#from them digging their sharp little claws into me trying to keep their balance when they’re being pushed off lol

[superfluffychickens]

The Shoulder Gang™️

[grimoiredraconis]

I feel kinda weird about reblogging this because i mostly agree but still think going to therapy is a good thing? Its not a substitute for being loved but its also like, not my loved ones' job to help my fix myself. It quite literally is the therapist's job, though. still- the whole original post is largely correct. I'm personally still learning to do that, to bare my issues to them so that we can help each other, and too often I make a problem out of nothing trying.

You end up balancing yourself on a precipice trying to trust people but also not to be too much or whatever- and what's "too much" is largely self-determined because it can be so very hard to trust people to tell you when you're too much. You hurt people trying not to hurt them, you become a source of exhaustion and pain and if you're lucky they'll tell you and if you're not? They'll hide and and lie to you. Nobody ever did tell you before the people you have now, or they only told you when it was no longer a problem you could fix and now everything's come crashing down around you, or you tried to fix the problem and failed really hard because either you were the only one trying, or they wouldn't show you the right way to do it. The only ones who did...are still around, you suppose. You pull back into yourself, self-recriminating and stewing in self-loathing and self-flagellation, and that too becomes a problem. You're so used to every problem either being a catastrophe or being able to be blown up to catastrophic proportions it's made you fatalistic and tending to catastrophize- and you'll unwillingly admit this is simply somewhat your nature as well, and you struggle to understand why people would forgive you for things you wouldn't even register as problems, were you on their end of things. So you try your best, and you fail pretty often, but it's still worth it, you think- for the words and love shared, for that priceless time together- for that helping each other. it's worth letting yourself be loved, even broken and incomplete as you are, because it's love and that's what that means. You want to be that person- that person they love, and the best version of yourself you can be. You think you do so little for them in exchange for what they do for you, but every time you pull away and into yourself, there's pain and exhaustion and concern and sometimes you hardly understand what they get from having you around, from loving you, but you have to try- because you love them and they love you. You're getting better, and you're trusting and learning to trust more- you already trust with so much, but sometimes things as simple as 'hey, spend time with me' terrify you to ask. Sometimes you wonder- will their patience run out first or will you become the person you're trying to be, for your own and for their sakes? You are assured that even if their patience runs out, they'll regain it, and you won't be abandoned, though- and isn't that a wonderful thing? You're so tired of being abandoned. Good enough is a lie-your goalposts will always keep shifting no matter how much progress you make...but good enough for those you love? you can do that, you think. Especially as you learn to let go of some things and hold people tight even when you're afraid the barbed wire and broken glass will cut them, when you're afraid the muck and poison will choke them, that your fire will burn them, that the cold and distance you sometimes resort to will truly drive them away. And if thorn and claw and the sharpness of harsh words and fears of things that will not come to pass dig into you, that's fine- because they're holding you, too. It's going to be alright, even if it hurts sometimes. You need to trust them with your joy more, and your pain more. You feel roots growing into your heart, wires and little tendrils, welds and adhesive holding you together as you feel their growing places in your heart, and yourself growing into theirs. They are too far in to rip out, now- and that makes you more secure- because if that's true, nearly any problem can be gotten past. Aren't you surrounded by so many wonderful people? Maybe you're not such a broken little thing after all, if so many people love you. Maybe you're as worthy of being loved as you think they are. If the bonfire in your heart is any judge, you must be quite something, for so many wonderful people to give of themselves to you and take what you give in return.

from rayne fisher-quann’s latest substack post

[elisela]

Ooh, for the November Prompts, 28 for Sterek? Just Stiles comforting Derek ❤

hold you through stiles x derek, hear it in the silence, established relationship, comfort

---

Derek’s fallen asleep again. Stiles is used to it; he’s the one who sleeps in, burying himself under the covers in their little camper that they rented to drive across Canada with while Derek communes with nature or whatever he does. He claims he’s just running, but Stiles has always considered Derek a sane person—okay maybe not always but certainly recently—and he doesn’t see how anyone would think that running in two feet of snow is a good way to start their morning. So Stiles sleeps in, nose pressed to the still-warm pillow beside him because you can’t live your life with werewolves without picking up a few of their weird habits, and only wakes up once Derek’s got breakfast ready.

Stiles can’t say he likes basically living in the woods, but Derek does, and he definitely likes Derek, so he’ll put up with it for a few weeks.

But all that running in the morning means that Derek’s asleep long before he is, snuggled down with his head on Stiles’ chest on the inflatable couch he made fun of Stiles for buying until he realized how close they had to be to share the space. And this—this is Stiles’ favorite time of the day, when Derek’s face is soft and gentle in sleep, when he rubs his cheek against Stiles’ chest and hums deep in his throat, trusting that Stiles will keep him safe when all his defenses are down.

They have a fire going tonight; an indulgence thanks to the break in fresh snow. Derek had shown him how his family used to cook stew over an open fire, keeping it low and simmering all day, covering crusty bread rolls they got from the bakery in the nearest town in foil and balancing them on the lid of the pot until he’d declared it all done. Stiles had fed more logs into it as Derek cleaned up after them, grabbed the books they were reading and snuggled down until Derek was yawning.

He thinks about waking him before he puts it out; it’s died down low, not casting nearly enough light for Stiles to read by anymore, but he decides against it. He reaches for the bottle of water he’d been sipping from and turns his head, squinting one eye to aim before he squeezes, water shooting out and dousing the fire from where he sits. It hits the logs with a hiss, fire going out quickly, and he’s just making sure to remind himself to check it once more before they go in the camper when he’s hauled to his feet and dragged away faster than he can blink. It startles him so badly that he yells, swinging his fist out and connecting it with a solid chest before he realizes what’s going on.

“Derek—Derek, stop,” he says, getting his hands around Derek’s arms and shaking. “Stop.”

Derek’s eyes are flashing blue, claws sharp against Stiles’ bicep where he’s holding him. “Smoke,” he rasps; even in the pitch dark, Stiles can see his eyes looking around the small clearing frantically. “I smelled smoke—”

“I put the fire out,” he says, moving a hand over Derek’s hammering heart. “It’s just that, okay? Everything’s fine.” Derek’s grip lets up and he pulls him closer, sliding one arm around his waist and the other over his shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss to Derek’s cheek. “Everything’s fine, baby. You’re okay.”

There’s a minute where he can tell Derek’s struggling to get his breathing under control so he just rubs his back slowly, digging his other hand into the soft hair on the back of his head and scratching gently. And then Derek shudders out a breath and drops his head, burying it into Stiles’ neck. “Are you? Did I hurt you?”

“A little,” he says, because his arm is sore and lying would make Derek feel worse. “I won’t feel it in the morning, don’t feel guilty about trying to keep me safe big guy, okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Derek sounds miserable, guilty and terrified all at once, and it breaks Stiles’ heart. “I thought—”

“I know,” he murmurs when it’s clear Derek’s not going to continue. His adrenaline is starting to wear off and he realizes he’s shivering, standing in knee-high snow and slowly getting soaked. “Let’s go make sure it’s out and we’ll go to sleep. Come on.”

“I can’t,” Derek says. “I don’t think I can sleep.”

He turns his head and kisses him, slow and sweet until Derek responds, mouth moving against his. “That’s okay,” he says when he pulls away. “We can keep the window open if you need it, but that’s okay. We can do whatever you need. We don’t have to sleep.”

They make sure the fire is out—Derek checks three times while Stiles is changing into dry pajamas, then shovels snow on top just to be certain—and he thinks about starting the generator to heat up water for tea but forgets about it when Derek drags him into bed, opening up both of the tiny windows in the camper. He puts an extra blanket on his side of the bed and crawls in, watching as Derek flips back and forth for a minute before he flips onto his stomach and covers half of Stiles’ body with his own.

“Tired?” Stiles asks, though he knows the answer by the way Derek is fighting sleep, head jerking up every once in a while whenever he starts to drift. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll keep an eye out. I got you.”

Derek breathes out, noisy against his neck. “Promise.”

“I promise,” he says, kissing his cheek. “I’ve got you.”

[redlegend-a]

monterraverde​:

“Awful is putting it lightly, but… It’s a delicate dance we’re doing, trying to balance the regions peace and whatever’s going on in there…” She sighs, but then she she sees he’s almost panicking, crawling over a little bit to get a closer look.

“Silph’s got a hand in this…?” She blinks slowly, but Sada had so MANY of them down there apparently- Every single pokemon she brought in was in a master ball, so was she just… manufacturing them herself? How in the world was she getting the materials? information on how to make them and stuff was easy enough to send through the internet but…?

Still so many unanswered questions… The implications of which were making her want to go back down there and finally get to the bottom of it…

“It’s… Sick? Oh no- With what? It seemed perfectly normal when we were fighting it, energized by the sun as it was… I’ve been around one long enough that I know that much… Did it maybe get something from when it bit you? No way it could have immunity to the bacteria and stuff we have in our blood and on our skin… bring your pokemon back to their balls, lets let her out and try and get a better idea of what’s going on.” She hums, fishing her face mask out of her hoodie pockets and putting it on before picking her balls up off her belt, ready to do the same and recall her team.

<< League.>>

He signs it flatly, with space for contemplation and a deep frown. It’s appropriately League protocols. Time and time again, it would blow up in their faces. He signs it one more time.

<< Master Ball was a Team Rocket Project. Worked with Silph, willing conspirator to develop something that could kill free will. Supposed to catch Rampaging Gods. Won’t find anything that really works like a Master Ball outside of Silph’s research. Rocket took research when they disappeared. Won’t give it up.>>

He balances his head on his palm, staring into the flames for a long while. There’s a familiar claw of absolutely old anger sinking into his heart.

Damn you.

Red lets his hand fall to use it, mouthing each word.

<< You’re going to become a monster if you keep doing this. And someone like me is going to stand against you. And condemn you in ways you can’t imagine. >>

But portent warnings were for the future and those that would heed them. He digs his teeth into his lip and whistles, sharp and shrill. It catches the attention of his team, Espeon included, playing in the sand. 

Snorlax rumbles awake. Blastoise turns to listen, comfortable in the dark.

Go to the Port.

Venusaur lets out a sharp warble, and sinks to her haunches, springing with enough force to kick up a storm of hand and dim the flame. He hears her land an insane distance away, cracking a cliffside. Espeon gives him a look, and he watches her dash off. Blastoise and Snorlax are in no rush to vacate the area, and slowly trudge after them. 

Pikachu wakes, and he twitches, worried, before running up Red’s shoulder to sit.

He’s staying.

<< They’ll go get medicine. >>

Red stands, and tosses the ball in the vacated spot, watching the light form into the huge creature.

She’s huge, and she’s crunched into a ball, clicking, buzzing. Her fuzz has pink spots. She doesn’t react to him either, stepping close to her.

Bad sign.

Worse sign, he sinks a hand over her fluff and pulls back red mucus. 

[the-smallest-star]

“YOU!”

The voice was deep and growling as the sinner grabbed their table and wrenched it clean off of the balcony. Alarmed the twins jumped to their feet, backing up as the scorpion drew closer. “Who’s this guy?!” Patch squeaked, there wasn’t time to explain. Gritt grabbed his little brother’s hand and ran for the door. “SHARP!” He called desperately.

Butch leaped over them, landing heavily before them. A large, pissed off demon was now between them and the only way off of the balcony, a claw swinging in Patch’s direction. This was between him and Gritt.

Seeing the motion Gritt shoved his brother enough and took the blow full force. Everything went dark.

Patch saw Gritt take the hit for him, rushing to get back to catch the other when the balcony strained and began to break. Butch’s sudden leap over them had weakened the supports, as well as the heard of fleeing patrons. It began to tip.

The other demons on the balcony cried out as they began to slide and fall, Patch was loosing his own balance and saw Gritt start to slide back. “Gritt!!” He yelled as Butch lunged. He didn’t count on them not being alone. He felt a heavy impact on his back when sent him flying over the twins, Sharp having joined the scrap with teeth bared as his foot slammed into the scorpion.

It didn’t help the balcony’s already straining supports, feeling it tip more Patch and Gritt began to freefall, “FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!” Patch cried as they slipped, trying to angle himself to get closer to his brother as the two much larger demons continued to exchange blows further down. He had to think fast as he saw a broken table pole. Grabbing Gritt’s hand he used his other to grab the pole, crying out as it wrenched his arm in its socket at the sudden stop. He was lucky it didn’t dislocate.

Patch didn’t have the strength to pull them both to safety, watching as furniture and people slid by tumbling down the side of the towering building. He could see Butch clock Sharp in the nose who in turn sank his teeth into the offending arm. His hands were now claws, latched into the floor to keep himself from falling. Butch’s scorpion tail flashed dangerously close to the shark sinner only to be dodged and a foot be firmly planted into his chest with a strong SHOVE. Butch was dislodged and fell out of sight.

Just how much had Patch missed for Gritt to have enemies like this?!

His thoughts were interrupted as a decorative couch was sliding their way, knocking the pole and causing Patch to loose his grip on it and unfortunately Gritt. “GRITT!!!” He shrieked, unknowingly catching Sharp’s attention.

With a heavy grunt he grabbed Patch and as he swung grabbed Gritt’s leg in his teeth, his hand was the only thing keeping them from falling.

It was a dangerous predicament but Sharp knew his own strength, teeth digging in enough to grip the imp but not sever his leg or cause major damage. Judging from their lack of response Butch struck them hard. “T-That was too close.” Patch wheezed, doing his best not to look down at the concrete and traffic far below.

“Clime oo iy ack.” Sharp directed to Patch, who gave him a very confused look. A growl of frustration escaped Sharp and he swung the imp onto his back who squeaked in alarm and clung tight. It freed up his hand to remove Gritt from his jaws. “I said, ‘climb on my back’ now hold on to it while I figure out how to get us outta this.“ He snapped. There was no sign of the scorpion, not even any remains far below... they must of got away. Gritt wasn’t in any condition to hold on to him and Patch... well he didn’t know him personally. The only way out was up.

“I’m going to have to climb. Hold on to me.” He directed to Patch, trying to work out how he was going to climb with two imps one of which was unconscious. “O-Okay... thanks for-” “Don’t thank me- If he wasn’t my boss and you his brother I would not of gotten involved.” He pointed out with a glare, Patch fell silent after that.

His lovely leather shoes were not going to let him climb up with ease. Groaning he moved Gritt, now holding his middle between his teeth, reaching down he undid his shoes and removed them to let them fall. With his feet now bare he stretched his toes, claws emerging. He liked those shoes too.

With a grunt he swung himself, all claws piercing the flooring of the balcony with a CRACK each time. Slowly he dragged them closer towards the doorway, shark tail twitching as the balcony groaned and grinded. He could feel Patch cling a little tighter, clearly frightened. Rolling his four eyes he continued his slow climb.

[nessaxc]

___________________________________

Date Night || Gojo Satoru

Gojo takes you out to dinner, but the flirty waitress at the restaurant really gets on your nerves, so Gojo is determined to assure you that he only has eyes for you.

~ Words: 2.5k

~ NSFW 18+

___________________________________

"I'm glad I got to see you tonight, I've missed my princess," he leaned across the table to nuzzle his nose against yours gently, and you returned the same motion with a soft giggle.

"I've missed you too," you replied, "it's about time you made some time for me," you added.

"Well, you know, Tokyo keeps me busy," he told you with a chuckle, "but I had to take my best girl out, I know how lonely she gets without me around," he teased.

You giggled and propped your elbow up on the dinner table, balancing your chin in your hand as you held his gaze. He was smiling and shaking his head at you, mimicking your pose, only he rested both elbows on the table and cupped his face with his hands as he looked at you from across the table.

"You look beautiful in that dress by the way, but what else is new, huh?" he winked and broke eye contact for a moment to admire the dress that perfectly hugged your figure, "I'm glad you wore it."

You giggled again at that and twirled a small section of hair around your index finger, smiling down at your lap for a moment before you looked back up at him.

"I'm glad you wore that suit and tie. You should wear it more often, because you clean up pretty well," you grinned and leaned forward slightly to whisper, "by the way, you're really pretty too."

"Am I really pretty?" he joked and batted his lashes, letting his jaw hang slack with a smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth over the way you instantly cracked up laughing. He chuckled airily as he continued to look you up and down, and you had to turn away in attempt to hide the deep blossoming of your cheeks.

"Yes, you're very pretty," you said with a soft chuckle when you turned back to him.

..

"Good evening, can I get you anything?"

A young waitress made her way onto the scene before Gojo could respond to you, and she appeared to be addressing just him rather than both of you. She beamed brightly at him and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting out a hint of a giggle that you couldn't help but roll your eyes at.

"Some menus would be nice," he grinned up at her and she flaunted her smile right back at him, making it a mission to maintain eye contact for as long as possible and throw in a bat of the lashes here and there.

"I'll go get those for you right now," she bowed her head and smiled softly, but she didn't leave until she'd make a point of leaning towards him slightly to tell him, "by the way, that tie looks great on you, really compliments your complexion."

She was already flirting with him right in front of you whilst being so brazen about it, and it was really taking everything in you not to totally snap. You didn't want dinner to be spoiled by your temper, though, you could already feel yourself starting to lose your appetite because you were red hot with anger right now. You sat there silently and waited for her to leave, gritting your teeth and casting your gaze downward the entire time.

"Thank you very much," he thanked her before she walked away and when he turned back around to face you, he was greeted by raised brows, pursed lips and your eyes glimmering for the wrong reasons. You half-smirked at him and cleared your throat whilst picking at your nails to avoid looking up at him.

"I think she's expecting a tip from you tonight," you managed to make a joke out of it and mustered a small laugh.

He chuckled lightly and acted completely dismissive about it, waving it off as her following some sort of transcript, "It's just service with a smile, Y/N."

He insisted, but you just forced a smile on your face. You fiddled with the cutlery that rested to your side and toyed with the napkin as well, offering yourself a distraction rather than look up at him for the moment.

"Yeah, too many smiles in your direction, though, if you ask me," you sassed, and he laughed loudly at that.

"Babe, something the matter?" he raised an eyebrow curiously, an amused grin on his face. Before you had the time to open your mouth and retort, she soon returned with the menus.

She carelessly laid yours down in front of you while she actually handed Gojo his, making sure to brush her hand over his as she did so. You glared at her but your look went missed, and you were doing a pretty good job of keeping your mouth shut so far, no matter how badly you wanted to tell this girl to back off.

She started babbling on about something that he should try on the menu, ensuring to flash him her smile and bat her lashes some more. She was giggling like he had told the funniest joke, and you were clutching onto a fork tightly with a hand, thinking about digging it deep into her neck. Gojo was a bad influence on you. She brought her hand closer to his so she could flip through the pages and show him exactly what she was describing. You cleared your throat and decided to speak up, because this girl was getting on your last nerve.

"Could you give us a few moments to decide what we're having? Thank you," you gave her possibly the most painfully forced smile you could muster, somehow managing to keep a level head when she withdrew her hand and acknowledged you for the first time since she'd stop at your table. She simply nodded and smiled meekly before walking away, and Gojo’s bright blue eyes shot towards you to give you a look that was nothing short of sheer surprise at how sharp you'd been in your manner of speech.

"Did I miss something?" he cracked up laughing, "My little kitten's got a sharp set of claws, eh?" he remarked before his laughter starting to die down. "I thought she was a rather nice lady," he said with another chuckle.

He scanned over the menu to find a dish that stood out to him. You squinted at him and leaned into him, lightly bringing the menu down to have him look you in the eyes instead.

"Really, Satoru? I wouldn't class the light touches on the hand, the needless giggling and overall acting like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush as just 'being nice'," you snapped slightly, "she's flirting with you, a lot, and I'm sick of it."

"Oh, I see where this is going," he said with a knowing smirk that stretched its way across his lips a few seconds later. You noticed this and your hand targeted your menu in an instant as some form of shield to hide behind to avoid the stares he was giving you, and he lowered your menu down just like you had done to him.

"I think somebody's jealous when she really doesn't need to be," he sang and kept his eyes trained on your face. "So what if she's flirting a little bit? I'm not interested in the slightest," he told you, and you heaved a sigh before he continued, "you have nothing to worry about, my sweet," he said with a smirk, amused with your envy.

"Seriously? You mean that?" you asked, nibbling on your lower lip.

"Course I do," he said, "she could be on her knees begging for my cock and I would say no if that'd make you feel better about it," he finished, and you laughed at that.

"I'm not even feeling that hungry anymore," you said, "she's just so irritating," you huffed, and he looked at you like he was thinking of something until his brain hatched an idea.

"Forget about dinner, I know what will cheer you up, c'mon," he stretched his arm out for you to grab his hand, and you quickly took it in yours. He walked with you until you both reached the closest bathroom - the women's room.

"Um, Satoru, I don't think you're supposed to be in here," you quipped with a short giggle.

"Oh trust me, I am," he cooed. Once the door was closed, he lifted you up by your thighs and pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking your neck in little bites and harsh kisses, not caring about the purple marks he left in his wake.

"Satoru," you gasped his name out, much to his delight.

You let out a soft moan of approval through your own lips as you lifted your hips up in absolute desperation, wanting more of him, and wanting it now.

"I only have eyes for you, Y/N, you and only you," he told you as he continued to cover your neck in wet kisses, and you couldn't help lean your head back to give him easier access. Realizing that you both were still out in the open, he carried you into the bathroom stall, pressing you up against the nearest and sturdiest wall.

He tugged his pants down from his hips and quickly pushed his boxers down to his knees, just far enough to allow his thick and fully hard member to spring up. He nearly ripped your panties down your thighs and threw them to the floor, holding you up with one hand and using the other to glide up your thigh, one finger slipping up your wet folds. He grinned knowingly before he leaned in to growl in your ear, "Look at how wet for me you already are," he hummed, "mm, how bad do you want me?"

Just the slightest touch drove you absolutely wild, and you seemed to forget everything that took place before he brought you in this stall. You keened in the back of your throat and rocked your hips down against his finger, moaning out, "Fuck me, Satoru. I need you so bad. Please!" you cried.

"Well when you say it like that, I don't see how I could say no," he cooed. He grasped his member firmly until he was lined up to your entrance, exhaling loudly as he crouched down to push in. He took his time entering your body at first, watching the pleasure overcome your features. Once you had adjusted to his girth, he set a rough pace, taking you quickly in broad deep strokes that jarred your body and caused your head to slam back into the wall as you surrendered yourself to his movements, hips grinding forward in an attempt to keep tempo. He doesn't waste time going slow, knowing you both needed relief fast.

Grasping his shoulders tightly, you moaned, the volume increasing with each thrust until you were sure you would both get caught.

"That's it, let the whole goddamn restaurant know who's fucking you," he managed to say between his own moans and grunts. "You're doing so good, baby, so good," he praised.

You answered with an even louder moan, shoving your hips forward in a demand for him to go faster, grinding your clit against his pelvis whenever you could.

"Your cunt feels so fucking perfect, squeezing me like this, fuck," he ground out.

He obliged your command, snapping his hips into yours relentlessly, the sounds spilling from your lips urging him on.

"You look so good baby, you always do," he uttered through a pant, "you fucking drive me crazy." He quickly added, "Do you know how beautiful you look when you're all stretched out on my cock?"

One hand gripped onto your hair and he tugged backwards just enough to show you dominance as he pounded into you with no mercy, the sounds of your high pitched moans bouncing off the walls, mixed with his deep grunts and the sound of hot skin slapping against skin.

"Look at you, you're always so fucking pretty, so fucking perfect like this," he told you. His hips moved in the most sinful way, filling you up just perfectly, and he seemed to find that special spot inside you so skillfully, making you cry out in ecstasy.

"You like that, baby? You like how good I make you feel? Good girl, moaning for me and showing the entire diner who's gonna make you come," he hissed into your ear as his thrusts became more erratic, slamming into you again and again as he kept his wild pace up.

"Mmmm!" you hummed. You threw your head back and arched your torso sharply, screaming out in pleasure when your body started to quake with the sensation of your orgasm barreling towards you. His fingers left little purple prints on your hips at how tight he was squeezing your hips, knowing you were both close to your climax.

"Show me how much you like it, come for me," he rasped.

He maintained the angle of his thrusts, continually hitting a sensitive spot within your body until you were convulsing in his arms, orgasm rocking you to the very core. He wasn't far behind, taken over the edge by the tight clenching or your walls around his member.

Exhaling loudly, he relaxed his body against yours as you both came down from your peaks. The wall was the only thing keeping you both up as you wilt, exhausted from your spontaneous lovemaking. Finding the energy to pull back, he kissed you gently, running his fingers through your hair to fix the disrupted locks. You smiled into the kiss, body buzzing from your orgasm and heart glowing at his gestures.

You both cleaned up as best as you could in the stall, he helped adjust the skirt of your dress before moving to fix his own disarrayed hair.

"You had no reason to be jealous, Y/N, like I said I only have eyes for your pretty little face," he nuzzled his nose against yours, and you did the same in return, laughing with each other.

"Thank you, Satoru," you said with a soft giggle when you stepped out of the bathroom stall with him.

"Anything for you, babe," he told you as he intertwined his fingers with yours, walking out with you, "now let's go eat," he started, "we can even put on a little show for her under the table so she knows not to mess with you," he suggested with a loud laugh.

"I like the sound of that," you replied with a broad smirk on your face. That wasn't a bad idea.

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[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is. 

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks. 

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table. 

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned. 

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.” 

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens. 

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.” 

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings. 

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.   

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row. 

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare. 

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat. 

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.  

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.  

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure. 

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour. 

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue. 

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.  

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague. 

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’ 

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’ 

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out  high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’ 

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea. 

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened. 

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 15

Masky and Hoodie: Threesome

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

There was never anything romantic about your late night rendezvous with the proxies

They were purely means to an end; stress relief from your grueling, seemingly endless stream of work

No strings attached; just the way you like it

Tonight is no different

As soon as you reach their cabin, they‘re on you like depraved, horny teens, eager to palm you up and run their calloused hands over every inch of your body

Your clothes fall away much too easily, accompanied by the sound of tearing, leaving you completely bare before them

Masky’s fingers brush over the back of your neck, tangling into the fine hairs at the base of your scalp, and with a sharp tug, he yanks your head back

You groan, feeling the warmth of his breath on your neck, his porcelain mask tilted up as he hums

You’re so malleable, so perfectly bendable to his will

His touch has goosebumps dancing up your arms, your entire body like a live wire about to implode

Another set of hungry fingers dig into your waist, pulling you flush between the two

Hoodie nips at the other side of your neck, his mask also pulled up halfway to graze his teeth along your skin

You whimper, his pelvis grinding into yours, and the way his bulge feels stretched over his jeans already has you weak at the knees

A hand lifts your leg up, hooking it around their forearm to grant them both unrestricted access to your pulsing sex

“Your thighs look so lovely when they’re spread apart for us, sunshine~”

Masky’s voice is a husky murmur against your ear

His tongue teases along the shell of the cartilage, and just as you shudder from the contact, Hoodie snaps his hips forwards—right against your clit

You can’t contain your gasp, hands fluttering to his broad shoulders, trying to steady yourself through the haze of sex overpowering your mind

He snickers

“Aren’t you so eager~”

Your face flushes at the teasing comment because he’s right

Masky’s grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back further against his shoulder, while his other hand moves between you and Hoodie to reach your clit

“F-fuck—!”

Your hips buckle, nearly losing balance as he jerks at your pearl

“So wet already, baby?”

When you can only answer with a pathetic whine, Hoodie groans

“She likes being used—don’t you, dollface? You like being our perfect little cocksleeve, hm?”

You bite back another moan, trying to rock yourself harder against them, feeling Masky’s erection dig into your backside while Hoodie’s rubs against your front

“F-fuck me, I need more~” you whine

You tug on the belt loops of Hoodie’s jeans, pulling him closer in to the point where it almost hurts

He chuckles, humming, and pulls away briefly to tug his shirt off over his smooth, strong torso

You’re almost embarrassed by the wet spot you’ve left on his pants, his crotch noticeably darker against his hard-on

But then your eyes are screwing shut as you cry out, legs trembling as Masky’s pace grows unbearably hard and fast at your swollen clit

“Oh—oh God, s-shit, Masky!~”

Your hands flutter down to his forearm, needing a grip on something as your knees buckle—until the only thing keeping you up is his frame and the hand tangled in your hair

Part of you registers Hoodie’s mouth at your chest but the feeling‘s almost immediately overpowered as two gloved fingers push past your entrance

You mewl, panting and moaning obscenities, body squirming and twitching in their holds

The mouth at your tits moves down, all the way below your navel, and then Masky’s hands are roaming up your front, returning attention to your nipples as a tongue dips between your legs

Your back arches desperately

“F-fuck—I can’t—I’m gonna—!”

You pull at Hoodie’s hair through the inky black mask, bringing him flush against your aching heat

“You gonna cum for us, sunshine? Gonna fall apart so easily already?”

“M-Masky—God, fuck—yes!”

You lose track of your lewd cries until all you can focus on is the winding knot in your stomach and it’s nearly blinding

It bursts as you come undone, euphoria overriding your senses, your whole body sent buckling and jerking and writhing at the beckon of the two men

Hoodie laps at your cunt in long, broad strokes, cleaning up as much of your mess as he can while you struggle in Masky’s hold because it’s so much

You’re still shaking as he moves away, easing you down from your high,  the adrenaline still pounding in your ears while you try to catch your breath

“Should we move to the bed?” Hoodie’s voice thick and husky as he licks the rest of your arousal from his lips

Masky groans behind you, strong hands never once faltering in their hold

“Too far, I’m getting impatient”

His belt clatters as he unbuckles it, and though you’re still recovering from your first orgasm, the sound is enough to bring excitement blazing down your spine and back to your drenched cunt

Hoodie’s mouth quirks into a wolfish grin

“You can take it, can’t you, Princess?”

He tugs himself free and you nod, swallowing thickly through your breathless pants

Masky’s length brushes against the flesh of your backside, and he graciously drags it between your legs to coat himself in your slick before pressing at your entrance

A choked moan catches in your throat, stealing your breath as he tilts you up, thick head of his cock pushing at into your ass before he’s slowly sheathing himself inch by inch into your tight, welcoming heat

Hoodie pumps his member, watching the scene unfold in front of him as you’re stretched open on his best friend

“God, she takes cock so well, doesn’t she?~”

He wraps his hands around your thighs, pushing your legs apart and lifting you up like you weigh nothing

You instinctively wrap your legs around him

Despite the amount of times they’ve used you like this, you still can’t get over the feeling of being so full as he slips into your fluttering entrance, bottoming out all in one thrust

“How are you always so fucking tight~” Masky hisses through gritted teeth

His voice has you clenching around the both of them, making them groan in near unison as you tighten up even more

You’re lifted and brought back down on both their stiff cocks slowly at first, though it’s more than enough to have you dropping your head back with a shaky moan because it feel so good

Teeth graze your neck, scraping against your pulse while they bounce you up and down between them, their pace steadily growing with every push into your squelching cunt

“Fuck!~ D-don't stop!~” you moan, your toes curling and back arching up, sending them both deeper into your slick walls

Masky cusses, his grip bruising as he starts getting faster, needing so much more of your velvety walls gripping him tightly

Dropping you down and thrusting up, fucking you in synchronization doesn’t last long before they can’t hold back anymore

They screw into you so wonderfully, moving at different speeds and being as rough and mind-numbingly brutal as they like

They have you moaning and whimpering like a slut, and you don’t even have it in you to care anymore

“That—that fucking feel nice, baby? You like getting dicked down by two cocks at once? Hm?”

“Yes—yes, fuck, i-it feels s-so fucking good!~”

A slew of pleas and begs fall from your mouth, your second orgasm already starting to peak, your body feeling raw and overused but singing for more as you grow so, so close

“Gonna cum again, doll? You getting close, little Princess?”

“Y-yes—fuck, please!”

A hand, you’re not too sure who’s, moves to your front to jerk at your clit again and everything inside you tenses all too familiarly

“Cum, baby. Be a good girl and cum for us, sunshine~”

The groaned encouragements are all you need to be sent toppling into another orgasm

Your body reels from the intensity, shaking and twitching between them like before, except it’s so much more intense than last time

They don’t stop fucking into you until the most you can do is scream, clawing at their lithe skin as they keep using you to their own ends

Masky groans into your neck, the sound downright sinful as he spills the entirety of his load into you

Hoodie’s quick to follow with a quiet moan, pumping his seed deeper into you with sloppy thrusts until they’re both eventually stilling inside you, panting into your necks

You feel so full

You can feel their cum leaking out of you through their pulsing lengths

You’re numb and sore by the time they ease out of you, gently setting you down, but still keeping a hold around you so you don’t lose balance

Hoodie dips a finger between your legs, gathering up the cum that’s dripped from your entrance, and brings it to your lips

You wrap your mouth around his digits like second nature, swirling your tongue around them as he chuckles

“Good girl~”

Masky rubs over the marks on your ass, almost like an apology, or maybe an appreciation of his work

Hoodie pulls his fingers free and cups your jaw

His lips are soft and gentle as they brush against yours, wordlessly checking if you’re alright

There‘s never anything romantic about your late night rendezvous with the proxies

No strings attached; just the way you like it, you silently remind yourself as your lips buzz against the comforting warmth of his mouth

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 2

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: Slight description of Animal Violence. Nothing too graphic, but if the genre of stuff you see on Shark week isn’t for you, skip over the part denoted by the *******

Word Count: 3530 words

Summary: You learn more about Cruz and about yourself

Prologue

Chapter 1

“-and then he just leaves. What do I even do with that?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Your roommate hums, refilling up your glass of wine. “And you don’t have his number, so you can’t call or text him right?” You take a large sip, nodding and trying not to spill wine on your pajamas.

Well, kind of.

You hadn’t told anyone about Cruz, not even your family, because frankly you didn't know where to start. But when you walked into the apartment, sullen and dragging your feet, your roommate, Caitlyn, had offered wine, ice cream, and a willing ear. That's when the floodgates opened (with some modified details, of course).

“We’re meeting at our usual place in a couple days, I just…”Another sip of wine,”...hate sitting here, not knowing what he’s feeling, what I did, how I’m feeling.” You set down your glass and throw yourself back against the couch, sinking into the cushions. “I feel so stupid, like a fucking teenager, and I hate it.” Caitlyn sets her own wine glass down and nudges the half-empty ice cream carton towards you.

“It’s for the best your feeling all this now, then you can come at ‘im all composed and articulate. Really throw him off his game.” You grab a spoon and the carton, Caitlyn patting your shoulder as you take a pathetic bite.

“You’re right but I-I don’t even know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Sounds like this guy’s got you hooked. At least that’s a start right?” Caitlyn hums, pressing her chin into her palm. “To be completely honest, Sam took a couple days to warm up to me. And I never told her this, but she gave me hardcore pretentious vibes on our first date.”

Caitlyn gives a long spiel about her awkward first soulmate date (“Seriously, who brings up ‘the superiority of vinyl’ on the first date!”), and if you were in the mind to be a good roommate, or hadn’t heard this story before, you might’ve listened closer. But only one question was occupying your thoughts; Did Cruz like you?

--------

You arrive at the boardwalk an hour early. You don’t immediately go to the tidepool, instead choosing to take a long walk on the beach, taking a moment to calm your racing heart and collect your thoughts.

You like Cruz. You like him as much as two people who just met can, despite a less-than-romantic first impression. But does he like you?

You never thought you would have to ask your soulmate that.

There’s a small thwap as you slap your cheeks, heat simmering your skin even as the cold water laps at your feet.

This is ridiculous. You’ve talked twice. Caitlyn and Sam have a thriving relationship (You should know, you share a wall with Caitlyn) and even they got off to a rocky start.

The pit grows in your stomach, thinking of Cruz’s disinterested stare as he swims into the open ocean. The weight of it almost sinks to your toes.

You shake your head, slapping your cheeks once more.

Today is a new day. Just go through the motions _____.

You reach the tidepool, setting down your picnic blanket and bag. You grab one of your notebooks and prop it open as you bite into an apple. You’re 30 minutes early, might as well get some reading done.

The waves crash and pull against the rocks, pleasant studying ambience, but is interrupted by several clicks and abrupt, out of rhythm, splashes. You look up, immediately in awe of the sight.

About 50 feet away from the entrance to the tidepool is a pod of dolphins, breaching out of the water. You grab a pencil, your phone, and your notebook, tiptoeing through the tidepool to get a better look.

Good choice wearing water shoes today.

From closer up, you notice the distinct lack of dorsal fins and realize they must be Northern White Whale Dolphins. 60 of them have congregated in a group, most likely scouting for easy food or taking a rest.

Their pod is pretty small though. What are they doing so close to the shore?

The pod continues to play as you take shaky photos with your camera, trying to balance your notebook and pencil in the crook of your elbow. Through your viewfinder, you spot a familiar shape, not 30 feet from the pod, peeking his head out of the water. Cruz’s black eyes narrow into focus before he fully submerges. Your eyes widen as you lower your camera.

The water above Cruz rushes as he swims closer and closer to the pod. You tuck your phone back into your pocket as you finagle your way up to a nearby rock. You need a better view, and it might be best to be out of the water while this happens.

The dolphins haven’t noticed Cruz yet, still gliding along the waves. There's a quick flash of his strong back before he dives even deeper into the water. The rock slightly digs into your stomach as you lean over to get a better look.

What I wouldn’t give for a drone right now.

Before long, there is a burst of clicks, the largest dolphins quickly surrounding the group and issuing them away. They’ve spotted Cruz, but one is a little too slow.

Cruz’s dorsal fin cuts through the water, close enough to the surface that you can make out the details of his determined face. His eyes have latched onto the slowest dolphin and his speed increases exponentially. His long tail flicks back and forth as he gains on it.

*******

The dolphin flips into the air, trying to gain distance. But like a flash Cruz’s large hand shoots out of the water, getting a hold of the dolphin’s tail, and pulls. You see his shoulder and tricep bulge as the dolphin thrashes in his grip. His head once again breaches the water as he digs his other clawed hand into the dolphin’s side, raking into it as he pulls the dolphin closer to him. The two tussle and wrestle against each other, going in and out of the water as the dolphin tries to push Cruz away.

But Cruz is limber, keeping a tight grip on the dolphin as he maneuvers his body alongside it. His torso raises up as he pushes the dolphin down under the water and into submission. Cruz then yanks the dolphin’s front upwards and out of the water, grip still tight on it’s rear, before opening up his maw and tearing into the dolphin’s neck. He rips his head back and forth until the dolphin stills, a large pool of red slowly cascading around them.

*******

Your pencil hangs loosely in your fingers as you watch, eyes locked on Cruz. You think the struggle must’ve lasted only 20 seconds, but in the moment, it felt like hours. Cruz’s chest heaves as he takes another bite, serrated teeth easily ripping the flesh, as casual as the lobster roll from your last meeting.

Blood drips from his mouth and covers his claws. His cards his fingers back through his hair, leaving crimson streaks that shine against his black locks. Cruz bites off another mouthful before heaving the dolphin onto his shoulder.

As a large science nerd, you’ve always enjoyed watching nature in progress. But a new, exciting, vaguely uncomfortable feeling stirs in your gut as you watch Cruz suck in his fingers, picking out stray bits of meat from his large, sharp teeth. A feeling like a shiver rushing down your spine and heat in between your legs.

Oh my god. Why was that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?

Cruz turns away and submerges himself, giving you a nice shot of his defined back muscles as he sums up his hunt. You can’t take your eyes off his form moving just below the water, even as your 5 PM alarm goes off.

You knew Cruz was larger, and far stronger, than you, but seeing him in his element reminds you just how easily he could tear you apart.

God, and I kind of want him to.

As he swims further away from the shore, you see two black dots in the distance. You take out your phone again and open up the camera to zoom in.

Speaking of huge. Holy shit.

The focus is a little blurry, but it’d be hard for you to miss the massive mermaids. With only their shoulders and up out of water, they still tower over Cruz by at least a head each. Both have long black hair, intertwined with what looks to be seaweed and various types of shells. The one on the right is holding two larger masses over her shoulders, positioned the way a lumberjack would hold a fallen tree. Cruz reemerges with his dolphin in tow, frighteningly small.

Cruz’s gestures indicate they’re having a conversation, mostly one-sided. The dolphin on Cruz’s back bounces as he talks animatedly, his hunt small when compared to the two weights the right mermaid carries. With your old phone you can only catch a glimpse of the left mermaid’s lips moving. Cruz’s energy dims as she continues and he seems to sink deeper into the water.

The left mermaid holds out her hand. Cruz hesitates, then throws his dolphin into her arms. She swings it over like it weighs nothing and then shakes her hand as if to shoo him away. The right one rumbles with laughter. Cruz nods, solemn as the two submerge and swim away.

Cruz stays there for a minute, looking out at the horizon. When he finally turns, his movements are lethargic as he swims towards the tidepool.

You scramble down from the rock and quickly tiptoe  back to your blanket, fumbling to stuff your notebook and pencil back into your bag.

Cruz glides in, his eyes not meeting yours, locked in thought.

“Hey Cruz.” You wave, struggling to catch your breath from your impromptu rush.

Cruz slowly looks up at you, still slightly downcast.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” You  shake your head furiously.

“It’s no problem! I got her kind of early, and then I saw you hunting and didn’t want to bother.” Cruz’s eyes widen a bit, before her recoils into himself and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry. You probably didn’t want to see that….” You once again shake your hands and head back and forth.

“No! No I-, I actually thought it was super cool!” Cruz quirks his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Yeah! It was like my own personal Shark week. Like wow, you looked amazing out there.”

Cruz’s cheek tint a cerulean blue, the corners of his lips turning up at the sides as he fiddles with his fingers.

“And those dolphins are the fastest kind around here, but bam! You were on them like a firecracker, kind of wish I had a slow motion camera.” You laugh, before realizing Cruz probably didn’t understand half of your analogies. “You looked uh, you were really good at it.”

Well duh, you idiot. He’s a shark.

“Thank you.” Cruz shoots you a tiny smile, blush still running across his face and down his neck. The ensuing silence is only slightly uncomfortable, as Cruz’s blush stays strong and you're sure you develop one of your own. You try and focus on something else to calm down, but catch a glimpse of his biceps, and fail miserably.

“Oh, that’s right.” Cruz reaches over and sticks his hand in between two nearby rocks. His brow furrows before his eyes light up, and he pulls out a….handbag?

It’s loosely sewn together with kelp, made of some sort of seal skin and closed with a seashell button. Cruz pops it open and begins to rummage inside.

“Gotcha.” Cruz pulls something out of the bag, before turning and hiding it behind his back.

“Uh, whatcha got there?” Cruz smiles, his blue blush painting his face from top to tip.

“I found this thing and thought you um….might want to look at it?” Cruz pulls his arm in front, revealing a reflective white shell, just a bit longer than his palm.

“It’s not a crab, but I thought it was neat looking so….”

You slowly move towards him, gesturing to ask if you can hold the shell. Cruz nods, almost shoving it into your hand.

The color is completely white, sharp, almost polished-looking. It carves into several rings before sloping into a point. It’s empty, the inside free of any sand or tiny algae.

“Do you know what it’s called?”

You look back to Cruz and nearly brush your nose against his. You realize how hot his body heat is as he leans over you to look at the shell. Your shoulders just barely touch.

As if dipped into boiling water, your face alights into red and your body convulses to jerk away from the heat.

“Yeah-Yes! Actually I do, it’s-it looks like a Kellets W-Welk. Well, the remains of one’s shell anyway.”

Cruz stays close, letting out a small “Ohhh.” as he squints his eyes to get a closer look. It’s the most on-land you’ve seen him, with the water lapping at the base of his tail. Sitting down, your head only comes to his clavicle. The uncomfortable burning stirs in your gut.

“Is it a hermit crab?”

“Not, it’s a sea snail. They're not really on land like crabs.” You brush your thumbs over the shell’s ridges. “There are quite a few varieties of sea snails around here, lots of beautiful shells. Their babies look pretty cool too.”

Cruz nods, eyes intent, and it reminds you of the elementary kids you saw when working at the aquarium. Your heart skips as you futilely try to fight the smile on your face.

“Can you eat ‘em?”

You chuckle and Cruz’s face grows a darker shade of blue. “Yeah, you can. You’ve got a good eye for snacks huh?”

Cruz pouts playfully, blue still awash on his cheeks. “Maybe, but I’m not always thinking about food.” Just as he finishes, you hear his stomach rumble. You stifle your laugh with your hand and Cruz grabs his stomach angrily. “Sh-Shut up! It’s almost dinner!”

The two mermaids flash in your mind. You see Cruz handing over the dolphin as they swim away. Then you see Cruz, furiously cracking open crabs with a single-minded purpose. The smile drops from your chin.

How often does that happen?

Cruz was small for a Great White. You hadn’t even thought about why. You don’t even know if you want to.

“They’re pretty tasty, but their shells are a lot more fun.” Cruz furrows his brow again. “Here, let me show you.” You scoot yourself closer to him, putting the white shell against his ear. His eyes widen and he leans backwards a bit from your closeness, but the shell still lingers by his ear. “Do you hear it?”

Cruz stills, furrowing his brows even deeper, but then they rise in surprise. He leans back towards you, tentatively grabbing your wrist and pulling the shell closer.

“Its-”

“The ocean.”

The same childlike wonder from before flushes on his face as he looks at you, bringing your stomach a flutter. Cruz presses his head down closer to the shell, the bottom of his cheek now touching your palm. Cruz’s skin is cool against yours, slightly damp, and you feel the hint of roughness as his chin brushes against your wrist.

“How-How did you-”

“My mom showed me once. I mean, technically it’s the echo of the blood coursing through your ear, which reverberates and sounds like waves crashing. But it’s still a neat trick.”

“Oh, I see….”

From this close, you can see the small freckles which dapple Cruz’s cheeks, peppering across the bridge of his nose and up onto his forehead. Specks of dark blue, black, and green contrasts against his light gray skin, like the setting sun catching the pulling tides.

In the moment, you long to touch them.

So you do.

It’s so….soft.

As your thumb brushes up his jaw, the mottled colors are overwhelmed and overshadowed by Cruz’s furious blush. Cruz moves away so quickly that he unfurls his grip on a nearby rock and loses his balance. He braces himself and hisses as his thin skin nicks the corner of a rock.

“Oh my god, I’m so-so sorry! I just- oh my goodness are you okay?” You retract the shell closer to your chest, your other hand outstretched to steady Cruz. When he flinches away, you pull it back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space like that.”

Cruz's chest heaves but he doesn’t move or say anything. From the corner of your eye you spot a tiny bit of blood leaking onto the rock.

“Oh shit, wait I-I should have something.” You whip around to your backpack, shuffling and pushing aside your notebook to find your emergency first aid kit. Water wells in the corner of your eyes as you frantically search. You desperately try to will the tears away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid-

Your inner insults are interrupted when your fingers brush against the familiar plastic fabric pouch. Before turning back to Cruz, you hastily wipe your eyes.

“Here, this should help.” You hold out the small thing of gauze and an antiseptic wipe. Cruz slowly takes them, fiddling with the gauze until it's undone. He picks up the antiseptic package with the tips of his forefinger and thumb, eyes squinting as he tries to read the small text.

“That’s to clean the wound with, to get the gross stuff out.” Cruz’s eyes narrow even further, brushing his thumb over the paper wrapping. Tentatively, he plops the unwrapped wipe on his wound. He looks back, clearly confused. “You have to unwrap it first, then wipe it.” His blush returns as he jerks his eyes away from you, embarrassed with you watching.

“I could do-”

“I’ve got it.” Cruz snaps, finding the perforation and ripping it off quickly.

“Okay, but it’s gonna sting-”

“Ow, shit!” Cruz curses as he presses the wipe against the apex of his cut, whining and biting his lower lip.

“If it’s hurting that means it’s working.” Cruz nods, but he hastily wipes the wound and sighs as he crumples it up.Cruz wraps his cut with medical precision, reminding you of boxers right before a match. He cuts the gauze short with a snip of his teeth

“Wow, you're really good at that.” Cruz snorts.

“I don’t need any jackasses going into a frenzy anytime soon. That would be the perfect end to this shit day.”

Your heart freezes as your stomach drops, and you recoil into yourself. The nausea of guilt washes over you. And then that makes you feel even worse, and so the cycle continues.

Cruz notices your sheepish, downtrodden stare, and frantically waves his good hand.

“Wait, shit, no, thats-thats not what I meant. Uh…” He loses track of his sentence, mouth agape as he looks for words. “I mean….thank you.” He fiddles with his claws. “For the bandage, a-and the food a couple days ago. This is...nice.”

You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly his praise perks you up, rolling over your tense muscles like a masseuse.

“Thank you for the shell, it was very thoughtful of you.” Cruz sputters.

“I just passed by it on a swim, it wasn’t a big deal. The reefs got a ton of them, so, y’know.”

You don’t know, but it’s cute watching him fumble with his words. He’s so bashful for an apex predator you saw kill a dolphin not 20 minutes ago.

“I could even-well, it’s close that we- we could go sometime? You and me?” Cruz fiddles with his claws once more, and you wonder if it’s a nervous compulsion. “It’s a little ways away from the coast but with me carrying you, we could probably see a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Cruz’s nervous smile is much more lopsided than his regular one. It accentuates the dimple on his left cheek.

“I would love that.”

-----------

You decide to meet up early on Saturday to get a head start on the sunlight. You leave the boardwalk giddy, your nerves tingling pleasantly with pre-plan jitters. All this energy means you might have to spill to Caitlyn once more, just to let it all out. You’ll most likely tell her you two are getting breakfast by the beach, maybe stop by an aquarium.

Looking at all the coral and the crustaceans. Just me, in Cruz’s arms-

You stop, your nerves bubbling up under your skin, like steam is blowing out of your ears as you think about what is in store for Saturday.

You’re still not sure how Cruz feels about you. But there isn’t a show of a doubt now; You have a crush on him.

----------

Cruz sits in the water, cracking open a leftover oyster he had left in his bag for emergencies. Emergencies like being so flustered he can't possibly go back to the pod, not without looking incredibly suspicious.

He brushes his thumb over his cheek, and it’s almost like you're there again.

So….soft.

[lovestrucked-again]

I read ur breeding kink with Jaehyun and I just woke up in a sweaty heated mess from the dream it left me with. Like uk how Jae is so in love with children? omg just him desperate to have a child and constantly fucking and i-

a/n: so i saw this AGES ago in my inbox but i didnt answer it because i had this idea and only finally just put it down (sorry). *clinks a glass* TO JAEHYUN AND A GODDAMN BREEDING KINK.

warning: lots of fucking, lots of overstim, breeding kink, 2k

Okay so everyone knows Jaehyun has a soft spot for children and to him, the thought of having his own kids one day is such a dream. He can’t help but vividly picture you, walking around with a hand on your stomach, carrying his child looking so glowy and pretty.

He’s probably mentioned it earlier on in your relationship, believing that you’re ‘the one’ for him; the one who makes him truly happy and want to be better as a person. He promised to care for you, to watch you advance in your own personal goals and to cheer you on from the side lines.

After being together for a few years, the talk of having your own child would come up almost every night while you lay cuddling in bed, “Do you think about it?” he asks, his voice in a cautious whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Having a child with me.”

“Of course I do Jae. I want to… just not right now.” you tell him, not wanting to bring a child into your lives in the midst of your busy individual schedules. You wanted to offer your child all your attention not anything half-assed.

“But one day right? You’ll give me a baby?” he murmurs in the darkness of the room.

“Definitely one day.” You mumble back, your lips forming into a soft smile against his chest.

A couple of months later and the two of you had made it back to your apartment after a long night out on your 4-year anniversary. That night when you made it to your front door, Jaehyun could no longer keep his hands off of you. Kissing you all over your face and neck, as he grips onto your waist, pulling you into him; digging his fingers into your skin. “Fucking beautiful and fucking mine, aren’t you?” He whispers, watching the way you squirm underneath him tangling within the sheets and almost sliding off the bed. He pushes himself into you, filling you with his incredible hardness as you groan, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him tightly into you. Your hips snap up to meet his, moving up and down on his cock, sending pangs of pleasure through your feverish body. “Can’t wait to see your tummy grow.”

He doesn't mean to say it, not wanting to pressure you into anything but the words slip off his tongue as he struggles to stay sane feeling your walls wrap tightly around him. All your gasps and soft whimpers echo in his ear and the sound of his cock wetly plopping out of your hole continue to drive him further into his fantasy. “Fuck baby, tell me to stop.” He chokes out, his teeth clenched and gritting against each other as he scrambles to get the words out.

“W-What, why?” You don’t want for him to stop and you’re confused at his sudden halt.

“If you don’t,” he grunts loudly, his hips snapping forward into yours, “I’m afraid I might put a baby in you.”

He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against your shoulder, his breath heavy as he attempts to restrain himself. You let out a quiet gasp, involuntarily clenching around him and he draws in a sharp breath. He tries to slow himself down, thrusting into at a lazy pace to prevent himself from coming inside; but not completely – as it would’ve felt like pure torture for him.  

You bring your fingers up to his soft curls, tugging at them gently to bring his gaze up. Jaehyun whimpers softly but he looks at you, his vision hazy as he tries to focus only on your face and not at the feeling of your walls surrounding him.

“I want you.” You whisper, watching his brows furrow in confusion.

“What?” he asks, unable to comprehend your words.

“I want a baby with you.” You repeat.

Jaehyun nods, his nervous expression from before turning into a devilish smile. That was his breaking point.

***

It all happens rather quickly, Jaehyun being very impatient after learning you were also ready for the next step. The pills are the first thing to go; letting your body take his sperm and work it out naturally. He takes all the little opportunities of free time he has to make sure your filled with him.

On late nights when he’d come home after practice at ungodly hours, you’d be woken up by him in bed, his soft kisses planted around your body causing you to stir from your sleep. On mornings where he had more time to stay at home, you’d both be in the shower; your front pressed against the cold tiles as he drives himself into you.

He’d take you anywhere and anytime he could, desperate to finally have a child with you.

On a particular afternoon, Haechan and Mark had come around, sitting outside on the balcony of your shared apartment. You could see them through the glass screen, separating the balcony and the indoors as you focused on the cleaning the dishes in the sink. Jaehyun took you right there and then. You felt his erection poking at the back of your ass, “Jaehyun, we have friends over,” you warned him.

Instead, his hands ran over your stomach and down your pants as you groaned quietly, cursing yourself for not bothering with panties because of your slack sweatpants. “We can be quick.”

Without wasting time, he had placed the head of his cock at your pussy, rubbing it back and forth a few times between your wet slit before he eased into you. It slides in easily, and in one smooth motion he buries himself to your hilt. Your hands reach for the counter, struggling to keep balance as your ass moves back to meet him. His hands find your hips, moving a little faster, thrusting a little deeper. You kept your focus on the boys outside, watching them laugh and talk to each other, oblivious to the scene unfolding behind them. You took a hand off the counter, reaching down for your clit, desperate to relieve yourself quickly. Without any time lost, your legs buckle and you cum, spraying the floor as Jaehyun shoots his load deep into you.

The two of you stood there, his cock softening as you caught your breath. Jaehyun’s first to notice Mark getting up from his seat, quickly pulling out of your pussy and drawing a long string of cum out. He swiftly pulls his pants up and you do as well, leaving immediately when you see the grey fabric beginning to stain dark by the mess flowing out of your pussy. Jaehyun ducks down with a paper towel, forced to quickly clean the mess on the floor as Mark walks in.

***

Again and again he would beat into you, the slick sound of his cock pumping in and out of your wet pussy loud in your ears, along with the frantic creak of the bedsprings, the banging of the headboard against the wall. “Going to make you full of me princess.” He hums, his body going suddenly stiff, ramming you deep as you scream feeling his fingers claw into your breasts. Your pussy feels crammed with cock, and you can feel him throb hard, shooting his semen into you. You cry out with him, and then shortly after cum too, thrusting your hips up at him in a spasm of release as his seed pours into you. You arch your back clawing at the bedspread as you tremble beneath him, the blood roaring in your ears.

It’s not even minutes later before he flips you over, “one more time baby,” he whispers dragging your body closer to his to align himself again and drive forward.

A few days later and Jaehyun had bought home a pregnancy test, bouncing around excitedly as he waited for you to check. Both of you were sure that night had done it, but as they say, things never go as easy as you want. You sit back against the tiles as you think of how to tell him, it’s negative. Jaehyun doesn't take it well, dashing back to the store for another test, believing the first one was just a mistake. When you test it again you can only sigh, “Jae it’s not broken, it’s negative.”

He tries his best to keep hide his disappointment, taking it as a challenge instead. “We just have to try harder.” He grins, picking you up from the bathroom floor and taking you back to the bedroom instead.

He eases into you slower, knowing your still sensitive from the relentless fucking over the previous few days. “Just have to try again.” He murmurs, more to reassure himself as you nod. You hum quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you whimper and fight against the burning in your thighs stretched widely against the sheet.

Jaehyun goes gently at first, choosing to drive himself further into your hilt rather than going in quickly. He’s thrusts are thorough, moving in long strokes against your walls tightly. You can hear him grit his teeth as he urges his self-control, struggling to adapt to a slower pace. He drops onto his elbows, his face centremetres away from yours as you feel his heavy pants at your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you comfort him running a hand against his back, “it’s okay.”

His hips move a little faster as he grunts louder, his body moving forward with each thrust as you squeeze around him, “Take it all princess, all of it.” He whispers, pushing into your hilt as he feels himself shoot.

You’ve never seen him so desperate, it scares you a little but it also makes you feel a little nervous, worried how his mentally doing. He doesn't like to share much about how he feels, afraid to scare you. You try to shift under him, his arms trapping your head from turning and his body pushing closely into yours, “J-Jaehyun?” you whimper.

He lifts his head at your call, moving again to push himself deeper into you, letting his remains leak inside and mix with your juices.

“M-making sure.” He grunts, pushing your shoulders down as he moves his body up towards the bedframe “just in case.”

He doesn't stop after that; taking only a quick break preparing himself for another round. You squeal at the sudden loss of his cock inside before he begins pounding back into you suddenly, your nails digging into his skin as you hold onto him. Your body trembles underneath him from the intensity and you moan as you feel him shoot into you again.

“Stay still.” He coos, stopping you from moving away. It feels like your pussy is flooding, your walls struggling to clench weakly around him.

You watch as he adjusts the pillow underneath your head, planting soft kisses over your face and neck. His cock twitches inside you with every movement and you jerk everytime, “Stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, wanting to make sure he had done everything possible.

“You’ll get tired like that.” You pout, worried his arms wouldn't be able to hold his weight for a long period of time.

“I can take it.” He whispers, leaning his cheek against your shoulder as he shifts to keep his weight off you.

Your eyes begin to droop and you can feel his heavy breaths calm down against your neck. With a hand on his back, you use your free hand to stroke his hair, his exhales becoming softer and softer as time passes.

Jaehyun lays quietly in your embrace, his cock softening inside you. “I think we did it,” he whispers, his voice low and only barely audible. You feel his words vibrate against your body and with your eyes closed you give a soft nod in agreement.

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 36

chapter list / previous / next

“So what is it you call them again?” Talltail’s eyes narrowed skeptically.

“They’re called cars, so I’ve been told.” Jake replied. 

They were crouched a fox-length away from a bright red shiny monster sitting quietly in front of a twoleg den.

“Is it dead?” Talltail asked, instinctively keeping his voice quiet as if he half expected the thing to roar to life any moment.

“I don’t even think they’re alive. At least, it certainly doesn’t smell alive. All I know is when housefolk gets inside one, they start moving”

“Hm.” Talltail kicked a small pebble at it. Nothing. Jake was right about that, they certainly didn’t smell like any living thing. “And what about the lights in their eyes? It’s not fire, but there are lights like that all over the twoleg places.”

“I dunno, housefolk are just good at making light that isn’t hot I guess. Between us, I think their eyesight in the dark is awful.”

“So you don’t even know how twolegs make the things they do?”

“Not really,” Jake shrugged. “But do you understand exactly how plants grow or how birds can fly?”

“Well...no, they just do. I suppose...you sort of have a point.” Talltail admitted. “But I still don’t trust these things. They sound like monsters to me. Let’s keep going, I don’t like looking at it’s eyes, even if they aren’t alive.”

They walked through gardens, keeping to the grass and sparse trees alongside the hard stone Thunderpaths and trails. As the dusky sky turned to a pale gray dawn, they saw twolegs every so often, and many of them paused to look at the two cats walking side by side. Talltail didn’t like going past them, but after narrowly escaping another aggressive group of strays, and a lost dog, Jake eventually convinced Talltail that twolegs were the lesser of the two evils. So, daylight travel it was.

“Just don’t make eye contact,” Jake said. “They’re slow, so even if they want to pet us, we can just run and they’ll give up.”

“They just try petting every animal that walks by!?” Talltail hissed.

“Well some of them, if they can.”

Talltail snorted. The absolute arrogance of assuming that because a couple cats liked them, that meant every cat wanted to be their friend. I don’t try to groom every cat I walk by because that would be weird, Talltail thought with an irritated twitch of his tail. But he was quickly finding most twolegs weren’t necessarily the ruthless predators he’d imagined them to be in his youth. They were, however, incredibly annoying.

But on the brighter side, he’d found that he really had started to get used to the sounds of the town, even though it was still overwhelming. They had to duck behind a house every now and again when a particularly loud string of monsters passed.

“We’re almost there,” Jake assured him. “I’m...mostly sure of it. When we were on the roof, I got a better idea of where we were. The alley cats chased us in the wrong direction, but we should be able to get there without crossing anyone's territory.”

After only a couple more turns down the stone path, Jake raised his tail. “Ah! There it is!” he exclaimed. “See those tall trees up ahead? I’m sure that’s where the park is.”

“Is this ‘park’ actually...safe?” Talltail asked as they grew closer. In the distance, he knew the pines that bordered ShadowClan’s territory were close. There was a ring of twoleg dens blocking it, but such a forested area would surely house prey to some cat.

“Well, twolegs walk through it with their dogs, but they have them on leashes. Don’t worry, I know not all dogs are like Dusty. I won’t make you get slobbered by any more of them,” Jake added quickly when he saw Talltail’s alarm.

“I appreciate that,” Talltail said with a shudder.

The park was a large area with sparse patches of woods and bushes surrounded by large grassy fields. Not the fields Talltail was used to, but very short soft grass that would be impossible to hide in, and most of it stank of stale dog scent. Talltail thought he would be able to relax once they’d reached a more natural familiar area, but even this place felt very...off compared to the woodland and fields he knew. Like the plants and trees were all too...neat.

“Well, it’s still better than the town,” Talltail sighed. “But where to start looking…”

“What exactly are you planning on doing when you find them?” Jake asked with a sideways glance.

“Uh...” Talltail paused. He hadn’t been thinking of it in detail, he’d just been repeatedly telling himself that he’d figure it out when he got there. “I’ll... figure it out when I get there?” he said.

“You don’t want to fight all of them do you?” Jake’s eyes were round with concern.

“No, of course not.” Talltail for the first time felt a stab of guilt for the visitors when he thought of Mole, Reena, and her parents. They had been so kind. Reena had even been his friend for a while. They wouldn’t think so kindly of him after this, but their feelings couldn’t be at the front of his mind. They were protecting a bad cat. Sparrow didn’t even care about the others as much as Hen, he’d practically said so himself. If Talltail could just get Sparrow away from the others somehow, they wouldn’t have to get involved at all.

While he was thinking, Jake had gotten distracted and was looking up at a massive oak tree with long hanging branches splaying out. He had an eager light in his eyes, like a kit hunting a drifting feather.

“We could…get higher? Maybe if we got high up we could see if there are any cats around, or even the pond we’re looking for. I bet you could see the whole area from up there, and the branches are low enough to jump to.”

Talltail looked doubtfully up at the tree. WindClan had keener eyes than most cats, but his nose was still better for searching. Maybe Jake had other motives.

But It’s not as if we’re running out of time. If they’ve hung around for this long, they’ll hang around longer… Talltail thought. He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Jake looked back at him, “You don’t think it’s too dangerous?”

“Well...maybe it’s risky, but less dangerous than what we’ve already done. It’s not as if I’ll let you fall.”

Jake’s plumy red tail flicked high, his vibrant eyes glowing with a mischievous excitement. “Bet I can get up it faster."

With that, he crouched and leapt, hooking his claws into the lowest branch and hoisting himself all the way up with an agility Talltail hadn’t expected from such a stocky cat. Talltail bunched his muscles and jumped up after him, and his paws touched the branch without requiring him to scramble the rest of the way. Keeping his momentum, he jumped again to the next nearest branch up.

He got so caught up in the challenge, Talltail was almost on the fourth branch before he remembered he’d never actually climbed a tall tree in his entire life. He made the mistake of looking down, and the ground below felt dizzyingly far, even though it didn’t feel like he’d gone very high.

“What’s wrong? I’ll be napping at the top before you get there!” Jake called. Great StarClan, how had he gotten three branches above him? 

Talltail looked up. “You know uh...there’s not really many trees like this on the moor.”

“Then this’ll be good practice! Every cat should know how to climb trees!”

“What am I, ThunderClan?” Talltail grumbled. Staring up while newly aware of the drop below him, he felt significantly less confident with his leaps. “Er, Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you get up there exactly?”

“Climbed.”

“Alright, yes, but be more specific.”

“You’re half way up! How did you get to where you are?” the ginger tom flashed him a cheeky grin.

“Dumb luck? I don’t trust my paws! Can’t you tell me where you put yours?”

“Well, I trust your paws, and you should too! Just keep your eyes on where you want to be.”

Swallowing his doubt, Talltail balanced himself with his tail and found it a reliable weight as ever as he leapt. Jake stopped past the halfway point up the massive tree. The branches were separated enough that they could see the whole area around them, but too thin to climb further. For a moment Talltail could almost pretend he wasn’t surrounded on all sides by twolegs with their bizarre dens and contraptions. The call of alarmed birds disturbed from their perching was a welcome sound blocking out the distant rumble of crossing Thunderpaths. He had learned his lesson about looking down and carefully lay himself on the branch to catch his breath. 

Jake lay across from him, and looked thoughtfully at Talltail’s paws. “Huh,” he said, “I didn’t expect you to have duller claws than me.” He flexed his small needle sharp claws and scraped them on the branch. 

“They’re not as sharp, but they're a lot sturdier.” Talltail flexed a paw. “And those wounds are harder to close,” he added with a wink.

But it was true his claws didn’t hook into the bark as deep as he would like. He usually only needed them to grip soft earth while running, or digging.

“How high up do you think a cat can jump from without getting hurt?” Jake asked abruptly, gazing below at the dizzying drop with an amused twitch of his whiskers. He looked like he was enjoying himself somehow.

Talltail glared at him. “Do not ask me that right now.”

Jake snorted with laughter which petered into a quiet purr of contentment as the sun dripped through the branches and danced over his fur. He really did have the brightest orange pelt Talltail had ever seen. The sun caught the ginger and it glowed like the warm fire Jake’s twoleg kept in their home, the vivid stripes swirling along his tufted flanks broken up where the fur was longest. Talltail had never spent so much time trying to memorize all the details of a cat's face. It was odd, the little leap of happiness he felt fluttering around in his heart. Sometimes he caught his breath and it skipped in a way he couldn’t recall ever feeling before when looking at a cat. That’s...weird. Am I getting sick?

He scarcely realized he was staring when he noticed Jake was also looking intently at his face as well. 

Talltail blinked at him. “What is it?”

Jake stretched out and touched his nose to Talltail’s cheek. “Thanks for humoring me. I’m glad you’ve let me come with you this long,” he purred.

“I wouldn’t say I’m humoring you, I wouldn’t even have gotten here without you,” Talltail replied. His ears twitched as he tried to hide the fur prickling on the nape of his neck and the warm blush rushing under his pelt from the unexpected touch. What in StarClan is wrong with me? I think the height is making me light headed.

“I mean with this climb,” Jake laughed. “My friends would have said it was fluff-brained or dangerous and told me to stop messing around. Not that I blame them, we are really high up.”

“Don’t remind me,” Talltail gulped. “I just want to enjoy the view and pretend the ground is nearby. Don’t you have friends who do this with you?”

“They’ll come on long walks with me. I like Quince and Nutmeg, but they don’t always understand me. Sometimes I just feel...this pull to do something different, like in my gut, and I have to do it. Like I see a faraway place from my roof and I think ‘what does everything look like from there?’ And I so desperately want to go there and see.”

Talltail nodded, his whiskers twitching in amusement. It was similar to that excitable longing to dash to the horizon he felt when he was young. It had been a long time since he’d dwelled on it.

Jake continued, “I can’t live my whole life every day eating, sleeping, grooming, even though I like it. I feel like...there’s something else out there, and I’ll be restless until I find out what it is. That’s why I was so glad to meet you again... I love my friends and neighbors, well-- most of them, Tyr can get stuffed. But sometimes I worry I’m annoying them with my fancies.”

Talltail blinked at Jake in surprise. “I can’t imagine any cat finding you annoying.”

Jake snorted. “Oh Talltail, you haven’t been around me long enough! Driving cats up the walls is a talent of mine.”

“Well you’ve certainly driven me up a tree, so there’s that. No other cat would be able to do that.” Talltail rested his chin on his paws. The sun felt so nice warming the dark fur on his back, he’d forgotten all about scanning the area for other cats. 

Jake stretched and inched his forepaws on either side of Talltail. “I’m glad I know you,” he purred.

Talltail was a little caught off guard. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“Well…. I’m...glad I know you too?” 

They sat there in the branches passively grooming each other's ears, and Talltail listened to the breeze whisk through his fur. It wasn’t the familiar winds he grew up with, but he swore he could almost smell the moor carried on them from far away. Before the homesickness could creep up on him again, Jake yawned and stretched.

“Ok, we’ve stalled long enough, we should probably get down now.”

“Right, erm, down.” Talltail still wasn’t brave enough to look.

“Don’t worry, it’s not as if I’ll let you fall. Promise.” Jake winked.

“Are you going to catch me?” Talltail snorted. “I probably weigh as much as you do.”

“I could carry you if I had to! It’s not all fluff under here.”

 Talltail was still doubtful of that, but Jake’s confidence in the whole situation was at least easing his nerves a little.

“I climb trees like this all the time, it’s much easier than it looks. Surely you won’t have too much trouble balancing with that tail of yours.”

Talltail swayed on his paws as he, unfortunately, finally glanced down at the dizzying drop through the branches. Oh stars… He kept his eyes firmly on Jake’s tail and paws, one branch at a time, flinching with each tentative jump, but after some coaxing and at least one instance of Jake grabbing his scruff to steady them, Talltail at last landed down onto safe grass again. He still trembled a bit even as he flexed his claws into the soft earth 

“See, that wasn’t so bad!” Jake chirped.

“Says you, I can't believe you put yourself through that all the time.”

“The height is kind of a rush though, isn’t it?”

“If by rush, you mean vividly imagining the air rushing by me as I plummet to my death? Then yes, absolutely.”

“Aw I bet you could climb all sorts of things if you set your mind to it!” Jake grinned at him.

“I prefer to use my tail for steering my turns,” Talltail retorted. “WindClan are not the climbers of the forest. An old clanmate of mine, Aspenfall, took to climbing better than the rest of us, but he was still pretty bad at it.”

“You really do all have such funny names don’t you?” Jake replied. “Who else is there?”

“What, in my whole clan? well...my mentor was called Dawnstripe. I’m sure I’ve told you about Briarpaw, he’s the one training to be a medicine cat. I had a friend called Ryewhisker as well, and Fawnleap and Lilywhisker...” He listed off several more names as Jake stared. Talltail of course still knew everyone by heart.

“That’s so many cats, how do you keep track of them all?”

“That’s not even half of them! They’re your family, of course you come to know them over time.” He remembered how overwhelmed he had been as a kit, trying to learn the names of all his clanmates. They had been so patient with him.

“So how do you get your names anyhow?” Jake asked. “I heard a rumor your get a cool name when you killed your first enemy”

Talltail purred in laughter. “No, not quite. Our names are much more than that. They’re special to us, you get it when you’ve completed your training and officially become a warrior. No murder required. The first name given to you by your parents represents your roots. Your parents give you your colors and physical traits, so them choosing your first name is to honor them and the life you’ve been given. It’s usually a name referencing something from the world around us, to represent our connection to the area we are born in. Our territory is part of us after all, as important as our clanmates. It’s where you’ll spend your whole life.” Well...it’s where you’re supposed to spend your whole life, he thought with a twinge of guilt.

Jake nodded, “That's simple enough. What about the last part?”

“That’s the important part. It represents a small part of the warrior you become, what you're best known for. Some are more abstract than others. Your mentor, the leader, and the medicine cat discuss with each other about your progress over the course of your training to decide what name you're called to have.”

“That’s so cool! My name doesn’t mean anything, I wish I could earn a cool badge like that. But...What about you? Your first name is Tall, that’s not really a thing like the other names you told me.”

Talltail nodded. “My name is old. In the early times of the clans, you had no name at all until you proved you could survive to adulthood. Back then, if you got a name, it always referenced the most noticeable physical trait about you rather than anything else, so cats could tell you apart on sight. Except for the legendary warriors of course, who were named for their renowned feats, but most cats couldn’t hope to be that special. There was only one meaning to their names, rather than two separate meanings. So my name was planned ahead, a traditional one to honor the cats that survived in those hard times. That’s why my father chose it for me. I guess my tail was freakishly long back then too.” 

“You didn’t get to earn a last name yourself? That doesn’t seem as fun.” Jake said.

“It’s not all about fun! Besides, no name can perfectly represent everything about you. Getting a warrior name is always an honor regardless of what it is. Besides, it is pretty notable isn’t it?” he purred, wapping Jake with his tail for good measure.

Jake sneezed as the fur tickled his nose. “Yeah, I could see you from a mile away with that thing.”

After a bit more aimless wandering, they finally paused for a moment to rest. Jake rolled in the grass, getting burs and twigs and grass shreds stuck in his tufty orange pelt. He looked a bit like a hedgehog.

“You're going to end up dragging the whole park along with you if you keep that up,” Talltail chuckled. 

“Maybe I want to take some back with me. Also I like smelling like grass! It’s nice. You always smell like moor grass.”

Talltail didn’t know how that could be. It had been so long since he’d been home, the moor couldn’t possibly still be sticking to him. But maybe it was harder to get rid of than he thought. 

Jake interrupted his thoughts again. “What would my name be if I was in a clan?”

Talltail snorted. “Your name? I have no idea, it’s not something you can just slap on a cat!”

“Well how do cats who join the clan get named? Does that ever happen?”

“We’ve never had an outsider join in my time but...I think the leader chooses? Even then, I can’t possibly imagine what skills you would prove over the course of training.”

“Well let’s say you’re leader, what would you call me? Just if you had to guess?”

Talltail hummed in thought, looking Jake over as he beamed back at him patiently. He had the goofiest gleeful look on his face, Talltail stifled a purr “Oh I don’t know...Perhaps Flameface.”

Jake laughed at that. “Flameface? That’s a name? That sounds so silly!”

“It’s not silly at all! It’s a perfectly fine name. No sillier than Jake, your name is nonsense! It sounds like the noise you make when you hack up a furball. It only sounds silly to you because you don’t know what it means.”

“Ok, ok that’s fair. What’s it mean?”

“Flame is pretty self explanatory. You are the brightest orange cat I’ve ever seen. And I guess I associate it with you now because your twoleg’s den was the first place I ever saw real fire.”

“I like ‘Flame.’ That part’s cool. But...what, does my face look like it’s on fire?”

“No, no it’s not always that literal. Well, maybe it is a little. Some names are for cats who are good at many different things, but master of nothing in particular.”

“What? I could be a master at something!”

“It’s not a bad thing at all!” Talltail purred. “In fact, those are some of the most reliable cats. ‘Face’ is just a variation on referencing your appearance. I think it’s often given to cats who are thought to be particularly attractive in some way or another. I can’t remember what the idea was exactly. Like their face draws attention or...lights up the area? Metaphorically of course. It’s a little sappy.”

“Ohhh...” Jake was silent for a moment in thought. “You think I’m attractive?”

“What?”

“Wow, no cats ever called me that before!”

Talltail’s pelt felt hot as he sat up. “Y-you’re thinking too hard about it, I’m trying to be objective. I only thought of it because--I just mean you’re distracting. But...In a good way.”

“I’m distracting?”

“Well, I don’t mean--I meant like, eye-catching, because of--have you looked at yourself when the sunlight hits your fur? It--No, oh for StarClan’s sake, hold on, I’m explaining this poorly. Stop looking at me like that, the point is that’s the closest guess I can manage. It might not be accurate.”

Jake grinned up at him, “I like that name.”

“...Good. It’s past sunhigh now, so we should start looking,” Talltail mewed quickly, already to his feet, hoping his fur wasn’t noticeably bristling in embarrassment. 

Jake trotted after him, his tail held up high. “So, what would your name be if you earned a normal one, do you think?” he asked, a new note of amusement in his voice that Talltail was trying very hard to ignore.

“I don’t know, Jake.”

“‘Cause I think you could be a ‘face’ cat too, you’re the most distracting thing I've ever seen in my life”

“We are burning daylight here, Jake.”

“Ok, but think about it.”

Talltail would probably think about it for the rest of the day, thanks.

chapter list / previous / next

[carelesscreativity]

Bad Guy Poly (Focus on Dust) for ZellAlmasy: Commission for Ko-Fi

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(SFW, Fluff, Angst)

All he could hear was HIM. Dust’s fingers were embedded in his skull, having ripped straight through his hood as he remained hunched over on his knees. All he could hear was THEM. Underneath Papyrus’ voice were the voices of every monster he’d ever killed. They were all violently whispering. Blaming. Accusing. Screaming. His LV crackled along his bones like electricity.

He wasn’t aware of what was around him. He wasn’t aware of who was around him. All he could hear was Papyrus. All he could FEEL was Papyrus, those ghostly clawed hands breaking into his shoulders. He was crying, purple tears pouring down his face as Papyrus grinned at him, a ghoulish, demonic hiss stretching from its jaws. “SANS.” Dust screwed his eyes shut, another devastating ripple of magic sweeping out from him.

He could feel something else creeping in. A powerful aura that brought negativity and dread. His painfully bright eyes widened and he looked up. He recognized it. Immediately, he wailed for him. He was trapped in a swirling, powerful vortex of his own magic. It HURT. He wrenched his fingers out of his skull with a cracking noise. He was begging for the other to come get him. To make it stop.

The vortex was beginning to die down as Dust forced his LV back down. It hurt. It hurt so bad and his body was twitching madly as actual dust fell from under his hood. He felt it. The aura was upon him as something wrapped around his waist. He could barely see through his tears. A rumbling voice shushed him as a dark figure appeared in front of him. He whimpered loudly.

“H-Hurts... hurts... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...” Dust kept whispering frantically. He could still hear Papyrus, even though the voices were all slightly muted by Nightmare’s aura. The darker reached out with his tentacles, pulling Dust closer. Dust’s LV continued to crackle along his body, spreading a bit onto Nightmare’s. It stung, but there was no way in hell Nightmare was letting go now.

They were still screaming at him. “I had to do it! I had to do it!! It was just going to keep going!! I had to!!” Dust was frantically trying to explain himself to no one as Nightmare kept the hooded skeleton against him. He clawed at the other desperately, his sharp, grey-stained fingers digging into and tearing the fabric of Nightmare’s hoodie. The darker didn’t mind it, being much more worried about Dust.

Dust’s eyes shakily darted around, realizing they were in the remains of the training room. He’d completely caved it in. He inhaled shakily. More tears welled in his eyes and he began to weakly apologize again. “Please don’t send me back... please don’t send me back...” He begged shakily. Nightmare blinked and assured Dust that he wouldn’t. Dust continued to tearfully beg and Nightmare stared at him in quiet dismay.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to Dust’s. His voice held a calming rumble as he whispered for Dust to sleep. The hooded skeleton’s vision pulsed and tunneled in. He collapsed against Nightmare, his eyesockets closing. Nightmare sighed quietly, his breathing a little shaky.

Dust woke much later. He didn’t know where he was at first. He stared blankly at the ceiling. His fingers gave a quiet twitch and he became aware of something holding his hand. He furrowed his brow. He curled his hand around whatever he was holding, giving it a squeeze. He felt it squeeze back after a moment. His bones ached. He was so sore and he had a bad headache. He could still hear Papyrus faintly whispering in that feral tone.

He made a soft, strangled noise, struggling back to full consciousness. He managed to turn his head to the side, meeting Horror’s wide, teary-eyed gaze. The other’s red-stained hand was holding his grey-stained one. Dust became aware that he was in a bed. A soft bed, on soft pillows. Horror looked like he was about to start crying again. Dust didn’t like that at all, letting go of his hand and reaching out to his cheek.

Horror desperately leaned his head into Dust’s hand. He was leaned against the side of the bed. Dust twitched as he felt the bed shift from another direction. He furrowed his brow and looked over. Cross froze up. He looked like he’d been crying too and Dust blinked at him. The soldier tried for a weak smile, sitting on his knees on the bed. “H-Hey...” He said, his voice a little strangled. If there was anyone besides Horror that Dust could read like an open book, it was Cross.

Both him and Horror looked like they hadn’t slept. Even as skeletons, they both had dark circles under their eyesockets. Dust heard another noise. Error was in the bed next to him, knees drawn up to himself as he slept against the backboard. Dust twitched as he stared at him, hearing Papyrus furiously whispering for him to kill the Destroyer. “Horror, can you tell Kills and the boss that he’s up?” Cross asked.

Horror gave an incoherent response as he nodded. He stumbled to his feet, his bones popping. Dust’s hand felt cold when Horror pulled away and he watched in disdain as he left the room. “Hey, he’ll be right back. He’s just getting everyone else.” Cross assured Dust quietly. Nightmare was comforting Killer in the other room. He jumped as Error shivered.

Cross used his magic to get a blanket, taking it and laying it over Error before moving to sit next to Dust on the bed. Dust twitched and his fingers curled into the bedsheets. Cross seemed to notice and reached out, slipping one of his hands under Dust’s. Dust blinked and held it quietly. Cross gave another weak smile. “You... were asleep for a couple days this time. We were all REALLY, REALLY worried.” His voice broke a little.

Dust stared at him and felt a twinge of guilt. Cross seemed to notice and sputtered. “I-It’s not your fault!! I... We care about you a lot so w-we just... we worried...” He fumbled to explain and Dust nodded, giving Cross’ hand a squeeze to signal that he understood. His eyes became unfocused as he heard Papyrus whispering. Cross would be good EXP. Not as much as Killer or Error, but it would add to his magic. He shook his head.

He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to kill Cross. He blinked, twitching as he heard footsteps. He looked over at the door, Killer appearing first with wide eyes, his soul fully converted to the upside-down heart and his eyelights shining bright. He also looked like he’d been crying, though Dust knew Killer would NEVER admit it. The other came over to the bed, shakily taking Dust’s other hand as he gave a weak smile. “Man, Dust, ya scared us half to fucking death!”

His voice was strained. Horror came around, climbing on the bed. It was difficult for him, being off balance from the hole in his head. A tentacle helped Horror up as Nightmare appeared. Dust stared at everyone. There was a lot of LV in the room and he could hear Papyrus frantically urging him to take it. To kill them while they all trusted him. “You know they won’t fight back!” The ghostly head insisted. Dust screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

He was twitching again and Horror was heard whimpering. Cross quietly assured Horror it as okay as Dust felt hands on the sides of his head. Soothing pulses were sent through his skull and Dust almost cried in relief as the pounding died down. Killer stared down at him, quietly urging Dust to breathe as he sent the pulses. The bed shifted as Nightmare sat down, his tentacles stretching out to wrap around all of them. It was his way of showing that he was worrying and he felt protective.

Dust felt a tentacle slip between his fingers and he twitched before giving it a soft squeeze. He didn’t even know what he could say to them. He apologized shakily. Each one of them assured him it was okay. “None of us got hurt. You didn’t hurt anyone.” Cross said, smiling. Dust gave a quiet nod, weakly echoing that he didn’t hurt anyone. Horror was picking at the sheets, a tentacle around his waist.

His hand began to creep back up towards the hole in his skull and Dust furrowed his brow. “Horror, no...” He said shakily. Nightmare’s tentacle wrapped around Horror’s wrist and tugged it down as he apologized. He fiddled with his fingers. Killer continued to soothe Dust’s head. The black-eyed skeleton had been frantic about Dust. He was terrified he’d done something to trigger him during training. The truth was, Dust just snapped like that sometimes.

Nightmare was heard asking Cross about Error and Cross responded that he’d seemed cold. Dust looked over at Error. Cross gave a soft sigh. “He hadn’t slept since you calmed down. He’s been awake for three days straight and we just got him to sleep.” He explained softly. Dust felt bad. Cross jumped and shook his head. “No, it isn’t your fault! He wanted to stay up for you! He made that choice!” Dust nodded weakly. Cross faltered, feeling like he was messing everything up.

“As much I hate agreeing with Cross, he’s right.” Killer hummed quietly. Cross shot him a glare and Killer responded with a grin. Dust blinked and gave a soft scoff, nodding. He believed them. He jumped, his eyelights flickering as Nightmare asked how he felt. Dust furrowed his brow.

“I-I feel better... voices are soft...” He mumbled. Killer murmured that that was good. “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to...” Nightmare shook his head, telling Dust it was okay. “I-I can rebuild the room.” Nightmare shook his head again, saying that Error had already done it. Dust still felt bad. He jumped as he felt teeth against his own, blushing a faint purple as he pressed back against Killer. The black-eyed skeleton pulled back.

“Ya don’t gotta be sorry for anything. We don’t blame you.” He told Dust quietly. Dust gave a quiet nod. Horror looked down, fiddling with his fingers a little more. Dust watched him, knowing Horror only usually did that when he wanted something. Killer followed his gaze before sighing. “Horror.” The broken skeleton jumped and scrunched up his shoulders. “You wanna give Dust a kiss too?”

Horror went bright red and sputtered quietly, Nightmare having to tug down his hand as he reached for the hole in his head once again. He gave a flustered nod. Killer chuckled. He got up and Horror moved over with a bit of encouragement, taking his place. Cross blushed, glaring at Killer as the other grinned at him, leaning against him. Dust reached up and gently pulled Horror down, connecting their teeth. Horror pressed back quietly.

“I’m going to have you rest for another day or two.” Nightmare spoke. Dust blinked and looked up, beginning to protest in his scratchy voice. Nightmare silenced him with a single look. “Please, Dust.” Dust felt the tentacle squeeze his hand again and he gave a weak nod. “Thank you.” Dust mumbled that it was no problem, his glowing eyes staring around the room at nothing. There were faint outlines of monsters standing in the room.

Why couldn’t anyone else ever see them? Dust stared at all of them with unfocused eyes. He was gently shaken back to reality by Horror. The other had curled against his side and Dust’s body had instinctively responded by wrapping an arm around him. Horror seemed happy with that. Killer was flustering Cross as Nightmare watched in warm amusement. Dust watched as well, a weak smile on his face.

The ghosts were fading and he could only see his lovers. All of them. He couldn’t stop the noise that erupted in his throat. Horror noticed and blushed, looking up at him with wide eyes as Dust purred shakily. It was faint and would stutter every time he twitched, but it was there. Nightmare seemed to have taken notice too, that warm gaze moving over to Dust. Dust felt his face heat up a little.

How could they all still love him? He didn’t understand. He didn’t get it. He looked down to see Horror nuzzled into his side. He looked up to watch Killer and Cross before a soft noise began to escape him. It was a rare noise and everyone immediately froze up. Dust was laughing. He was smiling and had broken into a gentle bout of laughter, bringing a soft blush to everyone’s face.

There wasn’t a single hint of madness. Nothing deranged. Just pure and simple laughter. To all of them, nothing sounded more beautiful.

[icollectyoursins]

Merman Jotaro x Fem!Reader NSFW Part 1

Anon said: "Merman Jotaro merman Jotaro merman Jo... SPICY PLEASE"

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Honestly. I dream about this often. 9/10 times it’s hot. 1/10 times it’s really hot. It’s not gender neutral, I guess, but it’s not a fem!reader. The reader just happens to have a vagina and tits. I could do a reader-with-a-dick version of this, if you want. This one is very long. Couldn’t stop writing! I am the biggest Jotaro simp and I am not afraid to admit it.

Heads up, Jotaro is referred to it as ‘they’ for most of this, only because the reader doesn’t really know what he’s packing on first glance. Anyway, I hope this is in character because Jotaro is one I haven’t quite nailed yet.

For as long as you can remember the ocean would call to you. After a lot of resource managing and hard work, you finally had enough money to get a boat and a small cabin by the beach, free to escape to the vast blue as much as you liked. Which is exactly what you did today. Someone was a little less than happy to see you in his territory.

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Dubious consent (dub con), size difference, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play (sucking specifically), uh... tentacle dick? Kinda, two dicks, breeding, mention of kidnapping at the end.

Word count: 2506

Rest and Reproduction   

     The smell of the salty air tickled your nose as the mist of small waves splashed your face. You breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the railing and staring out at the land. You could just barely see the sand and your little cabin. The rest was blue. A deep, calming blue. The stars reflected on the surface, twinkling pleasantly. Maybe you should go out a little bit further?

   Maybe tomorrow, you were tired from preparing your boat all day. The sun was just starting to set when you finally got on the water. You deserved a break.

   You sat down on a small fold-out chair you grabbed yesterday. It was comfier than you thought it would be and you sank into it happily, curling yourself into it as you stared up at the stars. A long sigh left your lips. Today was a good day.

   A loud splash to your left startled you, making you sit up quickly and run to the source of the sound. All you saw were the ripples it left behind. Whatever it was, it was big. Then another large splash, this time it was accompanied by a thunk on the metal. The boat rocked from the impact, instinctively, you reached for the railing, holding on so you don’t fall over.

   A third splash comes from behind you. You turn around quickly, catching the glimpse of a tail, pure black and big. It banged the side of the boat again, throwing you off balance. You stumbled backwards into the chair, knocking both it and yourself over. The knocking suddenly stops along with the rocking. Silence never felt more terrifying. You sat, frozen by fear.

   Then the bow started to dip and creak. You scrambled backwards hoping to keep out of the water as long as possible. A large, black, clawed hand gripped the front of the boat, then another. Whatever it was, it was trying to pull itself up. Slowly, you were able to see its face the closer it got to you. 

   Sharp, angular features with piercing blue eyes and full lips. Short, black hair messily stuck to their face. They crawled towards you, eyes narrowing with focus the more they tried to fit themselves onto the boat but their weight kept tipping it. You were holding onto whatever would keep you up, unfortunately, nothing was helping and you slowly began sinking towards your pursuer. 

   You tried to scramble your way up to no avail. The closer you got, the less they moved, waiting for you to come to them. They reached out with one of their massive hands, grabbing your ankle then pulling you towards them. What happened next was a blur.

   Arms wrapped around your torso, holding you close to keep you from struggling. Whoever was holding you was massive, significantly stronger than you, easily trapping you and pulling you into the frigid waters. The salty sea stung your eyes as it whipped around you. Then, just as you were about to blackout, you were pulled to the surface again, gasping for breath. 

   You pushed against what you assumed was a rock sticking out of the water because of the sting against your back. Your arms were pinned down as your attacker shifted himself so your legs were under them. They were cold and wet; slimy. As your eyes gradually focused, you saw fully who this thing was. 

   Glaring down at you was some kind of half-man, half orca or shark mix. Their arms up until the elbow were black, then faded to a light flesh tone. You couldn’t quite see the rest of their body, but you imagined the rest was similar. Light skin transitioning to a pitch black. Bright blue eyes started you down, full of rage and confusion. 

   “What are you doing here?” A low, rumbling voice boomed from them. You struggle to speak, unable to think straight with this whatever it was on top of you. Their eyes narrow at you, threatening you without words. You continue to stutter and attempt to free yourself from their grip which only tightens, claws digging into your skin. They snarl, face getting closer to yours. “What are you doing here.”

   “Ah! I’m just- nnf- I didn’t do anything wrong!” You gritted, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “I was just trying to relax, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.” Their lips pulled back, baring their teeth slightly. It was at this point that you noticed that they were... well. Hot. They were hot. “Who are you?”

   They glared at you, deciding whether or not to answer and you felt yourself shrink under their gaze. After a few seconds, they finally did. “My name is Jotaro and you are in my territory.”

   “I didn’t mean to, I swear!” They snarled again. You could feel your heart race. They leaned into your neck, sniffing. You gasped, trying not to move, hoping you wouldn’t upset them more, but the closer they got to your neck, the more (regretfully) aroused you got. You moved your head away, stretching out your neck, shamefully trying to entice them. Meekly, you said: “I didn’t know.”

   They rolled their eyes, tail swishing in frustration. You could feel them moving against you, which only made your situation worse. You moaned quietly at the slight movement on your groin. They stopped, staring at you; perplexed. Embarrassed, you screwed your eyes shut, praying they wouldn’t notice the blush on your face. They moved again, deliberately this time, deeper and more fluid making you bite your lip to stifle another moan.

   Jotaro leaned in, raking their teeth along your sensitive neck taking in how you shivered. You were ashamed, but it’s hard not to react like this when there’s a really hot, strong, slightly intimidating merman on top of you. They released one of your arms, placing it by your shoulder to get more leverage as well as loosening their grip on the other. Their lips came dangerously close to you, breath kissing your skin, then they sat back again. 

   “You have two choices. I rip open your guts and feed you to the sharks, or-” they lean in, lips brushing against your jawline teasingly, “-satisfy me enough and I’ll let you get out of here alive.”

   “What?”

   “I’m not repeating myself. Now, hurry up before I make the decision for you.” You gulped. I mean... it’s not like he’s giving you very many options... you shyly nodded your head. “Say it.”

   “I’ll uh... satisfy you...” your voice trailed off into a question, not sure if that was the right word.

   “I’ll be the judge of that.” They pushed themselves back, looking up and down your body, probably to see if you were built to satisfy them. “You’re lucky I haven’t found a female yet, otherwise there would be two to worry about. The others of my kind aren’t so forgiving.”

   Okay, so they were a he. Good to know. That meant he had the... parts for everything to work, right? Or, at least most of the parts. He makes eye contact one more time before getting to work. Jotaro rips your bottoms off, slightly scratching your thighs, a low, rumbling sound coming from his chest. What little fabric is left is tossed aside and he holds open your legs, inspecting you.

   You stare at him a little dazed. This can’t be happening, right? He drags his teeth along the inside of your thigh while glaring at you from the corner of his eye, the shivers down your spine prove that this is very much real. When he gets close to your sex, it’s very apparent how aroused you were. He can smell it so strongly. A clawed finger cuts open your underwear leaving you completely open to his stare.

   He quizzically pokes at it, pushing your folds apart. Gently, he takes his thumb and rubs your entrance, eyes flicking up to you as you squirm, moaning quietly. His brows furrow together, testing you further by swiping up to your clit, pressing into it then circling. You moan louder this time, bucking your hips up into his finger.

   He quickly gets sick of your squirming, pulling his fingers away and bringing them to his lips, tongue slipping out for a taste. Jotaro stopped, sitting completely still. You shook, hoping he wasn’t offended. He looked at you with a new fire making you gulp down a breath. He slams one arm down across your hips, pinning you down while he brings his face closer to your cunt, licking along your entrance. Your hands fall into his hair, back arching off of the rock as much as it could in your immobile state. He groans at the taste of you, needing more. 

   He leans into you, lapping up your juices vigorously. His lips then wrap around your clit, lightly sucking. Your body tries to move, buck up into him as you mewl, but his arm is too strong. His eyes flick up to you, watching your cheeks get more and more red as he picks up his pace. Suddenly, he pulls back making you gasp. The two of you make eye contact before he crawls up to your face again, cool body rubbing against your unclothed lower half.

   Jotaro crashes his lips into yours. The kiss catches you off guard and you let out a small, muffled sound of shock, but soon melt into him. The taste of you mixed with the saltiness of the sea had your eyes rolling back into your head. Again, just as you were starting to enjoy yourself, he pulls back, moving onto another area of your body. This time it was your breasts.

   He tore a large hole in your top and bra, wide hands roaming over your now exposed chest, pinching where ever he saw necessary. Immediately, he drags his tongue along your soft flesh, flicking over your pert nipple. You gasp and groan, grinding up into him as much as you could under his weight. He pulls away sharply, baring his teeth as he growls at you.

   “Stay still,” he warns, pinching one of your nipples harder than he probably should have. You arch up into his touch, crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure. He twists. Hard. Your hands come to meet his, trying to pry him off, pain now taking the forefront of your feelings. Obediently, he pulls off, leaning into your face, voice low and dangerous. “Stop moving.”

   You meekly nod your head, still holding onto his hand which he then brings up to your face, wrapping your hair around a clawed finger. A sweet, kind change from the aggressiveness before. Jotaro’s eyes wander over your face, taking in your soft features. Once again, he kisses you, gently this time before shifting so he could focus back on your vag with his other hand. 

   His fingers spread your lower lips open again, middle finger pressing into your entrance. He’s careful, doing his best not to scratch you with his sharp nails. He moves his finger up and down before finally pressing into your warmth. You both gasp as your head tosses back. He starts with a slow pace, gently massaging your walls, coaxing more of your juices to seep out of you, squelching whenever he moves back in.

   Gradually he picks up the pace, testing your limits as well as listening to the sweet sounds that fall from you. He adds a second finger when he thinks you're ready, then three, stretching you open. You were so close, holding onto his hand still, pulling him closer to you as you reached your peak. Unfortunately, you never got there. He pulls his fingers out, licking off any traces of you from his fingers before moving so he was exposed to you.

   Jotaro takes your hand, bringing it to a slit below his waist. Your fingers trace over it lightly next to his, taking into account how he shudders. He leads your fingers, pressing into the top of the slit. Slowly, you watch it grow wide, a small pink nub starting to protrude from it. The more you tease his slit the bigger the nub grows into two full, smooth, tapered cocks. Tentacles? You weren’t quite sure, but they looked... exciting if a little intimidating. 

   You let go of his hand, opting to hold one of his cocks instead. They were slick and warm with a pleasant weight to them. The one you were holding curled around your hand slightly, covering your hand in moisture. You start jerking it with slow, shallow pumps, noticing how his eyes close shut and the slight buck of his hips. You pick up the pace, enjoying how the tip starts drooling what you assume it pre onto your hand. 

   Quickly, your hand is pulled away and he moves to align himself with your entrance. Slowly, he slides into you, groaning as he gets deeper. At first, it was okay, but the more that entered, the more full you felt, his tapered tip reaching into every crevice inside you. His other tenta-dick rested between your cheeks, teasing your back door, but never entering. He growls, picking up the pace slowly so you got used to the new intrusion.

   The feeling was driving you mad, whatever warm liquid was seeping out of him added to the pleasure, gradually building up to a tingly feeling that made you babble like an idiot. Jotaro places one of his arms above your head, pressing into you more while the other hand reaches up to your breast, teasing your nipple again. Instantly, you wrap yourself around him, pulling him closer as he gyrates into what feels like your soul. You cry out his name over and over, head tossing back in ecstasy.

   His breath tickles your ear as the two of you chase your release. He groans into your ear, lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder where he kisses you gently before sinking his sharp teeth into you. You scream as pain and pleasure mix together again. He speeds up, the lip of his slit stimulating your clit more and more. 

   “Ah, ah ~aah! I’m cl-hnn. I’m so close!” He laps up the blood from your shoulder, taking your words to heart, somehow getting deeper into you. A few powerful thrusts into you sent you hurtling over the edge, eyes rolling back while your vision when white and you fell limp in his arms.

   Jotaro soon followed you, the feel of your tightness around him made him plunge deep into you, spilling as much of his seed as possible. A vision of you growing round with his pup dances across his eyelids. He looks down at your face, flushed and relaxed. You were more than satisfying to him. He would never allow anyone else touch you after this.

   The last thing you recall was a warm kiss placed on your temple before being swallowed by the cold water and then black...

[jaskierswolf]

The White Wolf (3/3)

Previous - AO3

Jaskier woke up with Geralt’s body draped inelegantly over his. He sniffed and mouthed at the fluffy white tail that was tickling his snout. When that didn’t get Geralt to move he bit the tail harder, not enough to make Geralt bleed but enough to elicit to yelp from the other wolf. Geralt growled and rolled off of Jaskier’s back, stretching his front paws out on the ground with a wide yawn. Jaskier tilted his head and then pounced on his boyfriend, bumping their noses together and mouthing at Geralt’s snout. Roach was safely being looked after by the younger priestesses at the temple, whilst Jaskier and Geralt hid out in the corners of the gardens until help arrived.

Geralt let out a low growl and his ears twitched as he stared intently across the garden. Jaskier let go of Geralt’s ear and sniffed. There was a mage nearby. He could smell the burning scent of a portal ripping through the air, and a new floral perfume that didn’t match the temple gardens.

He whined and grabbed his pile of clothes before running off into the bushes. He shifted easily back into his human form, hopping on his feet at the rocks dug into his soles. “Oh shit!”

He batted a branch away from his face and desperately tried to pull his trousers and shirt on.

“Geralt?”

It was a soft female sounding voice, friendly but he heard another growl from Geralt.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered as he struggled to find the sleeves for his arms.

“Geralt of Rivia? I’m Triss Merigold. I’m here to help.”

“Oh bollocks!” Jaskier's shirt got caught on a branch and there was the telltale sound of fabric tearing.

“Hello?”

Jaskier burst free from the bushes with his doublet on inside out. The sorceress, Triss if he’d heard correctly, looked less than impressed by his rather dramatic entrance. He brushed off his trousers and stuck out his hand. Triss shook it tentatively.

“I’m Jaskier, Geralt’s… bard?” He glanced at the wolf who was glaring steadily at Triss. Jaskier dropped to the floor and wrapped an arm around Geralt’s neck. “He’s just a little bit shit with strangers.”

Jaskier was just glad then he didn’t recognise Triss from his childhood. That would have been  awkward to say the least. His dreams were still haunted by violet eyes to this day. Yennefer hadn’t been the worst of the mages his parents had employed but those eyes… they were so unique, beautiful and terrifying.

He barely suppressed a shudder.

“You know Yennefer?” Triss asked with wide eyes.

Jaskier closed his eyes and buried his face in Geralt’s fur to stop the wave of nausea. He’d forgotten that the most highly trained mages could read thoughts. Triss must have been a graduate from Aretuza if she knew Yennefer of Vengerberg.

“Please stay out of my head,” he mumbled.

“I am sorry, Jaskier. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yeah well…” he trailed off.  Geralt snarled at Triss, and Jaskier heard his teeth clack together. “Geralt, darling. It’s ok. She’s here to help, my dear. I’m fine I promise.”

Geralt turned around and butted his nose against Jaskier’s.

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s face, kissing his snout. “I just have some bad experiences with mages, darling.”

“You’re the shifter.”

Geralt turned back to Triss faster than lightning and pounced. She blocked him with a spell and he yelped as he crumpled to the floor. Jaskier shifted, tearing out of his clothes and roaring as he landed in front of Geralt. His long tail flicked out behind him as he pointed the venomous prongs at Triss. He stood up on his hind legs and roared again as he flapped his wings.

He heard Geralt huff behind him and he relaxed. Triss, who had been thrown back against the ground, moaned and pulled herself to her feet. Her thick curls fell in front of her eyes and she watched Jaskier and Geralt with wide-eyes.

“I thought Yen was exaggerating. You’re incredible,” she breathed and took a step towards them.

Jaskier hissed and scraped at the ground with his wings.

“Easy, Jaskier. I don’t want to hurt you, remember? I’m here to help Geralt. I need to examine him, see if I can break the spell.”

Jaskier didn’t want her near his mate and he hissed again, but Geralt had other ideas. He pounced on Jaskier’s back and bit the back of his neck.

Jaskier’s legs gave way and he fell to the floor. He’d hadn’t realised that would work in this form. Geralt was a fucking bastard. Once Geralt let go he shuddered and shifted into a cat, curled up on the ground under his partner.

Geralt licked his head once and sat down in front of Triss.

“Will you let me help?” She asked.

Jaskier looked up at Geralt who nodded once.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier hissed lightly but nodded.

Geralt nudged Jaskier’s nose with his and then padded over to Triss.

Triss put her hand on either side of Geralt’s head and closed her eyes. Jaskier snuggled up against Geralt’s side and tried to relax enough to purr. He knew the sound comforted Geralt when he was human and he hoped it would have the same effect as a wolf. Geralt was breathing heavily and his claws dug into the earth.

“Oh Jaskier, killing him was not your smartest idea,” Triss sighed.

Jaskier hissed at the witch. He’d already beaten himself up over that one enough in the last few days, but he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat. He would protect Geralt with his life and he’d genuinely though the mage had hurt his partner.

“Hmm… no incantations. That’s a good sign. The spell was in whatever that dust was that covered Geralt,” Triss spoke almost as if she was in a trance. “I’ve not seen anything like it. He knew who you are, what you are. Perhaps it is safer this way.”

She sighed as she pulled away. Geralt gave a short sharp bark and tilted his head.

“I can’t help, but there is good news.”

Jaskier yowled at her and clambered onto Geralt’s back. He was once again hit with the urge to shift into a wolf to match his partner but he’d changed forms quickly and he wanted to preserve his energy. He still had an inherent distrust on mages and this one was too close to Geralt for his liking.

“It should wear off soon. Nenneke said it had already been four days?”

Both Jaskier and Geralt nodded.

“I can’t imagine it will be any more than another week.”

Geralt let a long whine and his ears dropped. Jaskier mewed and nuzzled into Geralt’s fur. Triss hesitantly held her hand out and Geralt bumped his nose against her palm. Jaskier’s tail flicked out behind him as he glared at the witch.

“Geralt wants you to know he’s ok, Jaskier,” She said in her simpering voice.

Jaskier hissed. He knew Geralt was fine. He was the shifter. He knew how to read animals and he knew how to read his boyfriend. He didn’t need some fancy magic lady to tell him what’s what.

“He also says to stop being so dramatic.”

Jaskier yowled and flicked his tail before nipping Geralt’s ear. He wasn’t being dramatic. She was being an arse. He tugged at Geralt’s ear with his teeth, and the wolf let out a low warning growl.

“Did you want some clothes, Jaskier?” Triss asked, hiding a giggle behind her hands.

Jaskier’s first instinct was to shake his head and hiss at the sorceress but his own clothes were currently lying shredded on the ground. With a flick of his tail he nodded, yowling angrily. He could accept her generosity, it was her fault that he’d destroyed his clothes to begin with. She should have known better than to endanger his mate. Yes, he might be acting petty, but he was grumpy, and he didn’t exactly have a good history with mages. Geralt huffed, and Jaskier fell off his back as he also nodded. Jaskier had to dig his claws into Geralt’s thick white fur to keep balanced.

Triss naturally found the whole affair far too funny for his liking but she weaved a set of beautiful emerald green clothes in the air, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Jaskier head butted Geralt with a meow, and with an audible sigh, Geralt took the silk clothes in his mouth.

“You’re welcome, Geralt, and don’t be too angry at Jaskier. He has his reasons,” Triss said sweetly, holding out her hand so Geralt could bump his nose against it as a sort of goodbye. Triss then turned to Jaskier, smiling sadly “She isn’t as bad as you think.”

Jaskier hissed. He didn’t need a reminder of Yennefer and her startling violet eyes.

“She’s been trying to find a way to help,” Triss insisted.

This time it was Geralt that let out a low snarl, pawing at the ground. Jaskier flicked his ears, feeling happily smug at Geralt’s reaction to the witch’s statement.

Triss just crossed her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes. “Not to cure him, that’s barbaric, but surely you’re curious? No one has ever heard of anything like him before. Yennefer has been trying to find others, she has hair and fur samples from Jaskier. If she can find others then, maybe you can finally understand where you come from, what you are?”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at the witch and let out a soft hiss, before letting his magic loose. He slid off Geralt’s back as he changed back into his human form, taking his clothes from his White Wolf. Triss blushed at his sudden nakedness but he didn’t care. She knew what he was and he was done hiding his true self.

“Yennefer worked for my mother.”

“She didn’t know about Julia’s true intentions when she agreed to help.” Jaskier scoffed. “A likely story.”

“Find her, she can help you,” Triss begged.

“I don’t need help!” Jaskier snapped. “I don’t need fixing. I. Am. Fine! I have Geralt, and our pack, I have my music, my poetry, my love. I’m happy, Triss. Why would I ruin that?”

Geralt whined next to him. Jaskier threaded his fingers through the thick white fur on the back of Geralt’s neck. He peered down at the wolf who tilted his head, a slow wag of his tail. Jaskier frowned, trying to work out what his darling witcher was trying to tell him. “Geralt? Are you saying you think we should find Yennefer?”

Geralt nodded, yellow eyes blinking up at him.

“The witch who was part of my utterly wonderful childhood?”

Geralt nodded again.

Jaskier scoffed, looking between his wolf and Triss Merigold. Triss was smiling far too smugly, she knew she’d won. Jaskier was curious about his heritage that was true, and Geralt knew that. They’d looked through the old library at Kaer Morhen but found nothing substantial. Jaskier had decided then that it didn’t matter, but now the idea of finding his own kind was once again dangling so tantalisingly within his grasp…

But then again…

So was Yennefer of Vengerberg.

Was he really ready to see her again? Would he ever be?

He looked down at Geralt, chewing his lip. Geralt butted his nose into Jaskier’s palm. Jaskier smiled faintly and nodded. He wasn’t ready to see Yennefer again, but with Geralt by his side he could do it.

“Alright then,” he said, his voice only cracking a little bit. “Where do we find Yennefer?”

Triss smirked, putting her hands on her hips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

____

Next story

More witcher fun!

[heuristicallyinclined]

Of Disks Lost and Cullings Interrupted

5.1k | Rating T for referenced gore and language

Summary: An unfortunate encounter somehow manages to not go quite as bad as it should have.

This is one of the self-indulgent drabbles I wrote last year for me and @theartisticapparition’s fantrolls meeting for the first time and how much of an absolute mess it would be. Enjoy.   

It has three fucking months since you ordered that hexagonal disk and you still don't have a shipping notification for it.

You stare at the screen of your palm husk. It’s a single point of brightness in the store room you slipped off to while some other ship was docking. For supplies or inspection, you don’t know and you don’t care. All you care about it the fact that no one is going to notice a single rusty slipping away for all of two minutes to fuck around on a personal device and see if maybe something went to spam. Which you are looking at now. And apparently set to delete messages after thirty nights, so if it did go to spam, it was long gone now.

“Sh!t,” you quietly exhale.

It’s objectively not even a good movie, just something dumb and cheesy that you can use to break up an evening. But it's no longer even about that. You just want the garbage that you ordered because you fucking ordered it and paid for it using some of your very limited funds. Grunt work means grunt pay and you have to at least be olive to even be allowed to complain in the first place, so your bronze ass just isn't going to cut it.

It doesn't make sense for you to not have gotten anything. Like at least a, "sorry king, your package is delayed," thing should have happened. You work in this shit, you receive and ship and log and deliver until your pan feels numb and it’s just your body moving through the motions. You have been mentally trying to work out how to even fuck up bad enough that this kind of delay would even happen because even for a rusty, who expects very little, this is still a bit much. You’re drawing a complete blank.

The movement of a shadow catches your eye, snapping you out of your thoughts. It slowly shortens from its exaggerated length to a more proportional one as the figure draws closer, straight towards you. You don’t recognize the silhouette’s lean frame, horns or hair which seemingly fanned out to symmetrical points. You definitely didn’t hear them enter or move through the storage bay.

Swallowing, you turn.

You see his color before you notice anything else about him. Your blood runs cold as you immediately straighten to attention.

Violet.

Seeing sea dwellers through screens and on posters did not prepare you for the real thing. You had never seen one in person before and definitely had never had one slowly making his way closer to you. Everything about him was sharp. His fins, his claws, his teeth, they all came to a clearly defined point. His grin was especially sharp. Almost sharp enough to distract you from whatever the hell his spear thingy that he casually held over his shoulder like it weighed nothing was.  

“S!r.” You address him, bowing your head slightly. “!s there anyth!ng ! can do for you?”

His smile widens when you acknowledge him. His golden bracelets jingle lightly against each other as he brings a hand to his chin, seeming to genuinely consider your question.

Oh goddamn it. This is going to take longer than two minutes.

“) is there anyfin you can do for me? (,” he repeats coolly. He pensively looks off to the side as he continues to move towards you. ") oh I don't know. i just wanted to sea what was back here ("

He walks just behind you and you stiffen. You can feel his eyes lingering on you.  

"!t's mostly crates here s!r. Noth!ng too !nterest!ng"

Faster than you can register it, the hand not gripping his weapon quickly grabs your shoulder, turning you to face him. The points of his manicured claws dig into you. You keep your balance as best you can, but stumble a bit.

”) now, now. you're here too (,” he smiles at you cloyingly.

And just like that, he corrects your stance, getting way too into your personal space in the process. His grin remains shallow and doesn’t meet his eyes. It just isn't warm enough to distract from how cold his touch leaves you and in that moment, you have a realization.

So, you’re probably fucked.

He holds you for longer than is comfortable in what you’re guessing is a touchy little power play, before continuing to move past you, looking up and down the racks that surrounded you two. They were nearly as high as the ceilings and he was doing a pretty decent job of acting like he actually gives a shit about what's on the shelves. He moves by each of them methodically, occasionally picking something up like he was shopping before putting each back neatly into its place.

At least the crew coming in after to replace you isn’t going to have to reorganize anything after washing you off of the walls.

He keeps going and you know he doesn’t genuinely care about whatever soaps and meal packets are back here. You don’t either, not really. He isn't even going through the whole store room, just the area around you. It is almost like he i-.

Oh.  

He’s circling you.

Is this a fish joke? You feel like this is a fish joke he’s making for himself. Or is he just adding another layer to his touchy murder dude bit?

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts before you can really try to work out what his angle on this is. You really hope he didn’t notice you starting to zone out there for a bit.

“) it all just seems rather dull (,” he draws listlessly.

“Wh!ch part?”

He glances back at you. His smile begins to falter.

“Wh!ch part s!r?” You correct quickly.

He chuckles and turns his body to face you.

“) the whole thing (” He gestures away from himself, at your general surroundings. “) i mean here you are, trapped on a run down ship, doing menial tasks for the rest of your unfortunate life. truly, i don’t know how you can stand to be here. i mean, I’d rather die than work in a place like this (,” he looks at you intensely, his pupils seemed much more narrow now that they were completely focused on you. “) what about you? (”

Ah. Yeah. You see what he did there, but he isn’t exactly providing you with any revelations about your life and you don’t exactly think boredom is what’s going to cull you.

“! see !t more l!ke a flavor d!sk.”

Your response stops him and he looks at you strangely.

“Even when !ts bad !ts good," you elaborate.

His gaze becomes harsher for a moment, and then it’s gone.

“) that is a rather crude way of looking at it, i seappose(.”

Alright. No mentally stable person seriously uses the word “suppose” out loud. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to beef it. The spear thing would be involved. It would be really fucking weird if he carried it here just to not use it, but he seems extra enough that you would not put him bringing a long a prop past him.

He notices you looking at it and smirks at you.

") so (,” he recovers and ambles towards you, focusing his full attention on you again. His weapon no longer was resting against his shoulder. He held it against the ground and casually leaned against it like it wasn’t one of the most threatening tools of questionable identity and mass murder you had ever seen. “) what are you doing back here with all of these very uninteresting crates? (”

“! just thought ! forgot someth!ng !n here and stopped by to check. S!r”

“) without telling anyone? (”

“Yes, s!r.”

He chuckles, all too pleased, “) whale, that was a poor decision on your part. there is just so much here that if anything happened to you (,” he lowers his voice, like he was graciously letting you in on a joke, “) who knows how long it would take anyone to find out (.”

A beat of silences passes. You swallow, You know he feels the tension. He looks too excited not to.

“!, uh, maybe should have told someone ! where ! was go!ng !n case someth!ng happened.”

“) i agree (.” He straightens and picks up his weapon, spinning it with ease before he points it at you and slowly starts to bring the to your neck. “) unfortunately for you (,” he starts, “) no one knows you're here (.”

Even as you move your arms, he makes no move to stop you. He grins wider, more manic, looking excited at the idea of you actually trying to fight back.

Ha.

Sucks to be him because there is no fucking way that the last thing you do before you get culled is putting in some more effort to make this more enjoyable for the extra dude culling you.

Because if this guy's going to cull you, you're at least going to be the one making a request and try to have some fun here while you can. Because what is he going to do about it? You’re getting culled anyways, might as well, right?

The ridiculousness of it all makes you grin as you shrug at him. "Well, sh!t. Alr!ght."

This acceptance gives him pause as he tilts his head slightly, considering you. A crease forms between his brows and he tightens his grip on his weapon. ") w-"

You cut him off. You’re going to die so you think you get to be rude. Him being mad about it won’t really be your problem for long anyways.

"Can ! d!e !n a cool way though?"

") i-" he starts to lower his weapon, which you now think is a harpoon. Maybe? You don't know man. You don’t know anything about fish shit and you’re understanding less by the second.

You continue looking at him with the same resigned optimism that carried you through most of the bullshit you did. It got you this far. Which, granted, is probably getting culled by a bored sea dweller, but there are probably worse ways to go.

") wait (,” he says.

"Yeah?"

It isn't exactly like you're going anywhere. You know what to do with fear, being a rusty, you learn that shit real quick. But the look he is giving you now just makes you uncomfortable.

"What's up my guy?"

") aren't you going to fight back or somefin? ("

"Uh." You glance around the room full of mostly crates and his eyes follow yours as you search before you focus back on him, confused. "L!ke w!th a weapon?"

") yes? (" His smile tightens, seeming incredulous that you even asked.  

"Why would anyone g!ve me a weapon? ! mean, there m!ght be a broom somewhere. Actually wa!t, ! th!nk that got broken last w!pe. !t wasn't even me th!s t!me," you add with a side smile.  

He doesn't seem to know how to respond. Neither do you, so you do what you normally do when you don't know how to react.

You keep talking.

"! did troll karate for a l!ttle b!t when ! was f!ve, but !t was k!nda lame so ! stopped going. Does that uh,” you hazard, “w!ll that work for th!s?"

") no (." He narrows his eyes at you. ") plus, I know fish judo(."

Your jaw drops.

"What the fuck. F!sh judo !s real?"

") of course fish judo is reel (." He quickly spits, looking offended by your ignorance. ") do land dwellers just think that you can fight the same way underwater? ("

"! mean !'ve l!terally never thought about !t."

") i'm not surfrised ( ."

"Okay, but ! feel l!ke !f a land dweller !s !n a pos!t!on where they need to know f!sh judo, !t means they're going to lose at f!sh judo."

") i mean, i guess? (," he replies, baffled before quickly refocusing on you again. His sharp thing is pointed back at your throat as he slips back into his previous cool demeanor.

“) you do reelize the danger you’re in right? (”

Your eyes dart down to his weapon and then at him, now being the one confused.

“Um, yeah?”

Was the whole mood he had going on not an intentional thing on his part?

He stares at you. So you go on, listing things on your fingers as you go, trying not to focus on his questionable object with definite pointiness.

“So you got the whole class!c stalk and lurk th!ng so you could follow me somewhere ! would be alone where no one can hear me scream. !t’s pretty standard,” you emphasize.

You can’t read his expression.

“There was the whole slow dramat!c enter, nefar!ous d!alogue, and, uh," you glance down, "harpoon?”

“) harpoon (,” he repeats.

“That’s what ! thought !t was, but ! felt !t would be we!rd to ask.”

His mouth opens slightly and his fins flare out more, now openly seething.

“) do you know what i could do to you? ("

A lull drags on.

"Et!vor."

") what (."

"My name !s Et!vor." You continue, "! thought you were draw!ng out the you th!ng because !t's l!ke. We are a good b!t into th!s whole th!ng and !t's kinda awkward to ask for names now, so ! am just, you know, putt!ng !t out there."

He blinks. "I don't give a fuck about your name Etivor."

He still used it though.

Taking a very deep breath, he resumes. “) i am going to take immense pleasure in cutting your tongue out and slowly flaying you alive (”

He moves closer to you, slowly, predatory, circling you again. One of his icy hands brushes by your arm in a mockery of comfort as he continues to muse more to himself than you.

“) maybe I’ll slice off each of your joints, starting at the ends and slowly work my way to eventually gutting you. perhaps I’ll simply behead you. although, i think you’ve said enough to have earned far worse, don’t you think? (”

His face being this close to you is definitely starting to put you on edge more than what he is saying. But what’s really bothering you most of all is that one of those sounds a bit too familiar.

“Wa!t. That second on-”

“) you don’t get to fucking choose which one,” he hisses at you as his claws start to dig in to you.

“! wasn’t done. Damn.”

You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t just stabbed you from sheer frustration. It’s kinda funny. It would be way more funny if he wasn't going to cull you though, but you’ll take what you can get.

“!sn’t that second one from that one comedy with troll Tob!hn Bhelle?”

“) you’ve sean that? (” He raises his brows. “) no. i added a little twist with the gutting at the end instead of letting them bleed out (.” Almost hesitantly he asks, “) did you like it? because i thought they were trying too hard where they ha-.”

He catches himself and raises his weapon at you again, “) STOP. This is NOT what is taking place right now (.”

You narrow your eyes. He's the one who kept talking.

“Then !t !s from that mov!e. You can’t just say, no !t’s not and then be l!ke,” you motion with your hands, “but w!th a tw!st! You l!fted !t.”

He bemusedly stares at you.

“) are you purposefully trying to infuriate me? was your egg dropped? do you not understand what happens when you piss off royalty? (” He snidely adds, “) i am going to get so much satisfaction out of flaying you (.”

He is literally the one holding the weapon, and holding you hostage, and also did physically hold you a few times. What the fuck does he think you’re trying to get out of this?

“! have never purposefully done anyth!ng !n my ent!re l!fe dude. ! am not about to start mak!ng an effort just when !’m about to get culled,” you respond, surprisingly defensively.

Wait, this has gotten off of the fucking rails and you don’t know where you guys actually stand.

“You are going to cull me r!ght?”

“) well, uh. yeah (.” He’s tense and glances around the room, taken off guard by your question.

"Cool." You nod at him. Worth a try you guess.

His harpoon is less looking like a weapon to be used against you and more like a barrier to keep you away from him. Silence again draws on and he stares at you expectantly. You glance around. His frown gets deeper and he looks more frustrated as time goes on. You have no idea what he is waiting for.

You never thought being culled would be this fucking awkward. Guess the torture’s already started.

") aren't you going to plead for your life? (" he demands, bringing his harpoon closer as he does so.

You’ve never been great on the spot. You try to muster something decent up.

“Uh, don’t cull me?” You said it as lamely as you felt.

He looks at you blankly. “) are you getting off on this? (”

“Dude. No. Gross.” Your face twists. “!t’s just like. !’ve never pleaded for my l!fe before. !t !sn’t sh!t you really get to pract!ce and ! feel l!ke !t won’t actually matter since !’m getting culled anyways. So. Yeah.” You slowly nod to yourself before looking up at him.

He is still waiting. Goddamn it. You sigh.

“No. Please don’t cull me. !’ll do anyth!ng.”

While that covers all your bases, it came out a lot drier than you thought but you’re too over this shit to feel any kind of way about it.

"!s there any chance plead!ng would even work?"

His disappointment was broken by a sharp laugh, ") of course not (."

“Then what do you even want from me?” you ask, getting kinda exasperated at his apparent high standards and prereqs for the randos he culls. Like it is one thing to play some kind of sadistic game with your prey, that’s normal, whatever, but it is a whole other thing to get weird about them not being good at it.

"Why ask unless y-. Oh." Your face falls as you get bitch slapped with the realization of what is really happening here. "Oh fuck."

You step back.

Your fear has apparently slam dunked him right back in his comfort zone because his grin is back full throttle and wider and sharper than ever like he was making up for lost time. ") you finally understand the weight of the seatuation you're in? ("

He slinks towards you and you feel the edge of the blade graze your neck.

"Yep," avoid his gaze and swallow.

You were going to get culled in the weirdest way possible.

“) and what is that? (,” he asks lowly, getting right the fuck back into your personal space. His smile almost splits his face and you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Th!s !s l!ke. A th!ng. W!th you."

He lowers his harpoon again, looking completely done. “) what the fuck is THAT supposed to mean? (” You half expect him to throw it across the room or through your torso.

You can’t stop yourself from speaking now that you're actually nervous and stressed and he is yelling and also way too close to your person and his harpoon isn’t doing either of you any favors.

“You had the whole k!nda fl!rty touchy th!ng going on and then you got really p!ssy when ! d!dn’t f!ght back. And you also got super d!sappo!nted w!th my sh!tty plead!ng l!ke you were really look!ng forward to !t or someth!ng.”

“) i’m disappointed because this is the least satisfying cull of my life! (,” he hisses.

You visibly cringe at the word “satisfying” and take another step back from him. There is some fear there but mostly you’re just really fucking uncomfortable. Troll Jesus Christ this dude is into some shit and you are not playing into it.

He also takes a step back too, now into a defensive stance. ") what? it doesn't look like that! ("

You suck in air in through your teeth and are looking anywhere but at him as you reply, "!t k!nda looks l!ke that."

") oh my cod ("

He just slumps down, his harpoon clattering in front of him. His mouth is in a straight line and his head rests between his hands. You stand there, unsure for a moment, before slowly lowering yourself a decent distance away from him. You honestly thought that getting culled would be less uncomfortable than it was being here while he has whatever the fuck it is he has going on going on or at least uncomfortable in a different way.  

You continue trying to avoid looking at him. It’s kinda expected that a highblood was going to cull you at some point. That was just how it tended to go for rusties, but you could not have guessed this, and now just kinda want to get this whole getting murdered thing over with.

You try to give him a moment, glancing around the room, mentally taking inventory of everything there twice. The awkward silence is weighty and the longer it stretches on, the worse you are feeling about this whole fucking ordeal.

“Would cull!ng me help you uh, not be l!ke th!s?”

He gives you a dirty look.

You sigh, "!t's not l!ke anyone gets to th!nk that for long, !f !t helps.”

“) if it helps? ( ” He spat each word, getting louder as he went on. He whipped his head at you, indignantly, “) this is your fault! ("

"What?"

") getting culled is so fucking basic. how did you fuck that up? ("

You stare at him, trying to figure out how the fuck to even respond.

Slowly, in what might be one of the last things you do in your existence, you serve this royal what you are assuming is the stalest tea of his life in the form of the lukewarm take, “you know, be!ng bad at dy!ng !s a good th!ng actually.”

These are real words. These are real words that you are saying to the guy who was leaning way too hard into the thirsty part of bloodthirsty.

You continue. "L!ke you don’t get to pract!ce th!s. ! mean, do ! look l!ke someone who has been culled before? Because ! haven’t. Have you?" You add.

He looks like he is about to have a conniption or the sea dweller equivalent. Can sea dwellers have conniptions? Because this guy is about to have a big one.

") you did not just seariously just ask me if i've ever been culled before. that is the dumbest question anyone has ever asked me! (," he practically shrieks.

"Well you're acting like ! should just know th!s sh!t. We have the exact same amount of exper!ence gett!ng culled!"

“) whale i’ve never encountered any TROLL who is so miserable that they just accept getting culled from the fucking get go (.”

“!’m not m!serable! !’m real!st!c! ! don’t have a weapon, ! can’t fight for sh!t, f!sh judo !s apparently fuck!ng real, and plead!ng does noth!ng. !’m gonna end up at the same place no matter what ! do so why drag !t out? L!ke, come on.”

You slump against the wall, exhausted from this whole interaction. “!t wasn’t great, but ! don’t see much of a po!nt !n gett!ng so worked up about sh!t ! can’t control. ! just wanted to go out !n a cool way s!nce noth!ng ever fuck!ng happens here. The reason ! was even back here !n the f!rst place was to see !f ! had an update on a stup!d hexagonal d!sk ! ordered three months ago. But that sh!t !s apparently !n the vo!d," you gripe.

You pull out your palm husk and check again. Jack shit. You groan.

You’re surprised to hear him chuckle.

“) sucks to be you (.”

“Yeah." You shake your head. "And then a few seconds after ! found out, some guy showed up to cull me.”

He actually laughs. This is so fucking ridiculous so maybe that’s why you are too.

“) it’s a lot more fun to be doing the culling (.” He eyes you again and you don’t want to crawl out of your flesh this time, and you feel like that’s a real development here. “) you seam like you’d lose a fight (.”

An accurate assessment.

“Yeah. Troll karate didn’t do sh!t for me.” A beat passes. “Drones actually burnt !t down l!ke two w!pes after ! qu!t.”

He snickers and a moment passes.

“) one month for a disk? that is fucking bullshit (.”

“Three.”

“) fuck (," he raises his brows. Moderate inconvenience seems to repulse him more than anything you've said tonight. ") that sucks, i get my shit next night with cullazon prime (.”

"N!ce. !'d probably try that if ! had more than twenty seven whole caegars."

Broke bitch disorder also seems to do it for him in the humor department and the two of you continue chilling in silence. Less uncomfortable this time. You almost feel bad for thinking he was a sadistic creep.

He breaks the silence. “) give me your palm husk (."

“What?”

“) i don’t repeat myself (," he replies tersely, holding his hand out to you.

What the hell.

You type your code in and pass it to him. He glances at the massive crack on the center of your screen with disgust. He looks at you and shakes his head before he starts typing.

He didn't ask, but still, you answer. “! cracked !t do!ng a k!ckfl!p on a doll!e.”

He doesn't look up. ") you can't do a kickflip on a dollie (."

"Not w!thout a cost."

He spares you a side glance. ") why the fuck would you even do that? ("

"Because !t !s bor!ng as sh!t out here and there !s much better to do !n the ma!lblock."

He hums noncommittally.

"Were you just spaced?"

") and what if I was?(," he asks, a touch defensive.

"Noth!ng. ! was just wonder!ng !f !t sucks th!s bad at your level too?"

") of course not (," he snaps. ") do you genuinely believe anyone could be doing worse than you? ("

"Well yeah." You tap your sign. "But not by much."

He huffs and rolls his eyes before he looks out for a moment.

") i'm abshellutely krilling it out here (,” he states resolutely before continuing, “) but taking orders is a reel pain (.”

He sullenly joins you in leaning back against the wall.

Damn, This might just be the first time he's ever had anyone above him. Well, above him and specifically giving him orders you mean, judging by the way he is basically pouting over it. Everyone loses agency when they ascend. Guess it just sucks more when you have more to lose, not that you’d really know.

"!t doesn’t get better, but you do get used to !t," you say, not looking at him.

He glances at you, frowning deeper before exhaling.

You keep not looking at him when you ask, "So. Are you go!ng to cull me?"

") no. there is no salvaging that. you completely ruined it (." He replies bitterly while returning your palm husk.

The cullazon app has been downloaded and opened to an account page. You raise an eyebrow at him.

He announces, “) okay etivor, i shared my cullazon prime with you. you’re still going to be a sorry excuse for a troll, but you might get enough out of it that culling you acshelly becomes entertaining (.”

This is a joke. This has to be a joke.

“Thanks, but there !s l!terally no way for me to pay you back for anyth!ng ! buy on th!s.”

“) do i look like i need your fucking charity? (” he sneers.

He is actually serious about this. He looks too pissed not to be.

“Nope, you’re way too bl!nged out for that,” you grin. This dude is wild. “What’s your number?”

He looks at you suspiciously.

“!s th!s really where you’re gonna draw the l!ne? You gave me access to your Cullazon, but won’t g!ve me your number? Ser!ously?”

He doesn’t ask this time. He just swipes it out of your hands.

“) i am ievahn mordax, probably the best thing that has and will ever grace your miserable fucking life and i will brutally cull you if you mention any of this ever happened to anyone (.”

He hands it back, but still holds onto it. “) i’ve made myself clear? (”

“Yeah,” you nod and he finally lets go. This is way better than a shipping notification. 

Oh. 

You check the time.

"Fuck!" You leap to your feet and he quickly grabs his harpoon.

") what? (" he shouts.

"! was supposed to be here for l!ke a m!nute to check on the d!sk." You look at your palm husk again. It has been way more than a minute and you have the feeling someone definitely noticed by now. You completely forgot about having some work work to do considering you thought you were going to die. "Sh!t." You look at him again. "Do you have anywhere to be?"

") what? (" He squints.

“! mean you just had some free t!me and you seem bored and apparently don’t believe ! can do a k!ckfl!p on a doll!e. ! have to defend my good name. You get !t.”

“) what good name? (” he snickers. “) and if i did, why the fuck would i want to spend anymore time with you? (”

“Because you can’t make fun of my Cullazon orders !f my boss culls me for tard!ness. You be!ng around means she can’t say sh!t.”

He seems to consider, “) a compelling argument. and i do get to watch you maim yourself in the dumbest way possible which is a definite bonus (.”

You grin as you start walking. “Or have your pan be blown when you see what trollk!nd can really do when there is l!terally noth!ng else to do. !’m push!ng l!m!ts here !evahn.”

“) you’re pushing your luck (.” He leans his harpoon against himself as he follows.

“Maybe.” Quickly, you face him and add. “But ser!ously, be cool. !f my boss f!nds out about any of th!s, she w!ll absolutely cull me.”

“) she can’t cull you (,” he huffs. “) i already called dibs on that (.”

You grin returns.

“Damn. !’ll let her know.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Pity in Short Supply (baon)

Summary:    In the aftermath of the kidnapping, Red has a few thoughts. There's a reason he's always called 'em liabilities.

Tags:  Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Aftermath of a kidnapping, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus, Background Spicyhoney, A Touch of Lemon Goodness

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time the sun was thinking about hopping over the horizon and getting started on its daily workout, the warehouse parking lot was starting to clear out. All the ambulances were long since gone, the only one of ‘em with a person in the back was the guy who was still stuck in that weird foam shit.

Red didn’t believe in karma; he’d spent much too long eating shit himself for that, but if there was any lingering threads of justice still clinging stubbornly in the air, it’d take a long, painful time to get that fucker loose.

Most of the Embassy Security teams were heading back with all the evidence stacked in their backseats and Red was standing in a shadowed corner away from the streetlights watching them pack it in. Some of ‘em would start working on interviewing the kidnappers who didn’t need a few hours to cut them loose from a little chemical warfare, along with the agents the FBI shipped their way. Some were gonna work on getting shit together for the inevitable interviews with the kidnappees sometime this afternoon. Red had some pull and plenty of strings to yank, but even he wasn’t gonna be able to hold back the tide of questions much longer than that.

There was probably gonna be a fit pitched somewhere along the line that he’d sent his trouble twins home to sleep before getting much info, but Red would have to hula that hoop when it rolled in. Wasn’t only about Stretch, it was about his bro; there was only so much the boss could take before he slammed face-first into his breaking point and he’d been skating a little too fucking close tonight for Red’s taste. Better to let him take his pretty little liability home, clean him up, spend a li’l time rubbing his scent all over him again like a dog in heat and wasn’t it a damn good thing none of ‘em could piss.

The last thing any of ‘em needed was his bro snapping and hauling his honey away like a shorter, skinnier, bald version fucking King Kong.

(and was the memory of his brother's bleak face as he sat there waiting for answers while Red lied out promises about getting his liability back in one piece gonna haunt his nightmares, fuck yes, 'course it was, gotta balance those books somehow, there was always a price, he'd learned that lesson fast while he was still carrying his baby bro on the streets. always a price, fucking always)

Red wasn’t too worried about losing any info, anyway. Wasn’t much chance of Stretch forgetting much, not with that eidetic memory of his. Not being able to forget was half of his fucking problems to begin with.

Out in the mostly deserted parking lot, the last couple agents were finished packing up their car, not even seeming to give him a second glance as they climbed in. ‘Seeming’ was the real shit there, to anyone who wasn’t used to watching. The driver, a deceptively slender deer Monster, their antlers cut stylishly down, paused just long enough for their eyes to flick his way. The subtlest of looks, but that was it. They didn’t make a show of asking if Red wanted a ride, didn’t play any ego trips over spotting him, just hopped into the car and sped off.

Good instincts. Red made a mental note to keep an eye on that one. Good, not great, ‘cause they didn’t notice the one standing further back behind him, the guy who took up the best shadows before Red even showed up.

He stepped up now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shuffled his way to stand next to Red, untied shoelaces dragging on the damp asphalt. They stood there together while the first unbearable rim of sunlight crested and took the shadows with it, bathing them in painful, golden light.

Red pulled out a cigar and bit off the end, spitting it to the ground. He lit a match with a flick of his thumb and held the tip in the wavering flame. When the end was smoldering, he flicked the match into the puddle, the faint hiss of it extinguishing unheard as he asked in a cloud of exhaled smoke, “how’s it going, sansy?”

Red was looking at the empty parking lot, the puddles dotting it like a scattering of miniature lakes across a land of broken asphalt, so he didn’t see Sans shrug, but he could feel it, a ripple in the still air around them. “went like clockwork. we planned for this sort of shit, you know, planned it out for years. worked out possible sceneries with fuzzybuns, toriel, all the diplomats.” Sans’s ever-present smile widened humorousness, “even had a few for edge and stretch, guess we shoulda brainstormed on those ones a little more. don’t know if we coulda come up with that one, though. drugging him was always a contingency, but no one guessed they’d strip his ass down and lose every damn tracker on him.” Another tight shrug, one quick. cramped motion, “we’ll know better next time.”

The plume of smoke rising from Red’s cigar curled in the air, drifting like a mist in the dawn light. Red watched it and nothing else, letting his sockets fall half-closed as he followed the wispy path with his eye lights. “ain’t asking about the fucking ops. how’s it going, sansy.”

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the rough scrape of gravel shifting under Sans’s feet as he rocked on his heels. “you know, i took up with the security department for paps,” Sans said conversationally. “wanted to keep a close eye on him when he went traipsing around the big bad world to spread the good word. back underground, that whole sentry schtick was an excuse for a paycheck, i wasn’t guarding anything but my own g and a nap.”

“yeah?” Red stuck his cigar between his teeth and bit down, tasting the scatter of soggy, bitter tobacco on his tongue as the jagged tips tore through the fragile wrapper. “that so, sweetheart?”

“yeah, that’s so, dollface,” Sans chuckled mirthlessly. “little ironic, ain’t it, that it turns out i’m good at this shit. who would’ve thought.”

“yeah, never woulda guessed a judge might not be bad at the whole diggin’ up covert info,” Red shook his head sadly, “a shock, really, that ya could put that empty skull of yers to some good use.”

“sweet talker. gonna end up sleeping downstairs with the cat you keep that shit up.”

“fuck, don’t do that,” Red shuddered. “already worried if i don’t get up fast enough to feed that bitch, she’d gnaw off my pinky toe before i wake up.”

“that picky little shit wouldn’t eat you if you rolled yourself up like sushi and slathered on caviar.” Sans hesitated, then asked, softer, “how’s stretch doing?”

“like shit.” Red didn’t bother to cushion it; his pity came sparingly and Sans could take it. “he’s got his judge all cranked up to eleven. caught a helluva glimpse of me when i got here, thought he was gonna puke on my shoes.”

Sans let out a long, ragged exhale. “that’s my fault,” he said bleakly, “i got him to hit his on switch to look for that lost kid, should’ve known he’d have a hard time shutting it down again.”

“maybe.” Red wasn’t too concerned about it. If Stretch wanted to retire and shove all that down into the dark, wasn’t any dust off his ass, but the only way he’d lose it entirely would be if someone ripped it out of him by way of a dustpan. “if those fuckers hadn’t tried to pull a limburger baby on the kid, then it woulda died back down on its own.”

This time Sans chuckle was more real, a little honest humor creeping in. “don’t let stretch hear you call him kid, he’s already got his panties twisted halfway up his spine.”

Red scoffed, tapping away the ash gathering at the tip of his cigar. “honey bun might be the same age as us, but he ain’t as old as we are. don’t matter how the universe tried to age him up.”

The sound Sans made might’ve been a hum of agreement or the juicy, hawking prelude to spitting. The sun hadn’t had a chance to chase away the evening chill and Sans’s jacket was zipped up against it. Over the tab of his zipper, nearly concealed by neckline of his hood, Red could see the glossy rim of well-oiled dark leather, the slightest glint of metal. He let himself look at it for a long moment, take a sip of dark satisfaction at seeing his collar right where it was supposed to be. Then he looked away, back across the empty, crumbling parking lot.

Sans didn’t try to touch him, only shifted his stance until their fingers brushed in a way that could pretend to be accidental, bone lightly scraping bone.

“we should get going,” Red said. The sun was climbing higher, the stars giving way to gauzy, useless clouds. At least stars were interesting, a reminder there was another Aboveground than this one, another path upward that might someday be reached. “we got a lot of shit to do downtown.”

“we do,” Sans agreed. He tipped his head in Red’s direction, slanting him a glance out of the corner of his socket. His eye lights were tinted golden by the sunrise, sly and knowing in a way that had nothing to do with magic. “want me to blow you in the stairwell before we take off?”

Red didn’t wait for him to finish, tossing his half-burned cigar into a puddle, dousing it and sending a splash of ripples through the still water. “fuck, yes.”

He followed Sans into the warehouse and in moments he was braced against the rusty handrail with his shorts around his ankles in the dust, shuddering at the feel of that hot, wet mouth around him, worshiping his cock with lovingly sinful familiarity. Every inch of his focus was taken up by that and there wasn’t room to think about a single other thing. Not even the phantom sensation of metaphorically getting flayed alive by a wild orange gaze, the unexpected, needle-sharp feel of every one of his sins digging in their spidery claws as they crawled up his spine.

He didn’t think about it at all.

-fin