Heat and Run
Synopsis: being married to a hybrid has its adjustments. Having to help your husband through his ruts is one of them
Feat: gris, bro, enjin, tamsy, corvus, zodyl x afab!wife!reader (individual)
content: hybrid!au, human!reader, size kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, knots, breeding, subby!enjin (cause I said so), mating press, implied marathon sex, oral (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pússydrunk men
a/n: I don’t care if half these hybrids don’t actually go through a “rut.” My fanfic. My rules. I tried to make them all equal length by my Gris bias is showing T^T
Master list- here w/c-6.6k (average 1k each)
Gris Rubion - Wolf
Being married to a wolf hybrid is the equivalent of having a golden retriever for a husband.
Gris is clingy by nature, but lives to please and take care of you. He quite literally worships the ground you walk on, and it’s his mission to do whatever he can to make you happy. So this often comes with gifts, massages, and anything else he can think of that results in your praise.
Overprotectiveness is part of the deal as well.
Gris likes to think he’s not a necessarily jealous lover, but he doesn’t quite like it when other men get too friendly with you. And though he’ll try to be subtle, maybe standing a little too close to you or making you wear something of his, you can always tell he’s annoyed from the way his ears flatten against his head defensively or the subtle twitch of his tail.
Enjin is the one who primarily teases him for it, telling you to keep your husband on a leash. Needless to say, there have been many near altercations that you’ve had to intervene in which usually ends with Gris pulling you into his arms and growling at anyone who gets too close. Semiu then usually slaps Enjin over the head, scolding him for riling Gris up in the first place.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t love his possessiveness. It was endearing in a strange way. You don't always quite understand hybrid habits, but you try not question things too much.
One habit you did pick up on was that closer to his ruts, the clingier Gris got.
If he were to be completely honest, Gris doesn't like inconveniencing you with his ruts. Sure, you're his wife and mate for life, and you've told him that it was okay multiple times. You knew what you were signing up for when you married a hybrid. That still doesn't make him uneasy about it nonetheless. He doesn't like how he loses control, and he'd be sick to his stomach if he hurt you in anyway.
But it's not like Gris can hide his desires for you during his rut. In fact, it's practically torture for him to be separated from you. And he can't bring himself to care about how pathetically desperate he acts, immediately pouncing on you the moment enter the room.
“Mine.”
The way he utters that singular word, a near growl in the back of his throat, has a shiver curling down your spine. It wasn’t just possessiveness. It was a proclamation.
His breath is hot against your skin, his canines grazing your clavicle ever so slightly making you whimper nervously. When he bites down suddenly, hard enough to draw blood, you yelp.
“Mine…” Gris grumbles. His tongue presses against the wound to clean it. The initial sting dissolves to a faint throb. But he kisses the mark he left so gently that you almost don’t even notice it. “Mine,” he repeats, groaning slightly as he presses himself into you. The throbbing hardness of his length has his body burning. “Mine. Mine. Tell me you’re mine.”
You curl your fingers into his hair. Gris actually whimpers when you kiss along his jaw. “I’m yours, Gris.”
And that’s all it takes for him to break.
Gris rips your shirt, tearing the fabric apart with relative ease. You don’t even get the chance to complain about him ruining your top, because he delivers the same treatment to your bottoms before snapping the wire of your bra, causing your breasts to spill out.
“Gris-ah!” You tremble when his mouth is on you, toying with your sensitive nipple between his teeth while he works your panties down your hips.
“I can smell your arousal, my mate,” Gris gasps. His finger traces across your slit, collecting your wetness before they prod through your needy entrance.
You whimper, hips bucking up for more. “Please, Gris…”
Gris retracts his fingers, making you whine at the loss of touch. “Any other time I would take my time—fuck—taste you properly. But right now, every one of my instincts is telling me to ravish you.”
He fumbles to free his straining erection from the confines of his pants, whining frustratedly when he struggles to kick them away. You try not to laugh and help him pull them off.
The fabric of his boxers is soaked through with slick. The sight of the thick outline of his cock makes your mouth water and your cunt throb, eager to have him fill you. And when he finally pulls the waistband down, his cock slaps against his lower abdomen, smearing white pre across his skin.
“Baby~” Gris whimpers as he ruts himself against you. The blushing red tip nudges against your clit making your breath hitch. You notice how unfocused his eyes looks, pupils blown wide. He swallows thickly, and you note the slight tremble of his frame as he seems to hesitate.
Or rather, hold back.
“Gris,” you say sharply. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him close enough to kiss. “It’s ok. Fuck me like you want. You know I like it rough.”
With that nudge, whatever little restraint Gris had left snaps. You wrap your legs around his waist and he’s bottoming out in one rough thrust. You gasp at the stretch of him, but Gris gives you little time to adjust to his size. Just like you asked, your husband fucks into your hard and fast, each deep stroke kissing against your cervix making your toes curl.
You can barely formulate the words to speak. Tears clinging to your eyelashes as you feel your pleasure reach closer and closer to that peak that has you cumming with a gasp. Gris growls as your gushing cunt clamps around him, before the sound melts into a strangled groan as his hips stutter erratically.
Then you feel it.
The tell tale throb at the base of his cock.
The feeling of him becoming impossibly bigger as his knot begins to swell.
“G-Gris?”
“Shh. You’re f-fine,” he grunts.
His hands grip your hips, trying to grind into you deeper. The base of his cock begins to swell, press, press, pressing against your entrance but not quite able to breach past.
“You can take it.” Gris groans, still trying to push his swollen knot into you. He ruts against you further—desperately and almost frantically—his knot catching against your aching entrance again and again. “You can take it,” Gris repeats, his voice cracking. “Just let me in.”
Your mouth falls open and a silent scream. The strangled gasp dissolves into a moan as Gris's cock bottoms out with a squelching pop. And you're left feeling so full. You can feel everything, every pulsing vein and slow grind of his swollen cockhead massaging against your sensitive walls.
“Hah I’m in,” Gris pants. “You’re okay, yeah?”
“I’m—fuck—okay.” You’re dizzy, every slight shift has him reaching somewhere new.
He shudders. “I need…” His hips immediately stutter forward. When you yelp, he cups your cheeks, kissing you to stifle your whines.
“Need to get my beautiful mate pregnant with my pups. Need to have your stomach swollen with my child—ah—then there will be no doubt to everyone else that you are mine.”
Bro Santa - Bear
Despite being considered a predatory animal, Bro is the most gentle and sweetest husband. He’s more of a teddy bear than anything else, always showering you with affection and care. In part because he’s so much bigger than you, Bro is often worried about potentially hurting you that he’s always making a conscious effort to treat you and Dear with tenderness.
Arguably, the biggest adjustment and probably the most difficult part about being married to him is hibernation season.
Every winter Bro’s metabolism slows, causing him to sleep mostly throughout the season. You would be lying though if you said it wasn’t lonely at times. Sure, during the time, he’s not completely unavailable. In fact, he’s tells you to wake him if there’s ever truly an emergency or if you need him. But because he’s so groggy and his heart rate drops making him sluggish, you feel bad disturbing him when you don’t need it.
You and Dear at least have each other and make do, adjusting to your own little routine without Bro for the month or two he hibernates. But you're definitely eagerly counting down the weeks until he fully wakes, which you're hoping is soon as spring draws near.
Entering your shared room, you quietly make your way through the nest of clothing items your husband had gathered around the bed, trying not to disturb him.
Bro slept soundly in the middle of the bed, his chest steadily rising and falling which each shallow breath. You smile softly, tracing your hand across his cheek watching how his ears twitch in response. He was surprisingly warm, his skin hot to the touch. But then, if you recalled correctly, Bro had once told you that bear hybrids' body temperatures didn't drop like other species that hibernate. So it couldn't be too out of the ordinary.
You leave him be, heading to the connected bathroom to take a quick shower. When you get out, wrapping the fluffy towel around your body, you think you're almost imagining the rustling noise you hear in the bedroom.
You pause. "Bro?" Peeking your head out the door, you're surprised to see your husband sitting up on the edge of the bed, but it quickly is replaced with excitement as he slowly stands. "Bro!"
Bro appears groggy, seemingly still half asleep, as he lumbers toward you. But you grow concerned with how unsteady he is on his feet, swaying almost drunkenly while trying to get to you. "Hey, are you okay?" you rush to his side. "If you're still tired, lay back down for--oh shit!"
He was burning up.
"My love," the deep timber of Bro's voice sends shivers down your spine.
He looks you over with a hazy—hungry—look in his eye. A deep flush coats his cheeks.
"I think...my rut's started."
One second, you’re standing before your husband, the next, you’re on the floor amid the pile of clothes with the towel torn from your body. He didn’t even bother taking the few short steps it would require to get you on to the bed.
You hardly register being flipped on your backside before your leg is thrown over Bro’s shoulders and he’s desperately trying to squeeze his engorged length past your pussy’s fluttering lips.
“Come on~” Bro grunts, almost sounding frustrated as he languidly rolls his hips, struggling to press deeper. Despite the messy arousal coating his cock, your quivering walls seemed to resist him. Or, that’s what he convinced himself was the problem. “Come on. Come on. Come on.”
Not taking into consideration how big he actually was. One look at the girth of his cock’s reddened tip alone would be a dead give away that it’d be a tight fit. But the idea that Bro couldn’t fit at all hadn’t even crossed his mind to begin with.
“Hah—please.” Bro groaned, lips gracing yours in a brief kiss. “Let me in, please. Need to—shit.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, tensing as you felt the fat head of his cock nudge through your pussy’s slick folds, trying to stretch your womb into the shape of his length. "P-please. Don't push me away."
"I-I'm not. I-It's just...B-Bro-ack! S-shit!” You shudder. Your back arches, body tensing. “Fuck, you’re so big.”
“A-and?” Sweat beads on the base of his brow, and the slightest whimper leaves his lips as he tries to urge his hips forward. “Has to fit. Need it to—fuck—fit.”
With a firm hold on your waist, Bro uses all his strength to thrust into you in one go. The deep penetration has you squealing and digging your nails into his arms. He only hisses from the slight pain, a shudder running through his body from the feeling of your walls enclosing around him.
You could barely breathe, let alone find the words to speak as the get lodged in your throat and tears prickle against your eyelashes.
His cock stretched you to the brim. Your pussy struggled to adjust to the girth, but Bro had just enough patience to not immediately begin pounding into you like he desperately wanted.
“Gonna fit…” Bro mumbles. He traces his hand across your abdomen, feeling over the indentation of his cock pressing against your womb. “N-need it to fit inside.”
“W-what? W-wait.”
That’s when you realize, when Bro bottomed out, he already came.
As he moved his hips, dragging his length against your walls, globs of his release leak out, staining the carpet, hot and sticky as it smears against your puffy clit. He glowers, before thrusting back into you leaving you gasping. You swear dots star your vision as your back bows from the floor. But Bro has a firm hold on your thigh, keeping you from turning away as he grinds deeper into you.
“Inside…need it to fit…inside…” Bro babbles. He chokes out a gasp, hips stuttering to fuck his cum further into you despite his own overstimulation that seized his body. “H-has to stay inside. H-has to stick.”
“B-Bro, why are you—“ you can barely finish your question, shuddering out a moan.
“Because…” His lips briefly brush against yours. And he cups your cheek with such a tenderness that it has your heart fluttering. "B-by the end of the season, h-have to give you a baby. Want you to carry my cubs."
Enjin - Snow Leopard
You think Enjin is such a pretty hybrid, and it’s an insane boost to his ego.
He’s already a rare breed. Big cats aren’t common enough as it is on the Ground, but that initially intrigued you to him during the early stages of your relationship. His fur is such a pale blonde that almost looks white, and he’s got a long, yet strong, tail that likes to wrap around you and pull you close to him.
Enjin won’t admit it, but he is in fact a jealous lover.
Hybrid or not, he doesn’t like when anyone gets too close to you, but he’s not gonna say it directly. He’s not the type to growl or snap at someone else. He simply pouts until you give him attention. And for someone who complains about disliking clingy people, he’s definitely the clingiest guy there is (again, something he won’t admit.)
Closer to his ruts, the worse his clingy behavior gets. Enjin’s on you so much that it’s nearly impossible for other hybrids to distinguish between your scent and his.
Like, Enjin genuinely believes you’re supposed to be attached at the hip, and gets lowkey offended when you try to go anywhere or do anything without him. Even when you insist on taking a shower, alone for once because someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, you’re a hundred percent sure that Enjin’s sitting outside the door sulking.
“I swear, that man won’t let me breathe sometimes,” you mutter under your breath as you rinse the soap off your body. “I love him to death but he can go overboard.”
Turning off the faucet, you step out the shower to quickly dry off and dress in your pajamas, which was really just one of Enjin’s oversized shirts. As of late, he was more insistent on you wearing his clothing. Not that you were complaining. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and his usual cologne lingering on the fabric was comforting in a way. But you realize, you left something behind in the bedroom.
“Hey, Enjin, I think I dropped my underwear on my way into the bathroom. Did they fall on the floor somewhere—“
You pause, the remaining words failing to form as you take in the rather erotic sight before you.
Your husband sits on the floor, just outside the bathroom door as you predicted, stripped bare. Red flushes his skin from his cheeks down to his erect cock, which he fists furiously with one hand. The other hand holds your missing panties, pressed against his face.
Enjin doesn’t notice you at first, his eyes lidded as he focuses on working his hand up and down his cock, trying to relieve the aching arousal burning through him. “A-ah—fuck, y/n…” He groans, trying to imagine it was your hand instead wrapped around him as he works his hand faster, squeezing himself tighter. When he orgasms, he does so with a low swear.
Hot spurts of cum spill from the sensitive tip, coating his abdomen and thighs. The mess of white drips down his shaft which was still hard in his hand. Enjin huffs a frustrated whine, continuing to fist his cock until it was leaking so much slick that the sloshing squelch that resounded each time he ran his hand down had your cunt throbbing with your own need.
Your husband finally looks up at you and you tense up. His eyes appear glassy as they rake you over. His ears twitch ever so slightly. “S-shit. I hate you seeing me like this,” Enjin says, his voice somewhat breathlessly husky. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “My rut’s started. Please. I need you.”
With such a pitifully helpless look on his face, you wouldn’t have known how to tell him no anyway if you hadn’t wanted him as bad as he wanted you. You were undeniably turned on by his little show, and Enjin shudders out a low moan when his cock slides through your gooey walls with ease.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Enjin slurs. His hands settle on your hips to rock you forward. He guides you back and forth, slowly at first, before settling at the pace he wanted, fucking into you harder. Faster.
He bunches his shirt up against your waist, but the sight of you wearing it stirs a possessive desire within him that he doesn’t want you to take it off. His canines graze against your neck, nipping your skin to leave purplish marks in their wake.
“Enjin~” you gasp, twisting your fingers into his hair, barely grazing his sensitive ears. The swell of his cock massages against your cunt’s walls as you continue to ride him. “T-that feels good. Keep going. That’s a good boy.”
Enjin whimpers at your praise. The compliment he’s so weak for goes straight to his throbbing balls. He shifts you slightly to piston his cock against where you’re most sensitive again and again, chasing the inevitable high he’d bring you.
“Shit. Shit. Tell me that again,” Enjin’s airy grunts and low moans fill your ears. His breath hitched as your walls flutter around his length. “I’m good for you, yeah? Tell me more.”
“Yes!” You gasp, pressing your chest against his as you grind down on him. “So good,” your words slur drunkenly on the addicting feeling of him. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you Enjin?”
The overwhelming ache caused by his rut flushed him down to his fucking toes, and your words combined with just being buried in your pussy was enough to have him forgetting all reason. And Enjin’s so far gone that his orgasm sneaks up on him. Before he can even think about pulling out, he’s cumming hot, thick ropes of white, making a mess in your cunt.
“Fuck—I’m gonna—“ You gasp. Enjin grinds up into you, forcing your hips against his while trying to fuck his cum deeper. You practically choke back a sob when you cum. He sloppily kisses your lips to drink up your squeals when his cockhead bullies against your g-spot, causing you to clench around him as pleasure coils through you.
“Babe…shit…” Enjin whimpers. He continues to rock you against his cock, pushing both of you through your overstimulation. “One more….” His hands snake up the shirt of his you wear, groping your breasts which elicit a low whine from you. “If I make you cum one more time, will you to tell me how good I am to you?”
Tamsy Caines - Fox
This fox is the bane of your existence.
Correction, you absolutely love your husband. However
He often fits the stereotype of the sly fox, and your marriage is full of teasing, often at your expense and for Tamsy's amusement.
But don't get him wrong. Tamsy absolutely adores you. You are his wife and mate for life, and he would worship the ground you walk on. He's honestly a jealous lover, and Tamsy hates it when any of the other Cleaners get too close to you. However, he's not going to say anything, all fake smiles and niceties.
You've been with him long enough though to pick up on his annoyance. It's hard not to notice the subtle way he grips your arm to keep you close or the way he'll interject in a conversation when he wants your attention. You also know him well enough to know that his irritability is a sign that his rut's approaching.
It's never directed toward you, of course. He's somewhat two-faced in that matter. Cold to everyone except you. And quite frankly, you're the only one who can ever control him, because Tamsy refuses to listen to anyone but you.
“You can be such an asshole, you know that?” You huff. Your husband follows close behind you with an all too smug look on his face. He closes the bedroom door while you throw yourself across the bed. “You know good and well that August and I are just friends. You didn’t have to be so rude when he asked for my measurements.”
“I don’t care. The only person who should be concerned with your bra size is me.”
“He didn’t even ask for that and you know it.”
You notice then how feverish Tamsy looks. He moves sluggishly as he removes his jacket. A growing bead of sweat runs across his brow. You sit up straighter, becoming concerned.
“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look well.”
“I’m just hot,” Tamsy dismisses, pulling at the collar of his shirt.
Your eyes narrow. He watches you with a sharp gaze as you stalk up to him and he shivers when you press the back of your hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up. When is your rut supposed to start?”
“My rut?” Tamsy mumbles. His foxlike ears twitch. He gives you a sly almost goofy grin and you know immediately that he’s in rut and he’s already out of it.
“Geez. I should’ve paid attention to the calendar. Come on, let’s get you into bed.” You guide Tamsy to the bed who surprisingly complies without a fight, only kicking off his pants and tossing his shirt to the side with complaints that they’re too hot.
Before you could walk away, Tamsy pulls you into his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, trapping you. “You know, I don’t like that I’m the only one undressed,” he muses, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Got me feeling self conscious.”
“Trust me, based on the way your dick’s poking my ass right now, I know you’re anything but.”
At that Tamsy laughs. He cups your cheek, his lips gracing yours gently. "Come on. Won't you help your poor husband out?"
Tamsy leans back against the headboard to watch you pull your shirt over your head and shimmy out of your bottoms. His hands settle on your hips, dragging his weepy cock against your slit. Your breath hitches, a shiver running through you.
On the other hand, Tamsy has to bite back a groan. His own arousal distorts his senses, filling his mind with a hazy lust and a strong desire to dominate you, to bend you over and fill you again and again until your cunt was dripping with his spend. His jarring thoughts make his cock throb. He exhales a sigh, dipping his head into the crook of your neck.
“What are you thinking about, Tams?” You shakily ask, running your fingers across his sensitive ears. “You look conflicted.”
“You really wanna know?” He chuckles.
Suddenly, your world distorts as you’re flipped on your stomach. You don’t even have time to gather your bearings before Tamsy is over you, chest pressed against your back. “I’m thinking about mounting you. I’m thinking about how many times I’m going to fill your pussy and all the positions I’m going to put you in before my rut ends.” His breath tickles your ear. "And I'm thinking about how I want to devour you."
You groan as he presses the tip of his cock against your fluttering entrance, fisting the sheets beneath you. “Fuck—Tamsy, please.”
Tamsy grips your hips and bottoms out in a single thrust, making you gasp. He wastes no time pounding into you, ensuring that each mean snap of his hips presses flush against your ass to fill you to the brim.
His breathy groans fill your ear as he traps you under his body weight. Your needy cunt continues to suck him in each time Tamsy ruts into you, letting out an obscene squelch whenever his hips connect. You could feel the throbbing veins on his cock dragging against your gummy walls, pressing where you’re most sensitive. You gasp at the feeling, the uncomfortable stretch of him made your toes curl and stars dot your eyes.
He was too fucking deep.
You keen and whine against him, pulling at the sheets while helplessly. “T-Tamsy—fuck, wait, y-you’re—“
“Where are you going?” Tamsy pants, breathless. He grabs you by the hips, dragging you back to him. “You said you’d help me yet you’re running away.”
You squeal when he pins you underneath him once more. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, causing your eyes to roll back. Tamsy hisses as your cunt clamps around him, his hips stuttering in their pace when he cums.
But there is no reprieve for you, Tamsy merely flipping you over into the next position he wants. You stare up at your husband, whose disheveled hair cascades down his back, his darkened gaze drinking you up. “Gods, y-you’re insatiable.”
Tamsy laughs, bending to nip at your ear. “Well that’s what you get for marrying a beast, no? You might as well get comfortable because you’re not leaving this bed for a while.”
Arkha Corvus - Black Panther
Your panther is so pretty.
Intimidating to all but you, you were drawn to the sheer beauty of Corvus’s sleek ears and tail. Initially, Corvus was hesitant around you, not sure why you’d taken interest in a predator, but your persistence grew on him. And Corvus absolutely adores you. You’re quite literally his heart and soul.
Your dynamic is somewhat interesting for others to watch. In public, Corvus exudes a subtle protection over you, standing just close enough without suffocating your space. He’s always on alert, ears at attention, while the most polite smile could be on his face that contradicts his defensiveness. At the same time, he’s attuned to your needs, listening to whatever you say intently.
Those who don’t know him think he’s being friendly. Those who do know him know that he’s guarding you, waiting for someone to make a wrong move.
While you are just happily oblivious to any murderous intent Corvus exudes toward anyone who disrespects you. Only gushing about whatever has piqued your interest or fawning over him.
And while he may not show it in public (he has an image to uphold as boss after all), in private Corvus loves to shower you with affection. You’ve learned that when he’s content, he will let out a low rumble-like purr. His tail will often wrap around your leg, making you giggle when in reality he’s trying to keep you close.
Even during his ruts, Corvus is still finding ways to put you first, prioritizing your needs above his own.
You whimper when the fat pad of Corvus’s tongue presses against your core. The rough texture was strange, but when his tongue flicked against your clit, the dizzying sensation had you gasping.
“A-Arkha…” your hands hover above his head, unsure of where to hold. You then use them to cover your mouth, trying to hide the embarrassing sounds leaving your lips when his teeth teasingly tug on your clit.
“You can grab my hair,” Corvus rumbles. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh before settling it over his shoulder. “No need to be gentle.”
And then his mouth is on you again, harsher. Sloppier.
This time, you don’t hesitate to pull at his locs, your hips bucking up in search of more relief. And Corvus relishes the slight pain as he pulls you closer against his face, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep them from closing.
“There you go…jus’ like that...” Corvus mumbles. "Keep making a mess for me."
Corvus eats you out as if you were a meal to be savored. His touch is soft and fluttering, drinking up your arousal with messy slurps and teasing flicks of his tongue. And your addicting taste only makes him groan. He tries to savor the moment, to slowly work you up until you break that Corvus doesn’t even realize how hard he’s gotten. The firm bulge of his erection strains against his slacks, desperately trying to break free, but his focus was on you.
After all, bringing you pleasure brought him the same satisfaction. And quite honestly, this was more for his enjoyment than yours.
His tongue drags up your folds with tantalizing precision, making your toes curl and your body tremble. You feel your head spin as the overwhelming pleasure overloads your senses once more.
"A-Arkha!" Your back bows off the bed, and you pull his hair so hard that a low growl rumbles in the back of his throat. Gasping, the slow build up to your orgasm hits you hard suddenly. Corvus guides you through it with his tongue until he’s satisfied with the way your legs shake.
"Are you okay, my love?" Corvus asks, resting his forehead against yours. His thumb traces gentle circles across your cheek, wiping some of your stray tears.
"M'okay... please Arkha," you beg. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close. "I need more."
Corvus chuckles. "Am I the one in rut or are you perhaps in heat?"
Before you could respond, his lips are against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The way he kisses you is full of need--desperate yet passionate--but still with the barest hint of restraint so not as to hurt you. You sigh when he pulls away, left feeling lightheaded.
Corvus moves to undress, shedding his remaining clothing. The sight of his throbbing length, thick and leaking excessive amounts of slick from tip, has you nearly shuddering from both excitement and nervousness.
“Hold on to me, okay?” Corvus instructs. “I got you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, tensing as you felt the fat head of his cock nudge through your pussy’s slick folds, trying to stretch your womb into the shape of his length.
A shiver coursed through him, his ears twitching to attention. Corvus knew then and there he was fucked. Just feeling you around him had him reeling. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to cum simply from bottoming out. And rut or not, he didn’t want to lose control. Not when it came to you.
“You gotta relax, sweetheart,” Corvus grunted. “You’re so tense.”
“I’m trying,” you whimper. “I-it’s just—y-you’re just—oh—“ He nudges forward, stealing your breath. “W-wait!”
The moment Corvus sheathes his cock all the way, hitting where you’re most sensitive, your toes curl and you’re gushing around him while crying out his name. It catches your husband off guard, not expecting you to cum so suddenly, let alone by him just pushing his cock in. But, fuck, if he didn’t truly enjoy the sight. And as he holds you steady as your orgasm trembles your body, the last threshold of Corvus’s composure breaks.
“M’sorry,” you babble embarrassed. “C-couldn’t help it. I-it just-ack!” Corvus suddenly folds your legs over his shoulder, pushing your knees toward your chest.
“Forgive me, my love,” Corvus says shakily. His breathing labored as he tried to steady himself, trying to resist the urge-and failing—from pressure hips deeper. Bending your legs further. “T-tried to control myself because I didn’t want to hurt you, but this time, I don’t think I can hold back.”
Zodyl Typhon - Bull
Zodyl is a sweet lover though a bit stand-off to others.
He’s big and intimidating, large horns curling from the base of his crown and a glower that makes most people steer clear. And since he’s not big on public displays of affection, many wonder what you see in him. Zodyl often just lingers, if not by your side, he isn’t too far behind.
Due to his size, his presence alone is suffocating, but you know him well enough to know that’s just how he is. It’s his own little way of protecting you.
But Zodyl is absolutely infatuated with you, and his endearing, albeit small, smile is only ever reserved for you.
Your husband is also, unfortunately the world’s most stubborn man on the planet.
He’s as hardheaded as it gets, and sometimes, as his poor wife, you have to deal with the brunt his antics, because the only one that could ever convince him to listen to reason is honestly you. Especially when it comes to his ruts, you have to make him listen to his body. He’ll fight it as long as possible, even going as far to hide it from you.
You could always tell, because it always starts with him avoiding you.
Zodyl will wake before you do and only come to bed long after you’ve fallen asleep, always leaving ample space in between you. But you pick up on the way he’s clearly uncomfortable in his skin, unable to relax and sweating profusely. He dodges your affection, turning his head when you try to kiss him.
At first, it used to bother you, the blatant rejection. But now, you turn it to a game and see how much you can push his buttons before he inevitably breaks.
You thought it would get to him if you had put on a new pair of pajamas. Red. Silky. And borderline lingerie from how short the bottoms were and how your nipples poked through the near sheer the tank top. Let’s say, you got more than the reaction you were hoping for when Zodyl pounces on you to tear the clothes off your body.
However, at the last second, he stops, almost as if realizing what he did, and tries to pull away. This time, you don’t let him.
“You always try to hide your ruts from me,” you mumble shyly. “It makes me feel like you don’t want me or trust me. Is it cause I’m human?”
At that, Zodyl’s expression softens slightly. “That’s not the case at all.”
“Then why—“
“Cause I won’t be able to stop myself,” Zodyl say bluntly. “I wont stop until you’re a whimpering mess coming undone on my cock. Until I’ve plugged your tight little hole with my knot and you’re overflowing with my cum. And even then, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be satisfied because I’m so addicted to you that I could breed you for hours and never get enough.”
You gape at your husband, unsure of how to respond. His expression remains serious but the slightest twitch of his ear reveals some emotion. Zodyl presses his nose against the side of your neck, grinning against your skin.
“You’re aroused.”
A flush burns across your face, shooting down to between your legs as your husband chuckles. Heat coils through you. And Zodyl can smell your growing need.
“Perhaps I was wrong. Is that what you want, wife?”
“Please,” you gasp.
And your plea is all it takes to finally break him.
He roughly puts you into the position he wanted, no longer hesitant about manhandling you. You stare up at him flushed, the wind knocked out your lungs, when he flipped you on to your backside.
“Stop squirming,” Zodyl grumbled. His cock swells within the confines of his pants, throbbing at the base. “Wearing those damn pajamas…just trying to rile me up.”
“Well, I got what I wanted, no?”
Zodyl shakes his head, smiling. “You’re such a brat.” You groan when he grinds forward, hips bucking up into you. You feel the thick bulge of him straining against the fabric, pressing hot and heavy against your pussy. “But it’s fine, I’m going to fuck you like you want.”
The moment your slick folds slide against him, Zodyl out a low swear, grips your thighs, and begins rutting into you. The thick girth of his shaft causes the most delicious stretch that has you gasping.
The blunt head of his veiny length reaches the deepest parts of your womb without Zodyl having to move much. His heavy, aching balls nudge against your clit as he thrusts against your ass, trying to fill you completely and imprint your cunt with the shape of his cock.
“A-ah—s-shit—Zodyl! Your whimpers only rile him up further. You hadn’t expected him to be so rough, kissing your cervix with each mean snap of his hips. And your fluttering walls only aided his frenzied trusts, so slick and wet that he could glide through with ease.
“Need…to…fuck…fill you,” Zodyl grunts. “Gonna breed…this pussy…have to—ah—want to get you—“ he whimpers as his cock and balls throb, aching for relief. And your name is such a sinful moan on his tongue that you think you could cum again from the sound alone.
He sounded so needy. So desperate. Despite being a predator, he was putty in your hands or rather, putty from the feeling of your pussy. Like a damn animal in rut.
“Oh-fuck!” Zodyl hissed. He shudders and his body lurches. And he’s spilling himself into your womb with a low curse. He cums hard, ropes of white painting your insides. But the burning desire of his rut doesn’t quell the slightest, his needs he’s ignored for so long not yet met. “Fuck. Fuck.“
Zodyl continues to move his hips, fucking you through his apparent overstimulation. “P-please. I want…”
“What do you want Zodyl?” You gasp.
His nuzzles against your neck, ears twitching. “M-my love…I want…”
His hips are almost frantic as they rut against yours, dragging his weepy cock through your plush walls. Trying to press deeper and deeper. But it wasn’t enough. Zodyl needed you closer, to feel you more.
So he folds your legs over his shoulders, pressing his weight against you. He grips your chin, his mouth suddenly hot and sloppily capturing yours to swallow your moans. His nips your bottom lip, the slight pain making you whimper.
“I want to feel you coming undone on my cock again,” Zodyl says, breathlessly. Your husband caresses your cheeks gently before bracketing his arms beside your head, his gaze darkening. “Enjoyed your little break? Cause you’re not getting another one.”
