𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 (𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘴𝘮 & 𝘔𝘎)

[antipriest]

The kiss– if it could even be called that– had started as something pitiful, something meant to be endured, not returned. Just another gesture to placate the wolf circling him, to buy himself another breath, another second. A flicker of softness meant to appease. That was all.

But the Alpha took it like it was something else entirely.

The beast surged forward like he’d been starving for it, like the taste of Valéry’s trembling lips was a feast he’d been long denied. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet– far from it. It was devouring. And worse– worse– was that the Omega’s body responded like it had been waiting, longing for that exact cruelty. His spine arched, not from fear, but from heat. The man’s tongue slid between his parted lips like it belonged there, without permission and didn’t ask for it. His teeth grazed along Val’s lip like he wanted to mark him there, too, and Valéry gasped into the mouth that swallowed every sound like it belonged to him.

The rough finger circling his entrance, spreading sweet slick, finally plunged in, sank deep until there was nothing left, and curled.

The younger man’s fingers, clutching at the Alpha’s shoulders, tightened as that thick digit shifted within him, pressing into the plush of his inner walls. Between that and his weeping cock trapped against the soft knit of the man’s turtleneck and the hard press of his abs, Valéry could feel himself hurtling right towards the edge again.

He felt the snarl more than he heard it– felt it vibrate through the devil’s chest, through his sharp teeth, through the hot press of their mouths locked together like a warning and a promise. It wasn’t human. Far from it. It was something older, something primal, dragging claws down the length of his spine. And god help him– he shivered. It should have terrified him. Maybe a part of him was afraid. But his fear had begun to twist into something else entirely, something darker. Hungrier. That sound, that snarl, it wasn’t just dominance– it was possession, and Valéry’s body answered it. His lips parted with a broken gasp as the cold of the bathroom door disappeared from his searing skin for a brief moment before he was all but slammed right back against it, turned into a sharp cry from the impact that seemed to have sobered him up just slightly. Val felt like he couldn’t breathe, caught somewhere between defiance and surrender.

The beast’s teeth were right there, snagging, breaking flesh, threatening, branding– and he let him. To his dismay, welcomed it. Pressed closer as though deep down, he wanted to be devoured.

Valéry’s hand curled around the back of the man’s neck, fingers pressing into muscle with a desperation that betrayed him. One finger turned into two, and he moaned into that wicked mouth, shame catching on each ragged breath as their kiss broke.

Please don’t stop.​

Val’s world narrowed to the hot ache between his legs and the way the Alpha’s fingers filled him– merciless, unrelenting, but skilled in a way that seemed designed to drag out every last drop of his dignity and melt it into want. He didn’t know when need had overtaken terror, only that the line between the two was thin as silk– easily torn, barely noticed in the blur of the larger man’s touch. He was coming apart, piece by piece, and every fragment of him was on display: the part that remembered shame, the part that burned for release, and the secret, shameful core that wanted to be seen– wanted to be ruined, completely, by hands that wouldn’t allow him to hide.

His body trembled and begged, traitor that it was. Slick pooled and soaked into the sleeve of the man’s coat, spreading warmth and wet that should have mortified him. Valéry didn’t care, not when each drag of the devil’s fingers caused that backstabbing heat to coil tighter and tighter behind his navel. The part of him that was still present wanted to curse him, spit at him, claw his way free, but instead he found himself clinging– one hand clutching the back of the Alpha’s neck, the other gripping the edge of the cubicle for purchase as if he might be swept away.

“Listen, bunny. You love that, don’t you? You love having your tight, fucking boypussy stuffed with fingers?”

A sound escaped him– half moan, half sob– raw enough that it scared him. And it was at that moment that the tension in his body finally snapped.

“F-fuck– please, I-I’m gonna– A-aahh…!”

Valéry’s head lolled back against the cool laminate, a shrill squeal ripping free from his throat as he came– painting his own bare belly and the black of the man’s turtleneck with pearly white ropes. Every curl and drag of the devil’s fingers inside of sent a jolt through his nerves like a live wire. He was shaking, drooling, skin slick, thighs trembling where they stayed open, helpless against the rhythm. Then, those fingers left him, and the Omega thought he was done– it was over.

Right?

Wrong. Two became three, and Val felt himself scrambling to run away from every motion, twisting and squirming against the bathroom door. “W-wait– waitwaitwait– I-I j-just– ahn– I-I just came…!” His legs tensed. His whole body arched– shameless, trembling, straining to escape the fingers stretching his hole open and pliant.

“I can’t–” he cried, high and fractured. “I-I can’t handle– nnh, handle it– y-you’re gonna kill me…!”

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Please. How easy that word had transformed within Valéry's plush mouth. It had begun as a beg for forgiveness, as if Zhenya would ever be gentle. Now it spilled free of Valéry, between pants and moans and pathetic little whimpers, a cry for relief and release. Because even if he hated it, even if he'd run, Valéry fucking wanted it, and there was no denying it now.

"Mm," Zhenya purred, dragging the cold tip of his nose across Valéry's flushed cheek. "Say it again for me. Say please. Tell me how you're so fucking horny for it, bunny."

Something warm and wet clipped the underside of Zhenya's jaw, a millisecond before he felt the tension roll through the Omega. Valéry came, and Zhenya leant back to watch it; cold eyes wide and hungry, drinking it all in as Valéry's first rope of cum dripped from his chin. Valéry came with a squeal, a shudder, a clawing of slender fingers into the back of Zhenya's neck. The tight of his hole clenched down on those curling, relentless fingers. There was a tremble in Valéry's thighs that came in little shock waves.

And his eyes. Oh, fuck, his big, pretty eyes. They shimmed with something more than just tears now. Valéry's pupils were blown wide and he looked half-delirious. Zhenya sank his teeth into his lower lip and groaned. The three thick fingers he stuffed back inside Valéry's twitching taint were just as relentless.

"You can't—You can't. You can't what, bunny?" Zhenya mocked him; all teeth in his feral grin. "So what if I kill you? Shouldn't a filthy whore like you be happy?"

A fourth digit pressed in beside the rest, stretching Valéry wider. The hot of his tongue pressed to Valéry's chin. Wicked as he was, Zhenya licked up over lips, over wet philtrum and cheeks, and over temple. He snagged the shell of an ear and bit hard, before purring; "Or do you want to die on my cock. Is that it?"

 

[antipriest]

He wanted to crawl out of his own skin. He wanted to escape, to vanish through the nearest crack in the world and never be seen again, but he couldn’t– he couldn’t even look away. The Alpha’s grip on him was iron, his voice a low, venom-sweet drawl that burrowed straight into the soft, animal places deep within his biology.

Valéry’s own voice sounded foreign in his ears, high and cracking, all the tight-wound shame of a prayer given up in the dark. “Please– fuck– I-I can’t–” His words dissolved into a gasp, a ragged sob, the air punched out of him by the next curl and twist of those relentless fingers invading his soft flesh. He writhed against the slick heat, one hand fisting helplessly in the man’s coat as if the world might tip sideways and he’d fall away if he let go.

Every part of him trembled: his thighs shaking with the effort to stay open, pinned, his arms straining to cling to whatever he could reach, his chest rising and falling in frantic, shallow bursts while the beast continued to ravage him with just three fingers. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes, shame and want and terror blurring together until he barely knew who he was. Only that he was burning, melting, about to come undone further.

He wanted to hate the Alpha (he already did– but he wasn’t so sure in this moment). He wanted to hate himself more for his body needing this, for arching back into the brutal stretch, for biting down on his tongue to keep from begging louder. He couldn’t stop– he couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t want to.

Valéry could barely breathe. Everything was too much. The squelch of his own slick against skin, the harsh pant of his own breath, the cruel stretch of the monster’s fingers, the crude taunts that sent his nerves sparking. The Omega tried to stammer out another plea, but the words got lost somewhere between a fourth finger being added and the crush of his throat, swallowed by a high, trembling whine.

Then, the devil’s mouth was on him– hot, claiming, unforgiving. Valéry felt the rough scrape of freshly-shaved stubble as the man licked a shameless stripe up the point of his chin, over bitten lips slick with spit, over the trembling curve of his cheekbone, all the way to his sweaty temple. The sensation was almost animal, obscene in its possession. The young man flinched, but couldn’t pull away, couldn’t do anything but shudder as the other’s tongue left a burning trail of humiliation up the side of his face.

It should have disgusted him. It should have made him want to crawl away and never be touched again. If he hadn’t been so drunk on the Alpha’s heady scent and the pleasure coiling through his body, it might have. Instead, it wrung a raw, broken gasp from his throat, his body arching helplessly into the man’s touch as if some feral, buried part of him needed to be marked, needed to be claimed.

“Stop–” he tried, but the plea was thin and brittle, undermined by the way his hips rolled, desperate for more friction, more fullness, more everything. He was burning up, out of his mind, trembling everywhere the devil touched him. The sharp sting of teeth against cartilage sent a jolt through him, the pain and pleasure blurring together into one endless, shuddering want. He sobbed, a sound ripped from deep in his chest– ugly, desperate, real.

“Or do you want to die on my cock. Is that it?”

His body gripped the Alpha’s thick fingers, greedy and frantic, slick pooling and dripping into a small puddle that had now formed on the floor of the bus. Valéry’s head lolled back again at just the thought of having something other than fingers inside of him, mouth open in a broken cry. He couldn’t find his words. The four fingers curling and pistoning in his guts, literally fucking him stupid, would not let him.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

"Stop?"

Zhenya's grin was wolfish. All pearl teeth and sharp canines. A monster, wicked, holding a broken, whimpering lamb in his maw. A doe under a hunter's knife. A bunny trapped in an ever-tightening snare. That foul, feral thing within Zhenya was raging and wanton.

Four thick, calloused fingers buried deep to the knuckle within slick-drooling hole. Four fat digits curling against plush wall, dragging over soft, spongey flesh to echo with the slop and squelch of it. Four thick fingers…and then nothing.

Zhenya wrenched his hand away, left Valéry's taint gaping. His palm was close, and he felt the stream of slick that gushed from Valéry, having been held in by the plug of long digits. It came like a waterfall and it slipped through Zhenya's fingers. He spread them, felt the slick run free as it coated his hand, and then gave a sharp tap to that gaping, needy hole. One slap, then another. Zhenya felt how that pucker tightened, but knew how easy it would be to pry it back open.

"Like that?" Zhenya purred. He drew his mouth over Valéry's ear, and took the cartilage between his teeth. Bit it hard until flesh nearly split before moving to drag teeth down over rhe slope of Valéry's neck. "You want me to leave you gaping and empty, is that it? You want me to edge you? Make you beg for it? Bunny, you're already doing such a good job of that. Didn't you just say 'please, fuck'?" He lifted his head, met Valéry's eyes and grinned. Zhenya, cruel in his tease, began to mock him. "'Please fuck me, Daddy.' 'Please fuck my tight little boy cunt, Sir.' 'Please fuck my slutty fuck-hole, Zhenya.'"

Zhenya's hand shifted, fingers coated in slick working down his fly.

"Yes, bunny…" The snap of his trouser's button coming undone, the shuffle of fabric coming down beneath withdrawn cock. The heat of his shaft, swollen and heavy, pressed in against the cleft of Valéry's ass. "…We're getting to that."

And as Zhenya took the thick root of his cock within a fist, smearing his fat tip over soft flesh, he sank his teeth into the pulp of his lower lip and he thrust hard and deep, plunging into Valéry's wet heat.

 

[antipriest]

Valéry’s lungs seized around the air he tried to take in, the sudden withdrawal of those long, thick fingers akin to having the ground torn out from under him. His body spasmed with the loss, still twitching around nothing, that slick heat spilling free in viscous, humiliating droplets down his fair skin. The first sharp slap to his hole made his hips jolt, the next drawing a loud, startled cry from his mouth. But the treacherous arch of his spine betrayed him, tilting back into the aftershock of the Alpha’s touch as if pleading it to return.

Despite it all– basically selling himself in the name of survival and meaningless flings to forget the pain of being forced to live in a world that was against him at every turn– no one had ever treated Val like this. Rough, cruel, unforgiving. Like he was just seconds away from being torn limb from limb by a wolf in human skin, forced to watch himself being devoured alive.

His body certainly had never reacted to anybody like this.

The harsh bite to his ear, pearly whites grinding down into cartilage, dragged a breathless “ahn–!” from him. Even though the sound of the monster’s voice slithered over his skin, every mocking echo of his own plea making his chest knot tighter with shame, the words seemingly fell on deaf ears. He hadn’t even known the man’s name until that moment– hadn’t noticed the initials carved into the lighter that had been left behind, hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t dared. Names meant permanence, something to hold on to, and Valéry had learned long ago that holding on only made the tearing away worse.

But when the sound ripped out of the beast’s chest– a low, feral snarl pressed into the space between them like ownership itself– the syllables followed, raw and guttural: Zhenya.

The name shattered through the Omega’s head like glass. It was ugly, beautiful, foreign, and too intimate all at once. His own lips broke on a whimper, a choked, involuntary “ah–” that dissolved into a shivering moan as he clung harder to him. His thoughts scrambled, panicked: No, no, you shouldn’t know this, don’t give it shape, don’t let him be real. But the taste of him, the sound of him, the weight of that name branded itself deep anyway, searing into his marrow.

Valéry’s heart hammered so loud it deafened him. Each syllable of the man’s name pulsed in his skull like a drumbeat. Zhenya. Zhenya. Zhenya. It scared him more than the teeth, more than the fingers that had been invading him moments ago, because it meant there was no more pretending this was nothing more than nameless violence, that this wasn’t just a by-chance stroke of ill fate. It was a man, with a name, with heat and hunger that had carved itself into the young man’s body, sunk his claws and teeth in and would not let go.

He hadn’t even heard the sound of Zhenya’s fly being undone, the snap of a button, nor the rustle of fabric. It was only when the swollen thick of the Alpha’s shaft pressed between his cheeks when he’d realized it was out.

“Nn– w-wait–” The protest rasped from his throat as the fat head pressed against his slick hole, but it shattered, breaking apart into a strangled cross between a cry and a scream that caught high in his chest when Zhenya’s cock bullied its way inside of him. The back of his head collided with the hard laminate with a loud thunk. His hand slapped flat against the wall, the other groping blindly for purchase– fabric, flesh, anything to hold onto as if that could anchor him against the flood. The stretch tore a throaty “God–!” from deep within his chest, hips twitching like they wanted to retreat, yet traitorously pushing down into the thick, unyielding heat that filled him inch by inch instead. Every nerve lit and burned until the last straggling bits of his resistance melted out of him, leaving his muscles trembling, pliant. It felt carved into him, this surrender– like his body had been marked for it long before today.

Just when he thought he’d taken all of it, there was more. He hated it. Hated how easily his body betrayed him, how the sting blurred into heat, how his plush inner walls opened around that fat cock without permission. But with Zhenya’s weight pressing him down, the vast stretch now buried to the hilt, and his name still reverberating like a curse through Valéry’s skull– he couldn’t tell anymore if the tremor in his bones had been defiance…or the desperate, shame-soaked need to be wrecked completely.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Valéry cried for God, and it drew a wolfish grin from Zhenya. His fingers curled tighter upon soft, supple flesh. His hips rolled higher as his fat cock sank another inch inside Valéry's tight hole. Zhenya leant forward, caging the Omega in against the stall's door, as he ran his tongue along the side of Valéry's face.

"Yes, bunny, I'm here." Zhenya crooned, but it did not match the ruthlessness in which he withdraw and slammed back inside. It didn't match how relentless as rough he was as he pulled completely from Valéry's hole, let it gape for a second, before cramming his cock back inside without the guide of his hand. He plunged deep, feeding Valéry's slutty hole more inches with each hard drive of his hips. Still, the Omega hadn't taken him all. Not many ever did.

"Shhh, I know," he purred. His lips brushed over Valéry's brow bone, how the arched were pinched together in a little scowl. Zhenya adjust his arms beneath the hook of the Omega's legs to make the drop of his body deeper. Another fat two inches sank inside, the middle of his shaft thicker and forcing a stretch. Into Valéry's ear, Zhenya crooned; "You've been without me for so long, but I'm here now."

He hit the curve of Valéry's guts then; where it curved to the right, before ascending. It refused him, and Zhenya grit his teeth and tried to press beyond it. The second ring always proved a challenge to those not used to things as big as this. Valéry might have been a slut, but he must not have been a size queen. Because, otherwise, this second ring would have opened and straightened for Zhenya to pass through; reaching places so impossibly deep.

"Open up for me, bunny. Let me in." He took the shell of Valéry's ear between his teeth and bit until thin skin split and it bled. Zhenya lapped the crimson up with his tongue, swallowed it and then suckled the wound for more. Valéry tasted delicious, and Zhenya wondered whether the meat of him would be just as sweet.

Again, he withdraw, until the pink rim of Valéry's hole drew outwards with its tight grip. Zhenya slammed back inside, ground his hips in a roll, but was denied yet again. He snarled. "How am I meant to fill you with god-seed when your cunt is choking my cock like that? Let me in."

He became persistent. Against that ring deep within the Omega, where he knew the places within him diverged, Zhenya's monstrous cock sat. He was already beginning to bulge Valéry's belly, but he wanted to be inside completely. He wanted someone to finally take all of him. He wanted to see Valéry's belly become full of him, and to watch his own cock piston behind taut flesh. Zhenya groaned, licked a stripe up the side of Valéry's neck and then captured his mouth in a kiss.

It was then that he felt that wall crumble. That last little defence. Zhenya's cock broke through the tight second ring, and he suddenly sank all the way inside. He fought a shiver as he felt Valéry's tight heat utterly engulf him.

"Yes, bunny, like that. Good boy." Zhenya moaned, held himself still and relished in the feeling of being balls deep. He'd known there was something special about Valéry. He knew the rumours of him being the best fucking slut this side of town were true. Zhenya sank his teeth into Valéry's lower lip, pulled it roughly that it almost split, and let it snap back into place as he ground himself deep.

"See? You want it don't you? Feel how your hole's so sloppy for me." Zhenya withdrew then, to just the tip. Felt Valéry's hole gush slick before he plunged back inside. The Omega's ass squelched, and that slick drooled onto Zhenya's leather shoes. "You were made to worship me, bunny. You're going to be my perfect little cumdump."

He held onto him tighter, buried his nose into the crook of Vaéry's neck and fought the urge to mark him. How easy it would be to sink his teeth into that slender shoulder and to tear flesh from bone. How delicious it would be to eat a chunk of his bunny, roasted or raw. Zhenya groaned and bit into the side of his cheek, instead, as he began to fuck Valéry with an increasing rhythm.

"I'll be your God." Zhenya purred. The bus began to echo with the rapid squelch that came with every hard, upward drive of his cock. "Now and forever."

He pulled Valéry away from the door so that he'd have nothing to grab onto but Zhenya. Shifted his arms up over Valéry's back to grapple with both shoulders from behind so he could use the Omega's own body weight to thrust him down onto his cock. He could feel his balls tightening. He could feel his cock beginning to swell. He wouldn't knot Valéry, Zhenya didn't knot anyone, but he was beginning to pant as he fucked Valéry's tight Omega pussy like he was rabid.

"Just say how much you want me."