Each Time You Talk About The Werewolf Fic In The Tags Of A Post Just Know I'm Eating Up Every New Piece

each time you talk about the werewolf fic in the tags of a post just know i'm eating up every new piece of lore

oh gosh i meant to answer this so long ago OTL I'm so glad you eat it up, ME TOO when I actually have the brain for it TuT i've been in a mini-slump for werewolf fic, but yesterday i wrote a new scene that I'd really like to fit into it and it's making me go OwO over that fic again lol

Jason finds him.

It’s not a full moon, so he’s not really sure what to expect. Tim hasn’t done anything to piss him off lately, or he can’t think of anything he’s done that could have pissed off Jason lately, so he doesn’t think Jason came with a bone to pick. Which is good, because Tim can’t— Tim doesn’t want to fight right now. He could, if he had to. But he doesn’t want to because the thought of dancing their usual dance to its usual conclusion makes him even more nauseous than he already is. 

And even if they don’t reach that finale, even if Jason wouldn’t push for it... with the state he’s in, him plus Jason plus fighting would send him skidding down a much deeper spiral. And that would really fucking suck right now. 

He can’t be that weak in front of him.

Sweat clings damp and cold to his upper lip, clammy and horrible. His fingers are buzzing, itchy and hot and slowly losing all delicate feeling; he tries to straighten them out but they tremble and shake no matter how he concentrates on them to stop it stop it stop stopstop— and his heart rate is already fast enough, it doesn’t need the help. So he closes them into fists and shoves them around himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

He knows Jason caught sight of him because he saw the flash of a red helmet pausing on the rooftop across the street, and Tim has the fleeting hope that by the time Jason gets here, he’ll be able to stand without the brick wall supporting him.

He nearly convinces himself that his breathing is under control when he flinches, eyes blinking open instinctively, as a pair of gloved fingers snap in front of his face.

“Hey,” Jason’s rough voice bites. “You finally with me, dumbass?”

Lambert/Aiden (slightly angsty) reunion snuggles!

Smut under the cut.

For all Geralt was absolute crap at reading the room when it came to his own relationships, he was an expert when it came to those of his family. Something Lambert had never been more thankful for when the White Wolf made some absolute bullshit excuse and left Lambert and Aiden alone at the inn in their shared room after a shared dinner to "Talk or whatever. I'll be back in the morning."

He owed the older Wolf big time. First helping in tracking down Jad and then Aiden after they heard mention in a tiny village of a green eyed Witcher passing through some months ago. They'd worn no medallion and armour seemingly cobbled together from scraps, but Lambert had been adamant it couldn't possibly be anybody else.

He had absolutely no idea how he was even going to begin paying brother back, but that was a worry for when he wasn't sat in the middle of the narrow bed, stark naked and knuckles deep in his lover.

Aiden keened from where he was straddling the others hips as Lambert's need to take this slow warred with just pure need. The new scars criss crossing the Cats body - more sinewy than the last time they'd seen each other but no less appealing - were covered in red and purple love marks, the pupil of his remaining eye blown wide as damp strands of hair clung to his forehead and neck. The other had given as good as he'd got and had left Lambert's nipples deliciously tender from where he'd played with them until they were raw and he was pretty sure his back was absolutely covered in scratches by this point in the proceedings.

"Shit, Lambert please. I'm ready."

"You sure?" He asked, giving a shit eating grin as he twisted his fingers and caused the other to bite out one of the Elder curses Lambert remembered teaching him.

"Yes, I'm fucking sure. It's been almost two years. I'm not waiting a minute longer to have you in me."

Despite his insistence, Aiden's face still pinched in discomfort, followed by a brief bitter-sharp undercurrent of pain to his scent as he was breached.

"Woah, woah. You sure you're ok?" Lambert asked, stopping the others descent with a firm grip on his hips.

"I'm fine. Like I said, it's been almost two years."

Neither of them were sure how much time had passed until Lambert finally bottomed out, Aiden arching his back with a moan and a satisfied smile, "I missed you."

It was then it slammed into him like one of the mountain avalanches: This was Aiden! Aiden whimpering and writhing in his lap, Aiden tight and warm around him and so, so alive. Aiden was alive, and he was here!

"Lam?" A hand cupping his jaw brought him back. Concerned, green eye searching his face, "Where did you go just now?"

"Sorry, I -" Lambert faltered, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Do you need to stop?"

"No! I mean." He buried his face in Aiden's shoulder, "I don't want to stop but can we....just stay like this for a bit?"

"Oh, Lam. Come here." Aiden said, changing his bruising grip on the other to a gentle hug whilst Lambert pressed his nose hard against Aiden's neck, feeling the other press kisses to the top of his head.

"Pup, you're shaking."

"I'm fine, I'm fine. S'just you being here. Doesn't feel real."

"... Lambert, I need you to listen for a minute. Alright?"

Lambert nodded before he felt Aiden gently guide his head until one ear was pressed over his Witcher slow heart.

"Hear that? I'm real, this is real. I'm here."

Lambert gave a small whimper in response, still trembling with the sudden emotional upheaval as his hands wandered over every part of the other he could reach, the Cat only pausing in his litany of reassurances to give a small gasp when Lambert's fingers brushed over where they were joined, "That's it. You feel that? Me and you together again. Just as it should be, and that's how it's going to stay now."

"You promise?"

Aiden tilted the Wolf's head up, amber eyes full of emotions usually banked deep, deep down as he brushed their noses together.

"I promise."

-

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Sorry your fic just made me so feral I have to let it out ahhhhh the thought of all of that combined with Jason’s transformation… being reduced to instinct so completely and still feeling the same way about being fed on? Perhaps even more intensely? Yum

Dude. DUDE. NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR THAT this the feral zone, ok, I am right there with you skfjfjdkjs

Because YES. Y E S. I don't know how else to say it but you g e t me, ok, like that's!!! That's it!!! That's the fic!!!! It's Jason feeling this way about Tim, and the feeling is SO bone deep that even when he isn't in control of himself, he WANTS it. He craves it in an animal way. It's deep in his hindbrain to want it. He wants to be needed so fully, to be the source of sustenance and support, to provide. And for someone to want it too. To live because of him. To want him with them, always OwO

I'm insane about this concept, anon, you are in good company skdmffjsk

Jaytim for @ferreho-rocher for her bday today! <3

Happy bday babe!