#i promise i'm trying to survive all this lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairyysoup · 4 months ago

Text

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again.

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever.

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you.

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world.

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing.

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you.

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you.

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt.

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture.

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough.

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you.

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him.

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else.

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me.

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.”

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?”

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.”

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.”

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.”

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur.

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear.

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?”

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.”

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t.

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now.

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected.

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin.

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier.

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate.

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is?

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet.

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window.

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes.

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins.

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?”

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now.

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder.

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again.

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan.

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs.

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.”

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.”

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it.

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again.

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you.

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap.

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness.

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head.

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does.

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down.

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet.

To keep you quiet.

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.”

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table.

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other.

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss.

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear.

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

#eric a quiet place day one #eric a quiet place x reader #a quiet place day one #roses*#eric x reader #eric a quiet place day one x you #eric a quiet place x you #eric a quiet place day one x reader #eric fan fiction #eric x you #joseph quinn

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taeyongdoyoung · 9 days ago

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bear or man?

summary: you follow your secretive roommate deep into the forest and what you discover surprises you... pairing: werebear/bear shifter!haechan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: y/n stalking (?) haechan, meeting a bear (?) in the forest, reader is lowkey a bimbo lol, running, licking, mentions of pee, cuddling a bear (don't try this at home), supernatural elements, fuzzy memories, fear of accidentally killing someone, confessions, kissing, hugging, squeezing face (is that a thing?), eating out, strength kink, size kink, unprotected sex in the woods (stay safe yall), dumbification, creampie author's note: this fic is inspired by the infamous "bear or man?" social media debate and i took some creative liberty to choose the best of both worlds aka THE haechan, duh word count: 2.5k

You have the best roommate ever. True, Haechan doesn't do much, mostly keeping to himself. When he's not working, he's sleeping all day in his room and probably gaming all night long. But what makes you like Haechan so much is that he's not invading your personal space. He's super funny and sweet to you. Whenever he goes shopping, Haechan always makes sure to buy you your favourite snacks, even without you asking for them. He sometimes gets you random gifts like cute pens he finds or little flowers every once in a while. In conclusion, the perfect roommate.

Haechan does have one flaw, however. Once a month, he goes missing. Once a month and it always coincides with the full moon. Now, he cannot possibly be a werewolf, because you, as any sane person, know that those things don't exist. But your curiosity is so strong that one night, you decide to follow him. You are aware that what you're doing is very wrong, especially considering that he's always been respectful towards your privacy. But at the end of the day, you're just a 🎀girl🎀. You can't possibly imagine sleeping another night without cracking his secret.

If it were you and you had a huge secret, you would totally tell him. After all, Haechan's not just your roommate's he's also your bestie. So, you need to know. At least, that's how you excuse your actions as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. What the hell? This is really suspicious...You swear you have your eyes on him when all of a sudden, he disappears. Eh? He was right here...You walk even further but Haechan is nowhere to be seen. Okay, you should probably head back home now.

And then, you see it. A giant brown bear staring at you. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!! Alright, you try to stay calm and remember all the tips on surviving a bear encounter you read one time on the Internet out of sheer curiosity. Um, the first thing was probably not to run, as bears are incredibly fast. Yeah, no, fuck that. You start running but you don't make it far before the bear catches up with you. You trip and fall on the ground, already accepting the fact that you are probably going to die tonight. Okay, erm, what other advice did the Internet tell you?

You manage to get up and identify yourself as a human, slowly waving your arms and trying to speak calmly.

"Um, please don't eat me, bear," you murmur. "I'm not delicious, I promise."

At the mention of the word delicious, the bear quickly runs towards you. Your knees give out in sheer horror and you fall on your back. The bear stands nearly on top of you, sniffing in...curiosity? Hunger? God, you really hope the bear has eaten something already. You wonder if you have food in your bag. Will that make the bear angrier or calmer? Ughh, you don't remember the tips anymore. You feel so stupid and close your eyes, not bearing (pun-intended) the thought of staring death in its face.

Then, you feel something moist and slippery all over your face. Fuckk, is the bear licking you? Great, at least bears do foreplay before eating their victims. So much fun. Time passes and you are in disbelief your head hasn't been torn off its shoulders by now. You are also in disbelief that you still haven't passed out or pissed yourself or something even more embarrassing...You sneak a quick glance at the bear and it's still there, licking your face and looking at you.

God, you can't take this any longer. You try to move a little and to your immense shock, the bear gives you the space needed to get up. You do as you planned. Okay, so running doesn't help. But neither does staying in one place. What are you supposed to do? The bear seems to sense your uncertainty and stands on two feet. Does that mean it's curious or trying to intimidate you? You honestly have no idea. Then, the bear extends its front arms as if offering a hug. If it weren't for this dangerous situation, you would have totally found it cute.

Well, to be honest, it is kinda cute. Damnit, what is wrong with you? You figure that if you are meant to die tonight, then you might as well go out with a bang, right? You rush into the bear's arms, immediately being enveloped by a warm hug. Fuck, it is so soft and cozy! You feel like a total idiot but the fact it hasn't eaten you yet gives you some shred of hope.

Soon, the bear tires of standing on two feet and releases you from its tight grip. Aww, is it over already? You curse yourself for even thinking it. The bear lies down on the muddy ground and using its paw and claws, makes you lie down next to it. Eh?!?! You do as it suggests, making peace with your fate. Then, the bear once again hugs you strongly and soon after, it falls asleep!

Yep, running away is definitely out of the question. It didn't eat you but it didn't let you escape, either. What the actual hell is going on? As you rack your brain for answers, you feel exhaustion coming over you, and eventually, sleep visits you, too.

You wake up to the light of sunrays. In the middle of the forest. Recalling the shocking events of last night, you are immediately stunned upon realizing the bear is nowhere to be seen. Instead, next to you is the naked sleeping figure of your best friend, your roommate...Haechan! What is he even doing here?

You quickly take off your jacket and put it on him, because he looks terribly cold. Why is he naked? Is he an exhibitionist? Was that his big secret? You shake his arm roughly, waking him up.

"Mmn, Y/N? What are you doing here?" he murmurs sleepily.

"What are you doing here and why the fuck are you naked?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Haechan whispers.

"Oh, yeah? Fucking try me! You won't believe the night I had. First, I followed you, because you always disappear during a full moon and I was incredibly curious. I know it was wrong but I really couldn't resist the temptation. Then, as I was following you into the forest, you suddenly vanished. And I ran into this huge bear, at first I ran a bit, but the bear was faster and caught up with me. And then I thought I was going to die but the bear didn't eat me, instead it just licked my face and cuddled me! Finally, the bear fell asleep and at some point so did I. So, whatever you wanna tell me, it can't be crazier than THAT," you exhale deeply, as you finish recounting your story.

"I am that bear," Haechan confesses. Okay, now THAT is crazier. "Well, technically I'm a bear shifter or a werebear, I'm not really familiar with the appropriate terminology, but uhm, yeah."

"Is that why you didn't attack me? Because you knew subconsciously it was...well, me," you try to find a logical explanation to this very bizarre situation.

"Honestly, my memories of last night are hazy," Haechan explains. "This happens every month. Whenever I transform into a bear, I have no recollection of what I do. I just know the transformation happened, as usual."

"If you don't have your memories, then, how do you know you didn't accidentally harm or...kill someone?" you mumble nervously. "Not that I believe you're capable of it. Just asking out of concern for your sanity."

"I keep track of all the news happening in our town. And there haven't been any bear attacks."

"But what if there is a bear attack one day? How will you know whether it was an actual bear or...you?" you begin to panic, just thinking of the possibility.

"Trust me, I'll know. There haven't been any bears in our town, period. Just me," Haechan says and the way he says it, God...He really is one of a kind.

"Oh. That's good, I suppose. But, just in case...would it be okay if I stick by your side every full moon from now on? Make sure you don't hurt anyone or...well, yourself."

"I can't ask that of you," Haechan shakes his head.

"You're not asking, I'm offering," you shrug calmly. "Seriously, Hyuck, if you accidentally kill someone while you're in your bear form, I'd probably forgive you and try to hide the body..."

"You're crazy," Haechan chuckles, somewhat amused by your words. "I wouldn't forgive myself. I'd just...turn myself in."

You nod and while the thought of your best friend in prison terrifies you, you are determined to not let it happen.

"Guess it's a good thing I'll be around to make sure you never kill anyone," you grin and rush to give him a hug, completely forgetting he's half-naked. Uhhh...You feel something unusual. "S-sorry."

You take a step back hesitantly, giving him some space.

"I should probably run to the store to get you some pants."

"It's fine," Haechan replies. "You already saw me in my bear form, I don't think seeing me naked is that embarrassing."

"Fair point," you giggle and try your best to focus on his beautiful soft brown eyes.

"I'll understand it if you wanna move out..." Haechan says out of nowhere.

"What? I don't wanna move out. You're everything to me. Being a bear shifter changes nothing about how I feel. Haechan, I trust you. After last night, even more than I already did, but...Um, yes, just remember that I trust you and I love you."

Haechan blinks in surprise, not saying anything for a while. Realizing what you just blurted out, you press a hand against your mouth. As if you could take it back. Scratch that, you don't want to take it back. It was the truth.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said that right now," you sigh. "But, it still stands."

"I love you, too," Haechan replies gently.

"You...you don't have to feel forced to say it back!" you insist.

"I don't feel forced," Haechan takes a step forward. "I just thought you should know. The reason why I didn't tell you about being a bear shifter is that I was afraid you'd view me differently. But knowing you don't think I'm disgusting or something...it makes me wanna say it even more."

"Oh, Hyuck," you sigh wistfully and cannot take it any longer, crashing your lips into his in a passionate kiss. "There's nothing disgusting about you. You're perfect and so amazing," you manage to say in-between kisses.

"Yeah?" he smirks sinisterly. "You're even more amazing for not peeing your pants last night..."

"Hey, I thought you didn't remember anything!" you call him out.

"It's slowly coming back to me," Haechan confesses. "Care to remind me what else we did?"

"Hmm, maybe this?" you grab his wrist and this time you're the one pulling him to lie down on the muddy ground next to you. "And then, this?" you wrap your arms around him in another sweet hug.

Haechan gets rid of the jacket you gave him, remaining fully naked once again. You want to look away but he seems to have another idea in mind. He squishes your cheeks with one hand, sending goosebumps down your spine.

"Wanna try something different?"

"Sure, anything," you say dumbly, trusting him more than you probably should.

"I didn't get to eat you last night. But I will now," Haechan smirks cruelly and wastes no time in getting rid of your comfy jeans. Oh. Fucking hell...He tears your panties apart carelessly and dives right in, truly devouring your pussy in every sense of the word. You don't think you've ever been so wet in your entire life. But honestly, even if he did literally eat you, you'd probably be happy to die by his hands. Or his mouth. Shit, your brain doesn't work anymore. As Haechan drinks from your juices, you think that this is probably the only man you'd let do something so crazy. And with the vivid memories of last night, you truly can't imagine trusting someone else so completely. Before you realize, you're falling apart against his tongue. He holds you down with his strong arms as you are thrashing and begging for him. You don't know what you're begging for. But he seems to know you better. Because he gives you just what you need, exactly how you need it.

You pull him up towards you and kiss him again and again.

"Fuck, Hyuck, you really wanna kill me, huh?"

"You have no idea," he sighs and buries his head in your shoulder. "I hate to ask this of you but can you run to the store and get me some pants like you offered?"

"What? Right now?" you sigh regretfully. "Weren't we going to...you know?"

"Trust me, honey, there's nothing I'd like more. But, me not having any pants does, unfortunately, include me not having any condoms, either."

"Oh. Fuck that, I don't care. You can fuck me raw, I mean if it's okay with you. No pressure or anything," you blurt out without thinking.

"Are you sure?" Haechan asks in amazement.

"I'll grab a pill after, it's fine. Seriously, I don't mi-" you haven't even finished your sentence when Haechan buries his cock inside of you. Fuck, he's so huge.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I couldn't resist any longer," he grunts, as he fucks into you like a wild animal. Well...he kinda is. But he's your wild animal.

"Hah, it's okay," you manage, kissing him again in the process of trying to adjust to his size. "You're kinda enormous."

"Kinda?" Haechan repeats smugly. Oh, that bastard.

"I love you," you want to say it over and over again, you don't care.

"I love you more," Haechan responds fondly, while his cock pierces through your insides.

"I love you the most," you are competitive even in this.

"Yeah?" he laughs. "We'll see about that."

"Hyuuuckles," you moan, the pleasure and the warmth and the slight but bearable (pun-intended) pain being too much and yet not nearly enough.

"Hyuckles, huh?" he chuckles, the sweetest sound in the universe. "I think I like that."

"I'll call you whatever you want, whenever you want," you promise.

"Aww, baby, did my cock make you go dumb already?" he mocks you gently.

"I've always been dumb for you," you admit.

"I think I'll cum soon," Haechan warns. "I can still pull out if you-"

"Nooo, don't," you beg him recklessly. "Cum inside, please."

"Say no more," Haechan rushes through his words and apparently he was already holding himself back, because his release arrives right away, filling you up to the fullest. You come again almost at the same time, gripping him tightly, not wanting to let go. Not yet, anyway.

"Can we go again?" you pout, as Haechan does his best to clean you both up with the tissues he found in your bag. Because, yes, you went into a forest all alone with a bag full of your phone, tissues, your lipbalm and some water. Very responsible, yes.

"Girl, give me a break," Haechan moans, half-complaining, half-satisfied and already anticipating your next adventure.

"You love me," you giggle, feeling so happy to be here, with him.

"I do," he admits.

And that is why, you would always choose the bear.

The End

#nct #haechan #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #haechan imagines #writing

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d1xonss · 10 months ago

Note

Hi!! Could I request a one shot where reader and Daryl are like complete opposites?? But he realizes eventually he’s grown to love her or something like that?? Thank you!

Enchanting

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5/6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3.6k

AN ~ Thank you so much for this request! I’ve been writing some pretty sad stuff lately so I’m glad to have something on the lighter side lol. I tried my best with this considering I haven't been writing much outside of the series I've been updating. But I'm always up for the practice. Hope you enjoy!

He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. How someone so fragile, so delicate, so perfect, survived this long in a world as shitty as this.

Alexandria as a whole felt like a dream within itself. Arriving with his family at the giant gates after living a life of hell on the road, it was something he would call a miracle. Though he hardly believed in such a thing, he thought this was as close as it was going to get. Houses lined up down the road, running water, electricity, it almost seemed too unreal to him to even want to stay in a place like this.

It took him some time to get adjusted, some of his people having to drag him out of the house by his hair to actually give this place a chance. They wanted him to open up, socialize a bit more with some of the people in the community seeing as they were planning to stay in this dream-like place.

Carol was the most persistent of them all. She poked and prodded at him for days to get out of the house and actually give this place a chance. He would argue and say that he had left the house since their arrival, but in her mind, going out for hours to hunt was hardly the socializing she had in mind. All she wanted was for Daryl to be able to thrive here as the rest of them were slowly doing, not wanting to see him completely shut himself out.

So, after a whole week of trying to coax him out of the secure home, he finally agreed to a party.

Did he enjoy parties? No, absolutely not. He didn’t know what to do at those types of events, not knowing how to really talk with others freely as it wasn’t exactly his strong suit. He would most likely just awkwardly stand in the corner by himself until enough time passed for him to be able to leave. And at least then he could say he tried.

When the day finally came it was safe to say he was a little nervous. He hadn’t talked to really anyone outside of his close knit group in what felt like forever. He had no idea if he would even be good at the whole “small talk” thing as he never once was to begin with. But still, he promised he’d try.

So, after getting back from a hunt he went on earlier that day, he headed towards the lit up house as instructed. Though the closer he got, the more nervous he became. His palms began to sweat a little as he wiped them a few different times on his jeans, trying to swallow whatever anxiety was creeping back up to haunt him. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but it was. To him, it was.

He eventually forced himself to open up the front door with almost instant regret, seeing a few turning heads to notice his presence in the room. Though he tried to ignore it for the most part, only nodding to the familiar faces he saw in different areas of the mostly filled house. He already grew uncomfortable at the watchful eyes that managed to follow him, purposefully looking away as he kept his head down while he moved.

Alright, time to find a corner, he thought to himself as he subtly scoped the place out, preparing to be alone for most of the night.

“Daryl!”

Damnit.

He reluctantly turned his head to see Carol approaching him rather quickly with a wide smile on her face as she quickly brought him into a hug, “Oh, I’m so happy you made it.”

“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod as he patted her back awkwardly before she finally pulled away, “Said I’d try…so m’ tryin.”

“And I’m very proud of you.” she said sincerely as she placed a hand on his cheek for a moment, before pulling back with an even larger smile, “You want something to drink?”

He dipped his head in a nod of appreciation as she tapped his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” she promised, before turning around to maneuver through the sea of people.

Daryl patted the sides of his legs nervously as he waited for her return, scanning over different things in the house that caught his attention. One was the slightly flickering light above his head, another was the music playing somewhat softly in the background of people’s loud conversations. And the third was a laugh. A quite delightful laugh that had his attention from the second it hit his ears.

Daryl’s head whipped in the direction of the sudden delicate noise, his eyes catching sight of a woman he had never seen around the community before. Over the past week he had managed to see a few other residents of Alexandria when he traveled outside, sending them a polite nod when he passed through. But he had never seen you before.

He watched intently as you interacted with someone else from right next to you, whispering something close to your ear as you let out another light and enchanting laugh. His eyes moved over the features of your face, seeing your eyes crinkling at the corners and dimples forming on your cheeks from how wide you smiled. His lips parted a little at the sight, his head even tilting a bit to the side as he continued to study your movements.

You occasionally tucked a piece of hair behind your ear everytime it got in the way of your eyes, your hand effortlessly falling back down to grasp the cup of the drink you held in your hands. Your nose occasionally scrunched up a bit as you spoke, clearly about something that brought you joy and it intrigued Daryl more than he was willing to admit. A part of him wanted to get closer to hear the delightful story you were surely telling. He could in fact almost make out the sound of your voice from where he stood-

“Here’s your drink.” Carol’s voice quickly cut into his thoughts.

He practically jumped out of his skin at her arrival, glancing down to see the beer bottle in her hands before swiping it in his own grasp with a quiet thanks. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion as now all Daryl could seem to focus on was the ground, but curiosity got the better of her as to why he was so jumpy. Her eyes glanced behind her shoulder and did a scan of the surroundings…before a smirk was brought to her face.

“She’s pretty.” she commented casually.

Daryl’s eyes flew up to meet her smug expression with a scoff, “Dunno what yer talkin bout.” he brushed off as he raised the bottle to meet his lips.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m not dense, Daryl, and neither are you…” she trailed off before glancing back once more to catch you laughing yet again, “I think you should go talk to her.”

A scoff was the only response he could come up with, a reddened pigment covering his cheeks at the suggestion. You were already having a good time, why the hell would you want to talk to someone like him instead.

“I’m serious.” Carol pushed, “I think it’s the right kind of socializing you need.” she finished with a wink.

He gave her a pointed look as he took another swig of the liquid, his eyes panning back over towards you as the person whom you were once talking with, suddenly walked away. So now you stood alone, swaying back and forth a little to the music in content as you occasionally took a sip from your own drink as well.

“Well, would you look at that…a spot seemed to open up.” Carol teased as she nudged his side a little to which he just brushed her away with an annoyed grunt.

Though he couldn’t argue as he continued to casually glance at you still standing alone, though it looked like you didn’t mind too much. You looked almost too peaceful in a cramped party filled to the brim with people. Maybe he should take a chance. Just this once in his life maybe the leap of faith would do him some good, giving him an opportunity to talk to you.

After having an eternal inner debate with himself and a loud sigh left his lips, he finally pushed himself to move forward. He tried to ignore Carol’s wide smile in encouragement as he passed by her completely, but it truly was hard to ignore. He huffed as he moved further, awkwardly squeezing by a few people lingering in the way before he could reach you.

Although it happened all too fast, now standing in front of you with somewhat of a blank expression as you now looked him in the eye. Daryl swallowed thickly as he stood frozen upon seeing your gaze match his, your eyes were beautiful as they seemed to hold something much more than he was expecting. Everything about you seemed to make time stop for him.

“Hi.” you greeted politely after a few seconds of silence, sending a smile his way that almost caused him to melt.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.” he responded dryly, now almost panicking as he didn’t think this through as much as he should’ve. He was suddenly rendered speechless, not knowing what to say next as you looked at him almost expectantly.

Though your eyes narrowed the smallest bit, the smile still remaining on your face, “I recognize you, you’re new.” you stated with a raised finger, “Apart of Rick’s group, right? Daryl?”

“Uh huh.” he mumbled as he continued to stare, almost in disbelief that you had recalled seeing him before, enough to recognize him and even know his name. He’d almost wished you would repeat his name again so he could hear you say it just once more.

Your smile widened even more if that were possible as you suddenly held out your hand for him to take, “I’m (Y/N).”

And just like that, after hearing your name for the very first time, he could never seem to get it out of his head. He didn't necessarily know it then, but you would soon become a person that Daryl cared very much for. Someone he would give up his life for. Someone he would grow to love.

He was infatuated with you, slowly finding the time to leave the house more and more so he could have a chance at catching you outside as well. Normally he would never be so bold as to plan something like this just to get a chance to talk to you, but he couldn’t help it. There was just something so special about you that he couldn’t ignore.

Months in the community went by just like that, getting countless chances and opportunities to spend more time with you on multiple occasions. You were honestly flattered that the stoic man wanted to seek you out whenever he got the chance, offering to help fix something in your house or inviting you out on one of his hunts, you were always excited upon his arrival.

In exchange you would always have something to give him in return for his countless acts of kindness. Whether it was giving him something you had baked or his worn jeans you offered to patch up and sew, you wanted to give him something. He always seemed to deny your persistence, wanting nothing in return as he thought you were the best gift he could ever receive. But still you pushed, batting your eyelashes at him until he finally agreed to take whatever you presented, leaving you smiling at his bashful state.

You knew of his growing feelings towards you, of course you did. You picked up on it after he stopped by your house about three different times to make sure the bathroom sink he had fixed was still working properly. Daryl however was still painfully oblivious as he failed to realize that after all this time, you too found yourself growing feelings for him.

“I think you should just bite the bullet and ask her.” Carol advised as she mauvered around the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of them.

Daryl’s constant resort was to just scoff at her words as he held his head in one of his hands at the kitchen island, “Alright.” he mumbled sarcastically.

She whipped around with slightly widened eyes, “I’m being serious!” she said as she stirred something heated on the stove, “And you better do it fast before she gets swept up by someone else.”

His eyes quickly snapped up towards her at the possibility, “Ya think that’ll happen?” he asked, not even trying to hide his worry.

He cared for you deeply, unlike anything he had ever felt before, the last thing he wanted to see was you with someone else. But at the same time he was scared. Scared to ask you out for some kind of date if you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. He didn’t want to ruin what he already had with you, he didn’t want to scare you away. But the suggestion of you being with someone besides him now made him worry further.

“I think that it could happen.” Carol corrected, “She’s very kind and pretty, it’s hard for me to believe she hasn’t found someone yet.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing…” Daryl said as he trailed off, “Better then endin up with some asshole like me.”

The woman sighed heavily as she dropped the wooden spoon in her hands and turned around fully to face him, “Daryl, that girl absolutely adores you. You might not be able to see it, but I do. I think you should just…take a chance. Like you did with that party.” she spoke knowingly.

He sent her a glare through his lids, earning a small laugh from her as she turned back around. His mind seemed to wander for a long moment as Carol’s back was facing him now, thinking if now was really the time to make some type of move. He wanted nothing more than to just confess what he’s been feeling for so long, wanting to sweep you off your feet and never let you go. But it wasn’t that easy.

He had thought about this situation before in the past, a lot more than he was willing to admit, but everytime he seemed to always talk himself out of it. He didn’t know how you would react, if you would be offended or flattered. If you would turn him down easy for leave him brokenhearted. There were too many possibilities for him to ignore, too many scenarios to think through.

But in the end you were the kindest person he had ever met and he felt safe with you, safer than he had ever felt before. Perhaps that was the only reason he needed to finally take a chance.

Before he could even process what he was doing, he suddenly stood up from his seat and headed straight towards the front door, trying not to talk himself out of the sudden decision he just made. He was fast and light on his feet as he walked down the porch steps, nearly falling on his ass as he missed the last one in a hurry. But he hardly let it bother him, looking like a man on a mission to others he was passing by on the sidewalk.

The walk to your house felt fast and slow all at once, his heartbeat rapidly pounding in his chest with each step closer he got. He felt his hands begin to sweat a bit as he trudged up the steps to your pretty yellow house, noticing the arrangements of flowers you had on either side of the porch that matched your personality perfectly. He was inches away from the front door now as he stood back and hesitated to knock on the wooden frame to your home. His eyes glanced down for a moment to your welcome mat below his feet, scraping off his dirty boots as he would never wish to track mud into your house.

With his boots clean(ish) and a huff passing from his lips, he finally raised his fist up towards the door to give it a firm and heavy knock, waiting for you to answer. The seconds seemed to go impossibly slow as he waited, wondering to himself if you were even home. You loved to head to the gardens this time of day, picking your share of the fruits and vegetables being grown. Perhaps he had missed you completely, contemplating if he should just turn around and head back seeing as the seconds turned into minutes.

But then he heard it. The faintness of your voice calling through the house that you were coming, followed by the pitter patter of your light and delicate footsteps. He swallowed thickly before the door was suddenly swung open, revealing your smiling face that seemed to light up even more at just the sight of him.

“Hey!” you greeted cheerfully as you bounded forward to close the distance between you two, bringing him in for a tight embrace.

He grunted at the sudden impact, but smiled a bit to himself as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you softly. He feared that he would break you if he squeezed a little too tight.

You pulled back with a smile just as wide as your eyes lingered a bit over his face, “What’s up? You need something?” you asked politely.

He couldn’t help but think that he needed you and only you, but it felt a little wrong to be that blunt right away so he settled with a shake of his head, “Nah, just…just wanted ta see ya.” he spoke honestly.

Your eyes twinkled at the sweetness of him as you laughed lightly, “I’ve been wanting to see you too.” you admitted, “It feels like it’s been too long since we’ve hung out.”

“Yeah,” he grunted as he cleared his throat a little, “Shit’s gettin busier round here.”

You nodded in agreement, a little sympathy on your features as you knew how much he did around here for the community, “But- uh…” he quickly corrected, “I’ll always make time for ya…no matter how busy it gets.” he admitted nervously.

Your heart warmed as you smiled at him sweetly, “You sure?” you asked a bit playfully, “You sure you’re not too busy?” you poked as you ventured out to take his hand softly in yours.

He smiled down at you as you intertwined your fingers with his, as you normally would do, “Never.” he promised.

His eyes then took the time to take in your appearance as he normally would do. Your hair was pulled back a bit as it was tied up with a light pink ribbon, framing your face angelically as a few strands fell from the front and landed just above your cheekbones. He then noticed the sundress that fit your figure beautifully, finding himself loving the many skirts and flowy dresses you constantly wore. And then the jewelry that hung around your neck, a tiny pink diamond that was shaped into a heart as it sat in the middle of your chest.

It was actually a gift he had given you weeks ago, something he had found on a run that just reminded him of you. It was so soft and delicate, and the heart seemed fitting to your style.

“Did you…want to come in for a bit?” you asked as you noticed him grow a little quieter than usual.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your sweet voice, “Oh- uh- nah…I just came over here ta…ask ya somethin.”

“So ask.” you prodded gently with a soft squeeze to his hand that made his knees feel like jelly.

You knew that Daryl often had a hard time with things like this, seeing it made him uncomfortable to say or ask something out of his comfort zone. But you were always so patient with him it blew his mind, always willing to wait for him to just come out and say it.

“Alright, so uh…” he cleared his throat before swallowing thickly, “I was just um…just wonderin…if ya wanted to maybe…go on a ride with me sometime…?”

Your eyes brightened a little as you went to open your mouth to answer, but he quickly cut you off, “Nah, I mean- n-not like just a ride, but like…out together sometime…just the two of us...kinda like-”

His rambling went on for a few more seconds before you decided to cut him off instead. He suddenly clamped his mouth shut in a split second when he felt the softness of your lips brushing across his cheek, leaving a light peck before you pulled away with a smile.

“I’d love to.” you said.

The man was stunned to silence, feeling his face get hot and the burning of his cheek becoming more intense as he tired to process your actions. You couldn’t help but laugh a little to yourself as you gave his hand another comforting squeeze while gazing up at him through your long lashes.

“I’m free tomorrow at noon…if that works for you?”

He stood there in bewilderment for a moment or two before frantically nodding his head, not counting on his words in this moment in time. You nodded back before venturing your hand out of his hold and up towards his face to move some of the hair that had fallen over his eyes. He almost quivered at the feeling of your fingers gently touching his hair, silently wanting more though he would never ask.

“I can’t wait.” you admitted gently and quietly, lulling him back into the same enchanting trance he was hit with the moment he caught sight of you for the first time all those months ago.

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x oc #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

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galedekarios · 8 months ago

Text

this is a personal vent post so please let me just get it all out without trying to come at me lol:

so many ppl saying they respect larian's decision to peace out and not deal with hasbro/wotc, but i have to be honest, i don't respect them at all.

they are leaving a game behind that is unfinished and a narrative mess.

they leave a game behind where everyone paid the same amount of money for it, yet depending on which character you prefer, you get less content.

the disparity between everyone else and their writer's pet ast*rion is insane. he has a half to a third more content depending on which character you compare him to.

they leave behind a sparse act 2, which is already so barren compared to act 1 and all it had to offer. act 3 is a narrative mess and lacks structure.

they leave a game behind where they made promises a handful of weeks before release where they ought to have known that they, in fact, will not be delivering said promises: access to the upper city, consequences for playing certain races across the acts (playing a drow is going to be different in act 1 and gives you advantages vs act 3 where it would give you understandable disadvantages), etc etc etc.

they leave behind a game where content was cut from the companions to make it seem like the origins have something to offer when that system is barely able to compare what origin playthroughs offered in dos2 and it hurts the game and the experience (like tara being cut for companion gale).

they leave behind a game where they promised to much variety and proclaimed in panels from hell how they struggled to show the width and depth of the game, but really? it's about as deep as a puddle. a lot of the choices do not matter. kill ethel? nah, she's alive and well in the city. no sister hags to be angry here. give karlach no infernal iron and never talk to her at all? doesn't matter, she'll survive until the end of act 3 and will still call you her bff. dissuade gale to use the orb? we'll make sure he'll still offer 3 more times just in case. send yenna away from camp bc you don't want her there? doesn't matter, she'll stay. and yes, i'm aware these are all small things, but they are part of a larger problem. almost nothing you do truly matters to the point of where i just skip most things in act 1 and 2 now.

they leave behind a game that they promise to still patch, but some things have been broken since early access / release to the point of where i'm like i'm sorry, but your word that you will continue to patch things means about as much to me as all the other empty promises. the dialogue about morena dekarios is still broken and it's been over half a year now. the astral sea scene has low-res body textures for months. i know from mutuals who love minthara that her romance is still broken. and i could go on and on.

and what gets me the most about this is all is that they have learned nothing at all from dos2: act 3 of that game was so bugged and all over the place that i couldn't muster up the motivation to finish it the first time i played. they neglected a character to the point of where he could have been removed from the game or made a general hireling (beast).

those issues were at least attempted to be fixed in the definitive edition.

with swen saying that there will be no new content anymore and stating that both bg3 and its characters are now property of wotc/hasbro, it seems unlikely we'll even get an attempt of a fix.

so what this boils down to to me is just another game company not delivering on their promises after overselling their product and more or less abandoning it after a year to move onto the next big thing.

i don't think i can respect that ngl.

#vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: personal #larian critical #bg3 critical

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spider-jaysart · 1 year ago

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Hii I find your apocalypse AU pretty interesting. Was wondering if I could do some fanart? :3

@jonathankentstuff

Omggg!!! Yesss, I would totally be okay with you making some!! I would love to see that!✨

Sorry this took a bit to answer btw, but here are some reference sheets for the boys designs in this au that will probably be helpful for you to use!!

(Click for better quality)

This is also probably a good moment to finally expand more on what the au is about (which is why I added in Mar'i and Jake's there too) since I'm showing them now and also because I've been taking a long while already to make the post about it lol😅

(It's a no capes au btw, meaning everyone's just a normal human here and weren't superheroes in the past)

After tragically losing both Talia and Bruce, Damian is mainly surviving with Dick and Kory, plus the kiddos Mar'i and Jake.

After a very long while of doing just fine, they one day get completely seperated from eachother after getting attacked by a random group of greedy bandits. Damian got stuck with Mar'i and Jake on his side while Dick and Kory were only left with eachother, plus Alfred the cat who they carry around all the time in their backpack.

After seeing that there's no way to really get around and go back to eachother and also noticing that they have to continue running from the large group of bandits who are still after them, Dick quickly hands Damian a map and tells him to travel to the place that's marked on it, telling him that they'll all meet up there and reunite with eachother again. Damian promises to do just that and becomes Mar'i and Jake's new guardian while the three of them are on their own, protecting them both from any kind of danger that's thrown their way no matter what, while staying determined to return to Dick and Kory once again.

After three months later of already moving forward to get to their far destination, Damian, Mar'i, and Jake were resting at a small cabin in the woods for a night until the morning. During that night, Jon later happened to be walking around near their hide out all alone since he was lost. Damian spotted him and wasn't planning on taking any risks by just letting him wander around, in case he was actually someone who was just looking to attack and steal stuff if he found him and his little Nephew and Niece, so he sneakily knocked Jon out and tied him up in the cabin.

Once Jon woke up, Damian and Mar'i both pretended to be cannibals to scare him so that they could get their needed answers out of him to see if he was really just another bad person as expected. Because of this, Jon was terrified and just told them whatever they wanted to know, promising that he wasn't there for any trouble. With this, they saw that he was just a harmless kid just trying to survive like them, so they finally dropped the act and let him know that they were just actually faking it. Jon immediately became even more upsetted by all of this after being told that.

While Damian and Mar'i were distracted talking to eachother about what they were gonna do with him, Jon sneakily got loose from his ties and quickly surprised punched Damian in the gut in anger. Jon quickly stopped though once Mar'i immediately got in the middle of the fight and shoved him away from Damian, yelling "No!" In fear, making him feel a little bad for getting rough in front of the 8 year old girl. Then he soon started to hear Jake crying loudly too and began to feel even more bad for not realizing that there was a baby in the room as well.

That was when Jon got (an angry) explanation from Damian about why they did what they did to him, which was only for their safety. He began to start understanding the reasons behind it after that, but still felt pretty upset about the way it was done.

After some calming down, and for Jake too after being rudely awakened, Jon explains to Damian and Mar'i that he had gotten separated from his group earlier after getting chased down by some herd filled with the undead and is just trying to find his way back to his camp now, but is completely lost.

Damian, remembering he has a map on him and thinking back on how Mar'i and him haven't had much food to eat for days, decides to make a deal with Jon. He tells him that if they help him out, he has to give them some food to take back with them in the end in return. Jon, desperate to get back home and feeling delighted at being offered some help, promises them plenty to eat, so they make a deal. This was the start of their adventure together. (Damian didn't let Jon know about the map though and instead lied to him that he's an expert on traveling in the area, so that he wouldn't reject the deal and also so that he wouldn't think of taking the map from them and just run off with it either)

Along the way, the boys begin to later become good friends (with growing crushes on eachother and later become boyfriends too) and a found family type of thing also starts to grow between Mar'i and Jake with Jon over time too (he becomes like a new Uncle to them).

And after finally getting Jon back home in the end like promised, Jon wants to return the favor by helping Damian out in his own big goal too, just like how he helped him out so much during their little journey together. So the four of them venture out later to look for Dick and Kory like a team.

Phew! Glad that's finally done lol. I really can't wait to see what kind of stuff you decide to draw for the au and am very excited to see them whenever they're ready!!!✨:D (I also have way more stuff about the au, like what happens much later on and also how things started too, but that would just make the post too long lmao)

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ambrosialdesire · 6 months ago

Text

hedonic

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: laios x fem!monster reader word count: 5k warnings + tags: general yandere and/or dark themes, kinda gory descriptions, cannibalistic ideas/thoughts/temptations, probably ooc laios, delusional ideas, monster reader w/ large breasts (i mean, it comes with the kind of monster she is tbh but this is the only physical descriptor of the reader), brief bodily mutilation + removal mention, breast milk consumption, accidental peeping (?), breast fixation, blood kink kinda, biting mention, all characters are 18+ synopsis: he's always been the type with an insatiable appetite when it comes to any monsters, but he promised to never ever eat any demi-humans when it comes down to it. the temptation when it comes to you has became irresistible to try and ignore. a/n: in request of 🌷 anon and my fueled want for laios, i have made my first dungeon meshi/delicious in dungeon yan fic! i decided to do it in laios pov cause i feel it'll make for an interesting perspective. not really nsfw this time around lol since i'm still new and keeping up with the anime and learning about the characters SO IM ONLY CAUGHT UP ANIME-WISE OK LOL AND THE MONSTER I'M USING FOR THE READER ARE CONSCIOUS BEASTS THAT CAN COMMUNICATE AND SHIT LIKE THAT CAUSE IT'S SO VAGUE ON THE WIKI 😭😭 also i'm making shit up as i go okay so anything food related is like entirely made-up 💀 AND YEAH I MADE IT ABOUT BREAST MILK OKAY LMFAOOO tbh i've always wanted to try a dnd-related game but literally have no where to start (ik there's baldur's gate but i am a broke full-time student lol) hope y'all enjoy and hope i can make some more of laios cause he's so 🏃‍♀️💨💨 note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Laios made a promise to never consume a demi-human, no matter the circumstances. It made sense, they were on the cusp of something that was human but not. They could have similar features like the races they respectively belonged to, could bleed red and have had a beating heart, yet in the end, they were still a monster inside and out. Morally or ethically — whichever which belonged to which — according to Chilchuck, it was still wrong to try and consume them.

He understood that completely once it got explained and stuck into his head, but then you came into question.

When you came into Laios's party during the search for his sister, you were almost attacked from how you meekly approached the small group in one of the dungeon’s levels. They were right to be cautious of course, many human-like monsters had previously attacked them when their guard was down, but once they realized you genuinely meant no harm, they let you join in. Marcille was overjoyed that another girl had joined the party, though both Laios and Chilchuck had their valid doubts about you. Senshi didn't really mind, long as you could pull your own weight and never tried to attack them.

Were you trying to play the long game? Did it make them taste better when you waited to strike? Were you eyeing your pick in the group? Senshi and him both have a lot of meat on their person, Chilchuck was definitely the least desirable since he was so small and had less meat on his body; to be honest, Marcille was in a similar boat as him too.

Food-wise, you ate whatever Senshi made with a happy smile, not even being deterred once from having to eat something that was considered to be closely related to you. He wondered if it was something you were used to, something that you had to be doing in order to survive down here. Then, if it came to other parties that came before them and being forced to defend yourself, did you ever had to... consume them?

Laios hoped it never had to occur, but he couldn't blame you if you had no other choice. He could imagine you being trapped for days before your kind could get to you, maybe one or two bodies from an adventuring party were with you from a previous scuffle and the pangs of hunger were getting to you. The thought of the remaining party members finding the torn apart limbs and strewn, chewed on bones surrounding a bloody starving monster made his stomach flip and a shiver go down his spine. Maybe it's because that's how he last remembered Falin right before she teleported them out of the dungeon, her midst of her body trapped in the toothy maw of that Red Dragon.

Because of this now since your alliance with them combined with the many questions in his head about your diet, there was one that he can't quite get rid of, no matter how much he tried.

What did a human taste like to a monster?

It's been a few weeks since they've ventured in the dungeon and Laios still had some doubts with your intentions for joining. A monster is a monster and cannot be trusted no matter what, but you didn't cause trouble or held them back from their search so he let you be... for now at least. He'd be a hypocrite for not letting you stay since he's been keeping Kensuke around, but it's only temporary and it can't really harm him without the other parts of the Living Armor. You're a moving... person? Half of one. Actually more a third-fourth of one? He doesn't quite know but still rather fascinated by your existence.

You were similar to them in conscious thought and speech, as well as appearance-wise. Well, appearance-wise, you definitely weren't human. Small, bilateral curved horns made their home on the sides of your head, floppy brown ears swung around with every step you took, a long bovine tail whipped around the bottom of your legs, and finally, your legs were curved into two thick cow-like stumps with hooves at the end as a replacement of feet. Minotaur, or that's what you said what you were, though you were smaller than those massive farm animal adjacent beasts, about a few inches taller than Marcille.

And not to sound like a perv or anything remotely similar to that, but you didn't really have udders either, unless your more than well-endowed breasts compensated for the lack thereof.

"Ow! Laios!" He snapped out of his thoughts, looking down at his metal shoe and seeing the fluffy end of your tail on the bottom of it.

"Oh, sorry." Slowly, he lifted his foot off of it, the appendage whipping around and twitching. It wrapped around your waist, almost completely hidden as a fuzzy brown and white belt.

"It's bad to get distracted here, are you hungry? Thirsty? I have some bread and milk in the pack if you want to snack on it." As you walked on forwards, you pulled the bag off of your shoulders and began to rummage through it with one hand. You finally found what you were looking for, handing it over to him without hesitation, slinging your bag back where it belonged. He stared at the milk as he chewed on the bread, the texture soft and light with each bite.

Did... did this come from you? You mentioned to them before in the beginning stages of joining that they can drink your milk if they needed to, but the horrified looks of both the elven mage and the Half-foot locksmith prevented you from trying any further. Both him and Senshi was of course curious, Minotaur milk was both difficult to come across and retrieve, but the two told the dwarf that they absolutely refused to eat anything that he cooked if it came from your body.

"Gross, don't tell me that came from you Y/N." Chilchuck grimaced as he walked on by and you shook your head.

"No! Of course not. I know you people humans are a little weird but I wouldn't give something that came from me without telling you. It's just cow milk, er... not from me." Laios felt a little disappointed as he opened the top of the bottle, wondering if it tasted different from normal cow's milk. According to the Dungeon Gourmet Guide, Minotaur milk was thicker and sweeter compared to the average cattle's; then again, this precious book of his wasn't really that accurate unfortunately.

What about your flesh?

He came to a sudden standstill, almost causing Marcille to bump into him.

"If you're gonna stop out of nowhere, at least move to the side Laios!" She grumbled, moving past him as he stood there in confusion. What was he thinking? Why would he even go so far as to think that? He started moving again, carefully watching you click on forwards. His mind began to wander at the thought again, which parts of you would be edible?

Your legs definitely, there's so much muscle built upon you there. He'd seen you strike down stone pillars and enemies in a single blow without even flinching. Maybe even your thin tail, could be tough and stringy though. Your ears would take a while to feast upon, cartilaginous but still a good source of protein. Horns are a no-go, too small and were most likely hollower than meaty. Cow hooves are a delicacy in some parts of the world, so it was possible that yours were consumable too.

Would the "human" parts of you count? You hadn't revealed if you were full or half-monster, maybe even if you were cursed, so it was hard to truly determine what you were. If you were a full monster, that meant that every bit and piece of you was edible meat.

Meat.

"Laios, you’re drooling! I can hear your stomach rumbling too," Your giggling voice rang clearly in his mind, his gaze snapping downwards as he wiped his mouth quickly. "I have more bread if you want."

"No, no. It's better if we stop now and make something more nutritionally beneficial to continue forwards," Senshi stopped with the two of you, turning his head around to find a suitable room for cooking. "Think I still have some of those Harpy eggs and Kelpie flesh, would you two be so kind to try and find some more ingredients on this floor? Any vegetation would do this meal some good."

And here the two of you were, walking around the floor's grounds to spot for anything of use. It was almost completely quiet minus the shifting of his armor and the clicks of your hooves echoing throughout the stone hallway, reducing that awkward silence just a little. Your weapon, a sharpened scythe, swung around on your back as if you were a cow grim reaper; the thought of a cow dressed up in a black robe with a menacing skull mask made him chuckle in his head a little.

"Oh! Up ahead, I see something leafy." The hoof-clicking went faster as you picked up your pace, ducking your head from the fallen wooden structures that were in the way. Compared to the average Minotaur, you moved and reacted quicker, most likely because of your smaller stature and having a little less muscle in your body to heave around. That could make you vulnerable on the other hand, having less muscle everywhere else minus your legs meant diminished strength and being unable to defeat enemies in a more timely manner. Interesting.

"Laios, do you think this enough for all five of us?" You shuffled out of the crevice in a huff with bundles of thick purple, triangular leaves in your arms and he took a pinch from one of the leaves, inspecting it before placing it in his mouth. He winced, his face contorting to a pucker as you laughed at his expression. Dungeon oxalis, edible but strongly tasted similarly to citrus.

"We could work with it, could make up for lemons since they're pretty sour. Here, place it in your bag and we can search for other things." You nodded after wiping your eyes from your boisterous laughter, following his instructions and getting back up from the ground.

You dusted yourself off before picking the bag back up, smiling at him as the two of you began to move deeper into the dungeon. "I hope we find some Night Lucernes but I think since we're already so low underground, it's getting more unlikely they can grow here."

"Oh we can't eat those, they make us sluggish and gives us stomach cramps for weeks."

Blinking at him, you tilted your head in confusion. He never noticed how long your eyelashes were, is that common in your kind? "Really? They're like vitamins for me or was it something about the blood—"

"Why are you not like the other Minotaurs?"

"Huh?" The question was out of the blue, interrupting her talking as the two of you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, eyes locked with one another.

"Why are you not like the other Minotaurs?" Laios repeated, not skipping a beat and leaning down closer to you. "You're not massively built, you don't have a cow's head, you don't have large horns. You don't strictly eat vegetation, is it even good for you to eat monster meat so often? There's so very few things that are Minotaur-like on you, are you really one of their kind?"

Your eyelids fluttered in shock, each question wrapping around your brain before you leaned away from him, scratching the back of your neck. "Well... I-I don't really know why myself."

"...What?"

"Uh yeah. One day, when I was still young, I woke up in this dungeon alone without a single memory in my mind. I don't even remember who named me either, but I vaguely remember being told that I'm a Minotaur. Maybe it's the Mad Mage's fault but I'm sorry Laios, I really can't explain why I'm not more like them."

Did that even satisfy his question on whether you were edible as a Minotaur or not?

"I do know is that I am a monster," You put a hand over where your heart is, clenching it tightly into a fist. "I ain't like you people humans and I'm sure not like those other animal humans you coexist with, so I am nothing but a monster. I may look a little different from my kind but inside and out, I have the Minotaur’s blood in me. And the strictly herbivore thing isn't really true, I can eat meat if I have no other choice to, it's not all that bad though. Doesn't really freak me out and I'm always grateful to have the opportunity to eat a good meal."

"So have you eaten other adventurers before meeting us? I won't judge, I'm genuinely curious and I won't tell the others if you have."

You froze, eyes casting downwards suddenly as your fists gripped onto the coat you wore. "I... I don't really want to talk about it Laios, sorry. I'll answer your other questions but some things are better left off unsaid, okay? Please respect that."

His lips were pulled into a thin line, the nagging voice in his head still ever curious on whether you've eaten human before, but you really did seem uncomfortable talking about the topic. "Sorry."

He then put a hand under his chin, thinking about what you've said previously slowly. Inside and out... Does that mean you are edible? I mean, you basically said it yourself, despite you being more on the human-appearance spectrum of monsters. Then again, they met more human-like monsters like the Harpies and the Dryads, and they've eaten them before! (Well... sorta.) The mermen were edible too (despite Chilchuck stopping him from taking more of the parts), so that means—

"Can I drink your milk then?"

"Wha— H-huh?!" The apples of your cheeks glowed a dark shade of red, but his gaze remained determined, sparkling in excitement even.

"You offered it before, didn't you? Chilchuck and Marcille aren't here so they won't judge us and I've been curious since my book said that it's different from normal cow's milk." You looked around, even peeking behind him, before sighing and bashfully pouting.

"I did! I know I did! But, I have to make it fresh since I threw out the ones I had on hand a week ago and I don't have any on my person right now so..."

"It's okay, I can wait." He bluntly replied, oblivious to your wording. Laios just wanted a little taste, nothing more and nothing less.

You mumbled something under your breath, his ears catching a few words of him being 'too eager' and 'quick to answer'. Was he? He was just answering your question honestly, and he’s been ever so curious about it ever since you’ve offered it before.

"Let me find a room, just wait outside for a bit."

You were flushed, clicking away to find a place to hide out so you could produce what he wanted. Of course he followed shortly after you left, staying outside just like you told him to and it would serve as extra security. If Minotaur milk tasted as good as they say, he might just keep asking you for it when some certain party members aren't nearby. Hell, he might even be able to sneak some to Senshi since he's been curious about it too! It's only right to share a magnificent discovery to the best monster chef. Actually, he might be the only monster chef he knew but he was still the best by default.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited…

Laios started to sit down next to the door due to how long you were taking to produce a small bottle. Was it difficult to get milk out of the body by yourself? He had to ask about that too since he’s only seen male Minotaurs depicted in his book; there was nothing but a small and vague paragraph that explained about the female Minotaurs, but it was mostly about their milk.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the stone wall. You really were a strange individual, someone that he can’t quite understand. Your very being makes his mouth salivate whenever he thinks about you as a next meal, even if it shouldn’t. Was it because all they’ve been eating has been monster-related? His strange fixation on trying them was slowly being satiated with every step down the dungeon, so he chalked it up to just being morbidly curious.

It has to be that reason, it must be, because what kind of sick individual constantly thinks about consuming his friend?

Opening back his eyes, he took another quick glance at the wooden door. Laios was extremely curious on how the whole process worked, if you really had extra udders or if the hidden parts of your body were furry or skin. Plus, you really were taking a long time, one of the three were bound to come over soon and he wouldn't be able to try the milk! Actually... you know what? What if you had gotten attacked in there by a whole group of Mimics?! Or any other monster group, like the ghosts! You were strong but you can’t take all of them at once, and monsters aren't able to revive here. Wait...

Monsters don’t revive here.

He scrambled up on his feet at the realization, quickly knocking on the door, the sound of stumbling and thuds causing him to immediately panic and start pushing it open.

"Are you oka—" Laios froze, his eyes widening.

Your eyes were wide open as well, mouth partially parted open in dumbfounded shock. At least you looked okay and it seemed there wasn't any harmful enemies around, just some old furniture that had fallen over. It's weird though. There you sat on the ground in the midst of the mess, one arm covering your bare chest while the other was holding a partially filled glass. He stood there in puzzlement as your face grew redder by the second, placing the glass down slowly before reaching for your weapon that was right next to you.

Oh.

Oh...

OH!

"LAIOS!!!"

"I'M SO SORRY!!!" He slammed the door back shut as the scythe made its way towards his head, the sharp blade slicing through the old wood, the tip just barely missing his nose. His heart pounded against the metal chest plate like a beating drum, his lungs completely drained of all air. He began to kneel on the ground for some support since his legs started to give out from the revelation. His body was burning up, like he just got lit on fire from the Red Dragon or was a little too close to one of Marcille's explosion spells.

He just saw you naked. Not completely, but still, he just saw your breasts. He was used to and never cared about seeing others nude or topless, whether they be male or female — monster or not — it's just parts but seeing you?

Despite being here for most of your life, the skin from what he saw was quite smooth and rather mostly unblemished. It's like scars weren't able to attach onto the surface, as if they weren't allowed to. And the curvature of your heavy breasts, the noticeable suppleness of both when you moved and inadvertently squeezed them with your arm. They weren't udders at all either like he thought they were, they were undeniably humanlike, no fur included. He imagined biting into them, wondering if it'll be easy to sink his teeth into the squishy fat while he sucked on both the spilling blood and milk, thinking about the mix of sweetness and tangy that'll occur if he did. He'd be especially lucky to leave any mark on your pristine skin during the process, his body tingling at the idea of being the only one — the only human — to permanently leave something behind.

Laios couldn't stop salivating, a hand over his mouth to prevent him from drooling all over himself. He's shaking, why was he shaking? Was it from the fear of these unstoppable thoughts of his? Because of the leaf he ate not a moment ago? No. It's because of these recent developments and the answers he was getting from them, he was becoming... excited.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

The door finally creaked open, a small glass bottle being pushed towards him from the barely ajar entrance. He looked up to where your head would be, your eyes nervously staring down to the side. You started to apologize in a soft mumble as you slowly revealed yourself, now completely dressed.

"Sorry for throwing my weapon at you earlier, but this is all I can give right now. If I had eaten Night Lucernes prior, it would've been better quality. Um... enjoy I guess?"

"Thank you for the drink." Laios smiled and took the bottle in his hands, staring at the liquid. It was warm, which was expected since it just came out of your body, and it wasn't fully white like he thought it would be, the color just had the faintest tinge of yellow that could be missed if he wasn't looking close enough. He took the glass's edge to his lips and finally, he took a small swig of it.

Sweet, precisely as he thought it would be, but not as overtly strong to make him sick or give him an immediate cavity. The book was right to say that it was thick, almost similar to a honey-like consistency but still light enough to not choke at the heavy feeling of it go down his throat. He didn't realize that he quickly drank all of it at once, his tongue running across his lips to catch any remaining liquid left. You said that this wasn't the best quality, but he couldn't imagine it being any better than what he just drank.

"That was..." Laios paused, smacking his lips to try and remember the taste once more. Your face slightly fell, eyebrows worriedly scrunching together. "Amazing!"

"R-really?" The slightly-afraid look melted off in relief, your eyes glowing in happiness. "No one ever said that it tasted amazing before... Actually, no one actually tried it before except you Laios."

He... he was the first one that tried your milk? The fleeting thoughts he had prior ran through his mind again, his cheeks flushing a slight pink. If he really was the first one that drank something of yours... then it's only right that it would be specially reserved for him right? It's really selfish of him to keep this amazing beverage from his dear party, but something like this should be cherished by the one that adores you the most.

He quickly grabbed your hands, holding them up as he squeezed them tightly in excitement. "Can I have more later? I won't tell our party, it'll be our little secret exchange between the two of us."

Laios watched your expression turned from complete shock to shy awe, your tail twitching around and thumping against your legs. You were silent for a bit before looking up at him, a determined glint in your eyes. "W-what's in it for me? I can't just be the only one giving you something.

Shit. That was fair of you to bring up but him as a normal Tall-man, there was very little he could give you in return for your breast milk. "What would you want from me anyway?"

His mind immediately went into the gutter: you wanted to eat something off of him. It could be considered a fair exchange, consumable body part for consumable bodily fluid. Maybe you were getting tired of eating monsters, needing your actual nutrition from people. He started to get nervous, what would he be able to give you from his body? Would a finger satiate you or would you need something larger? Laios can't really give up his arms or legs, he'd need them in order to get through the dungeon and save Falin. Tongue was completely out of the question, he can't imagine not being able to taste food in both normal and monster dishes.

The idea of giving you his dick to consume suddenly popped up in his mind, the thought of trying to cut it off caused him to pale. He didn't use it much compared to his other body parts, only needing it to use to take a leak; he wasn't really the sexually active type either, being able to count the partners he previously had on only one hand. Technically and hesitantly, that would be the only large body part that he can give up for you.

Briefly, he imagined how'd you eat it. You weren't an messy eater when it came to Senshi's food — despite having to learn how to use utensils but still preferring to make use of your hands — so you'd probably be as neat as possible with it. You'd eat it raw, as soon as he managed to slice it off his person, warm crimson slipping down your fingers as you bite down through the layers of skin and muscle.

Or there was the possibility that you wanted to take it off yourself, kneeling right down in-between his legs, hands slowly sliding up his thighs to his hips as you approached his lower half. He'd be forced to watch you take his soft cock into your mouth, probably struggling if he accidentally got hard during the process. The last thing that Laios would feel would be your mouth's warmth wrapping around it before chomping down.

A shiver went down his spine, though it didn't feel as horrid as it was supposed to be.

With your big lashed eyes, you slowly blinked once more as a small smile grew on your lips. "Knowledge. I want to learn about the outside world. I've never left the dungeon before, all the adventurers that came before your party prevented me from ever trying."

Oh... That's actually not a bad exchange request, simple in nature. At least he gets to keep his junk, despite his heart still pounding from what his fucked-up mind just mustered up.

"Okay deal. I'll teach you about my world in exchange for milk." He put out his hand, letting you reach out and shake it. Your eyes relaxed as you smiled warmly up at him, finally letting him go. Laios then went over and patted your head, rubbing the top gently. You stiffened lightly at the gesture, his fingers brushing over the horns. They were smooth with faint ring-like indentations, almost an ivory-creamy color. Truly a fascinating feeling.

"There you guys are! You've been gone for so long that we were starting to get worried." Marcille. You batted his hand off of your head quickly, turned around with a tautly-pulled grin towards the elven girl.

"Must've lost track of time finding what Senshi wanted, sorry about the wait. You guys must be starving by now." The two of you started to chat walking back to the temporary camp, Laios watching and following from behind. You pulled out the oxalis in your bag to show her, a proud expression beaming off your face as you brought up his face when he first tried it. His stomach twisted, his hand resting on the top of his armor-covered abdomen.

There were very few monsters he found cute, most being out-of-this-world frightening to gaze upon, but you truly were one of the cuter ones around. He felt hungry again as your hips swayed from side to side, tail flicking around. He brushed the fingers that he touched your horns with against his lips, reminiscing on the texture. How sensitive were they? You did go rigid when he brushed against them, but it could be just from the shock.

Saliva was building up in his mouth again, and he could only harshly swallow back the feeling.

Deplorable he was with this appetite, the desire to consume you piece by piece. Would you accept that as one of your final fates? Rather than being killed and left behind with little to no chance of being revived, he'd pick up every raw part of you and eat it, savoring each bite in respect for what you've sacrificed to help him find his sister. Laios would try to bring the inedible bits of you with him — bones, teeth, horns, nails, hooves, hair — for the rest of this dungeon's journey and back into his world. Your wish would be granted, despite not being able to fully witness it yourself; you might even thank him for that bit of kindness too.

This thing the two of you had was special, unbeknownst to the others. A friendship that couldn't be understood by the other members of the party, but was completely comprehensible to only you and him. Symbiotic, just almost mutualistic. A love of one's flesh in exchange for the love of another's world.

Love.

Though Laios has expressed his heavy interest and passion in monsters, he never had said he loved them. Most were mindlessly dangerous, no matter how small or large they were, acting on base instinct. Yet, you were different. In fact, he could say that you were the opposite of him. Instead of being grouped together with your fellow monster-kind, you were more interested in being around outsiders. Different sides of the same golden coin.

A realization hit him, his eyes widening. The strange feelings in his body, the perverse, obsessive fantasies he's been having about you... It could only mean that he—

"Jeez Laios, you've been spacing out all day. Are you okay?"

He snapped out of it, staring at the concerned looks of both you and Marcille. Laios only smiled, his golden eyes focused completely on your form. Both your ear and tail tip was twitching, flicking in the air as if a fly was nearby.

"I'm just hungry, that's all."

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buckyshoneybunny · 3 months ago

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The White Wolf (Part 3)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader

W.C- 1082

Warnings- Almost smut, cursing. 18+!!

A/N- Thank you for all the love!! I made an AO3 account, the link is on my pinned post, still working on making a masterlist. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series, I promise the next part will be the long-awaited smut lol. Sorry it took so long. Anyway, hope you enjoy! P.S.- I have some juicy ideas for other stories I'm going to start outlining, I really hope you guys like them.

Taglist- @blackbirdwitch22 @lesleurs @nelachu2423 @shadowzena43 @calwitch @laughterafter

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 4, Part 5 Masterlist Series Masterlist

Bucky couldn’t believe he found his mate. He’d been drinking the fresh lake water when he’d smelled the most delicious scent he’d ever smelled, granted he couldn’t smell much, only what helped him survive. Werewolf senses were weird. He’d heard the sound of a twig snapping, that’s when he saw you, he felt a rush of desire and heat go through him, causing him to growl and scare you.

His response to that? Chase you, which ended with him getting a nasty cut on his leg. When you tripped and hit your head, he had dragged you to his cabin, thrown a blanket over you and went to his bedroom, laying on the big dog bed in the corner.

He’d been so wrapped up in trying to get the stinging pain to go away he didn’t notice you’d woken up, and when you took care of his wound? He was done for. He snuggled close to you the whole time Steve was there, he could see the knowing look in Steve’s eyes.

When you agreed to stay, to say he was over the moon was an understatement. He laid down close to the edge of the woods and had fallen asleep while he waited for you to get back.

(Present)

Bucky wakes up with a pounding head, his white fur coated with dirt. When he looks around, he sees he’s in a cage. He growls. Another wolf growls, Bucky turns his head to see a wild haired wolf, chipped teeth, and crazy eyes. Walker.

The fuck is this? He growls.

This is me claiming the forest for my pack, I see you have a beauty now, might have to check her out in person myself. Bucky could hear the smugness in Walker’s voice.

You lay a hand on her and I’ll rip your fucking head off. He was seething.

No need to be rude, James.

Don’t start that shit with me, Walker, let me go.

Hmm, no.

You’ll regret this.

I don’t think I will. With that Walker walks off, to where, Bucky doesn’t know or care. Walker must’ve forgotten what a feral alpha in rut is capable of, especially one trying to get back to his mate.

With his head pounding he decides to take a nap, Walker must’ve hit him harder than he thought. A couple of hours later he’s roused from his nap by the sound of someone calling his name.

“Bucky!” Steve whisper-yells for the hundredth time. Buck lifts his head and blinks.

Steve? What are you doing here?

“We’ve come to get you out,” Clint says. Bucky shakes his head.

I may be an alpha, and all of us together may cause hell but there’s no way we’d get past them. I have a plan. The first day of my rut and last day in my wolf form is when I’ll be unstoppable and I’ll break out. No one would dare mess with me.

Steve nods. “We’ll work on a plan to get a key, you sure this will work?”

It'll work, I’m sure. How’s Y/N? Is she okay?

“She’s fine, she’s with the girls.” Sam speaks up.

Tell her to go to my cabin and wait for me, I want the whole place to smell like her.

Steve nods and the boy's leave. The next time he sees Walker, he has a sparkle in his eye, he just hopes Walker doesn’t try anything on his babydoll, he’d kill him.

The next couple of days are pure torture for Bucky, the memory of your scent and the early signs that his rut is starting soon drove him crazy. He couldn't wait until he could shift back and bury himself balls deep inside you, yes you may be a complete stranger, but you were his mate and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

Once he’d fucked you, the wolf part of his brain calming down, he’d be able to properly talk about the future with you. But until then he needed to fuck you.

Time seemed to go on forever, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days, days-you get the point-until the moment finally arrived, turns out Steve didn’t need to get the key, Walker's dumbass was moving Bucky to a different spot at the perfect time.

Bucky let his muscles relax, his pupils dilated, he let out the most bone chilling growl Walker had ever heard.

Walker's eyes widen. You little-

See, any alpha is strong and powerful, but a feral alpha in rut? Wanting his mate? Is nearly unstoppable, the only person capable of controlling the feral alpha is their mate. Bucky pounced and his men followed. They effectively took down the wolves, establishing Bucky’s dominance, that he is not to be fucked with like this ever again.

He ran as fast as he could all the way back to his cabin, he could smell Walker had been there, his blood boiled. When he entered the cabin, he was punched in the face with your scent. A shudder went through him. He followed the scent to where it was strongest and found you, in his bed, wearing his shirt.

He growled. When he saw you wake up and see him, he shifted. Once the big, fluffy white wolf, now stood a 6’5, muscular man, nice golden tan, brown locks that framed his face perfectly, the same piercing blue eyes, and a shiny silver metal arm.

You could see the scares that littered his left shoulder where metal met flesh, but it only served to make him even more beautiful. Last, but not least in the bit, standing proudly, at least nine inches, girth making him wider than what you could wrap your hand around, his cock red and throbbing.

Bucky inhales deeply when he sees your pupils dilate, smelling your arousal.

“God damn babydoll,” he mutters in a husky, lust filled voice. “You’re in my bed, wearing my shirt, smelling like a fucking dream?” He groans, cock twitching.

He slowly crawls up your body, taking the shirt with him, leaving you in nothing but a flimsy pair of black panties that are thoroughly soaked through with your arousal.

He brushes his lips against yours, but doesn’t kiss you yet. He drags his nose down the collum of your neck, through the valley of your breasts, pausing to nuzzle your, soft, pudgy stomach, He continues till he reaches your pussy, he takes a deep breath and moans.

“You ready, babydoll?”

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #marvel #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #honeybunnywrites

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imaginespazzi · 8 months ago

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Part 3: Shades of Grey

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

That's the thing about illicit affairs (they lie and they lie and they lie)

(In which a masochistic writer makes things difficult for herself and makes things even messier than they were before)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, a little bit of Hurt/Comfort and Fluff as always

Words: 7.2K (nice and short as always)

TW: Explicit Sexual Content (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Cheating

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job of sticking to my deadlines, who woulda thunk it? Fun fact, I'm at ~ 50 google-doc pages with this fic and despite my constant "trying to write less" rants, I'm actually lowkey proud of that. Anyways, there's a pretty clear hint (I am not a subtle person) as to why what happens at the end happens and if you pick up on it, I promise it'll save you from losing your minds till I write part 4. Also a couple of logistical details about the Cayman Islands are probably off but it's what worked so it's what I did, just pretend lol. Per usual, I did edit, there's probably still typos any way, feel free to point them out. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading and have a wonderful rest of your week lovelies!

August 2021

The fight was inevitable but neither of them can tell you what really lit the flame. One second they had been fine (well as fine as two girls who knew tonight was their last night in a while could be), the next they were hurling bullets at each other. There’s a subconscious part of Azzi’s brain that tells her to grab Paige and duck for cover, to preserve whatever little bit of friendship they can. But her whole body vibrates with anger as Paige’s words crash around her like a tsunami, drowning out the good angel on her shoulder that’s pleading with her to stop.

“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,” Paige sneers, and that mean smirk on her face just doesn’t quite fit right, “I don’t know what I was thinking with that honestly. You’re not built like that.”

Azzi flinches, eyes blazing, “some of us want to be more than just another good UConn player.”

“That’s what all the people not good enough to play for UConn say,” Paige retorts bitterly and Azzi doesn’t think she knows this girl standing in front of her, one whose words are aimed to make her cry instead of laugh.

“Not good enough and yet you still wanted me on your team.”

“Nah you know what, my bad, I didn’t realise you’d fucking stab me in the back like that, ” Paige hisses, “you’re a fake as fuck friend and you’d probably make a shit teammate.”

Azzi’s never had a heart attack. She doesn’t even fully think she knows what a heart attack really is. But she’s certain this pain in her chest can’t possibly be anything less than one. It starts at her heart and then spreads to her lungs and then floods through her body, until she can’t move, she can’t breathe.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispers.

Paige hesitates, as if suddenly aware of the fragility of the moment, her voice considerably softer when she speaks but she doesn’t take it back, “ real friends choose each other.”

“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, it’s the worst thing she could do in the moment and Paige’s eyes flash with anger, “you’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“Watch your fucking mouth-”

“Don’t you even dare. You say all that shit to me and now you can’t hear some of it back? Contrary to what you might think Paige, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you. My decision for where to spend the next four fucking years, does not revolve around you,” Azzi’s voice rises with each word.

Fighting is cathartic in a way. They’ve spent almost a year delicately tip-toeing around the subject, growing further and further apart and yet still holding on for dear life. And Azzi doesn’t want to let go, but everything feels burning hot, and her hands are starting to blister.

“Oh you’ve made that very clear,” Paige bites back, “you’ve made it very clear just how little I mean to you.”

“Because I chose a different school? That’s all it took Paige, seriously? That’s all it took for you to call our friendship fake?”

“No what it took Azzi was you being a fucking liar.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

Paige scoffs, her voice taking on a pitchy mocking tone, “ ‘I’d love to play with you Paige’, ‘being on the same team would be nice P’, all of that fucking bullshit when you didn’t mean any of it.”

“Oh we’re playing that game,” Azzi seethes, “how about ‘Az I’d support you no matter what’ huh? Where did all of that go?”

“Maybe if you didn’t make stupid decisions then.”

“No, actually choosing not to play with you might have been my smartest decision yet,” as soon as the words are out, there’s a part of Azzi that wishes she could wrench them back in.

“Right,” Paige’s voice is eerily quiet now, “well I hope that works out well for you then. Go to UCLA Azzi, have a great fucking life and stay the fuck away from mine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Azzi takes a cautious step towards the blonde and almost immediately, Paige steps backwards, her expression suddenly blank. The change to indifference is somehow worse than the previous malice, “Paige-”

“Fuck this, I’m going home,” Paige says resolutely, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as she reaches for her phone and wallet.

“We need to talk this out, we need to try and fix this,” Azzi all but pleads, trying to position herself in front of the persistent older girl who’s trying to make her way to the door.

“I don’t know if I want to fucking fix this,” Paige yells, shaking away Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” her voice breaks as she says the next words, “I don’t even think I wanna be friends.”

When Azzi’s 14, Paige Bueckers dribbles through a USA basketball camp court straight into her life and teaches her all about how one person can come into your life and carve out a permanent shelf. When Azzi’s 16, Paige’s casual smiles and not-so-insignificant touches teach her all about the complicated space in-between just friends and something more. When Azzi’s 18, Paige says those words, ones that sound a lot like giving up, and teaches Azzi that sometimes in life, even the people you thought would never make you feel this way, are the ones who'll break you the most. And that’s the day Azzi makes a promise to herself that she’ll never give someone that part of herself again, unaware that when she’s 20, Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken.

***

July 2023

Azzi doesn’t know what god she pissed off to get herself into this position, stuck in a booth with Zoe on one side and Paige on the other. Her girlfriend’s left hand is placed firmly on her thigh and Azzi has to fight the vehement urge to shake it away because Zoe’s normally soft, sweet touch feels itchy and heavy. But the way Paige’s biceps are pressed against hers might be even worse. Every time the blonde moves a little, the sliding of her smooth skin against Azzi’s arms, sends a jolt of electricity through her veins. And Azzi doesn’t know when she became that girl, the girl who already has someone to hold her but is desperately craving somebody else’s touch.

When people’s girlfriends surprise them with an unexpected visit, the appropriate reaction is to be overwhelmed with happiness. Except since she’d met her, Azzi’s summers have always belonged to Paige. With them having lived in separate states most of their lives, it was the one time they got to be with each other for an extended period of time. It was an unspoken rule really, one that they had subconsciously still followed the year before when Azzi had shown up at Paige’s door, even if they’d only gotten the last couple of weeks of the season; summer was theirs. So, when Zoe had shown up that afternoon with a bright smile and shining eyes, all Azzi had been able to register was a sense of loss as Paige pulled her hand out of Azzi’s.

Introductions had been somewhat awkward. Her parents knew of Zoe, but hadn’t met her yet. They were nice of course, her dad pulling the shorter girl into one of his bear hugs and her mom giving her a warm smile. Jon and José were more awkward, nodding their greetings but making no move to actually welcome her. Paige had managed to muster up a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shake the other girl’s outstretched hand. And then there was Drew, whose normally goofy smile seemed to have disappeared.

“Who are you?” the young boy had asked quizzically, his eyebrows crinkling together.

“Oh umm, I’m uh- Azzi’s girlfriend,” Zoe had replied, the last word causing Paige to involuntarily flinch.

Drew had looked over to Azzi then, his eyes wide and accusing, “you can’t be Azzi’s girlfriend.”

“Is that so?” Zoe hummed, clearly not taking him seriously.

“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.”

The silence after had been deafening, as Azzi tried to stop herself from choking on air. Eventually Paige had regained her senses first, apologising for her younger brother’s lack of filter (“he says stupid things all the time”) and then Azzi’s dad had swooped in before things could possibly get any more awkward, proposing that they all go out to dinner. And that’s how Azzi has ended up here, shuffled in a booth, opposite her parents, with Paige on one side and Zoe on the other. Life really and truly isn’t on her side these days.

“So girls, what are y’all pizza orders?” Tim asks jovially. Azzi’s brothers and Drew, desperate to go enjoy the sun (and avoid Zoe), had already told them their orders before zooming to the park right outside the restaurant.

“Oh uh- Az you wanna share a Margherita pizza?”

“Azzi and I’ll just have our usual.”

It’s as if the world wants Azzi to suffer as both Zoe and Paige immediately look at her expectantly. The girl in question keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, unsure how to best handle this predicament by doing anything other than maybe just running out of the restaurant.

“What’s your usual?” Zoe asks, her voice all curiosity and no ill-intent.

“Grilled chicken and bacon with spinach and onions.”

“But Azzi doesn’t like onions, she says they make-”

“They make her breath smell I know,” there’s a hard edge to Paige’s voice, “but she-”

“She can’t pick them off. She can’t pick anything off of her pizza because it takes-”

“It takes the cheese off, I know that too. That’s not what I was going to say. She doesn’t eat them because she thinks they make her breath smell but she does like them. It’s just-,” Paige’s eyes flare with mischief, “she only eats them around people who are close to her. Guess you’re not quite there yet.”

Since Azzi had mustered up the courage to finally tell Paige about Zoe, right before summer break started, Paige had been nothing but respectful, supportive even. Until tonight apparently and Azzi doesn’t even know to react to the fact that her best friend has started a pissing contest over fucking onions.

“Right,” Zoe bites her lips, her ever-present smile slipping slightly as she slowly pries the menu out of Azzi’s hands and looks at her with hopefully eyes, “but we’ll get the Margherita tonight babe?”

“I-” and Azzi really should say yes, side with Zoe like the good girlfriend she is, except, well, all she can think about is that Paige hasn’t smiled since the California girl had arrived in D.C., “I think um- I’ll stick to my usual Zo, I’m sorry.”

She’s a terrible girlfriend, because immediately Zoe’s smile fades, and Azzi barely notices it, too busy watching Paige’s grin light up her face. Her baby blue eyes sparkle as if she’s won some important battle and it’s not even dark yet, but Azzi swears it feels like the stars have come out.

“Okay,” Tim says slowly, looking between the three younger girls, as he waives over the waitress, “if that’s decided then.”

The issue with Paige being pretty, is that nobody’s really immune to it, including the cheerful waitress that practically skips over to serve them. Her eyes glaze over a little bit as they roam across the blonde’s face and then to her arms before drifting down to her torso. Paige’s tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination, exposing both her muscled biceps and toned torso and Azzi doesn’t need an x-ray to know the widely appropriate thoughts going through the waitress’s head. The feral roar of mine takes birth in her stomach and the quieting whisper of she’s not does little to subdue it.

“I’m Libby,” the waitress says, tongue darting across her lips, eyes solely focused on Paige, “and I’ll be your server today.”

Libby collects orders dutifully, polite and agreeable, but doesn’t once fully look away from the blonde, practically drooling once she finally gets to her, “and what can I get for you to drink babe?”

Azzi’s not sure whether it’s the sultry tone or the nickname that gets Paige’s attention, but all of a sudden her best friend is staring up at the waitress with her own flirty smile. She likes to think she’s not a particularly violent person, but Azzi thinks she might end up in jail for homicide tonight.

“Well babe,” Paige winks, Azzi wants to die, “what would you recommend?”

Libby smirks, clearly feeling triumphant as she leans on the table, one hand reaching out to brush Paige’s forearm, “sex on the beach.”

Several things happen at once. Tim chokes on a breadstick. Katie immediately thumps him on the back. Zoe lets out a laugh. Azzi’s nails break the skin of her palm, drawing blood as she fists both of hands. And then-

“She has a girlfriend,” it’s a blatantly untrue but all Azzi can think about is stopping this random girl from eye-fucking her Paige. It does the trick, Libby’s eyes go comically wide, as she steps back from the table, from Paige.

“She does?” Tim asks. Next to him, Katie, shoots her daughter a knowing look that veers on the edge of disappointment.

Azzi stutters under the heat of Paige’s glare, the blonde clearly unamused by her lie, “I uh- I mean um- it’s not official but um yeah,” she doesn’t even sound convincing to herself, “I’m uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She practically shoves Paige out of the booth so she can climb out of it herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart hammers in her chest and she tries to block out the sound of Paige’s being questioned by her dad, as she rushes into the restroom.

There’s no amount of water she could splash on her face to make this heat go away, but she tries anyway, unsure of when the tap water starts to blend in with the tears streaming down her face. The unsettling anger of how dare she flirt with another girl beating in her heart is replaced by the guilt of i’m not allowed to feel this way thrashing around her rib cage. It hurts all the same, as Azzi clutches her chest, trying to even out her breathing.

She doesn’t hear the door open or close until, “What the fuck was that?”

“Get out,” Azzi whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the mirror, “just give me a second okay?”

“Oh no, no, no, you owe me a huge fucking explanation right now,” Paige hisses, “what the fuck was that bullshit? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“It was a joke-” before Azzi can even finish the sentence, there’s a hand on her biceps, forcing her to turn around. When she opens her eyes, Paige’s face is far too close to her own and when she tries to move back, she’s trapped with the cool edge of the sink. It’s too much, the proximity, the tension, the lingering touch of Paige’s fingers curled around her arm.

“Stop lying,” Paige bites out.

“It just slipped out babe,” and fuck, Azzi absolutely hadn’t meant to add that last part, hadn’t meant to make it so obvious what exactly had triggered her little outburst. Realisation flashes across Paige’s face, as she takes a step back, letting go of Azzi, and the distance should be freeing, but instead it just makes her feel lost.

“That’s what this is about?” the blonde asks in disbelief.

“Yes- no- I don’t know, okay,” Azzi’s voice is high-pitched, “I’m sorry okay. I’ll tell the waitress it was a joke,” she lets out a humourless laugh, “I didn’t mean to fucking cockblock you.”

“Cockblock me? Dude I wasn’t trying to fuck the waitress what the fuck?”

“Could’ve fooled me babe,” Azzi sneers.

Something menacing flashes in Paige’s eyes, “stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t like me calling you babe. You didn’t seem to have a problem when it was her.”

“Oh my fucking god Azzi,” Paige throws her hands up, “you don’t get to do this. Not when your girlfriend is sitting right there.”

The reminder of Zoe is like being splashed with cold water and Azzi feels everything inside of her freeze. She grips the edge of the sink, trying to find some semblance of balance as Paige continues to glare at her.

“For the past few hours, I have had to hear your girlfriend call you every fucking nickname in the book. I have had to watch her kiss you and move your hair back and grip your fucking knee under the table,” with every sentence, Paige inches closer and closer, until she’s accentuating every word by pushing her index finger into Azzi’s chest, “and you can’t even fucking deal with me calling some other girl babe?”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers when Paige’s voice breaks on the last word. Their faces are so close, she can feel the other girl’s uneven breathing all over her skin. And it takes everything in her to not cave in and reach a hand out to caress away the tear that's threatening to fall from the blonde’s tearline.

“It’s been hell Azzi,” Paige spits out, “so you don’t get to be upset if I want to fuck someone-”

Something snaps and before Paige can complete the offending sentence, before she can imprint an image that will forever haunt Azzi’s mind, Azzi silences all the warning bells of why she really shouldn’t, and pulls her best friend into a searing kiss. Immediately, Paige’s hands come to rest against Azzi’s hips, pressing her firmly against the edge of the sink. It’s as if they’re trying to meld their bodies together, both of them gripping each other as close as possible. Outside, it’s a summer evening of clear blue skies, but here in this random restaurant restroom, lightning strikes.

Paige bites at Azzi’s bottom lip and then traces her tongue over the bruise she’s created, smirking when it elicits a gasp from the younger girl. Lips still firmly moving against Azzi’s, her hands work expertly on the buttons of Azzi’s tight shorts. The sensation of everything Paige is all-consuming and Azzi feels like she’s drunk on the taste of her best friend’s skin, as she moves away from Paige’s lips, to pepper kisses on her neck, before moving down to suck a mark into her collarbone. Mine, mine, mine.

“Fuck Az,” Paige moans when Azzi’s teeth grate against her skin and it’s the brunette’s turn to smirk. But her cockiness is short-lived when Paige’s fingers finally find their way into her now unbuttoned shorts. They press down on her clit through her underwear, making her whine.

A cry of “Paige,” escapes her lips when the blonde slides Azzi’s panties to the side, her middle and index finger beginning to rub circles around the younger girl’s clit in a tantalisingly slow rhythm.

“So wet, so fucking wet for me,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with want, as she brings her free hand to cup Azzi’s jaw, forcing her best friend to look her in the eyes. It scares Azzi, the sheer amount of emotion she can see swirling in the blonde’s eyes. There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them.

“Please,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, as the older girl’s fingers slip from her clit to tease against her soaking entrance, dipping into her folds but not giving her what she wants.

“If you want something baby,” Paige traces Azzi’s lips with her thumb, “you have to ask for it.”

Azzi's hands moved away from where they had been firmly gripping Paige’s waist, to wrap around her neck. She bites softly against Paige’s left earlobe, eliciting a low groan, before bringing her lips as close to the blonde’s ears as she can, “I want you to fuck me.”

It’s all it takes, Paige finally gives Azzi what her body’s so desperately craving, for far longer than she’s willing to admit, pumping two fingers into her pussy, while her thumb stimulates her clit. And fuck, Paige knows exactly what she’s doing, fingers curling in the exact right spots and Azzi feels like she’s floating or flying or falling, maybe all of the above.

“Please, please, please,” Azzi babbles incoherently, burying her face in the crevice of Paige’s neck, tears beginning to blur her vision. Because, it’s too much, the ecstasy, the fact that it’s Paige behind the ecstasy, the fact that this is better than her wildest fantasies.

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige praises, fingers starting to move faster, “taking my fingers so fucking well Az, think you can handle one more?”

Azzi whines in response. Paige pushes in a third finger, both of them letting out identical sighs of pleasure. She’s slow for a second, giving Azzi time to adjust but-

“Fuck, Paige, faster, please,” the younger girls moans, grinding fervently, desperately, against Paige’s fingers, trying to create more fiction.

“Anything for you Az,” Paige whispers, and even in the high of the moment, Azzi knows those words are about more than sex, “whatever you want.”

As Paige’s fingers begin to move at a rapid pace, curling around her g-spot, over and over and over, Azzi can feel that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Her fingers claw at Paige’s neck in warning, too worked up for words. Paige nudge’s Azzi’s face out of her neck, free hand cupping the younger girl's jaw.

“Come apart for me baby,” she whispers before pressing their lips together.

Azzi’s hips stutter as her orgasm rolls all over her, pussy clenching around Paige’s fingers, as she moans into the older girl's mouth. Spent, her body goes limp, her best friend’s firm grip pressing her against the edge of the sink, the only thing anchoring her and keeping her uprights. Paige slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi’s pants and the loss of contact feels wrong. It’s instinct really, as Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand and brings it up to her mouth, sucking each of the older girl’s fingers clean one by one, and it’s worth it for the way Paige looks wrecked.

“Az-” she begins softly, eyes filled with questions but before Azzi can even think about any answers-

“Azzi,” reality crashes and burns around the two girls as Zoe’s voice calls out for her girlfriend. The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Panic takes the place of pleasure as Paige and Azzi jump apart from each other and the realisation of their surroundings hits both of them at the same time. Sweat sheens against Paige’s collarbone and Azzi’s lips are bruised, her eyes still glazy. Their identical dishevelled demeanour gives away far too much. Just as the restroom door creaks open a little, Azzi dives into one of the stalls.

“Oh, hey Paige,” guilt pools in Azzi’s stomach at the sound of Zoe’s innocent voice, as she presses her ear against the stall door, “is Azzi in here? She’s been gone for like 20 minutes.”

“She- she was,” Paige stutters, and Azzi hates herself even more for putting her best friend in this position, “I-uh I think she um- she wanted some fresh air.”

“Ah okay, I’ll go try and find her,” Zoe pauses, “are you okay? You look a little flustered.”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Paige assures in a high-pitched voice, “just uh miss my girlfriend you know.”

Azzi flinches at the lie. She’d made such a fucking mess today. The lying, the cheating, all of it was so out of character and all of a sudden, she feels dirty. Tears brim in her eyes as she begins to process the gravity of what she’d done. And perhaps the worst part of it, is that she can’t find it in herself to fully regret it. If she could turn back time, she doesn’t know if she’d do anything different. Because when it comes to Paige, Azzi’s fine living in shades of grey.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Zoe says slowly.

There’s a pause and Azzi knows the words neither did I are floating in Paige's mind before she answers, “yeah, it’s uh- it’s new.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” the sincerity in Zoe’s words hit like stones, rupturing whatever built up image of i am a good person Azzi had ever had of herself

“Thank you,” Paige replies quietly.

“It just-,” Zoe draws in a breath, “Azzi she- she worries about you a lot you know. Even before- you know- when you guys weren’t- you know? Like I think she thinks about you a lot,” there’s an unmistakable wistfulness in Zoe’s voice, “ like- if you’re doing okay and all that. And I don’t- I don’t even know you but I know she wants you to be happy- and- and I want whatever Azzi wants- so- so if you’re happy- that’s good.”

“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Paige sounds as guilty as Azzi feels.

There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?”

Zoe’s voice is laced in insecurity and hopefulness and Azzi wishes she’d never brought this girl into her mess in the first place. The sun-kissed Californian had been a classmate who had accidentally stumbled upon Azzi mid-breakdown on a random Thursday. One second she was hesitant, the next she was spilling her woes to a stranger, tired of holding it in. And from then on Zoe had been on a mission to just be there. She’d never hidden her intention, always clear that she wanted more than friendship and Azzi, despite knowing that her heart didn’t really have space for anyone else, had let her loneliness be her guide and given in to the urge to just let someone hold her. But the truth is that while every other second spent with Zoe was filled with mentions of Paige’s name, every moment spent with Paige was never about anything else other than her.

“She- she does, she seems happy,” Paige can’t bring herself to say the with you. The blonde sounds defeated, as if the admission that Azzi could possibly be happy with someone else has taken everything out of her.

“Good, it means a lot,” Zoe’s voice is lighter now, like there’s a smile hidden in it, “especially from you. Thank you. I’ll uh- I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Azzi waits for the sound of footsteps shuffling and then the sound of the door clicking behind Zoe, before prying herself out of the stall. Paige is hunched over the sink, face buried in her hands. And the words my fault, my fault, my fault imprint themselves all over Azzi’s heart.

“Your girlfriend’s looking for you,” Paige says, not bothering to look up.

“Paige I-”

“Just go Azzi, we’ll just” Paige scoffs, “we’ll just play pretend again,” the walls are up again and Paige is unreachable in her castle built from the ashes of the purity in their friendship that they’d just sacrified for a fucking quickie in a barely-lit restroom. And maybe Azzi should say something, maybe she should stay and see if she can fight her way into Paige’s castle. But Azzi’s no knight in shining armour, not Paige’s, not Zoe’s, not anybody else’s because knights don’t cheat and they don’t lie and they don’t break people’s hearts. So she listens to what her best friend says, she walks out, and she pretends she doesn’t hear the sob that’s let out behind her.

***

November 2023

UCLA is up on UConn, it should be a pretty momentous occasion and it is. Azzi’s had one of the best games of her career to get her team mere seconds away from getting their first win over the powerhouse. For UConn, so has Paige, except there’s nothing but frustration gleaming in the blonde’s face. The game had been bad for UConn, the cracks created by injuries on full display. And the competitor in Azzi was more than happy to take advantage of that. But the part of her that was Paige’s best friend was stuck on how tired Paige looked. Someone fucking help her, Azzi had thought throughout the game, she literally just came back from injury.

The outcome of the game is clear and Azzi’s already on the bench getting rest, cheering for her own team of course, but keeping a subtle eye on what’s happening with Paige. Azzi’s eyes follow Paige as she’s finally subbed out. The older girl walks to the end of her own bench, hands coming to rest on her thighs as she hangs her head, face scrunched up in irritation. Paige does that thing where it's like she’s trying to bite of all the skin on her lips and Azzi has the familiar urge to march over and make her stop, preferably by kissing her, not that that’s a thought she’s allowed to have.

It’s ironic really, the 2,943 miles that had once been the reason they’d fallen apart, is the only thing holding them together. Being out of each other’s reach makes it easier to ignore what had happened over the summer, makes it easier to not give into that same vice all over again. And it makes sense, Azzi thinks, because since she’s met her, whenever Paige had just been a blurry goofy face on her screen, they’d been good at the just friends thing. The moment they could touch though, that’s when lines got blurry. As much as Azzi’s not sure how she survived a year without Paige, she’s even less sure about how she’d survived that one year where they’d practically lived in each other’s skins.

Things in the handshake line are somewhat icy with both teams being overprotective of their star players. Muhl’s eyes are full of disdain once she reaches Azzi and Arnold barely shakes her hand, only doing as much as she has to, to keep up appearance. Azzi’s teammates aren’t any better, Angelica smiles at everyone until she reaches Paige, and Kiki rolls her eyes at the point guard. But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little.

“You did good,” Azzi whispers into the blonde’s hair, tightening her hold on the other girl as she soothingly strokes her back.

Paige scoffs, burying her face further into Azzi’s neck, “you did good, I did what I had to.”

They break apart reluctantly, the shutter of cameras ruining the intimacy of the moment. Their hands hold on a touch longer but the minute they finally slip away from each other, the familiar feeling of i’m tired of missing you that seems to always be lingering within Azzi, prickles against her heart.

***

UConn and UCLA don’t have a rivalry but if you were sat at the hotel restaurant in the Cayman Islands on a lovely November evening, you wouldn’t know that. There’s multiple women’s basketball teams present at the restaurant and everyone’s mingling with each other but the Bruins and Huskies seem determined to avoid each other at all costs. At one point, Angelica and Muhl, of course it would be them, accidentally bump into each other and Azzi holds her breath at the icy glare shared between them. She’s not sure how she and Paige ended up with something akin to the women’s basketball version of the Montagues and the Capulets, but it seems fitting with the way her life’s been going, that it would eventually start to take the shape of a tragedy.

It’s around 10pm when Azzi notices Paige moving in the direction of the door, towards the beach. Azzi hesitates for a moment, knowing her need to go after the blonde isn't just one born out of a best friend’s concern, but it’s Paige. It doesn’t matter if there’s inevitable destruction on the other side, it’s Paige and when it’s Paige, Azzi will follow.

Paige’s silhouette on the beach, glowing underneath the moonlight, with waves crashing onto the shore beyond her, is straight out of a dream. Azzi’s not an artist by any means, but she thinks if she were, this moment would be her muse. The sea wind causes Paige’s hair to flutter with it. Her eyes are closed in concentration, knees pressed against her heaving chest as she takes in deep breaths of salty air. Azzi traipses across the sand, sandals in hand, before falling to the ground next to the other girl. A whisper of a smile is the only acknowledgement Paige offers her as they let a comfortable silence glide over them.

“It would be nice to live here,” Paige says after a moment, “it’s peaceful.”

“Except when it storms,” Azzi surmises.

“It’s not peaceful anywhere when it storms,” Paige counters matter-of-factly, “can you just let me have my moment?

“Right, right, continue.”

“Well now I don’t want to.”

Azzi laughs. Paige grins. It’s so easy. It’s so fucking scary.

“Why’d you leave the restaurant?” Azzi asks cautiously.

“Fresh air.”

“And?”

Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “it’s gonna be a long season.”

“It always feels like that at the beginning.”

“I know- it’s just- after last year- I just thought it would be different. We’d show the world this time. Be like the other UConn teams of the past. Maybe I just wanted something easier.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder, “you’ve never wanted easy in your goddamn life Paige. If it’s not a challenge, then it’s not for you. Because you’re God’s strongest soldier, and He’ll give you his hardest battles, right?”

“Right, but sometimes I just don’t feel so strong.”

“Remember what I said in LA? It’s okay to feel that way P. It’s okay to feel however you feel. Let yourself breathe sometimes, it’s good for you. Fall down, let things go, just- remember to get back up and hold on again. It’ll get better, I promise.”

“You always say the right things,” Paige says quietly, and then even quieter, she whispers under her breath, “you make it so hard Az.”

Azzi’s not fully sure what that means. She’s not sure she wants to. Instead she tangles her and Paige’s fingers together, ignoring the way it feels a little too right, and lets them fall back into a peaceful quiet.

“So,” Paige begins again, after a couple of minutes, “Zoe didn’t make the trip here?”

I’m holding your hand and you’re thinking about my girlfriend. Maybe you’re a better person than me.

“She can’t just leave all her schoolwork and follow me wherever,” Azzi says, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. It’s true except the part where Zoe had asked if she wanted her there and Azzi hadn’t been able to give her the enthusiastic yes she wanted, starting an unspoken argument that quashed any chance of a nice romantic island getaway for the two of them.

“She did for the Elite 8 last-” Paige bites her tongue.

“How did you-,” Azzi’s brain feels dizzy with confusion, “how could you know that? You left- after the Sweet 16, you- how did you know Zoe was there?”

“I didn’t leave,” Paige keeps her eyes adamantly on the ocean, “the team wanted to stay longer,” that’s a lie, Azzi knows her too well, “and so I stayed and you know me, I love watching hoops so I uh- I watched your game.”

“You were there,” Azzi whispers more to herself than Paige at this point. She’d been so sure she was just hallucinating, her heart trying to trick itself into seeing what it wanted to see, “why didn’t you tell me you were there? Why didn’t you come see me after the game?”

“I did- fuck Azzi- I did-”

“Where? I would’ve seen- I didn’t see-”

“I saw you,” Paige cuts through Azzi’s frantic questioning, her voice heavy with unspoken emotions as she continues to refuse to look at the younger girl, “you and Zoe. Together.”

“Paige-”

“After the game, you were looking for someone in the stands and I- I thought maybe you were looking for your parents but then I saw you- with her- outside the locker room and- it hit me that- that you were looking for her,” Paige spits the last word out as it feels like lava on her tongue.

In the grand scheme of things, maybe Azzi should let Paige keep this misconception, maybe it would make things simpler if she let Paige believe in the idea that there was someone else Azzi sought out when she was struggling. But-

“I thought I saw you,” Azzi breathes out, “I should have been looking for Zoe but-” she has to draw in a breath when Paige whips around, piercing blue eyes that feel like they can see straight into Azzi’s soul, “Paige, I was looking for you-”

The last bit of sound is stolen away from Azzi as Paige’s lips crash onto hers. And it’s so different from summer and that wretched bathroom. Something softer, more gentle, but still desperate and passionate. Time slows down, as Azzi pulls Paige into her lap, hands caressing her waist, mouths still moving against each other with perfect rhythm. They only pull away when air becomes a necessity, resting their forehead against each other, as they breathe in sync.

“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi whispers, moving a strand of hair out the blonde’s face.

The way Paige blushes is everything, “stop.”

“You are,” Azzi insists, pressing a kiss against the corner against the edge of her lips, “you’re perfect P.”

If she goes blind tomorrow, in the next second even, Azzi thinks that would be okay. As long as this, Paige with her soft Azzi smile, looking at her with that sparkle in her eyes, face illuminated by the shine of the stars, is the last thing Azzi sees.

Slowly Paige climbs off of her, stretching out a hand to pull Azzi up.

“You don’t have a roommate right?,” she asks with a soft smirk that transforms into a shy grin when Azzi nods. And this isn’t a version of Paige that Azzi's ever met before, so different from her cocky loud best friend, but she’d like to learn her all the same.

The hotel staff probably think they’re a little drunk as they giggle their way to Azzi’s hotel room. Azzi barely manages to get the door open, before Paige’s lips are all over her again, drifting everywhere from her lips to her neck to her collarbone.

“Off, off, off,” Paige urges, hands pulling away Azzi’s shirt and she can’t help but giggle at the older girl’s impatience. She keeps her eyes firmly on Paige as she unhooks her bra, smirking as her best friend’s eyes glaze over. Paige moves to touch her, and Azzi moves back immediately.

“Nuh huh. I show you mine, you show me yours.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Paige groans but does as she’s told, discarding her shirt and Azzi’s smirk widens. She moves towards Paige, slowly tracing her tongue down the older girl’s neck.

“Am I?” Azzi whispers, as she backs her best friend onto the bed. Paige’s eyes follow her every movement as Azzi slowly slides down Paige’s pants, and then her underwear. She runs a finger down Paige’s soaked folds, causing the other girl’s body to shiver, “so wet already, for someone so annoying?”

“Fuck y-” Paige cuts herself off with a groan, when Azzi’s fingers find her sensitive clit.

Settling herself in between the older girl's legs, Azzi grazes her teeth against Paige’s left thigh, satisfied when it makes the other girl’s breath hitch, “if I’m so annoying maybe I should go?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige warns breathlessly, head propped up against Azzi’s pillows.

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi smirks, as she peppers kisses up Paige’s thighs, her right thumb lazily flickering against Paige’s clit.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Paige lets out a frustrated whine, “just fuck me already.”

Azzi bites down hard against Paige’s thigh, wanting to leave a mark in the one place no one would ever see it, before looking up at Paige, “whatever you want.”

Paige’s entire body writhes as Azzi fucks her tongue into Paige’s pussy, building pace with every thrust. One hand fists around the sheets, as the other moves to grab at Azzi’s head, trying to guide her in deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck shit Azzi please,” Paige curses, eyes rolling into her skull, “just like that fuck.”

She’s so close, words becoming incoherent noises, thighs beginning to shake, when Azzi pulls her tongue off.

“What the fuck-” Paige almost yells but it turns into a groan when Azzi replaces her tongue with two fingers instead, “shit- FUCK.”

Azzi attaches her now-free lips to Paige’s clit and she can tell it’s too much. Paige’s back arches off the bed as her eyes go hazy. And then Azzi’s above her, fingers still rapidly pumping into Paige, as she places a delicate kiss against her lips.

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear as the blonde closes her eyes, letting her orgasm wash all over her, “I’ve got you.”

Paige is still for a second, as Azzi slips her fingers out, continuing to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against her best friend’s neck. She squeals when she feels herself being flipped over, back hitting the mattress.

“What was it you said?” Paige asks cheekily, as starts to unbutton Azzi’s jeans, “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her throat. Trust them to be dorks even in a moment like this. And then Paige attaches her lips to Azzi’s clit and the giggles turn into loud desperate moans. When she slips her fingers in, it’s clear Paige remembers exactly how to push Azzi over the edge.

“So fucking perfect,” Paige whispers from between her legs, eyes looking up at a blissed-out Azzi with awe, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“That’s you,” Azzi manages to get out in between bated breaths, before her own orgasm hits her, and Paige’s name waterfalls out of her lips like a prayer.

There’s no more words after that, only shared looks and soft grins as they make their way into the en-suite bathroom, lazily washing each other between stolen kisses. They fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with matching content smiles.

***

Azzi wakes up alone the next morning. There’s no scribbled note, or even a text. In fact there’s really no proof that Paige was ever there to begin with, except for the ghost of Paige’s touch written all over Azzi’s skin. For a second, Azzi sits in bed and stares out her window. There's a thunderstorm brewing outside (it's not peaceful anywhere when it storms). She watches the raindrops slide down one by one and decides that, that’s the only water that’ll fall today because she won’t shed a single tear and she won’t cry and she most definitely won’t sob.

She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean.

And then she gets up and goes on with her day.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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avocado-writing · 9 months ago

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Hello! Could I request BG3 origin companions + Halsin and Rolan reacting to you asking them to help you work out/get fit? I've just started my fitness journey (for health reasons) and motivating myself can be really hard sometimes ;-;

good luck on your fitness journey, anon! i lost a load of weight over lockdown so i know that it can be difficult but i promise you it's possible!

Astarion

he' will literally complain the whole time but will do it anyway.

he doesn't work out with you, but he will sit to the side as you exercise and shout 'encouragements' at you.

"oh that weightlifting looks like it's absolutely awful, keep it up!" or he sees you eating a protein bowl and he's like "good on you for eating that but I'm glad I only need to survive off blood"

but still let you know he's proud of you and is, overall, supportive and sweet.

Gale

I am not a 'gale has abs' truther. sorry larian he has a str 8 I'm not buying it.

still, he will really really do his best to help be your workout partner.

if he spots you with weightlifting he has to do it with a mage hand too, or my boy is not strong enough to make sure you don't hurt yourself lol

he will get so knackered trying to keep up with you but he'll do it! he wants to be a good exercise partner!

is the best for looking up dietary stuff & researching into best exercises for the parts of your body you want to focus on.

maybe he does have abs by the time of you get into a good routine...

Wyll

Wyll is the only str8 companion I buy having abs. he's a swordsman and keeps himself lean to be good in a fight.

uses his swordmanship knowledge as a fitness regime - the two of you spar every day for long periods, it's a great workout!

helps you cool down after too, shows you the best way to help ease the sting of lactic acid.

he will sit down with you and make an exercise plan for each day. if he's doing this with you you're going the whole way, not half-arsing it.

exhausting but a great workout partner!

Karlach

very excited. jumps into training with you way too fast and hard. you are exhausted after the first couple of days and go to bed aching from it.

when she realises she cuts down on what she's asking you to do and tries to build up your strength and endurance on a curve rather than all at once.

she loves getting up early and going for a jog, just the two of you.

great at weight lifting. you're able to lift far more than you could every dream of after a couple of months.

she flexes at you and you flex back, then break into laughter. she loves having someone to do this with!

Shadowheart

especially when she's still a sharran, she is very much a 'feel the burn' sort of exercise partner.

your body hurts? good. keep going. that's how you know it's working. shar wants you to feel the pain.

lots of yoga and meditation, too. helps you restore balance to yourself after a tough session.

you go to bed sore every night but she just uses heals on you the next morning before you get going again.

it works but god, it is rough.

Lae'zel

"hmm. very well, i have seen how enviously you look at my body. i will train you to have my strength."

like karlach, she throws you in to the deep end, because that is how githyanki do it. unlike karlach she does not let up.

she is brutal but you see results quickly. another one of the companions who likes sparring. will make you fight her again and again until she can see proof your muscles are developing.

one day she gives you a compliment about how well you're doing and you're glowing for the rest of the day.

Halsin

for sure uses his wildshape to help you work out, turning into bigger and bigger animals and getting you to carry them as you run.

very supportive! constantly giving you a stream of praise about how well you are doing.

suggests good plants to supply you with extra vitamins, makes sure you are drinking water and staying hydrated.

being so old he probably has his own workout routine which he adapts for you. is aware of how much you can do but also helps you increase your endurance - he is the best at planning what you're doing that day.

Rolan

will. not. shut. up. about. how. he. hates. this.

"i don't want to do this >:(" "then don't." "no wait--"

groans and whines as he jogs next to you. eventually uses a floating disk to hover next to you as you run a circuit.

when you point out he's just giving up, that incites him, and he becomes a halfway decent workout buddy - he says it's just to spite you, but you think it may be because he enjoys spending time with you...

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powerpuffobsession · 6 months ago

Text

Am I the only one who feels that Hazbin Hotel's overall vibe is far too naive and upbeat for an adult cartoon about hell and redemption of sinners?

I feel like before writing this cartoon, Vivzie and the other writers should have made a trip to unfortunate areas of the world and watch how the lifestyle there rolls. Because hell is said to be a place of misery, where there is no trust and a lot of hate, both internal and external... Adam is an object of pure unfiltered hartred (both from writers and fandom) because he dares to live in heaven, such a safe and friendly-natured place...

And yet the sinners who happen to be main characters act more like school kids on a field trip (even more carefree than those, lol) - their selfish and sinful motives are so artificial and are brought up only when these characters need to look like a victim, not like criminals who somehow deserved a place in hell

Obviously, it's a manipulative trope to put them in a better light than Heaven and Adam (who is forever silenced by the writers and not allowed to voice any thoughts and reflections other than "hurr durr murder I luuuv murdering and being evil because that's what I was since I was born, even though Lilith and Eve, born literally the same way as me, were innocent victims from the get go, and no logical explanation for that will be provided whatsoever - men bad, women good")

In the light of all that, the sinners are too eager to trust each other and form "da epic powar of friendship" mlp-sonic-style

In a society built on terror, anarchy and survival instincts, no one would ever bother wasting vital power on noticing someone's problems and helping them out. Everyone is focused on their own problems and desires, and that's what drives them to act. Well, the exception may be family members, and even that varies

That's why Husk's intent to comfort Angel after the later attacks him over nothing at the bar, looks really fake, considering the setting. At first I thought that "loser baby" where Husk insults Angel, was some sort of revenge and Husk laughing in the spider's face. But no, it actually turned out to be a comforting song that started their friendship. Husk literally had no motivation to want to help Angel, because he was annoyed by him all the time prior. If there was some kind of basis for their bonding, I would have believed it. But not like this.

And Angel had no reason to actually like that sort of comfort. I get it when your best friend or a family member cheers you up in a harsh way - you know them. And even when coming from people you trust that can hurt. Now imagine a complete stranger doing that to you. That's actually something that shouldn't be done - trying to playfully insult or jester a person you haven't communicated with for a long enough time to gain their trust. And to make this even more strange, Angel at first reacts negatively, but then suddenly snaps to liking that disrespectful way of comforting for no reason at all.

And why did Angel even vent his problems to Husk, a stranger bartender who he'd hurt before. Wasn't he actually afraid of being laughed at and of Husk using his trauma to spread gossip around or something?

Next, Sir Pentious. In the pilot (which is officially part of canon, mind you), he already felt like a joke sunday cartoon villain, but at least he had some edge to him that made him look like a sinner with some dark history. In the series however, he gets nerfed the very moment he steps into the hotel to the point where it's painful to look at

His tendency to abuse his henchmen, his physopathic demeanor, his hartred for Cherri (instead of embarrassing attempts to get blue balled by her), his sincere power hunger - where did all that go? Vanished in a blink of an eye. All that's left of a promising snake demon is a pile of fanservice. So morally unchallenging and harmless that a viewer theoretically simply cannot resist loving him

Well i'm kind disappointed. We don't even know in what way Sir Pentious had to improve, because the plot never focused on his past, his life goals, whatever made him want to lead turf wars and whatever awful things he did in life, what was the point where he started degrading... none of that. He just became a better person after one "sorry song" and acted perfectly innocent ever since and didnt put any effort into getting ready to sacrifice himself for other main characters

The sacrifice... to me it's baffling how fast the sinners, over the course of just 6 months, actually became Charlie's family figures and risked their lives for her hotel. Such pure child-cartoon-styled power of friendship, built in hell, with the aid of a princess who cant even think through her project of helping sinners without bringing them more trouble... realistically, Charlie would have had to fight angels alone (how convenient it is that no main characters died in that chaotic brawl, right?)

And Charlie herself is far too naiive and soft-natured for someone who is free to walk along the streets of hell looking at all the muder, rape and othe horrible stuff that's happening there. Given that she's 200, Charlie had more than enough time to built up her street smarts and guts and learn to be more practical and mindful, instead of staying with the mind of a 12 year old who needs other characters to do everything for her (Lucifer, Vaggie, Alastor) and then get praised for THEIR efforts. That's hell's royalty and our main character?

Aaand since sinners are portrayed as Charlie's "people" (as if they are a nationality), sweet babies who all deserve redemption and are called innocent by Emily (I can't believe how dumb the writers made angels be) - the true essence of exterminatons is never focused on. Adam and his exterminator army are seen in the wrong, like some kind of monsters who terrorize poor souls. However, think about this - child molesters, rapists, torturers, bullies, nazists, actual racists etc died in those exterminations. Doesnt that seem like something a lot of us would want? To have scum like this disappear as revenge for people they have hurt/driven to suicide?

Exterminations are not really an act of racism, bigotry or something like that. They are an excecution of criminals, which a lot of sinners are.

But the black and white writing is trying to conceal that rather prominent highlight of the rotten part of Charlie's plan (not all sinners deserve mercy or redemption). All that was needed was to make exterminators these icky "villains" who luuuv killing and are never willing to listen

All in all, a cartoon that has an ambitious premise that should be driven by psychological reasearch/analysis and dark serious themes... makes me roll my eyes with its cliche use of "power of friendship" and " strictly good main characters, strictly bad villains" tropes. Too bad such beautiful animation was wasted on such juvenile writing that never had any effort put into it

There shouldn't even be any villains or heroes in a setting like this. Allow the lead roles (sinners in hell) do something actually questionable and be unlikable, don't coddle the viewer in fear of making them even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Allow those, who opposes sinmers, have personalities and reasons, not cliche sociopathy for sociopathy's sake to cause forced sympathy for the main characters

Pristine "safe" writing should not have a place in adult cartoons. Or else they will stay a product that'd rather be watched by 7-14 year olds instead of adults (I can't picture a single adult over 22 who would unironically call hazbin hotel a show that tackles realistic issues in an observant way)

#hazbin hotel critical

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lovesick-x-prince · 29 days ago

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For Whumptober:

Number 20: Emotional Angst

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

Prompt: Emotional Angst / Shoulder to Cry On / Giving Permission to Die / “It’s not your fault” Fandom: Third Life Pairing: Desert Duo Notes: I made this one set in Nobody Feels Like You, I'm sorry, I couldn't resist the urge, lol. Half of these Whumptober prompts will probably be set in Nobody Feels Like You, but you can still read them without knowing what that is! Warning for injury, angst, and death.

Scar is dying.

Grian is used to it.

That doesn’t mean he stops fighting against it. Scar’s breath is wet and ragged against his neck as Grian pulls him forward another step. The way Scar’s breathing hitches in pain, sharp and agonized, is familiar now, since Grian has been trying to get Scar to safety and listening to those sounds for the past twenty minutes. “Just a little further,” Grian lies, as though they aren’t in the middle of the Sand Lands, nothing but desert all around.

Even if Grian can get Scar to Monopoly Mountain, how is he meant to get him to the top of the mountain, into the safety of their home? It’s not possible - Grian banishes the thought from his mind, and takes another step, and another. Each time, Scar’s breath hitches, his arm jerking where it rests around Grian’s back, his fingers shuddering on Grian’s shoulder. “Grian,” Scar says, five, maybe ten steps later. Grian takes another step. “Grian. Grian, stop, I need - I need to sit -” “We can’t stop now,” Grian snaps back, raising his voice. He swallows. Purposefully gentles his tone as guilt swells thick in his throat. “... We can’t stop now.” “Grian -” “Just hold on a bit longer, and I can -” “Grian. Please.” One step. Another. Scar’s head falls to rest against Grian’s shoulder. Grian is basically dragging him along now, Scar barely able to help him with the task. As Scar’s face rests against Grian’s neck, Grian can feel the dampness of his partner's tears. He stops. Swallows. Slowly lowers them to the ground, holding Scar close, keeping his partner's head rested against him. “Thank you,” Scar rasps out, gratitude spilling between them, “thank you. It’s… it’s okay, G. It’ll be okay.” “How can you be trying to comfort me now?” Grian questions. His voice breaks, embarrassingly, and he has to squeeze his eyes tightly shut for a long moment to keep from crying himself. He hates Tango. He hates Tango, and his stupid traps, and his stupid arrows, and of course Scar had to take the arrow for Grian, even when he was already injured and bleeding and burnt - “You’re thinking too loudly,” Scar sighs, leaning away from him so he can peer directly into Grian’s eyes. Grian examines the stark, bright red of Scar’s irises, and fails at his attempt not to cry. “You promised,” he says instead. It’s a childish thing to say, a childish thing to rely on. It was a childish thing to demand of Scar in the first place, but Grian hadn’t demanded, he’d only clutched at Scar so tightly, gasping from nightmares, and begged Scar not to leave him, not to die -

“I promise,” Scar said, like it was a promise he could keep. “I’ll stay with you.” “You promised,” Grian says again, childishly.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry, I… I’m trying, G.” He was trying. Scar could have succumbed to his wounds already. He should have, really, if Grian were being honest with himself. Grian forces himself to look at Scar, to really look at him.

Scar’s clothing was mostly destroyed in the explosion, revealing swaths of dark, shiny, blistered skin. In some areas, the damage was so bad that the skin was actually black, already dead. Beyond the burns, there were countless scrapes, bruises, and cuts of all sizes, bleeding sluggishly. Through Scar’s side, an arrow was pierced, the tatters of the clothing that had survived there now soaked with dark blood.

Grian had to look away, bile in his mouth as he tried to focus through the wash of dizziness that had overcome him.

Scar was hurting. He was suffering so badly, only clinging on because of Grian’s selfish demand.

“... Come here,” Grian whispered, voice soft. When he looked back at Scar, his partner was already leaning towards him, like a sunflower trying to get closer to the sun.

Gently, Grian drew his partner into his arms, to lay across his lap. Any energy left in Scar seemed to vanish as soon as he was laying there - Scar went practically boneless, his face pushing into Grian’s hand when Grian brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. His eyelids were fluttering desperately, as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Grian could taste his tears in his mouth, wet and salty. He could see them, as they dripped cold off his chin, and down onto Scar, soaking into his shirt alongside the blood and the sweat and the dirt.

He placed a hand over Scar’s eyes, giving him blessed darkness.

“... Just a moment,” Scar said. His words were slurring, quiet. “Just… need a mo… then we can… continue.”

Grian shook his head, even though Scar couldn’t see him. He glanced up, and squinted into the sun, waiting a second before he responded, to make sure his voice would be steady.

“... It’s okay, Scar. You can go.”

“... Go where?”

“... You can go,” Grian said again. His voice broke again this time, despite his attempts to steady it.

Scar shifted in his lap, barely. Normally, he would be throwing himself up - searching for what it was that upset Grian, smattering out reassurances. Of course I’m not going anywhere, he would say, pouting, eyes wide, abandon our monopoly? Never. “... I’m… re-, really sorry.”

Grian shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I… I shouldn’t have… made you promise.”

Scar didn’t respond.

It was fine.

Grian would just have to try again.

#third life #desert duo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #hermitshipping #lovesick writing #nobody feels like you fic #nothing else i want fic #whumptober

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luveline · 2 years ago

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we've seen bodyguard!james being soft and sweet on r, but can we possibly get more of r being soft and sweet on him? <<<<3 like she cleans and patches him up after some sort of scuffle or close call? tysm! but no pressure if you don't want to! (p.s. would that be where they'd have their first official kiss, you think? lol)

thank you so much for your request! bodyguard james forever | fem!reader ♥︎ 1.6k

James' hands shake after events. Adrenaline, no matter how many times he's defended you, will run its course.

"Are you okay?" you ask him worriedly.

He presses a hand, trembling still, to his forehead. A cruel looking cut tugs with the movement, scabbed over and black-crimson.

"Fine," he says, following up with a low groan.

His knuckles are split from an unfortunate sucker punch that had, undoubtedly, protected you from a similar facial injury.

"You gonna go clean up?"

He sits up. "Yeah, sorry. Just waiting for my hands…"

You put your hands on each of his shoulders and push him back gently into your settee. "I wasn't trying to get rid of you. I don't want you to get an infection."

His shoulders relax ever so slightly.

"Hey," you say, "I could clean you up. If you want me to."

"No, you couldn't. It's a mess, I don't think your pristine bathroom would survive it."

His eyes crease with his smile. It quickly fades, an injury strained. You offer your hand to him, waiting in a tentative silence until he takes it. His fingers move to your wrist and you take his, pulling him up off of your settee with a happy sigh.

"I'm a great nurse," you promise. "You'll be brand new by tonight."

He lets you take him into the bathroom, a generosity to pretend you're strong enough to force him, your link tugging between you with every step. He sits on the lowered toilet seat lid and his hand forgets to let you go as you walk away.

"I need the first aid kit," you say.

He clears his throat, dropping your wrist. You think about it too much, the pleasure of his naturally wanting to hold onto you a blooming light you suspect radiates from your appled cheeks. You tamp down your smile and get back to business, retrieving your immaculate first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink and popping it open next to the sink. It's a huge kit, James instated, with silver sealed bandages, sterile gauze and wraps, tiny scissors and huge fabric shears, everything you could ever need to perform minor surgery.

"Face or hands first?" you ask unsurely.

"Face is easier. It just needs disinfectant, and a butterfly stitch."

He sees your eyes widen and laughs, though his laugh makes him wince. "Butterfly bandage, angel. It's not a real stitch. You've seen them, they're those grey plastic strips."

You try to laugh your embarrassment away as you wash your hands. "Right, I know."

First, you wipe the blood away from his face with a warm towel. He's gracious, closing his eyes as you lean in toward him. You're conscious that he can smell you, and you wonder if you smell good. You probably smell like sweat from all the panic, and that makes you cringe.

"Sorry if I smell bad," you mumble.

He opens one eye to squint at you. "You smell bad? Why would you smell bad?" His eyes close again as you wash over his mean cut. "You smell really nice. Like flowers."

"It's the lilac and mandora perfume, in the fancy bottle."

He hums. "Remind me again what mandora is?"

"Citrus," you murmur, more focused on his skin than his question.

His blood stains your face cloth, muslin slowly changing from a light cream to rusted orange. You set it next to the kit and rip open an alcohol wipe next.

"I'm sorry," you say preemptively. "I know it'll sting. I'll be quick."

He shakes his head. "Don't be. You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

Why would he say that? You want to ask him. Jamie, why would you say that? It's nearly cruel, because what are you supposed to think? You bite your tongue and hold your breath as you clean the length of his wound, cringing at the feeling of the split in his skin. His tone had been so soft, a juxtaposition when compared to the ruggedness of his appearance.

"Don't get blood on your sleeves," he says.

"Does it matter? I'll never wear this dress again. God forbid I wear the same thing twice."

"I wish they'd let you."

"I'm sure you do," you mutter sarcastically.

"I do. I'd want you to wear the one you had at your fathers Christmas Ball, the silver-gold one, with the tiny sleeves, that one was–" He hisses at your last tugging wipe. "It was beautiful. You looked beautiful."

You stroke his forehead lightly, a stolen touch you shouldn't take. Your fingertips kiss his eyebrow, and then you force yourself away from him.

You can't bring yourself to say thank you. Words feel impossible.

His cut bleeds again, but it's a sluggish droplet that rivers down the slope of his temple a millimetre a second. He stays perfectly still as you pinch the skin ever so gently closed with one butterfly stitch.

You wipe away the blood with another alcohol wipe.

His hand is a more intricate affair. It's not shaking anymore, but it's clearly amazingly sore. You wipe off all the blood with a wipe, and apply a disinfectant cream over the worst of it. You run out of things to do.

You're not eager to let go of his hand.

You let your fingerpads slide over his uninjured skin until you're holding his wrist in two hands. You squeeze. There's a reverence to your touch.

"Thank you for looking after me," you say.

You both look up from your contiguity at the same time, comfortable enough with one another that your eyes lock and there's no awkwardness or tension.

"They pay me," he says, "to do so. Please, don't say thanks."

He's right, they do. They pay James to take care of your physical wellbeing. But all his compliments, all his sweet caring, that's for free. He might've taken a punch for you because he had to, but he'd hugged you in the car on the way home because he wanted to. He'd rubbed your arm, whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart. It was a fluke, huh?"

A fluke is the word he uses for stalker situations, people that have deluded themselves into thinking they know you, or that they need to talk to you. Now that you're in the public eye it happens more and more, and it sucks, but a fluke that grows aggressive after rejection will always be better than people who want to hurt you from the get go. Kidnappers, 'assassins', if they actually exist.

"Can I give you a hug?" you ask him.

He lifts his chin. He has a pretty chin, a lovely jaw, and you know in your heart what you're going to do before you do it.

"Course you can," he says cheerily. "Bring it in."

Your arms fall over his shoulders, your wrists crossed. You rub your cheek against his mildly and breathe in his smell. The disinfectant stick tickles your nose, but his real smell, his rosemary hair oil, his lotion, has you breathing him in greedily.

"You should change out of this uncomfortable thing," he says, big hands feeling huge as they smooth down the dip of your spine. Calluses over silk.

"I will… It's not fun getting changed when you aren't on shift." You squeeze him tighter, wishing immediately that you could disappear. "That's not how it sounded in my head."

"How did it sound in your head?"

"I don't know. I like asking you what moisturiser to use, and… what nightgown to wear. I like having you there to help me out of my bracelets and necklaces."

"An attendant can be sent up–"

You groan wearily. "No, it's not like that, James." You pull back just enough to see his face. You're pouting, annoyed at yourself for messing it up. "This isn't as easy to say as I'd thought. I like having you with me because it's you. And it's an excuse."

"For what?" he asks.

Your heart hammers in your chest. You can feel it, your heart the hammer, your chest a thin piece of metal. It's thumping. You wouldn't be surprised if James could feel it too.

"Can I do something? Just this once. And if you hate it I'll never do it again. Please."

He looks at you for long, crawling seconds. You worry he's seen straight into your head and he's unhappy with you, but he tips his head in toward yours, your foreheads a mere inch away, and says, "Alright. I trust you. Do what you want to do."

You breathe in. You pull back your hands, leaning against the circle of his arms. Terrified, you lift your hands to his cheeks, force them trembling into the softness of his skin to hold him still.

You lean in, and you kiss him. Shy of his lips, the slope of skin beneath them and to the left. You're too scared to go any higher.

He makes a sound you've never heard from him before. It doesn't make it past his lips, but you're so close you hear it loud and clear. A catching breath. A smothered groan.

You hide your face in his shoulder.

"Princess?" he says quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to do it again. Please."

"Maybe tomorrow," you murmur.

He rubs your back. "Alright. I can't wait 'til tomorrow."

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders #bodyguard!james potter #bodyguard!james #bodyguard!au

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