do. Banished at seventeen, a monster inside us, some sort of tragic background. We make a fun pair.”
“I didn’t know there was a tragic story in yours. To the extent you could call it one,” Wyll says quietly. You give Wyll a look. Though he doesn’t pressure you to expand on it, you seem relaxed enough to talk about it.
You close your eyes briefly, letting them flutter open.
“It was a year into my pilgrimage, I think,” You explore, a soft sadness tender in your expression. Wyll sits up a little straighter, readying himself to receive whatever you wish to tell him. “A small village in the Dalelands. Young girl, about seven. Her village had ostracized her. By the time I arrived, she was emaciated. Clever little thing had survived on her own but barely,”
Wyll waits patiently for you to continue, not wanting to interrupt you even briefly. He softens his gaze.
“Anyway. When I go anywhere new, the basic practice is meeting locals. Depending on the circumstances, I won’t always disclose my wolven ways. Some people - they need guidance, others they need protection. In her case, she needed both,” You look far away somehow. Wyll feels empathy as much as he feels warmth. Your care for the human condition, he always finds, touches him. “She was much smarter than me, you know. Her lycanthropy was inherited like mine, but because she was so young - she had a difficult time controlling it.”
You pause to take a long, deep, steadying breath. “She was my little genius. I cared for her an awful lot. Still do. She beat me at lanceboard all the time, despite being seven and I wasn’t even letting her win you know.”
“She must’ve been even more brilliant than I could imagine.” Wyll offers. You nod.
“Despite my efforts, the relationship between her and her village wasn’t getting better. One day, I’d left her in my chambers for a while - to bring something back from a market nearby. Less than a few hours, and she’d been uhm,” Your voice starts to close. Wyll follows his instinct, squeezing your hand where it rests on your knee. It’s shaking when he reaches for it. He thinks briefly about kissing it. “She’d been killed,”
Wyll pauses, lets you collect yourself. But he wants to know as much as you’ll tell him.
“It was easy enough to figure out who’d done it. And in small villages like that, the hivemind bullshit and paranoia really gets to people,” Your voice intones on bitterness. Angry and heartbroken, you continue “Grown men raising an ax to kill a little girl. I almost lost my mind. I should’ve.”
“But you didnt…? Or did you? In a situation like that, well,” Wyll looks at you sympathetically. “Any choice you made I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
“I only punished the one who killed her. I didn’t kill him no matter how much I wanted to. I don’t think she would’ve wanted that. Not her or my goddess,” You say with a deep sigh. “I used my magic and blinded him. Made an example out of him and reprimanded the rest of those fucking idiots.”
“And after?”
You clear your throat, but smile at him. Like you’re grateful he hasn’t recoiled from it.
“After, I buried her body in the soft earth, in the place where the moon shone most brightly - and mourned. Her death was so severe I couldn’t revive or heal her, I just buried…her. I thought about doing plenty of other shit. To kill, to chase, to defend - but ultimately, it felt more…meaningful just to… bury her.”
Wyll frowns, pausing. He squeezes your hand, eyes closed. Brows furrowed as he looks down.
“I’m sorry,”
You smile at him. Noticing the hand in yours finally, you even flush - though the moment passes quickly. Wyll stares at you in quiet, wondering if his eyes alone could tell you all he’s thinking. With you, his silver tongue is absent. His mouth is weighed too heavily with feelings sincere, with words meaningful.
Wyll cannot offer you cleverness or comfort where he wishes to offer you honesty.
“That night, the Moonmaiden had called to me. Just like today. It’s hard to explain what it feels like? Like a cool hand on feverish skin. It was a revelation for me. I had suddenly felt so empty. And, after some sobbing, I’d realized something,” You say whimsically, drawing circles into the back of Wyll’s hand.
“What did you realize?” He prompts.
“Our Lady of Silver believes in the carving and following of our own path. But, what had I done but what was told of me? All my life I’d spent in the temple, in the monastery - among people of my own faith and beliefs. In the moment in which I felt so much anger, I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. Not on purpose, but that was the truth. I swore myself too soon to duty rather than the convictions of my heart—I’d lacked real purpose.”
Wyll smiles at you, brightened by the gusto in which you speak. He’s endeared by you all too easily.
“And the convictions of your heart? Have you found them?” He asks, head tilted.
“Not all of them. But you know I figured out one thing. I want to make the world a less lonely place. Her death will never not bear weight on my mind, but her tiny hand thanking me for staying with her. That was something, I’m damn sure. Maybe all of it,”
He stares at you, speaking in quiet murmurs. You’re glowing, he thinks. You must be.
“It’s a noble thing to want. At least to me.”
“I’m glad you think so. My goddess has given me these divine powers, so my duty will always be to help people. But more than that - I want to guide the sick and afraid like the Moonmaiden guides me. I want to make it less difficult for people.”
“You’re awfully wise at times like this.”
“Wise?” You laugh lightly. “I’ve never heard that for me before. More used to hearing stuff like hard-headed, pack runt, cry baby. So on and so forth. But I’ll cherish it before you change your mind.”
“Do you feel fulfilled here? Becoming a hero of a city, saving so many people - surely that too aligns with your convictions”
“Asking an awful lot about me,” You tease finally. Wyll is hard-pressed to deny it. It’s so obvious. “But I do. I’d say managing to become Astarion’s friend is a high enough accomplishment with regards to you know, my convictions and all. It’s honestly like my life’s work. He even pets me now. Willingly!”
Wyll laughs loudly at the sudden excitement in your voice. You haven’t let go of his hand, he notices.
He hopes you don’t.
“Quite an impressive feat, certainly. But I am a little hurt. Does our bond not incite a similar sense of accomplishments and vigor in you?” He teases.
You pretend to consider it.
“The Blade of Frontiers, my most important companion.” You respond, with just as much cheekiness. “Calling it an accomplishment might be too egotistical.”
“What else do you suppose you’d call it?”
“Fate, maybe,” You say, though your voice is hardly above a murmur now. “Somehow, the fact we’ve met feels more like a very lucky chance, I reckon.”
“You feel so strongly about it?” Wyll says, more than asks. Because somehow it feels too much like a dream.
“Of course. I feel strongly about you in general,” You respond, and still don’t let go of his hand. You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I feel strongly about us. And all we’ve seen, together. I feel strongly that regardless of all the darkness, the moon waits for me and that I’m very lucky to have met you.”
Wyll feels his heart jump into his throat. Hardly a confession, yet his heart pounds. The longing is ceaseless.
In all the time you’ve spent together, Wyll has had all the time in the world to witness you. In your bravery and in your cowardice. At the best of yourself, and at the worst. Wyll has seen you lie when you’d rather be honest. He’s seen you cry countlessly for the deaths of people you’ve never known. He’s seen you tear through flesh and bone. He’s seen you as a furred creature laid on your back so Halsin would rub your stomach. He’s seen you as tenderly, achingly human.
Wyll has seen so much of you. And perhaps more than that - you have seen so much of him. Parts of himself even he has no access to. A passing comment of how dashing his horns look, a pat on the shoulder when you pass a father and son. You see Wyll even when he forgets to see himself.
Between you, there is no question that he is lucky. The luckiest man on Toril.
“You know, when everything is through. Not if, but when,” Wyll says slowly and carefully. “I want to remain by your side. Wherever that road leads. I want us to be together or travel together. Though I don’t know what that would look like,”
You give him a look of surprise, then a teasing smile - titling your head to one side.
“I might go somewhere you don’t want to follow, Ravengard. I’m a wanderer at heart.”
“Impossible. I’ve already followed you here, remember?” Wyll says with a smile, eyes meeting yours “As long as we’re together, no place is too dark nor too treacherous.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“There’d be no greater honor.”
__
When Myrkul falls, the world is silent.
For a first time, in a long time - the Shadowfell lands do not whisper the regrets of the dead. Instead, the remaining shadow swallowing the world begins to finally clear. In gradual steps, life returns to the land at Moonrise.
And this is in no small part thanks to you.
Though, Wyll watches you as you insist the glory is split between your party equally. You’re all heroes, and you couldn’t have done it without them by your side. Wyll knows you mean that.
It was you who took down the foes at Moonrise towers in slow increments, that planned and slaughtered until there was nothing left of it. It was you who destroyed the Thorms one by one. You who allowed Wyll to break Mizora’s pact. You who completed the gauntlet of Shar, who saved the Nightsong with your own two hands. That helped Astarion with the letters on his back, and that prevented Gale from using his orb - because you were so certain you all could win without it.
It was your touch and kindness that gave Shadowheart grace enough to throw away her Sharran roots, to throw away her past and embrace her own convictions just like you had promised to embrace yours.
The world has not been saved. The journey to the end has only become more perilous. But in the palm of your hand is the Netherstone of the fallen general - and an entire allegiance waiting to follow you into battle. The world has not been saved, and it is only bound to get more treacherous.
But for now, you’ve accomplished something great - and Wyll is proud to be alongside you for all of the rest, as you move onto things even greater.
For now, all of you remain at camp. A two day extended break before venturing towards the city. Among your camp now is the famed harper Jaehira and more importantly - Dame Aylin, the chosen of your goddess. And the cleric Isobel, her lover, of course.
Dame Aylin’s arrival at your camp has sparked plenty of interesting conversations. Revelations of Shadowheart’s identity aside (something you’ve been helping her through), Dame Aylin is not just a fellow Selunite - but the daughter of your beloved goddess. Not only have you just saved her life, you’ve freed her from thousands of years of torment.
Wyll doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so utterly awe-struck in your adventure together, even once. You’re a hard person to shake in many ways, and you’re excitable - but nearly never truly awestruck like the way you have been for the last two days.
Wyll is listening in on the interaction from afar, only taking small peeks at you as you, Shadowheart, Dame Aylin and Isobel crowd around in your tent. Your tail is swishing so helplessly behind you Wyll can’t help but laugh.
“God. You’ve been staring like a dumb puppy for two days now,” Shadowheart teases, rubbing your head with her hand “You’re going to catch flies with your jaw like that.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” You say, a little embarrassed. Wyll smiles to himself as he pretends to read, thankful to be in earshot “I’m sorry, I’m just… It was already nice meeting another Selunite but…I could live a thousand lives and not meet you Miss Aylin.”
“Your formality is misplaced. Aylin is just fine. We are comrades in all regards, both in our faith and in arms. I’m thankful you’ve given us a place to stay for the time being,”
“Camp welcomes all as policy. It helps to have allies and in lands like these, seems a little cruel to leave people to the wilds. Though soon that won’t be an issue,”
“You’ve accomplished something incredible,” Isobel praises. Wyll glances at you, a warmth settling in his chest at the surprise you seem to feel. “Lifting the curse from these lands, it was no small task.”
“It was all of our contribution! I’m just glad we’re a little bit closer to getting rid of these pests.” You lament with a dramatic sigh “And I’m excited to be in a place where I can feel the presence of the moon again.”
“It must be hard on you,” Isobel says sympathetically. You smile.
“I can hardly imagine,” Aylin adds, shaking her head. “There is perhaps some small blessing in the fact you’re gifted with control, but the effects that these lands must have on your body. May She ease your burden.”
Shadowheart gives you a look of confusion. “You know, you’ve mentioned this to me before - but I don’t actually know how it affects your conditions,” Her frown deepens. “A little hypocritical given how much you know about me at this point, I think.”
You look surprised then flattered. “It was never worth mentioning. My body has certain cycles that are affected by the moon. Similar to the tide. After 6 tendays, I go through something like.. a fever as a result of a full moon. Though I’ve been suppressing it with medication, my body at a certain point needs to expel it.”
“A fever?”
This catches Wyll’s attention. You’ve mentioned your condition in passing and always left the details vague (something Wyll is extra aware of given your love of being open in most everything) so this is the most he’s ever heard about it. He stops turning pages and tunes in completely.
“Sort of. The details aren’t important, really. I’ve gone through it for years, so I’m more than used to it. Especially on the road,” You explain, waving your hand. “Silver Lady bless me, I don’t think it’ll begin until we’re in the city at least. Near civilization and all.”
“Do you need anything from us?” Shadowheart probes with obv. Lately when it comes to you, she doesn’t bother feigning indifference.
“No, it’s okay. I’m used to it! I was going to mention it though soon, so I guess it’s a good thing it came up,” You lean back on your palms, legs crossed as you close your eyes. “I’ll be gone for about a tenday. I’ll leave my tent here and just pack some essentials and fuck off to the woods. Like I said, I’ve been doing it for years.”
Shadowhearts frown deepens, as does Wylls.
“That was then and this is now. You’re a rather wanted individual, will that be safe? A tenday of solo travel?”
You give Shadowheart a delighted look before tackling her with a hug. She almost topples over but manages to keep herself upright as you hug and nuzzle her. She doesn’t push you off in any case. You laugh warmly, resting your chin on her shoulder.
“You’re really worried about me? Little old me? Have you opened your heart to me after all?” You say through a giggle, earning a few laughs from Dame Aylin and Isobel. You finally pull away to look at her. “I promise I will be completely fine. My senses around that time are extremely heightened. I’m feverish but it’s very difficult to catch me off-guard enough for some kind of ambush. Worst case scenario, I shift and run away.”
Shadowheart does not seem comforted by this. Wyll feels the same, thankful she’s being so adamant about it.
“I don’t like those odds,” She says with her arms crossed. “Is there no one you can bring with you?”
When she says that, you turn to Wyll. Your eyes lock briefly. You look a little startled, but relax once you realize that it’s him. Wyll is a little startled too, embarrassed by his own staring. He can only hope you didn’t notice how obviously he was moments prior. You take a minute to consider him, your gaze raking over him. It’s a split second, barely noticeable - but afterwards you flush. It happens so quickly that Wyll wonders if he’s imagined the entire thing.
You laugh and Wyll swears it sounds nervous.
“I get a little…aggressive during that time.” You say dismissively. “It’s best to leave me to my own devices. I promise you I will be perfectly fine.”
“I don’t know how much I believe that, but I’ll try to put my faith in you. Don’t make me worry while these damn parasites are still in our heads.”
You throw your head back and laugh brilliantly.
“I’ll make it back to you in one piece,” You say, holding your pinky out. Shadowheart hooks her own into yours with a blush. “I promise on the Moonmaiden herself.”
Shadowheart sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. Your smile grows ten sizes.
“You better.”
__
The journey, of course, does not get any easier.
You’ve barely made it to Rivington. Barely. Not only have you had to fight off a camp of hateful githyanki and earned the ire of an alien goddess - you’ve just found out the person protecting you is a mindflayer.
After a tremendous amount of difficult information launched at the lot of you, you’ve managed to regain your bearings (some kind of miracle, Wyll thinks). You’ve made it to Rivington. Finally.
Hells. What a troublesome situation.
You’ve been in Rivington for a few days now, though you haven’t made it far. After being at the circus and a somewhat harrowing fight with a shapeshifting clown, you decide to put up for the night. Before nightfall, you announced to everyone at camp that you’d be disappearing for your supposed fever. You can feel it coming on, and by the time it starts - traveling will be difficult.
Everyone has had their own way of fussing over you. Gale has given you some scrolls of his own curation. Astarion silently handed you one of his favorite daggers and a pack of expensive arrows. Lae’zel has given you some potions, testing your reflexes with you before your disappearance. Shadowheart gives you as many healing potions as she can, and her blessing with the help of Dame Aylin. Karlach has little to offer you in terms of things, instead knocking your heads together and telling you to scream as loud as you can if anything happens - and she’ll come running no matter what happens. Halsin has dried some food for you ahead of time, ever the planning kind.
Wyll only gives you a long look of concern. Most of the conversation between you is had with eyes, a soft glance meeting a concerned one. With Wyll, you hold his hand and assure him that you’ll be fine - and to take care of them in your short absence. You hug him extra tight before you leave.Wyll is forced to let you disappear.
It’s really not like Wyll to be so invasive on another person's business. He knows he can be a busybody when it comes to helping someone but for the most part - he’ll respect a person's wishes. If someone doesn’t want intervention, it’s not Wyll’s place to force it on them. He's learned from experience that sometimes it makes the situation worse.
But shit, the worry has been eating Wyll alive. He could hardly sit still in the brief two hours you had disappeared. The rest of the party have regrouped in your absence. Gale, Astarion, Shadowheart and Lae’zel - while Karlach and Wyll planned to stay behind. Wyll had wanted to go but Astarion wouldn’t allow him. Said his pining would get in the way of everything. He’s off his game, and it’s best to wait till you return.
It’s getting closer to evening, the sun beginning to set. Wyll just can’t sit still. There’s no way a tenday is going to pass like this without Wyll effectively losing his mind.
Just as the sky begins to be painted orange, Wyll troubles Shadowheart in the middle of her meditations.
One of her eyes opens as she breaks her concentration, an amused smile showing on her face.
“That was quick,” She says first, looking up at Wyll from where she’s kneeled. “I thought you’d wait at least a day,”
“Pardon?”
Shadowheart laughs. “Oh, to chase them down I mean. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but this is a little fast even for you, Ravengard.”
Wyll doesn’t know how to feel about that.
“My apologies for being predictable,” Wyll says with a sigh. “But since you were anticipating it, I have to ask if you know anything. Where they’d be. Anything.”
“This is exactly why they didn’t tell you, you know? Not that I’m not worried about them too,” Shadowheart says with a sigh. “But they were clear. They need a tenday alone.”
Wyll looks at her. “I’ve never been like this before, either. I don’t understand it, but I haven’t been able to take my mind off it despite my efforts. Regardless of what you tell me, it seems like I’m going to follow them,”
“Oh, please,” Shadowheart says, standing up and dusting herself off as she looks at him directly “You don’t know why? Don’t you think it’s time to be a little more honest with yourself, Wyll? I mean really.”
Wyll widens his eyes, a little taken aback by it. He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. He scrunches his brow a bit, unsure of what to say to defend himself.
“Well, I am aware of why, I suppose. But it’s,” He fumbles in the process of trying to say anything sensible. “It’s new.. I didn’t think I was this sort of person. Something along those lines. It’s not that I don’t have confidence in them, but this isn’t something they need to endure alone.”
“Not when you’re there for them, I’m guessing,”
Wyll smiles a little sheepishly. “Yes. I respect their privacy. I’ll turn back if they ask me too,”
“Oh, don’t worry, that was easy enough to figure out.” Shadowheart teases. Wyll covers his face. Is he a schoolboy, being teased about his crush like this? How ridiculous. “At least you know.”
He sighs.
“Will you at least tell me what you know?”
“I’m still thinking about it.” Shadowheart says thoughtfully. She makes an exaggerated gesture of contemplating the situation before shrugging. “Hm. You know, I’ve entered a totally new chapter of my life - so, out of the kindness of my heart I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Thank you.” Wyll says truly grateful. Shadowheart gives him what Wyll thinks of as a semi-fond smile. He hopes this means she approves of whatever is going on. You two are close as ever, so it does matter to Wyll how she feels about it.
“They were rather vague about the situation,” Shadowheart says honestly. “But they did tell me the direction they were going to travel. There’ll be marks in the trees so they can make their way back if something happens. If you can find where they started, it should be easy enough to find where they end up. That’s all I know. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Shadowheart.”
“Oh and, go pack some things of your own before you go. Just in case you end up staying.”
“Right. I’ll do that now.”
“I’ll let everyone know so leave as soon as you can.”
“It looks like I'll be owing you quite a few favors.” Wyll offers. Shadowheart smiles.
“Of course. Nothing in life is free. But go, shoo. You should go before it gets too dark.”
Wyll gives her one last look of gratitude before hurrying to prepare a pack.
__
Wyll barely makes it before the darkness settles in.
There’s enough moonlight to guide him through the tricky paths of the forest. Let the record show, Wyll has no idea how you’ve navigated through here. Like Shadowheart had promised him - the trees began to be marked once Wyll found your paw prints on the ground. On each tree was a the slashing of a sharp dagger.
Despite the clear path you laid out, the terrain is utterly unforgiving for the longest time. Had the signs of you not been in front of him, Wyll would’ve given up on the affair. This is saying something, because his time as the Blade of Frontiers was far from a life of luxury.
It’s difficult but the promise of Wyll’s good eye laying its gaze on you is enough to push him through to the end of the journey.
Eventually, eventually - the path clears. The trees start to become sparse and the area starts to flatten to something walkable. The dirt hardens underneath his feet and his muscles no longer drag.
Before Wyll lays eyes on you, he hears you.
There’s a campfire, and the shelter of a borrowed tent. You’ve laid out plenty of old rags and bedsheets - layers and layers of dusty fabric and old pillows giving you a cushion from where you’re curled up on a tree.
Before Wyll can see you in the faint glow of fire, the only thing his mind can pay attention to is the sound of your voice.
A pained whimper, so loud and high pitched - Wyll is shocked he didn’t hear it some distance ago. You’re practically shaking, short snarls and desperate yowls between hard pants.You sound like you’re suffering something grave. It’s nothing he’s ever heard in your time together, despite the horrific injuries you’ve endured. Even at near death, Wyll has never heard more than labored breathing and groans.
It’s pure distress, so broken it rings in his ears. His concern grows ten sizes.
He decides then that no matter what you tell him, he won’t be able to go back to camp to leave you alone.
He fights the urge with his body to run towards you, remembering the state you’re in. Prone to aggression and high-alert, Wyll forces himself to approach you slowly.
As soon as he’s within range of you, your entire body lurches forward to sit up. Your eyes open, wide and nearly feral - searching erratically. Wyll pauses, no longer in a soft crouch. He stands to full attention. When you finally look at him, your chest shakes with an exhale. You lean back against the tree behind you where you’re curled, shaking.
“Fuck,” You cover your nose first, pressing your arm against it as you curl away from him instinctively. Wyll feels a mix of guilt and worry. “Fuck, what in the Hells are you doing here? Was it Shadowheart? Even—even though I told her,”
He moves in just a step closer. “I asked her. But I intended to find you even if you didn’t tell me. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen,”
“Shit, don’t get any closer. I-I’m already, shit,” You hold up a hand, though your entire body is fragile. Weak, even from this distance. “Don’t move. You,” Another labored breath “Go back.”
Wyll stills, but doesn’t budge. His frown deepens. “You don’t have to endure this alone,” He steps closer. “I’m here for you,”
“It’s not about—fuck,” You curl into yourself, turning your face away from him. “It’s n-not about that. Not personal. You need to get out of here, Wyll, please. Please listen to me and, and go.”
Wyll wants to ask how he could leave you in this condition, but the desperation in your voice stops him. He feels uncertain, but his body - his mind, won’t listen to him.
“Tell me what’s happening to you,” Wyll pleads. He wants to run to you. He hates seeing you in this much pain. He wants to hold you, his heart is practically pounding. “Are you in pain?”
Your expression strains, but you force your gaze towards him. Your eyes are wide. They shine with water and wetness, your tearstained expression landing on his face.
“Fuck, Wyll, you - I’m in heat. So d-don’t come any closer. Go, go—please, I’m begging.”
Heat. Wyll knows little about the cycles of werewolves. But he knows about wolves, and other animals at least. Heat. A period of heightened sexual reception during mating season. Wyll pauses, then blinks. His stomach drops, heart quickening.
Shit. Shit.
“You’re in…heat.”
“Y-yes. And it lasts for a tenday, so you need to listen to me and get out of here. Now.”
Wyll doesn’t move.
“Would,” Wyll swallows the thick feeling in his throat. “If someone else had come. Would you have,”
He hardly knows what he’s asking. But it seems you do, because you open your eyes - in utter distress and shake your head.
“No,” You shake your head and hold your breath, trying to calm yourself as you breathe. You focus on breathing only out of your mouth. “Just you.” You close your eyes again and continue to tremble. “Please. Please go, Wyll.”
He comes closer. Your voice croaks as you try to shout at him, though the words are too faint to be called that. Nonthreatening and utterly desperate.
“No, no, no—please,” Your words become a sob, and Wyll feels his heart start to crack a little. “You don’t understand. It h-hurts. If you get too close, if you—”
“What is it?” He gets close enough to be within real range of you. There’s only a few feet of distance between you. Wyll kneels so he’s not looming over you, looking over you with concern. “What’s wrong?”
You shake and shake and shake, closing your eyes - tearing your gaze away from him. Your lower lips waver, both hands covering your face as you cry.
“Your s-scent,” You heave, trying to push back against the tree. “It’ll make me want to t-touch you. And I can’t. I can’t and—I want too. So badly, you’re so close, please stay away. It’s cruel, so cruel to me,”
Wyll feels his own voice almost give out. Seeing you like this. So desperate. Needy. The guilt is outweighed by another feeling he chooses not to name.
“You can touch me,” He assures.
You sob.
“Not just touch. Wyll, please, go.”
“Hells,” He comes closer towards you and you flinch. “I’m not so clueless. I know what you meant. It’s alright.”
Your eyes flicker open in disbelief.
“You,” You look at him through teary eyes. “I-it’s important to you to... With someone you love. Not like this.”
“Gods, who else but you? I love you,” Wyll says with his own voice nearly shot. Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Of course I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”
“Wyll,” You sob for a different reason this time. “I love you. I w-want you, I want you.”
“Tell me. Can I touch you?”
“Please,” You’re so tender like this. Wyll has never seen it in his life. It’d be unimaginable, had he not witnessed.
Strong and capable and brave and rowdy - reduced to a fragile, pleading mess.
Wyll doesn’t know how to touch you. If he were more honest with himself in the moment - more sensible, he’d admit this to you in a quiet secret. He doesn’t have room for doubt now, so Wyll is gentle when he reaches for you. He pulls your wrists from where they’re glued to you, unfurls your form slowly and looks closely at your face. He guides your hands around his neck and brings you towards him. With slow, careful maneuvering - he sits down with you.
Holding you in his embrace, he brings you into his lap - sitting where you once were. Until you’re over his own, resting your full weight against his. Your knees rest on either side of his thighs, straddling him. You look at Wyll from above, your lower lip still quivering.
“It’s alright,” He says, hands on your waist but not moving “Take what you need,”
With a wordless whimper, you grab the fabric of Wyll’s clothing, light armor that he changed into before leaving - tight enough he can feel the tension in fabric. You lean in, your eyes shut tightly and press your nose along the side of his neck. Wyll can feel you bump against this jaw. He tilts his head back to give you more access to him. His body is hot with your sudden proximity, your own skin completely feverish from need. You inhale, so deeply and so wantonly Wyll doesn’t know what else to do other than sit and let you.
The thought passes. Like a mutt. Like a puppy. You breathe Wyll in like it’s the only thing keeping you alive, grinding instinctively on his lap. Something that he overlooks for the sake of being the sane one between you.
“You,” Your voice has calmed down a fair bit, though it's just as thick as it was before. “Shit, it’s so good.”
Your grip on his clothes tighten. Wyll rubs a soothing hand on your waist, still over your clothes. You continue it, taking deep breaths of him like a life-line until your grip starts to loosen. You’re no longer shaking at least. You pull away from him with wet pleading eyes, butting your forehead with his. Wyll winces, but bites back a smile at you once he realizes you’re a tad bit more sobered up.
“What in the hells are you doing here?” You interrogate.
“Are you alright?” Wyll says, ignoring your first question. “Has it gone down?”
“It comes in waves. The first wave has passed, but the second one will hit soon enough. Five minutes if I had to guess,” You say, shaking your head. You fix your gaze on him. Wyll suddenly becomes aware of your proximity (or lack thereof). “Why are you here, Wyll?”
“Why? A better question is how could I not be here?” Wyll says carefully, examining your every expression. “An ominous sickness, traveling alone for an entire tenday when we’ve all spent our entire journey together. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but I couldn’t sit back quietly while I was so worried for your safety.”
“Like I told you and everyone else, I’m fine. I’ve been handling heats alone since I started puberty. It’s not a very pretty sight,” You pout shyly. Wyll finds it utterly adorable. “And well, it’s not like I can announce to everyone I’m in literal heat. Fever is easier.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve invaded your privacy. If I had known,” He clears his throat, looking away from you “If I had known it was something like this, I would’ve approached it more delicately.”
“My brain is too heat-addled to be properly embarrassed, which is lucky - because I’m definitely going to be pissed when this is over.” You say, clutching the front of his shirt again. “Everything is all out of order now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re the one going on about keeping things old school, you know.”
“Well yes. But it’s not for any reason so rigid,” Wyll reaches his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing underneath your eyes. “These sorts of affairs are more enchanting when the love is there. That’s the part that matters.”
“You’re not disappointed that the first time we’re touching each other is because I’m this desperate to touch you?”
“I just like being able to hold you. For any reason at all,” Wyll says honestly, then adds. “And well, if I were to be frank, seeing you in this state is… rousing. In its own right.”
You flush, and mumble. “Pervert.”
He forgives the comment just as you’ve forgiven him for his intrusion. He looks at you tenderly, heart swelling so much it’s almost overflowing.
“Will you allow me to stay by your side?”
“This goes on for a tenday. And it doesn’t get any easier. Do you really know what you’re asking? Do you have that kind of stamina?”
Wyll smiles at you. He wants to kiss you.
“Around something as enticing as you, stamina should pose no issue.” He flirts.
“Gods, Wyll - where’d you learn to talk like that?”
He smiles cheekily. “Esoteric erotica novels from my fathers chambers, mostly. Overhearing things at Sharesses Caress helped too.”
You giggle a little bit. This time you’re the one leaning into him.
“The waves will get longer and more intense. They peak around the fourth day and begin to mellow out at the start of the fifth,” You give him a look before looking away, profusely embarrassed. “Uhm. The only thing that soothes it is, well, you know. I mean I get really… I cry a lot.”
Wyll doesn’t communicate to you the fact he knows. He did just see after all, and it’s not like he particularly enjoys seeing you suffer. He’s not that sort of man, but. He likes taking care of you, in all aspects. You’ve had to take care of yourself for so long. It feels good that he’s allowed into something that you’ve kept private all this time.
It’s fair if he’s a little cocky about it, he thinks.
“You can show me everything about yourself and I won’t turn my gaze away from you. Nothing could make me look away,”
You pout again. Wyll notices you do it when you’re feeling especially embarrassed. He opts not to say anything, just smiles.
You take a deep, shaky breath. “It’s going to start again soon. Everything is fine with me, just—stay close. Close enough that I can tuck into you.”
“Something to do with my scent, I suppose? I am curious to know what.”
“Well I like you. And it’s comforting. But it turns me on, too. Especially like this.”
“And that’s why you were pushing me away earlier?”
You nod, taking a deep breath. Your voice regains that sweet, thick quality that Wyll is beginning to recognize as desire.
“Mm. I’m a lot stronger than you a-and my heads not very clear,” You shake your head as you explain this to him. “It would’ve..haah..been painful. Really.”
“So it has that kind of effect on you,” Wyll concludes. Your eyes are lidded. You’re overwhelmed. It’s an interesting position. As far as Wyll’s concerned, he probably only smells like forest right now. He looks at the way you’re shaking like a leaf, then continues “I have that kind of effect on you,”
“Yes,” You huff, leaning against him again. Your head on his shoulder, nose brushing against his skin. He’s sweating from the journey up. He can’t really wrap his mind around what it could be that you like so much about him or how he smells. “Fuck, yes - you do.”
It’s an odd position to be in. Wyll is a righteous man but the thoughts that swarm him now are anything but. There’s nothing foreign about being wanted. His time as the Blade of Frontiers has had him propositioned for such affairs more times than he can remember.
No ones ever been desperate for him, though. You’ve never been desperate about anything. You’re emotional and light-hearted and wise and kind. Not desperate. Never that.
Except right now, you’re looking up at him with your pupils blown wide and your lower lip shaking. There’s sweat dripping down the crown of your head. Your ears are perked up, your whole body tense with need. You’re practically intoxicated above him, and Wyll can’t help but feel something less than heroic about it.
“I’m hardly half the man I claim to be,” Wyll says, a little dazed. “You make me forget myself. My virtue.”
“What’s virtue to love, Ravengard?” You lean in closer to him, your noses brushing. It must be coming again, the next wave. “You’re just Wyll to me, remember? Not a paragon of decency.” Your face is close. Your lips are close. Tempting. “Touch me. Or make love to me, if you’d prefer to call it that.”
It feels like there’s no air in Wyll’s lungs. Not enough to take a breath. He cups the nape of your neck with his hand, and your skin is so hot it nearly burns. You’re feverish, and sweaty - when Wyll touches you, you react right away. He stares at you. Everything feels distant, far-away. How many times have the two of you been like this? How many times have you nearly crossed this threshold before retreating back into each other?
Wyll can think of one hundred times he’s thought of kissing you. When you’re covered in blood and gore, when you smile, when the sun through the trees makes your fur look shiny and beautiful, when Astarion pets you, when you hug Karlach for the first time. He can compile every time the urge has come over him.
It feels unreal to kiss you now, after all that.
You open your mouth slightly, a choked moan passing through your lips as Wyll presses his own to yours. Yours are soft. The first thing he notices is the shape of your teeth, the sharp edge of your fangs - protruding and clumsy. None of it matters. Nothing matters except you and this.
You’re huffy and eager when Wyll kisses you. A slow peck at first before he pulls away, delighted by the way you chase his mouth. Then again with your mouth open a little wider, panting hotly as you urge Wyll to give you a little more. Your hands are gripping his armor again, tight enough to rip the material. You’re too drunk on your own need, to notice anything about anything.
It’s something about you - something about you Wyll has known since forever. You get lost in things, in fights or in books that Gale reads. Sometimes you just give up thinking entirely and let your instinct guide you. And it makes enough sense, you’re a werewolf - part hungry animal by blood. Of course your baser instinct feels more natural.
It’s not very kind to think, but Wyll isn’t saying it to be unkind. He likes it. He likes that you think with your heart less than your head. He likes when you give into the most animal parts of you.
Wyll is not in the same place as you. His head is meant to be clear. He’s seemingly sober for this affair.
But his body betrays his mind so quickly it’s laughable.
He doesn’t really know what to do with himself. All of the blood in his body is running hot, and all of it floods south more quickly than he can control it. Before he knows what he’s doing, his hands are clasping around your waist and he’s kissing you deeper. He lets his tongue brush yours, lets his teeth sink into the plush of your lower lips. He sucks and bites and licks as you breathe each other in.
You kiss Wyll until your lips are swollen, chest heaving as you pull away from each other. There’s something juvenile about the affair, enough to make you laugh even in the state you’re in. And Wyll laughs too, stares at your expression only illuminated by moonlight.
“I love you,” Wyll repeats. You’re startled by it this time. “Gods, I love you.”
Your voice is thick. “I love you too. Touch me, please.”
“How should I touch you my love?”
“However you want. As long as you touch me.”
“However I want,” Wyll says contemplatively. He’s quick to maneuver you both to the ground when he says this. A little closer to the warmth of the fire, on the sheets and pillows you’ve set up underneath you both. You look up at him wide-eyed as your back touches the ground. “You should choose your words carefully. I may take you up on making love.”
You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down to you.
“Do it before I lose my mind anymore,”
Wyll laughs playfully against your skin.
The act of undressing each other is unceremonious. Wyll peels the padded armor off his body, leaving him in trousers. He helps you out of your own clothes. He’s seen you naked more than once, but never for this. For him. He studies the way your muscles fall, the hair on your skin. Various scars. Everything for him to gaze on.
Your own hand reaches up to his neck, on his shoulder as your mouth falls open. “You’re so attractive. Do you know?”
He laughs. “It doesn’t hurt to hear you tell me.”
You seem eager to admire his body. Wyll doesn’t stop you. Your palms are much smoother than he’d think of them to be, as they plane over the expanse of his muscled chest. You let your fingers drift over raised scars on abdomen, over his nipples and down his abdomen. Wyll feels his cock twitch unhelpfully. You must notice the same because your eyes light up. Your hand reaches even further, even lower - cupping the hard outline of his length. He hisses through his teeth.
“You’re…” You mumble, squeezing again. “For me,”
“You’re beautiful,” Wyll says. You flush.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Your voice is almost petulant.
“And I’ve longed for you since that very moment”
Your pout deepens before you brush Wyll’s hand with yours.
“You can do the same for me.”
Wyll stares at you before leaning back down to kiss you. He doesn’t linger at your mouth, chaste pecks that pave the path for Wyll to worship the rest of you. He wants to worship every inch. He lets his lips leave kisses all over your face. He kisses the scars along your skin, the corner of your mouth, your eyelids.
His tongue laves down your jaw until he’s at your neck. You breathe unsteadily as he continues down to the column of your throat. Wyll is gentle. He doesn’t bite. He steadies his hands at your waist and only kisses. Presses his face to your skin and pricks you with his want. It’s slower than you want, he can tell from how your legs are wrapped helplessly around his waist.
Your lower-half is grinding against him, against air - anything you can find. Little shameless mewls and so much squirming. Wyll knows you’re needy, and he is too - but this is your first time together.
He couldn’t do anything but savor it no matter how much you whined. Right now you are his, hidden from the moon. From the camp.
You are his and he will take you apart as he pleases.
“Please,” You whine, taking a deep breath of him again. You inhale, nudging the parts of him available to him. “Please.”
A little mercifully, he gives you a little more. He grabs your hips and positions you better over his cock. He moves his hands from your waist to squeeze the soft flesh of your breasts. He licks the salt of your skin, meeting your movements.
“I know, I know. Endure it,” He says, pressing a kiss to your sternum. “Indulge me.”
You bite back your complaint. You’re forgiving as always.
His mouth closes around your nipples, hard under his tongue. Your spine arches, but Wyll pushes you down and steadies you. His other hand squeezes the one he isn’t servicing, thumb drawing over your nipples. He gauges your breathing as he tries different motions until settling on rolling it with his thumb. The right thing to do, if your reaction is anything to go by.
He feels something against the seam of his pants when he goes between them, pleasuring you. A wetness where his cock meets your clothed sex. One that soaks underneath two layers of clothes. He looks up at you, wide-eyed.
You’re unaware of anything. Too busy in the chase of pleasure.
He wonders if it’s a result of your heat. He doesn’t know anything about them aside from the fact it happens and it makes you like this - but what it does to your body is still foreign to him. His cock is throbbing hard enough to make him light-headed. He tries to approach this with a light hand and patience.
But shit, the way you’re searching for it is too arousing. You’re seeking an orgasm so desperately, all little rutting twitches and uneven movements. The first of the tears start to form on your lower lashes. Your eyelashes are wet. Fat tears drip down your cheeks, falling down the side of your face. Wyll is less concerned than you would be if you hadn’t told him that you would cry - but gods.
“You’re a mess,” He says with an absent fondness. You whine and nod in agreement. Wyll is lucky to witness this, he realizes too late. “Is it painful?”
Your voice is scratchy from crying. “Aches. Aches so much, need more, please. Trying to be patient but it aches.”
He hums to himself, undoes the death grip your legs have on his waist before starting to kiss a path down to your navel. It’s clear you make an attempt to ask him what he’s doing, but the words cut off when you realize he’s getting closer to where you need.
You’re holding your breath, your hands curled at your sides like you don’t know what to do with them. You’ve never been so uncertain in front of him. You help slide your bottoms off - everything in one go. Your knees are bent in the air, covering where Wyll is most keen to see you. He kisses your calves.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, remember?”
You take a deep breath and lay your feet flat on the ground, spreading your legs enough to give Wyll a perfect view. He’s always tried not to look, but now he can’t stop staring. A thick layer of hair covers your cunt. His hands shake as he pulls you forward to look closer, and your own hands go to cover your face.
“I can feel you breathe,” You whisper, and Wyll laughs. He’s still looking, examining you closely. He uses his fingers to pull you apart, awestruck by you. You’re so wet it’s dripping, pulsing helplessly without Wyll touching you at all. The sheet underneath you darkens with arousal. Your clit is throbbing with need, all fluttery. “Stop looking,”
Wyll does what any gentleman would do. He pulls away, his hands settling on your thighs - and starts to kiss all the way up from the inside of your knee. He does it on both sides, before finally kissing your clit tucked away underneath everything. Your breath hitches, stomach tensing.
“Tell me where you feel it. Let me learn you.”
“Hicc,” You nod soft and sweet. “Okay,”
Wyll smiles against you.
For as much as Wyll puts on a show, the first time he actually tastes you exceed all expectations. The loss of composure is nearly instant. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he lets the weight of his tongue drag through your folds, arousal collecting on the tip. Your reaction comes just as quick.
“Fuck,” You cry out. Wyll feels your hands reach for him, a pleasant noise escaping him as you grip onto his horns. He’s never thought to touch them before. A feeling of electricity creeps up his back as your hands hold tight around the base of them.“Wyll, fuck - there,”
He gets the message quick enough, laying his tongue flat on the hardened bundle of nerves. Your clit pulses for him. You taste heady and sweet, coating his entire mouth as he continues to eat. You guide him here and there - soft whispers of lower and higher until he ends up in the place you need.
“That,” Your grip on his horns gets tighter as you grind yourself down on his tongue. Wyll feels his cock stiff against his stomach from where he lays. “Like that,”
He gives you more pressure as he licks your clit, sorting out a rhythm as he focuses his attention on one part of you. He wants to make you cum like this. You’re sensitive enough to do it. Your clit thrums as your mind goes muddy. Your body movements change as he continues to push you closer and closer to your high. He’s starting to understand what makes you tick.
Wyll is a quick learner after all, dexterous and clever.
Muscles clenching, your mouth falls open - eyes barely open as you moan. “Oh, oh, oh,”
Wyll laps you up like ambrosia. He pulls away when you start to get close, ignoring your complaints. He wants to savor it now that he knows how to get you to the edge, so he does. He buries himself deeper into you, his nose bumping against your mound with every pass he makes over your slit. Your body is unbelievably sensitive. He dips his tongue into your tight hole and you nearly lurch forward with need.
He starts a back and forth, going from licking long stripes along your slit determined not to let anything go to waste - back to focusing on where you need him most. He doesn’t mean to put you on edge so many times, no longer thinking clearly.
You beg Wyll to make you cum by the time he’s back to reality, grabbing his horns hard enough to make him look at you.
“Make me cum, please - can’t take it anymore, Wyll, please, fuck,”
He hums against your sex before refocusing his attention. One last time he takes your throbbing clit into his mouth, lets it slide against his tongue and sucks on it. This time he relents to your need, and doesn't stop for any reason. He lets it build and build and build until he hears your voice break.
Your back starts to arch, body going taut like a bowstring. Wyll hums against you, he wants to praise you but his mouth is busy.
Then the thought occurs to him. It takes a little focus to reach your mind, and this is by all means - a terrible reason to use your shared connection.
‘You’re doing so well, starlight,’ Wyll praises. Your eyes widen as you realize just how he’s doing it, a debauched and shocked moan tearing itself from your mouth ‘Beautiful. Sorry for teasing you. Can you cum for me? I want you to feel good,’
You hiccup, another loud sob as Wyll keeps steady.
“C-cumming,” You choke on the words, on your spit. “I’m—fuck!”
Wyll lets you ride your orgasm out as you cum for the first time in the night. Your body goes arching, gripping on his horns hard trying to pull him away as you push through to the other side. You’re pulsing in his mouth, tightening around nothing as you cum for him. It feels like it goes on forever, long waves and tremors until the feeling dies down.
He pulls away once you’ve finally laid back down, exhausted and out of breath. You stare at him a little blankly, an arm covering your face.
“Up here,” You say tiredly, gesturing him up. “I need to kiss you.”
Wyll laughs good naturedly as you wrap an arm around Wyll’s neck, dragging him down towards you and kissing him hard - drunk off pleasure. You kiss him in chaste pecks, hugging him. Nudging your nose along his neck, you whisper in his ear.
“Take your pants off, dammit.”
Wyll can’t help his laughter.
“I suppose it’s only fair,”
You hook your fingers into Wyll’s trousers, helping him pull them down until his cock springs free. Your eyes go lidded as soon as you see it, hands cupping the now bare skin. Wyll hisses slightly at the sudden touch, unused to the friction. You look up at him, a hand between your bodies - closing your fist around the base of his cock.
“Bumps and prongs, huh,”
Wyll flushes immediately, making you laugh.
“I hope you’re not making fun of me.”
“How could I when I’m this turned on?” You offer sincerely. He shudders at the touch. “I like it. Can I blow you?”
“I’m sorry?”
Your turn to laugh. “I’m good at it. And I want to. It’s a little sensitive for you to fuck me, anyway.”
Wyll swallows thickly. “I guess I have no reason to deny you.”
“No you don’t. Now come on and stand up,”
He gives you a hesitant look before peeling himself off of you. He stands to his feet, his pants still rolled down just past his thighs. He slides them off so the two of you are naked, and laments a little in his mind about the fact you’re doing this deep in the outdoors. You’re quick to follow Wyll, walking on your knees towards him until you’re eye-level with his cock.
He’s never gotten this far. He’s a romantic in all the ways it matters, so save for some grinding and kissing - it’s a new experience. You look like you know what you’re doing though. You kiss his hips, hands on his thighs and an expression that he finds remarkably innocent for what you’re about to do. All Wyll can do is watch, and feel increasingly fidgety about the sight in front of him.
You crane your head down and place pecks from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip. You let his cock rest against your face, taking a sharp inhale of the skin - perverse and desperate. Wyll groans, deep from his chest as you smile. You’re not unsettled by it at all, as reverent as you always are.
His body has grown especially sensitive because of Mizora’s interference. He can feel the heat in his blood starting to swell as blood rushes to his cock, making him grow bigger. The way you’re looking at him isn’t helping.
You poke your tongue out from your mouth and leave long licks along his cock - from base to tip. Like you sense he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, you guide them to hold your head. He feels a weird sense of guilt about it, but the pleasure outweighs the shame - he doesn’t force you down. Just keeps you painfully steady as you do all of the world.
Fuck, he’s sensitive. Every little wet lick and stroke is enough to make his spine prick with need. The tip of his cock leaks pre-cum. You press it against your lips as your hand wraps around his shaft in full, your tongue dipping into the slit making Wyll hiss.
“Shit,” He huffs, hands gripping tighter but not moving you “That feels good,”
You give him a little smile that makes Wyll’s stomach flip. Like you know it’s going to catch him off guard, you finally open your mouth to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. It’s lighter and more sensitive than the rest of his cock. You wrap your tongue around it with expertise and Wyll finds himself nearly bedding on the knee, legs starting to feel weak.
You use one hand to steady yourself on his thigh, the other slipping between your legs.
He can only watch on in awe, the impressive way you sink around the hot, hard length. Your tongue is soft, the cavern of your mouth wet and inviting. Wyll nearly breaks - almost fucks into your throat by bucking up. He restrains himself as you go lower and lower, eyes going increasingly wide as his cock disappears in the column of your throat. Just when he thinks you can’t get any further, you do. He can feel the tip disappear in the narrowness of your throat, awestruck as drool starts to drip from the sides of your mouth.
You make a sound, muffled as you hit the base of Wyll’s cock like it’s nothing. You sink in further, nose pressing against his navel as you glance up at him. It’s too lewd, damn near - seeing you deepthroat him with such ease. You inhale again, and Wyll flushes at the realization of what you’re doing exactly.
You pull off in one go, saliva dripping down your chin and neck as you open your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks and wrapping a free hand around whatever your mouth can’t easily reach, you start to set a pace. It’s fast and slick and messy, pre-cum mixed with saliva making your face grow sticky - taking deep breaths of Wyll’s scent and musk every time you manage to swallow it all. It’s depraved seeing you suck his cock with such obvious lust and desire, eager to swallow him and show him pleasure.
Wyll feels the pleasure. His entire body feels like it’s being wrapped in something slick and warm, little sparks of electricity traveling from his fingertips to his spine. His head feels especially light, filled with fluff and devoid of conscious consideration.
“Your mouth feels incredible,” Wyll groans, shuddering, holding your head as you let his cock bottom out in your mouth again “Hells,”
You sound pleased, a pleasant reverb going through his body as you set a pace - bobbing your head and swallowing every inch of him without flinching. The sound of your throat constricting around him and your own hands fill the surroundings. He’s glad you’re so lost in the movements because his own voice is punched out of him each time you go down. He didn’t know he was capable of making this much noise, such deep groans and heavy breaths every time you so much as move.
You pull him out completely, letting spit and saliva rub against your mouth as you tap against your face. Wyll feels a restless embarrassment at the pit of his stomach as you make eye-contact with him. He feels his cock twitch hard, something starting to come undone in his gut as he pulls you away.
“Stop,” He wheezes, and you do with a pleased laugh “Shit that’s dangerous. You’re…talented.”
You pause before breaking out into more giggles, kissing his cock one last time. Wyll covers his face with his hands.
“Is that a compliment?”
“...It’s meant to be one.”
“Glad you’re impressed,” You say with a wicked little grin - all sharp teeth and delight. “I wanted to go longer.”
“We have days together. Another time, my love.”
Your smile grows a little. You are bad for his heart in more ways than one, Wyll thinks.
“Mm. Okay. I can’t really wait much longer, anyway. Another wave is gonna hit soon and I feel antsy.”
“Get comfortable and lay down. And, I hate to ask so late - but should I be worrying…? About protection?”
You blink at him as you set up on the ground, moving around pillows for you to lay on. You shake your head. “Mm. Should be fine. Getting contraceptives should be easier since we’re closer to the city. Unless you don’t want to take that risk?”
Your expression is uncharacteristically innocent. Wyll weighs his desire against reason, a feeling of guilt washing over him at the clear winner. His cock is throbbing to the extent it’s near painful.
(He doesn’t hate the thought of giving you a child, either. Though he thinks it’s much too early to say something like that, and he’d prefer to plan something so important. Still, it isn’t the worst outcome. It’d be a precious little thing, half-werewolf and beautiful.
He brushes over the thought just as quickly as he has it, a little taken aback by his own desires. It’s like everything is being bled from him, no thought too precious to strike his mind. It’s too early to think about, no less mention.
He should marry you before that. The thought of it makes him harder.)
“As I had suspected, I’m only half the man I consider myself to be.”
“Are you reflecting on your failings?” You tease. Wyll lets out a breath of air.
“On my hypocrisy, if I were to put a name to it. I didn’t realize desire could be so debilitating.” Wyll explains, joining you where you lay. You giggle lightly as Wyll positions himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you shortly. “Seems you’ve uncovered something I wasn’t aware of.”
“Really?”
Wyll laughs against your lips as he kisses you again. “You often do.”
He brushes it aside as he pulls back. You lock eyes with him. Wyll is mesmerized. Your features start to round out again, eyes becoming glassy with need in the same familiar way as before. Wyll knows it now. He reaches over to cup your face with his palm, smile breaking his composure as you instinctively rub your cheek against the rough skin. He lets his thumb press against your lips, indulging your desire for affection.
“Are you still all there?”
“Hf. Yes. Not for long,” You say, urging him down towards you. Once again the proximity between you disappears. This time bare skinned, chest to chest. Wyll can feel the erratic thump of your heart, the unsteady quality in your breathing. You sink back into the same heat drunk place, a slow descent. Your pupils open wide enough for him to lose his senses. “Don’t keep me waiting, please.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You fall into a synchronicity this time around. Your legs spread wide, open and wanting. Wyll feels his throat start to close. His stomach flutters restlessly as he pushes his cock through your folds once, then twice - his head thrown back at the feeling of your bare skin. He reminds himself this isn’t something to get used to, but the pleasure is easy to indulge in.
It’s worsened by the fact you’re beautiful.
Wyll finds you so beautiful it’s ridiculous, even to him. The plush of your lips, the way your lashes fall along as your cheek, the shape of your eyes. All of you, bathed in moonlight and blessed by the higher powers. You’re a culmination, the very pinnacle of Wyll’s every last mad desire. If everything around him faded to nothing, Wyll would have no clue. No sense, no rational, no righteousness. With nothing but himself to offer you, he’s moonstruck. Hung up on your affection and the feeling of warmth of mutual love.
The order is all out of sorts, and everything is complicated. But Gods. Gods. You’re more beautiful than every dream he’s ever seen you in. Even the magic of his mind couldn’t form something so perfect.
“You’re really the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Your eyes widen, blinking rapidly before breaking out into a flush. “What are you saying?”
“When I was a boy, I often imagined getting married,” Wyll says, drawing little circles along your hip. Your mouth opens, but falls shut as you feel the head of his cock push against you. You shudder as Wyll moves so slowly, with no intent of pushing in. “I had high hopes for love. The magic of fairy tale romance always spoke to me. I was fond of beautiful sights too, to boot.”
Your breath hitches. Wyll feels you start to stretch around the tip of his cock. He swears under his breath, slowing even more. You let out a soft mewl as Wyll breathes through the sensation.
“But you know,” He presses deeper, just slightly. A suggestion of a thrust. Your hand shoots out to grab Wyll’s wrist where he’s gripping you at the waist. His vision strains as he moves slowly, another terrible inch. “You’ve, haah, exceeded my every expectation. There was no need for daydreaming.”
You make a choked sound as Wyll goes even deeper. Your hands grip tight, that same drunken look returning to you. The parts of you that are still there are teary eyed, sniffling. Your cunt pulses around him, sucking him deeper. You feel good, but Wyll is more focused on you. Imprinting you into his memory, like tonight is the last time he’d ever get to see you.
“If I could go back, to any time - I think I’d go back to being seventeen,” Wyll says with a smile, dropping himself closer to you. He leans up on his arm, noses brushing tenderly as you hiccup “I would tell Wyll from then to be strong. Become a Blade that can defend for the one who will become your shield.”
You look up at him teary and frustrated. Your arms wrap around his neck as you cry, and Wyll laughs a little. Everything is so warm. He loves you.
“If you’re any kinder to me, I don’t know what’ll become of me. Ugh, my eyes sting.”
Wyll can’t help his smile. “We’ll have to see it through, then.”
“Stop being so romantic and fuck me.”
He kisses your hairline. “As you wish.”
Wyll puts his hands up under your knees, folding you underneath him as he finally bottoms out. You both moan as you feel Wyll fill you up. You kiss him in that position, all desperation - tongue and teeth. Wyll is startled but indulges, a grinding thrust making you mewl into his mouth. He swallows the noise.
“Fuck me,” You huff, your eyes bleary. “I can—can feel you in my stomach,”
Wyll groans.
You feel incredible. Wyll has to stop moving to steady his mind. He wants to last a little longer than a few seconds if he can help it. Your cunt wraps around his cock like silk. Sticky walls clinging to him like a vice, pulsing with need at the slightest movement. Wyll is connected to you in such an intimate way, it makes him feel visceral. Almost possessive. You hold on like you want to milk him for all he’s worth.
He takes another long breath, steadying himself as he pulls out and slams himself back in. You cry out in response to the first thrust, but you don’t ask him to slow down. Wyll focuses on keeping his thrusts weighted and steady, something constant enough that your focus doesn’t break. He wants to make you cum again, and he knows better what you need now. He keeps you pinned underneath the weight of him as he finds a pace to move to.
Once he finds it, Wyll fucks you without abandon. You hold onto him tight, nose nudged against his neck as you let out the tiniest whimpers he’s ever heard you make. The pleasure debases you completely, makes you all wild. Wyll likes seeing you fall apart with each movement. Every time he pistons the right spot your eyes go wide and flutter back closed as if it’s too much.
The two of you make a mess. Wyll can hear his cock pull and push the arousal out of you - each thrust wet. It’s messy enough to make your skin stick together.
“Wyll,” You say his name like it’s a prayer of your goddess. Something to save you. Some kind of sacrilege that Wyll feels no guilt for. “I love you, I love you. Fuck—fuck me,”
“You’re my whole life,” Wyll grunts. “I’ll give you everything. Everything, my love.”
“I’m close,” Your voice is hoarse as you say it. “I’m so close, just a little—”
Wyll knows what you’re asking for. His hand sneaks between your bodies, palm resting on your tummy as his thumb messy circles on your puffy clit. You choke on your words, a broken thank you among the mess as Wyll keeps fucking you. Determined to make you cum one more time, he goes and goes and goes.
Wyll can feel you cum before you can tell him. You try to announce it, but the words don’t come out. He can feel your hesitance, feeling something in you as your teeth graze his necks.
“You can bite me. I can withstand it, love”
A pained whine is followed by the sharp feeling of your teeth in Wyll’s shoulder, as your voice breaks out into a howl. When you cum, you cum hard. Harder than before like you’re trying to latch onto him, your whole body going rigid before the tension breaks. Your orgasm crashes into you. You gasp as Wyll fucks you through it. He keeps fucking you through it until he feels you’ve calmed down.
“Cum, Wyll. For me, please.”
It’s enough to drive Wyll to the very edge. His desire reaches an impressive high. His thrusts become shallow, sloppy - the wet sound of him fucking you open finally reaching his ears as he gives into his own needs. Wyll cums hard. He bottoms out as he does, thick white ropes painting your insides as the two of you lay with each other.
When Wyll finally catches his breath and starts to go soft, he pulls away to look at you. You’re frowning at him.
“Is something—”
“Being sweet to me like that in the middle of that is unfair. I’m going to hold it against you.”
Wyll pauses before breaking out into a giggle.
“I was worried for a minute.”
“I love you.” You add, a little softer time. “Thank you for coming to find me.”
“Always.” Wyll replies, hugging you to him. “I adore you, you know.”
__
EPILOGUE:
You return to camp together at the end of your tenday.
Wyll is covered in all sorts of marks by the time you’ve arrived, and so are you. There’s not really anything to do to hide that. Or to hide the fact he’s utterly exhausted by the whole thing. He’s drained, though he thinks he could do it again if he timed it better.
It was nice to spend an entire tenday together, though. In between having sex or Wyll meeting your needs - you ate and slept and bathed together. Despite your circumstances the entire situation was domestic - and Wyll enjoyed being with you.
You are absolutely chipper and uncaring about the situation. Wyll wishes he could be a little more like you in this case.
The first person to see you at camp is Karlach.
“Well, look who it is!” Karlach chirps, absolutely delighted. “The lovebirds are back,”
The whole camp stirs at the announcement. It’s early enough that everyone is still at camp. Wyll feels his skin prick with heat as you leave his side, prancing over to Karlach to chat with her. Back to your usual self, Wyll feels a specific fondness about having seen a new side of you and remaining so unchanged.
“Oh, you’ve returned?” Astarion says. Wyll looks up, surprised.
“Ah, uhm, yes.”
Astarion stands next to Wyll with his arms crossed.
“Have you finally done it or do I have to endure more of your incessant pining?”
Wyll chokes on his spit.
“You’re losing your touch Astarion,” Shadowheart says, shuffling into camp from behind Wyll with a towel that needs to be dried. “That one over there is chipper and this one can barely look at them. Shouldn’t that tell you all you need to know?”
“Tsk. You’re right. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Or some celebration. At least I won’t have to see you two eye-fucking each other every day. It was getting dire..”
“I wouldn’t be so confident,” Shadowheart says. “He’s doing it right now even after they spent a tenday wrapped in each other's arms.”
Astarion sighs. “Gods. Can’t have anything these days.”
Wyll opts not to say anything, handling them with usual grace.
“Thanks for the congratulations,” Wyll says, staring at you idly. “Hope it wasn’t too difficult without us.”
“Hardly.”
Wyll smiles at that. He watches you as you talk to Karlach animatedly, smiling a little harder. He can take as much teasing as they dish out.
He could endure it ten times over, as long as he gets to be with you.
☾ a/n ; whew… we've made it to the end. i wrote this fic in a whopping 12 days. it was a crazy experience especially since i havent written anything i'd personally consider substantial since like.. idk april 2023. i also mostly write for anime so its a little nervewracking specifically writing for bg3. THAT BEING SAID. i love wyll. i started playing the game for him and he has bewitched me mind body and soul. it is rather disheartening to see how much larian dgaf about him so i guess part of me writing this is also trying to convince people to see what i see in wyll. something something that joan didion quote about writing as a form of violence bc of imposing views something something.
wyll is a really moving character to me. i like characters who are categorically so righteous it drives them to the destruction of themselves.
but the specific dichotomy of wyll - a man who has lost every ounce of agency time and time again with this tav was especially consuming. tav too is considered a monster, but they embrace and love this part of themselves. i think witnessing that, and the reframing monstrosity in wylls case is really helpful for him. tav doesnt know what losing their agency is like, but they're able to restructure wylls belief of what this new body of his is worth. that he is worthy all the same, and that he exists outside of being the blade. these sorts of things haunted me during this. but also… i just wanted to see wyll bang a desperate heat addled werewolf shorty. lol.
ANYWAYS. sorry for this MASSIVE wall of text. i just really love wyll so much and i hope this iteration of him felt in line with who he is. and if you're not a wyll fan and just a fic consume well… i hope i was able to compel you towards him a bit. in any case, thanks for reading! and please do leave a comment if you liked it! all feedback appreciated.
also i dont normally ask but if you could rb this fic if you liked it'd be appreciated </3 im trying to find wyll likers ehdjksjf
#wyll x reader#wyll ravengard x reader#bg3 x reader#wyll smut#bg3 smut#writing tag#cant wait to post this so i may be free from whatever demon possessed me while writing this.
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Hii! Can i request something with elder yautja, his s/o and his son moment? It can be something funny, fluff, or angst its up to you! Thank you and please be safe!
Elder yautjas son moments
Just for writing purposes, the s/o is playing a “motherly role”
IM SORRY. I kind of went WAY off topic with this. Hope you still like it anon. :)
Let’s all be honest with ourselves here.
We all need yearly check ups right? Regular, dental, eyes, and ears, the whole shebang.
I mean yeah sure there are probably other oomanologists but do you think your mate would trust them? No. So instead you go to your poor step-son who has most likely seen everything you have to offer.
He’s better than other doctors due to his actual fascination with your body’s difference perks.
Your dental appointment took over four hours because he was examining your absent/present tonsils. He’ll be sitting there like a dad watching football as she looks at your X-rays, marveling at you oh so human teeth.
Your mate HATES it.
Your time is being wasted just so his idiotic son can geek out.
Tbh they have taken you hunting before.
Though if anything you were just clinging to your mate as he hopped from tree to tree.
In yautja culture if I am correct most of the time the female raises the kid by themselves.
Let’s say no, mama dies and now your mate is a single father with a child he has no clue how to raise aside from hunting.
He would learn the ropes fairly quick, he will become mama and still be dad too.
The poor son most likely has NO clue what it means to be loved in the embrace of a mother.
He’ll be all dumbfounded if you fuss over him getting hurt, meanwhile his father would tell him to walk off his broken leg.
He’s not used to the home cooked meals or the extra amount of food being shoved down his throat so he can be big and strong like his daddy.
He’s definitely not used to you telling him to go sleep because he’s been up for three days. When he tells you he’s fine you do that look and start counting down only for him to surrender.
Your mate would be kind of jealous but at the same time might make him want to pump a kid out of you.
Is it bad I’d wanna tuck him in? Real tight like so he can’t get out.
I know I’m making the son seem like he’s a kid but at the same time, he would love all of this. Every last bit.
He’s probably a full grown elite adult.
You’ll have him spoiled for you though, he’ll come over to your house you share with his father only to ask for a home cooked meal.
He’d stay over just so you can tuck him in at night.
He’ll eat all of the babying stuff right up as if he was starved from it. (He was.)
Though it’ll take him forever, he’ll eventually call you mom. Though it’ll be ‘Ma’.
Your mate on the other hand is getting clinger, asking you to do all of that for him.
Now you’ve got two full grown yautja men wanting to be babied.
#yautja#elder yautja#monster#yautja x reader#monster boyfriend#so cute#yautja boyfriend#old man yautja#yautja stuff#yautja yes
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Messy Hands - Part Two
Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader AFAB
Summary: Miguel just can’t get you off his mind. As a result, he’s always there when you need him most, whether you like it or not.
Word count: 4.6k+
CW: 18+ so MDNI, NSFW, mentions of blood, acts of violence, SA(NOT MIGUEL), stalking, jealousy, possessive behaviors, toxic relationship, mentions of death, slow burn, no use of Y/N
A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET OUT BUT I PROMISE ITS GOOD!!! THANK YOU TO MY BETA READER @jshookthighs I FUCKIN LOVE YOU
Part One here
Time never stops.
It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going battle behind closed eyes and clenched fists. No matter how many deep breaths are sucked in between gritted teeth, no matter how much he prayed, begged, kicked or screamed, time marched on. Taking it’s toll on the world and his soul as it did. With time came its companion, decay. A devious creature that preyed on the innocent and beautiful, corrupting it with it’s touch. That’s how Miguel began to see it all. It was a matter of time until his brain too rotted away until his skull was nothing more than an empty cavity to host his rage rather than his conscience. Every day he could feel the threads of his sanity being pulled taut, and every day he doubted how much longer he could go without being the cause of a fucking masacre.
Wrath.
Rage.
Justice.
So much “justice” due. That’s how he saw it. So many people had done wrong by him; tore him apart, brick by brick. Hurt the people he loved most just to get to him. Until one fateful night, he was left with nothing but a beating heart pumping weakly in a dirty alley, left to die. His chest still tightens at the memory of her. Stolen innocence snuffed out too soon. And yet the ones to blame were left unharmed, hidden behind the ivory walls of their mansions, never truly getting their hands dirty.
Cowards.
If only he had the chance, he’d slaughter them. Watch the life drain from their pathetic bodies as they’d squirm and writhe in pain. Begging for a bullet. But Miguel would take his time with them though, he was patient and knew better than to grant them a sliver of mercy. It was the only lesson his father ever taught him.
But that all would come in due time. Miguel was patient, capable of biding his time until his prey found themselves tangled in his web and unable to escape. But until then much like time, Miguel marched on; dragging a little corpse behind him.
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Weeks had since passed at this point, breezing through late spring and bleeding into early summer. The days after the mysterious brute entered Bellagino’s were tense, leaving Mr. Caparelli flighty and panicked. The stout little man could often be found pacing in the kitchen, muttering to himself with a distraught look painted on his face. You didn’t dare ask why he seemed so frightened since his ‘friend’ came to visit, mostly because you yourself seemed a little terrified of him as well. In lieu of your best efforts and his divine features, the man was cold and seemed pestered by your presence at your last encounter. Despite this though, you seem to find yourself staring at him more and more. Since the meeting with Bellaginos’ owner, Miguel had begun to visit the quaint little restaurant every other week or so.
Miguel couldn’t find the motive behind his actions truly. He raked his brain for an answer, disturbing the cobwebs in his head to try and understand why he had to mindlessly sit here and watch. Sit and watch this run down old restaurant like a dog. Sit and feel his shoulders slump as the soft hum began to tune out the buzzing in his mind. He’d come in and plop down at the same little table in the center of the room and the owner would bring him the same ice water with lemon.
For the first two weeks, he had attempted to convince himself it was purely to ensure that Caparelli wouldn’t run out on him. Sure, getting to watch the pretty little thing behind the register try not to stare was fun, but these were just business trips. What did it matter that he started coming in twice a week? What did it matter that he’d feel a twist of disappointment when he’d walk through the creaky little door and not see you in your usual spot because it was your day off? It was just business.
That is until finally he had no choice but to confront the truth. It came at him, sitting in his lap, oozing through his gut and making his stomach tie in knots. It made him nervous and queasy, forced to hide it all behind a stonewall mask. It felt foreign, his thoughts jumbled as he began to lose focus on it all.
‘There’s no way. It’s just work.. It’s just..’
It was a warm night in July and an unusually busy Friday evening at Bellagino’s, due in part to the ongoing festival at the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Fairy lights twinkled overhead in the outdoor dining area, each seat filled with couples and gaggles of laughing friends. Miguel almost didn’t recognize the place with it so full of life. The building had an unfamiliar glow to it that simply complimented it, turning it into the homely feel of a little Italian cottage. Turning his attention to the windows as he approached, he saw you, floating around tables with a smile on your face. His lips parted slightly as he watched you, glowing like an angel in the warm lights.
In your element, twirling to avoid guests with ease, plating food and drinks without spilling a drop. You moved with grace and poise, completely unbothered and confident. It was a complete parallel to how you acted when Miguel was there.
That’s when he felt it. A tugging at his chest and the tightening of his lungs as he held his breath. He could feel his heart thrumming as he stood there, starstruck. For the first time, it wasn’t just a subtle hum, it was a goddamn symphony. A cacophony of harmonious melodies blended together to form the tune playing behind his eyes as he gawked in awe. He couldn’t think straight, his own thoughts being muffled out and pulled to the back of his mind. Sweaty palms clenched into tight fists as he closed his eyes and tried to shake out the cotton filling his head.
‘Think O’Hara… Breathe dammit…’ he reminded himself.
A large hand brushed back loose curls as he inhaled slowly through his nose. He knew he couldn’t stand there staring at you all night like some love stricken fool. He forced himself to move, to draw closer to the siren that called his name without even knowing he was there. His knees buckled, faltering for only a moment as he approached the door. Pushing through, his nerves got the better of him for just a split second and his instincts slipped as his eyes merely tracked you throughout the bustling restaurant. Forgetting to duck his head like he usually did, the top of Miguel’s forehead smacked into the doorframe with a soft thud.
He winced, inhaling sharply as he stumbled inside for a moment. He grit his teeth, more so from annoyance rather than pain. He shut his eyes, hoping to drown out the throbbing at the front of his skull if he rubbed it hard enough. He was grateful that almost everyone else seemed too enveloped in their own mindless conversations to even notice he’d arrived.
Almost everyone.
Approaching Miguel, you looked up at him. His hulking frame would’ve been intimidating had it not been that he slouched a little as he held his head. For the first time since you met him, it made your eyebrows draw upward in concern.
“Sir, are you okay..?”
It took Miguel a moment to open his eyes, his scarlet irises glancing down at you. Slowly he took in the shape of you, nodding his head sheepishly as he swallowed. His hand fell away from his head as he tried to regain his composure. This had been the first time since your initial meeting that you’d spoken to him. Once again, that honey voice triggered the euphoric hum in the back of his mind. Once his gaze met your eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. They were dazzling and full of genuine concern for him. The kind of eyes that men write poems and hymns about. Sweet irises that he could swim in, but he feared that if he dove in, he’d never come up for air. He’d never seen eyes like yours before. So awestruck that the only response he could give you was a low hum.
You looked down, feeling your bravery caught in your chest. Your eyes darted down to your feet and you cleared your throat, trying to remember the usual script you ran through when a customer arrived.
“R-Right, well… Table for one..?” You asked sheepishly, reaching for a menu. For a moment, Miguel feels his heart stutter. All the confidence you just had somehow managed to seep away in his presence. The way you kept your gaze glue to the floor made him frown, biting the inside of his cheek gently. He could feel the tension rising, an awkward wall you were starting to build. For half a second, Miguel felt a twinge of panic wash over him. He looked at you, searching your body for an out, a way to make things better, to make you less afraid. He swallowed thickly, scrambling his brain to try and think of something to say to lighten the mood or even make you laugh.
“Does it look like I’ve got anyone with me?”
‘Fuck.’
It comes out flat and sarcastic, not charming or teasing as he meant for it to. He internally cringes at himself as he sees the way you retract from him.
“Oh… yeah… Sorry, sir.” You mumble out and begin to guide him to his usual spot. The broken tone of your voice feels like a punch to the gut. A twist of his innards that has him wishing he could turn back time. He’s never been this awkward or nervous before. Usually his callous behavior is intentional and pointed, but now he feels it just makes him look like an ass.
“I’ll be right back to take your order…” Soft spoken and sweet, you place the menu down and walk away. Once seated, he pinches the bridge of his nose in self frustration, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out an annoyed sigh. He’s never been like this before, never been this much of a mess because of a woman. Usually his suave and charming nature takes over and he’s able to seduce anyone he damn well pleases, but for some unknown reason; you broke him. He groans quietly and shakes his head slowly, feeling the butterflies now pooling in his stomach.
‘Aye carajo, get a hold of yourself..’
It feels like his brain is on fire, criticizing every way the interaction went wrong. He feels his gut twist, pinching his nose with enough force that it starts to hurt and his knuckles turn white. The throbbing only continued as his frustration grew. His face practically morphs into a snarl as he sits and waits. Opening his eyes, he glares down at the menu before him, a pleather bound book with the edges peeling away. He tries to refocus his attention on literally anything else than his blundering attempt at conversation.
Miguel is left grumbling to himself when you return to his side. Silently you place a glass of ice water with a lemon wedge bobbing about the glass beside him. Fear beats quickly along side your heart as you wordlessly reach out your other hand, gently clutching a crude ice pack. It was nothing extraordinary, a little sandwich baggie filled with ice chips and wrapped loosely in paper towel. It’s placed on the table beside the water with care. Miguel eyes it for a moment. He feels his stomach twist again but this time its a different feeling. It flutters and it’s soft with smoother edges than before. His cheeks just hardly flush a soft pink as his features remain contorted into a grimace. Without turning his head more than two inches, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes are once again glued to your feet, trembling hands reaching to the pen and notepad tucked into your apron. With your head down and your nose nearly buried to the paper of the little booklet, Miguel can’t see the heat that’s spread across your face.
“A-Are you ready to order..?” You squeak out in a voice hardly above a whisper.
Miguel swallows, clearing his throat as he lifts his head. The pink on his cheeks is beginning to darken as your gaze peers over your little notepad and into his crimson eyes. His face melts from frustration, his brows furrowing just a little as he stares back, trying to remember his words.
“No.. I.. Just the water is fine.” He manages to force out. His hands are absently pulling at the cheap white fabric tablecloth as he looks at you. He swears that if he could freeze time at this moment, he would. The way your gaze softens as you look at him, has him biting his tongue just hardly. The butterflies are flapping wildly about in his stomach. Miguel’s canines dig into the tender flesh as he tries to ground himself, distract himself from how pretty those lashes would flutter as he forced you to look up at him from your knees. Would you let him hold your face still while he pounds into you- he wonders.
Your eyes flit back down to your book and you nod your head.
“Y-Yes sir. If you need anything, j-just call for me.” You hold the little name badge pinned to your chest for him as if he hadn’t eyed it the first twelve times he came in to watch you work. With that, you turn on your heel and leave him. Scurrying to another table while Miguel is left merely watching.
The subtle throbbing beats against his head like a drum before he glances down at the icepack you brought over. It feels so tiny in his hand. He lets out a little groan as he presses the baggie to his forehead, relishing in the relief it just barely provides. He can’t help the smile halfheartedly pulling at the corners of his mouth as he sits there.
‘She really didn’t have to do that…’
But he hardly has a chance to bask in his appreciation when he hears it, just barely audible amongst the chatter.
“Aww c’mon sweet’art. I bet I could show ya a real good time.” The man drawls out, clearly drunk from the second pitcher of sangria he and his buddies were splitting. He’s got a toothy and sloshed grin spread across his face as his hand glides up the back of your thigh. You look mortified, eyes silently screaming for help.
Miguel feels his lip twitch as he rises up from his seat.
“S-Sir please stop..” You squeak out, too quiet for the pickled bastard to hear or care. His hand is pulling back, gearing up for a smack, when suddenly a wide tan palm wraps itself around his wrist. It’s grip is tight and overwhelming when Miguel yanks, nearly dragging the drunk out to the ground in the process.
“No la toques, pendejo.” Miguels spits with venom as he twists the man’s arm. The usual hum that played in your presence was washed out by his rage. No one should be allowed to touch you, especially not some wasted shithead. Gritting his teeth, Miguel has to remind himself that he’s in public. Eyes fly to watch the scene unfold. He grumbles lowly as the man cries out in pain before Miguel practically tosses him back into his seat. He scrambles, nearly falling out of his chair to get back from you and Miguel.
With parted lips, a little gasp escapes you. Miguel feels his conscience flooding in as he looks back at you. Wordlessly, he jerks his head towards the door and starts heading for the exit. His eyes are cold, commanding almost. He grumbles something out loud to Caparelli about leaving in Spanish as his grasp nearly tears the creaky little door off it’s hinges. His eyes trace over you once more before he turns his back on you and lets out a gruff, “C’mon.”
Sticking close behind, you slip out the door as he holds it open.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
The night air is warm, the remnants of the summer heatwave still staining Nueva York. It’s mostly quiet aside from the drone of car engines as they pass by. You’re silently keeping pace with Miguel, feeling your chest rattle from the whole interaction. Frightened, confused, and over in a flash. It makes you ball your hands into tight little fists, frustration quietly bubbling up in your chest. In that moment, you froze, retracting into your shell in the hopes that you could avoid confrontation all together. You’re biting back tears as they prick at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is brewing with what ifs and how badly it could’ve gone when suddenly, his voice pulls you from your thoughts. It’s low and sultry with the fleeting taste of a Spanish accent. You couldn’t really hear the words coming out of his mouth, too busy being lulled by the sound of him. You jerk your attention to him, eyeing his lips for a moment before forcing your gaze to meet his.
“Hm?” Is all you can manage.
“I said, do you live around here?” His voice cuts through, fully grounding you and bringing you back to the present.
“O-Oh.. yea. About five blocks thata way.” You tip your head to the left. “I can just walk.”
Miguel nods his head before starting to lead the way down 48th street. You open your mouth to protest his accompaniment but let the words die in your throat. Walking side by side with your head down, you could only let your thoughts wash over you again.
Miguel lumbered on the side of the concrete closest to the street, grumbling as he kept his eyes forward. Loathing boiled inside his stomach, frothing from his mouth in a string of Spanish curses and death threats.
“If I ever see that fucker again, I swear… Llevaré su piel como un abrigo.” He growled to himself, plotting and mentally preparing for the literal hell that he was going to drag that stranger through. His fists were clenched tightly at his side, burning white until he heard a soft sniffle. Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he turned his head to face you.
Your eyes were still glued to the sidewalk beneath you, tears rolling down ruddy cheeks despite how hard you tried to keep them from spilling. The quiet sounds you made were a result of the runny nose that accompanied your tears. It all just felt so overwhelming, so scary. In a moment of quiet and scarce vulnerability, you tried to be brave. But it was so so hard.
Miguel felt his heart sink in his chest. Thoughts of annihilation and revenge washed away. Softened eyes stared down at you silently as he tried to form the right words to say to you to make the pain and fear melt away. But he couldn’t. Miguel was all too aware of the fact that he lacked the necessary eloquence. It pained him to see you trying to bottle it all up. His teeth sunk into his cheek as he scrambled internally. Finally, he loosened his tightly balled fist, letting it hang limp.
Rough, large knuckles brushed up against the back of your dainty hand. The gentle ghost of a caress, hardly grazing your flesh, almost like he was afraid you’d shatter. Warmth radiated off his hand as once again, it swept across your skin, featherlight. Your head lifted, attempting to gaze up at Miguel, but by this time, he’d turned his head away from you in a shallow attempt to hide his growing blush. Whether it had been due to your tear-blurred eyes or your own volition, you stepped hardly an inch closer to the giant, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.
The rest of the trek back to your shabby apartment was quiet, muted were the sounds of Miguel’s grumbling. They were drowned out by the sounds of your indistinct humming. It was nearly impossible to hear, but it was the only thing Miguel could focus on as the two of you passed through your neighborhood. Entering a large, ten-story building, Miguel was only able to remember where he was in the flickering yellow lights of the hall to your apartment door.
Standing before your apartment, he swallowed thickly. Palms sweaty and the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as you turned your back on him to unlock the door. You looked so small, so delicate, and so fucking pretty. He felt his heart race in his chest, nearly forgetting all together the events of nearly twenty minutes ago. Right now he just wanted to come inside with you and hold you in his arms. He wanted your body pressed against his chest, lulling him to sleep in the comfort of your bed. He wondered if those sheets smelled as sweet as you did, felt as soft to the touch. He tried to wondered if he’d prefer to rest his head amongst your pillows or your thighs, but he already knew the answer.
‘Please… please let me come in cariño… let me make you feel better… let me take care of you, just for tonight…’ he prayed to himself as he watched you open the door with caution.
Doe eyes stared up at him as his lips parted to speak. Just your gaze forced him mute. Rubbing the tears from your cheeks and smiling up at him with warmth and fondness, he thought he was going to fall to his knees right then and there.
“Thank you.. I-I really appreciate everything, sir.” You said gently, hardly above a whisper. It made Miguel savor your voice. The way it made his brain tingle and swim felt better than any liquor he’s ever had. He wanted to hear more of you, but more than anything he wanted to hear you say his name.
“It was no trouble at all. But please chula, from now on just call me Miguel…” He tried to offer the same warm smile you did but could hardly manage anything more than a sweet little smirk. Despite his expression though, you could see the light in his eyes. It was dull and flickering, but it was there, growing. You nodded your head and gave an airy half chuckle.
“Heh okay… Well then, good night… Miguel.” You spoke in the sweetest tone you could manage. Miguel felt a shiver travel down his spine. His cheeks flushed lightly and he swore he could feel his heart pounding behind his eyes. The way his name fell from your tongue made him weak and practically feral. For a moment he considered sweeping you off your feet and fucking you into the couch just so he could hear you say his name like that again. But instead he stood there, attempting to bite back his animalistic urges with his canines as you began to slip into your apartment. The door gently closed as he watched, standing there and thinking about all the ways he’d make you scream his name.
He tries to shake the thought loose but can’t. He can’t stop thinking about how sweet and obedient you’d be. How much you make his heart flutter and how crazy it drives him. Miguel feels a stirring in his chest, a queasiness that makes him feel sick for a moment as reality strolls back in. The fires of rage being stoked once more in your absence as he remembers what brought him to your apartment in the first place.
He can practically already taste blood on his tongue when he recalls the drunk from the restaurant. How terrified he made you, how something worse could’ve happened had Miguel not’ve been there. Through the haze of his anger he makes a decision, you’ll never be without protection again. He’ll always make sure you’re safe, constantly under the watchful eye of the family. Fuck if he could, he’d guard you himself, day and night.
No matter what or how, he’d keep you safe from the scum that roamed this city. He wouldn’t let the only pure thing in his life be tainted or taken away. Not again. God forbid anything did happen to you, Miguel would have to burn the whole city to the ground.
From that day forth, whenever he couldn’t watch over you himself Miguel would have one of his Spider’s watching over you. Jess or Ben would be the one’s usually sitting in an unmarked vehicle outside of Bellagino’s, stalking in the shadows to make sure you got home safe, reporting back to Miguel as he worked.
For a short while it satisfied him. That is until one night Jess reported she saw you opening the door for some friends, ushering them inside with glee as they carried bottles of wine and board games. Jess tried to explain it was fine, beyond normal even. But Miguel didn’t care. In fact he’d stopped listening to her the moment she said there was a man amongst the group of 4 that were permitted entry. Who the fuck was he? Why did he get to be so close to you? Jealousy washed over him, filling him to the brim.
‘It’s just for her protection…’ that’s what he told himself. Over and over again. Even when he had Peter install the little devices inside your house, while you were off at work. Miguel felt a tinge of guilt, sitting and watching you work with a smile on your face from his table. Meanwhile hidden surveillance cameras were being put in your bedroom, your kitchen, your bathroom, and your living room. It ate at him a little that he worried so much. But how could he not? He couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. This was for your safety, he knew better than to let you out of his sight. The last time he wasn’t watching carefully enough, it cost him… her.
No. He wouldn’t bury another person he cared about. Not when he had the power to do something about it this time. Not when you just started to warm up to him. You finally started to look him in the eye when he sat down at his usual spot. You finally started to smile at him and bless him with that angelic laugh. You started to loosen up and even stop and chat for a few minutes. Once on your break, you just sat and talked to him for the whole thirty minutes, telling him about your day and terrible jokes you thought he might like. All just to see him smile and laugh back at you. He couldn’t just let you slip away. Not when he knew what he’d do if he lost you.
As little as you knew it, you were holding his shattering mind together, keeping him from falling apart. If only you understood how much he needed you.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
Time never stops. It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going beating of hearts and whispers of hope that pray for a better tomorrow. With time came its companion, decay. A mysterious creature that made room in the world for new hope and potential. Miguel didn’t always enjoy time’s passage, nor did he adore it’s companion decay. But with the two, a third party marched, carrying a flag of promise and beauty. With time and decay, tread growth. A glorious and shining ray for tomorrow, growth lit a path for time, giving way for hope.
Everyday that he saw your glowing face, he could feel his heart beating and mending, little by little.
But Miguel was patient, slowly learning to accept time and the company it kept. He knew to bide his time and earn your trust. He knew that with time, you’d be his.
Part 3
Taglist
@whisperwispxx @eatally @moonvoidpng @unicornbabygremlin @chshiresins @iloveyouall234-blog @amber-content
#across the spiderverse#mafia#mafia au#miguel o'hara#miguel smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#yandere!miguel o’hara#stalker!miguel#stalker
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hotel room | H.S
summary: harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.
warnings: SMUT! hand job (f+m receiving), PIV unprotected, sloppy morning sex, teasing, swearing, praise, friends to lovers.
A/N:I have opened my requests! and I’d love to write some from you guys, so send them in here <3
———
“So there’s only… definitely only one room for us?” I say slowly, and the lady behind the counter nods.
“Y/N,” Harry says, “we’ve shared a room before—“
“I’m so sorry the inconvenience— Since the multitude of delayed flights from the storm we’ve had an unexpected influx of last-minute bookings…” her hands are zipping along the keyboard as she is clearly under the pump.
“You’ve been booked under a single room.” She glances up, face turned up apologetically, confirming.
I nod, knowing there’s so many other people needing somewhere to stay right now, there’s no point being picky.
It’s just one night.
Because Harry and I live in the same part of the UK, we usually catch the same planes to and from when we get short breaks from touring with the band.
So of course we flew out for our Australian leg of the tour several hours ago and got stuck at our layover destination, Abu Dhabi.
The storm rolled in quick, putting hour— even day long— delays on flights. So now people are scrambling to book hotels for the next few nights.
Luckily our management got on it as soon as we’d called them about the delay of out flight, but I suppose they only could get us the one room for two.
We get our room key and head up the elevator to the 7th floor.
When we walk into the room there is a single queen bed in the centre of it, and I glance at Harry out the corner of my eye. We are always close to one another being in the band, but never “share a bed” close.
“Don’t stress.” He says.
“I’m not stressed.” I quip.
“Yes you are, don’t try and bullshit me.”
“Harry, we’re adults it’s fine.”
“Hardly adults.” He chuckles.
I scoff at his constant digs, there is a fineline of how much Harry I can tolerate in a day and we are really pushing it.
“Well if you think that then I implore you to take the couch.” I know just by looking at the couch he’d hardly fit on it, and I’m not that much of an asshole to let that happen.
“Oooh, you’re just trying t’get the bed all to yourself? Bloody bed hog.”
I open my bag up, pulling out fresh clothes and my toiletries, “Was just providing you the options. I’m going to shower.”
“Too bad if I wanted one first.” He sighs dramatically, with a little smirk that usually indicates he’s teasing.
“Too bad indeed.” I smile sarcastically at him as I shut the door.
It’s so nice to wash away the gross feeling that sticks to your skin after long flights like we just had.
When I come out of the bathroom he’s laying in the bed, crisp white doona pulled back.
“Dude you’re getting airport germs in the bed.”
He glances up from his phone, eyeing me for a split second— I’m just in sleep shorts and a plain tshirt.
“It’s fine, I’ll just have this side.” He replies, a smile breaking out over his face.
He leaves me no room to respond as he stands up, “im gonna have a shower as well, and then we can order room service, how’s that sound?”
I nod, “I’ll get the menu and have a read through.”
It’s weird how we one minute can’t stop sarcastically niggling and the next we’re back to being normal friends.
I browse through their relatively large menu as the shower runs in the background. If I strain, I can hear Harry gently humming.
I’m happy to see my favourite foods on there… and heaps of deserts.
He comes out shortly after while I’m still reading the menu, and he’s clad in only grey sweatpants, adorning damp hair.
I choose to tear my eyes away from his bare chest, “I’ve figured out what I want to get, have a read through.”
I chucked him the menu and he comes to sit down next to me on the bed.
Im surprised we don’t end up in another debate about the sleeping arrangements, but I think we’re both so exhausted from the flight. The 8 hour plane trip settling deep into our bones.
“They have y’favourite.” He says with a smile playing on his lips.
“Yea, I’m so glad. It’s all I’m craving right now.”
“What are you gonna get?” I lean to look over his shoulder at the menu.
“Maybe I’ll try their tacos?”
“I’m gonna order some of the desert stuff too.”
“Y’gonna be so full.” He laughs.
“It’ll be worth it.” I say, as I stand up to go over to the phone on the desk in the corner of the room.
I ring up and order an unnecessary amount of stuff before giving them our room number and hoping back into bed.
It’s so cozy, and if it weren’t for the food I knew was coming, I’d probably curl up and fall asleep straight away.
We lay together, talking about the plan for the next few days until the food gets delivered with a knock on the door.
I get up to open it, taking the trays of food from the kind waiter.
He groans, “God it smells good.”
We both spread the dishes of food on the bed and quickly start eating.
The TV starts playing reruns of friends, the episode where Ross makes the paste with his leather pants, trying to get them up.
We’re both tearing up with laughter, stuffing our faces with our first proper meal since dinner on the plane over 5 hours ago.
“Holy shit.” He says, and we’re are letting out fits of giggles, as Ross says “—and the lotion and the powder have made a paste…”
“I swear— why did he listen to joey.” I scoff, shoving a bite of food into my mouth.
“No, because the way it just keeps getting worse.” He buries his face into his hands with a pained grin.
We watch a few of the episodes that were playing, sharing the last of the chocolate cookies that I’d ordered.
I stood up to move all the trays our food came on over to the small kitchen bench, leaving them for the morning.
“That was so yum.” I sigh out, content and full.
I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish up my night routine, ready to honestly just go to sleep.
I come out with a small smile on my lips, excited to get back into bed where it’s cozy. Slipping back under the crisp white sheets, Harry turns off the TV.
The room is now dark, “fuck… can’t see now— I gotta brush m’teeth as well.”
“Have my phone.” I chuck it in his general direction, and clonk him straight in the side.
“Ouch.” He huffs, grabbing it and turning the flash on.
He pads over to the bathroom while I roll my eyes at how dramatic he is.
He turns the lights on in there, coming back over to give me my phone now that he can see.
I text a few of my immediate family members to let them know we’d settled into our hotel, choosing to leave out the fact we’re sharing a bed.
I mean assuming that’s what the plan is. I highly doubt he wants to sleep on the couch.
Being the only female in a band of boys leads to lots of assumptions throughout my family unit. Especially with Harry.
They mistake our arguments as ‘pent-up sexual frustration’. Which is far from how I like to think of it.
He steps out from the bathroom, and I turn my torch on so he can flick the light off.
He scrapes a hand over his face, looking to me with tired eyes.
The hotel was relatively quiet now, only a few drunken laughs echoing down the hallway as it nears 12am.
He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.
I tug my pillow down a bit before turning off my flash.
“Y’tired?” He asks quietly, sounding already kind of groggy.
I hum in agreement, rolling to face him. It’s quiet a few beats.
I can just make out his outline next to me,
I can feel the warmth of his body from where I’m laying. And it feels like I’m being enveloped by it in a strange— yet lovely way.
The thought floats around in my head, images conjuring from the darkness.
I blame this on the 8 hour flight and sleep deprivation.
Usually I can ignore it, but as much as he’s a proper pain in the ass sometimes, I’d have to be visually impaired to say he wasn’t good looking.
And hell he’s laying in the same bed as me without a shirt on.
“Y’staring at me.” He chuckles softly, and I startle a little.
“How can you even see me?” I ask, amused.
“I can’t, can just feel it.”
“As if you can feel it.” I scoff, “I’ll roll over if my eyes being on you makes you too uncomfortable.”
“No, no, wait come back.” He whines as I start to move.
I huff out a laugh, and roll back over to him.
I keep my eyes shut, “better?”
He whispers a yes, and I smile.
I keep that very smile as I drift off, listening to Harry’s slow breathes from beside me, allowing them to lull me to sleep.
———
I can only half remember waking up.
I was warm, heavy, and I felt his body before I saw it.
My eyes had only opened a tiny bit—there was light creeping through the thin curtains, making his unruly hair just visible.
My leg was thrown over his hip, and I was pressed right into his chest. We were fully intertwined, and fuck did it feel nice.
I close my eyes again, I can feel his morning wood. My heart jumps a little in my chest. Maybe I can just roll over— pretend I didn’t feel it, and go back to sleep.
I carefully strain to make the movement, but I instead get pulled closer to him.
He pushes himself against me, a sigh slipping from his nose, and I realise moving may have been a bad idea.
“Fuck…” I hear him mutter against my hair, bucking his hips up again.
“Harry.” I say, voice croaky with sleep. Of course this does nothing.
I have no idea how awake he is, I’m not even fully awake yet. But Jesus, this feels better than it should.
I feel like a horrific person for enjoying the way his clothed-length is pressed into me. But by god I am not strong enough to remove myself from this situation.
“Harry, wake up.” I groaned, squirming a little in his grasp.
He seems to come to it, just enough to realise whatever the fuck is happening in a couple seconds.
“Y/N…? Fuck. what is—“ I feel his body tense underneath me as it hits him, and he probably feels his boner pressed between my legs.
His hand flys up to my thigh that’s resting on his hip, “Holy shit—“
“It’s fine, H.” I whisper, and I’m not really sure why I say that, or what I’m implying by doing so.
Or what it means paired with the fact I haven’t protested to his dick practically grinding against my cunt.
“What do you mean?” He asks, groggily.
“Not sure.” I confess, whimpering a little as he still is hard underneath me. I push into him a bit out of unspoken desire and I hear him swallow.
He doesn’t say anything as he slides his hand up my leg, cupping it on my ass.
I glance up to see his face, his eyes still half-lidded, and his cheeks have a gentle flush to them.
I feel myself getting wetter as he keeps rubbing himself along my thin sleep shorts.
He moans a bit, and I slip my hand between us to palm his cock through his sweatpants.
“This ok? Want me to help you out a bit?”
“God— yes please…” he groans.
I push it underneath his waistband, tugging him out.
He’s heavy and hot in my hand. Glancing down, its bigger than I expected. The tip is flush and red, glistening with the damp beads of precum. Hardly surprising he’s got such a pretty cock.
“Fuckin’ Christ— look at y’little hand wrapped ‘round me.” He swears.
I slowly squeeze the head of it, and that quickly has him bucking into my palm.
His own hand travels between my sleep shorts, “Mind i return the favour?”
I hum in agreement, but he doesn’t do anything, “Gotta hear you say it, tell me what you want.”
I roll my eyes, of course he’s like this in bed, wants to hear how bad I want him.
“What do you want me to say to you Harry? How bad I want your fingers in my wet cunt right now, or how I want you to fuck my clit with your tongue?”
“Want my tongue do you? Because yes that’s exactly what I’d like to hear.” He says, smirking as he dips his hand under my shorts, running his fingers through me.
“No panties… been next to me all night with your pussy so easily accessible. Such a little slut.”
He collects my arousal, carrying it up to my swollen clit. I moan with the action, trying to keep my hand pumping rhythmically.
This proves to be a challenge, as he’s very clearly skilled with his fingers.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Hardly even touched you.”
“Been grinding your dick into me for a bit, actually.” I hiss as he slips a finger into me.
“Sorry, Baby. Did my hard cock get you all worked up?” He teases, and I hate the fact that he’s right.
I give a particularly hard squeeze and he grunts, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He quickens the pace of his fingers, fucking them in and out of me.
“Hard to hate me when I’m making you feel so good, hm?” He kisses my forehead, curling his fingers in me.
I cry out. Fuck— I was going to come.
“Wait, wait, wait— don’t wanna come yet, please…” I clench my thighs around his hand and it stills.
I look up at him, his green eyes burning with desire.
He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head down and places a wet kiss on my lips.
He keeps his fingers pumping slowly in and out of me as we start to kiss.
He brings me close to coming again a few times, just to tease me, but he keeps his focus on my lips— pulling my bottom one between his and sucking on it.
It’s messy and sloppy, edges of it blurred from the morning haze still over us.
“Harry.” I say into his mouth, legs shaking a little.
“Want you in me.” It comes out of me as an unbridled thought.
“Jesus…” he murmurs, stunned by hearing the words fly out of me so openly.
He pulls his lips away, cock twitching in my hand, “you want…”
“You want me to fuck you?”
I nod, grabbing the hem of my shirt and slipping it off.
He’s enamoured by me, it’s clear in his eyes.
He reaches his hand up, out of my sleep shorts and he cups my breast with it gently.
He moves his mouth down to place gentle kissed over them.
“You’re perfect, yknow that?” He says against my skin, tugging me closer to him as I smile at the flattery.
“I’m on birth control too.” I state.
He glances up, and it appears I’ve shocked him yet again, “you wanna take me raw?”
I haven’t gone without I condom in ages… but I trust him.
“We’re both clean, right? I trust you.”
He smiles, “I’m clean. As long as your sure.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of something.
He pulls my sleep shorts off, and I help shuck his sweats the rest of the way down his legs.
We’re warm between the sheets, and he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along my neck as he lines himself up with me.
He locks eyes with me as he pushes in, and both of us moan at the feeling.
“Fuck— you’re tight.” He squeezes his hands on my hips.
I am blinded with the pleasure of him filling me up, I can’t even think about how bad an idea this could be.
“Feels so good, H.” I groan, scraping my nails along his chest.
“Can feel you clenching around me.” He reaches a hand down to play with my clit.
He’s gonna make me come embarrassingly quick— especially considering he sort of edged me a bit while we were kissing.
He was thrusting into me, a perfect pace to have me squirming in his arms.
I can tell he’s getting close, my name flying out his mouth paired with vulgar words and moans.
“I- fuck- I’m not gonna be able to drag this out if you keeping squeezing m’cock like that.” He pants.
“I’m close, so just come with me.” I plead, the thought of him finishing with me adding fuel to the fire in the pit of my stomach.
“God H, I’m gonna come— hard.”
“Fuck, sweetheart, keep talking.” He says, his skin slapping into mine, chasing his orgasm.
“You’re so pretty.” I blurt, spewing the first thing that comes to mind as I look at him.
He really is, his hair is tousled from sleep and my hands, his eyes half lidded from pleasure and tattooed chest slightly damp.
He swears, bottoming out and coming hard without warning. His hand circles my clit fast, bringing my crashing down with him.
“Harry!” I cry, burying my head into the crook of his neck as I ride out the waves of pleasure.
“Good girl, Y/N.” He groans, still thrusting into me trying to prolong his orgasms.
The high slowly ebbs away, and he stays in me for a bit. Nothing but the sounds of our laboured breathing filling the room.
I think we don’t know what to say, after something like that happens— when it all comes on instinct and you’re without any clue on what it changes.
Our dynamic, though it was a love-hate kind of thing, it was a consistent one. You knew what to expect. Now that this has happened…
“I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.” He whispers, “and that kind of scares me.”
I lay quietly for a few heartbeats, “just… that was really good. And I’m not 100% prepared for what might happen after this, y’know. To us I guess.”
“Well. To keep it simple, I really like you— and that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had so…” he trails off, unsure where to go with the sentence.
“Ok— so this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship?” I sigh in a bit of relief.
“Of course not,” he pulls back to look at me, and a smile spreads across his face, “after all, we are adults.”
———
#best friend!harry#harry styles smut#best friends to lovers#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#fluff prompts#harry styles fanfiction#fanfiction#one direction#oneshots#1d#harries#love on tour#fbh#frat boy harry#prince hair harry
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Im not the best with ideas but likeeee omg for kinktober you should totally do size kink! I feel like Fred would be better for that because he seems the type to tease and be kinda mean that reader is like small and shorter than him but and also like he's shoulders are more broader than George's and it's like omg 😵💫 but you can do whichever twin you'd like im not picky lolz anywhooo just a little idea if you don't like this idea or don't feel comfortable I totally understand :) Have a great dayyyy!!<333
Pipsqueak
Fred Weasley x fem!reader
Warnings: not much of a plot, smut, fingering, intercourse, cursing
18+ only
~•~
Y/N was busy counting inventory when an arm flopped down on top of her head. "Hey there, pipsqueak," Fred teased. "You know, it's great how you double as my girlfriend and as an armrest."
"You're blocking my sun, skyscraper," she deadpanned and started her counting over.
"I'm sorry, what was that you said?" Her boyfriend cupped a hand to his ear. "I can't hear you from all the way down there."
Y/N ignored him and restarted her counting for a second time.
He flopped his other arm on top of the other and leaned against her. "I really should try to clone you as an armrest," he joked. "Sale them in the st -"
Y/N cut him off, whirling around to face him. "If you make me lose count one more time, I'm gnawing your fucking kneecaps off!"
"Ooh, somebody's feisty this afternoon," Fred grinned and pressed her against the wall. "I like it when you get feisty."
"Fred, I don't have time for this," she argued. She tried to slide around him, but his long arms pinned her in. Then, he slid a hand beneath her skirt. "Your pussy says otherwise. I think it's remembering how much fun it had last. How many times did you cum? Three, was it?"
Y/N bit her lip, holding back the moan that threatened to escape, then cleared her throat. "I need to get this done. I don't want to be here all night."
Her boyfriend moved closer, towering over her. "I'm the boss," he looked down at her, dominating her solely with the magnimity of his body. "And I say you should take a break." He pushed her panties to the side and shoved a finger inside her. "Now." She gasped, clenching around his finger, and her clipboard clattered to the floor. Fred smirked. Putty in my hands, he thought and began unbuttoning his pants.
His cock was rock hard and leaking precum. He pulled his finger out of her and spread her juices around the tip with a soft groan. "Up you go," he mummered in her ear, lifting her up with one arm and then sliding her down onto his cock in one fluid movement. Y/N moaned at the sensation, sending a quiver of pleasure straight to his dick. "Oh, fuck," he groaned in her ear, pumping into her with long, slow strokes, determined to enjoy every inch of her.
Using his weight to keep her against the wall, Fred let his hands roam all over her body. "Oh god, you feel so good," she gasped. "Fuck me harder, baby." He shifted slightly to spread his legs wider, allowing him to thrust into her with more power. She bit into his shoulder to muffle her scream as he buried his face in her neck, unable to stop the litany moans falling from his lips. The last thing they needed was someone walking in on them. Not that it would've mattered at that point anyway. They were both too far gone.
"I'm close," Y/N moaned.
"Me too, baby," he grunted, his hips slamming into hers. He slid his hand down to finger her sweet spot. "Fuck yes, Fred!" She cried out, pulsing around him and pulling him over the edge with her. He pushed deep, groaning, as he spilled himself inside her.
Fred leaned against Y/N, his forehead against hers while they caught their breath. "Still planning on gnawing my kneecaps off?"
"Nah, I'll let it slide," she grinned. "But just this once."
He chuckled, stepping back and easing her down to the floor. "Good?"
"Yeah," Y/N nodded, pushing down her crumpled skirt. "A bit better than good, actually."
"See, I told you, you needed a break," he said, then bent down to kiss her. "Damn love, you need to get some platform shoes or stilts or something before I throw my back out trying to give you a kiss," he teased, giving her a cheeky grin.
"Hey now!" She said, putting her hands on her hips. "You better watch what you say. Those kneecaps of yours are still in the danger zone."
~•~
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @charmedfandomgal @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw
#fred weasley#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut#hp fandom#hp universe
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Desperate for more Anton x reader smut…
OUUU OKAYYY!!! like I said in my last post...I'm still learning how to write smut so if it's bad pls tell me what I can do to fix it!!
Minors dni
Pairing: boyfriend!anton x tired!reader
⚠️warnings⚠️: fingering(f.recieving), oral(f.recieving), reader gets called baby and princess
Today kicked your ass. It was like EVERYTHING went wrong. You woke up....you fell in the shower. You went to get morning coffee...you got stuck in line and ran later for class. You had a presentation today and stuttered the whole way through. All you want to do right now is go home and snuggle with your boyfriend. (ALSO UNPOPULAR OPINION: snuggling>>>>cuddling) As you get in your car you see a text from your amazing boyfriend.
Ant💍🤭: Hey love, I miss you so much. Are you on your way home yet?
Y/n: yeah I just got in the car I can't wait to see you! 💖
You start the car and drive home
(time skip to when you're home)
You unlock the door and literally as soon as you do anton envelopes you in a warm hug. "I missed you so much baby!!" He says as he guides you to the couch. "Missed you too." You whisper as you watch him grab you some water. "How was your day?" You just stare for a second as he asks. You two tell each other everything. He seemed so happy but you didn't want to ruin the mood. "It was good." you say forcing a smile. Anton's smile drops and he walks over to you and passes you the water. "Y/n, what's wrong. I can tell when you're lying." He was right. He probably knew you better than you even knew yourself! "It's just...I had a really bad day. I was late to school and I fucked up my presentation. I feel like a failure." You frown and put your head down. Anton uses his hand and puts your chin up "you're not a failure love, it was just one presentation no need to worry." He places a kiss on your lips. He couldn't help it! You look so beautiful right now.
"I love you." You say as you passionately kiss him. You wish oxygen wasn't a necessity or else you two would've been like this all night. Anton moves down and kisses your neck as he plays with one of your boobs. You moan as he lightly pinches your nipple and plays with it in his hand. After leaving multiple marks on your neck, he finally puts one of your boobs in his mouth as he plays with the other one. "I love you so much baby" Anton says. You can feel a wet spot forming your panties as he continues playing with your boobs. Anton moves down your body kissing your tummy.
He gets between your legs and kisses your pretty thighs getting extremely close to your pussy. He uses his thumb to play with you through your panties a bit. You whimper at the touch. He takes off your panties and dives straight in. He licked a thick stripe up your pussy and nibbled at your clit. "Oh my God baby I love this pussy so much" he says while in your pussy. He stick two of his fingers inside you as he continues to eat you out. You moan out at the sudden thickness inside you. He pumps his fingers in and out of you. " I'm close baby!" You yell. "cum on my tongue princess." You do as he says and he gets up to hug you.
"you did so amazing love." He says as he helps you catch your breath. He runs you a hot bubble bath and lays you out some pajamas and y'all go to bed.💖💖💖
SORRY IF THIS WAS KINDA BAD TOO!!! LIKE I SAID IM STILL KINDA LEARING HOW TO WRITE SMUT SO😭😭 LMK WHAT YALL WANNA SEE NEXT THO MY REQUESTS ARE OPENNNNN<333
#anton x reader#riize anton#anton smut#anton imagines#riize hard hours#riize smut#riize imagines#riize x reader#🐿️ writes anton#🐿️ writes riize
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Because you’re mine.{chapter 4}
Previous chapter next chapter
Paring: Bang chan + ot8 x afab reader
Rating: explicit
Genre: smut, mafia au
Warnings: or4l (fem rec), v4ginal, mentions of murd*r
Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @queenmea604 @salfetkablog @hyunlixs-wife0309
Please dm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^
!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!
It’s the morning after I killed Felix. I slept in Chan’s room for the night while the corpse got disposed of and cleaned off the carpet. “Mmm.. you sleep okay after last night?” Chan groans, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I. I’m still sorry..” I mumble, I feel my cheeks flush red as he wraps his hands around my waist. “For the last time it’s fine. We have to clean up bodies all the time it’s no big deal.” He sighs. “O-oh.. okay.” I pull a slight smile, hoping it’ll fuck off from my mind soon.
“Shit.” I hear Chan mutter under his breath. “Hm?” Oh. Oh my. My eyes widen and the blush on my cheeks grow as I feel something hard pressing against my thigh. “Im so fucking sorry you’re seeing me like this. It’s early in the morning so.. you know.” He rests his face in his palms clearly embarrassed at how his body is reacting right this moment, especially with me lying against him. “Ghh fuck.. could you m-maybe.. mmgh. Could you maybe help me out here?” He asks me, face flushed and embarrassed. “Y-you don’t have to I was just seeing if you know, wanted something out of it too.”
“Sure.” I reply, feeling myself grow wet between my thighs, I’m not wearing panties at all due to them being ripped to shreds. Chan smirks, lifting the sheet off his bed and running his forefinger down my folds, my wetness sticking to his fingers. “shit. May I taste you?” He questions, bringing his head down to my crotch, wanting for my response. I nod. “So wet for me..” he groans, holding my legs open as he thrusts his tongue into my hole, his top teeth grazing my clit as he begins to eat me out like a whole fucking meal. “Chan.. ah..” i moan, my hand reaching down to push his head more into my cunt as he continues to devour it like a starving man going at the last slice of bread.
“You taste so sweet baby..” he starts eating me out more aggressively now, making me buck my hips into his face for more of his mouth.
“I want to touch you..” I pout, moving his head away from me. I palm him through his boxers hearing him curse as I feel his leaking bulge. “Please. I’m so god damn hard right now it’s insane.” He begs, pulling his boxers down. I watch as his hard cock springs up. Immediately I wrap my hand around it, beginning to pump it. I bring my head forward and lick the precum off his tip. My other hand running down to rub my cunt as I get him off at the same time. “Fuck yes.. on your back. Now. Need to feel your tight little pussy around my dick” he moans. I obey his request, taking off my shirt too so I’m fully nude on my back with my legs open. I watch as he rolls the condom on his dick before positioning it at my entrance. “Chan please..” I sob, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pushes into me.
“Fuck you’re tighter than I expected.” He bites his lip from all the pleasure he’s feeling in this moment. He begins to pump his hips faster and faster, his dick reaching spots I never have touched before, he’s so deep in me it feels so good.. “K-kiss me please.. need your lips on mine.” I blush. “Anymore requests, princess?” He smirks at me, bringing his lips to mine and kissing me deeply as out tongues tangle together. “I’m gonna cum soon..” I warn him, my cunt beginning to clench around his length as I make my release. He cums after, filling the condom up almost immediately before pulling out and disposing of it correctly.
“Put these on, we’ll miss breakfast.” Chan says, sighing as he gives me some loose shorts to wear with his shirt that he gave me last night.
I get changed then follow Chan to the dinning table for breakfast.
I take a seat next to Chan once again. I try to keep my gaze off everyone due to one of them being.. well, dead. “So is it true?” One of the boys say, Changbin. “Is what true?” I scoff at him, not wanting to talk after the Felix incident that happened last night. “Is it true that you killed Felix?” He asks, getting up from his chair and walking behind me, randomly leaving a little delicate kiss on my collarbone. “Changbin. Dont. You can play with her later.” Chan sighs, holding up a butter knife to Changbin’s face, as if he was threatening him almost.
“P-play with.. me?” I turn to whisper to Chan. Wondering if he wants to see me getting used by his friends. “If you give them want they want they most likely won’t want to hurt you. Trust me. These guys are basically brothers to me.” He reassures me, rubbing my back to calm down my nerves that are sending warning signals to my brain. “Show me your tits.” Han says randomly, causing my face to flush at the sudden demand. “W-what?” I ask.
“I wanna see your tits.” He smirks. “Just do it yeah? I’ll reward you with my thick cock later..” Chan whispers in my ear. I immediately decide to lift up my shirt, not wanting to miss out on how good Chan felt inside me a second time. “Oh wow..” Han grins, walking over and taking one of my nipples into his mouth. “W-what are you.. nngh..” I moan at the sudden feeling of his tongue swirling around the swollen bud. “Damn she’s hot.” I hear Seungmin say under his breath. Not long after Han pulls away. I go back to Chan’s room and just sleep for the whole day, still recovering mentally from last night
#~skulla rxcks#stray kids smut#skz smut#kpop smut#bang chan smut#bangchan smut#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#han jisung smut#han smut
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I’ve known Ona for years now, have been best friends since we were kids. Well to her at least, i was always in love with this girl. Always the bright sunshine of my life. But I was just her best friend, her bro, her platonic friend.
When she dating guys, I decided to turn to other things to distract myself. The hole I had in my heart that had been filled with love for her had to be filled instead with lust for others. I was constantly on tiktok watching thirst traps, trying to forget her.
Ona had started maturing into herself, being more confident, and well “growing” in other areas.
She started dressing less like the girl I loved and more like the girsl I lusted for.
Guy came and went, but the last one would be the storm that would finally break her. Her last boyfriend had cheated and she found out, they had broken up.
When I asked if she was okay, she sounded devastated, like her world was crashing down.
“Why does this keep happening? Is it me? Is something wrong with me?”
Remembering my unrequited love and my place as the best friend, I had to console her
“I’d never cheat on you if i were him, he was crazy to go for another woman, you’re so h-”
Caught myself before possibly turning my friendship weird. No way i could call her hot, how could I? Id have to explain that I was attracted to her, not as her best friend but more.
“i’m so what? Don’t be the next guy to lie to me too, You’re all I have left”
“You’re so… hot…”
Didn’t realise those words would send her spiralling, but in a different way
Only minutes later, I get a video of Ona, dancing just like the girls she knew I liked
“You always watch thirst traps right? on tiktok?”
“yeah but why did yo-“
“Am I hot? Hotter than the girls you always watch?”
I didn’t realise how much this meant to her
“I’ll be yours, just don’t look at anyone else, I don’t want it to happen again”
“Lets meet”
I don’t think we said more than 5 words. We drowned in each others pleasure. Skin to skin, body to body. We shared sweat, saliva, fluids more than we did words. We had known each other for forever, we didn’t need words to know what we wanted.
Every thrust, every pump filled Ona with what she thought was lust. Position after position, round after round, condom after condom. Then there was no more
“we ran out of condoms, maybe we should stop”
But she put me back inside of her
“Keep going, don’t stop, show me”
She wanted to be loved, but she’ll settle for lust, he had broken her, and I was all she had to fill that emptiness
“Please don’t stop”
But I loved her, I always have, and the thought that another person had hurt her this way, broke my heart.
“Wait if we keep going, ill-”
But it was too late, loving Ona, and being inside her, makes you a different person. It’s Ona after all, who could resist her.
“I’m- I’m gon- Im gonna cu”
Her walls clenched around me, encouraging me to fill her. Who am I to deny that? Her legs wrapping around me was the last straw. Missionary, no escape, no turning back. This was my chance to prove to her it wasn’t lust, it was years and years of love.
With one last thrust, I released it. Ropes painted her walls, filling her with my seed. Neither of us moved, filled with ecstasy. All that was moving was me still filling her up, her still clenching as she came harder as if my cum was a drug keeping her from calming down and our breathing.
“I’m sorry, I was just lonely and you were always so nice to me and”
Ona went on and on, same old same old, always spiralling after an event
I leaned in and kissed her on the lips. A soft one, not one out of lust but out of love.
“Stop, if I didn’t already like you, I wouldn’t stick by every bad decision you made”
That night was years ago now.
I had deleted tiktok, no more need for thirst traps
Ona stopped spiralling, she had me to keep her steady
and we stopped being best friends, instead we had become lovers. Active lovers. All it takes now is for Ona to send a video of her dancing to one of the trends on tiktok, for me to head to our nearest 7-11 to get a few protection items and we relive that night, over and over.
Although, we have been using condoms less and less, maybe we should look into baby items. Eh who cares, nothing a married couple can’t handle :)
My First actually story post! Thanks for reading! Little different from my usual reblogs and more immoral stuff. A wholesome one for a wholesome girl :)
Thanks to @ayyitsona for the request, pics and video are from her too. Check her out, you won’t be disappointed.
Story is purely fiction and only for fun. Send in your requests if you want one too! Dms open :)
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Profiling Me part 2
Look I know it's been years. Im finally getting to this. 🤷♀️ if anyone's still interested here you go.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x OFC
Warnings: Smut, light sir kink
"I'm so ready to sleep in my own bed." JJ said as we walked into the office to finish up the paperwork from our case.
"Oh man me too." I laughed. "Hey, if you want, I can just finish it all up. Get home to your boys JJ." I offered. I didn't mind finishing up the paperwork so she could get home to her family after the long week we've had.
"Are you sure, Hannah?" She asked.
"Yes Ma'am. Go see your family and get some sleep." I smiled, taking the papers from her with a smile and sitting down to my desk.
"Thank you." She smiled as he turned to leave.
"Have a good night, JJ." Hotch said when he passed her on his was to his office. She gave me a small smile before disappearing into his office.
When I finished the paperwork, I looked up to see I was the only one left in the bullpen. Aaron was still in his office though, of course. Always had to be the last one to leave.
I pushed myself up from the chair and headed up the stairs to his office. The door was open but I knocked anyway.
"Do you ever go home?" I laughed.
He smiled. "I was actually just about to head out."
"Ok I won't keep you. Just dropping this off." I said, setting the papers down on his desk.
"Have a good night." I said, heading back towards the door.
"Hannah, wait." He said, standing from his desk. When I turned back around he was leaning back against the front of his desk, head ducked slightly.
"I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other day. I crossed a line, it was unprofessional of me." He said.
"It's alright, Hotch." I smiled.
"Are you sure? I don't-" I cut him off.
"Yes, sir." I smirked. His eyes snapped up to mine and he had a puzzled look on his face.
I pushed the door shut before slowly walking over to him.
"It's quite alright, sir." I said, stopping just a foot in front of him.
"Hannah." He paused, seeming the smallest amount of flustered at the situation. "You shouldn't call me that." I looked into his eyes and his pupils were blown with lust.
"But what if I want to?" I placed a hand on his chest, the other fiddling with his tie. I don't know where the confidence came from but I was happy for it.
Next thing I knew, his hands were gripping my waist and his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily. I moved my arms up around his neck, my hands finding his hair. He moaned softly as I ran my fingers through it. I pressed my body into his as his hands slid down to my ass. He pulled away from my lips, finding them a new place on my neck.
"Are you sure about this?" He asked between each kiss.
"Yes." I moaned softly when his lips found the most sensitive spot of my neck. His hand came down and smacked my ass.
"Yes what?" He said sternly.
"Yes, sir." I moaned. My hands worked to pull his tie off followed by his jacket. His fingers worked the buttons of my blouse, throwing it to the floor.
He kissed down my neck to my chest as he helped me rid him of his shirt. My hands explored his chest as he expertly removed my bra. He lifted me by my thighs and walked us over to his desk chair, sitting us down so I was straddling him. His mouth went to work on my chest and my hands found their place on his shoulders.
He looked up to me as he swirled his tongue around my nipple before sucking it into his mouth. I dug my nails into his shoulders as I moaned softly. He bucked his hips up, grinding against me. I snaked one hand down to start working on his belt. When it and his pants were undone, he pulled away from me.
"Get on your knees." He husked. I obeyed, kneeling in front of him. He stood and pushed his pants and boxers down his legs. I bit my lip and took a moment to take in the sight of him above me. I wouldn't say he was huge but he'd definitely get the job done.
I looked up at him as I took his length in my hand, pumping it a few times before taking it into my mouth. He groaned as a bobbed my head a few times, swirling my tongue around the tip. His hand tangled into my hair.
"Can I?" He asked and I hummed around his cock.
He thrusted shallowly into my mouth for a moment.
"Damn, your mouth feels so good. Want to feel the rest of you." He said, pulling out of my mouth. He helped me back to my feet before pushing back against the desk and sinking to his knees. He hiked my skirt up, slowly kissing his way up my thighs. His places a soft kiss over my soaked panties, making the breath catch in my throat.
"Hm. Already so wet for me princess." He hummed. My fingers played softly with his hair and his pulled the garment down my legs, still softly kissing my thighs.
He kissed over my pubic bone before he pulled one of my legs over his shoulder and licked a stripe through my folds. His tongue flicked over my clit before he sucked it into his mouth. A hand slid up my other thigh before a finger teased at my entrance. He slowly pressed the digit inside, causing me to moan. He pumped the finger inside of me a few times before adding another, curling them inside of me while his mouth worked on my clit.
The tension built quickly in my stomach.
"Aaron I'm so close." I moaned.
He pulled his mouth away for a moment.
"Tell me what you want." He purred before going back to work.
"I want to come, sir." I moaned and he sped his movements. My fingers tangled in his hair as I came on his face. He worked me through the high before standing, wiping his face on the back of his hand.
"Turn around, bend over." He commanded. I did as I was told, pressing my body to the cold desk.
"Fuck. I don't have a condom." He groaned.
"I-I'm clean. And I have an iud" I stated.
"I'm clean too. Are you sure?" He asked, rubbing his hand across my back.
"Yes. Please fuck me, sir. I need you." I begged.
He plunged himself inside of me with no warning, but stilled so I could adjust. His hands gripped my hips as he pulled back and began thrusting. I moaned as he pounded into me at an unrelenting pace.
"Fuck, you feel so good." He groaned. He continued his pace for a few moments when his pace started to falter. He dipped his hand around my body down to my clit. Working my clit with his fingers as he plowed into me.
"Come for me princess." That was all I needed to crash down again around his cock in a moaning mess.
He thrusted a few more times before pulling out. He stroked himself a few times before he came on my back
"Wow." He panted. He grabbed a tissue, wiping the fluid from my back and helped me stand up.
"You could say that again." I smiled as I found my clothes and getting dressed.
"You know, Jack's at a friends house tonight. Round two at my place?" He asked as he buttoned his shirt.
I smiled up at him. "See you there. Sir."
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False accusations
modern!au
pairing modern!abby anderson × f/reader
characters; reader*, abby anderson, readers parent(s). ellie williams (mentioned), owen moore (mentioned),
Cw: strong language, some plot, some p*rn, arguments/accusations, suggested infidelity (cheating), mentions of owen
Im kinda rusty so please be kind(I AM SO SORRY ITS SO LONG )
‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾
It had been a long day. Woke up early, got ready for work, got to work, didn't have any breaks, then went to my ex's, and got home later than I wanted to. Which would definitely cause some problems with Abby. Oh, boy... I wasn't ready for the arguing and accusations. But maybe she was already asleep.
And mad at me.
Fuuuuck.
I slipped the key into the lock, slowly turning them to unlock the door, sneaking in with caution and ease. Something I've been good at since... Forever, I guess.
The coast was clear. No lights on, no tv shows playing, no music, no nothing. I let out a sigh of relief, fist pumping the air in excitement. I would rather Abs be asleep and mad at me instead of awake and arguing. She never really liked me being out late anyways unless she was there.
Flick. A light turned on, casting a big, mean shadow.
Oh fuck. No, no, no.
"Did you have fun out today?" Abby stood im the hallway, her shadow looming over me. She was beyond pissed. I did not need to look at her to know, I could feel and hear it. "Meet up with some friends?"
*What?" | dropped my bag on the floor and hung up the keys,
"Abby, I've been at work since morning. What're you on about?" turning to her with a confused look.
*You work from nine in the morning to seven at night."
"Yeah?"
"It's almost ten, Y/N! Where were you?" Abby marched over to me, crossing her huge arms across her chest and glaring down at me.
"Abby, I don't have time for this. I was getting a few things from my mom, that's all.” I partially lied. I wasn't with my mom but I was retrieving some of my belongings from my ex.
"Yeah? Or were you out fucking Ellie?"
I gave her a disgusted look, shaking my head at her. Not because of who she said I was with but because of her accusation. She knows I would never cheat on her. Not now, not ever. Why would she even think that?
"Fucking, excuse me?"
"Does this look familiar?" Abby pulled up a photo of me and Ellie speaking to one another, fiddling with our hands, a nervous smile present on both parties lips, "Owen sent me a photo of you two together.
My eyes snapped up to hers, now raging at the name coming out of her mouth, "fucking, who!? Owen!?" | scoffed, rolling my eyes at her and shaking my head, "why's he still in your contacts? Why do you have his number?"
"Don't turn the tables on me, Y/N. Answer me."
At that point, I was already fed up with her bullshit, waving my hand in her face as I walked down the hall to our shared bedroom. Abby chased me down, hot on my heels.
"Fuck you, Abigail."
"Fuck me? No, Y/N, fuck you!" Abby's voice cracked a bit, not because she was crying but because she had been raising her voice at me and she hated doing so.
I scoffed at her rebuttal and tried to slam the door but abby caught it with her foot just in time, "The reason I have his number is so he can take my shifts like how i did for our anniversary!"
I rolled my eyes and scoffed again “ Yeah right how do i know that you haven’t been fucking behind my back then!” Abby had a pained look on her face.
“Do you seriously think that i would cheat on you? After everything!” Abby swung the door open so roughly it shook the wall. “Of course not but why would you think i would do that to you? Especially since you know how my last relationship ended and how badly it fucked me up!”
My eyes were tearing up as i remember how badly it hurt when i walked in on Ellie and Dina on our anniversary a few years back. Abby sighed and rubbed her face with her hands in an attempt to calm down.
“I-i look I shouldn’t have accused you. I guess I was just scared that you’d leave me for her or something and I shouldn’t have listened to Owen for all we know he’s just trying to stir up drama. I'm sorry.” Abby looked down while rubbing the back of her neck.
“I’m sorry I tried to flip it back to you, the truth is i was just getting some of my old stuff back it was just stuff i didn’t have the balls to get back yet.” I pulled out small photos of my childhood and some souvenirs and pins.
“I know it doesn’t look like much but these mean alot to me.” Abby pulled me into a hug and kept me there “oh baby, I’m sorry but why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve gotten that stuff for you or helped.”
My face buried in her chest i sighed “ i wanted to do it myself not burden you. You already do so much for me anyway.” I wipe my face with my sleeve as i break the hug
“How about i reward you for being so brave and to make it up to you too .” Abby holds me by my waist and looks me in the eyes. “That sound good princess?” I nod eagerly and wrap my arms around her neck.
“Yeah, that sounds really good.” I squealed as she picked me up and took me to the edge of the bed. Abby pulled me into a steamy kiss and laid me down as she crawled on top of me never breaking the kiss.
‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚
My chest pressed down against the sheets as one hand propped onto my hip while the other was rubbing up and down my spine. "Aren't you just the prettiest girl, huh baby?" Abby teases me her breath right on my neck.
My mouth hangs open, just at the thought of her lips on where i most need her. I can feel Abby smirk at how reactive I am to her touch and how I arch my back into her. Then that familiar, intoxicating feeling of me stretching at Abby's girth, drew out a light whimper from my lips.
"You're doin' so good baby taking me like the slut you are." Abby covers my body with hers and i can feel her chest on my back as she starts to move. Her relentless pace that she set was mind numbing to the point that i was drooling at the sensation.
The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping, Abby groaning, and my pornographic moans. Abby's large hands pushed my head down into the pillow, muffling me so her own sounds of pleasure were heard. She even seemed to be slowing her pace, one hand slipping down to my hip while the other tug my head up by my hair, lips nearing my ear.
"God baby you're grippin me so tight, I can barely move." a thin sheen of sweat covers both of our bodies. My juices forming a ring at the base of Abby's strap, the sounds the strap going in and out of me are deafening, yet so satisfying to hear on repeat.
"Abby, please," was all I could say, begging her to just ruin me.
"Please what, baby? Use your words, don't be shy now." I whimpered at her teasing, aching for all of her. I can feel a coil in my stomach tighten even more and i give in. "Please Abby let me cum, please please please!"
Abby coos and quickens her pace. Her grip becomes bruising as she shows no mercy pounding into me. "There you go baby. You sound so pretty when you beg, go ahead princess cum, you've earned it." Abby whispers through gritted teeth as she pressed her mouth to my ear.
The coil snapped and my body froze momentarily, a small shiver taking over, my eyes rolling back, and moans that ended up increasing in volume came out of my voice box. Abby didn't even stop there, still thrusting into me so I could ride out my high.
“There you go, such a pretty slut for me huh?” Abby’s thrusts slowed as she starts soothing me with gentle hands. A clear contrast of her seconds before. My hands go to hold abby’s hand on my hip and i start rubbing shapes into the back of her hand.
“I think you really made it up to me abs.” Abby slides out of me with a small chuckle leaning into my back. Abby leans up to kiss the back of my neck. “What do you say we take a nice relaxing bath right now, princess?”
I turn as much as i can to look at her, a sex drunk smile on my lips. “Mmmmm that would be amazing.”
‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･༓☾‧͙⁺˚･
#abby anderson smut#the last of us#ellie the last of us#abby x you#muscle mommy abby#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abigail anderson#tlou part 2#tlou fic#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#tlou#tlou x reader#fanfic#smut#saturn 🪐 writes#abby Angst#abby x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader
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Hello love 🖤
Can I request Pietro playing a game with tangerine and lemon? Maybe truth or dare, or cards and tangerine is losing his shit 🍊
Love you 💕
hehhe I love this sm!! I did this as my thoughts, just as I couldn’t figure out how I would write it. also I put your other ask on this post too, it’s at the bottom. love you!! 💌
also im sorry idk how I only just saw that it said pietro ?!? I wrote this a few days ago, and I quickly read this over before posting and did not see pietro until just now 😶 my bad, ive been a scatterbrain lately
monopoly has been tearing families apart for decades !! so it will definitely be the same when you play with the twins
im thinking that you like to have game nights when you all have time to spare, maybe on weekends and you'd all be sat at the dining table. def having a couple beers with crisps, pretzels, nuts
you're all really competitive and are ruthless when it comes to games, especially monopoly!!! lem always seems to do really well, landing on all the good properties and snatching them right up. definitely cackles when he counts his cash and looks over his cards
tan would be such a sore loser, and gets really pissy bc he always lands on the shit places and/ or on lem's houses and hotels. he'd throw the money, maybe make a point about how he has none left, "fuckin' hell man, ya robbin' me,"
maybe you gave up playing properly hours ago, sipping on your drink, far too entertained watching them bicker. maybe you roll casually and the number would be on the last card tan needs to complete his set. he'd ask you not to buy it, saying he'll give you all his other cards AND money, "I will give you my strand and my last 50 quid, just please don't buy it,"
you'll be nice and leave it until lem comes around and snatches it up, snickering as he sets his cash down to pay. he'll be like, "come on mate, it's just a game," only he's winning and dominating the board
it would end with you playing on your phone, tapped out the game as they continue fighting. new rules would be added after every turn and tan would be in heaps of debt - constantly borrowing money from the bank to give to lem when he lands on his properties
tan would still be convinced he can win, and lem would just be entertaining it.. until hours go by, and lem decides to call a truce, offering a rematch next week
maybe it ends in a game of uno at the coffee table to rewind - only it's the same story again, ruthlessly slapping +4 on top of +4. he'd end up with half the deck of cards. BUT he'd give you all a run for your money for casino games though
I think he'd be a great uncle while simultaneously being an awful brother !! he'd let his niece do things she wanted, knowing that lem wouldn't be happy. she wants to eat ice cream before dinner? two scoops won't hurt. she wants to go to the toy shop and get even more toys? no problem, uncle tan has his cards at the ready. she wants to watch tv before bed? one episode is okay surely
tho he won't always go over his brother's head, bc he respects him - but sometimes he just can't help it, he loves to spoil
he'd begrudgingly let her do his makeup. she'd be bossy, making him sit and be quiet as she brushes on purple eye shadow and crazy amounts of blush. she'd also want him to join in with her tea party, or play make-believe/ princesses with her, he'd have no choice but to play along and smile while wearing the tiara
like lem, I feel like she'd be very loud and quite full-on, so when there's finally a moment of silence, he savours it. she'd probably knock herself out from all playing and would just curl up at his side
towards the end of babysitting, tan would probs make her super hyper just to annoy lem tehe. maybe pump her full of sugar or spin her around for ages
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