#and u know what i wrote it im standing with it and tagging it

[sunrizef1]

Try Again Pt.2

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: None

A/N: wrote this while sick so it took a while sorry

Pt.1

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INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by judebellingham landonorris and 21,080,321 others

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user1 she’s so pretty

user2 WHERES LEWIS

user3 where is she???

user4 she tagged England on her ig story a few days ago but there’s some pap photos that say Monaco

user5 she’s so hot dude

landonorris six glasses for u n who???

liked by yourusername

landonorris don’t just like my comment you bitch

liked by yourusername

user6 I miss dad

user7 beautiful

user8 would it be enough if I could never give you peace… 😭😭😭

user9 the way these lyrics have nothing to do with the post 😒

user8 I just miss Lewis girl 🙄

user10 maybe we just leave them alone… just an idea

charlesleclerc 🇲🇨🤩

yourusername thought this was a compliment for me but then realized ur just in love with Monaco

charlesleclerc you can’t change me 🤷‍♂️

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by landonorris jackharlow and 28,008,981 others

yourusername 🇲🇨🌊☀️

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user11 LEWIS

user12 TARGET ACQUIRED 🎯

user13 FOUND HIM

user14 Lewis i know that’s you

user15 you don’t have to hide his face girl… we won’t hurt him

user16 his apology better have been pretty fucking grand

user17 why???

user18 vibes say he fucked up

user19 not to mention the shit he pulled with that ig model after the breakup

landonorris I’m gonna find you

yourusername ???

landonorris lock your doors

f1gossip 🤭

user20 I’m not sure about this one…

user22 bad vibes bad vibes

user23 I’m so glad they’re back together

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by landonorris rubendias and 16,098,234 others

yourusername back home ✈️🇬🇧

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user24 girl what happened with you and Lewis???

user25 r u okay girl???

user26 I feel so bad for her

user27 what’d he doooooo

landonorris answer ur phone nerd

user28 puppy 😍

user29 is she from England???

user30 no but she’s lived there for a rly long time, it’s how she met Lewis and Lando

charles_leclerc my love ❤️

yourusername again, I’d be flattered if you didn’t mean the dog

charles_leclerc I ❤️ your dog

user31 if you wanna keep me, you gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta love me harder 😭

user32 all my homies hate Lewis Hamilton

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story!

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liked by lewishamilton taylorswift and 98,009,873 others

yourusername if you wanna keep me

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user33 THEYRE BACK

user34 this better stay this time

user35 love me harder caption???

user36 SO WHAT DO I DO IF I CANT FIGURE IT OUT

user35 YOUVE GOT TO TRY TRY TRY AGAIN

user37 SO WHAT DO I DO IF I CANT FIGURE IT OUT

user38 IM GONNA LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE AGAIN

lewishamilton 🖤

yourusername 🖤

user39 awwww (I think)

user40 where’s Lando

landonorris CALL ME NOW PLEASE

yourusername can’t, with my bf

landonorris since bf stands for best friend your a liar because im nowhere near you

yourusername lonely

landonorris 😠

_______

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername landonorris and 83,092,876 others

lewishamilton ive gotta love you harder

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user41 the lyrics in the caption, ok thoughtful

user42 we love a man with the ability to remember the lyrics to a song he was on

user43 SLAYINGGGGGG

landonorris boo 🍅🍅🍅

lewishamilton ???

landonorris what r ur intentions with my daughter

yourusername I'm older than you

landonorris boo 🍅🍅🍅

user44 I missed them

user45 they're so adorable

user46 🥳🥳🥳

user47 love them

user48 I know Lewis did something to cause that breakup and the re-breakup but she seems so much happier with him

yourusername love you 🖤

lewishamilton love you too 🖤

user49 PARENTSSSS

____________________

Tags: @sunny44

[coolaboutlucy]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨

pairing: nepo baby!business owner!ellie williams x afab!business owner!reader

tags: smut, fingering (r receiving), pet names/name calling?? (dirty girl, pretty, good girl, baby), slight praise??, god why is tagging so hard, mild language, unethical business practices??, thoughts are green, ellie lowk an asshole, but both reader and ellie are pretty harsh to eachother, maybe that’s it, bare with me if i forget something pls. 😭🙏

a/n: i wrote this directly on tumblr bc i did NAWT feel like pulling up google docs today saur the format might be a lil off. i was watching this show on netflix called ‘locked up’, and like an episode from season two is what inspired this!!! 😜 the show is good honestly it just drags on sometimes!!! ive actually never actually written smut any times before this (believe it or not hehe) anyways, let’s get into it!!!

P.S - DEDICATED TO @sweetysaccharine YAWP YAWP!!!! <333 HOPE U ENJOY POOKIEEEE

P.P.S - don’t look at the typos or i will find you (IM JOKING)

rumors traveled fast, and sometimes it wasn’t always good. for one, they could be infuriating. a company you’d been toe to toe with for.. quite some time had gotten a new ceo. some young girl. articles appeared online about some kinda nepotism scandal. the photo on the top of the article displayed a photo of the previous ceo — joel miller, and the new owner, ellie. they looked happy. but why were they accused of something as harmful as nepotism? long story short, joel turned his brother down for the position (even though he was the better option) so ellie could have it. favoritism of sorts. but god was she infuriating! her stupid, flashy displays of wealth (that probably didn’t even belong to her) made you so mad! and also, her arrogance and her constant need to compete with you was very infuriating aswell. you had influence, she had money. wouldn’t these things be considered as a double kill in some perfect world? yes. would you ever even consider working with someone like her? absolutely not. you couldn’t even stand being in the same vicinity as her whenever you two ended up at the same social events.

imagine that terrible, ugly feeling of anger that coursed hot through your veins once finding out she’d brought possibly one of the biggest clients you could’ve ever had. it was one thing for her to shove it in your face that she was wealthy but this? she’d completely overstepped. storming your way through the companies large building, you find yourself at her offices door knocking like a madwoman. “open the goddamn door, williams!” you yell as you attempt to open the door on your own. she doesn’t say anything, but you’re just almost certain she’s smirking or something. she opens the door with this.. look. it was weird. a perfect mixture of condescending, arrogance, and ‘i know what i did and i don’t regret it’. “are you insane?” “mm.. yeah. i guess so.” you laugh, dumbfounded by her. “how bout you come into my office for a seat and a drink?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “let’s handle this civilly, shall we? knowing you, i have the feeling that this could get real ugly.” she pushed open the door with that same condescending/arrogant smile. of course, reluctantly, you walk inside. maybe this could be resolved civilly.

the sound of some smooth music played. it sounded like micheal buble or something. she walks around her desk to pour you a glass of bourbon. she hands it to and you just hold it. “it’s not poisoned, see?” she says before taking a sip. you take a sip and of it before putting the glass on her desk. “so, i realized that.. i have something you want.” the something being that client. “why else would i be here? that was a really petty move and you know that.” she chuckled. “yknow, i could just.. refer them back to you.” initially, you’re in disbelief. ellie? being generous? no way. she must’ve completely lost it. “but! it comes with a price.” of course it does. nothing was free, not in this economy. you kept your expectations low for this very reason. you raise an eyebrow at her. “we could work together. become business partners.”

she turns her music up a little. she dances her way over to you, circling you a bit. “no chance, ellie. how could i ever work with someone like you?” she chuckled again. “why wouldn’t you work with ‘someone like me’? you have something that i want aswell.” “what?” “power. influence. however you may wanna word it. i admire that.” it had to be some sick joke. why would she wanna work with you? “shouldn’t all your daddys money be more than enough to keep you in a position of power?” you quarry, then crossing your arms. a part of you didn’t believe that she’d been the one asking you for help.

“just think about it. me, giving you money. you, drawing power hungry clients in with that pretty face of yours. we’d work together like yin and yang.” she proposed before taking another sip of the drink in her glass. that was her giving a go at an analogy. was it good? she didn’t know. did she care? not at all. “you bullshitting me, williams?” “not at all. all you gotta do.. is say ‘yes’. cmon.” she offers her hand, those pretty slender fingers and that tattoo that peeking from underneath that black button up shirt were just so.. enticing. you were in your head, just thinking. was this a good idea? could i trust her? she probably has bad intentions. but she was so tempting. this had to be one of the seven deadly sins or something.

she snaps infront of your face. “where’d you go?” she asks. “nowhere.” you respond quickly. “so, you taking the offer or not? or.. will i have to convince you?” she takes a step closer to you. temptation taints your brain.

you’re not in control of your thoughts anymore. ellie was.

her hand seeks solace on your waist. “shouldn’t finding business like this be considered illegal?” you whisper to her. “im not a law abiding woman. and quite frankly, i don’t give two shits.” maybe it wouldn’t be illegal if nobody knew. but all you thought about was her. how she smells. how she’s looking at you. how her hands feel on your body. you can’t stop yourself. your lips crash down onto hers. your fingers tangle in her auburn hair as the both of you kiss passionately. she brings you to her desk, knocking stuff over as she sat you on her desk.

glass shattered, pictures were knocked out of their frames, and her computer mouse was.. somewhere. your back arches into her touch as you let out a soft moan into her mouth. she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. in the competition of dominance between your tongues, she reigns supreme. her hands slide up your body and end up on your oxford button up shirt. she doesn’t unbutton it, she rips that shit open. “i’ll get you a new one.” she mumbled as the buttons from the shirt scatter across the room.

“you’d better. or else id have to come back here and get it by force.” “oh please, you’ll be back here for more reasons than a goddamn shirt.” she said as she peppers kisses down to your jawline, then your neck. “don’t leave any marks.” “but why?” “oh, i dunno, cause i don’t want anyone asking me who i had sex with?” “who gives a shit? your workers get paid to look the other way, don’t they?”

well, she makes a good point. and you can’t argue with a point as valid as that. she sinks her teeth into a sweet spot of your neck, making you moan out as she runs her tongue along the new mark. she sticks her tongue out again to run it all the way down to one of your boobs. the sensation makes you shiver. “wore this pretty bra for me, didntcha? you were just expecting this. you must’ve wanted me to touch you like this, didn’t you? dirty girl. must’ve been waiting for me to bend you over this table.” she rambled all while stripping you of your bra, then leaving soft kisses and licks across the valley of your breasts.

she takes her time, making you wait for it. she knew what she was doing to you, and she was going to make you wait. “ellie, you’re going soo slow! you know what i want.” you whine as she leaves kisses and bites all over your exposed skin. “tell me what you want or you’ll get nothing. tell me where you want me.” she whispered. “i want your fingers.” “where?” “you know where.” “tell me or you get nothing.” you hesitate for a moment before saying feebly. “in.. in my pussy..” “that’s a good girl.”

she smiles as she pushes her hands into your slacks. she could feel your wetness. “i got you this worked up, huh? who knew little miss perfect could get this wet over me, a ‘nepo baby’?” she teased with a cocky smile. she slowly slides your slacks and underwear all the way down to your ankles before she applies a delicious amount of pressure to your clit. you gasp, your hand wrapping around her wrist. “oh, you like that do you, huh? you want more? fucking beg for it. cmon.” she applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles as her fingers ghost your sopping entrance. “oh— please ellie, i need more. give me more.” “gonna take more than that, baby.” you whine when she suddenly takes all that pressure away from you.

you let out another whine as you attempt to rut against her hand. her free hand slaps your thigh as she shakes her head in disapproval. “none of that. keep still. you get nothing until you beg like a good girl.” “please, please. ill do anything. just please touch me.” she chuckles at you. she found it cute how you were so desperate to chase that pleasure. “god, you’re so desperate. you need it so.. goddamn bad, don’t you?” she lets out a grunt in the middle of her sentence as she suddenly plunged into your pussy.

as she moves her fingers, she groans at how wet her you were. first she starts with middle finger, then adding her ring finger. her long fingers are hitting that sweet spot in you. she was making you see stars. “listen to yourself. look at ‘er, she’s crying for me.” she coos as she speeds her pace. you moan out. “watch me, baby.” you slowly look down at her fingers plunging in and out of you. sounds of wet squelching fill your ears. you bite your lip and you toss your head back as you let out a moan. you grind yourself down onto her fingers, chasing that wonderful and blissful orgasm.

you felt a pressure building up in your stomach. your eyes were fluttering open and shut. everytime you looked away, she stopped. you made sure to not look away. once that pressure in your stomach felt like it was gonna release, your moans became more broken. “ellie! ellie— oh fuck! ellie! im gonna cum! don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you say between moans as you bring your hand back down to hold her wrist in place.

“oh yeah? gonna cum? let go for me. make a mess on my fingers. cmon. i know you can do it.” she said as she kept her pace at that same one that was making you see stars. she’d been rambling something to you, talking you through it as she watched you cum all over her fingers. she helps you ride out your orgasm, a slight tremble in your legs becoming more apparent.

“what do we say?” “thank you.” she smiled as she pulled her fingers out. the sudden loss makes you whine. she sucks her fingers clean and you watch as her tongue runs across the length of her fingers. “still being a tease, williams?” you ask as you look at her while she does it. “mm.. well no, i dont think so. just savouring how good you taste.” when she was finally satisfied, she drops her hands. “so, you finally ready to stop being so stubborn and take the deal?” “not a chance if it means we get to have sex like this.” you respond with a chuckle. “maybe you need to be fucked again, hm?” she ask with a smile.

needless to say, you’d went another time, and on the third you fucked ellie. eventually you come to some sort of agreement after you’d been laid on her leather sofa, naked and feeling like you were floating. the only question you had now is what the hell had you gotten into. “will this turn into a scandal?” you ask. “.. probably not if we keep this under wraps.” she responds as she puts her head in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. “plus, yknow i can just pay the media off right? they won’t say anything. not a peep.” she reassured as she smiled softly.

[prettyboykatsuki]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 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

[dearhargrove]

True colors

Summary Ethan would always protect you. Even if he had to go against his family.

word count 1610

tags violence, blood, scream 6 spoilers, probably unrealistic but whatever :)

a/n idk but u couldn't stop thinking abt this so I wrote it heh. Pls enjoy 🫶🏻 also im morally this is very wrong and that he actually kinda coo coo towards the end of the movie but I'm delusional and gonna keep believing he was how he was most of the movie. Also yes the title is inspired by the song from the weeknd I'm sorry I couldn't think of anything else 😭

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You're standing in the middle of Sam and Tara as Bailey explains how he was the one behind all of this. You're just as shocked as the two sisters when Quinn takes off her mask and grins smugly.

The attention turns to the other Ghostface next and no one moves for a second. Bailey nudges him with a disgruntled look and they move, taking the mask off.

Your breath stops and your tears blur your vision as Ethan stands there, eyes desperate as he looks at you.

"No, no, no this can't be, please…" you cry out and shake your head, still in denial.

"(y/n)..." He tries and his voice sounds just as shaky and desperate as yours had seconds ago. "No, don't-", you're crying against Sam's shoulder as she cradles you against her protectively.

"Please, I never hurt you- I would never hurt you!" He tries again, and you can hear he's close to tears as well. You hiccup and wipe your eyes, turning around slowly.

"Ethan, you murdered one of my closest friends," he flinches as if he didn't know what he had done and you walk closer to him as anger takes over the absolute desperation you were feeling.

"That wasn't me!" He yells. Quinn interjects from behind him, proudly pointing to herself as she claims it as her own doing.

"Was this all fake to you? To get closer to Sam and Tara?" You ask, and when you're close enough, you look up and push him back with a hand on his chest, sneering. He tries denying it, "No, please, I really do love you!"

"If you did, you wouldn't have done any of this."

He chokes on a sob and chokes out another apology as his father speaks up. "You think he did anything? He was useless in this whole plan, kept saying how he couldn't hurt you, and how he would just kill Sam in the end instead of doing anything else." Bailey scoffs, and you frown.

Your head is basically exploding at this information. It certainly makes you feel less repulsed towards Ethan, but did it matter when he helped his father with this plan, anyway?

The boy in front of you hangs his head in shame, and you instinctively reach out to lay a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring motion, pulling back quickly after.

You were lost - you loved this boy, and you could easily tell when he was lying, just as you could tell he was being truthful about this. But still, he had also been an accomplice to two killers.

You definitely didn't trust him anymore - how could you? - but you couldn't just stop loving him. You turn to Sam with a lost expression, and she seems to understand, sighing.

There seemed to be a mutual agreement between you, and she huffed. She turns back to Bailey and Quinn, the two frowning at the closeness between you and Ethan.

"Get back here, boy," Bailey scolds, and Ethan sways, his fists clenching. "If you go now, every chance you have with me is gone."

He looks up again, and his expressive eyes meet yours. There's fear more than anything on his face, and he turns to look at his dad and sister before turning to you again.

He tilts his head with a frown and puts a hand on your cheek before pulling your body in front of his chest and holding a knife to your throat in one quick movement. You gasp and grasp his forearms, did he just act remorseful to kill you?

He leans forward, "Trust me," he whispers before taunting Sam and Tara about how they'd lose. Your heartbeat falters at the warmth, radiating off of him and the general comfort he gave you.

You give Sam a look, hoping she understands, but Tara is already off to fight Quinn, brick gripped tightly in her hand as she hits it over the other girl's head.

You wince at the resounding crack and turn to Sam hurriedly, Ethan walking backward with his eyes on his dad, who was watching with an approving smile. "See? Knew you could do something right, son."

Sam takes off to the man, leaving Ethan and you without any attention on you. He leads you to the back of the stage, curtain hiding you from sight.

You crouch down behind some furniture that was definitely rotting and look at him. His knife laid next to him as he kneeled next to you, anxiously surveying the area.

"Why'd you do it?" You whisper. You genuinely wanted to know. He exhales and settles his eyes on you for a moment before looking towards the doorway again.

"I... wanted dad to see me for me. Not just Richie's brother or an accomplice. As his son."

You feel remorse for him, your gaze softening, and you take his hand again, the familiar feeling making you feel less on edge. "I see you for what you've shown me of yourself. But I don't know if that was a lie. If… our relationship was even real." It hurts to say, but it's the truth - he was okay with killing, something he'd kept hidden from you for more or less good reason. What else did you not know about him?

He hesitates and fidgets with his hands, "At the beginning… at the party. I didn't have to get close to you. Dad said it'd be better if you trusted me since you're close with Sam and Tara so he wasn't against it, he just didn't tell me to do it." He starts.

"Did he tell you to get close to Chad and the others?" He nods solemnly and you hum, motioning for him to keep going.

"The more we talked the more I started liking you and.. he didn't like that." He frowns and looks around again before hurrying up, "I told him and Quinn not to hurt you and that if we had to kill you I'd do it. I would've never done that but at least they wouldn't have tried anything." He looks at you for a reaction and though you're shaken you're also surprised he was so adamant on keeping you safe from the beginning.

"Thanks," it's basically a question but he chuckles and shrugs, nodding.

"It wasn't hard to fall for you. I never really fit in so when you just went with everything I did and cared-" he smiles with a slight flush on his cheeks and under different circumstances you would've cooed at the endearing sight.

"I knew you would find out about this," he motions to his robe, "so I thought why not? And then I confessed. I never expected you'd like me back but you did," your heart clenches when he says 'did', as if he expects you to have stopped loving him in the short time you've known about all of this, "And I've never been happier than when I came to class and you were waiting somewhere for me."

His shoulders shake nearly unnoticeably but you still see it, and you watch as he hastily wipes his eyes.

"Oh, Ethan…" you mumble and pull him into a hug. He reciprocates it after a moment, his arms wrapping around your waist as good as he could with both of you kneeling in a dusty corner with the smell of rotting everything around.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he breathes and you place a hand on the back of his head. "I know," the moment is interrupted when two gunshots sound through the theater and the screaming goes silent.

He lets go of you and grabs his knife again. You wait with bated breath when footsteps start approaching and someone calls your names.

"Ethan- ah, there you are," Tara had a wound in her stomach, and there was blood splattered over her face. You smile in relief that she was, at least to an extent, okay, getting up to hug her.

She laughs, and you know it's pure relief that you were still alive. When you part, she turns to Ethan, who was standing off to the side with furrowed brows.

"You," she starts but you interrupt her. "He saved me. And he explained it. I know you don't trust him but please," she's conflicted and just stares at him, not wavering even as her older sister comes up behind her as well.

"Tara, it's okay. Trust her with this."

The younger girl huffs but nods, taking Sam's offered hand. "Listen, you tell the rest of the group the truth and the police that you were manipulated or whatever." She orders and he nods, quietly thanking her.

The pair of sisters walks away after that but not without Tara staring at Ethan with a harsh glare once more.

He shrinks even more into himself and you're somewhat glad he was still the shy bean he was before.

-

It took everyone some time but now, almost half a year later, you're sitting in Sam and Tara's apartment, having dinner together.

Ethan was sitting next to you, holding your hand under the table and talking to Chad. You smile happily and lean back in your chair, watching everyone interact calmly.

It had taken Mindy the longest to trust Ethan - though you're unsure if she does - but she tolerates him by now.

Your gaze falls back to your boyfriend, his fingers playing with your bracelet.

You don't think you'd ever be able to forget all of what happened back then but you stopped associating him with it quickly enough. Ethan turns to you with a confused head tilt, squeezing your hand in question. You just smile and lean against his shoulder.

[pedroshotwifey]

Birthday Present

In honor of our father's birthday ;)

(Picture of Pedro but can be pictured as either Joel) <3

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, implied age gap but not specified, daddy kink, Joel calls himself daddy because Joel is daddy, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), slight over-stimulation, Joel and reader are in love because I said so, Joel likes tits, smut, fluff, im probably forgetting stuff but oh well

Summary: You do your best to give Joel the best birthday, and he lets you know how much he appreciates it.

A/N: This is officially the shortest thing I've written! I wrote it all on short notice so I hope it doesn't sound rushed or anything :,) ***

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. Gonna kill me before those clickers even get the goddamn chance.”

You giggle as you stare up at Joel. That’s exactly the kind of reaction you had been hoping for. You’ve been planning this day for close to a week, after all. It took a good bit of trading, but you somehow managed to get a lingerie set as well as  ingredients for a cake—both of those things being a rare delicacy nowadays. 

“Yeah, you like your gift, Daddy?” you ask him with feigned innocence. He tilts his head and gives you a warning look. You know damn well that he likes it. Who wouldn’t? He comes home after a long day of work to find his girl spread out on his bed, wrapped up in white, baby doll style lingerie, complete with a pretty little ribbon in her hair. 

His perfect little birthday present. Joel keeps his hungry gaze on your barely-covered body as he kicks his boots off. His cock is already fighting to get out of its confines, his large bulge obvious against his jeans. 

“Hands and knees, baby girl,” he commands as he starts to work on his jacket. You obey him immediately, turning around and planting your forearms on the mattress, your ass high up in the air. Joel grunts behind you as he looks up to see you presenting yourself. There is only a small, lacy scrap of fabric separating him from your soft pussy. 

“Daddy’s gonna get good use outta his gift, ain't he, sweetheart,” he says as he walks over to you, his voice deep with lust. You know he’s hungry for this, After a stressful day, his favorite thing to do is come home and fuck the shit out of you. His perfect girl, staying home and cleaning the house, cooking him good meals, warming his bed, starting his showers. You deserve the world, and he hates that he can’t give it to you. 

Instead, he brings you gifts. Perfumes, outfits, treats, books, and the like. He treats you like an absolute princess, and fucks you just the way you need. He never fails to make you feel special and appreciated. Your love for him seems to somehow grow more everyday, and his for you. 

“Please, Daddy, it’s all yours,” your voice is breathy and your legs are already shaking in anticipation. You hear Joel chuckle behind you and turn around to look, only to see him standing, fully undressed now, with his hardened cock in his hand. The involuntary moan you let out at the sight is just bordering on pornagraphic. 

His dick never fails to intimidate you. The fact that it stands at a little over seven inches fully erect is enough to make your eyes widen even without the girth. With the ridiculous girth, however, it makes you want to get on your knees and worship him until he’s coming all over your face—which is what you decide to do.

Joel opens his mouth to question you as you slink from the bed, but you’re down in front of him with his cock in your small hand before he has the chance. He lets out a choked groan as you squeeze the tiniest bit before licking a stripe up the bottom of his shaft. His hand quickly finds its way to your hair for stability, rustling the ribbon you had secured there. 

“Fuck, darlin’” he says through gritted teeth. He pushes you forward slightly with his hand, encouraging you to go further. Getting the hint, you lean forward and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You waste no time in suctioning to the head, making Joel moan above you.

“Yeah, there you go baby, just like that,” he praises through clenched teeth as you begin to take him deeper down your throat. It doesn’t take too much of you sucking and licking his dick to have Joel on the edge. You hum, sending vibrations up his body as you feel how close he’s getting.

As soon as he starts to shake, you’re pulled away from him, his cock dropping from your mouth. Confused, you look up at him to see the way he has his eyes closed in concentration. 

“Such a good girl for Daddy, baby, but I wanna fuck that pretty pussy,” he says once he opens his eyes. “Get back up on the bed for me, angel.”

Smiling, you follow his orders, this time laying on your back with your ass close to the edge. You want to be able to look into his pretty eyes as he ruins you. You spread your legs wide for him as he comes closer, a feral look in his eyes. 

“Goddamn, baby, wanna unwrap my present, but I’m too fuckin’ impatient,” he says as he rushes toward you, his hand coming out to play with your lacy panties. “Wanna play with my toy now.”

“That’s okay, Daddy,” you assure him with another giggle. “I want you to play with your toy, too.” 

Joel doesn’t wait any longer to slot between your legs, put them over his shoulders, and pull your panties to the side just enough to slam his cock into your cunt. The force of the first thrust knocks the breath out of you, but it’s okay since you would have forgotten how to breath, anyway.

He always makes you feel so full. It’s like as soon as he stuffs his dick into you, every thought leaves your mind, only leaving enough room for him. You gasp in the air you lost as Joel pulls out just enough to leave the tip in before shoving back in to kiss your g-spot with his cock. 

“Oh, God, Daddy,” your speech is slurred as you begin to go cock-dumb. Joel chuckles darkly as he starts a rapid pace. You bring your hands up to play with your nipples through your lingerie, but he quickly shoves your arms away before tugging at the top of the set.

He pulls just enough to let your breasts spill free, his eyes becoming transfixed on the way they bounce up and down with each of his thrusts. 

“There you go, baby, play with those pretty tits for me, now.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You immediately resume your earlier actions, whining at the friction. You can feel the pressure already building up in your core, and it’s quickly enhanced as Joel brings one of his hands down to rub rough circles over your clit. You moan loudly as you quickly approach the edge.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” Joel questions as he starts making faster and tighter circles. “Gonna come all over Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes, yes,” you start. “S-so good, gonna come for you,” your voice comes out whiny and high pitched but you can’t find it in you to care. It only takes a few more seconds for you to gush around Joel’s dick. You cry out as you squeeze around him and he rides you through it. 

“T-there you go, baby girl, so fuckin’ good f’ me.” 

You can tell by the way he stutters as he speaks that he’s close again, his thrusts getting more sloppy and frantic. He doesn’t stop moving as he grabs your ankles to bring your legs back down and wrap them around his waist. You immediately cross your ankles together behind him and use them to pull him closer to you.

Once your legs are where he wants them, he brings his hand back down and touches your lips with his fingertips, requesting entry. You quickly oblige, opening your lips to allow him to dip his fingers into your mouth. Once they’re covered in your spit, he draws them back out and brings them to your overstimulated clit. 

You keen at the pressure as he starts his circles again. Somehow, your second orgasm seems to come on faster than the first. Between Joel’s fingers swirling over your clit and the way his cock is consistently slamming into that heavenly spot inside you, you’re gushing around his cock within seconds. 

Joel groans as you finish again. You barely register the way he wraps his arms around you to bring you into a semi-sitting position. The change makes it so that your tits are at the perfect height for Joel to duck down and take a nipple into his mouth, which he eagerly does. Your hand flies into his sweaty curls as he begins to suck. 

At the same time you scream, you feel his cock throb inside you, followed by thick ropes of cum painting your walls. The feeling triggers your third orgasm, and Joel finds just enough strength to pull away from your breast and find your swollen lips with his own. 

He kisses you hungrily as you both come down from your highs. He moans and grunts into your mouth as he shakes, and you readily swallow every sound. Once you both start to calm down, he settles you back onto your back and then takes the spot next to you, both of you laying on the bed while trying to catch your breath. 

“Happy birthday, old man,” you say after a few minutes. You hear Joel chuckle next to you and your smile widens. You’ll never get enough of that sound. 

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he says, choosing to ignore your ‘old man’ comment. “Couldn’t have asked for a better present.”

Your chest warms. You haven’t even given him his cake yet.

[sugar-omi]

Could I please request hc or a drabble about Cove as a new parent with a female MC? Thank you! ❤️

its your lucky day (aka you've asked smth ive been thinking abt for days LOL) bc ive written hc's and drabbles <333 although mostly messy hc's that are in no coherent order also I think I will come back n write more coherent n specific scenarios bc I have sm thoughts on cove through parenthood.... pls tysm for this ask I hope it's satisfactory bc i wrote in order of my thoughts LOL

tags : fluff, AFAB reader, after step 3/wedding dlc, "options" for 1 or 2 babes (if you hc triplets im praying for u🙏), no gender mention of the babe/s, birth surrogacy n adoption are up for imagination but pregnancy/surrogacy is most implied altho i think you could imagine adopting a baby before they're born bc ik some ppl do that

synopsis : how cove acts when you have your first kid & a bit on how he is raising them with you <3

many many candid shots of cove holding the baby

PLEASE tell me someone recorded near the end of the birth/when they brought you the babe

he's crying. no matter what he's crying his fuckin eyes out

if you're giving birth please either have him wait outside n come in to cut the cord at the end bc he might faint

if you do have him in the room he'll be on his best behavior. will try his best not to worry too much bc he knows it could stress you out

(I'm thinking abt this video I saw where the wife said her husband fainted n fell back into this rolly office chair n just rolled to the back of the room into the dark side (it was apparently a long room lollll))

if you're in for a long labor or it's pretty short he's more calm bc either it's over before he can freak out or it's so fuckin long he's over it LOL

he's more of a solid, physical support than anything else because he's not too good with words but also he dosn't want you to feel pressured, annoyed, or smth with constant "you got this!" "its okay!" as you're pushing out a whole human, its not a simple task

[video 1]

COVE: so little... COVE: (looks at his mom/dad) are they supposed to be this small? (watery laugh)

is very scared to hold the babe, he's a big guy, with or without the muscles so he's always gentle with them even once they get bigger

definitely texts his dad during the pregnancy/surrogacy/adoption process "I hope i can be a good dad like you"

cliff getting a text from cove at 3am: "ty for raising me idk how you did it omg"

cliff is crying n flying over there immediately

!!!! if you need someone to help you adjust cliff is on the fuckin way!!! you can't even finish asking bc he's alrdy here, whatever you need guys!!!!

but if you want to be alone to bond w the babe or you hire a professional to help with the transition then he or your moms will come over and clean up, prepare food, and allows you to come home and not worry about getting things done.

dies if the kid has his hair color or eyes, like at first he just finds it crazy that he's a dad n that he has a lil spawn of his own

also lots of pictures of cliff playing w the babe/s

we all know cove can be lazy with his hair, but he doesn't want his kid going to school w crazy hair so he learns

at first it looks like a mess

n if you keep your hair short or can only do smth simple, its time to call your ma or lee for help LOL

imagine cove standing by your ma as she's showing him how to braid... so sweet

cove is tip-toeing through the house, trying to shake off his outside clothes quietly and when he walks back into the room after brushing his teeth he's greeted with the sweet sound of his baby's giggle

you are sound asleep.

you and the other babe are sound asleep.

he shushes the baby, easing himself into the bed. suddenly he thinks that spending all that money on this big bed was worth it, especially with the way his achy body sinks into it.

"cove?..."

he reaches over the babe/s. "sorry.. did I wake you?"

you hum, it's not a yes or a no, just a sleepy sound and he laughs at how out of it you are even though you're trying to fight it, stroking your face and carding his fingers through your hair.

"I love you.. thank you." he whispers. this moment is so delicate. he worries a bit that if he speaks too loud it'll be gone and he'll wake up in his teenage bedroom, staring at the bottom of his scratched up bunk bed.

"f'what?" you blink slowly.

"for everything..." he grins softly, thinking about that night

of your wedding, when you told him you wanted kids with him.

after the ORCA fundraiser dinner, when you asked him if he imagined having kids with you.

"we made it. that future we talked about..."

you smile softly, more awake now. "thanks for making it with me."

he laughs, muffins his face in the pillow and resting a hand on the baby, willing them not to wake. "how can you thank me for that?"

you grin, more sleepy than anything but still full of mischief.

"how can you thank me for getting me pregnant?" you giggle at your husband's flustered face.

"how can you thank me for being here like I promised years later?" you tease, bringing up night of the fundraiser.

cove flushes, burying his face in the babies hair instead of answering you.

he puts an arm around you, careful of the little one/s between you. "just go to bed..."

gb lady said cove is sahd material.....

omg he makes them lunch always, or he at least helps you make lunch because his cooking skills are a bit limited and they'd prbly have star shaped sandwiches and applesauce everyday

HE HAS A THING TO PUT THE BABE IN WHILE HE DOES HOUSE SHIT

your kids are definitely cuddles bc of him, he always picks em up, and if he doesn't have a carrier than he'll make a makeshift one out of a blanket.

omg imagine him and the kid/s at the dining table crying tryna figure out the homework

"its getting worse y/n!!!" "what the fuck is common core math?!" "babe call the teacher, something is missing here..."

if you're bad at math or smth too than you're all fucked n your kid/s AND COVE are facetiming his dad for a long distance tutoring lesson

he's reading them books every night

HE gets upset when it doesn't happen

"babe we gotta turn around, I only read them 5 books we're gonna be gone 6 nights."

FaceTime them every night you're away just the two of u

falls asleep w the kids in the weirdest positions

why is there a princess crown on his head and where did the face paint come from????

spoils the kid/kids. you're gonna go bankrupt please stop!!!

when your kid/s finally graduate n move out on their own, he thanks his dad for raising him and teaching him how to be the best dad.

also thanks you for just being amazing n reassuring him whenever he worried abt doing something wrong

if you have more than 1, he's a master by baby 2/3

COVE: (holding fresh baby, whispering) ....why is it so red

raising you kid/s w cove is tough at first, cove worries about doing some wrong or failing as a parent.

and he did eventually admit he was worried about raising his kid/s in a "broken" home. his parents did their best! and he loves them, but the split was hard for him and he doesn't want them to go through the same feelings.

every day is a new experience in your house to say the least

I imagine it's filled w lots of worry, love, and tears

COVE N HIS KID/S HAVE A CRY COUNT

(cove is losing somehow?! he's been out crybaby-ed)

[ggukiepie]

girl in luv (boy in luv pt. 6)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook finally tells you what you've been wanting to hear for so long...but you're still not happy

tags: bil!couple, college!au, bff!jk, two idiots in love, angst (what's new), fluff, happy ending !!!, kissing hihi

wc: 3.5k

a/n: lmaoooo hi im sorry this took so long. i didn't like what i originally wrote so i scrapped the whole thing and well here it is! i hope u guys like it. this is the last part for the series. tho i do plan to post some drabbles here and there (like their first time together maybe) but no promises anw thats its bye happy reading !!!! series masterlist / main masterlist

~*~

Your phone suddenly buzzes—someone was calling you. Though, instead of answering it, you stuff your phone between your couch cushions to block out the noise. You don’t dare look at your screen, sure you’ll get tempted to answer the call—whoever that was. You haven’t got much social interaction these days, always choosing to go straight home after each class, eating by yourself, declining invites to parties and hangouts. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to be this way. You did this to yourself, really. You’d rather be alone than hangout with people. You didn’t have the energy to do so. You just wanted to be in your bubble a little bit longer.

Deep down, you know you’re craving to talk to someone. Anyone. But somehow you always end up alone. With your thoughts.

Self-sabotage, if you will.

The thoughts don’t help either. Your mind always drifts to Jungkook. Sometimes you think about him and his girlfriend. Most of the time, you think of your friendship. You missed what you had, even though you had to guard your heart every time, even if you got your hopes up at the simplest of actions. You missed being with Jungkook because for the time you were with him, he felt like he was…yours? There was no doubt that you were his. Had been from the start but didn’t realize it till later on. Your heart always craved for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t with you. Your heart felt lighter when you were together, be it doing the most mundane of things or sharing a special moment.

If you could just toughen up and tell him how you feel. But it was easier said than done. He already indirectly rejected you when he got together with some girl. But why would he reject you if he never knew how you felt? Maybe you were too busy protecting your heart, protecting the friendship you might lose if you would’ve confessed. You never thought he’d feel the same, even though you had moments that felt like he did.

You shake your head to rid your thoughts. You try to focus on writing the essay in front of you. Your Friday nights felt different now—stuck doing homework while your friends were partying.

You’re finally two pages deep when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You check the time on your laptop and see it’s a little past one in the morning. You suddenly rush to open your door, scared that you’d get a noise complaint all of a sudden.

You stand frozen, mouth agape at the scene in front of you.

“Huh?” you dumbly say.

It’s your three closest friends in your doorway. Jimin and Taehyung are somewhat conscious—at least they’re standing upright. But you notice the sway in their stance and you can smell the alcohol off of them. But it’s Jungkook between them that makes you freeze. He’s passed out, you’re sure of it, and the only reason why he’s sort of standing up is because Jimin and Tae have his arms around their shoulders.

“Why are you guys here?” you finally say.

It’s Taehyung who speaks up, smiling that smile he has when he wants something to go his way. When he has a plan that you might say no to (which you usually do). “Jungkook,” he points at Jungkook, as if you’d confuse him with anyone else, “is drunk.”

“I can see that,” you deadpan.

“And!” Tae rushes to say, like you’re about five seconds from shutting the door in their faces. “He kept asking for you. So we are simply complying with his request.”

“Because we are great friends,” Jimin pipes in. Taehyung nods in confirmation.

“Me?” you whisper, as if Taehyung were referring to anyone else. Your mind isn’t any better than his drunk one at this point.

“Yes!” Jimin whisper shouts. “Now let us in, he’s kinda getting heavy.”

Jungkook makes an incoherent sound from where his head is leaning on Tae’s shoulder, drool making a wet patch on the poor guy’s shirt. You take pity on your best friend and step aside to let in all of them, even though your heart’s racing because Jungkook is in your apartment.

Holy shit.

You watch them bring his unconscious body to your couch (they actually drop Jungkook and giggle all the way to your door, saying their goodbyes without looking back).

You huff at the sight in front of you. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed red and he’s a little bit sweaty. Though, he looks so peaceful sleeping on your couch. Was he really looking for you?

You get a glass of water and two aspirins, placing it on the coffee table near him. The moment you near him, you kneel by his head and wipe the stray hairs on his forehead. You look at Jungkook, like really look at him. His eyebrows are scrunched together like something’s troubling him in his dreams. His lips are in a slight pout, lip ring glistening under your light (when did he get that, anyway?), little puffs of air coming out his mouth.

“Am I…” he mumbles. Your heart races. His eyes are still closed, but his mouth continues to move. “Am I at ____’s?”

Your heart seizes at the sound of your name. You gulp and nod slowly, then realize that he can’t hear you. “Yeah…” you trail off. “You’re in my living room.”

“Oh,” your best friend says as his eyebrows scrunch up some more. “Missed you.”

You sit back on the floor and hug your knees to yourself, preparing for whatever it is that he might say next. A drunk man’s words are his sober thoughts, right?

“Jimin and Tae said you were looking for me?”

“Mhmm,” he mumbles. “Wanted to… tell you somethin’”

You shake your head. Though your heart yearned to know, you also do know it’s not the right time. Not when he’s drunk. He might just regret his words now the next morning, which might even hurt worse than what he’s about to say. “Save it for tomorrow, Kook.” You push yourself off the floor but he stops you by holding your wrist, albeit weakly.

“Nuh uh…” he whispers. “Need to know…now. Broke up with Jiwoo.” He opens his eyes slightly and looks at you right away.

“Jungkook—”

“Like,” he continues to say, “I did it for you.”

You feel your anger rising, your body heating everywhere. “I didn’t tell you to do anything,” you firmly say.

Jungkook moves to sit up and you take a step back. “No,” he shakes his head slowly. “Jus’ didn’t feel right.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you finally walk to your bedroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. You block out the sounds of Jungkook weakly calling out your name. Your fists clench in anger, the words Jungkook just uttered replaying in your head over and over. He couldn’t just dump his problems, turn around the narrative and make it seem like you made him break up with Jiwoo. That you asked him to end things with her because it didn’t feel right. And he forced himself into your home, your personal space—and drunk at that! He knew all your weak spots and used it to his advantage.

You hope he’d be gone in the morning. You don’t think your heart can hurt any more.

You hear pans clinking which promptly wakes you up. You weren’t able to sleep that much, actually, knowing Jungkook was right outside your room. You guess he stayed in the morning. He’s either cooking in your kitchen, or someone’s trying to steal your pans.

Rubbing your eyes as you open your bedroom door, you spot Jungkook by the stove with his back turned to you. He seems to be making scrambled eggs—which is the only thing he can make confidently.

“Morning,” you say. You might as well clear the air as early as now. You watch his back tense for a millisecond before he turns off the stove and sets the pan on your dining table. He turns to face you and brings a hand up to brush his hair back, a nervous tick of his that you noticed a few years back.

“Good morning,” he mumbles.

“So,” you start.

It’s so awkward you might cry again. When did things get this out of place? You start to rethink your feelings. You haven’t even confessed yet it feels like you’ve lost your best friend already. What if you confessed? What would happen then? You felt your heart closing just thinking about it now. Was your friendship really that fragile? You and Jungkook hardly fought but even if you did, you always made up right away.

“___,” he says. You look up, eyes meeting his instantly. “About last night… I’m sorry I suddenly barged into your place. I guess I really forced Tae and Jimin to bring me here.”

You nod and lean on the wall behind you, preparing for a long talk with him.

“I just really missed you, I guess—”

“Do you remember what you said last night?” you ask harshly, cutting him off so quick his shoulders tense.

Jungkook swallows nervously and nods his head. “Yeah and… I don’t know if there’s a better to say it, really. But we did break up, ____. She just wasn’t it for me.”

“And you said you did it for me,” you say, pushing him to just get to the point.

“Yes, because I realized that my heart never belonged to her. It belonged to you. Still does,” he says in a rush.

You eye him sharply, staring at his features and expression to make sure he’s completely telling the truth. You want to believe him, you really do, but why would he say that then be with someone else.

“It doesn’t make sense,” you finally say. “Why did you get together with her, then?”

“I don’t know—”

“You don’t know,” you repeat, and Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic. “You think you can come running to me right after a break up? Like I’m some second option? You don’t love her enough so you run to me instead?”

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, mind thinking quickly to say something. His hands start to tremble and he brings a hand up to push back his hair. “I didn’t mean that,” he says hoarsely. “I didn’t realize it soon… And—” he stutters to catch his breath. “I was just scared—”

You’re fuming at this point. How could he do this to you? To just play with your feelings like that? “Get out.”

“____—"

“I mean it, Jungkook,” you shakily say. “You’ve hurt me enough. Just leave, please.”

He looks at you longingly, doe eyes watering before he nods and turns to the door in silence. You watch him put his shoes on before he leaves, not sparing you a glance. You don’t realize you’ve been tearing up as well, wiping the tears on your cheeks. Walking to the kitchen counter, you realize that Jungkook made chocolate chip pancakes. Your favorite.

It’s been a week since the incident with Jungkook and you haven’t talked to him since then. You also missed your weekly brunch with your friends, too afraid to face Jungkook. Thinking about it now, were you a little bit too harsh? Maybe. You thought you’d finally be happy upon hearing his confession but instead you pushed him away, shut him out. Because you’re scared. Terrified. Things were already going so well with Jungkook when you both were just best friends and you don’t think you can lose him forever should you actually get together and then break up.

Funny since it feels like you’ve lost him already.

It’s 8 am and you’re all alone in the student council office, trying to get some studying done as you were restless staying in your apartment. Staying there just reminds you of Jungkook, so you’ve been spending your mornings here before the other people arrive.

Suddenly, the door opens which is unusual. You usually have the place to yourself for at least another three hours. Curiously, you look up and find your best friend standing by the doorway, laptop and coffee in hand.

It’s silent for a moment, the both of you drinking each other in. Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep, eye bags dark and skin lackluster. You suppose you don’t look any better, knowing you barely got any sleep the past few days.

“Hi,” he finally says. You’re glad you have the long table separating the two of you. You don’t think your heart can handle being physically closer.

“Are you here for something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Can I…” He trails off, looking at the printer by the corner. You’d be laughing by now under normal circumstances. You nod instead, because it’s bizarre seeing Jungkook here asking if he can print something, which is something he liked to do back when your friendship was intact. The room is silent as you see him connect his laptop to the printer, both of you avoiding each other’s eyes. It’s too silent, actually, that it’s driving you a bit insane.

“How many pages?” you ask.

“Uhm… Fifty?” he says like he’s unsure.

“Fifty?” you repeat in a gasp. The printer is free, sure, but it’s ancient. Fifty pages will take too long and you don’t know if you can stand being in the room with him for half an hour or so.

Jungkook hands you the coffee he brought with him. “I bought you coffee as thanks.” He smiles ever so slightly and watches as you take a sip. Of course, it’s your usual order at the café down the street.

He looks at you expectantly but you’re too busy looking down at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to lock eyes with him. A few seconds later you hear him exhale and it’s just the sound of the printer in the room.

Your chest feels so tight all of a sudden like it’s ready to burst out of your ribcage any minute. It feels so heavy, so constricting that it’s starting to hurt physically. Is it really worth it harboring all this anger and pain? For conjuring up these theories in your head that will make you push him further away?

You shake your head to yourself and look up expecting to lock eyes with his, but his back is turned to you.

“Did you really mean what you said last week?” you blurt out.

Jungkook jumps in surprise and whips his body to face you, doe eyes wide. He looks surprised but he also looks relieved, and your heart breaks a little more seeing the relief cross his face the moment you talk to him.

He starts playing with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly. “I did,” he mumbles. “I mean every word I said, and I’m really sorry that everything had to turn out this way when I could’ve just been brave and confessed all those years ago.”

You nod your head at his words and process what he just said. Deep down you know you believe him, but it’s hard to keep that in mind when the hurt outweighs the truth. You look up at him with a sad smile on your face. “Why now, Kook? After all these years.”

He sighs and leans on the chair in front of him. You notice his shoulders deflate and his back hunch a little. He looks tired and you feel your own tiredness in your bones as well. “I was just scared. Us being friends was so comfortable and so good… I was just scared of things changing and me losing you.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. Looking to the side of the room to avoid his stare, you whisper, “And I know—” you choke on your words and clench your hands in frustration. “And I know I’m at fault as well—for assuming and pulling away once you got together with her. I had no right because we’re just…friends.”

It’s quiet save for the printer and his feet shuffling on the floor. You turn towards him to see Jungkook slowly walking to where you’re sat. Once he’s standing in front of you, he raises his hands towards your face but stops midway. Like he’s about to hold you but he’s hesitant.

You’re tilting your head to look up at him, eyes shiny with tears but lip turned upwards in a small smile. It’s ok, you mouth, because you don’t trust yourself to speak right now. You watch Jungkook hold your face in his hands, thumbs going behind your ears to rub at your skin slowly, fingers splayed on your cheeks to wipe your tears away.

He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers shakily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, heart squeezing at the affectionate way he talks to you.

“I really am sorry,” he repeats. “I… Yeah, we’re just friends but I’d like to believe that we both just know. That you felt my love the same I’ve been feeling yours ever since. Even though we’re just friends. But…I know better now.”

You look at him confusingly and he looks away from you and smiles, his cheeks turning a light shade of red. You watch in silence as he plays with his lip piercing distractedly. Finally, he turns to you still with that smile on his face. His thumb starts playing with your lower lip but he’s looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes.

You’ve seen this look on him before, every time you’re with him, and now do you only realize that it’s a look full of love, desire, yearning.

“It’s scary if we do become something more and I end up losing you,” he starts, “but I’d rather live a life of at least knowing what it feels like to love you and be loved by you, than doing nothing at all.”

Tears are streaming down your face but you’re smiling so wide and Jungkook’s doing the same as well, with his nose even scrunching up and his dimples showing.

“I think it’s normal to feel scared,” you finally reply. “But I’d also rather live a life of us loving together than loving from afar.”

It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook stare at each other. He’s wiping off your tears which makes him cry a little more, so you wipe his tears next. You’re both crying now but with happy smiles on your faces and it prompts you both to laugh.

“We were kinda stupid, huh?” Jungkook says in between giggles.

You nod and giggle back. “A bit silly, yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks. Your heart starts racing and your palms get clammy. You start feeling nervous but it’s the good kind, finally getting to do something you’ve been anticipating, been waiting for ever since you realized your heart belonged to your best friend.

“Please,” you whisper.

Jungkook wastes no times in leaning forward, his grip on your cheeks tightening just a bit, pulling you upwards to meet his lips. Your lips finally touch and it steals your breath away. Quite literally.

Jungkook’s lips are soft, slots perfectly right in between yours. He kisses how he holds you—gentle and careful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his tongue, and you grant his wish by opening your lips just slightly.

There are no fireworks or sparks or anything grand like that. Your heart suddenly feels calm and at ease. Like this is what you’re meant to do. It feels like coming home for the first time where everything feels right. You feel a great weight lift off your shoulders and you know you’ve made the right decision by choosing love.

Jungkook pulls back but only slightly so he can catch his breath. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours and when he speaks, you feel his lips move.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the way he looks at you with his eyes, like it holds so much love and adoration and it’s all for you. “Wish I said it sooner but I don’t want to think about that. Don’t want to live and continue on with regrets. I’m so happy to have you like this,” he whispers shakily. “So lucky to be able to love you like this.”

You kiss him again which causes him to smile so wide that his dimples pop out. “I love you too.” You giggle again. Saying it is so freeing and it feels so normal too. Not some grand epiphany or realization. Like you’ve known ever since. Like your heart has felt this way throughout your years of friendship with Jungkook and only now are you able to verbalize it. You know you’re lucky, too, to be able to have him in this way. But you don’t want to give too much credit to luck. You believe yours and Jungkook’s love were destined ever since.

[zimwritez]

stress reliever

WC: 639

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, f!sub!reader-dom!eric, ummm anger? HELP it’s nothing too serious 😁

A/N: hayyyy!! this is a story that I wrote FOREVVERR ago, when I first got into the boyz and had another blog (can’t remember the name, celestial tbz maybe? something like that). it hasn’t been read in years so im sorry if it has errors. let me know how u like it!

(also i don’t know how to add the read more tag on mobile so I’m sorry if this clogs ur TL 🥹🙏)

———

normally when you stay at eric’s house everything is all smiles and sunshine. you play videogames, have pillow fights and watch TV, but this time something was different. eric has been acting less empathetic lately and it’s really been putting you off. you walk into the office he’s sitting in, and ask a question.

“eric? can I make you some dinner? are you hungry?”

he looks at you with an annoyed expression and mumbles some words.

“i don’t care what you make me.”

you sighed as you moved over to eric and gently sat down on his lap in his chair. you tried to stretch your arms around him and give him a big hug but he wasn’t having it. he turns his face away from you, trying to not make eye contact, keeping his annoyed face on.

“eric...listen I know things have been tough for you lately but I’m really trying to help you and I want to make sure everything is going okay.”

you move your hands back upwards and try to cup his face in your hands. he instead grabs both of your hands and wraps them behind your back, forcing you to move closer.

“you don’t know how badly I want to just fuck the shit out of you right now.”

...you gulped as eric’s annoyed expression turned into an evil smirk. that boy looked like he had the devil in his eyes and you didn’t know how to feel. you looked down with your eyes still shocked from the words that came out of eric’s lips as you feel him release your hands.

“what are you doing...” you quietly whisper.

eric takes his hat off and throws it to the side, and slowly puts his cold hands under your shirt, making you gasp. he moves his hands closer and closer to your back and slowly unclips your bra.

“eric, is this really what you want?”

“this is what I need y/n...”

he brings himself even closer to you, and slowly starts sucking on your neck and collar bone, making you slightly moan and tilt your head back. moving his hands back down, he grabs the ends of your shirt and slides them over your face.

“such a pretty girl. you’re my pretty girl.”

the pleasure is immense. the feeling of eric’s soft lips and hard dick makes you feel euphoric. you can feel him start to rise under you, and it makes you want to moan even louder.

he moves his hands lower, grazing over your clothed clit and massaging in figure 8’s. you mewl in pleasure, and start to buck your hips back and fourth. eric moves his fingers and starts bucking his hips upward, meeting your pace.

“eric please...I need you now.”

he smirks even more. you get up and lay down on the couch behind you, eric follows, and stands over you, taking off his shirt and pants.

“i want these off.”

he starts pulling at the hem of your underwear, and slides them off, exposing how dripping wet you were. taking off his boxers and aligning himself with you, he slowly slides his dick up and down your folds, making you move as you moan.

“eric please stop teasing and just put your fucking dick inside me”

he laughs slightly before sliding into you, making you mewl and moan as your eyes roll back into your head. he starts to move faster and faster, his pace quickening. you start to moan louder and see stars. eric’s grunting makes you want to cum even faster, and you soon hit your climax.

eric pulls out and pumps his dick right before he ends up cumming on your tits, making the room finally silent besides the noises of your heavy breathing.

“thanks for being my stress reliever baby.”

he flashes a cute smile.

[chososdiscordkitten]

⋆˚｡⋆୨ About Me ୧⋆˚｡⋆

Fun Facts:

I use they/them pronouns!!

I'm hispanic!! I used to have it in my welcoming page but I just noticed it isnt anymore!!

I'm a libra!!

I'm on the chunkier side, fuller figured, plus size- whatever :)

I only bought a laptop to start writing fanfics. (a very expensive investment but 100% worth it)

my favorite movies are, American Psycho, Gone Girl, Someone Great, nd DeadPool :D

I'm asexual!!! (but u write smut?) yes I do! I just find lines on paper attractive rather than irl people.

Questions:

How long have you been writing? Officially, since last years horny thanksgiving around 2 am. I just couldn't stand how full my brain felt and had to write it and post. But technically, I've been writing fics in my brain for years. Like, I have an actual archive in my brain of all the fics i've mentally written since I was 9. I still remember them all. Yet I can't remember what I ate yesterday, funny huh. A handful of physical ones for my friends (I found writing on my phone so fucking annoying ໒꒰ ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱১

Why don't you follow back/turn on dms? (／≧ω＼) embarrassing but wtv, I'm a very nervous person when it comes to 1 on 1 conversation..? idk if I come off that way in my posts, but I've had my fair share of online friendships/ irl friendships that ended... not great. so instead of doing that again, I'd rather protect my peace and not even try. I luv talking to people through posts nd asks though!! I just get vv anxious and scared (?) when I have to talk to new people in private. I wish I could speak to people on 1 on 1, but it just gives me unnecessary anxiety that makes me want to throw up.

Why tag your stuff with 'chubby reader' if it mentions nothing physically other than r! privates? So people who are on the chunkier side, (like I am) know I wrote a piece with their body in mind. Always, always I will write my stuff with a fuller figured body in mind (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Will you ever do a face reveal? No probably not. I'd much rather be a faceless entity on here than an actual person. I use spectacles, if that helps picture me better lol

Why the name 'Ten'? I spent the first 3 months on this app as a nameless person, I debated using my irl nickname, and realized my irls could find me just on that. But then I heard 'Ten - Dani Flow' and I loved it soooo much. In Spanish 'ten' means 'here' which I think is vv funny, since I come on here nd im just like 'here, take it.' when I post fics. Plus, it's also 3 letters like my irl nickname (⁀ ᗢ ⁀)

Why is that pic the banner of your pinned post? I remember when I made my pinned, I knew there had to be like- a pic on top. but there wasn't any that called out to me that were 'aesthetic' -so I chose that picture because, growing up I always wanted to run a semi successful fanfic blog. thus 'I used to dream about times like these' its a lil funny thing that makes me laugh every time I see it, cause it doesn't match with the theme of my blog lol

[hero-in-waiting]

❦ ➷ get to know your fellow fanfic writers better ༊ ✧.*

Tagged by @frankthesnek so thank you for this

When did you post your first ever fic? 2004-ish on livejournal. It was Harry/Draco

First character you wrote for? Harry Potter, which tracks for being 13 and in fandom in the early 2000's

Main characters you are currently writing for? Rooster, Hangman and Bob from Top Gun. I love them so much.

Characters you haven't written about before but plan on writing about soon? I want to write a fic for Phoenix so badly bc she is Goals as a human being. Also, IceMav but ahhhhh

Fandoms your currently writing for? Top Gun, and still SGA

Platonic pairings you currently write for? I love all variations of AR-1 as friends and so I love writing them as friends. Bc their friendship is SO GOOD and so different in all the ways.

Romantic pairings you currently write for? Hangster, and I'm team Bob/Phoenix. McShep, McLorne, OT4

Your top 3 tags on AO3 if you post there? Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort which 10000% tracks

Current platform where you post your works? Only AO3, but also sometimes on tumblr, but one of these days I will migrate them over.

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

My currently fandom is set in current day so I'm having fun like...writing text messages lol so this is the latest set of text messages within the fic (i havent added the emojis in cuz im lazy so far)

Rooster: Raise ur hand if u get to be the token queers at some sort of gala

Rooster: hand raise emoji

Hangman: hand raise, middle finger, hand raise

Hangman: but then again, if they want the best. They have the best. And that’s me.

Rooster: hey!

Hangman: Don’t worry boo, you make some good arm candy.

Rooster: Thank you.

Fanboy: Vulcan fingers emoji

Harvard: sucks.

Halo: Hopefully the food is good!

Fritz: maybe someone famous will be there?

Yale: You boys got your uniforms?

Omaha: lol

Hangman: gotta get a new pants. This ass cannot be contained.

Coyote: by that he means he split his seam drunk the last time he was wearing it trying to drop it low

Hangman: Betrayal. But point stands. Ass too good. Rooster can confirm.

Rooster: confirmed.

Coyote: kiss face emoji

Hangman: crying emoji

Coyote: hug emoji

Hangman: hug emoji

Phoenix: you two are pathetic.

Phoenix:  you both owe me a drink

Bob: If you go and buy fusible bonding tape you can add it to the inside seam of your pants to help reenforce it.

Harvard: fucking bob’s the best isn’t he?

Yale: always looking for us

Fritz: what a fucking beauty, bob

Bob: :)

Hangman: Bob, you’re almost making me want a backseater

Phoenix: BACK THE FUCK UP

Halo: 20 on Phoenix

Fanboy: thumbs up

Payback: same

Harvard: same

Yale: 100 emoji

Omaha: same

Bob: Agreed

Rooster: sorry babe.

Hangman: hey!

Coyote: I got u boo

Hangman: at least someone’s loyal

Coyote: 40 on Phoenix

Hangman: fuck all y’all

no pressure tagging: @nimuetheseawitch @spurious @wonkyelk @trainofcommand @gingerpolyglot @esteefee @colonelshepparrrrd and whomever else wants to do this

[rootsmachine]

ao3 year in review !!

tagged by @sapphicscience thank u charlotte!!

works published: 27

word count: 64,873 -- which oh my god lmao insane

kudos: 2850!

hits: 23219

booksmarks: 532!

subscriptions: uhh for author subs it's 65 but i don't think this reports year by year! for individual fics it's 24

most popular by kudos: i got her if i want, my sadie hawkins dance tai x van fic! my top two yj fic are the two pre crash set fics i wrote, which interestingly were like .. the easiest ones to write

most hits: open my arms and give it all to you which is actually one of my favorites, set immediately post 2.07 written in a 45 minute blur

longest: a not admitting of the wound (8018) which is also the only multi chapter fic i wrote this year. i'm not HUGE on writing more than one chapter and really disliked this when i posted it but -- it's grown on me!

shortest: dead when i woke up this morning (881) .. weird dreamlike tai x van & lottie x van fic i wrote

most comments: open my arms etc again which has 19 !

fics that made me cry: i honestly don't really cry at my own fic but under the waves in the blue which is an other tai pov fic about after the crash would be Emotionally my favorite

fics that made me smile: AGAIN i don't really smile at my Own fic and a lot of what i write isn't particularly Smiley but i got her if i want was written in a Lot of ways for myself about a decade ago so. that!

gifts: all the frequencies hold was a gift for sam @redundantjane & i don't think i tagged it as such on ao3 but don't know why i am the way i am was written explicitly for charlotte @sapphicscience.

oh and my stupid fic about jeff & van was jokingly written as a gift for my partner (doesn't watch yj and Doesn't Want To) bc they told me if it's a show about a soccer team there should have been more soccer (or football as they actually said however im stubbornly american in this regard)

collabs: no Actual collabs but i think of a hillside struggling to stand as a spiritual collab w lily @somethinginthestaticterm who had a brief shared mania about the mountain goats' tallahassee

events: my most recent fic that i wrote in a daze and am pretty sure Doesn't actually make sense was technically written for yj october! haven't taken part in any other fic events mostly bc i didn't have the inspiration to write for a lot of the second half of the year but. cest la vie i'll write more in the new year:)

i'm going to tag @owltrifecta anddd anyone else who wants to do this! i honestly cannot keep people's ao3 usernames & tumblr urls straight SO if you write fic! im tagging you

[tecchous-thicc-buttocks]

what do you like doing in your free time?

why is your name clenched buttocks (I wanna know the reason, pls its so funny lol)

what are things you're good at? (own it babe) (and i don't mean 'babe' in a weird way - just gotta clear that lol)

do you have a best friend?

do you write OG stories and/or fanfics?

one thing you hate about yourself

one thing you love about yourself

do you want a pet? if so, what pet and why

(pls at this rate, its sounding like an interview, so sorry 😂 i'm just...i have a lot of time in my hands and i decided to do this for no particular reason)

fave type of music?

what made you like bsd? and did you always like it? (cause for me, i didnt like it too much at first but it grew on me the second time around)

have you read the bsd light novels and what's your fave light novel if yes?

any pet peeves?

what's your 'ideal' partner (do you have a type like Kunikida or are you fine with anything as long as you're having fun)

Would you rather be single and rich or taken and with a normal salary?

are you happy with where you work/study?

what's your dream career?

what's the app you use the most?

would you rather draw or write?

*** (P.S just pick the ones you want to answer) **

i think im going to look like a weirdo asking so much questions but whatever. at least we dont know each other HAHA i hope you have a good day. <3 and also i love your analyses. just keep posting what you like. i find some of your posts funny lol

good day.

(# you asked and i delivered) (# just me looking for an excuse to use this line) (# cause you said you wanted more questions in your other post TT) (# also ik this isn't a real tag but i wanna be ✨creative) (# fan behavior? idk anymore lmao) okay bye mwa <3

KHJDKJKSAJDGKJSFKG I LOVE THIS I LOVE YOU I WILL BEGIN ANSWERING NOW

i have no free time. I either overwork myself or sleep. however, assuming that i've got a sliver of time to do something, I swap from one obsession to the next <3 rn it's going for insanely long bike rides and turn down every road I feel like until I'm lost,, and going to the gym like an absolute maniac bc i want my arms to be the size of a regular adult's legs

my username is what i desire in life. it is was I strive to be worthy of. it is beauty and life itself, it is the culmination of the universe's most wonderous accomplishments all squished into two raging enormous, gargantuan muscular earth shattering sea trembling ass cheeks 😩😩 (BUT in all seriousness I chose this bc I felt like having tecchousthiccthighs wasn't quite as pleasant??? eheheh buttocks is a funny word)

MY TALENT IS SAYING ANYTHING THAT CROSSES MY MIND TO STRANGERS i've been on this spree lately where I just straight up call anyone pretty when I run into them and HOLY MOLY PPL ARE SO CUTE ABT IT this is your sign to compliment someone today ✨✨ but nah baby i'm good at everything it's a curse ngl (U CAN CALL ME WTV HUN IT'S OK KJKDJFKJS UR SO ADORABLE WHAT)

no best friend bc i can't do commitment and bully friends that get too close to me 😍😍 BUT i'm gonna tag @bellyjellyfish for being my one and only and somehow not hating me thru my unironic "uwu" phase <33

I wrote a 700 page story when I was 12 and it remains unfinished bc I kept rambling and there was no plot 🕴️I love writing but abandon a whole lot of works bc I dream up the rest of the plot and go "oh well why write it now i've been there done that" I DO WRITE FANFICS 👁️👁️ I have a wp account where i wrote a bunch of awful stories and it still stands to this day! (no i will not disclose it don't even try me grr)

I hate how sexy I am 😭😭😭😩😩😩🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

I love how sexy I am 😳😳😳😳🥶🥶🥶🥶😜😜😜😜

I WANT A TARANTULA I WANT A TARANTULA I WAS A CHILEAN RED KNEE TARANTULA AND I WANT ONE SO BADLY OMFG I've always liked spiders but the ppl I live with would absolutely kick me out if I got one??? once i live on my own i'm def buying two cages so that whenever I have guests, I just put out the empty cage, hide the real one, and be like "oh no what happened to billy my tarantula, he escaped again :(" just to wreak havoc

(HAHA NO IT'S OK I USUALLY DO THIS TO OTHER PPL SO I APPRECIATE U SM LOL SLIDE INTO MY DMS BBG)

fav type of music is classical bc i'm edgy and not like other girls 🤩🤩🤩 something about la campanella just hit so hard when I was like 10 that I have taken it and ran, but I do listen to rnb a lot, never in just one language tho bc sometimes english sucks my d

I liked bsd as soon as I saw ranpo's silhouette in the first episode, I was like "him. I want him 🏃‍♀️" but it was solidified in my head as soon as I saw natsume bc 1) he's hot AF IT'S NOT FAIR I WANT HIM 2) I had been reading his irl works and fell in love, so I started exploring other bsd authors and it introduced me to gogol (i'm so in love with his writing style it's not ok) soooo yeah :)) I started reading bc someone (you know who you are) liked chuuya and I haven't looked back since, tbh it's one of my favs just bc of the characters and their depth

I've read all the light novels I could get my hands on, and I have to say stormbringer FOR THE ONLY, SOLE REASON THAT I AM IN ABSOLUTE LOVE WITH ADAM

pet peeve hmmmm idk??? i'm chill with everything except pickles I hate those mfs, but if I had to chose smth it would be when someone shoves a ship down my throat (it's me i'm bitches go stan satosugu rn)

no ideal partner! I'm aro fyi, but also I feel like I'd be chill with just abt anything?? if u match my energy, we can be partners in chaos and i'll feel understood, and if you don't, I get to learn abt a different kind of lifestyle and get to have someone sane to hold me down (or to corrupt), so either way it's a win. I find culture to be incredibly attractive, speak a language I don't or tell me about a tradition of yours with a wholesome smile and I'd move mountains for you 💖💖 teach me abt something that you're emotionally invested in and an expert, and I'm literally yours <3

haha i don't ever wanna be in a relationship so i'll take being rich,, but honestly it ain't about the money, i'd want to have a normal salary and be taken, but it just ain't my vibe ?? dunno how to explain erm-

dream career is racecar driver YOU TRAVEL ACROSS THE WORLD TO ICONIC DESTINATIONS YOU GET PAID INSANE MONEY AND YOU GO VROOM VROOM VERY FAST WHILE CONSTANTLY ALMOST DYING WHAT ELSE DO I NEED IN LIFE????

app i use most is my local library app bc i'm constantly trying to renew my books that are incredibly close to being overdue 🫡 but nahh i don't use my phone that often it still irks me i'm actually a 60 year old gilf who hates technology and complains abt kids these days

I CAN'T DRAW BUT I ALSO CAN'T WRITE YOU'VE GOT ME AT A DEADLOCK BRO??? if it's which I would rather be GOOD at, i'd say drawing bc imagine thinking abt something and just printing it out on paper??? yall fr got some magical talent omg

WHAT IF WE DO KNOW EACH OTHER THO??? WHAT IF WE'RE ACTUALLY NEIGHBORS??? CHILDHOOD FRIENDS??? YOU NEVER KNOW AND YOU PROBABLY NEVER WILL MUAHAHAHAHA i'm gonna stop now but ty for all your questions and have a wonderful day, darling <33

[mostlymaudlin]

For the writer ask meme! I love these :)

37 & 38 - @jtl-fics

thank u ash!!

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

AHHHH collabs make me really nervous bc im bossy and controlling lmao so i need someone whose writing i admire and look up to and also will both fight me and still like me afterward. which is why i would LOOOOOOOVE to collab w laureb @starwarned. and..... well................ hehe. moving on.

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?

OOOH ok ive written a couple fics that were like literally crack but i think my funniest fic overall TO ME is my high school AU, We Can Live Forever. the title is from a one direction song, which is automatically funny, and then it just is a wild ride thru my sense of humor after that. i wrote most of this fic while zooted too, which explains a lot lol. i was actually just talking abt this particular scene with aforemention laureb the other day -- im putting it under the cut bc it's long but it's like the funniest thing ive ever written:

All the chairs are taken when Andrew steps outside holding two shitty chicken caesar wraps. Several of their occupants are reenacting moments from their last game using various lunch items. Andrew only has to watch the affair for a moment before he figures out he is being represented in the tupperware goal by an empty juice box.

Neil is sitting with his elbows resting on the table, watching with a small smile. He shifts to sneak a french fry off Kevin’s tray while he isn’t looking, then looks over to the cafeteria door. His grin splits open when he spots Andrew, and he pushes his chair back, gesturing toward his lap in offering.

Andrew sighs. He only allows his brain to read the situation as Gay Disaster and Object of Affection for about a second when he sits sideways across Neil’s thighs, Neil’s arm wrapping loosely around his waist to hold him in place. Then, Andrew realigns himself with what the situation actually is: Andrew and Neil, doing something they’ve been doing since they were seven years old. He relaxes, handing Neil his sandwich and ripping the cling wrap off his own.

“Which one are you?” Andrew asks, jerking his chin toward where a poptart has dodged its clementine backliner mark to charge at juice-box-Andrew in goal.

“I’m on the bench for this play,” Neil says.

“And then, Andrew! You were like, PSHAAHHHH!” Laila says, waving an imaginary racquet in the air to demonstrate the block Andrew had made. Matt imitates her general movement with the juicebox. “And the Allenstown guy was so mad, he tried to punch Jean!” Jeremy throws the poptart at an empty Coke can.

Andrew nods, taking a bite of his wrap. Copious amounts of shredded cheese fall onto his lap, so he brushes it all to the ground.

“I was a protein bar earlier.” Neil finally succeeds in unwrapping his sandwich using only one hand. “But then Nicky ate me.”

“Hmmm,” Andrew responds, eyeing his cousin across the table. String-cheese-Kevin scores on the opposing team. Nicky dumps a splash of Gatorade on it (and Allison’s hand) as everyone cheers.

Neil leans forward, and Andrew feels his breath on his earlobe.

“Want to know why you’re the juicebox?”

“Do I?” Andrew asks, willing every nerve in his body to stand down.

“Matt says it’s because you’re a little squirt,” Neil whispers, squeezing slightly at Andrew’s waist before leaning back against the chair. Andrew twists to glare at him.

“Don’t blame me,” Neil says, laughing. “I said you should’ve been Kevin’s hamburger — strong and beefy. But Kevin is selfish, and he was unwilling to sacrifice his hamburger for your good name.”

“Damn straight,” Kevin mumbles beside Neil, wiping off the plastic-wrapped cheese stick with a napkin before placing it back at center court.

[animaniacsxposed]

Im someone that was in saneytwt around the time A! first came out in 2020 and let me tell you I've NEVER seen so many people cry "you better not ship the Warners!" or "ThEyRe mInOrS U cAnT sImP for ThEM" by SO many people who claim they can't stand that stuff just for them to do it!

There was a massive saneytwt block list going around and the people thay were added weren't even genuinely shipping it but the person was going through the warnercest tag to look at warnercest art to get the names of people thay were leaving likes. Do you see how NUTS of an exscuse that is?! The list got long enough to about 100+ people until OP realized she was getting nowhere with this and deleted it because everyone used it to follow each other.

Then there was a popular yakwak author we kicked IMMEDIATELY once it came out he brought a child into a nsfw server and groomed them into being their bf. The moment that happened saneytwt notified each other and he was exiles and kicked out of the fandom entirely.

Then the funniest thing to happen so far was one die hard anti was trolling a few authors accounts because they wrote yakdot fics and to counter that, she wrote a disgustingly gorey fic about the warners canabalizing a saneytwt fan (but you know the saying 'dont like dont look' and nobidy looked lmao!) The die hard anti also went undercover to "infiltrate saneytwt" I swear to God! They were so into their "role" that they drew tons of yakwak and shipped it hard. Then the day came where she admitted she was the anti harassing the authors in the beginning for the same thing she likes.

And then a big gimmick account with 100K following told their following of minors about warnercest and made them flood the #Warnercest with spam and hateful messages telling people to kill themselves etc etc...the evidence is all still there if you ever wonder why you see a bunch of brainwashed piss babies spamming the tag.

That's just the tip of the iceberg. As someone who's experienced ALL of this first hand from zanytwt and much from most of the people mentioned below, I want to thank you so much for exposing these losers and creeps. No one would listen to us for years and people have bothered us for no reason for years, the only exscuse they had for harassing us was because we shipped, wrote and drew warnercest, as if there isn't bigger problems in the world like people dying, uneducated kids and real child abuse going on around them everyday. Fuck all of these guys they're getting exactly what they deserve.

Good lord I cannot imagine being this uptight about cartoons. I am terribly sorry to hear all you guys have gone through anon and I hope this blog can bring some sort of closure or peace if it has deeply effected you. These guys are just depraved and jealous that that you are not afraid to say the things you love out loud and they are afraid because they build their following on hating the thing they really like. Then it all comes crashing down when they can't keep up the facade or have no one to talk to about the thing they really like.

[wilt3d-r0zes]

hey i also wrote this but im lazy and dont want 2 do the whole formatting thing so it’s on ao3 and heres the summary

(ps its also inspired by providence by lemonaeden. uhm. but less obviously, so)

The Sand Was Hot

idk i got bored and ive wanted 2 write lifesmp/hermitcraft stuff

(Grian after he kills Scar, before and during him leaping off the edge.)

fic is under the cut btw if u hate ao3 im just too lazy 2 do tags & stuff 

warnings 4 suicide 

The sand was hot.

The sand was always hot, he supposed. The sand was rarely normal temperature, never cold. That's what usually happens when you live in the desert, the sand gets hot. The sun beats down on it for hours and hours on end, with hot, humid air, and the sand gets hot. Hot enough that you can't walk around barefoot, or you'll burn your feet.

Not that he ever wanted to walk around barefoot. There was already sand everywhere, he didn't need more brought into their home.

He looked down at his feet. It doesn't matter if he goes barefoot now, anyways. He won't be going back inside.

(He won't be going anywhere except down.)

The cliff under his feet looms, but it still feels like the right decision. This was the right thing to do. He just beat his best friend, his partner in crime, his lifelong companion to death with his bare hands.

Scar's blood is still on his hands. On his sweater and jeans, his own blood seeping through pinprick holes and long scratches from the cacti ring. Bruises forming on spots where Scar's fists awkwardly connected.

It almost feels worse, knowing Scar couldn't bring himself to fight Grian properly. Watching him fib missing his punches over and over again, running around and into Grian's hits.

The sand burns, when he takes off his sandals. Staring down at the sand between his red-painted toes. If he could cry, he probably would be. Or maybe he wouldn't, an emotional display to the ghosts of his friends he can distantly hear surrounding him, watching him.

Watching him take off his shoes and stand in the burning hot sand of the desert. He looks back up, staring out at the horizon. If he doesn't look down, it won't be as painful.

He steps forward, and it feels like every grain of sand burns individually into his feet. A sense of pain that brings the reality crashing through his dissociation.

He falls forward, eyes locked with the sun as it sets over his home. It's a beautiful sunset. The sunset are always beautiful, because you never know when it would be the last one you'd see.

He supposes he does know, now, feeling the air violently blow his hair back as he falls, crashing into the burning sand and disappearing into a pile of Scar's belongings at the bottom of their hill.

[yuquinzel]

hi user yuquinzel >< do u remember when u first started writing here on tumblr?? im planning on opening my acc and idk where to start :'( do u have any ideas how to?? T_T

— hihi anon !! i remember when i made my first post vry well omg it was in september last year + i had no idea how tumblr worked, i wrote for jjk & posted it thinking nothing of it BUT then it got a lil love & it got over 1k notes & so i dedicated some time to figuring out how this site worked :') i actually had no plans to continue posting, i only wrote in drafts & for my eyes only, i even went on a 7 months break bc i didn't think much of this blog T_T

im not sure I'm the best person to come to for advice but i'll tell you what i think might make ur experience a little more fun :]]

i think it mainly depends on what goal you have in mind when you start a blog. is it to simply write because you have these super cool ideas, or to share your works with others, or if you're aiming to be a successful writing blog i suppose?

-> making tags for your blog makes it fun ( at least for me) and it makes your blog sorted and organised !! i hate how messy my blog was at first ;-; make ur pinned post, make your theme, treat ur blog the way you'd decorate your first and new apartment LOL

-> also like make sure your posts show up in tags!! tumblr sucks sometimes and new posts from new blogs don't show up in the tags at first so be mindful of that ! + add appropriate tags so that it reaches the audience ur aiming for ig?

-> set your boundaries and rules !! they are absolutely non negotiable lol, and will set the rhythm for ur future interactions

-> when it comes to writing, having some sort of unique touch to your works makes you stand out yk? it makes your blog more engaging + something to remember !!

-> that's not to say you HAVE to be different, it's important to remember to be comfortable w your writing and take as much time as it takes to make your blog your safe space !!

-> something i struggled w was comparison :') please don't EVER compare your skills w anyone else. you have your own style and rhythm, the essence of writing lies in enjoying the process of it coming together

-> interact w people more !! make friends, read more + have fun !! that is something i regret never doing much but it's one of the best parts of running a blog on this site :P

honestly that's all i can think of for now T_T i wish i had known these all from the start but i hope these help you !! good luck for your future blog omg, i definitely wna know more about it in the future !!