A companion's dilemma Ch.1 (reupload)

By spurged

Tears streamed down your face as you wheezed painfully, doubled over as pain shot through your side. Your muscles ached, bile threatened to push up through your stomach as you fought to inhale any air. This was it, you knew immediately if this went on you’d likely die.


“I can’t,” you wheezed loudly, hands drawing up to your face as you began to crumple. Tears bursting out of you. “I can’t do this. I can’t,” you sucked in air, your breathing harsh and ragged as you finally collapsed, pulling your limbs in as your diaphragm flexed and contracted involuntarily, painfully.


Deep belly laughs ripped out of you as tears continued to pool out of your eyes and you couldn’t help follow this up with a pained groan. You pulled your arms in as you leaned further back in your chair, wheezing loudly as you fought the response. You couldn’t help it, you had always been weak against inappropriate slapstick and something about the way the baphomet character slammed into the wall and let out a wail while the tone of the horror game itself immediately tickled that weakness.


Now you sat here, bathed in the light of your computer while you streamed the gameplay to the internet; something that had stopped being a hobby and slowly morphed into a career path. Early on you had decided to be careful, not just with yourself but your viewers. You weren’t keen on the idea of recreating ethot-simp culture in the wonderful world you had found yourself in after you had reluctantly found yourself falling into being an ‘entertainer’. Large imposing words flickered across the screen indicating that the game was paused.


Your rules were simple: you never showed more than your hands, never said anything provocative or lewd, and made sure inherently to always have a generally warm friendly air about yourself but nothing more than that; you were allowed to be a friend in terms of presentation, one who was either too dense for romance or not option anyways. Popularity wasn’t a problem and you had quickly secured yourself as a bit of a spectacle and trustworthy source for game reviews.


“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, collapsing against your desk as you wheezed into your microphone. “I-I can’t, my stomach… the pain,” you groaned, wiping at your face as your vision blurred under the unrestrained tears. The light of the screen stinging your eyes. A bell rung out as the lighting from the screen changed, something you could see even with your obscured vision.


==Looks like Anon likes to laugh at baphs. How will sab-mems ever recover?==


Your computer read out in a halting, mechanical voice and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief as you slowly began to be broken out of your giggle fit; the chat log no doubt overflowing with snide remarks and a brewing argument. The various fans who touted you as ‘ideal’ would obviously begin arguing. Your muscles relaxed, though you were still pained with slight spasms as you sat there and simply breathed against your desk. As your breathing slowed, you sat up and checking the time, realized that maybe it really was time to go ahead and stop.


“Well, guys…,” you breathed, fighting a chuckle that tried to bubble up inside you, “It’s actually been over three hours. It’s uh…,” you groaned, “My stomach, it hurts so bad to laugh. That shouldn’t have been funny. Look, I’ll see you guys later and we’ll keep working on this game later tomorrow, in the meantime I need to go workout and stuff.” your eyes danced to the computer screen, the chat immediately seizing on your ‘and stuff’ comment. A few opining that you might have a girlfriend, that you were secretly a girl, and even that maybe you had a real job somewhere. Out of all the various ideas or put forth things, the job theory cut the worst. Sure this world with Mamono was great, but the lack of real work for a single guy really did tend to wound your pride. Almost everything you currently had was from a government stipend for outworlders and as a result of your streaming, well that and your other hobby. “Look, we all have lives outside of this. Go live, spend time with people you love and I’ll see you all next time.” And with that, you ended the stream on the spot.


Slowly you went about your post stream routine. Usb connections were slowly yanked from your computer, piece by piece removing the connection to your webcam, capture card, and even microphone. Then, meticulously you close out everything before finally shutting down the machine. Once it was all done and down, you got up and began to change your clothes for your ‘stuff’.




Your stipend you received from the government covered a good amount of things, but not always enough. That's part of why your hobby of gaming had slowly turned into a bit of a career, but likewise, it barely covered anything as you were more concerned with actual quality and growing something rather than producing salacious material and manipulating people. The way you really made your money, your other ‘stuff’, was the stuff you had inadvertently mentioned. You had tried to assimilate to the cultural standards, but knowing how things worked was often confusing and bizarrely backwards, which is how you had somehow ended up in the stuff you did. You still didn’t know or understand so much.


It sounded worse than it actually was but maybe that was because Mamono were odd about things, though it didn’t stop you from occasionally feeling like a villain. You provided companionship at a slight premium, basically working as what some would refer to as a ‘very high class’ escort. Getting paid to go on dates, have fancy dinners, and just be a good piece of eye candy. Its not as if you were having sex with any of the girls who hired you, at least not actual sex, of which your client pool was fairly small as again you prioritized quality over everything else. Sure you were a hooker, basically, but one that worked hard at ensuring everything was actually perfect for your client.


You meticulously scheduled everything in such a way that your five clients would never have to know about the others, they clearly knew on an existential level, but after realizing mamono could even smell residual contact you went out of your way to make sure it never happened. Of each of them you knew their likes and dislikes, the names of their relatives, what they did for a living, and most importantly what made them feel special and cared for. You were hired to make them feel like the only girl who mattered and you made sure to your damndest to fulfill that. You were a professional, kind of.


Your clients had been selected with various particular issues involved with mamono culture in mind, at least with what you could make sense of, something in you ached for each of them over the fact that some would consider them somehow undesirable, something that resonated with you deeply. Lately each of them had begun to catch you somewhat off guard and you found yourself making mistakes that you shouldn’t have. Eyes and touches lingering for too long, catching words in your throat before uttering something you shouldn’t, and even on a few occasions you had forgotten yourself and been far too forward; though this was only typically happening with Morrigan, your first client, who didn’t seem to mind your fingers being interlaced with hers. If things kept going on like they were, you’d have to either quit or allow yourself to be claimed, something that stabbed at your heart to even consider. Would the other girls be okay without you? How would they react in regards to one of the others snatching you up? You weren’t heartless but the ache of it was concerning, you had to be professional.


As you finished getting ready, you checked yourself in your bathroom mirror for one last quick look over. You were thankful to a degree that mamono were oddly sweet and accepting, none your clients ever seemed to care about minor superficial appearance issues, not that any of them had ever asked you to dress or appear any particular way; aside from Morrigan, which had only happened once for her birthday and seemed to be more about the particulars of getting to show you off to her work associates at a fancy bar more so than anything, your jeans and sandals that finished off that tuxedo top really seemed to hammer that home. Taking a swipe at your messy hair, your mind turned back to Morrigan and what tonight would entail as you headed off.


It was the first of the month and for the next five days you were hers, outside of time set aside for yourself and your needs, the majority of the coming week would be spent with your first and oldest client. She was easily some three hundred years old and while you had been absolutely confused as to why she had never been involved with anyone, it had become abundantly clear once you met her. As you locked your apartment’s front door, you shook away some errant thoughts and began your march over to where the two of you would rendezvous.




You sat there with your small coffee, eyeing the small horned woman across from you and unable to prevent yourself from grinning like an idiot. Morrigan sat across from you, her onyx colored eyes pouring across your face as she tried to maintain a serious look. One of her rather fluffy paws reached up and tucked a sliver of shock red hair behind one of her large and thick fur covered ears, as she continued to try to maintain an imperious look and not cave to your smile.


“C’mon, you only act like this when it's something you’re worried about. Who could be worse than your boss?” you chided as memories of when she had brought you along as a date to her company flooded in. Morrigan’s boss wasn’t bad at all, she actually was the perfect image of what a lady should be, aside from being a demon anyways. Morrigan simply grumbled nearly silently, breaking eye contact with you as her face flushed. “What was that?”


“My mother.” she grumbles, looking away from you in embarrassment. You paused, swallowing from some source of unknown worry.


"Well… What about her?" You asked, going for a sip of your coffee and hoping the hot liquid would help calm the sudden onset of concern. "You didn't say we were dating or anything… Did you?" You couldn't help the stab of loneliness that came with asking it, mostly because of the true nature of your relations and almost secretly you hoped it would be the case. You knew better though, Morrigan wasn't stupid enough to do something ridiculous like that, though anything involving you seemed to make her clumsy and alittle clueless. Salt instead of sugar, accidentally throwing things away while carrying around trash, and even walking straight into a wall; all were caused by some level of distraction that you were the source of, but she never lost any of her real sense.


"No." Her face flushed brightly, grimacing as she uttered the answer. Likely thinking and feeling the same as you; secretly hoping she had and trying to rope you out of your other clients and work for some ridiculous familial shenanigans, and feeling an odd ache that it wasn't the case. "She's just coming to visit and it coincides with our next set of appointments, I’d rather she not know about this…," her voice cracks, eyes locking with yours as she begins to look disappointed, worry bubbling up on her face. "I-I uh… I know for some… professionals that can be a big deal and w-"


"Ill see about shuffling things around so you don't actually lose any time." You cut her off quickly, realizing where she was going with it. Some guys with a similar situation as yours would often just drop girls at the first sign of any inconvenience or try to push for some kind of retainer just because they had to wait, even long standing clients who they had known for years; or so you had heard through an elicit Zipangu basketweaving and cartoon forum. Morrigan had never missed any of her scheduled time before and the issue had never really come up, outside of the odd dates or events she seemed mostly to be a bit of a homebody. Not that that mattered, you wouldn’t abandon anyone. Reaching out quickly you grasped at her fluffy paw, squeezing it before begining to weave your fingers between her larger digits. "If you'd like, that is, I can't promise anything yet. Im not… I know you depend on me and rely on me to help with your stress and how you feel, I won't abandon you. Especially because you want to spend time with your family."


Morrigan again broke eye contact, blushing furiously as she began to nervously chew on her lips. Gently she squeezed at your fingers and sipped at her own drink to appear a bit more aloof than she actually was as her goat-like ears twitched happily.


"W-would I owe an-" she starts and you immediately feel your stomach begin to drop out.


"Dinner." You interject quickly, your chest aching. Did she really think you'd want a bigger payment after knowing you for so long? It's not like being an escort for Mamono was particularly noble or had specific mores attached to work, but you did. Your rate was more than fair and basically a formality, you only did this to meet the shorter end of your bills. You felt like you had a real, albiet not overly sexual, relationship with each of your clients; Morrigan in particular. "Not delivery, no take out. I want you to make me dinner, from scratch. You could do it tonight if you'd like." This earns you a squeeze at your fingers, her eyes peering curiously into yours while most of the worry boils away, leaving hope instead.


"W-well is there anything in particular you'd like?" She asked curiously, fishing for an easier answer.


"Anything is fine, just no salty cake thi-"


"That was one time! And it was your own fault Anon." She huffs loudly, pulling her hand from yours as she scowls in an over dramatic way. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot which only went to make her scowl harder at you as she began to grumble. You had accidentally spilled your drink all over yourself and simply peeled off the wet clothing, that's all it took to apparently melt her brain enough for her to confuse her container of salt for the near identical container of sugar.


"Even though it wasn't edible, I'll always be grateful that you tried to make me something." Immediately the scowl was dropped as she looked away, obviously embarrassed as she began to fidget in her seat, her cup of tea migrating to between her two paws. An awkward silence takes hold, her onyx eyes glancing up to catch yours before she glances down at the drink in her hands.


"Could we… maybe go?" She asks, glancing out towards the small cafés parking lot. "It doesn’t have to be my place but just whatever…,"


"I'm yours for the better part of the entire week. We can do whatever you’d like Morrigan.” you flash a bright smile, the statement itself making warmth bloom inside you. “What did you want to do?” you asked, as you began to mentally run through a list of possible place or things the little homebody Mamono might want from you.




You sighed, leaning back in the hot water of the large bathtub trying to let the disappointment melt away with the heat of the water. You had had all sorts of expectations as the two of you left the cafe, something that in retrospect you probably shouldn’t have. You couldn’t help it though, her tone and mannerisms were completely different than usual.


Would she be taking you to see a movie and ask for you to feed her popcorn? Maybe the zoo for an afternoon date until it was time for them to close? She did have an odd fascination with hippos. Maybe she was wanting something more traditional for a date like a nice, quiet dinner? No.


Instead you were here in the little anti-social homebody Baphomet’s bathtub, face burning somehow hotter than the water as you waited on her to join you; not that you would trade it for anything else. You weren’t entirely sure how any of this had happened, but you had found yourself going about drawing the bath for the two of you after a few soft words from the petite woman. Not that you minded at all, but going to places and doing things with someone you enjoyed being around had it’s own appeal; but then again, vegetating on the couch with her while binge watching movies didn’t sound bad at all.


“Anon,” Morrigan starts, stepping back into the bathroom from whatever she had been up to while you had drawn it. She was completely nude, towel grasped tightly in one paw which she unceremoniously tossed to the floor with a flick before eyeing you. Her smooth and taunt body pulled your attention and despite what most thought of Baphomets, you knew they were quite shapely and carried decent curves; just not upstairs typically. “Could you… do that thing?” She asks nervously, moving in such a way to try and cover herself without actually making a show of it.


“What thing?” you ask back, grin plastering on your face as you hoped for an opportunity to egg her on and force her to say it. Immediately her face twists into a pout, an annoyed grumble coming from her.


“Y-you know-”


“What do I know?” you teased, shifting in the large tub as you move to the side of it as you eye her.


“Anon,” she whined, hoof nervously tapping at the floor tiles as she broke eye contact. “P-please, you know what I want.”


“And you know what I want,” you smirk, moving back to the back of the tub and laying back against the wall of it. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. Ask me properly.” Morrigan simply groans at this, before nearing the tub more fully and glaring at you through a beet red face.


“I… p-please use your tongue.” she whimpers out, her features softening a bit as one of her paws draws low and clasps at her sex, her face somehow seeming to glow a brighter red. “I wan- I need you to lick me.” you don’t have to be told anything else, you silently move and sit in the center of the tub and extend your arms over the edge for her. Instantly she’s in your arms as you lift her up and onto the edge of the tub, your hands falling and grasping at her hips as you move closer.


“That wasn’t so hard was it?” you ask, grinning like a cheshire as you move her legs into a better position. Morrigan simply places her face in her paws and exhales loudly as she begins to tremble in anticipation, her body already awaiting you.


“You’re so mean.” she groans, peeking down at you between her fingers.


“But you never reprimand me for it, or demand I stop.” you reply, planting a kiss high on her inner thigh as you as you slowly press closer in between her legs. Her heady scent meeting you, something warm and tangy that always manages to tickle your brain and make you worry that one of these days something may go too far. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if it did, would it? “It’s enough to make a guy think you like being bullied.” This only gets you a whimper and you respond by planting another kiss higher up on her other thigh before casting your eyes directly up at her and waiting.


An awkward silence begins to fill the room as you sit in the tub and wait, staring up at her while she keeps her face covered. The only sound either of you hear is each other breathing at a slow and steady pace. A whine interrupts the silence as her paws are pulled away from her face, a desperate look playing out across her face as she looks down at you.


“Y-you are the worst,” she stutters as she begins to pout, but complies in what has been a long running ritual of requiring her eye contact before you’d give her what she wanted. “W-why do you always d-do that?” Her onyx colored eyes bear down on you, her red face contrasting with her fiery red hair.


“Because I enjoy bullying you.” you answer before diving in and drawing a loud gasp from her. You work your tongue over her rapidly, her paws grasping at your head and tugging at handfuls of hair. It takes a moment of working over her slick flesh, but you find your prize and in moments Morrigan is trembling, moaning, and bucking against your face. Mercilessly you use your tongue to assault her nub, her legs wrapping around your head and forming the comfiest earmuffs that ever were. It takes only moments before her breath begins to hitch and deep shudders rip through her body, a soft wailing moan emanating out of her.


Morrigan’s tone rises, moving from a soft low wail that makes you wish you could just take her to an almost reserved scream. The shuddering of her petite body building into a full crescendo of shaking against you as she fights to be able to keep bucking against your face. Her juices run down your face and chest, the scent of it all burning at your brain as a furry paw touches at your shoulder. Nothing about it registers as strange.


“Oooo, where did you learn that?” a voice asks from next to your ear, and then the oddity of the paw on your shoulder suddenly clicking as you pull yourself from Morrigan’s thighs. Morrigan’s pleasured vocalizations suddenly breaking down into a strangled sound of shock.


“M-mom!?” Morrigan belts out as you simply bury your face against her stomach, as you find yourself unwilling to pull away from her. Your face was burning, your world practically spinning, as you felt like you might just die. It wasn’t as if any of this was illegal per se, but almost religious devotion to being chaste till marriage and true love certainly weren’t going to help any particular perception of you as a paid ‘companion’.


“Hey there kiddo, is this your boyfriend?” The tone is playful, almost teasing with an amused lit to it. All you can do is hold onto Morrigan for dear life as you felt like your world was spinning. You had only ever met a client’s mother once before, Mrs. Fong, who had actually hired you for her daughter; the Zipangu mamono were different. But this was nowhere near that kind of awkward but understandable, this was just odd and jarring. Your heart hammered in your chest as you dared not to move or look.




The next several minutes are nothing but an awkward, painful silence. Morrigan struggling to find words as she opened and shut her mouth several times before settling for just burying her face into your hair. An exasperated sigh comes from the behind you before you feel a nude form press against your back as a paw traces shapes over your back.


“Alright then,” she grumbles, tapping at your shoulder, “Listen, rental-boy, could you just hop out for a bit. Maybe like twenty, thirty minutes or so? Maybe grab me a drink from the kitchen?” your breath hitches in your throat, as you struggle to articulate a response. What could you say? “Don’t worry, it’s not like your meal is going anywhere.”


“Mom,” Morrigan mewls out, her voice cracking, pulling away from you to look at her. The imagined stare down continues for a moment or so before you feel the interloper’s paws grasp at your shoulders from behind. “Please…,”


“Oh don’t start.” The older woman’s tone is dismissive though still carries the amused lit in it. “It’s not like I’m going to try to hire him or anything. I won’t lie, I’m not pleased that you’re doing this, not to mention how wasteful this probably is. You used to be so res-”


“Just tell me why you’re here.” Morrigan spouts, gently pushing at you to let you know that you could let go; the initial shock of it all apparently wearing off. Or was it bravery welling up from the admittance that she wouldn’t try to solicit your services? Part of you hoped not, you had thought Morrigan knew you better than that; despite the transactional form of your relationship, you were admittedly cheaper than most girls' boyfriends. Your service fees, much like your schedule, were meticulously determined to make sure there wouldn’t be any issues at all. Morally it was pretty grey, but you did try to keep things reasonably affordable and build a real connection with them. The mixed bag of clients you had was proof of that. As you pulled away from the small woman, you did your best to keep your eyes at shoulder height as you caught sight of the older woman. If anything she was nearly a photocopy of Morrigan, though her hair was auburn and horns larger with more twists in them and the slight wrinkles and crow's feet on her face hinting to the truth of her actual age.


“Today’s the first.” she states matter of factly, throwing her hands to her hips as she scowled at her daughter. “You were supposed to pick me up from the the thaumtur-hub, at least there’s an understable reason why.” she spits out, despite the apparent disappointment that amused lit still remains throughout it all. You snorted, a slight ashamed feeling coming over you; this was likely, to a degree, your fault. Just another thing to put on a list of things you caused by melting Morrigan’s brain. Morrigan just let out a groan and put her head in her paws, your face immediately splitting into an involuntary grin.


“I’ll uh…,” you paused, biting your lip as you fight to not laugh. “Here, let me get that drink for you. Just don’t be to harsh on Morrigan, it’s kind my fault she for-”


“I noticed.” her eyes meet yours and your anxiety about the situation melts away immediately. There isn’t any anger, nor even disappointment, but rather much like her voice had hinted: amusement. The way her eyes played on her face made it apparent, which only puzzled you. Why couldn’t Morrigan tell? Was she just that anti-social?


“Well I’ll just go ahead an-” you started to stand up, making sure to face away from her mother and cover yourself.


“Anon don’t.” Morrigan snatched at you, her small form hiding the strength necessary to actually pull you over. “Please… just stay.” you pause, looking between the two of them with confusion and worry. Morrigan’s mother simply nods to you in an almost knowing way before moving to an opposing side of the tub.


“Fine then.” she mutters, crossing her arms before slumping down in the water, “We’ll just hash this out here with him then.” Her onyx eyes glare at the two of you, but the same amused look doesnt leave. Morrigan grumbles, looking somewhat put off at the prospect. Whatever, this had to be resolved one way or another and the awkwardness of it all had to end, if that meant being stuck listening in on a lecture you were resigned to it.


Reaching out you grabbed at Morrigan, earning a yelp, as you moved and brought her down with you into the tub. Gently situating her on your lap, partially to ensure nothing was between the two Baphs but also to function as a makeshift cover for yourself. Nudity around your clients, or even their own around you, often put you on edge unless you were used to them; being nude around a client and her mother simultaneously, while your mind did wander to baser things, it was concerning and you weren't in a position or had a desire to be claimed; let alone how awkward all of this was. Morrigan glanced back at you, her paws touching at your thighs as her face burned before resigning herself to the incoming lecture.






The conversation they had had was tense, a couple times you had caught yourself tearing up and feeling as if things were getting too heavy, all while inadvertently learning things about Morrigan you would have never suspected. You knew it was only a matter of time that you’d have to address what you had heard with her, or possibly never see her again. Money or not, you weren’t sure you were comfortable with that. Hell, if you could suddenly make ends meet you’d likely just keep meeting all of them. Given those circumstances would the girls even go for that? Didn’t Mamono require monogamy? While psuedo-dating was nice, and actually dating would be better, you weren’t getting any younger and you occasionally found yourself thinking about children; much like you had during the lecture.


Her mother had become concerned, well, several decades ago when she hadn’t kept pace with any of her peers and apparently figured it had to do with her father passing. While the life expectancy wasn’t anything to sneeze at, you had absently wondered at times about how general issues of life worked for the longer lived mamono; now you knew. They weren’t different, except maybe that they seemed to be even more attached to their loved ones. Seventy years and Morrigan couldn’t move on, her own younger sister had already gotten married and was on her fourth child.


Words had been harsh, both of them had cried and yelled at times throughout. Each of them had also inadvertently insulted you at times, only to break tempo and suddenly apologize. But throughout, you couldn’t help but wish your own relationship with your parents had been this strong; not that you’d want to hash things out while naked in a tub with them. Now you were in the kitchen, clothed in a set of worn out shorts and a rather faded out t-shirt.


Now the awkwardness that hung painfully in the air still hadn’t dissipated yet. The two of them sat at the kitchen table now clothed in sweats and other general lounging wear, a rather simple dinner you had slapped together filling the room with the smell of a roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and rolls. You had caught the look of approval from the older baph as you set a plate of food before her, her daughter suddenly glaring at her.


“Look,” She started as you went about plating Morrigan’s dinner. “How about I drop all of this, alright? But I want one thing from you,” She simply huffs in response, rolling her eyes dramatically.


“What?” her tone is flat, nearly emotionless, and seeping over with the sound of exhaustion. You couldn’t blame her, she likely was rather emotionally exhausted all things considered. She had been caught by her own mother having hired a companion, had a lecture-argument about her father who had passed, and while it hadn’t been explicitly stated the implication that she was somehow a failure seemed to permeate things. Gently you placed her plate in front of her, having made sure it was arranged the way that she liked, before setting to work on getting your own food.


“I want you to stop seeing Anon,” She glances at you, shooting you a sympathetic look for a moment. Immediately Morrigan flinches and grimaces before a heavy blush takes over her face. “A-at least like this.”


“Mom,” it came out as a whimper as she looked away and with little else you can do but sit next to her with your own plate; your hand snaking out underneath the table and touching gently at her knee. Some of the stress melted out of her, one of her furry paws grabbing up your hand tightly.


“You need something real not…,” she trails off, eyes meeting yours tentatively before snapping back to her daughter. “Sorry, I don’t mean t-”


“It’s okay. I understand,” you follow back quickly as you grasped at your fork, toying with your potatoes. Morrigan opting to take a deep draw of her drink. “You want her to be happy and have a healthy relationship, maybe even to give you even more grandki-” Morrigan chokes, water coming from her nose momentarily as she begins to cough violently, her mother however just smiles softly. “That uh… you clearly want what's best for her overall.” your hand is squeezed roughly by Morrigan.


“Thank you Anon,” she replies, now similarly to you half prodding her food before glancing at her daughter again.


“If you don’t mind…,” you start, floundering as you realize what you’re wanting to say, but it’s not like things could get worse. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I’ll talk to Morrigan about things an-”


“A-anon,” Morrigan starts, tugging on your hand and looking at you with a touch of desperation and fear. Did she really think you’d just leave? It’s not as if you were a prostitute or anything, but then again you didn’t run your ‘business’ like other companions at all; at least not all like what was described by those guys on the zipangese hentai enthusiast forum. You were pretty certain most of it was bullshit. Maybe.


“It’ll be okay.” You spit out quickly, not even really thinking. Whatever it was about Morrigan made you usually just react, or push; maybe you had fallen for her. But then again it was like that with each of your girls, just differently for each one. Morrigan drew out a want to touch and hold her, something you were more than happy to do. “We’ll talk about it okay?” you do your best to try and convey a look to try and communicate that she didn’t need to worry; well outside of how things would need to change in regards to whatever the two of you would end up deciding. Would she even want you?


You were jobless, involved with a handful of other women, and had nothing to offer except for yourself. Granted, for some Mamono that would be more than enough but it didn’t feel enough to you. Could you feel content trying to give it your all as a house-husband? Would you be able to feel like you were doing enough for her? You weren’t sure.


There were other issues to consider as well. What if she didn’t want you? You were just a ‘rentalboy’ after all? What about your other clients? At the very least you knew for a fact that Biyu, her mother, and Nina likely wouldn’t let you go without a fight. Mrs. Fong, Biyu’s mother, in particular absolutely wouldn’t allow for it without some kind of confrontation; that was something you’d bet money on. You weren’t so much as ‘companion’ in her eyes, so much as high grade consort for her daughter in some kind of weird eastern traditional thing. Nina however was a different kind of beast all together, she was an Akaname and had been so starved for any kind of attention it had actually frightened you. So definitely wouldn’t go all yandere animu girl about things, would she?


Dinner went on with little else in terms of conversation. A few things here and there, but nothing of consequence or importance until everything was over and Sara, Morrigan’s mother, requested a glass of wine. And just as quickly as she appeared, she had left with only a murmur of an apology to you and a reminder to Morrigan that she’d want to spend time with her as they had originally planned.




As soon as the front door was shut, you found yourself being roughly embraced by the petite woman. Tears wetting your shirt low on your chest. All you could do was gently run your fingers through her hair, as you held onto her.


“Anon,” Morrigan mutters, “Go get in my bed.”


The rest of the night was spent holding her against you, your hands stroking her hair or horns occasionally while the two of you occasionally spoke more at each other than to, each of you slipping into small blurbs about what you wanted or how you felt.


“I want to keep you Anon, it’s just… I dunno,” she mumbles out, her voice sounding pained by whatever particular scenario was playing out in her head.


“You can,” you answer back softly, the first proper answer to anything so far. “Its just… things will get complicated. I don’t even have a job Morrigan, a-”


“And the others.” she finishes for you, the pain in her voice evaporating for whatever reason. Did she not necessarily mind that you were seeing them?


“I… you know I’m different, because of where I’m from.” you state, worrying about how to phrase what you wanted. “So it wouldn’t be like I’d mind not having a job, it's just… it's a matter of personal pride. Wanting to take care of you and have you be proud o-” lips crashed roughly against yours as a hot breath washed over your face, her fuzzy paws grasping at your face clumsily while tears began to streak down her face while her face burned a dark red that rivaled her hair.


“S-stupid, just shut up. Just hold me and let me worry about that.” the two of you just laid there, the slow rhythm of each other's breathing complimenting each other. A paw touched at your chest, her claws drawing down on you which caused you to shiver as it went all the way down before grasping at the hem of your shorts before releasing them. “W-we could… right now.” Her voice drips with the same kind of tone that she usually took if you teased too much, or talked at length about having a ‘meal’ of her. “B-but the others… you still need to let them know.”


“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice coming out strained. Why did this have to be so complicated? Of course as a Mamono she’d bother to consider everyone else involved. Why couldn’t she just want to run away and disappear?


“I-it’s okay Anon,” her own voice waivers, “Besides, you’ll need to let them know. You’ll do that for me… w-won’t you? T-the very first thing I’ll ask of you as mine?” She asks, the nervousness in her voice painfully apparent, something that drew inexplicable tears to your eyes.


“I will, but what if…?” you ask worriedly, voice cracking with emotion. Biyu and Nina coming to mind in particular, while


“W-we’ll come to that when… i-if it happens.” Morrigan mutters, face blushing darkly as she holds onto you tightly. “Until then, just hold me.” And slowly in the dark, the two of you drifted off to sleep, most of everything being forgotten as the sounds and sensation of one another took hold.


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