#jolly request

Jolly woke with a painful gasp. His chest ached fiercely, body heavy like lead with a chill that penetrated his bones down to the marrow. The ground beneath him was just as cold, and horribly hard. Slowly, his surroundings came into focus. Smooth, dark gray stone disappeared up into the ceiling where stalactites hung precariously, as well as protruded from the floor. Jolly couldn’t tell if there was still daylight or if the cave was just dark.

This definitely was not his boat.

Splashing caught his ear and he sat up quickly, instantly regretting it. The room spun round and round, pulsed, pulled at his brain until it throbbed. Jolly clutched his head and gasped, body shaking as he fought the urge to vomit.

"Oh, so you're not dead. How delightful!" A voice spoke.

Slowly, Jolly turned his head toward the sound and visibly recoiled.

Eyes blacker than night watched him, and a mouth full of too many teeth grinned. Human arms lined with iridescent fins crossed on the stone ground a few feet away as a head full of dripping wet ringlet curls rested on them. Peeking through the surface of the water was a large, bubble gum pink and seafoam green fish tail.

"Siren." He spat, disgusted.

The creature frowned. "That's some thanks for saving your life."

"Thanks for saving my life?" Jolly repeated. "Your kind beckons sailor's deaths so forgive me if I lack enthusiastic appreciation."

It looked at Jolly, pout plastered on its face, though it didn't appear as if it were attempting to garner sympathy, more so like a mockery.

"And your kind seeks mine for trophies and bragging rights." It smiled. "An eye for an eye, yes?"

Jolly wanted wanted to argue, but another wave of nausea inducing dizziness washed over him. He pressed his forehead to the cold stone beneath to ground himself.

“It’s so rare I get such a delicious looking treat all the way out here,” the creature grinned with all their teeth; they were sharp and jagged, like they’re meant for ripping flesh. “I do hope you’ll be staying a while—if you don't succumb first.”

After the first fourteen days and nights, Jolly lost count of how long he'd been resigned to the siren's home. He grew tired of fish. On occasion, the siren—who went by Will, but Jolly had been reluctant to call him by his name, up until he stopped responding to Siren—would bring him meats or sometimes a sweet confection. He didn't question how he obtained the foods, lest he discover Will lured other sailors to their demise.

By the time thirty days passed, he gave up any hope of ever seeing land again.

Some time around the first month, Will revealed he could walk on land. Jolly tucked away to desperately, loudly, pleasure himself—deep, rumbling moans, quick and spit slicked strokes all bounced off stone walls. Jolly hadn't heard his name being called or the damp footsteps approaching. His peak was rapidly approaching, but before it could crest, Will appeared. Jolly scrambled to cover himself, beat red embarrassed, and Will? Completely unbothered.

Despite his embarrassment, Jolly couldn't help his wandering gaze, noting each trail of water that followed every toned muscle of lightly sun kissed skin. Nothing about him screamed inhuman. His once black eyes were now normal, brown like his soaking wet hair, and the teeth peeking through his amused smirk were human. No fins, gills, no tail. Just… a very attractive, very naked, fit man.

At sixty days, pent up restlessness consumed him, his hand no longer sufficient enough to take off the edge, and exacerbated by naked images of Will plaguing his mind. Will had cheekily offered assistance when he first caught Jolly, which he declined, but now desperation sunk in, clinging to him like invasive urchins.

Jolly didn't bother hiding this time. He pleasured himself out in the open, leisurely dragging it out and tormenting his self to keep hard until Will returned. He had no way of knowing how long he would be gone or how much time had passed, but Jolly quickly began to tire of edging and his wrists grew sore. Frustration brewed until his bones itched and he could feel every blood cell flowing through his body. By a miracle,Jolly heard the familiar splashing of water letting him know Will had returned.

His name came in shallow, quiet breaths, heating his cheeks in shame. Approaching wet footsteps caused Jolly to speed up to once again bring himself to the edge, just to stop at Will's knowing and borderline condescending chuckle.

"You beg for me yet won't allow me to help?" Will cocked his head to the side.

Jolly swallowed the last of his pride. "I would like to ask now."

"Oh?" Will flashed his teeth. "And how would you have me?"

The question confused Jolly. He was well familiar and far from a stranger to sex with men; one does what one needs during long, grueling journey's at sea—and truthfully, he much preferred the male couplings to women. Unless Will was asking who was penetrating, in which Jolly usually was, but he didn't possess the strength or patience.

"I don't care," Jolly whispered, tears prickling his eyes. "I just need relief. Please, Will."

Will stood above him, unmoving, dark brown eyes boring into him, like he was studying Jolly, looking at him like prey. Jolly felt wholly vulnerable and exposed.

He began to hum, the solemn tune sinking deep in his ears and making them vibrate. Static slowly filled his head that spread through the rest of his body, heating him with warmth that was almost fuzzy. Almost comforting. Will held out a hand. Jolly grasped it without hesitation.

Hand in hand, gazes locked, Will led Jolly towards the water's edge. The smile he gave was unnerving, but it failed to phase through the fog swirling inJolly's brain. He was far too clouded by lust and…

"It's been a pleasure having you, Jolly."

Jolly was yanked into dark, bone chillingly cold water. The gasp caught in his throat was swiftly forced out as Will slammed him against cold stone. Gone was the attractive human man he plead for, replaced by the horrifying creature with the sharp grin and abysses for eyes he met first—yet, Jolly found himself not caring.

Something large and bulbous circled his hole, prodding and teasing with a mind of its own. Jolly tried to wiggle and get more stimulation, but Will clasped a strong hand on his throat. Small tendrils, around a dozen, maybe more, trailed along the thick vein on the underside of his erection. The appendage between his cheeks pressed, pressed, pressed against him until it finally popped inside to secrete a viscous liquid to allow a second, much larger bulb to notch. It pulsed as it thrust inside him, the first knot swelling as it went deeper and deeper while the other stayed in place, stretching him and keeping him in place.

At the same time, the tendrils wrapped around Jolly's length and squeezed. Three or four stroked over his tip, smearing and collecting his dribbling seed. Overwhelm washed over him all at once. If not for Will's hand on his throat, Jolly would have gone entirely limp and sank like a rock. His gasping, mindless moans were trapped beneath his grasp and grew dangerously light headed because of it.

"P…lease…" Jolly blinked one eye at a time; he was unsure if his plea was even audible. "Ple-ease…"

"Am I too much for you?" Will grinned, wide and wild, baring all his teeth. "Or are you begging for more?"

Jolly wasn't sure how much more he could take. Between his earlier efforts and Will's current, he was surprised he didn't immediately erupt. Jolly begged again. And again, until it all truly became too much and he cried, pitifully spilling his seed. A tendril slid and flicked at the slit, acting as lapping tongue. Inside him, the first bulb grew warm. Jolly felt it getting bigger and bigger, swelling to the size of the second and he swore even bigger. The pressure was intense, stretching him far beyond what should be possible, then in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

A thick, thick substance flooded Jolly. At some point, Will let up on his chokehold because Jolly heard the absolutely depraved and whorish moan that burst from his lungs. He was impossibly full, stuffed and plugged with foreign and fantastical sperm.

"What a shame I won't take," Will sighed, disappointed, "A waste of my seed."

Will Masterlist

Jolly Masterlist

It wasn't unusual for Nick to be aloof when transformed. It'd taken a considerable amount of trust for him to even be around Jolly during those times, and while his wolf wasn't totally feral or wild, he still has his moments. More than a few times a cheeky little nibble devolved into biting; one time Jolly needed stitches and Nick did not come visit for weeks, perhaps even a month or two because he felt so guilty.

So Jolly cherished the moments when Nick was comfortable, safe enough to lounge with him in his small little cottage. He slept the hardest transformed—and Jolly didn't mind his snoring as much when it was coming from a sleepy, gigantic wolf. He smiled softly at the slumbering beast stretched across his couch. Gently, Jolly placed a hand on his head, softly petting and affectionately scratching the space just between his eyes. Nick stretched, then sighed heavily. Jolly chuckled quietly.

Stealing you away wasn’t Jolly’s intention, but Noah made it so incredibly easy. Unintentionally neglectful and focusing mostly on music, it was almost fated that you found yourself in Jolly’s embrace time and time again. He knew the struggles of musicianship, but he managed it much better. Devoted and attentive, something Jolly has always been when it came to you—even before Noah swooped in and “stole” you from him.

Jolly felt for you both, he did—and the irony of him being the voice of reason and telling others to not let someone come between them wasn’t lost—but he’d be dishonest to claim he wasn’t a little happy the relationship fell apart.

It was torture for Jolly being able to hear your intimate moments with Noah. Now, behind a new door, it was him pulling those same noises from you—louder and more depraved. A sick satisfaction consumed him knowing Noah could undoubtedly hear. Perhaps he was sadistic, deriving pleasure from his friend’s suffering and becoming so unbearably hard at the idea of Noah crying into his pillow. Jolly could get off on that alone, he thinks.

Catching the two of you making a mess of his bed was Noah’s last straw. He left that very same day, only returning when he knew the house was empty to grab specific things. Beds were expensive, but he’d been wanting a new one anyway.

Long after his departure, Jolly still fucked you in Noah’s abandoned bed. It no longer held his scent, the citrus and musk replaced with the stench of sex, but if Jolly focused hard enough, he could still smell Noah—and that was all he needed.

Jolly Masterlist

Jolly’s watched him wither and bloom time and time again, growing stronger, bigger. A show stopping focal point in an otherwise crowded garden. Countless times he bore witness to others trying to care for him with no knowledge. He watched helplessly as they selfishly cut Noah’s blooms to decorate their spaces, trim his branches and leaves in an attempt to unnaturally shape him, and poison him with the wrong fertilizers.

For too long Jolly sat idle, afraid of doing further damage, but when the last gardener nearly killed Noah, he had to intervene. Signs were placed to deter others and Jolly did what he could to ensure Noah survived until the season was done. Throughout his dormancy, Jolly waited, anxious and fearful that he didn’t do enough. He checked everyday, but it was impossible to tell if his care was successful.

As the seasons changed and the weather warmed, so did Noah. Under Jolly’s watchful eye and delicately meticulous care, he blossomed—not the big, vibrant blooms of past years, but a bloom nonetheless. And that’s all Jolly could ever ask for. He knew it would take time to return to his former glory, and Jolly possessed the patience of a saint.

Jolly’s heart swelled with each passing season. Noah required less and less rigorous supervision and began flourishing all on his own, once more reclaiming his show stopping nature. Not once did Jolly ever ask for thanks. He simply did what he did to help a beloved friend in need.

But, it was difficult for Jolly to completely stop fussing over him. He still plucked and pruned what he thought necessary despite Noah’s protesting. He pulled every little weed at his feet in fear of them crowding him out. When it rained, he worried about the amount of water. During the hottest summer days, Jolly would stand in the scorching sun to provide Noah shade.

His once nurturing care turned suffocating. Noah recognized it was doing more harm than good, but no matter what he said or did, it didn’t click for Jolly. He didn’t notice his leggy growth or the diminished size of his flowers, or that there were less blooms than last year. Noah feared he would ultimately love him to death.

When all the petals dramatically dropped, Jolly panicked. He’d been so careful, how could this be happening? The once gentle hands that delicately caressed now caused harm. How could this happen? How could he of all people hurt Noah? Tears flowed like waterfalls, flooding the soil with more than it could absorb.

Hands that were once too weak to push off the ground softly cradled his jaw and eyes that were once devoid of life stared back at him, now illuminated and bright.

“You have to stop, Jolly.” Noah whispered quietly. “I am fine.”

Jolly blinked, staring blankly and confused.

“You’re smothering me.”

Jolly stumbled through apologies, through explanations for being overbearing. Noah just simply nodded with an understanding smile, stroking the tops of his cheeks to halt the rivers still trickling from his panicked eyes. He knew it came from a place of deep love, knew how devastated he was every time someone stomped their way through him. He understood—but Noah needed Jolly to understand he was causing the same type of harm.

It took Noah uprooting himself and finding a space in a new garden for Jolly to snap out of his head—but the clarity was short lived. Seeing him flourish by himself filled him with pride and jealousy, almost resentment, especially when Noah decided to keep him at arms length. He felt slighted, like all his work meant nothing to him—all his love meaningless.

Noah no longer held the shape Jolly gave him, choosing instead to grow wild and unkempt. He still remained the same, still bloomed the same colors, grew the same leaves. Noah was still Noah, but not to Jolly. His Noah looked different; his Noah didn’t push him away.

He grit his teeth and forced a smile, for Noah and the band's sake.

Jolly watched Noah wither and bloom time and time again, growing stronger, bigger. A show stopping focal point in an otherwise crowded garden that he once cared so intimately for. And Jolly supposed he still does, just from a distance, and perhaps it’s a version that he doesn’t want to admit no longer exists.

Jolly Masterlist

Noah Masterlist

Lyric Prompt Masterlist 2

Tags: @jestersnotebook @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @sitkowski @ferduttini @lacy1986

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t Jolly. Cold blooded, cruel. Evil. Just plain evil. Torturing his meals just because he can. Laughing in their faces as they beg for mercy, only to snap their neck in front of their loved one. Try as Nicholas might, he couldn’t reach Jolly. Nothing appealed to his dormant humanity. Nicholas held every key, every combination to every lock Jolly possessed—he should have the answer to this one, but evidently not.

It was horrifying to witness, but impossible to look away from—like a fiery, fifteen car pileup on the world's busiest highway during a disastrous storm. Nicholas’ stomach turned in disgust while Jolly wore the brightest and biggest smile he’s ever seen.

His heart broke with every ruthless and meaningless kill and Jolly’s seemed to grow three times its size each time.

On his hands and knees, Nicholas pled, desperately clutching the fabric of Jolly’s pants to keep him where he stood.

“Please, I’m begging you. Stop this.” His throat ached and his eyes burned with tears. “This isn’t you, Joakim. This is not who I fell in love with. This isn’t who I gave my heart to.”

Before he could blink, Nicholas found himself on his back, the air sufficiently knocked out of him. Jolly had him pinned, his eyes pitch black and soulless and fangs bared.

“I am who I have always been.” He growled. “I treat the world with the same inhumane cruelty it has me. I bow to no one. I answer to no one.”

Nicholas screwed his eyes shut, unable and unwilling to continue looking at this… this monster.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, pet.”

Reluctantly, Nicholas obeyed and was still met with the same unkind glare.

“It would be wise to remember your fucking place. I gave you a second life. You are mine. I am not yours. You are a servant, a willful follower.”

“That… that’s all I am to you?” Nicholas croaked. “I mean nothing?”

Jolly’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

“You are but a plaything, a pet—a rather cute yet yappy pet who needs to learn to speak when spoken to.”

The fabricated feel of fangs sinking into his neck woke Nicholas with a start. He shot upright, gasping for breath and frantically felt for teeth marks. His skin was blemish free. And like every other moment of distress, he instinctively reached for the crystal hanging around his neck.

Nicholas refused to close his eyes; he feared flashbacks of that nightmare. Instead, he stared blankly into the dark of his room. Though he grew up between these four walls, it’s never felt so unfamiliar and foreign.

“Nicky?” A soft knock accompanied a female voice. “Are you okay? You were screaming.”

“Yes ma’am.” Nicholas cleared his throat. “It was just… a bad dream. Sorry if I woke you and dad.”

He heard a faint chuckle.

“Oh you know your father. The man doesn’t wake up for anything. Are you sure you’re okay? Can I bring you anything?”

“I’m fine, honest.”

He knew she wasn’t convinced, but didn’t pry any farther. She bid him goodnight, promising him his favorite breakfast in the morning.

When he was sure his mother had gone, Nicholas collapsed back onto his bed. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he threw his arm across his face.

“Jolly,” Nicholas whispered, voice nothing but pained rasp, “do the nightmares ever stop?”

Jolly Masterlist

Ruffilo Masterlist

There’s so little space in those bunks, you’re bound get some unintentional or intentional bump and grind. It was all too tempting to push your ass against Jolly to get a rise out of him and listen to him struggle to stay quiet. His teeth sunk into your shoulder to stifle the low moan threatening to alert everyone on the bus.

You turned around to face him, your mischievous smirk hidden in the dark.

“Try not to be noisy, yeah?” You cooed, sliding your hand down the front of his boxers and wrapping around his cock.

Jolly grabbed your waist with a bruising grip. His voice was a hoarse whisper against your lips. "Fuck, you're killing me here.”

You felt his tongue graze your lips when he licked his. Slowly, you moved your hand, teasing him just enough to earn you another rough caress. Jolly thrust into your hand; the confined space made it difficult, but he managed to find a nice rhythm. He did his best to stay quiet, but your hand was so much softer and warmer than his. He couldn’t help but let out an occasional, louder than necessary sigh followed by a deep groan. You shushed him.

The sudden kick from below started you both.

“Hey, can you guys knock it off? Some of us are actually trying to sleep.” Matt said rather loudly.

Embarrassed, you tried to pull your hand from him but Jolly grabbed your wrist.