Strats & Whiskey Write Stuff

“Money, power, or breeding rights.”

“What?”

Will blinked, lifting his eyes to Jack, who now stood much closer with his unintroduced companion a step behind him.

“Motive,” Will replied, setting his hands to his knees to lever himself up to stand. He peeled his gloves off and wiped his palms against his jeans. “The three most likely reasons for murder are always money, power, or breeding rights.”

“You’ll be happy to know there’s nothing wrong. You’ve got a small litter, that’s all, just the one pup.”

Will stiffened. “One?” It wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare.

“If I may, Mr. Graham, you’re very young to be having a litter,” the doctor said gently.

The Alpha glanced down at where Will’s hand rested, his face pinched. “Hannibal Lecter,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. You’ll need it for the paperwork.”

Will blinked at him. “It sounds like a supervillain name,” he said.

Will and Hannibal don't know each other. Not yet, anyway. But they already share a life.

“Hi,” Will said again, finding his smile impossible to contain when Hannibal blinked lazily at him. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Family emergency,” Hannibal replied, voice rough and quiet. Will’s smile ticked up a little at the corners and he narrowed his eyes.

“Family, huh?”

Trawling through cannibal forums on the darkweb, Will offers himself up as a victim with the caveat that he takes part in his own dismemberment and consumption. When a man answers his post and catches Will’s interest, he thinks they’ll be perfect for each other.

This is part of the Eat The Rude Big Bang 2020! We were so lucky to get to work with the lovely Alex, who created some sexy art for us! No dogs or cannibals are harmed in the process of this story, but Will loses a few limbs.

He wasn’t stupid, he was just adventurous. Occasionally he’d agree that he was a little bit reckless, but nothing to what Geralt was on a good day, let alone a bad one.

It just so happened to be a bad one when whatever Geralt had been trying to destroy decided it was far more interested in Jaskier instead of being repeatedly stabbed, so it rushed him.

Geralt claims that Witchers can't find - or be - bonded mates, that they never present a dynamic, that they're infertile and "not even like betas".

...but are they though?

“You know, Omega rights have come a long way since the times when Alphas spoke for them.”

“Rights suggest choices,” Will countered, snapping the lock on his satchel and swinging it over his shoulder. “And my choice is to have my Alpha dictate where my time is spent, professionally.”

“And privately?”

"And you," Geralt purred, nuzzling just behind Jaskier's ear. "Are disobedient, bratty, naughty."

"I am not!" Jaskier squeaked, wriggling back against Geralt, seeking out his warmth and weight. He didn't want to fuck, not really, not yet anyway. But this? This he could do.

"Naughty things get spanked," Geralt concluded. Jaskier cursed.

"You're not spanking me, I'm in a delicate disposition." Geralt snorted and Jaskier found himself smiling too. "You dragged me back, like some neanderthal, so just… lay on me if you must."

"If I must."