#fuck it. trees can lay eggs now. fuck you
THAT ONLY RAISES MORE QUESTIONS
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Pawpaw seed planted locations April 16th 2021. They're all marked with little bamboo stakes except the first one because I forgot it.
This is a long the Hanover Trolley Trail, in Hanover, Pennsylvania.
Pawpaw trees (asimina triloba) are North America native fruit trees, and is North America's largest fruit tree!
The trees and fruit to appear tropical, because they are the only tropical fruit tree that survived the Ice Age this far north! And along with them survived the zebra swallowtail butterfly, a tropical looking butterfly, that, like the papa, is the only species of its type of found of this far north because they survived the Ice Age. Zebra swallowtail butterflies lay their eggs on a pawpaw trees, and the caterpillars eat the leaves. It's the only kind of tree they can lay their eggs on. These two fucking stuck it out through the ice age together. And they're still around. I love evolution.
Since these are seeds, they will take at least five or six years to start producing fruit, maybe longer.
I was going to buy some older plants online to plant here, but now I'm moving away so I won't have time to do that :(
The seed locations:
A foot or two behind this bullcrap, near the benches at the curve. At least they thrive in shade as babies.
Down the hill a bit near the possibly multiflora roses that someone should kill if they have a positive identification. There are two trees visible in the first picture that are growing right next to each other as a landmark.
Next to the concrete little thing woth the creek, on the Right side if you're facing out towards the fields. Currently there is a little memorial set up there, so if I have time I'm going to plant some native flowers.
The seed is planted on the left side of the stream, down the hill a bit.
Uh. Already forgot where this one was. Oops.
So four more planted today, plus the three I did in the winter. If in ten years you can collect pawpaw fruit here, you're welcome. Pay it forward by planting the seeds in other areas :)
(according to people on youtube you can literally take the whole fruit and smush it into the ground and cover it with leaves or mulch)
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🌹Roses and Jade🟢
One Year ago
Sebastian tosses as he sleeps. His dreams leaving him no solace through the night as he dreams of the woods. Dark shadows surrounding his every turn foreboding the worse possible outcome. As he makes his way through the thicket, ethereal voices; the ones from more hellish landscapes began to caall out to the Darach,
“DiE” “YoU MUst”
“You” “Kill” “Must KILL”
“REvEnGE” “KILL” “MuRDER”
“YOU MUST KILL OR YOU MUST DIE”
Springing to consciousness Sebastian found himself in his kitchen brandishing a pairing knife and a single bead of blood pooling perfectly under the point of the blade and his Adams apple.
“The fuck is happening”
He spoke aloud as he dropped the knife into the sink. Faintly the words from his dream drifted into his mind and he froze. Taking a moment to breathe he checked the wards of his home and poured himself a stiff two fingers of scotch.
His wards were in tact.
This was not an attack on his psyche, better; one for his soul. The powers he had stripped and stole were not his, and they knew it. Demanded more in return. Something Sebastian was no longer interested in procuring.
But a deal had been struck.
Sebastian was no longer on a war path, no longer needed the powers that came with WHAT he was. It wasn’t who he was. Not anymore. He didn’t want to be. He’d die before he took that path once more.
Grabbing a palimpsest that he had been studying and a large jade egg he made his way to the heart of the woods. The nexus. The grove around the tree would provide to be the perfect footing hold for what he would try to attempt.
Far too risky for anyone to try and stop him he walked the long way, avoiding Ennis, and Wyatt. He couldn’t allow anyone to stop him, not this.
[At the nexus]
Standing at a tree directly behind the nexus Sebastian lay a path of roses and other petals from plants from his studies. Healing, spiritual connection, enlightenment, death, decay. Each petal invoking a different meaning for the man. With the etent of purging the negative energies that clouded his very being; Sebastian placed the jade egg at the foot of the tree before lying down on the path of petals he had created.
The invocation of Odin
“Cernunnos and The Quadrviae”
Dieties of the crossroads and life and death.
“Deonaigh dom suaimhneas ón dúchan seo ar m’anam“
Waiting for just a moment, Sebastian chilled as he felt the world go still. HIs hands sliced open by an abrupt slash of the petals. The ground drinking from him as if he were a tap.
Large amounts of blood drained from him, much more than what should have been possible from the wounds. Yet; Sebastian held no resistance. Even when his body began to convulse and his eyes began to grey.
If this be the way, then so be it.
He thought as he began to drift. His eyesight dark as the area around him glow vividly in the colors of the nexus. Greens and blues mixing with what now seemed like dark clouds of miasma. The pools of blood that was slowly being absorbed by the wild life now gone as the woods went silent.
Sebastian was silent
Then with a wind cold enough to chill the Jotun the petals began to float and cover his body. The jade egg turning black as the roots of the tree began to latch onto it. Dragging it down beneath the surface. The petals now forming a hard cocoon around the druid as he lay in a place between life and death.
Reminiscent of sleeping beauty in her glass coffin, Sebastian in his bed of roses remained untouched for several months. His body detoxifying the evil that latched onto his being. Each day a battle of dominance as the connection he had established transferred the powers and intent of the the Darrach into the egg. The possibility that his life would be forfeit was very viable, yet one thought remained.
“I have someone waiting for me”
[Two days ago}
The sound of breaking twigs can be heard through the grove. A hissing of steam, and the smell of iron wafting into the area as Sebastian finally breaks through. His hand ripping through the bindings as he comes to consciousness. Obvious seasons having changed caused the man to wince as he fell back down into the embrace of the earth.
“I wonder how long i’ve been gone.”
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Think of a Place
You and Bill talk dirty to each other in a church. Enough said.
c/w: implied alcoholism, smoking, referenced car crash, adultery
read on Ao3 here!
(photo by me- do not repost)
If Bill and Nancy hadn’t taken you in that night, you didn’t know where you would have ended up.
You woke with your head pounding. The soft light streaming through the blinds was painful to look at, so you clenched your eyes shut again. There was no sound anywhere in the house. It was early still. Sunday morning. You rolled over on your side and tried opening your eyes again. There, like an apparition in the middle of the living room, stood the boy. Brian. He stared at you with his intense blue eyes, which were nothing like his father’s, save for the dark circles under them. You stared back for a long moment. Then he walked off.
That was how your day began.
When you finally sat up, Brian was nowhere to be seen. Someone was coming down the hallway with soft footsteps. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and reached up to grab it. You felt its warmth, the sense of relief, the deep sadness it provoked in you.
“I’ll get you some coffee,” came Bill’s low voice. You only nodded. He paced into the kitchen, flipping on the lights and starting the coffee maker. From down the hall, you could hear Nancy talking softly to Brian in his room. Bill leaned against the counter waiting on the coffee, and you sat very still waiting for the room to stop spinning. Every time your mind wandered to the previous night, it leapt back as if touching a flame. You weren’t ready.
Bill handed you a mug of hot coffee and sank into the armchair adjacent to you. He was in his housecoat, feet bare, looking haggard. He sipped his own coffee and his searching blue eyes drifted up to you.
“Yeah. Better. Head hurts like shit.”
“Hate to bring this up, but we have church this morning. You’re more than welcome to stay here while we’re out.”
“Not sure I want to be alone right now.”
“You’re also welcome to come with us, if you think you can stand it. Go to church much?”
“Not at all. Not since I was a kid.”
“I’m sure it hasn’t changed.”
You considered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. “I’ll embarrass you if I show up looking like this.”
You were still in your work clothes from the previous day. You had slept in your slacks and t-shirt, while your suit jacket was on the floor with your blouse. And you hadn’t even assessed your wounds yet.
“Let Nancy iron your clothes. You’ll look just fine.”
He smiled at you, and you felt reassured. If Bill could still look at you without flinching away, that was all that mattered.
Borrowing one of Nancy’s robes, you sat at the kitchen table watching Bill make breakfast in his white collared shirt, black slacks, and shiny dress shoes. You sipped your coffee and watched his back as he scrambled eggs for everyone. The sun shined through the kitchen window, lighting the steam that rose up from the hot food. You felt such a sense of longing that you suddenly wanted to cease to exist and to be one with everything at the same time.
Brian and Nancy joined you at the table in their church clothes. Brian refused to look anyone in the eye, and focused solely on stabbing his scrambled eggs with his fork. Bill watched him passively as he always did, while Nancy held up the weight of the entire household with a tense, desperate smile.
“Your clothes are in our bedroom,” Nancy said. “You can change in there after breakfast. There’s still plenty of time.”
As Bill and Nancy cleaned up, you walked down the hall to their bedroom, aware of a dull throbbing in your ankle. You shut the door and stood in the silence of their bedroom. Your clothes were neatly laid out on the made bed. You slipped Nancy’s robe from your shoulders, standing in just your underwear. As you went to hang it up in the closet, you found Bill’s suits lined up neatly. You ran your fingers along them, leaned in, caught the scent of him. You shut the closet door then dressed slowly, careful not to aggravate any undiscovered wounds. You gazed at their bed for a long moment. Imagining Bill’s life here. You couldn’t imagine it for long. You left, shutting the door quietly behind you.
It was nearly time to leave for church. You stood outside with Bill, sharing a cigarette. Nancy was still inside, struggling to get Brian into his Sunday shoes.
“How bad do I look?” you asked. Bill looked you over so openly that you became self-conscious of his gaze.
“You don’t look bad at all,” he said.
He passed you the cigarette, his fingers brushing yours, and watched as you put it to your lips.
“I couldn’t live like this,” you said.
“Getting dressed and going to church every Sunday.”
“There’s only one way to get through it,” Bill said.
“Go somewhere else in your mind. Think of a place, and go far away. Otherwise it’ll suck you straight down.”
You let out a stream of smoke and handed the cigarette back to him.
“I do that all the time,” you said.
“Where were you trying to go last night?” he asked, voice soft and full of concern.
“Home from the bar.”
“That’s not the way you get home.”
He dropped the cigarette, stubbed it out, and reached for your hand. His was warm, big, rough. You stood there holding on to it and listening to the muted sounds from inside. Then as Nancy’s footsteps approached the door, he let your hand slide away.
“Ready?” Nancy said, flustered but smiling.
“Ready,” you said.
You walked to the car together, Bill with his hand on your lower back and Nancy unaware, focused solely on getting Brian into the car. You sat in the back seat with the boy, in silence the whole way to the church. You watched the neighborhood pass by, other families making the same pilgrimage, trees swaying lightly in the spring breeze. Your eyes fell on Bill’s hands as he drove. When you looked away, you found the boy staring at you as if he knew everything that was going on in your mind.
By the time you reached the church, your ankle had begun to throb. New injuries kept revealing themselves. Bill opened the door with his arm held out for you. He helped you out of the car, and you walked arm-in-arm with him towards the church. A crowd lingered outside in the bright sun. Heads began to turn as you approached.
“They have no idea what they’re looking at,” Bill muttered.
Nancy put on a smile, holding Brian’s hand firmly as you navigated the crowd into the church.
“I feel like they can see right through me,” you said to Bill. He squeezed your arm tightly in his as you passed through the open doors.
Nancy played the piano for the choir and Brian went to Sunday school, so you and Bill were left to sit together. You slid into the back pew by a tall stained glass window depicting Jesus with a pair of lambs. You remembered the feeling of cold isolation that made you shun church in the first place. But now Bill was here. You sat close, and no one else joined you on the pew. Some of the congregation greeted him as they passed, casting you strange looks but asking no questions. Bill offered no answers.
He had been right; the experience of church hadn’t changed a bit from when you were young. The hard, uncomfortable pews. The oppressive smell of perfume, dead flowers, and something unnameable in the air, like old memories dying fast.
Bill could feel you tensing up beside him.
“Think of a place,” he murmured.
You thought of last night. Turning up at the Tench household after another drunken binge, one that had nearly cost you your life. Nancy had immediately made up the sofa for you while Bill stayed up in his chair until you were asleep. You remembered Brian watching from the hallway, and Nancy telling him calmly to go back to his room.
As your mind detached itself from reality, Bill led you through the motions, the small rituals scattered throughout the service. He nudged you when it was time to stand for the hymns, held the Bible open between you, kept your place on the page with his finger. You had never heard Bill sing. It was something you never expected to hear in your life. You didn’t know the songs, and wouldn’t have sang anyway. Instead, you listened to his deep voice singing freely, never wanting to forget the sound.
As the sermon began, the young pastor addressed his congregation in serious tones.
“Let me now quote Proverbs— ‘For the lips of a strange woman drip honey, and her mouth is smoother than oil. But her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword.’”
You felt the pastor’s words snaking their way towards you down the aisle. You suspected, as you always did in church, that these words were intended for you alone. That you had been caught at something.
“Do you want to know what place I’m thinking of?” you whispered to Bill.
Bill inclined his head towards you, listening carefully while still looking ahead.
“I’m thinking of your bedroom. You know, I was nearly naked in the room where you sleep.”
The pastor’s voice droned on. “Then, from Matthew— ‘I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.’”
“I’m thinking of your living room, where you wiped the blood off of my lip last night. Where you brushed the cut with your thumb…”
Bill fidgeted in his seat. You saw his hand twitch towards you.
“I wanted you to slip your thumb between my lips. I wanted your fingers in my mouth.”
Bill placed his hand on the pew, his fingers grazing your thigh. You could see Nancy at the piano, and the backs of the congregation in front of you, all unassuming. Even the preacher seemed unaware that his warnings were playing out in that very church.
“‘Can a man carry fire next to his chest and his clothes not be burned? …Whosoever toucheth her shall not be innocent.’”
“I want you to lay me down right here on this pew…”
You caught your breath as Bill’s hand slid onto your knee, then up your thigh, slowly, silently.
“Fuck…” you breathed.
With his eyes still fixed ahead, he slid his hand further up your leg, until you could feel the warmth of his fingers through your pants, pressed against the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed in your seat, careful not to whimper, not to make a sound.
As you turned to look at Bill, to catch a glimpse of his face, you saw instead the small, dark form of his son standing at the end of the pew. Bill saw him at the same time. He swiftly withdrew his hand, and smiled at Brian as if nothing had happened.
“Done with Sunday school?” Bill whispered. The boy sat down at the end of the pew some distance from his father. You stole a glance at Bill. He shook his head slightly as if to say that it had been nothing. But there was no way to know what the boy had seen.
“‘Her feet go down to death; her steps take hold on hell. Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house.’”
You walked out into the bright sun slightly ahead of Bill, Nancy and Brian. You stood in a daze as they greeted friends and neighbors, introducing you as Bill’s partner at work. You greeted them politely, ignoring their stares. Then you wandered towards the cemetery, mind far away, wishing for a cigarette. A low plane droned overhead, and you tilted your head back to watch it until it disappeared. When you looked back towards the church, Bill was gazing at you through the crowd. You squinted in the sun and stared back at him, suddenly very hot. Your lip hurt; you could feel a bruise starting.
Bill and Nancy eventually walked over to you with Brian in tow.
“You’re welcome to join us for lunch,” Nancy said, sympathy showing on her face.
“I should probably get her back home,” Bill said, glancing at you.
“Thanks. I’m afraid I won’t make good company.”
“Why don’t you take her back while I get lunch ready?” Nancy said.
After Bill dropped Nancy and Brian off at the house, you moved to the front seat of his Plymouth Satellite. The bright spring sun flared through the windshield. Bill smoked with his arm out the window, aviators glinting.
Finally he broke the silence.
“You could have died last night.”
“I know. Trust me.”
“Did you want to die?”
You waited a second too long to answer. “Of course not.”
“Whenever you get that drunk again, please call me before getting in your car.”
“I’ll have to. I don’t have a car anymore.”
“Guess that means I’m your ride for a while.”
You glanced at him, one hand on the wheel, one out the window holding his cigarette. The ride to your house wasn’t nearly long enough. You could have driven across the country with him and never looked back.
Before you knew it, you were sitting in your driveway. Bill flicked his cigarette out the window. He slid his glasses off and looked at you. Then he leaned over, cupping your head in his hand, and kissed you.
You went very still, closing your eyes, savoring every second. Your hand reached up to touch his as his thumb stroked your cheek. Your bottom lip stung as he sucked it gently.
You smelled him, the smell of church, of shoe polish, of aftershave. The heat of the sun emanated inside the car, glinting on the black hood. You pulled against your seatbelts, suddenly raging with suppressed desire. You weren’t sneaking touches in church anymore; you were alone, you were together, and it felt as if the world were swiftly ending. There was little time for the two of you. Brief moments, cut short. You grabbed him by the collar, by the shirtsleeve. He could overwhelm you, consume you. But there wasn’t time.
He pulled back, gasping. You gazed at him, taking it all in. Soon he would be gone. Having lunch with his family. Thinking of each other, the moment in the church pew.
You unbuckled your seatbelt.
“Thanks for the ride.”
Bill reached out, brushed a strand of hair aside to graze the scrape on your cheekbone. The sadness, the longing in his eyes.
“Take care of yourself.”
You caught his hand and kissed his knuckles, feeling his trembling exhale. Then you stepped out of the car. You stood on your front steps, watching him pull away. Two fingers out the window, a small wave.
You listened to the engine drone all the way through the neighborhood, until you could hear it no more. The trees with their new white buds trembled in the silent breeze. Blue sky stretched relentlessly overhead, full of endless time, none of which it would share.
You turned and limped inside.
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This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!
pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan
genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)
word count: almost 14k
summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”
warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about
a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)
taglist: @rainodanna, @markresonates, @unknown5tar, @yoongsicles
For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed.
They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.
And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.
Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.
He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed.
And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right?
It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.
You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.
When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.
And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him.
Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him.
He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.
Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck
“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”
It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.
“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”
You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.
Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos?
“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”
Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week.
Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?
He hated seeing you sad.
“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”
Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-
“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”
Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.
This is not a date, he reminded himself.
He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.
He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.
You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.
No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.
Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.
Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.
“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”
“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”
The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?
You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch.
You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state.
“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.
YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.
“You are pretty”
It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound.
He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.
The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.
“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation.
It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.
“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender.
“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”
You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight.
You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.
He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?
You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.
“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”
You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible - the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.
Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again?
“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”
You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.
“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”
You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”
Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face.
“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”
He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.
And you aren’t ready to leave yet.
You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.
You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.
Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.
You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.
He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.
“Tell me you want this.”
You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.
“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum”
You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.
In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.
It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.
It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.
And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse.
Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.
It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.
Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets.
He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.
He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.
It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno.
A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.
“Is your cat still alive?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.
“Oh my god, yes, right there”
The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”
You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.
His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.
“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.
“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”
It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction.
You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.
“But we don’t have a condom”
You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.
Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.
He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you.
“Fuck. This feels so good”
You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking.
He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more.
Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.
“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”
He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.
Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.
It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.
You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.
The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.
Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.
8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.
You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.
“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”
“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’
With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands.
“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”
“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”
“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”
You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body.
“Did you forget about this?”
You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film.
“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”
You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.
You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.
The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart.
You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.
It was Johnny.
You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.
You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.
You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.
“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”
You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.
“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”
“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”
You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?
“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”
He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs.
“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”
Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”
Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit.
“Have I seen you in that before?”
You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?
“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”
“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”
You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.
“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.
“I’d like you better without it.”
With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.
He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.
“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”
He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.
“You love all my skirts Johnny”
“I do. Because I can do this”
His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.
Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you.
“Someone might see us.”
His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else.
“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”
You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.
“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”
You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.
Donghyuck was staring right back at you.
Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.
And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.
You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.
The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.
Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.
And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.
Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.
You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs.
You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.
“He’s on call, come back later.”
Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.
Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.
“No panties huh?”
It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.
You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.
“Like what you see?”
You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.
He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.
“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”
His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you.
“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”
“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”
“I could die after this”
His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.
“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”
You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.
“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.
You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane.
He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.
It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing.
His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.
“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”
The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.
“Donghyuck, please. More”
A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot.
“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.”
He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.
“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”
The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.
“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”
You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.
“What would you do to me?”
Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest.
“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”
You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.
The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.
You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties.
You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.
You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.
You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.
“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”
He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.
Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office?
You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.
“Shall we start?”
A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you?
“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”
Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime.
You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.
“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”
“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.
“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”
“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”
The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.
“What’s the occasion?”
“I got promoted!”
Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.
Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.
“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.
“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.
You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head.
“How about you come over my place for one?”
You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface.
Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.
You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.
He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.
“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.
“When were you gonna tell me?”
You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.
“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”
Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.
“I didn’t tell him-“
“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”
Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.
“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”
He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.
“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”
He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.
“We haven’t actually…”
“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”
“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”
You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.
“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”
You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.
“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.
Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.
“She’s a little brat”
“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”
You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.
“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”
You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.
“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”
Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.
“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”
Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.
“Tight, isn’t she?”
“So fucking tight baby, damn”
Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.
“I have to feel that again”
And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.
“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”
You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.
“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”
You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.
“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”
Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples.
“Is that hard enough for you?”
Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.
“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.
“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.
“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.
You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.
“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.
“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?”
He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.
“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”
“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.
“I need your big cock inside me, please”
You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor. His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.
“You’re still not used to me babe?”
“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”
“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”
“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”
You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.
“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.
“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”
“What a good girl”
Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.
You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.
Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust.
“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”
He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.
“Yes, sir. I love it”
Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.
Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.
“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”
You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.
You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet.
thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :)
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Egg-celent Job - Toshinori Yagi X AFAB Reader
Contains: Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Pregnancy, Oviposition, Egg Laying, Multiple Orgasms, Mermaid!Toshinori, Mermaid!Reader
Note: OVIPOSITION WITH MERMAID TOSHI BABY. Like the tags say, this is a smut drabble with oviposition, egg laying, and multiple orgasms. Both Toshinori and Reader are mermaids but I have left appearances out of the fic so you can imagine what you like. The only thing thats described is how long Toshi is, that he is mostly gold in color and that you have some type of scale hide. Everything else is up to your imagination! Reader's gender is not given but you do have a pussy.
The amazing art work that got me horny enough to write this: Link
Warnings: TW Pregnancy, TW Oviposition
Summary: You snack on some fresh crab and oyster while one clawed hand idly rubs your belly, currently swollen with eggs.
Eggs that are ready to come out at any moment.
Read on AO3!
You sigh in blissful comfort where you lay, soft warm sand surrounding you like a barrier. You're under the shade of palm trees to stay cool as Toshinori periodically rotates the sand for you, pulling the cold away and replacing it with new sand that's been heated under the summer sun.
He's been so good to you today, not that he isn't normally the best mate in the world, but he's paying extra attention to your comfort. You're about to undergo quite the workout after all.
You snack on some fresh crab and oyster while one clawed hand idly rubs your belly, currently swollen with eggs.
Eggs that are ready to come out at any moment.
Your slick tail is curled in the sand next you, your entire body forming a halo. You wish Toshinori was curled up behind you like he was this morning, but he left for more shellfish for your unending appetite.
The increase in your hunger is what let you know you're about to lay, your body trying to prepare for the amount of energy that will be used up.
You just finished shucking another clam when a golden glint from the water drew your attention. Your mate pulled himself from the waves, an incredibly long tail dragging in the surf behind him. He looked happy to see you, judging by the way his fins perked up and wiggled as he smiled at you.
He had a ripped human fishing net with him, filled with more snacks for you to munch, and your heart melted. If you weren't already bonded and getting ready to lay his clutch, you'd have him breed you again right now.
Toshinori coos at you when he nears, lips sealing to yours in a kiss while one of his massive clawed hands rubs your belly. You feel your clutch shift from the light pressure, and let out a pleasured whimper.
Toshi gives a deep, lusty chuckle at the noise, pressing down again to keep the eggs shifting. You whimper again and wiggle your hips and tail, trying to find any friction for your cunny. It was already leaking with swollen lips, ready to be bred. Toshi didn't pay your arousal any mind however, turning instead to the food he caught.
"Are you still hungry my darling? I managed to take down a tuna!" He pulls the fishing net forward and among the various crabs, clams, oysters and numerous small fish, the hulking mass of a tuna fish lay still.
More arousal floods you at how good of a provider Toshi is, and you coo your approval. He rumbles back in response, pressing his forehead against yours as you breathe together.
His cheeks are bright red in a blush at your obvious happiness. You know he still feels insecure about the scar marring his side, how so many other Mers insisted it made him unattractive.
You love that scar though, how he earned it from defending the whole reef with his very life. It was the ultimate show of protection.
Now, as you lay in the sand waiting for your first clutch together, you trace your hands over his sides and coo. Your arousal isn't going away, and you think it's almost time.
Toshinori maneuvers behind you, wrapping himself around you as you relax again. You idly pick tidbits of fish out from the net, feeding each other small bites in between kisses.
A sudden jolt and flood of liquid heat wakes you from your afternoon sun nap. Your hips snap into the air as pleasure floods your cunt, wetness leaking over your scales and onto the sand.
Your sudden movement wakes Toshi up as well, and he immediately pulls his long body to face your front, already speaking reassuring words as you whine.
His large hand completely dwarfs yours as he grabs it, stroking your face with the other. All you can do is pant out his name before a moan rips from your throat.
You feel it, the first egg.
It just breached past the safe wall of your womb and is slowly, so slowly, moving down towards your opening. Your friends always told you the first egg is the hardest to get out, not because it's painful, but it's too pleasurable.
You understand what they mean now.
The egg isn't strong enough to stretch open your cunt, so it's just sitting in place, pressing hard into the spongy spot in your cunt that makes you cry when Toshi's cock hits it. The feeling has you choking on air as your cunny quivers and leaks more fluid over your hips.
"Darling? What's the problem, does it hurt!? It shouldn't hurt-" You vigorously shake your head 'no', and gesture with a trembling hand to your shaking hips and tail.
"Oh! You need help, of course." Before you're able to stop him, Toshinori reaches his free hand forward - a large, calloused, warm hand - and rubs slow circles around your too sensitive opening.
The simulation makes you cry out, and you cum for the first, and definitely not the last, time today. Toshinori leans above you, bright fanged teeth pulled wide in his signature smile, as if he hadn't just destroyed your mind and put it back together with a single touch.
The rapid squeezing of your cunny does help though, and you feel a lurch as the first egg is pushed past your g-spot and closer to your opening. One of your clawed hands moves up to roughly grasp your hair and fins as you push, the other still holding onto Toshinori for dear life.
You feel a sense of relief when the egg presses against your opening, and with a squish the soft shelled egg slips out and into Toshi's waiting claw.
"You did it sweetheart! The first one is out, no ruptures or tears!" He very carefully moves the egg into a soft spot of sand he dug near you in advance for this day.
He continues to sing your praises, but you can't hear them, not really. Blood roars through your ears and fins as more lurching in your tummy makes itself known. The constant pushing has caused the other eggs to shift and start moving.
You feel one after another pop through the opening of your womb and move down, hitting every nerve possible on the way. Slick gushes out of your cunny and your tail flails in the sand.
You whimper and moan at the sensation, one egg after the other pushing through and rubbing your nerves, every stroke against your g-spot has white spots clouding your vision.
The second egg finally makes it to your opening, and it's like a wall breaks down. The eggs seem to flow right out of your twitching cunt, right into Toshinori's waiting hand and sand nest. He's still talking as you squeal and writhe, words of praise you know, but can't understand.
You are aware of his constant pet names for you, and every 'darling', 'baby', and 'sweetheart' gives you a deep carnal pleasure. You're losing your mind to the sensation of laying eggs and you have no complaints.
Fuck, for all you cared, after this Toshi could literally tie you up and only use you for breeding and laying and you'd scream how much you love him for it. The idea sends you into another orgasm, cum leaking from your slit endlessly while eggs tumble out with no resistance.
There's a voice crying in ecstasy, and you're suddenly aware that it's yours, and what exactly it is you're saying.
"T-Toshi-! Lo-love you! I love yo-FUCK!!! W-ant this-this again...fuuh...and again! Im-im your bree-breeding bitch r-right!?"
Through the fog clouding your mind you make out Toshi's face, completely red with hooded eyes as he watches you squeal in pleasure before him - because of him.
"That's right darling, my little breeding bitch, always looking so beautiful...god look at you, such a gorgeous mess…"
His free hand, still covered in slick from helping your eggs, reaches up to stoke your cheek. You lean into it and whimper as a particularly stubborn egg sits against your opening. You give a strong push and cry out at yet another orgasm, kissing Toshinori's massive palm.
His thumb strokes your cheek and you feel wetness that's not from your cunt. Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you lay egg after egg, and you can feel heat from your heavy blush spread from your face down to your collarbones.
You love this, you love this so much. This is all you want for the rest of your life…being fucked by your mate till you're full of eggs and laying them, over and over again.
Maybe in the future you can convince Toshi to fuck you at the same time? You have two other holes not being used while you lay…
The thought makes you cum again.
You don't know how much time has passed with you lying in the sand and cumming as you push out your mates eggs, but finally you reach the end. Your tummy has decreased considerably in size, and the last of your clutch is slowly being squeezed out by your aching cunt.
Your hips feel sore in the best way possible as you push and cum again as another egg pops out. Toshinori hasn't left your side the whole time, his deep baritone voice soothing your mind as he grabbed each egg that made its way out.
The sand nest next to you has been filled completely with your shared brood, soft shelled eggs with golden sheens. The small part of your mind still capable of thought hopes they have his wonderful blue eyes and golden coloring.
Little mini Toshi's for you to love as they grow older and find their own mates.
Your voice is hoarse and rough from the crying and moaning you did, but you still scream as the last egg pushes out of you. No sound comes out, but the full body trembling is enough to know you're cumming hard.
A pair of fierce lips steal yours into a kiss as your cunny still gushes, and you feel another smaller one crash over you. He's kissing you, and praising you…!
All your cum drunk mind can think of is how pleased you are that you made your mate so happy, that he's kissing you as you cum because he loves you so much…
When Toshinori pulls away you gasp for breath, eyes closing in utter bliss as your body gets to relax for the first time in hours.
"You did so well my sweet sunshine." You feel Toshi's soft lips press to your forehead, "Now rest and I'll take care of the little ones. When you wake up I'll have breakfast ready."
You give a vague hum of approval, hands that aren't yours massaging your back and hips as they move you to a cleaner spot of sand.
"Then after breakfast we can get started on the next clutch. Sleep well, sweetheart.”
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Get Your Blood Up, Love Ch 3
I write original fiction as well! I’m on Patreon where you’ll get snippets of my vampire/fantasy/romance novel, Wilderwood, plus TTRPG content and more! Patreon page
Geralt took his time getting back home, giving Eskel until about one in the morning to get nice and sloshed and wind up asleep face down in the sofa. But when he approached the front porch, twelve pack in hand, he didn’t hear the telltale snoring.
With a frown, Geralt unlocked the door with his passcode and slipped inside. The front room was dark, the kitchen beyond empty, and he didn’t hear any footsteps, water running, or snoring. But Eskel’s truck was on the street; he’d parked behind it.
Hackles up, Geralt set the beer down and focused. Listening.
There it was. A noise.
He scented the air and smelled arousal, musky and deep and like warm fur in a moonlit forest.
And then the spike of hot cinnamon in whiskey, dust warming in the sun….
Lambert’s date must not have gone well after all.
Or maybe it had. He caught another scent, unfamiliar but male, turned by mutagens and not at all unpleasant. Like a verdant greenhouse full of odd, exotic plants warming themselves in the humidity.
That was new .
And then he heard Lambert sigh Aiden’s name and everything clicked. They’d know he was home, having heard the front door. But he had two choices - sneak off to his room and try not to listen to the three of them together, or camp out on the sofa. It was actually a good sofa, and he could catch a rerun of the baseball game.
And it would serve them right to find Geralt naked and asleep in the morning.
Sofa it was then.
He checked the doors, set the alarm, and tossed his phone and keys on the sideboard Lambert had picked up at a yard sale for a couple of orens. Thing was old and out of fashion but they all liked it.
“Has a lived-in look,” Eskel said when Lambert carted it home like a proud parent.
“Looks battered to shit,” Geralt had countered with a grin.
Lambert had told them both to fuck off and set the rickety thing in the front room. And there it lived four years later. But at least it was no longer battered to shit since Eskel had made it his summer project to fix it up.
He stripped out of his gear, setting it and his weapons aside, and sat on the couch in his underwear, beer in one hand and remote in the other. Only once the game was on did he let his thoughts drift to the vampire and the contract.
The contract was pretty standard missing persons stuff, even if it was a vampire. Chances were Benedict had been lured or seduced to Black Marsh. He’d lay odds the man was dead. Black Marsh was nowhere to tread lightly, even as a supernatural being. Or a Witcher. He’d need to talk to Eskel and Lambert - and Aiden, if he stuck around - in the morning and see if anyone wanted to split the reward up.
Ten thousand orens. A couple of years worth of income. Enough to handle every problem with the house, fix all their vehicles, and put them in new gear with some to spare. It was easier now as Witchers, with technology and capitalism being what it was.
The job didn’t worry him. His employer did.
Hard not to notice when an attractive man - no matter his biological makeup or nature - sat in a massive chair as pleased as could get with half his shirt undone. Geralt wasn’t usually picky about the outside, since he found women and men and all in-between as equally attractive. It was the nature of someone that was enticing.
And Jaskier was a temptation.
He wasn’t an ancient vampire. Geralt pegged him for around three or four hundred. Enough to wrap the vampire in age and wisdom, not enough to make him a misanthrope, like so many of the old ones. Quite the opposite; Jaskier seemed to thrive in the middle of the nightlife scene. Geralt hadn’t missed the way the hazy red spotlights had danced across his face, highlighting slices of cheekbone and jaw that stirred something primal in his gut.
Jaskier was attractive. And knew it. That kind of arrogance usually irritated Geralt, but in that office, the way the vampire had looked at him….
He shifted on the couch, willing the stirring in his underwear to calm the fuck down. Now was not the time.
Another breathy moan came from above and Geralt ground his teeth. “Aren’t you fucking done yet?” He yelled, agitated and suddenly rather horny.
There was a thump, then a muffled curse, then masculine laughter. The creak of a door. Footsteps descending.
“Should join us,” Eskel said, face flushed and panting as he eyed Geralt sitting mostly naked on the sofa. “You look about halfway there already.”
He took a deep breath, let his eyes flutter briefly before looking at Eskel, who was naked and hard and slightly sweaty.
Geralt sprang to his feet and launched himself at Eskel, pressing his friend into the wall, mouth hungry. Eskel grunted but Geralt could feel his smile curl against his own mouth before two large hands were gripping his ass. “You only had to ask, Wolf,” he muttered before gasping into Geralt’s biting kiss. “Fuck.”
“Shut up,” Geralt growled into his mouth. He tore away only long enough to shove Eskel up the stairs, slapping an ass that felt good under his palm.
Eskel only laughed and raced ahead, darting into Lambert’s room briefly. “Carry on, lovebirds,” he said with a wide, feral grin. “I’m stealing the Wolf.”
Lambert, who was riding Aiden’s cock like it was his job, waved them on without a word. Geralt caught sight of one bright green cat eye before Aiden bucked into Lambert’s touch.
Eskel pulled their door shut as casual as could be before asking, “Yours or mine?”
Geralt shoved him into his own door and as they tumbled inward, kicked it shut behind them, much to Eskel’s delight.
Two days later
“I hate camping in marshes,” Geralt groused as he and Eskel unpacked their gear from his truck.
Eskel shrugged, hefting a pack onto his back. “Could be worse. Could be winter.”
Geralt frowned. “It’s a marsh. It smells like peat and bugs and death.”
“Still could be winter.”
“Then it wouldn’t stink.”
Eskel sidled up next to him with a shit-eating grin. “Afraid of some bugs, Geralt? Need me to stand guard?”
Geralt cuffed him gently on the shoulder. “Shut up.”
They were parked in a small lot at a trailhead that would take them into the forest that looped around Black Marsh. This was Continent property, so to the public they’d look like legitimate campers on a nice fall day.
And then it would be as simple as ducking under the useless ropes meant to keep people from getting sucked into the bog. The plan was to ask the park rangers if they’d seen anything odd - rangers usually didn’t mind Witchers - and then do a patrol to pick up any sign of Benedict.
Geralt had figured all roads would lead to Black Marsh and camping in the bog. He wasn’t thrilled in the least. Contacting Benedict’s family in Oxenfurt had been informative - they had no idea he was supposed to visit, and hadn’t heard from him in months.
When he’d texted the information to Jaskier, he’d immediately gotten a call from the vampire.
“So he lied to me?”
Geralt shrugged, not caring Jaskier couldn’t see him. “Apparently. I talked to his great granddaughter, grand niece, and a bunch of cousins. They hadn’t seen him since Yule last year.”
There was a sigh on the other end of the phone and then, “Then what in blazing hells is going on?”
“That’s what you hired me to figure out. We’re headed out into Black Marsh tomorrow, see if we can pick up a trail.”
There was silence for a beat and then Jaskier said, “We?”
“Me and another Witcher. I’m not taking the chance. It took two of us to bring down the hags.”
Jaskier chuckled. “Good to know you’re not too arrogant to go dashing off into danger by yourself.”
Geralt snorted. “I’m a Witcher. I’m usually on my own.”
“But not this time.”
“No.” Geralt paused, and then said, “I’ll update you tomorrow, once we hit the trailhead. If you hear anything about Benedict -”
“Fair warning, reception’s spotty in the Marsh.”
That made Jaskier grin. “I have my ways, Witcher. Talk tomorrow.” And the line went dead.
Geralt wanted to roll his eyes. Figured a vampire would be dramatic, no matter how handsome he was.
Eskel’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “Wolf, no cars here makes sense. But no rangers either?”
Geralt paused to look around. “Shit. You’re right.” Rangers were always nearby, even if the trail wasn’t busy. But they were alone with the trees and the crows and something dropped in his stomach. A boulder in the river.
Eskel edged closer to him and said in a low voice, “I don’t even smell any deer. We’re in rut season. The forest should be echoing with them.”
A branch snapped somewhere deep in the trees and they both whirled, swords out in twin flashes of silver in the greyed sunlight.
A shadowed figure stumbled out of the treeline, a bloody hand pressed to their gut. They were deathly pale, black veins skittering over their skin. And eyes that had once been a vibrant brown were ashen with pain and poison.
“Fuck,” Geralt said as they both took off, Eskel watching their back lest it was a trap for two Witchers in their prime.
“Is that him?” Eskel yelled as they neared. Geralt jerked his head no, putting on a burst of speed as the man - a human - toppled forward, knees cracking as he hit the ground.
“Help,” the man gasped just as Geralt caught him, preventing him from landing face down on the soggy, leaf-strewn ground. Blood gushed over Geralt’s pants, coating his hands. The blood reeked, like rotten eggs left in the sun. Eskel rushed in, immediately pulling a first aid kit from his pack.
Geralt shook his head. “Not good,” he muttered, noting the man’s innards were distinctly not inside his body and he bore claw marks on his neck. “Doesn’t have long.”
The man gasped, mouth puckering like a fish trying to breathe. “Marsh….vampire,” he gasped, voice raspy, rattling with each shaky, broken word. “He’s….infected…”
More blood, hot to the point of burning on his flesh, gushed forth and the man went limp. His heart stopped.
Quickly, Geralt took the rag and bottle of water Eskel offered and washed his hands, unsure of what the man’s infected blood could do to him. To be safe, he downed a poison antidote, grimacing against the vile licorice taste. “What the fuck is going on?” Eskel asked, scanning the trees for more dangers, or more victims.
“No idea.” Geralt looked down at the man’s body and watched as the black veins skittering across his skin receded, returning his pallor to dead instead of dead and infected . “Fuck.”
A dead body, a possibly infected vampire, and the oncoming dark were all working against them.
They didn’t usually deal in dead human bodies. Typically the authorities called in a Witcher - the ones who weren’t too stubborn or stupid, that is - and took care of any human victims. He and Eskel both had needed to make a victim disappear in the past, usually into the hands of a medical examiner who wouldn’t ask questions for the right amount of orens. That way the body could get back to the family and he could do his job.
This was tricky. So Geralt did the only thing he could think of. “I need to call Jaskier,” he told Eskel as they laid the man down and scrubbed at their hands again. “This far out here, with night coming, don’t have much of a choice.”
“I don’t like it, but I don’t think we can do anything else.” Eskel glanced down at the dead man, who looked more like a wax figure of a zombie than a human being at this stage. The rapid decay of the man’s flesh was disturbing, to say the least.
Geralt nodded and jogged back to his truck, where he still had reception. Jaskier picked up immediately. It took him about thirty seconds to explain the problem, and another thirty for Jaskier to agree to send his men out to pick up the man’s corpse. “You need to find the family,” he said, flipping open the wallet he’d dug out of the man’s jacket. “Tannyon Urdine. 516 Hartsford Lane, in Novigrad.”
“Bit of a ways from home,” Jaskier mused, almost as an aside to himself.
“Like Benedict,” Geralt agreed, making Jaskier hum. “Something else, but it’s not good.”
“Well, considering there’s a dead man in the woods outside Black Marsh, I wasn’t expecting puppies and cake.”
Geralt snorted. “Before he died, he said something about an infected vampire in the Marsh.” That made Jaskier suck in a breath Geralt knew he didn’t need. “We’re going to set up camp and keep watch. Don’t need any other innocent people wandering into the woods to become food.”
There was a long pause; long enough that Geralt could almost hear the gears turning in the vampire’s mind. Finally he responded, his voice soft. “That’s good. If it’s Benedict doing this, please stop him. The Benedict I know would never harm someone, so if it is him, he wouldn’t want to be like this.”
Geralt heard what Jaskier wouldn’t - or couldn’t - say.
Put him down .
“Consider it done.”
“One more thing, Geralt.”
“Don’t die. I’d like to present you with your reward in person.”
Maybe Geralt was imagining it, but the way Jaskier said reward felt weighter than anything having to do with money. “There’s two of us. We’ll be fine.”
“I hope so. Take care, Witcher.”
Jaskier ended the call and Geralt relayed the information. They rolled Tannyon into a tarp from Geralt’s truck and put him between their vehicles, out of direct line of sight. They didn’t have to wait long for Jaskier’s men to roll up in a large utility vehicle and with barely a word, take Tannyon’s body.
Tony, the guard Geralt had met earlier in the week, handed him a brown paper bag. “Courtesy of the boss,” Tony said with a knowing grin. “Gonna get cold tonight.”
Once they departed, Geralt pulled a bottle of very fine Toussaint bourbon out of the bag, the sight of which made Eskel whistle under his breath. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer, Wolf,” he said, handling the bottle like it was a newborn before giving it back to Geralt.
Geralt raised an eyebrow. “It’s bourbon.”
“It’s Toussaint M’terge bourbon and it’s fucking expensive as fucking hell.” Eskel eyed the bottle with an expert’s knowledge. “Almost a shame to drink it. Probably worth four or five hundred orens at least.”
Geralt frowned. “Why the fuck did he give me this?”
Eskel nudged him with a friendly shoulder. “I told you. He’s an admirer.” He hefted one bag of their gear over his shoulder and made for the treeline. “You should check his pockets when you get back, see if he’s got a White Wolf fanclub card.”
Geralt’s groan echoed around them, making Eskel laugh.
The night passed uneventfully, which was disappointing to them both. Geralt was in the mood for a good fight, particularly since he’d had a good fuck two nights prior. And no matter how much he enjoyed Eskel’s cock in his ass, they were never going to strip down in the middle of a rain-soaked forest with a rabid vampire on the loose.
They sat, they drank, they talked. They kept watch in rotating shifts. Eskel whittled like he always did when in camp; something to keep his hands and mind occupied. Better than staring out into the dark waiting to see if something’s going to try to eat you , he always told Geralt.
Geralt preferred staring into the dark. It was meditative, in a way. You could let your sight go fuzzy at the edges, deepen your breathing, let your muscles relax. So if you had to jump up and fight, it was one smooth, solid movement with a flash of blade that hopefully ended with a creature’s head rolling across the ground.
Dawn crept in slowly and unevenly. Mist roiled around their camp and Geralt could almost feel the wind trying to snake beneath his gear, like someone breathing down his neck. It was unsettling and unnatural. Eskel flickered to a quiet wakefulness as the horizon bled out with pinks and purples. “Anything?” He said, rolling over to face Geralt.
“Nothing. But still no deer, only a few birds.” He gripped his sword, feeling its weight and strength to buoy him against the unease in his gut. “We should break camp once the sun is up and see if we can trek inwards at all. Benedict’s a born vampire so he won’t be sun sensitive. But we might be able to catch him with Yrden .”
Eskel nodded thoughtfully as he set up the camp coffee maker. “Set up a tree blind, see if he stumbles into a trap? I’d say take down a deer as bait but…”
“I can stay on the ground,” Geralt said, “spill some blood and let the scent catch him. Never met a vampire able to ignore Witcher blood.”
“And I can’t say I like that plan but you’re right.” Eskel put a hand on his shoulder. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight, Wolf.”
Geralt rolled his eyes but Eskel’s concern was never something he could just shrug off. He was like that; a good friend, a good Witcher, and a good man. “Deal.”
Once dawn spilled hazy, washed-out colors across the forest, they broke camp and tramped deeper into the trees. It didn’t take long before they both caught the scent of human blood and followed it to a slow trickle of a riverbank. Torn clothing, more blood, and a trail led them north along a slippery incline. At the top of the hill was the attack site, given the dried pool of blood, claw marks on the trees, and a torn human ear on the ground.
Laying down Yrden and setting up the tree blind didn’t take long, but Geralt felt as if they should hurry. There was something about this part of the forest, where the ground felt like he was walking on dirty kitchen sponges and the air stank of death. He felt watched from all sides, even though he saw no monsters, no woodland creatures.
Hackles raised, he gave Eskel a boost up into a nearby tree and then kneeled on the marshy ground to wait.
Jaskier was antsy. Geralt had said their night in Black Marsh had been rather boring, aside from finding a victim.
A victim of Benedict’s . Even now he refused to believe it, but sometimes it wasn’t how you stumbled onto an answer, but the answer itself that was important. All the evidence so far pointed to Benedict being the one to eviscerate that man. Despite knowing him for decades, despite being his mentor and friend, some part of Jaskier had to believe it was him. Because any vampire could become what Benedict had turned into.
Born or made vampire, every single one of his species had violence at their center. They were made of needle-sharp teeth and claws that tore and a desire for blood that wiped out all higher thought and function. No matter how old, how civilized….any vampire could kill.
He had. It had been in self-defense, but he’d taken lives. And now Benedict had. Jaskier rubbed at the marks on his neck and grimaced.
Jaskier sighed and turned his head to see Raf poke his face into the office. “All right? Need anything?”
He huffed and motioned Raf inside. “Answers would be nice. A resolution would be better.”
Raf sat on the edge of one of the chairs in front of Jaskier’s desk, propping his elbows on his knees. His fastina glowed gently in the morning light, so he must have recently fed. Raf was always cautious about smelling like blood; Jaskier caught only the slightest hint of deer musk on him. “The Witcher will find him, Jask.” A wicked light glinted in his friend’s hazel eyes. “And then you can reward him.”
Jaskier groaned and tossed a pen at his head, which of course Raf caught. “It’s not like that.”
“No? Then why were you all hot and bothered after the Witcher left the other night?”
“His name is Geralt,” Jaskier replied as he leaned back in his chair, “and I wasn’t hot and bothered .” Raf only raised an eyebrow at him and stared. “Fine. You win. What am I supposed to do, ignore that there was an incredibly attractive man mere feet from me?”
His friend barked out a laugh, his expression now delighted. “If you had I would have asked if you were ill. No one was ignoring that man. Even Tony was making moon eyes, and you know he only likes bears.”
Jaskier grumbled something about Witchers and bears, making Raf laugh once more. Finally, he stood, rolling the kinks from his neck and following Raf out the door. “I need to sleep. Staying up three nights in a row isn’t going to bring Benedict back.”
Raf’s hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Go home, Jask. Rest.” And then Jaskier was being gently - but firmly - ushered out the door by his best friend. The drive home was boring, leaving him to idly flip through the radio stations looking for anything that wasn’t some obnoxious morning zoo type show. When that failed, he turned the radio off, put down the windows, and let the fall air muss his hair into a hopeless, tangled mop.
It wasn’t until he was leaning heavily against his front door and eyeing the fridge that Jaskier noticed something was wrong. Exhaustion would dull anyone’s senses, even a vampire’s. But something prickled on the edges of his awareness. A disturbance. A tremor. One ripple in his otherwise still pond.
Jaskier edged away from the door, stalking forward on silent feet, hands already balled into fists. If his heart beat, it would have been thudding in his ears, but he felt the surge of adrenaline nonetheless.
Benedict stumbled forward, black-veined and monstrously deformed, and collapsed in a heap in Jaskier’s arms.
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Part 1 of yet another series I'm starting!
This one is just gonna be fluff and comfort, little to no whump, because sometimes I just want to write about characters having a great time
This doesn't have much of a plot, it's more a collection of memories that make me happy combined with pet whump
Keaya is a pet who acts kind of like a service dog for his master whom isn't really a whumper but neither caretaker, just a pet owner
Tagging;; nobody rn
-- tw;; pet whump --
The sun was ever so slowly coming up in the distance. Keaya was the first one awake so he could make breakfast for his master. He had made a simple omelette, he knew his master Diona loved eggs, He couldn’t go wrong with that. Today would be a stressful day for her apparently. Something about a wedding, he wasn’t sure, but he knew a simple meal is best when master is stressed. He sat on his dog bed obediently, looking out the glass doors, taking in the nice view.
Keaya made sure to check the clock every now and then, he had to wake master up on time. As soon as the clock hit 12 he ran to master’s room upstairs. To his surprise, she was already awake and getting dressed. He froze up for a bit, master never woke up earlier, this was new. She had her back turned, searching through her wardrobe. He could tell she was stressed by her movements, twitchy and fast. Quietly he walked over to her and whimpered softly to get her attention.
“Hng.. Oh, hi pup. Is it 8 already?”
He nodded and gestured at the clock.
”Fuck.. Okay. I’ll be down in 5 minutes, go wait for me downstairs.”
He nodded again and left the room quietly. Master was really stressed today, he wondered where they were going. He grabbed his blanket and placed it next to master’s chair so he didn’t have to sit on the cold floor. Patiently he waited for master. The omelette smelled nice, and made it feel hungry. Maybe master would allow him to make one for himself too. When she came downstairs she was dressed in some fancy looking dress. He tilted his head in curiosity. Were they going to a party? That would explain her stress, its master got scared during parties.
Diona sat down in a hurry and quickly ate her breakfast. He gently tapped her leg whenever she started to eat too fast. It wasn’t Keaya’s first time seeing his master act like this, but it was strange seeing his usually calm master be so nervous. He rested his chin on her thigh and looked up at her, sighing. She stroked his hair and pushed some strands out of his face. That seemed to help her calm down a little.
“Today is a really important, so you need to be on your best behaviour okay?”
He nodded with a smile. It always tried to be on its best behaviour.
“Good. There’s gonna be a lot of people so you need to make sure you stay close to me.”
He nodded again as she rose from her seat. She put the dishes in the sink and started to head back to her room, pausing on the stairs.
“You can go make yourself breakfast, pup. We’re leaving in an hour.”
Excited he got up and made himself an omelette with what he had left over. While the egg was cooking, Keaya took his harness off the hook by the front door, and put it on to save master some time. Today was an important day, he had to be alert and obedient. He used a spatula to put his omelette on a slice of bread, and sat down on his dog bed to eat it. He could hear master pacing around upstairs, looking for something he assumed.
The pacing suddenly stopped, with a soft thump following. Instantly he stopped chewing and perked his ears up, listening for some form of movement. Everything was silent, that never meant good. He quickly ran upstairs to find master on sitting on the floor crying. He kneeled next to her and put his head against her chest, trying to calm her down. Once she was calmer he readjusted his position and hugged her silently.
He didn’t let go until her sniffling died down. Master must’ve been feeling very upset. He made a mental note to pay extra attention to her today. She ruffled his hair with a small smile and got back to pacing around. Keaya stayed on the floor, watching for a bit longer to make sure everything was fine, before going back down. He shoved the last of the omelette in his mouth and started to get everything ready.
First he made sure to refill her water bottle, it was gonna be a warm day today, so it was important that she had enough water on her. Then he made some sandwiches, in case she got hungry, and put them in his pouch attached to the harness. He didn’t really understand where they were going so he just packed the basic things and hoped it was enough. If there were gonna be a lot of people then it probably was a party of some sort.
He opened some of the windows and did a double check around the house to make sure nothing changed. They still had half an hour left, so Keaya took the opportunity to lay in the sun for a bit. He settled in front of the 2 glass doors, curling up in a ball. The sun felt nice and warm, he enjoyed it. He hoped he could also stay in the sun wherever they were going. Slowly he relaxed under the blanket of warm sunlight and drifted off into a light sleep.
He got woken up from his short nap by footsteps. They had 5 minutes left now, and Diona was gathering her stuff.
She clipped the leash on to his collar. He nodded excitedly. Where they were going would be a surprise to him, and surprises are fun. She lead him to the car and let him jump into the back. He liked looking out of the window while they were driving, curiously peeking at all the cars going by. The car ride was long but he didn’t care, the music playing from the radio was enough to make time pass by quicker.
Master parked the car and Keaya immediately started looking around. They seemed to be at a park, the grass fields were way bigger then the ones at home. Diona opened the door for him, letting him jump out and sniff around. A group of people further away caught his attention. They had tables standing around with tons of food, chairs in rows, lots of flowers and tons of other stuff set up. He looked at master and back the group, confused and curious.
“My sister is getting married today,” she explained. “We won’t stay long but you know how my family treats pets, so ignore anyone trying to get your attention.”
She took his leash and they walked to the wedding together. When they got closer Keaya could hear the music and smell all the food. He recognized some of the people standing around but most were strangers to him. He followed Diona and stood next to her, not really paying attention to the conversations, rather taking in the place around them. Everyone was wearing fancy clothing, while Keaya was wearing a loose t-shirt with shorts and a harness.
Master sat down at a table with her parents, he knew them, they were friendly. He obediently kneeled next to her. The grass felt nice, much nicer then a wooden floor. He would roll around in it if he could. But he couldn’t, he had to focus and make sure master was okay. It was way louder then he had anticipated, he kept looking around thinking he heard something strange, but it was hard to tell. He had to rely on sight to make sure nobody came too close to master.
He watched closely when master’s dad stood up from his chair and walked over to him with a treat in his hand. He stuck his hand out so Keaya could smell it. Gently he took the treat from his hand and chewed on it. Master’s parents always took treats with them for him, unlike most of her family who hated him. He just ignored their disgusted and disapproving looks. He knew master loved him and that’s all that mattered to him.
After what felt like ages of waiting, Diona and her parents stood up. He followed them to the rows of chairs on the other side. Everything was nicely decorated in white and pastel colors. Master sat down on one of the chairs and gestured for him to sit between her legs, which he did without hesitation. Lots of people sat down around them and the seats filled up quickly. Different music started playing, and he turned to look at master to make sure everything was fine.
People started walking down the middle, one wearing a big flowy dress. Keaya got distracted and almost didn’t hear master’s breathing starting to go faster over the loud music. He rested his head against her leg, whining softly. That was enough for her to start playing with his ears and hair, calming her down again. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch. They were sitting under the shadows of trees, making the warmth more bearable. He didn’t pay attention to the guy talking through a mic or the people cheering. He wouldn’t understand what was going on either way.
Eventually the music stopped and he opened his eyes to see if it was over. People started to get up, he looked at master to see if they were going too. She ruffled his hair and also got up. She said bye to her parents and sister before they headed back to the car. He jumped into the back as soon as she unlocked the car doors, and laid down on his blanket.
“You did really well pup,” Diona complimented. “Do you want to get some snacks at home?”
He perked his ears up and nodded with a smile. He loved the snacks they sold on the beach they lived next to. She gave him a smile back and closed the door. They took a shorter route on the way home, passing through the city. It was a lot more crowded and busy, Keaya couldn’t imagine living there with master. They both preferred the quiet beach with little to no people around. It was only really busy during the summer vacation, but that was fine for them.
Master had taken him to the city before to do shopping when it wasn’t as busy. The city was massive and a bit intimidating to him. It was too easy to get lost in all the streets. They only drove through a small part of it and were out fairly quickly. He could see the familiar hills in the distance, the ones signifying they were close to home. He got more and more excited the closer they got, he couldn’t wait to lay down and roll in the warm sand of the beach.
Once they finally arrived home Diona walked them to the beach restaurant and ordered french fries for the both of them. While they were waiting she let him play in the sand outside. He dug a hole in the sand and started to roll around in it, getting sand everywhere in his clothes and hair. He didn’t seem to mind and just shook it off before continuing. When the order arrived she called him back and they sat on a bench eating their food.
The beach was empty for the most part despite the nice weather, there were only a couple people. The sounds of seagulls flying by and the waves hitting land was relaxing. Not a lot of pets lived around beaches, he was the only one in their neighbourhood, and he felt really privileged for it. His previous owner lived in the city, and he wasn’t nearly as nice as master Diona. He enjoyed every moment he could spend outside, where he wouldn’t be reminded of the dark basement he was in for so long.
“Should we go back home, pup?” She pushed some strands of hair out of his face. “You look tired.”
He nodded, he did feel tired after today. They headed back home, which luckily wasn’t too far away, his legs had started to hurt. He immediately went to his dog bed and dragged it over to the window so the sunlight would hit it. He plopped in it and fell asleep after a couple minutes. Meanwhile Diona sat outside in her lounging chair with a drink, drawing in her sketchbook.
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Savage Grace- 710 AD; Age 29
Summary: How did Krogan find himself as an immortal? At first, being immortal is cool and fascinating for Krogan. The fact that he can survive through injuries that would kill most normal people if amusing, however, the idea of "Not Dying" becomes stale after a while. Especially with Krogan's newest babysitter, a college teacher named Viggo Maurice Grimborn II.
Warnings: Blood, graphic depictions of violence and gore
Krogan’s eyes narrowed into slits, as the man gave a soft whimper. The noise earned a loud snarl from one of the men dragging him along the ground.
“This is your fault you bastard,” One snarled, and a painful slap rammed into the back of his head. “If you would’ve gotten that egg, then maybe you wouldn’t have been in this situation!” The motion stunned Krogan, making his head brim with fuzz and shadows that danced into his vision in the form of black spots closing in around him from the edges of his vision.
The man’s eyes fluttered weakly, his head lolling to the side ever so slightly. A knife was placed to his throat, and the cold metal sent a shiver of awareness rocketing into his brain.
Krogan shot up in the two men’s grasp with a yelp, yanking his neck away from the blade, eyes wild and fearful.
“No- nono-” He started. “Please! You don’t have to listen to him! You don’t have to listen to him!” Krogan wailed, squirming in their grasp. One of them laughed, and he was slammed onto the ground harshly.
Krogan’s eyes widened slightly, his eyes shimmering brightly in the light of the clouds that covered up the sun.
“If you’re going to beg like that, then why don’t we have a little bit of fun?” One of the men whispered into his ear. Krogan’s eyes widened slightly, tears beginning to make his eyes glitter brightly.
“No!” He whined. “No, please, don- AHGHAAA-” Krogan’s words are cut off by a scream ripping from his vocal chords, as his right hand is dropped into what feels like a vat of boiling acid.
Krogan screams louder, trying to wrestle out of the grasp of the men, who are laughing hysterically at his screaming and squirming. Krogan’s cheeks heat up with a bright red flush of anguish.
Then, the liquid around his fingers is suddenly gone, and Krogan’s left clutching his hand to his chest, not even seeing the knife coming for his chest- for his heart- as he’s too disoriented.
The pain stabbing into his chest has his eyes blowing wide open. Blood splatters Krogan’s lips, crawling out of his throat in a spray of vibrant crimson.
He lays there, his heart fluttering desperately in his chest, as the knife is yanked out of his body, and blood sprays out of him.
The man tries to scream, but the noise is choked out by the blood crawling up his throat from his wound.
Fog began to cloud his mind, his head drooping to the side, before he went limp, darkness cradling his mind in gentle hands, easing him into the shadows. The gushing blood slows to a trickle, however.
The two men lift Krogan’s limp body from the ground, and head inland, into the woods, where the animals would dispose of the corpse for them.
Krogan’s eyes slowly opened at the feeling of something poking at his chest. The coppery scent of blood hangs inside his nostrils. His pupils dilated to cope with the low light, and he found a large raven pecking at his chest, crowing softly to itself, and too focused on trying to peck into Krogan’s chest to realize that the “corpse” it’d been thrown was alive.
Krogan yelled, smacking the raven away from himself, as he bolted upright onto his arms, that were barely strong enough to hold himself upright without shivering like they were made out of thin wood.
The man blinked slowly, watching the bird flap away from him, cawing loudly in surprise.
Now that he was out of danger of being pecked to death, Krogan looked down at himself.
Blood was splattered down his bare chest.
‘Where’s my shirt?’ Krogan asked himself, slightly confused. ‘And- why am I covered in…’ the memory of a knife burying itself in his chest slammed into his head, and his eyes widened in horror.
‘I should be dead! Why am I not dead! Why am I not dead why why why-’ Krogan’s breath hitches, and he shoved down a scream, instead allowing it to curl out of his throat in a strangled, cracking moan.
The man slowly rubbed his hand along his lips, his vision darkening with the fact that he found them smeared with dry, crusted blood. He’d been laying here long enough that the blood had dried on his lips and chest. Everyone in Drago’s army thought he was dead.
‘I should be dead,’ his mind was rushing at a thousand miles per hour, but, as Krogan sat up completely, bringing his hands to look at in the light, he found one of them covered in a rippled, bubbly mess of blisters. An acid burn- a very mild one, but an acid burn nonetheless.
Krogan looked up, looking around himself. The gloomy forest was silent as death itself, however, Krogan didn’t want to stay here. No, he needed to get out of here. Staying here was a death sentence, as even if everyone in Drago’s army thought he was dead, he’d still be in danger of rediscovery and he’d end up having more blood on his hands because he hadn’t died the first time, for some reason.
Krogan stood up, and swallowed. His throat tasted like blood, and his chest throbbed angrily- a gnarly scab had formed where the gaping hole in his chest had been, but it still hurt like all hel.
‘First, I have to find a dock.” Krogan thought, as he began to dart off into the forest, pain thrumming through his veins. ‘Hopefully there’s a boat docked there.’
Krogan ducked underneath a tree branch, before he paused, growling at himself.
‘No, I have to go back for my shit.’ His eyes narrowed in anger at the thought of one of those nasty monsters putting their grubby little gremlin hands on any of his items. They’d already desecrated his other shirt, so some sick fuck had to have his halberd too.
Krogan ran towards a hollowed out tree, and then shifted his body, using the tree as leverage to flip around in the air, sending him back towards where he came from. Krogan landed, and then he was running again.
Now that Krogan was in front of the base, he stuck in the shadows, watching the men mill about with a scowl on his face. He needed to wait a bit longer. Twilight was falling, and usually that meant most of the guards milling about went to the barracks, leaving him with an opening to be able to slip into the base and steal his stuff back. M<aybe with a bit more things, as he’d need supplies if he was going to be going off on his own.
So, Krogan hunkered down to wait in the trees, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could wait. That’s what the good hunter did.
Once twilight was fully upon the base, Krogan slithered out from his hiding spot, keeping his head down as he approached the gate from the side, his boots barely making any noise against the grass, as he crept up behind the guard closest to him.
He knew that he could come directly from the side with the ones with the full-headed helmets, as they had their vision blocked by them.
As he crept closer, Krogan slid a glittering blade out of his boot, the long, curved blade shining dangerously in the darkness, before Krogan lunged, wrapping an arm around the man’s throat, and a hand around his mouth so he couldn’t scream.
Then, he was dragging the struggling man back into the darkness, and slitting his throat with his knife.
He’d drawn the attention of the other man at the gate, who had his eyes narrowed at the shadows Krogan had hid himself in.
Krogan doesn’t move. He knew he had good camouflage in the darkness, but it was important that he didn’t move. Even the barest flicker of movement, and he would be shot by the guard’s Crossbow.
That’s when an idea blossomed in his head, as Krogan looked down at the dead guard’s crossbow, still loaded and ready to fire on the ground.
The guard moved closer, and Krogan snatched the crossbow from the ground, grabbing the hilt of his knife with his teeth.
He fingered the trigger on the crossbow, and then fired, sending the man dropping to the ground, a bolt embedded in his head.
Krogan looked at the crossbow, and then looked around slowly. He shrugged, and then sighed. Nope, he wasn’t going to keep bolts with him. He was better with his knife.
With that, Krogan bolted into the open gates, sticking to the shadows, as he made a beeline towards where the dead’s items were stored, so people could take them.
Krogan snuck into the building, and began to glance around idly. Weapons were lined up on one wall. Smiling, the man put his dagger away, and he sauntered up to the wall, grabbing his halberd in a pair of fond hands. He shifted it over his bare shoulder, as he glanced around, grabbing a hand axe, and a small, dragonbone shank, which he slid into his belt. Then, he looked down at his belt buckle with a scowl.
He could claw the emblem out later, sand maybe get a new belt buckle.
Krogan hummed to himself, turning around to try and find his clothes. His eyes honed in on his cloak, and a holster, made for his halberd. He snuck over, and snatched both items, as well as a silver brooch in the shape of a scarab off a table filled with jewelry, and then, he glanced around. His shirt wasn’t anywhere to find, so Krogan snatched a tunic- dark green with lighter green scales on it, and a bloody red muscle shirt.
Then, Krogan started to get dressed, taking off his belt, and shrugging on the tunic, which went down to his knees; the perfect length, thankfully. Next was the belt, and then the shirt.
Finally, Krogan pulled on his cloak, and pinned it closed.
Krogan looked around, and then blinked slowly. His eyes fluttered, and he looked down at the harness. He strapped it on under his cloak, and then slid his halberd into the holster, pulling up his hood.
The sound of boots behind him made his eyes narrow slightly, and as he turned around, Krogan spotted that it was one of the guards who had tried to kill him. A shark-like grin began to pull at his lips despite his better judgement.
Then, his halberd was out, and he was charging at the man. However, the man yelped, drawing a sword. While the sword managed to block the first strike Krogan made, the second went right through the iron of the blade, and into the man’s shoulder, severing an aorta located there.
Blood splattered against the floor, and onto Krogan’s face, as he yanked his halberd out of the man, and let him thud to the ground. He then looked around, hoping he hadn’t been seen.
With that, Krogan darted out of the room, and into the silver light of the moon, never looking back at the place he had once considered a home.
The forest hugged her leaves around Krogan’s shoulders, as he quickly moved through the forest.
‘I have to move fast. As soon as they find those bodies this entire island's going to be being scouted for the killer,’ He stepped over a vine, and then forced himself into a run, ‘I’m going to be long gone by then, too bad for them.’
Krogan’s ears perked at the sound of water crashing against the seashore. He pushed himself faster, panting, as he spotted the sight of a set of white sails over the horizon. There were signs of his freedom!
The man reached a small cliff, and he leapt off of it, angling his legs so when he landed on the dock, it was in a gentle roll.
Once there, he stood, and darted for a small ship he knew would have supplies on it.
Krogan flung himself onto the ship, slicing the ropes mooring it with a knife, and then immediately heading for the rudder.
Krogan looked back at the cliff with a frown, before he shook his head, and began to steer the boat out of the harbor.
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Can u do a scenario were Ghiaccio ends up needing Lichen to baby sit the kids, and she's just really good at it for like no reason?
(Also quick question, how old is lichen exactly)
Auntie Lichen is here!
An unexpected snowstorm hits the valley a month into springtime. Yesterday was warm, today is freezing. A foot of snow has piled onto the tender greenery.
Melone is out of commission, hibernating deep in his burrow. Prosciutto has huddled up in Risotto’s cave, kept warm by his lover’s flame. Illuso flew south to the coral reef to hang out with that giant Tidal Fury, Formaggio is struggling with hunting among the snow, Sorbet and Gelato are huddling up...
Even the Rathalos and Rathian who live nearby Ghiaccio’s den have bailed out, wrapping their wings around their nest and stoking their eggs with gentle embers. Basically, nobody can babysit for Ghiaccio.
...Except for one 85-year old witch of a Leafy IceWing, who lives and breathes the wintertime.
It’s been three days since Lichen showed up and now, Ghiaccio has come to her with his head low and his pride shattered. She lounges across a thick tree branch as Ghiaccio explains his plight to her.
“...so yea, I need to fucking hunt, and you’re the only other Northern dragon around. I’ll... fucking let you annoy me. I guess.”
“Hmph,” Lichen folds her paws atop of each other, “I’m already perfectly capable of annoying you, so you need a better price than that. Oh!” Then she slinks down the tree, her tail wrapping around the branch to anchor herself. “I have an idea~! Since you’re going out hunting, why don’t you catch a fat little piglet for me as a reward? I can never catch those squealing bacon bits on my own~”
“...and if I can’t catch one?” Ghiaccio growls, face to face with Lichen.
“I’ll settle for a sturgeon. Oooh or a pheasant!” She licks her muzzle, “Just catch a fatty meal for me, I know you can do it you fluffy little wyrm!”
“I’M NOT A WYRM!”
“Yes you are! Now off you go, you haven’t a thing to worry about with your rascals in my care.” Lichen pinches Ghiaccio’s cheek and flies off before he can smack her.
Lichen lands in front of Ghiaccio’s cave. She first sniffs the air for any sign of danger, then flicks her ears about, then finally enters the den.
Immediately, she’s greeted with Madeleine and Tatsuo running up to her and sniffing her paws. Madeleine recognizes Lichen from before, and squeaks at her in joy.
“Why hello there, little one,” Lichen lays down and reaches out to touch Madeleine, “Your daddy’s gone off to hunt, so Auntie Lichen is here to watch you.”
Tatsuo stares up at the Leafy IceWing with his big, stupidly cute turquoise eyes, begging to be picked up. Lichen sighs, “Don’t try it. I’ve seen hundreds of hatchlings and dragonets just as cute as you. You’re nothing special.”
“...oh, who am I kidding, just look at you!” She gives in and picks Tatsuo up, cradling him in her paws, “Precious little thing, you wouldn’t last a second out there in the cruel, cruel world!”
Tatsuo rolls over in her palms, peeping in happiness because Lichen’s paws have the same quality as a squishy mushroom. Her heart melts. Even the tip of her tail wags.
Madeleine chases after Lichen’s tail, babbling with sheer joy with what few words she can make. “Aaaaaabaa! Chase!”
“Yes, little one, chase it!” Lichen raises her tail and watches her jump after it like a cat, “You must learn how to hunt!” She smiles.
Lichen puts Tatsuo down and speaks to him, “I have no idea how your father keeps up with your guys’ energy, but in any case I’m impressed that he’s lasted this long.”
Tatsuo tilts his head because he has no idea what she’s saying. However, he’s interested. Lichen laughs, a noticeably less evil laugh than she would make if she’s bullying Ghiaccio, “I’ve known your father ever since I was born! He’s older than me by years, but that’s it. His brain is still as narrow as pine leaves. He should be... hm. 240 by now?”
Tatsuo tilts his head to the other side. Lichen continues, “Ah. You don’t know that Lung Dragons can live for 1,000 years? Your father has another 800 years ahead of him. I believe my kind can live only to 120 or so, ‘tis a shame we’re so short-lived compared to other dragons.”
Tatsuo makes a curious sound, maybe he does understand what Auntie Lichen is saying. “The alpha of the North, Nevicata, she’s 450 years old. I’m surprised her age hasn’t caught up to her fighting ability! ...you’re a Shikahana, and Nevicata is a Velkhana, so you should live to be about the same. Perhaps even longer if you’re lucky!” Then Lichen sighs, “Why am I even telling you this? It makes me conscious about my dulling scales.”
Tatsuo squeaks and sits on his bum, respectfully listening. Madeleine gives up on trying to kill Lichen’s tail, and joins her twin brother with sitting in front of their ‘Auntie’. Lichen huffs, a breeze of sparkling frost leaves her nostrils.
“I have 85 years worth of stories to tell, and we have plenty of time before your father comes back. So!” Lichen claps her paws with a grin, “Who wants to hear about the time Ghiaccio was almost eaten by a Barioth?!”
The twins gasp but squeal excitedly, their tails thumping against the icy ground.
They’ve got a long, entertaining afternoon ahead of them.
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🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader
—Word count: 1.9k
— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context
— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!
You were on Cloud-fucking-9.
The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.
She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.
That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.
With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.
“Surprise...?” you peeped.
Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “
“What’s all this, y/n?”
“I, uh... breakfast?”
Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”
You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.
“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”
All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.
“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”
Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.
“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”
And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.
Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.
The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.
“Look, the sun!”
You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.
“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.
You turned to her sharply.
“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”
It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.
You reached for the woman’s shoulder.
“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”
She looked unconvinced.
“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.
You had to giggle at that one.
“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”
Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.
“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”
All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.
“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”
All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.
Hilda turned to Ambrose.
“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”
Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.
“-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”
Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head. “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”
He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”
Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.
“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”
As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.
“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”
With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.
Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.
At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.
The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.
“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”
A game was now afoot.
And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.
66 notes · View notes
the annotated Tome of the Wild
Part four: Into the Night!
- The cart driver is, of course, the ubiquitous Beedle.
- Aryll is now calling the frog Ravio, after the character from Link Between Worlds.
- Mipha does indeed call Link reckless, in the “Mipha’s Touch” memory in BOTW as well as in her diary.
- Telma runs a bar in Hyrule Castle Town in TP, so naturally she’s got one here too.
- “No imps in my establishment! You're all bad luck! Harbingers of calamity!” Foreshadowing that Midna is unknowingly leading Link and Aryll to a servant of the Beast.
- “The Scholar” is Shad, a member of the Resistance in TP, who gathered at Telma’s bar. The Bean Seller is... the Bean Seller from OOT. And the Fortune Teller is of course Astrid from PH.
- Oh hey, Astrid drew the Two of Cups from her deck! A water card that, when upright, is a great portent for romantic relationships. Hmmm...
- The Highwayman, of course, is one of the Gorman Brothers, who try to rob Cremia’s cart and steal her milk in a memorable sidequest in MM. Now, in the show it’s implied, and confirmed in the comics, that the horse the brothers abscond with belongs to the Highwayman, which explains the desire to steal. So, too, is Epona the Highwayman’s horse here.
- Her eyes narrowed. “Rhoam... of course.” And we have a name drop for the woodsman, who up until now was only seen through Link’s eyes, and of course he doesn’t know the guy’s name, which means I didn’t use it. This little moment confirms that Midna and Rhoam have some past connection that isn’t friendly, to say the least.
- “You have the strangest life line I've ever seen, young man... I cannot seem to get a read on it at all.” Because he is, again, hovering between life and death in the river as this is happening.
- “On the bright side, your heart line is very promising. All signs indicate that you are a devoted and intensely passionate lover.” His love for Mipha is indeed very deep and intense, which just flusters him and reminds him again that he’s not courting her (yet) because of his fears.
- The Happy Mask Salesman, Rhondson, and Bolson, all have their services offered to him.
- She held up a card with a depiction of a bearded old man, peering out of a cave. The Hermit card, which often is depicted as an old man with a lantern. Not to mention that in the original Legend of Zelda, Link goes into a cave and gets a sword from an old man. Its meaning of isolating oneself is also a neat bonus that alludes to Link isolating himself from Mipha and all his other friends, and in a love context the card can also mean coming out of the other side of such a period of loneliness and being ready for a fresh start. It’s the reference that keeps on giving, folks.
- “So you think.” Telma shook her head slowly. “The Beast's lies are insidious, child, and will lead you down the wrong path before you realize what's happening. Listen not to him—he preys on lost, hopeless children, seeking to turn them into dekuwood trees for his lantern. Beware!” Link is gonna remember this all later during his decisive encounter with the Beast.
- “Midna?” The old man's eyes darted over to where Midna lay on the ground. “Is that—” He knows that name! But he took off before Midna got transformed, so he’s more than a little startled to hear it in this context.
- And of course, Epona is the beloved horse belonging to Link, that was first introduced in OOT.
- Cap’n and Ambi are from the Oracle games; you meet Cap’n in Oracle of Seasons, and Ambi in Oracle of Ages, and you only see them interact and learn of their love for each other in a linked game. The OTGW character that Cap’n takes the role of implies that he’s done some pretty shady stuff to get all his money, and a background of piracy would fit into that, eh?
- In the show, their goal is to steal two pennies, which is a reference to the toll required to pay Charon, ferryman of the dead in Greek myth. So here it’s two rupees.
- Fun with paintings! The three Aryll takes an interest in are of course references to other series entries. The egg atop the mountain is the Wind Fish’s egg from LA, the creepy path through dead trees is the painting that Phantom Ganon erupts from in the Forest Temple in OOT, and the painting of the broken automatons is the one on Impa’s wall in BOTW, depicting where Link fell in Blatchery Plain. You can put those all together for a double, linked meaning too: Link and Aryll are in a sort of dream they must awaken from, a deadly phantom is stalking them through this forest, and Link is having a near-death experience at the moment.
- “You haven't been any worse than this jerk I know back home.” He’s talking about Revali, of course.
- “I was in the middle of my search, wandering the woods, when I came upon a old beggar woman.” I mentioned Koume’s full title, “Good Woman of the Woods”, earlier in the tavern, and now we have Midna talking about meeting an old beggar woman in the woods. A subtle hint as to who cursed her. She is being mostly honest with Link here, she’s just omitting key information like that. Further, if you’ve read enough fairy tales, you know just HOW bad an idea it is to refuse to help the random strangers you meet by the side of the road. Bad things happen when you do that. Midna fucked around and found out, in the tradition of many unfortunate souls in the old stories.
- Link confides in Midna about his love for Mipha and what he’s been doing, revealing the existence of the mixtape that was hinted at back in chapter one, what he heard from Riju and Medli about Revali planning to ask her out, and just generally wallows in his own guilt. She gives him great advice about the situation, but sadly her own betrayal is about to temporarily undercut its effectiveness and set back his progress.
- “Detective Aryll is on the case, but you gotta give me something to work with here! Where were you on the night of—” The first appearance of her calling herself a detective, which came from Riju thanking her for helping her and Medli solve the mystery of Link’s hurtful behavior recently.
- He uncovered a plaque of his own, that read 'Captain Misko's Tea Company'. Misko is the bandit mentioned but never seen in BOTW. I felt it an appropriate first name to give Cap’n.
- “You will have to collect many of them, but I think you will find yourselves up to the task.” A reference to the message that you’ll have to collect a lot of them that pops up when you grab a green rupee in some of the games.
and that does it for part four!
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His agency was done for. Done. Just completely and utterly over. Marl Tethgers looked over the ridge down into the valley and thought if he didn’t have something more important to do right now he’d have an “accident” perfectly right here. It was only a short rocky trip down the edge before he’d be bludgeoned by the beach below and then everything would be over. All problems would be solved.
But he couldn’t. He had shit to do.
Now how in the fuck would he negotiate this?
His walkway was narrowing quite a bit and the zig-zagging of how the path was cut into the slope was tripping his vertigo hard. A few times he’d stop and rest holding himself against the slope to his left that he’d just climb down.
Just a few more feet and he’d be at the river’s edge.
Tarnished reputations. Men trying to satisfy their fragile egos. Bosses. He hated bosses. Especially right now. Bosses got to gamble away everything and left you there at the bottom rung—yeah you—having to figure out the mess. That’s what this was. Sending him on a goddamned fact finding mission to look at a fucking spaceship of all things.
He could still be forking through all of this terrain for absolutely nothing too. He was over it. He hated being there.
He figured once he got down to the river he’d take a big break. He owed that to himself. He could eat the hamburger he’d been saving all morning—an act he felt proud of. Maybe smoke a little. Then before long be back on his merry way. As far as these missions went this one wasn’t all that bad even though he wanted to be home.
He finally hit the water. Ahh. Felt good.
Took a nice big deep swell of the fresh air. Ah so clean.
Arched his neck down at the water.
His reflection undulated and rippled the edges of his outline which made him look incredibly frightening. Man even like an alien. All wobbly and distorted and black and gray and with glowing eyes… Hold on—glowing eyes.
As Marl considered the question he raised his head and felt a leathery gray hand with fingers long like tentacles curl over his right shoulder. It was almost like a horror movie scene but before he could look back and say something stupid his body checked out hard and he fell forward face first into the beach.
It was later and the sun shone in his eyes. His face was flecked in sand particles and leaves. He tried to move but couldn’t. He looked to see his hands tied to a tree. He struggled but couldn’t and instead for some reason he tried to call out for help.
No you idiot. It might make them come back.
I know. I’m just panicking.
In front of him was a ship. It was about 20 feet long and seemed made out of metal. It was triangular in shape. And was docked to the ground as opposed to hovering which he found rather odd but then again his real extent of UFOs was pretty much YouTube videos and TV shows. He’d never actually read a book on the subject. He tried to once when he first started out with the society. On the ninth page he was done. Couldn’t get into it—which would’ve said something to most people. But Marl here wasn’t most people.
Now he was tied to a tree in the middle of the woods seemingly being abducted by an alien life-force.
He was every way scared and every single horrible thought he could think of hit him all at once. He tried to block them out—the probing, the being dissected, being cooked, human zoos. He was losing his shit. Literally. Nothing like being tied to tree after messing your pants. It didn’t feel good and he felt very pathetic in that moment. One of the things you would keep out of the story when you made it back—if you made it back. He was getting ahead of himself. He needed to find a way to get out of his bonds and make a break for it. They didn’t feel like any crazy alien-tech-type shit. They almost felt rubbery like a band of some kind. Like an exercise band. The ones people use to stretch with. Look it up.
Hot damn! If that was all it was then he could make the slip easily and hopefully before predator came back and turned him into a human trophy.
He strategized the best way free himself was a good old wiggle—and he started to, twisting and turning the night away as best he could. It became intense. A full on gyration at one point. He wiggled his little heart out until he couldn’t anymore. He took a few deep breaths.
Thought he’d give it another try. If the last wiggle episode lasted not that long his second attempt lasted a third of that time. He was tired and out of shape and needed a cola.
His eyes danced around like slot machines. He scanned over everywhere. Nothing. No one. He was screwed. Effectively.
But he needed to get his ass in gear here. Time to figure a way and make a break now.
Marl had 15 different options working against him in varying ways of expediency and/or lack of. He was tied to this damn tree and unless he had a way of moving it he was going to have to look for a way of getting loose of this exercise band.
Think Marl think. C’mon old man you can do it.
Jezus Christ yea right bro. You couldn’t get yourself out of a paper sack with a hole in it. You think you can thwart the design of an intergalactic intelligence now. Tall order bro.
I got to do something.
The fuck. Was. That?
Marl we’d like you to follow us.
I would if I could but I’m stuck—
Stuck. No you’re pig-tied to a tree getting sap all of over you.
Would you shut up. Did you hear that voice?
Yeah. Who the fuck was that?
I don’t know.
While Marl’s thoughts were swirling he again began the forbidden dance of gyration/wiggling on the tree. This time he was going to do it though the back chaffing he was starting to feel was not helping him at all.
Valentines Day is coming up.
Ok can we just work together please.
Marl lumbered and he sweated and he wiggled. Boy surely he did.
It would’ve been quite the sight to see and he would’ve welcomed the chance to frighten hikers if they were to pass this way, is how desperate he was at this point flailing and struggling like a mackerel caught on a fisherman’s line.
What was that?! he both looked and said at the same time.
Up the tree no higher than the first meaty looking branch was the tiniest woodpecker he’d ever seen in his entire life. It tapped again and again and he felt the pinging in his head. Wishing that thing would shut up and fly away the perfect idea—one that would totally work and be his ticket out of here—struck him instead. And then a big ass acorn did.
He felt woozy and his head fell forward as he clinged to consciousness wondering about the size of that acorn. More importantly he was wondering about the brilliant idea he just had—would it work? And what the hell was it again?
Shit. He lost it. All thanks to that goddamned acorn. He looked at it gaining his bearings again.
Something strange about this acorn he thought.
It was darker first off. It was far more egg-shaped than your typical acorn. He wasn’t quite sure if acorns could grow to be about the size of a bowling ball like this one. It seemed to be made of leathery material and scaly which again he was no expert but surely couldn’t be right. No if he were to make an educated guess he would’ve said this was actually some type of egg. Maybe though. I mean what type of animal could lay an egg like that—
And then it hatched.
His look of "oh shit!" was one of the more expressive and depressing in the history of people giving oh shit looks. It wasn’t like my god he proposed; more like a shit I cut too much off.
He had more than enough reason to be. Things had definitely taken a turn.
The leathery egg shell split in random shapes and as they fell away from the structure they broke free from they tethered back to it in goo that looked like maple syrup with cat hair in it.
Echoing the fears of many in similar situations Marl’s first thought was panic that this thing was a velociraptor.
He’d been deftly afraid of dinosaurs from a young age. He thought it was because he almost choked on a brontosaurus toy when he was younger but his mother of course objected to that because it was actually a toy car.
Either way this could go multiple ways of bad if what was hatching from this egg was anything other than a sweet magical unicorn—all though their horns are sharp.
Hey it’s almost Valentines Day
Would your shut up about that? Why would I care whether or not it’s Valentine’s Day? I got bigger problems. Understand?
I’m trying to help you.
With what? Valentine’s Day. How?
His last Valentine’s Day was spent wondering the deep bowers of the local supermarket for chocolates. He was there with his lady of course so it would be an even more expedient gift exchange. Surfin Safari played over the PA in a rare muzak version. It still had that flat feeling to it. Like looking at the 4th version of a picture of the galaxy out of a toner-challenged photocopier.
He was there for what seemed like eons. They’d run into the mayor of Cordelia the small town he lived in which was not far from where he was tied to that tree.
He remembered how funny it was when the mayor paid for their drink and didn’t leave a donation when asked as he ran his card. Shouldn’t politicians be aware of how that could look? Doesn’t that kind’ve hint at privilege? Maybe in his mind he was insecure about his role in society and felt it wouldn’t be seen as being authentic. More than likely he didn’t care. Why was that sticking with him now?
What is so important about him? Where was this train of thought heading if not off a cliff into looney land?
The dude wore a ball cap. Nothing odd about that. Had a trout sewn onto the front. He did look like a fisherman in how he stood. Kind’ve hunched but still and straight enough. Like it was easy for him to stand like that for long periods of time. Oh yea he was carrying a book. What was the name of it again? They were talking about it. It was what’s her name’s favorite story.
The pea-sized gears in Marl’s head started churning very slowly.
They looked like he did when getting out of the bed every morning. Groaning, pained and holding their lower back while letting out huge exasperated breaths. Sometimes tripping over themselves and hitting the ground causing a compound fracture in his right forearm.
The name of the book? It was geriatric. Old novel. Written by that one guy—the great American author named after a town in England.
He began blurting out the names of English towns. Or towns he thought were in England including New England.
He then devolved into characteristics from movies set in England like the fact that it always seemed foggy over there. He thought of Piccadilly Circus. But no the guy’s name was not Piccadilly anything. Fog made him think of something which brought him back to the ever-hatching egg in front of him. What if this thing was a werewolf?
` Did werewolves have baby werewolves via egg, he wondered. Was that even a thing or was he mistaken (not shocking). They were people first so it must be passed through the bloodline and it’s like a human born with a trait. Oh like in Teen Wolf. Or An American Werewolf in—LONDON!! Hot damn—JACK LONDON!! That was the name of the author. The book was Call of the Wild. Of course.
He was elated and felt himself lifted by a heavenly cloud and bathed in beautiful celestial light. Tears fell down his cheeks and he let out one of the top 5 best smiles of satisfaction known to Man. He looked radiant and felt even so.
Call of the Wild. Ah satisfying… Now what the fuck does that mean?
Panic dropped on him like a cord-cut elevator. He had no idea why that was supposed to be helpful to him. The vibrant color washed away from him. The radiant light he bathed in shut off with a wheeze and a cough. He was no longer floating. In fact with his luck you could say he was actually now sinking. And sure enough that’s what was slowly going on.
Quicksand wasn’t something a 40 year old male rarely prepares himself for. Even one with such an exotic title of Lead President of UFO sightings. His title was admittedly not really thought out. He put the “Lead” in the title. For a human who’s intelligence was made up of pop culture facts and history and a passion for bringing pogs back to prominence along with the sophisticated palette that could tell you when the whopper was seasoned proportionately with the dressing boy he’d sure been asleep on this one. How the hell did one get one out of quicksand? After of course becoming untied from a tree? If of course the werewolf velociraptor egg hatching in front of him could somehow be avoided?
Marl realized in that moment he did not know much. He did know one thing: he needed a cola. Badly.
So when last we left Marl he was in quite the prick-tickler: tangoing with death in varying ways with two left feet and the mental capacity of a battery.
Marl had felt challenged at times in his life sure just like everyone did. But this was about five townships beyond his wheelhouse and he was starting to feel as though he was licked good for sure here. Old Marl was getting uncomfortably close to having a powwow with his maker unless he could somehow shake anything from that ever-barren fruit tree of a brain trust he’d relied on over the course of his almost four decades on this planet.
Something about that book. Call of the Wild. And how would he break free of the exercise band or whatever it was. Calling on his keen strategy he deduced that getting himself untied was the first order of business. The quicksand would work itself out later. The creature birthing in front of him he’d table for the moment but respond to in due time.
Call of the Wild.
How could that help? He needed peace and quiet. He needed to meditate on that. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He felt himself pulling back from his own body like light fading into darkness. He felt his mind stabilizing. The chattering was identifiable and distinct and punctuated by growing patches of silence. He was getting there slowly but surely. He was being escalated in spirit up a large mountain capped in snow but it wasn’t cold it was soft and furry and felt like gold if gold felt like warm butter which is what it feels like. It wasn’t oily. It was only magnificent. This was it. He was here. The top zone. Nirvana. Enlightenment. Here it came. He felt like he was light.
Holy fucking shit, he sang.
He thought he saw cotton candy clouds part. As they did an angel—the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—looked down upon him and reached towards him with the ethereal hands of a goddess. They glowed and somehow still looked like they were back lit. The lighting was something out of a hallmark movie. And there it went—he touched her hand and his skin sizzled with glee and he felt himself embraced in a cloudy snuggle which felt like he was being hugged by 20 puppies all at once. The angel lady in all her beauty lowered her head to his and puckered her lips. Here he was—he wasn’t just achieving enlightenment he was going to straight up French kiss it. He readied and she came closer and he smiled and—
Nirvana folded up and left faster than a sketchy-looking travelling circus and Marl’s eyes shot open as he felt himself instantly transported back to where he was. He had problems he could see that were not held up on him zoning back to make out with angel babe. That baby was a-comin’.
His rapid response was to kick the egg away which could’ve helped if his legs weren’t now submerged in quicksand. Back to the drawing board. Untie himself.
How would he do that—tatatatatatatatatatat! That damn bird. Ttatatatatatatatatatat! Could he shut the fuck up so Marl could think? Tatatatatatatataatatatatatatatatat!
Hot damn! Marl had himself an idea. Like a light bulb in his head. Or a sparkler. What about getting that damn woodpecker to cut off the band around his hands? Shit it would be perfect.
For some reason he thought of The Eurhythmics hit ‘Walking on Broken Glass’ in that moment. Crap what he would do for some broken glass right now?
Anyway that woodpecker would be perfect if he could peck the wood perfectly where he was tied. He wouldn’t even be able to repeat that back to himself but he still had an innate sense of the idea. Now how does one call a woodpecker exactly?
Too complicated for the brain trust who was almost flummoxed by tinker toys growing up.
How about whistling? There you go.
He started to whistle at the bird. The bird didn’t care and after a while started jackhammering the wood. After a moment further Marl’s whistling and the pecker’s wood hammering were combining into a very catchy beat. Exasperated Marl gave up. He was done for. Poor old Marl.
In a lot of ways Marl should not have been in this predicament or in this place for that matter. The only reason a Lead President would get sent on a field assignment in the UFO hunting trade would be lack of funds and they were bleeding out like a stuffed pig. Marl had to do a lot of the work himself in order for publication to happen which wasn’t a guarantee. The magazine they would publish with all of their findings had seen its circulation dwindle from daily to monthly and finally choked its way down to quarterly.
They had a website now defunct after the web tech bolted. The company was really just him and three other people—one his co-captain who was the reason for the magazine losing business (he became too political as they put it) and two younger guys who really had no idea what they were supposed to do and mainly did shopping and food runs or procured office supplies when needed. They proofread each issue before it was published too. That would only take a couple of slow hours.
Their intrepid UFO hunter was not Marl. That belonged to Sky Johnson. Sky Johnson had been following UFOs for years since he was a kid and he and his dad Buck saw one. They listened to radio signals from the sky. Tracked down leads. For the years Sky was associated with them the magazine was hot shit.
Then Sky disappeared.
After that the stories stopped and so did the interest. Sky was never found and his stuff became that of urban legend. The magazine was accused of pulling it as a stunt. An investigation ensued.
By the end of the whole ordeal the magazine was DOA. This was Marl’s last big chance to see the last 15 years of his life not wasted and going down the drain. Unfortunately he had failed. And he had failed big time.
Sky would’ve known how to get out of this. Sky would’ve never gotten into it in the first place. The egg cracked loud and it sent Marl back to his present reality. It vibrated and another piece cracked wide open. Marl watched in horror. A winding leg shot out from the egg and touched the ground. To Marl the leg looked like a black tent pole and collapsed like one as it crooked and set its foot (?) onto the dirt.
Marl now horrified started fighting again hoping to get out of his restraints. Now more tent pole legs were emerging from the egg all originating from a point within the egg where the body would be located. Then that emerged.
Marl sat for a solid minute looking at the thing trying to figure out how to even believe this was real.
Thing. That’s sure as hell what it was. A spidery-looking thing that was black as pitch with hard leathery shells on its back. It had a face and it had fangs above teeth and he thought about how not nice it would be looking out from the back side of those teeth after becoming a meal. Oh it was extremely aggressive. It roared terrifyingly loud and small sounding like a small dog when it tries to growl. It’s hi-pitch hi-toned. Marl was getting deeper in the shit.
He was tied to a tree sinking in quicksand with a crazed alien spider baby eyeballing him for lunch. He needed something right now. Nothing short of an act of god was going to help him. Good ol deux ex machina would hit the spot.
The spider baby recoiled getting ready to pounce at Marl’s neck. It readied, steadied and shot—
It was in Marl’s mind that he saw the image of this wildlife magazine photo he’d seen once of this innocent mother deer surrounded by a pack of hyenas looking at its children who its sacrificing itself for who’ve just escaped. She looked in the moment when the photo was snapped with a hyena inches away from biting her neck so graceful and at peace with what was to come. Marl thought of himself now in that regard and tried to mimic it as best he could. He was that poor deer he told himself. Here it came.
But it didn’t. The was a blast. Marl didn’t want to open his eyes and see it. Metal became unsheathed somewhere and clanged hard against something. The tree shivered then the exercise band fell free along with Marl’s hands and he sunk into the quicksand instantly like flushed shit.
Globs and globs of sand got into his face and eyes. He bobbed around becoming submerged and feeling himself floating down. He felt something grab his outstretched arm and tug it. He felt himself being pulled and the quicksand became like water and sand being dumped on your head. He didn’t worry—whatever was grabbing him felt smooth. Actually it felt human to be honest. He managed a smile—then his hand slipped and he felt lost again. The slush started moving differently running up and not down. He was sinking.
Enough with this he thought. I’m just going. He stopped fighting and let himself sink like a stone.
But it wasn’t going to let him go and like most things tend to do this wasn’t going the way Marl thought it was going to. He felt himself being pulled again. This time even harder and faster. It was like the quicksand was draining away from him now.
Before long he could feel himself back in the light breathing clean air, completely saturated in quicksand and mud. Hands and arms dragged him and settled him onto the solid ground where he was lying out feeling the sun. He had been saved. Saved by who though?
Thought I was goner said Marl.
Thought you were too.
Marl’s eyes opened in disbelief. He looked up at the form standing over him.
Like angel babe but in real life Sky seemed to emerge from the rays of the sun crouching down in front of Marl. He looked angelic. His eyes were beaming.
I’m back old friend.
Wha-what happened to you?
At that moment Sky told him they’d have to wait until later. In the meantime Sky would get Marl out of here. There would be many many people who would want to know what Sky knew. Good and bad people. He and Marl would have their work cut out for them scout’s honor Sky had said.
For more info about what Sky said see it in our next issue of Sightlines, the leading publication about UFOs and other strange sightings!!
I read my first oviposition fic last week and I was surprised at how much I liked it. Then I went down the rabbit hole and I think I have a new kink so. There's that. Would love to see you write a fic where Geralt tricks Jaskier into being raped by something with an ovipositor. Maybe after J has to incubate them for a bit & he's so stuffed & uncomfortable & G is just so turned on and can't stop mocking him. After Jaskier finally lays the eggs, Geralt can just slide right into his fuckhole
I hope you like it a bit longer because this is over 3k, so uh hope you enjoy :)
When Geralt had told him that he got a contract for a rare and practically unheard-of monster, Jaskier immediately agreed to join him. He ignored all of Geralt’s protests that it was dangerous and that he might not even be able to best it but that did little to waver his excitement to see something new and powerful and will earn him a cozy winter in a noble’s palace when he writes a song for it.
Geralt is insistent though, and just gets grumpier and more bothersome the longer Jaskier says he plans on coming along, so he gives in, tells Geralt that he will stay back on the promise he gets the most detailed recounting of events and the witcher just snorts as he nods his head yes.
It’s enough for Geralt, who the next day simply gives him a warning not to leave the makeshift camp as he heads into the woods. Jaskier probably waits all of a minute before he’s following after Geralt, did he really think he would just sit around and miss this once in a lifetime monster? His witcher was a bit dimmer than he first thought, but oh well, it helped him out now anyway.
It’s almost too easy to follow Geralt’s trail deeper into the woods and he can’t help but scoff when tonight over dinner he’ll tell Geralt off for how obvious his tracks are, how a child off the road could follow his steps and get caught in a monster blood bath. Overall, not a good picture or outcome for said child or Geralt, the fact that it’s all hypothetical is irrelevant, it could happen so that was that.
Jaskier groaned when the solid forest floor turned damp and soggy and started to soak into his shoes, his feet sticking a little more into the ground with every step until he was hopping around trying to stick to firmer ground, he will definitely be telling Geralt off for not warning him about the swamp part.
He didn’t notice that Geralt’s tracks had stopped, or the movement that just skimmed the nearby water’s surface as he tried to figure out a way to get out of this swampy hell hole.
When something brushed against his leg he jumped, but when he looked and saw nothing, he penned it off as an errant bush, despite the fact there was none around. When it happened a second time, this time stroking up his thigh, Jaskier froze, but again saw nothing and was half tempted to call out for Geralt. He was just about to turn back and find a way around when something grabbed his ankle and pulled him up into the air.
Something caught his head before it smashed into the ground, but he was too busy screaming to notice as he felt more things touching him, skirting under his shirt and trouser legs that left him wrestling to break the monster’s hold as he screamed for it to stop, screamed out for Geralt, for anyone to help him.
His cries were answered by the monster stripping his clothes off and leaving them tattered on the forest floor before it forced his legs open wide, leaving him vulnerable and exposed as his wrists were held up so it could continue to stroke and suck at his skin. The tentacles, because that’s the only word he could use for them, suckled at the skin on his abdomen, causing the skin to bruise a deep red and purple already as they moved up to latch onto his nipples.
His attempts to try and break free were stopped by something slick and warm enveloping his cock, causing his back to arch into the monster's hold and the creature to hum in pleasure, a sound more terrifying than anything else as it shook the trees and echoed around the empty forest.
The most terrifying part was that his back was to the creature, he hadn’t even seen it yet, and yet he was being forced to spread his legs wide under its scrutiny. For half a moment he dared to dream that this was it, that some horny tentacle monster had grabbed him just to get him off for its food or something, before leaving him to try and run back to camp and not be the creature’s dinner as well.
Apparently, that thought was nothing but a dream as he felt something begin to tease at his hole and then something thin and long slipped inside and far too deep as it stroked inside him. He felt something squirt inside of him that was both hot and cold at the same time, that had him shifting in the creature's hold, to pull away or force the tentacle deeper he didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. Even when he clenched around it just so he could enjoy the way it filled him up, he swore he could feel it in his throat for the god’s sake, but that would stay with him to the grave.
He didn’t notice when the smaller tentacle slipped out, he just tried to enjoy the tight, wet heat around his cock to ignore how empty he felt, how he felt his hole twitching as if trying to clench around something that wasn’t there, yet.
He only realized he was whining when the creature pulled away from his cock, leaving just his legs and arms held firmly in place, how he couldn’t stop the small whimpers that escaped his throat as he realized how empty and desperate he was. So desperate he couldn’t even pretend to be disgusted when he looked down and saw his cock hard and leaking, could just tug at the arms holding him to try and spur the creature into action.
Thankfully, he was saved from outright begging the monster to fuck him as he felt something thick tease at his hole, pushing in a bit before pulling away, and rationally Jaskier knew he should be scared because he could swear it was the size of his wrist, never mind the fact that it was a monster fucking him. Yet even then he found himself letting out small whimpers and tried to move in the creature's hold and closer to its cock? Tentacle? Whatever it wanted to fuck him with, he was desperate for anything at that point.
He could have cried when slowly the tentacle, definitely a thick and impossibly long tentacle, slowly pushed into him, rattling his breath as it pushed deeper and deeper that he could feel it bulge his stomach. He wanted to touch it, to feel the heat of it through his skin and the way it pulsed, barely restrained from fucking straight into him, but his arms remained bound because he knew if he felt it, he would be gone, ruined for anyone, well anything, else and running through the woods trying to be a monster’s bitch wasn’t exactly a well-paying job.
For a long moment, nothing happened, and he was partly grateful because it allowed him to catch his breath, to clench around the creature's tentacle and truly feel it stuck deep inside of him when suddenly it moved, just a small thrust out, then in, that had all the air rush out of him, only to choke himself on the next breath when it sank back in again.
He couldn’t say how long it went on for, just that it was the most beautiful and agonizing torture, that he could come just like this if the monster moved a little faster, and he wasn’t afraid to beg for that now, eager instead to be a nice little toy for the monster as long as he could just come, and a couple of times after that for good measure.
When he felt a bulge at his hole, he assumed the monster was fucking deeper into him and he briefly thought of what it would be like for the tentacle to push all the way through him until it was choking him at the back of his throat, not mentioning how thick it would be in his ass. Now he really couldn’t hold back his shout as his cock twitched and spurted out come in front of him, unable to keep the dopey smile off his face as the monster fucked him through it, and he couldn’t even be upset when his cock stayed flushed and hard against his belly, if anything it just made him more desperate for the monster to just take so he could get off and be left weak, and messy, and dripping in come.
Only once the hazy bliss of his orgasm left him and he could focus on the tentacle still fucking him impossibly deep, he realized the weight he felt at his hole was now thick and heavy inside him, threatening to spill out of the monster’s tentacle, and gods Jaskier wanted to hold his stomach when it happened, but he felt the tentacle give a rough thrust and a growl from the monster behind him before the thing forced its way into him.
It was a solid weight inside of him that he could feel with every breath, hell he’s sure if the tentacle weren’t filling out his belly, the object would, and the feeling of it in him would get him off if his attention weren’t distracted by a second weight at his hole. He relaxed as much as he could to help the monster get it in him faster, clenching here and there when it seemed as if it got stuck to try and help it along, and he could swear he heard the monster purr every time he did. He was just trying to keep some control and not come on the spot.
He let out a groan when the second object slipped into him, pushing up against the first and it felt like when he would go to a banquet and gorge himself too much, a pleasant fullness, and yet there was always room for a bit more.
With a muttered swear he felt a third object, smaller than the first two, slip easily past his hole quickly followed by a fourth and a fifth and he held his breath as he felt them move through him before all three were fucked into him with one hard thrust, Jaskier letting out a broken moan at the feeling whilst his cock spurted his second orgasm over the forest floor.
He supposed he should be suspicious by the fact his cock was still hard and eager to get off for a third round, but he couldn’t find it in him to care as he panted and let the monster fuck a sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth egg into him. At least he was fairly sure they were eggs, and he would happily let the monster fuck all its spawn into him now and worry about the consequences later when he wasn’t so dizzy with arousal.
Now he was sore and his belly cramping, when he looked down it was stretched, swollen, and looked a little bruised too, as if he were a woman counting down till her water broke, and yet he was even bigger than that, just slightly, but a tenth egg teasing at his rim, the biggest yet would change that.
He felt the monster fuck and push, and struggle to get the egg past his rim and they both let out a noise when it did, Jaskier letting out small whimpers as he felt it stretch him open and make space for itself deep in his guts, but even then, the monster struggled to get it out, letting out another growl as it fucked a bit harder, more desperately into him until finally it caught and in one smooth thrust was forced deep into the nest of eggs already inside of him.
For a moment he had to stop himself from gagging purely because he felt too full, his stomach now starting to cramp in pain as it strained under the nest, and yet when he felt another egg rest just outside his hole, clearly the biggest yet given how it felt the size of his fist, he was already drooling over the idea of it settling deep into him.
The monster struggled with it for several long minutes, no matter how Jaskier relaxed or tried to grind back onto it seemed futile, and the monster was growing agitated too, just as desperate to get it in him.
So, when Jaskier tugged his right arm in its hold with a whine and a plead to “Lemme go, wanna help” the monster released his arm which immediately fell to his swollen belly, feeling how big and heavy it was and that if he pushed down hard enough he could feel the eggs filling him, and it took every effort not to come for a third time then and there.
It was easy to slip his hand back behind him and feel the egg stretching out the tentacle, how the monster was still giving small thrusts in the hope it could get it in and Jaskier couldn’t help but squeeze it, feel the size of it before it settled deep inside him, bigger than his fist apparently.
After he’d had his fun, mostly because it would be a lot more fun getting the egg inside him, he teased his fingers at his rim, still slick and messy from the first tentacle and even given the girth of the monster he managed to coax in one and then two and three fingers alongside it, the stretch just on the side of too much.
It didn’t matter though because it had done the job, hooking one finger in his hole just to stretch it out a little whilst the backs of his fingers teased the egg still edging around his hole, until with a couple of more rough thrusts the monster finally gets to fuck it into him.
It feels like an age before the egg is at the tip of the tentacle, having spent most of the time with a loose fist around his cock as he felt it edge closer and closer, his breath hitching as it did so until he stopped just as it came to rest at the tip. The waiting was torturous, like waiting to be announced the winner at a competition, and the monster seemed eager to wait it out now that it knew it could force the egg into him.
Jaskier was sure he must make a messy and desperate picture, half panting and drooling as he waited for it to slip into him properly and finish his brood, to feel the ache of them stretching him impossibly wide, and he’s sure once the monster is gone that he’ll strip his cock a few times before he’s done.
Eventually, the monster has wasted enough time and ever so slowly forces the egg to slip into his belly, drawing the feeling out so that when it finally did pop out and settled nicely but heavily with the rest of the nest, Jaskier didn’t need the hand on his cock as he shook through his third orgasm.
After that everything happened quickly, the monster fucked him quick and hard for a few seconds and he felt the eggs shift painfully with every thrust, but even so, it made his cock, finally going down, twitch in interest.
Then it squirted something inside him, filling in the gaps between the eggs as it let out a roar behind him. He should be scared, but carrying its brood as the tentacle slowly slipped out of him, still dripping liquid, he’d never felt safer.
He was carefully put down on his hands and knees, a good thing because he’s sure his knees would have buckled both from the mindless orgasms and the weight uncomfortably filling out his belly. He didn’t hear the monster slink away, he just knew that he was alone and sure enough when he looked, it was gone, nothing but his heavy breathing and his slowly increasing panic at the realization of what happened and that he had fucking monster eggs inside of him.
At least that was until the sound of heavy footfalls walking towards him, and he wanted to be scared, he was heavy with eggs and defenseless, hoping the monster would return to look after its brood, and yet it made no move to intercept whoever was there.
A quick glance showed that it was Geralt and he visibly relaxed, Geralt would know what to do, how to help, so what if he’d been late to the rescue, he was here now.
“Should have seen yourself Jaskier, never seen anyone that eager to get bred. How many did it get in you?”
Jaskier whimpered when Geralt crouched beside him, a firm hand going to his belly and easing the pain slightly so that he completely glossed over the fact that Geralt was there and watched him get attacked, hadn’t even raised a sword to help him. “Eleven”
"Beautiful, Jaskier, want to see your belly swollen with a brood all the time” Jaskier should be scared, especially as Geralt moves behind him, hands never leaving him and instead presses soothing circles along the small of his back, but the more worrying thing is that he wants to do what Geralt said, wanted to be ass up and get bred “Probably got about ten minutes left till the toxin in you wears out, so just stay there and look pretty while I have a go”
Jaskier groans when he feels Geralt’s fingers slide down and easily slip into his hole, still stretched and slick from the tentacle, and at the feeling of being fucked again his cock twitches in interest. The idea of a toxin is worrying but it can’t be that bad if Geralt’s going to fuck him through it.
Geralt gets two rounds out of him before Jaskier’s body starts to ache, and really ache, the hazy arousal that had stuck with him since the monster left was fading and he could feel himself whimper in pain not only at his stretched belly, at the idea of monsters hatching inside him, and Geralt brutally fucking into him and promising “Just a little longer, ‘m so close, almost finished" before filling him up with come for the third time that had tears edge his vision because his stomach is too full, feels as if it will quite literally burst, but then Geralt is there shushing him.
He doesn’t know whether Geralt thinks he's under some sort of drug and can't understand him, but Jaskier is becoming painfully aware with each passing minute, and cries whilst Geralt praises him for following him into the forest, right into the monster lair as he had planned and so eagerly offered to carry its brood. He shook and balled his fists to overcome the wrack of pain from his stomach when Geralt told him it would be hours before he could get the eggs out, and afterward, he’d feel so empty that he’ll be sobbing to get onto Geralt’s dick, and as Jaskier’s best friend he’ll happily oblige.
Jaskier doesn’t hear when Geralt talks about another lair half a kingdom away, a rare species that will probably keep him in its nest for days as it stuffs him full of eggs over and over and over. Jaskier just lets another wrack of pain shiver over his body and tries to ignore the way the eggs and Geralt’s cock shift inside him.
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Guild Hunter Sojan Part 6
I really should make myself a posting schedule. So here we are with the next part. We have some examinations, some new findings, a small lead to what is up and Lyran shamelessly flirting with Sojan over the kitchen counter. Yes, he has no shame and knows what he wants. I love this idiot.
Warning for mentioning of dead bodies, examination of dead bodies, blood
As always more under the cut @adie-dee @vivian-is-writing @cometworks
Warmed up with hot tea and a fortifying snack, all participants now stood around the tables that had been pushed together and on which the dead monsters lay. Marilka had laid out everything with old cloths and warned urgently not to make the common room dirty.
Everyone had used the break to change clothes after the fog had settled into everything like something alive. Even Lyran stood there with the simple shirt just thrown on quickly and a new pen in hand.
"Are you sure you want to be there?", Elaven asked the bard.
Lyran cocked his head to the side, visibly offended.
"That monster tried to kill me, so I want to know what it is. Don't worry, I'm not as sensitive as I look. Besides, someone should take notes on what you discover, and as a bard, I'm practiced at writing quickly and neatly."
"He has a good point," Neeshah admitted in surprise.
To Sojan, it didn't matter who all was standing there. He was just glad Duran was getting the rest he needed. It wouldn't be surprising if the young man slept through until the next morning.
Elaven and he rolled up their sleeves and picked up the fine scalpels. Practiced and careful, they cut open the hybrid.
Up close, the blending between bird and tadpole was even more obvious. What should have been lateral fins were wings that felt like the feathers of ducks or other waterfowl. It had the eyes sideways like a chicken and crippled beginnings of claws under the tail fin. How this creature could live at all was a mystery to him, especially where it was as large as a full-grown human female.
"That's interesting," Chanan leaned past Elaven.
"What do you see?"
"Here, look at this."
She picked up another scalpel and pointed to what must have been the digestive tract. Slowly, she pushed the tangle aside. Sojan immediately realized what she meant.
"That can't be."
"Would someone enlighten me?" asked Lyran.
He stretched across the table but couldn't see anything from where he sat.
"The hybrid doesn't have facilities for reproduction like the water terrors, nor like the Putrivine. It should actually lay eggs of some kind. But this is a womb."
Chanan, Yunadeldi, and Lyran drew in their breath sharply.
"This creature reproduces like us?" inquired Yunadeldi with disbelief in his voice.
"That's what it looks like. But at the same time, it has gills," added Sojan.
For seconds, the sound of Lyran's pen on paper was the only thing in the room.
"This is getting weirder and weirder," Elaven leaned closer.
Sojan stepped next to him, trying to figure out what the other was seeing. Elaven made a motion with his index and ring fingers, and the next moment the innards flared up. Smoke rose and bit into his nose and throat.
"Damn, what was that?" cursed Chanan loose and ran to the window.
"That thing was created with magic, that's what it was. The flame glow says it all."
The ghostly glow of the unnaturally dark flame made his words seem even more menacing.
"Do the same test with the water terror," Lyran suggested.
Sojan merely nodded. He had had the same thought. Elaven repeated the gesture at the water scare. Again, the result was that a dark flame appeared, and acrid smoke arose.
Neeshah stepped further from the other side. Her gaze went from the dead monsters up to Sojan.
"Have you ever seen such magic before?"
"Never, and that worries me. It's not human, and it's not demonic."
"As the tree spirits said," Elaven interjected, "Now we know what they meant by it."
Like lightning, an idea came to Sojan. He cut the fin off the water terror and was halfway out the door.
"Where are you going?" shouted Neeshah.
"Shununda. She might be able to help us."
"Great, leave us the fucking cleanup."
He smiled apologetically and was out on the street. The shaman didn't live far away, but if his suspicions were correct, she was just their best chance to get to the bottom of everything.
Hastily, he knocked on the front door before entering. There had to be that much decorum despite the rush. Shununda was sitting on her seat cushion as usual, looking at him as if he were a naughty boy.
"Sojan, what is so important that you can't wait?"
He stepped closer and bowed.
"You know what's going on in the city?"
"You mean the change in the inhabitants? Yes, I felt it for the first time this summer."
Her brow was contracted into a maze of questions, showing her age even more clearly than all the many wrinkles already did. Sojan felt like a criminal for bothering her with this, but she was still, in the end, the best shaman he knew.
"We pulled out an oversized water terror earlier. The elf hunter helping us cast a spell to uncover magic..."
"Let's see it."
Laughing, she held out her hand. He put the part of the fin in it. It took a few moments before a reaction came.
"Yeah, that's weird. There shouldn't be energy like that."
"Do you know where it comes from? Or how to dissipate it?"
Shununda opened her eyes and looked at him sympathetically.
"You know where this energy comes from. Demons and mages work together. If anyone should know, it should be you my demon friend."
Struck by the moment, he fell into the seat cushion behind him.
"They must be close by. The tree spirits said it's coming from the city, so
the river is slowing it down. Whatever it is."
"So you'll have to look out to the other side of town."
"Can you do me a favor?"
She smiled mischievously.
"Of course, Sojan, how can I help?"
"I need to know the implications, and your magic can help me."
"Always at your service."
Shununda shifted and waited for his idea.
By the afternoon, everything was back to normal, except that Sojan had shooed Erbert out of the kitchen. He knew that Erbert didn't see it as badly as he always did, but as the guild master's husband, he had to keep his face.
So Sojan was now whirling around the large kitchen preparing dinner for everyone. Stew and soup would be best in this weather. He had just put the bread in the oven when Lyran peeked around the corner.
"I thought Marilka was kidding when she said I'd find you here."
"She never would, at least not when it comes to the kitchen."
"What smells so good in here, anyway?"
Lyran entered the kitchen and within seconds had his nose over the first pot.
"That's the chicken broth boiling away."
"Oh, there's chicken soup?"
Sojan had to grin at the youthful enthusiasm Lyran displayed.
"Among other things."
He turned his attention to the ingredients on the table and began sorting what was for which pot. Lyran stood on the other side from the table and watched him.
"Why are you cooking? I thought that's what Erbert did."
"I have to think."
A little annoyed, Sojan looked up and pursed his mouth.
"When I need to think, I cook. It helps sort out my thoughts."
"Well, I prefer a walk or a long bath there, but why not."
Lyran shrugged and leaned forward. A mischievous grin appeared on his face.
"Is something wrong?" asked Sojan in an attempt not to respond to Lyran's non-verbal flirting.
"You wouldn't happen to be thinking about a certain bard, would you?"
With a snort of laughter, Sojan held onto the table.
"No, right now my mind is more preoccupied with the fact that there's something going on in the city involving both demons and mages."
Elegantly, Lyran straightened his shirt. You had to credit him with one thing, he had perseverance.
"Maybe you should take your mind off things?"
"That's why I'm cooking. And if you don't want to just eat bread tonight, you should let me get on with it."
"Oh, this is going to be our dinner?" wondered Lyran with a surprised blink.
"What were you thinking?"
"I don't know, maybe a pick-me-up for Duran? He expended a lot of energy. More than he should have for something like weather control."
Sojan's eyebrows drew together.
"What do you know about ancient magic?"
"Our neighbor could do ancient magic. I understood little of what she told, but I know that weather control is the first thing a shaman learns. Even if Duran isn't one...he shouldn't be so beat."
"You gather more knowledge than a withered librarian," Sojan smirked.
Lyran blushed a little and grabbed an apple from the table.
"I pick up things like that."
"And you're right. The mist is created with magic, so it takes more energy to dissipate the mist."
"Makes sense. Magic versus magic. That shouldn't be easy."
Sojan took advantage of the fact that Lyran was standing there pensively to get ahead. No sooner had he sorted everything out that he saw out of the corner of his eye that Lyran was about to say something.
"If you want to say something, go ahead and get it out."
"I wonder how many people you're cooking for. We're how many?"
"Twelve people, and you haven't seen how some of them can dig in here."
Sojan shook his head at the knowledge that Neeshah was probably going to be halfway with her head in the pot again.
"Do you need any help? I could cut the vegetables."
Frowning, Sojan nodded.
"That would be a big help, and at some point we'll talk about where you're actually from."
"I'm just a surprise package!"
Lyran had his arms stretched out to the side like a narrator in a play.
"That's the right explanation for you. So come on, you surprise package, the vegetables want to be washed and cut."
With a theatrical salute, Lyran set to work.
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Snowy day AU fanfic
This is another quick fanfic about my AU in mha. And since it's snowing outside right now, I thought it would be a good idea to make a fanfic about a snowy day at katsuki's home!
Just a reminder that katsuki is the son of aizawa and mic if this gets confusing.
Katsuki layed in bed staring at the ceiling, the clock red exactly 10 am on a sunday. Usually at this time his parents were awake downstairs making coffee, the strong smell was the alarm since no pair of ears could be.
He begrudgingly sat up and slipped on a pair of slippers and rubbed his eyes, letting his short but long hair fall to his shoulders.
As katsuki walked half-awake down the stairs, the only greeting was his father's warm smiles.
'Good morning katsuki.' The blonde man signed while he paid no attention to the stove that had eggs on it.
"M...mornin.." katsuki muttered out, eyes still drooping as he reached for his medication above the coffee maker, swallowing three pills without water which made Yamada cringe.
'Would you like any eggs for breakfast?' Yamada asked the kid who was trying his best to put the lid on the pill bottle but sighed in defeat when he just set the bottles down.
"No... m'not hungy..." The blonde and black haired student breathed out, stumbling to the couch where he collapsed on, letting out a grunt when he finally hit the soft cushions.
After a while of laying on the couch, Katsuki felt soft footsteps coming his way as he sat up to see who it was.
It was his second father Aizawa with a cup of fresh coffee in his hands, glasses outlined his eyes as he smiled softly at him.
'Morning kid' Aizawa signed to him, getting only a grunt in response.
Katsuki stood up and made his way to Yamada who was putting the eggs on plates and set his head on his father's shoulder, getting a jump in response.
Yamada ran his fingers through katsuki's hair, brushing out his son's blonde with black hair so that it was actually decent looking.
Katsuki felt Yamada's throat vibrate signaling that he was talking, perking his head up slowly to try and attempt to read his lips.
"...day...shin...side...hang..." was all he could catch before giving up and setting his head back on Yamada's shoulder, letting him get embraced by his father until he felt a light tap on his head to which he spun around to meet Aizawa's eyes.
'Look' He signed as he motioned to a window that had no sight but white powder that covered the ground and trees.
Katsuki's eyes widened slightly as he made his way to the window and took a seat by it. Snow was katsuki's favorite thing in the world besides fireworks, stars, and an otamatone.
Snow never made any noise.
Snow was silent, beautiful, and satisfying to watch. When katsuki was a kid, he would sit by the window everytime it snowed, watching how it fell from the sky and landed just as gracefully to the ground.
He turned to his parents and asked to go outside. His response was a headshake from both sides.
Katsuki tilted his head in confusion. Why couldn't he go outside? Why did they show him his favorite thing just to be told that he couldn't go play it it?
'Your cousin is coming over soon to hang out for a bit.' Aizawa answered as katsuki's face lit up instantly. There was nothing katsuki liked more than to screw around in the snow with his best bro.
'Shinsou will be here in about an hour so I suggest you go get in some warm clothes." Yamada said to the boy who was barely even able to keep his excitement from showing, not even remembering about how tired he really was until he tried to run but was greeted by black and white spots and a headace instead, walking up the steps this time.
Yamada and Aizawa looked at each other and smiled, they remembered how it had felt to be teenagers too, how Aizawa would spend hours attempting to make a decent snowman but never succeeding in it, and how Yamada would laugh at Aizawa's fails getting a snowball in the face as payback, and how Shirakumo would put water on the snowballs he made, letting it freeze over the snowball which made for a very painful surprise when it was thrown at anyone.
The two chuckled at the memory and shared a small kiss, sitting down on the couch to watch tv together in wait for Shinsou and Aizawa's sister to come to drop him off for the day.
It took a while, but Shinsou and his parents finally showed up, with katsuki and shinsou running towards each other happily, knocking each other into the snow in the process.
Shinsou was wearing baggy jeans with a heavy black sweatshirt overtop of it and a green hat to top it off, katsuki thought he looked hilarious as he himself was actually decent in his brown jacket and jeans with heavy warm to protect his hearing devices from the snow.
"Katsuki be careful with your hearing devices, come in after thirty minutes to cool down you two then you can go back out." Yamada cautioned the duo as katsuki frantically felt his hearing devices but sighed in relief when he felt them securely in his ear and head.
Shinsou's parents and katsuki's walked back into the house as shinsou gave katsuki a smirk and pulled out a sled.
"There's a trail about ten minutes away that leads to a gigantic hill, wanna go sleddin or are you a pussy?" The purple haired kid teased the other.
Katsuki gasped dramatically and threw a hand to his chest as he pretended to stumble back a bit.
"Me, scared?! Hell no you purple bitch!" He exclaimed, his eyes widened which made shinsou chuckle.
"Well I went to the store before this and got us fucking awsome sleds, so lets hurry up and go before our thirty minutes is up." He explained as the two walked away from the house, chatting up a storm along the way.
"Alright, we're here." Shinsou said to katsuki who was looking down with a look of surprise on his face.
The snowy hill was huge! It was steep and covered in white snow with a fence to stop anyone from going any farther. Best part was that they were the only ones there due to it being early in the morning.
"You go first your majesty." Shinsou said to katsuki as he bowed down to they boy who scoffed in response.
"Hell yeah I'll go first." Katsuki said as he set up his sled at the top, glancing back at his cousin, he knew he had to get the last word in.
"Watch and learn dumbass, imma show you how to go down so fas- OH LORD!!"
Shinsou had gotten tired of katsuki's talking and shoved him down the hill as hard as he could, listening to katsuki's surprised screams was like heroin to him as he smirked to himself.
Katsuki was not prepared for minesweeper to push him down the hill, he held onto the sides of the sled and slowly got into a good position on the thing and yelled in excitement, whooing the entire time until he slowed himself down at the end and looked up to shinsou laughing his ass off.
"Your turn you son of a fucking bitch!" He yelled as his response was for shinsou to stop laughing immediately and whip his head up to sassily look at him.
"Whaddid you call my parents you little-"
"YADDA YADDA YADDA BITCH JUST GOOOO!" katsuki exclaimed.
Shinsou let out a small "hmph" and ran up to his sled and launched himself down the hill, yelling and whooping as he sped down the hill at full speed, letting himself roll down when he reached the bottom, katsuki hovered over him with a smirk and tilted head.
"How was it you insomniac fuck?" The half blonde asked as shinsou threw snow in his face in response and stood up when katsuki stumbled back.
"Hey!" Katsuki exclaimed.
"Shut it explodo-boy." Shinsou remarked, letting katsuki glare at the back of his head while they walked up the steep hill, gasping in relief when they reached the top, falling down and letting the snow cover them.
"Hey funny idea-" katsuki started.
Shinsou looked at katsuki, signaling him to continue.
"So you know how that the heavier the object the faster it'll go downhill?"
"Uhh... yeah, what's your point?" Shinsou questioned.
"You wanna go down the hill with me on my sled?" Katsuki asked with a smirk.
Immediately, shinsou returned the mischievous look with an ever more troublesome smirk, one that can set off so many alarms in someone's head.
Katsuki and shinsou sat down on one sled, katsuki up front and shinsou in the back. And on the count of three, katsuki used his explosions to launch themselves down the hill, melting snow as they raced down, whooping and making it go faster and faster.
But there was one thing they forgot about.
And they realized this when it was too late.
Shinsou was the one to find the problem when his face went white and started to tap his cousin frantically.
"What is it shinsou?" Katsuki asked as he reported by pointing ahead of them.
"What is it- OH FUCK OH NO!" The boy screamed in terror.
But it was too late when the two boys rammed headfirst into the fence that blocked their way of going any further.
Well to be exact, KATSUKI was the one who slammed into the fence, shinsou managed to hit his head on the sled, the two boys groaning in pain as they sat in the snow for what felt like forever.
Until shinsou realized another horrible thing.
"WAIT KATSUKI YOUR HEARING DEVICES!" he screeched.
Katsuki's eyes widened in fear as he felt for his headphones but felt nothing but the outline of his hearing devices, yanking them out, he stuffed them in his pockets as not to risk getting electrocuted.
'Are they ok?' Shinsou asked, his signing was sloppy but it wasn't too bad that it was unreadable.
Katsuki felt his hearing devices and groaned when he felt how wet they were, showing shinsou the damage to which his reaction was a small "oooooh..."
'We should head home then.' He suggested, the duo already making their way up the hill, not even taking a break when they reached the top.
Aizawa and Yamada were chatting with Shinsou's parents about everything, about how the weather was cold, about how school was for the kids, and how no one wanted to go to work tomorrow.
Everyone's attention was suddenly adverted to the door and to everyone's surprise, there stood a soaking wet, bruised up and guilty looking katsuki and shinsou, katsuki fiddling with something in his hands.
"What happened you two?" Aizawa asked and shinsou pointed to katsuki's ears. There was no cochlear implant or hearing aid. Then it struck everyone.
"I uh... I kinda uh.... got my uhhh.... hearing d-devices wet when we- uh... when we went sledding..." the blonde shivered.
Both cousins were shivering in their wet clothes and looking down at the ground.
The parents looked at each other and laughed, making the duo very confused.
"It's ok you two they can be replaced!" Yamada laughed out.
"Yeah it'll be ok!" Aizawa chuckled.
Katsuki handed his parents his hearing devices and led shinsou upstairs where they both got into warm showers, katsuki offering shinsou a pair of warm sweatpants and a sweatshirt to which shinsou happily accepted as he threw his wet clothes in the washing machine.
After a while of cooling down, katsuki and shinsou sat on katsuki's bed watching anime and drinking hot chocolate and eating Yoden which was surprisingly better than sledding, both boys cuddling in the stolen sleeping bag that Aizawa uses, letting the cate hop up and down from the bed.
"Hey purple." Katsuki spoke after a hour of silence.
"Hmm?" Shinsou replied. Katsuki had an emergency hearing aid stuffed into his left ear in case the previous one got ruined in any way.
"Thanks for... ya know... comin over an shit..." He said.
Shinsou looked at katsuki for a minute and leaned back to pet a black and white cat that was meowing for attention, letting his thoughts consume him of what to say next.
"Uhh... you're welcome... I was actually pretty bored at home I guess and wanted to hang..." he replied, katsuki nodding in agreement as they both sat back and unpaused the show.
"If it snows tomorrow, let's do this again at the dorms, those shitty extras can figure out a way to play by themselves." Katsuki told him.
"That sounds good." Shinsou responded.
"Then it's settled."
"Looks like it."
"See you tomorrow dumbass."
"Same to you loud ass."
The end ❤
Oh you're still here. Well in that case, let me thank you for reading this! Take this and leave a like and maybe even a nice comment to really make my day! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
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five phones on the table
A look at the fab five by looking at their phones.
Sometimes you want to try something weird with your writing style so you get an idea and call it a character study. This is what comes of that.
The long table with its numerous chairs was, by proximity to the kitchen, a dining table but due to the nature of the building it occupied doubled as a meeting and strategy table. The small net, paddles, and light plastic balls stored in an innocuous box in the kitchen meant it tripled as a ping pong table.
Currently, its occupants were not any number of the young heroes who were welcome in the halls. No one sat eating breakfast, though a ring of coffee and stray bit of egg would need to be cleaned off, or tinkering with anything from weaponry or gadgets to video game controllers or motorcycle parts. No drops of blood from emergency triage covered the top or powdery strings from aerosol cans thanks to prank wars.
Instead, five cell phones lay abandoned in the otherwise empty rooms. As useful as they can be, even just to stave off boredom on a stakeout, their owners weren’t in the habit of grabbing them when danger called and they rushed to face it. While their owners had grown in time with the rapid developments of cellular phones — and regularly used and fought the cutting edge of technology — these were not like the phones they started off with. They were much more fragile. Their first cell phones had survived punches, drops, outer space, and arguably a bullet from Deathstroke the Terminator. Even the ones built by WayneTech now had a tendency to shatter when slipping off the kitchen counter.
The first of the phones was indeed a WayneTech phone, one that technically speaking was still in the design phases of development and wouldn’t even have a prototype for another two years. Yet, on the table it sat in a sturdy black case that was nicked and worn. A once bright red and blue S in a shield sticker was on the back, though it had faded and begun to fray with age. The screen flickered to life every few seconds with a notification coming in. The small rectangles showed only the app the messages came from and the name of the sender, nothing more. Small bat: Little Bro. Small bat: Little Bro. Yellow ghost: Babs. Green speech bubble: Amy. Green speech bubble: Alfred. Small bat: Boss Man. The picture that was barely visible through the notifications was of an elephant dressed in finery, a big top circus tent blurry in the background.
The next phone was older and more beat up than the first. It was made by a company that used a fruit for its name and image. The owner had been given it and it had been gotten for free, part of a family cellular plan years ago. The red case it called home was just as worn as the phone itself with its cracked screen. Though it was slim and light with a chipped yellow lightning bolt painted on the back. The spiderwebbing lightning bolt in the glass showed a young woman’s sly grin as she stared down the camera with her arms crossed. “Linda Calling” framed her. When no one answered, the image changed to a picture of three people with their arms loose on each other’s shoulders. A man with bright, tangled red hair and sparks of freckles, the same dark haired young woman with almost perfect teeth, and another man with long, pale orange hair and a wry, almost annoyed expression. Their faces were covered quickly by the “Missed Call: Linda” notification.
The third was newer than the last and though made by the same manufacturer as the first it was older than that one. In a hopeful optimism of its owner, there was no case. Which was odd as the camera was one of the best found in a mobile phone and many with the same model took great pains to protect it. Which isn’t to say that the owner wasn’t careful and didn’t go through great pains to care for it. The layers of metallic colored stars that stuck to the back helped to prove this as one fell into wear, another bright shine took its place. The photo on the screen of the other side had been taken using that excellent camera by the owner. A large group of people, all carefully posed yet laughing and antsy at the experience, at a picnic or a party. The people all called this building home and the people who moved through it family. A single text message came through from a “Diana” that began with “Dear Sister,” and then was cut off.
The fourth phone was bulkier, chunkier, than the others. It was carefully custom made to withstand the pressure and depths of the deepest seas. One of just a few in the world. It lived in an airtight waterproof case and was kept charged due to what some could only describe as magic. Despite the practicality of the case, it still managed to impart some individuality. A deep, almost royal blue, it was covered in a swirling pattern that some might think of as waves, and others flowers. Its screen stayed dark, though there was a message from much earlier. A small note of encouragement from a “Dolphin” overlaid on a serene image of crystal blue water shining in a lake surrounded by verdant trees.
The fifth and final phone was in as bad of shape as the second. An almost out of date model by Queen Industries, a company that no longer existed or at least not in that capacity. Though the owner would regularly take the small device apart, tinkering and updating the small wires and computer chips within. A thick, almost violently pink case had taken the actual brunt of the wear. Most of the back was covered by a sticker that was the image of a tweet with the immortal phrase “Help me obi Juan whoever the fuck you are.... You're my only ho.” The image on the screen was a young girl in a princess dress and a yellow Robin Hood hat grinning and waving at the camera. It was easy to assume her name was Lian as the text from an “Oliver” could be read saying “Daddy it’s Lian. Love you. Stay safe.”
It might be a few hours and a few battery percentages later, but eventually the owners would come and collect them. Would respond to the notifications. Maybe clean up the bit of egg and the coffee ring on the table.
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Kid!Queen: Wish Upon A Star
Tw: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Domestic Violence
7-year-old Roger stood on his tippy toes peering out the window he grabs onto the window sill to see better the window blew his hair it had to only be 10 at night. He sighs and looks up to the sky squinting, "When you wish upon a star. Makes no diffe'ent who you are. Anything your heart d-desires. Will come to you.." Roger sings softly gripping the window sill. He hears his father and mother downstairs having their famous police getting called arguments the whole house seems to shake when they argue. Roger has been wishing since he was 3-years-old, at least his singing has gotten better.
Roger whimpers and looks towards the starry night sky, his blue eyes sparkle seeing a nice shiny star in the sky it seemed to shine brighter than all the others, "I-I wish daddy will leave mama alone... I-I can't take her boo boos anymore.. I hurt.... I-I also wish for a p-prince t-t-to come and get me. I-I want to be l-like Cinderella!''
He heard a scream of pure agony come from downstairs followed by a sickening thud, "ROGER, COME DOWN HERE!!" it was his father's voice Roger shudders and grabs his favourite blanket the one his mother made him.
"It sounds like he had too much adult juice" Roger thinks as his little body scampers out the window his blanket tied around him like a cape. The chilly fall air makes him shiver and the makeshift cape flutters weakly, "ROGER!! I'M GOING TO SNAP THAT FUCKING NECK OF YOURS WHERE ARE YOU??!!"
Roger tears up, "N-No, no." his foot slips and he goes soaring off the roof he twists and turns in the air. Roger covers his mouth many thoughts run through his head like who's going to protect mama, who's going to cook dinner if he's gone, who's going to clean the house, who's going to hide daddy's bottles? Roger thankfully lands in the neighbor's bushes and he only has a few scrapes and bruises, he looks up to the sky a sniffling mess. He thought all about the times he's wished and wished for daddy to go away and he hasn't, all the times he wished for someone to come save him... And then it clicks for his young mind, "I-Its all lies." he kicks at the ground with his bare foot kicking up some dirt, "W-Wishes isn't real." he cries and runs.
He didn't know where he was running too. He just keeps a grip onto his blanket and flees into the night his tiny body shakes adrenaline racing through his small body still. He stops at the park where he stayed at so often to get away from the noise, to get away from world war three. Roger shudders and sits on the bench wrapping the blanket around himself, his feet a muddy dirty mess with grass stuck to them. The chilly air made him shivering and shake.
"H-Hey!" a light nearly blinds him and the blond covers his eyes a little scared,
"Hey watch where ya shine that!"
A boy with tan skin steps out of the wooden area a big clunker of a flashlight in his hands he was followed by a boy with curly hair that was getting to be neck length on him, "You're new." the tan boy says, he had to be roughly 10 or 11, looked starved and in need of a bath.
The curly haired boy peeks over his shoulder, "I-Im B'ian."
"R-Roger." the blond sticks his hand out wether he was blushing from the cold or the boy, Roger thought Brian was very pretty, like a girl. Maybe this was his prince and the older boy was Brian's servant.
"Im Freddie." the tan boy tells him butting in.
Brian rolls his eyes grabbing the flashlight from Freddie, "Come on lets take him to ou' place."
Freddie takes Roger's hand and holds Brian's free hand. They walk hand and hand through the woods Roger clutches his blanket tighter to himself the woods look scary the tree shadows look like looming hands about to strangle him like his father did. Roger feet starts to hurt from the sticks and rocks, he believes he's gotten cuts on them but Roger's feet were numb from the cold by now. As Roger takes in more kf his surroundings he realizes he's never been this deep into the woods before, and he saw some new creatures he never saw before, like an owl who flew away once they got too close. As Roger drifts into his thoughts he bumps into Freddie's back the three stood outside a abandoned looking hunter's cabin, "Y-You live here?" Roger asks softly kinda amazed.
''Me, Brian, and Johnny live here." Freddie explains as he "unlocks" the door was a wooden key, "Johnny we're home!"
A three or so-ish tot lays in a makeshift crib teddies and plushies surround him. He nurses on a green turtle theme paci he looks happy to see his friends are back but he looks weary of Roger.
"Johnny this is Roger. Roger this is Johnny."
Roger waves and Johnny clings to his plushies.
"He has uh, Brian what's that big word again?"
"Aspergers." Brian tells him.
Freddie snaps his fingers, "Yeah, ass-burgers!"
"No it's asper-," Brian rolls his eyes, "Forget it.'
"You said ass!" Johnny's tiny voice pipes up.
"So did you." Freddie giggles.
Johnny gasps and looks offended at himself he cross his arms and pouts.
Brian giggles and goes to him, "Does someone want num-nums?" Brian asks picking up Johnny with a struggle.
The toddler nods and bounces in Brian's arms making it even harder for the 9-year-old to carry him to the kitchen area.
"Well welcome to our home. Hopefully you can stay." Freddie says slinging an arm around Roger's shoulders.
Roger felt his face blush and looks away, "Yeah hopefully." He removes bis blanket laying it onto one of the hay beds. Roger looks at Brian and his wonderful curls, pretty eyes, charming smile and then to Freddie big ears, dark cat like eyes, and messed up teeth reminded Roger of a donkey off of Pinocchio. Roger determines his prince, it was going to be Brian. Roger thinks back on what Disney taught him, princes are tall, skinny, nice teeth, and are white. So Roger picks Brian to be his prince since Freddie can never be a prince.
Roger watches as Brian helps Johnny feed himself. The tot struggles a little the poor boy seems to shake a lot and always looks to be on the verge of tears.
Brian helps Freddie make a small dinner of eggs stolen from a farmer and stolen meat from the butcher.
Roger was coloring then he looks up at them, "Do you watch Disney?"
"I use to." Brian said, "Then things got bad.. But now I'm here!"
"Yeah me too." Freddie says.
"Do you think princesses have babies?"
Freddie looks to Brian amd shrugs, "I guess."
"If I ever have a baby I'll name them Sam or maybe Rosy, or maybe Greyson?"
Johnny pipes up, "JJ!"
Brian giggles softly, "If I have a baby I'll name them Nicole if they're a girl for a boy, maybe Micheal? James?"
"If I have a kid," Freddie pipes in, "I'll name them Oreo."
"Why?" Roger asks.
"Because I'm hungry."
The room goes quiet after that. They eat and clean up, Freddie goes over to the corner of the room once the kitchen stuff is done.
"Come on lets get ready for rest." Freddie says pulling out stolen toothpaste and toothbrushes from a bag, "Its 1AM."
Roger gasps, "That's the longest I've ever stayed up!" he bounces on his heels and ignores his body pain.
They all brush their teeth outside spitting and rinsing with well water. It tasted disgusting to Roger but the other boys didn't seem to mind. Freddie held Johnny's head and forced his mouth open as Brian scrubs Johnny's tiny teeth, "This is the only way." Freddie tells a stunned Roger, "He's also got his first loose tooth. "
"That's cool, my daddy made me lose my first tooth."
Freddie and Brian look at him in stun silence and Freddie noted how empty Roger's mouth was of teeth.
Roger whimpers and hurries back inside the "cold becoming too much for him". The other boys come inside moments later, "Night night, Johnny." Freddie says tucking him in. Roger watches as Freddie sings the boy to sleep he had a amazing singing voice, maybe Freddie was looking for his prince too? Roger got to share a hay bed with Brian the boys share Roger's blanket along with a blanket Brian had. Freddie and John shared one too, John gets cold easily now and they couldn't have him getting sick again.
After Brian put out the fireplace and snuggles into his blankets, long after Freddie and John were fast asleep, Roger rolls over and faces Brian.
"Hey, Brian?" Roger asks softly hearing John and Freddie's snores.
''Huh?' Brian replies sleepy.
"I know we only met hours ago."
He could feel Brian's hazel eyes staring at him, "W-Will you be my prince?"
Brian cuddles up to him nose in his hair, "Sure p'incess." there was no teasing just Brian trying to be caring.
Roger snuggles into him and closes his eyes he kinda felt happy. "Maybe wishes do come true" Roger thought, "I did get a prince and daddy's gone.."
Roger felt warm lips kiss the top of his head, "Night p'incess."
Roger smiles and snuggles closer to him relaxing, "Night prince.'' and he fall asleep feeling safe for the first time in his young life.
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Worth A Thousand Words
Title: Worth A Thousand Words
AO3 Link: Coming Soon
Square filled: Dick Pic
Pairing: Dean x F!Reader
A/N: The ending is definitely my favorite posted moment so far. @spnkinkbingo tie in is the dick pic - which fits Dark!Sam perfectly at this point. We’re over the halfway point for the series now. 10 more weeks and the epilogue will be posting. I’m really excited for the next two chapters to post. ;)
Warnings: 18 + - Here be smut under the cut; stalker behavior; language; really awesome boyfriend Dean; unsolicited graphic text messages; male masturbation; p in v
Credits: Gif under gif; beta: @that-one-gay-girl; @firefly-graphics divider; Corresponding songs from the playlist: We Found Love by Rhianna; Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran. Tag List Open.
Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Previous Chapter | Tag List Request
Dean woke to the sunlight streaming through the windows. His face was buried in your hair, arm around your waist, his chest to your back. He didn’t have anything planned today so he cuddled closer and went back to sleep. The next time he woke up, you were facing him in his arms watching him sleep.
“Watching people sleep is incredibly weird, sweetheart.”
You chuckled and gave him a kiss. “I told you I had flaws, Huckleberry.”
“Not a flaw I can’t live with.” Dean rolled you to your back and started kissing down your neck. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, moaning a little in the process.
“Now THIS is a way to wake up.” You dug your fingers into Dean’s shoulders and rolled your hips against him, feeling his hard cock against you. Dean’s mouth made his way to yours and explored the inside of your mouth with his tongue. His hand made its way up your side from your hip to your breast, under the oversized tee you wore to bed. Your hands made quick work of the tee, tossing it over your head as Dean removed your underwear and his.
Dean’s hand made its way down to your folds and dipped a finger into your slick. “Oh sweetheart, so wet already.”
“Dean, please. I need you.”
Dean eased himself into your channel, setting a slow and gentle pace. He continued kissing every part of you that he could reach, hands exploring every dip and curve as he made love to you.
Sam watched through his camera lens as Dean fucked you. He could hear all your little moans playing in his head and his dick got harder and harder until it couldn’t be ignored any longer. Sam licked his hand and started fisting his length. He got his phone out and took several pictures of his hand around his dick. He put his phone away and went back to his camera, still pumping his dick.
He took several pictures of you under Dean, fisting his cock as he went. When you rolled on top, he shot one photo before abandoning the shutter button to stabilize himself on a tree and jerk off in earnest, still watching you ride Dean and pretending it was him.
“Oh god, Y/N. You take this dick so well. Cum on my dick. Cum for me.” As if you could hear his words, you came. Sam could hear the noises you made the day at the church and he came, too. Hard.
“I want to ride you, Dean.”
Dean rolled the two of you over so that you were on top of him. You ground your hips against his before starting to bounce on his cock, chasing the orgasm you felt building. Dean’s large, calloused hands held on to your hips, gripping tightly in an attempt to keep from coming yet.
“Cum for me baby.” Dean moved his right thumb down towards your clit, but before he rubbed his thumb across it, your walls clenched and your orgasm overwhelmed you.
“DEAN,” you cried, riding out your orgasm before collapsing towards him, landing with your hands on either side of his head. He reached up and kissed you before flipping you back onto your back and chasing his own orgasm. It didn’t take him long to find his release, crying out your name breathlessly.
The two of you laid there panting, coming down from your highs for several long moments. Dean pulled out and rolled over, you whimpering a little at the loss of him.
You rolled on your side to lay on his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and looked down into your eyes, caressing your face.
“I love you, Dean.” You saw his eyes sparkle and his soft smile.
“I love you, Y/N.” Dean pressed a soft kiss to your lips and drew you in closer to him, nuzzling into your hair.
This was the best morning either of you could ask for.
It was after noon when you and Dean got out of bed. You made coffee while Dean started making brunch. It was a simple domesticity that didn’t go unnoticed by you. You watched while Dean started pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. It felt right.
Your attention was pulled away from your lust-filled view by a text notification on your phone. It was an image from an unknown number. You assumed it was spam and didn’t bother opening it, choosing instead to prepare a cup of coffee for yourself and for Dean.
You ate breakfast with your boyfriend, enjoying the day of rest and relaxation, just talking and laughing. You decided to invite Cas and Meg over for dinner. When you went to text her, you remember the unread text message.
Opening it, you dropped the phone with a shriek.
Dean was instantly at your side, picking up the phone and making sure the screen wasn’t shattered. He wasn’t prepared for what awaited him when he unlocked.
“That’s a dick pic. Y/N, who is sending you dick pics?” He sounded a little irritated. You couldn’t blame him after what he’d told you about his ex-girlfriend.
“Dean, it’s not what you think. I have no idea who this is. How could this person have gotten my number in the first place?!”
“I believe you. I don’t think this is a wrong number, though. I think it’s from your stalker friend.”
Dean called Donna and forwarded her and Charlie the information you had, which was unfortunately not much. This was pissing both you and Dean off. No clues, no evidence, nothing. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much that could be done until this person slipped up.
You texted Meg while Dean took a shower. She replied nearly instantly that she and Cas would be over for dinner at 6:30, since everyone had to work the next day. When Dean got out the shower, you let him know they were coming over and you made plans for lasagna for dinner.
You took a quick shower before the two of you headed out for groceries. Dean had been quiet since you’d checked the text. He said he believed you but it didn’t seem like it. His jaw was clenched and his hand kept gripping the steering wheel like it was trying to wiggle away from him.
“What’s on your mind, Huckleberry?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, that was convincing.” You rolled your eyes and looked out the window, obviously disbelieving his denial. You chose not to push it. But after a few minutes, Dean spoke up anyway.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” You rolled your eyes but turned your head to him anyway. “This is not about you, okay? I told you Lisa ended up in bed with my friend and I’m just reacting to the memories is all. I know you aren’t seeing anyone else and I know you didn’t ask for that dick pic. I swear.” He reached over and took your hand, planting a kiss on it and throwing a glance your way.
The rest of the grocery shopping trip was uneventful. You got the supplies to make lasagna, a pie for dessert, and grabbed a bottle of wine. Since you split the list up, it took you less than 15 minutes to get everything. Pie was, of course, Dean’s task.
He was in a much better mood on the way home, holding your hand and singing along to the radio. Whether he was excited about the pie or he worked himself through the memories was not addressed. You were just happy he was back to normal.
You chopped ingredients while Dean was in charge of cooking the sauce. When the time came, you took care of the noodles and Dean layered. Cas and Meg showed up just before you put it in the oven and the four of you sat in the living room with the wine.
The oven dinged at the same time as your phone. Dean and Cas headed to get the food and the plates while you and Meg headed to the dining room. You checked your text on the way there and shouted for Dean. You handed the phone to Meg and finished your glass of wine.
“What the fuck is this? Who’s sending you dick pics? IS THIS THE SAME STALKER DUDE?!” Meg was livid at this new development. “You’re changing your number first thing in the morning, Y/N. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
“I have to agree with Meg. This person knows too much information about you and Dean as it is. Is there any way that you can get the change without heading into the store? Just in case you’re being followed.” The concern was etched on Cas’s face and you had to wonder just how much he actually knew.
“Don’t even worry about that. I’ll send Charlie out tomorrow and get a new line on the corporate account.”
"Or that. That works, too." Cas finished setting the table while you refilled everyone's wine.
"Alright, let's eat while it's still hot." Dean dished out lasagna on everyone's plate and you all ate while making happy conversation.
First thing in the morning, Charlie got you a new phone and phone number, dropping it off to you at work.
"I don't know if there's anything on your old phone that may have been compromised so I just got you a new one. Main contacts are in here already along with a few selfies for my contact photo." She was smiling as she handed you the phone, very pleased that you weren’t going to get random pictures from people you didn’t want anymore.
You hugged your friend and thanked her profusely before she walked back to her office. You were all taking precautions to conceal everything possible for your safety. You just hoped it was enough.
There was a package on your doorstep when you got home. You checked the cameras, only seeing a delivery person dropping off the box in question. You texted Dean and asked him if he had ordered anything.
>I don’t think so. Why, what’s up?
<Oh, just a package on the doorstep. The camera footage shows someone dropping it off, but it’s in a delivery uniform. No facial shots.
>I’ll get Charlie to pull it up. Don’t open it till I get home.
<Duh. Do you have a lot left?
>Not really, but I want to talk to you about something when I get back.
<Do I get a hint?
>Business related. Don’t worry, sweetheart. See you soon.
<See you soon.
You went inside, setting the package on the counter and busied yourself with making dinner while you waited for Dean to get home. You poured a glass of whiskey while you stirred the veggies for fajitas. You had just finished up when Dean got home.
“Hey baby. How was work?” Dean wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders.
“Eh, it was work. I really do appreciate you letting Charlie handle the phone deal this morning. I’m glad I didn’t have to go to the store. Cas is right, I could be followed and I’d never notice.” You took a deep breath and finished your whiskey, immediately pouring another before turning around and wrapping your arms around Dean’s neck. “I don’t want to think about that any more tonight. Dinner is ready. Let’s sit and you can tell me all about this business thing.”
Dean launched into a long explanation of how S&W Automotive was a body and mechanic shop but they were running out of room and also starting to get more and more restoration projects.
“So I was thinking of expanding and creating a new subsidiary, S&W Restorations.” He looked like he wasn’t sure that it was a good idea or that he’d even be able to pull it off.
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, Huckleberry! Let me know what I need to do to make this easier for you and I’ll be there.” You abandoned your chair and went to sit on Dean’s lap, kissing his cheek and making sure he knew you believed every word you said.
“Well, I was thinking. Maybe you’d want to come on and manage it? The whole restoration division,” he said, rubbing his hand on your thighs.
You pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Dean, I don’t know anything about restoring cars. I barely know the front end from the back end.”
“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I’m not asking you to restore the cars. I’ll need someone I can trust to manage the scheduling, keep the projects on schedule, order parts from a list provided by the techs. Nothing where you’d need to have an intimate knowledge of cars from the start. That you’ll pick up as you go.”
“I’d be crazy to pass up working with you.”
“Awesome. I’ll run it by the board on Friday and hopefully we can have a celebratory night out.”
“Don’t you have standing drink dates on Friday?”
“Yeah but the kid is gonna be out of town for a while. Got an offer that couldn’t be refused.”
“In that case, I’ll see you at 6, Huckleberry.”
The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room with your drinks. You grabbed the package on the way, having almost forgotten about it. You set it on the coffee table and just stared at it until Dean grabbed his pocket knife and opened it.
“Congratulations on the big step in your relationship. I hope this will remind you that no matter what life throws at you, love will win. Love, Mom.”
“Oh, Dean. Your mom is the absolute best. What did she send us?”
Dean finished opening the package and found a beautiful wooden picture frame with a photo she must have snuck at Karen’s Cafe the day of the hit and run. Anyone who looked at the picture would see the two of you with equally adoring looks on your faces. There was no doubt that the two of you were hopelessly in love. You smiled a soft smile at her thoughtfulness and looked at Dean, seeing he was sporting the same look. You kissed his cheek and leaned your head against his shoulder.
“We have to call her and thank her, Dean. And maybe get her to forward me that picture.”
“Me too. I have a new desktop background. At least this one is safe for work.”
You chuckled and gently slapped his arm. He had such a way with words. Anyone else would have disgusted you with that comment but from him, you knew it was meant in the best way possible.
Dean took out his phone and snapped a selfie of the two of you with the picture before sending it to his mom with a long text of thanks and appreciation. The rest of the night passed peacefully and it was time to get some sleep. Your sleep was filled with pleasant dreams of you and Dean at the lake.
Tags: @waywardbaby @cajunquandary @thinkinghardhardlythinking @thefallenbibliophilequote @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @crashdevlin @agenthellcat @saiyanprincessswanie @deanwinchesterswitch @deanwanddamons @ladywinchester1967 @thatmotleygirl @hot-mess-magee @supernatural-bellawinchester @anaelsbrunette @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @downanddirtydean @winchest09 @jensengirl83 @deangirl89 @padalelli
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[Wreck Ciri Anon] YOU RANG? Howwwwwwww do we feel about monsterfucker Ciri and Eskel going back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, trying to hide what she's been up to from Geralt? But she gets so pent-up, she goes out for a hunt and meets Lambert before she smells quite...right again. And he threatens to tell Geralt unless she lets him watch, too, and the idea makes her so wet... and then Vesemir catches her, wants to "study this," until it's just Geralt who doesn't know...
hhhh babe i love you so much
this one is short but rest assured i have IDEAS and idk if they’ll go anywhere but they’re all filthy and i bow down before you in thanks
Ciri tries to tamp down on her urges during the winter. She does.
It’s just...hard. And she can’t very well get fucked by anyone else, either. She knows Eskel would be willing, but nothing is a secret in a keep of Witchers, and the last thing she wants to do is try to explain to Geralt. Any of it, really – her and Eskel, or the monsterfucking.
Sure, she knows that Geralt has done his own fair share of getting around with the non-human and monstrous, but this is a bit different.
Eventually, though, she can’t contain it anymore. She lets Eskel know what she’s doing – he can’t follow her, not without more forethought about planning to hunt together or something, but it’s better than just disappearing.
Luckily, the forests around Kaer Morhen are infested with all kinds of things.
– – – – –
There’s a nest of male drowners making a home downriver of the keep. She pulls the right vial from her pouch before undressing and putting all of her things high up in a tree, and then covers herself in the pheromones.
Just for the sake of safety – and because she really is so fucking desperate for it – she also uses the pheromone solution to finger her ass open. It’s not quick slick enough, but it’s good all the same, and she hopes that using the pheromones will make the drowners want her ass, too.
After all, if she can get properly fucked out here, maybe then she can hold out for a bit longer.
The drowners smell her before she even gets to the nest proper, and she finds herself being grabbed by slimy, webbed hands and forced down into the dirt. She goes easily, doesn’t struggle, and the drowner propped over her back makes a low, excited noise before rutting forward against her ass.
Some are smarter than others, though, and a second one shoves it out of the way to mount her proper, slamming its cock into her cunt without any problems. She buries her face in the mud to scream, entire body lighting up as she’s filled, fast and rough and perfect.
When the drowner is done, one of its friend shoves it back out of the way to set upon her. She thinks its the first one, but she can’t tell for sure and it doesn’t actually matter. There’s more fruitless, aimless rutting at her for a moment before this one’s cock catches – on her asshole.
She screams again, the pain almost too much, but before she can even adjust, there’s a drowner on the ground next to her, shoving under her body to rut up against her belly, frantic from the pheromones she’s soaked in. Between the one at her back rutting quick and hard, and her own gentle encouragement, it only takes a minute or two to get the bottom drowner’s cock to slip into her cunt.
“Oh, oh, fuck, please,” she babbles, and loses herself to the vicious pleasure for a while.
– – – – –
She’s...better, she finds, as she trudges back to her things, but the itch under her skin is still there. She needs more.
She doesn’t bother putting her clothes back on, just gathers her things and sets off into the wilds to look for more monsters.
It’s not long before she stumbles upon werewolf tracks. But before she can properly tune in to find the werewolf – likely a born one, but feral, considering the phase of the moon and the location – she finds evidence of something else.
“Lambert,” she says, and her voice is mostly steady.
“What are you up to?”
“None of your business,” she says, and he cocks his head with a smirk.
“Oh really?” he says, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes trail over her body. She shivers. “So you think I should just go back to the castle,” he continues, “maybe see if Geralt is still awake…? I think he’d like to know if you got accosted by drowners.”
“Lambert, don’t,” she says, heart in her throat.
“I can tell what you did,” he says. “Gotta say, I never thought you’d do that kind of thing, but…. Well. You’re looking for the werewolf, aren’t you?”
“Let me watch, and I won’t tell Geralt,” Lambert offers, and he gives her another once over.
Ciri sucks in a breath, feeling the heat already pooling in her belly, her cunt.
“Fine,” she agrees.
– – – – –
With Lambert to help, finding the werewolf is easy.
With the pheromones already on her, even though they’re for the wrong monster, it’s even easier to get it to fuck her.
She was right, it’s a born werewolf, but a feral one. It growls at Lambert, but can’t seem to take its attention entirely off of her, especially when she goes to the ground, face in the dirt and hips raised high. All it takes, once she’s in position, is an enticing howl – something Eskel taught her how to do – and a wiggle of her ass, and the werewolf is on her.
She sobs when its cock slides into her cunt, bigger than the drowners, more satisfying. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles, fists digging into the dirt. “Fuck, yeah, oh.”
“Shit, Ciri,” Lambert mutters, and Ciri whines as she gushes wet over the werewolf’s cock as it pistons into her, each thrust jarring and making her eyes go crossed.
“F...feels good,” she gasps out. “Want it to knot me.”
Lambert sucks in a breath. “Can make it,” he says. “If you want.”
Ciri moans, because she knows that, has had Eskel do it. “Please,” she begs. “Please, I need it so bad – ”
The werewolf roars, and she just barely sees the flare of magic before it’s shoving into her, knot and all. It locks easily and she wails as she comes, entire body jolting and shuddering.
“Fuck,” she pants. “Fuck, feels so fucking good.” She grinds back against the werewolf, making it growl at her and jerk its hips. The way the knot tugs at her insides makes her whine.
She turns her head to see Lambert with one hand down his pants, wide-eyed as he jerks his cock to the sight of her caught on a werewolf’s knot. She licks her lips as she watches, and that’s what sets Lambert off, knocking a startled grunt out of him as he spills into his pants.
– – – – –
The night with the drowners and the werewolf manage to tide her over to another few weeks.
But then she’s back to being restless and itchy. Horny.
She wants to be filled. Properly.
Problem is, when she goes to the far-out cave that houses several arachas, she finds Vesemir already there.
And just like when she ran into Lambert, there’s fuck all she can do to explain this away; she reeks like arousal and arachas pheromones.
Vesemir gives her a curious look. “Not a common choice,” he says. She flushes scarlet.
“Don’t tell Geralt,” she murmurs, and Vesemir hums.
“Let me see,” he says. “I think I’ll study it, if you’re going to give me the option – let me see, and I won’t tell Geralt.”
Ciri hates the fact that she immediately soaks her breeches.
So Vesemir watches as she strips, as she carefully opens herself up with a special oil, plugging her cunt up with a toy so the arachas can’t push its eggs into her womb. She’s done it before, but she doesn’t think she can handle it right now.
They move deeper into the cave, and it doesn’t take long before one of the arachas catches her scent. Vesemir stays back, close enough to see – and hear, and smell – but far enough to not spook the monster. Ciri takes a shuddering breath and gets into position, just in time for the insectoid to come sniffing, as it were.
Much like any other monster, it gives a cursory examination and then just goes for it. Its ovipositor is large and cold, only a little softer than the toy stretching her cunt, and she can’t help the way she sobs for it, working her hips into the pressure of it.
The arachas clicks, excitedly, and then moves. As it thrusts, she feels the creep of the eggs along the shaft, until finally they’re pushed into her, deeper and deeper with each new one that the arachas forces into her body. They’re smallish eggs, but they’re hard and heavy, and the arachas is guaranteed to lay at least two dozen.
She can tell Vesemir is shocked when she comes, even as she sobs at the sensation of being so filled. He’s probably even more shocked that she comes again, and again, and then a fourth time when the arachas is finally done breeding her, leaving her stuffed full of its eggs and in a heap on the floor.
It takes a little bit of maneuvering, but she manages to twist until she can grab the dildo in her cunt and fuck herself with it, quick and hard, and comes a fifth time with a wail.
– – – – –
After that, she notices how Lambert, Vesemir, and Eskel all look at her.
Geralt still doesn’t know.
And she’s still itchy, barely holding on without the ability to get fucked near constantly – by monsters or by Eskel.
But with the three of them knowing, it is much easier to get out to get a fix.
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