The Big Bad Wolf?!
Summary: Satoru is a wolf hybrid and started working for your department where only prey animal hybrids work. What could possibly go wrong? Itâs not like he has a crush on you, his boss who just so happens to be a sheep.
Warnings: 18+, mdni, fem! reader, afab reader, hybrids, reader is a sheep-hybrid, Satoru is a wolf-hybrid, reader goes into heat, sub-ish! Satoru, bondage (Satoru gets his hands tied up), breeding kink, pet names (baby, sweetheart), unprotected, p in v
a/n: I read "I'm a Wolf, but by Boss is a Sheep" and got inspired to put my own twist on it!
"I'm sorry Satoru-kun, but we need you to work overtime today. But I promise itâs the last time this month!â you say empathetically, understanding that he probably wants to go home on time.
The deadline for the project your department has been working on is moving closer, much faster than anticipated. Most of the work has been already finished, but the draft Satoru sent in needs to be refined before tomorrow's meeting.
"Oh! Itâs okay. I will finish my work as fast as you can and then I can drop you off at the station." Satoru replies without showing a hint of sadness or any tiredness. In fact he looks excited to spend more time at the office. Especially since itâs just the two of you left on the floor, everyone else already left.
"I'm still very sorry, Satoru-kun. I know you were excited to head home early today. You did say that one of the games you play is releasing a new DLC today. I will buy you dinner tomorrow to make it up to you, is that okay?â you reach to ruffle his hair affectionately in an attempt to convey that you truly feel apologetic.
Satoru's ears perk up. The wolf-like ears on the top of his head stand up and his tail starts to swoosh back and forth like that of an excited puppy. Dinner? Alone with you? Thatâs the closest to a date he has ever had! "Of course!â he states a little too enthusiastically. "I mean- I mean, yes, that would be lovely!"
His eagerness is delightful and elicits a giggle out of you. "Okay. I will make a reservation for us. Now, how about we both finish our work and head home, hm?" you lightly scratch behind his ears affectionately.
Since Satoru is the only predator-animal-hybrid in your department. At first it seemed to be a hurdle, since the other members of the department wanted to keep their distance. It is a little nerve-wrecking to have a predator so close at all times when one isnât used to it. But all the worry turned out to be for nothing. Satoru is a delight to work with. He is always eager to help, very gentle with everyone and, most of all, understanding of the difficulties in predator and prey interactions. And a well-built man who can carry all the heavy things is always a plus.
"Okay Boss!" Satoru's tail keeps wagging in excitement and hearts form in his eyes as he watches you leave to your office. He lets out little whimpers at the loss of your touch but makes sure that you donât hear how pathetic he is being.
The only sound that Satoru can hear is the air conditioning cooling the office air, providing a comfortable work environment. He honestly just wants to go home and play games, but for you, he would willingly spend a few more hours here. And the thought of walking you to the station and talking to you just sweetens the deal even more. His games could wait.
The typing on his keyboard speeds up as he understands what improvements need to be made. The presentation at tomorrow's meeting will be easy to handle for you, if he finishes up quickly.
The clock ticks on as the sky turns darker and the streetlights outside of the office window turn on. Satoru sends the final draft to you and stands up to stretch his aching back from all the hours of sitting. He packs up his bag and carries his cacao brown suit jacket on his arm as he gracefully maneuvers through the halls.
As he stands in front of the door to your office, he takes a deep breath to gather his composure and courage. Satoru looks confident and dashingly handsome as he stands in the hall, but internally he is freaking out. His crush on his superior messes with his head to the point where he stumbled over his words and, in the worst-case scenario, canât even form a coherent sentence.
The knock on your door goes unanswered, which makes Satoru nervous. You always answer with a small come in or come to open the door yourself, but right now there is no sign of you. He raises his hand to knock on your door again, but he hears a loud thud. Satoru freezes. Are his ears messing with him?
His worry gets the best of him and he reaches for the doorknob. "I'm coming in!â he lets you know and swings the door open. The first thing he notices is that he smells something strong. Itâs your scent, but somehow stronger and more alluring. It makes his ears ring and nose twitch. The second is your face covered in a light sweat. Your hands are harshly gripping the mahogany desk as you breathe unevenly.
All the symptoms only have one obvious cause. You are in heat! This is bad. "F-fuck! W-what should I do?" Satoru asks out loud. He doesnât know how to help a sheep who has gone into heat.
"Satoru-kun~" you whine out to him as you stand on your wobbly legs with most of your weight being supported by the desk. You look good enough to eat! No, bad Satoru. He needs to do something. "Come here~" you call him over to you.
Satoru is frozen in place. What should he do? If he gets any closer, he will have a hard time helping you. His brain is already malfunctioning. Your pencil skirt is hugging your hips so deliciously and youâre also wearing a turtleneck! It has been on his mind all day.
You walk towards him, but stumble because of the feverish symptoms from your heat. Satoru drops his bag along with his suit jacket and hurries to catch you in his arms. Your sweet scent envelops him completely. There is no way he is making it out of here without developing an even more crazed obsession with you.
Right now, Satoru feels like the prey. You yank him down by his tie and push your body weight onto him for support. "Satoru-kun, can I kiss you?" you manage to ask while looking up at him with a barely functioning mind. Your lips ghost over his.
"Are⌠are you sure? This is your heat talking. We need to call someone!â Satoru panics at the thought of doing something he might regret and ruin your relationship with him forever! He canât let that happen.
You, on the other hand, shut the door behind Satoru and push him up against it. Satoru closes his eyes in surprise and feels terrified that if he sees you up close like this, he will lose his mind.
"Toru-kun~ I like you. This isnât only the heat. I like you a lot, I promise." you say earnestly.
The breathlessness in your voice eggs Satoru on as he gains a little more courage. "Really?" he asks as he peeks down at you with barely opened eyes. His tail starts to swish back and forth, giving away his true feelings.
"HmmâŚ" you hum to support your previous statement. "I really like you.â The confession is muted since you decided to bury your face in Satoru's chest in hopes of smelling his scent better. Not only does his woody scent ground you a little, you can also hear his heartbeat pick up. Itâs pounding against his ribcage. Maybe heâs nervous, or maybe heâs about to have a heart attack. Satoru couldnât tell either.
"Y-you like me?" heâs stunned. He leans closer to you and gently cups your face in one of his hands. "Say it again, please! I need to hear you say it again," he mutters as his body heats up. His face and ears turn red and he uses the back of his left hand to cover the lower part of his face.
He looks at you with such an intense gaze. Your hand lets go of the fabric of his shirt and wanders lower and lower until your fingertips graze his bulge. The sharp inhale makes your ears perk up. "Let me show you how much I like you, Satoru-kun." you coo at him.
His false, somewhat calm demeanor breaks into pieces as he lets out a loud whine. Satoru leans in to capture your soft lips against his own. The spit, tongue and heavy breathing get to his head. He feels dizzy. He feels overwhelmed.
He breaks away from the kiss, allowing the spit to connect your lips to his for a few seconds longer. The dashing smile that follows makes your pussy quiver. Satoru wipes the spit away with the back of his hand and goes to wipe the spit away from your lips using his thumb. But what he didnât expect was for you to take his thumb into his mouth and suck on it. "Oh~ f-fuck-" he moans out loudly, not expecting your lips to have this kind of effect on him.
His reaction makes you smirk. Heâs so cute! You take this opportunity to gently stroke his cock through his slacks. Up and down. Up and down and squeeze lightly.
"Fuck- fuck! Baby! Your hand f-feels soo~ good.â Satoru throws his head back. His hair falls over his eyes. His prim and proper look exchanged for a disheveled mess.
He pulls at his tie with one hand. Meanwhile you release his thumb from your mouth with a loud 'pop'. "Can you help me, Toru?" you ask with faux innocence in your expression, trying to hide the carnivorous look in your eyes. If only he knew you wanted to swallow him whole.
All Satoru can do is nod dumbly and let you strip him off of his clothes. The belt falls to the floor along with his slacks, boxers and shirt. The tie is repurposed by you, into a make-soft bondage. His hands are tied snuggly behind him as you push him to take a seat on the sofa in your office.
Satoruâs eyes a shining brightly under the fluorescent light. He looks like a puppy more than a wolf, with his ears pressed to his head. On the other hand, he never expected you to be the predator everyone should have been worried about in your department. A real wolf in sheepâs clothing.
"I wanna fuck you soo bad, Toru." you run a nail down his chest, teasing him. "I want to ride you and you can suck on my nĂpples, okay?" You throw your unbuttoned blouse to the floor, followed by your bra. Satoruâs eyes stay glued to your tits as they jiggle while you try to shimmy your way out of your pencil skirt. His mouth opens involuntarily, letting a small moan escape and hoping you will let him latch on to one. Tempting you to do so.
His reaction coaxes a giggle out of you. Heâs so eager. In a way, seducing you without even trying to. "I-I want- no need your tits in my mouth. Please, please, please- I need it so bad!" he sounds delirious. So desperate to bring you any kind of pleasure.
âLike this?â you ask teasingly as you straddle him and shove his head into your chest.
Satoru hums in appreciation and lets his eyes roll to the back of his head.
"Oh~" you sigh out in pleasure as you start to move your hips against his. Your clit bumping into his bulge repeatedly. "Yeah⌠such a good boy~" you coo out. âbut I need more. I wish you could feel how wet I am." your grinding comes to a halt. "Actually, you can! Silly me. Here, feel.â you slowly slip his tip in, not giving him a second to adjust to your warmth as you slide him in completely.
"F-fuck! Baby, you shouldnât have, Iâm gonna- cum!" Satoru cums immediately. His face is bright red from embarrassment. How could this happen! Heâs going to die from how embarrassing this is. Now you are going to think he can only pump once and canât bring you any kind of pleasu- Huh?! Are you giggling? "Baby, Iâm so sorry, so sorry! Nnngh- fuuuck. Wait- d-donât move so fast, I just came!" he rambled desperately, trying to gain some kind of control over the situation. Are you really going to overstimulate him?
"S'goood. I'm not going to last long! You need to go deeper. I want your babies! You have t- to fill me up good." You stammer out in a horny haze. Itâs clear to Satoru that your heat has hit you full force.
You place your feet next to his thighs to get a better angle. This position also makes it easier for you to ride Satoru's cock like a dildo. The mixture of Satoru's cum and your slick is pooling on the sofa, but there is no sign that you are stopping anytime soon.
Both of your moans fill the room along with the wet squelching 'plap' 'plap' 'plap'.
Satoru leans his head back and allows the drool to leak from the corner of his mouth. âUgh- I'm⌠baby! Sweetheart, no- not again! Please cum with me, I donât want to do it alone. Cum, cum, cum!" he lets out a whimper followed by a loud groan that sends shockwaves through your body.
You let your own orgasm wash over you as you continue to grind against him and milk his cock of every drop. You take the opportunity to lick the drool off from the corner of his mouth that had already wandered down to his sharp jaw.
"F-fuck baby.â he groans seductively. "You wanna go to my place so I can fuck you good? Donât wanna let my girl do all the work, especially since she wants my babies soo bad." he teases you for your earlier comment.
"Only of you wear your glasses." you tease back with a smile smirk on your face.
"Only if I get to play with your little horns." he retorts as you loosen the tie, freeing his hands. They quickly find their way to your waist and he envelops your lips in a kiss. One of his hands reaches for your horns as he lightly races them and in turn makes you shiver from how sensitive they are.
75 notes
¡
View notes
inspired by this Hope!Hob piece by @mashumaru, have a little reverse-verse fic, Hob as Hope of the Endless and human Morpheus
(reverse-verse Hope and Morpheus are my special special little guys, I wrote an extremely long fic about them before. I think about them all the time and at this point they're basically distinct from Dreamling in my mind đ)
cw hate speech, homophobia, slurs, violence. it's pretty brief though.
--
At this point, Morpheus is no longer shocked to come home and find Hope sat at his kitchen table, knuckles and brow bone bloody, drinking tea as if none of that matters. It still rankles him, though. Bloody. Injured. Always.
Morpheus sets down his messenger bag in the hall with a thump and bypasses Hope entirely to go right for the first aid kit on the top shelf in the bathroom. Hope turns to watch him pass, a forlorn little look on his face. No, Morpheus tells himself, he does not get some sweet little welcome home kiss if heâs going to come back like that.
âMust you insist,â he says, as he drags the kitâpacked full, alwaysâoff the bathroom shelf and trudges back into the kitchen, âon always starting fights?â
Hope pushes his half-drunk tea away, pouting. âI donât start them!â
Morpheus sits in the chair next to him and just looks at him.
ââŚOkay,â Hope concedes. His lip and brow line are bruised. Thereâs dried blood under his nose. Morpheus wishes this wasnât his natural state. âSometimes I throw the first punch.â
Morpheus sighs, tearing open an alcohol swab and starting to wipe at the cut on his brow.
ââŚMost of the time,â Hope admits.
âHope,â Morpheus says, exasperated, and Hope cringes.
âYou know I canât really be hurt,â he tries to explain. âIâm not human. Besides. You think Iâm just beating the crap out of people for no reason?â
âNo,â says Morpheus, and wipes at his split lip with perhaps more force than necessary. âI do not.â
âBesides, I donât kill people and I donât like when people do it around me either. Itâs not about fighting, I donât enjoy fighting. Itâs about taking a stand.â
âYou do enjoy fighting,â Morpheus accuses. âI have seen you.â
Hope ducks his head. âItâs not about that, though,â he insists. âListen. You know I never really finish these things, but itâs my role to start it. To show that these battles can be fought. And that itâs worth standing up.â
âBar fights, such a noble cause,â says Morpheus dryly, and Hope tucks his forehead into his shoulder. Morpheus canât help himself, his hand automatically goes to the nape of Hopeâs neck, fingers combing through his hair.
âYou attract violence to you,â he says quietly. âI have seen it.â
Hope sighs. âDid you really think that people would like Hope? Sometimes they want to give me a hug but more often they just want to punch me in the face.â
âI thought you were meant to inspire,â Morpheus says, and itâs a little bit mocking of things Hope himself has declared in the past but Morpheus is listening.
âMore like get in the way,â says Hope, his face still pressed to Morpheusâs shoulder. He sounds despondent now. Morpheus supposes people instigating fights with you simply because of your nature wouldnât be pleasant. At least when people instigate fights with Morpheus, heâs usually done something to deserve it.
âYou are not âin the way,ââ he says. âIf you are, then you are meant to be there. Like when you stepped into my path.â
ââLeast you didnât punch me,â Hope mumbles.
âI considered it.â
Hope huffs. He pushes himself upright again, shaking his messy hair out of his eyes. He is so beautiful, even still speckled with blood and grime from the fight. Especially like that, if Morpheus is being honest with himself.
âSo long as you never hated me,â Hope says. His voice is fragile now, and it hurts Morpheusâs heart. Hope is like a radiant sunbeam, and still more often than not people are only trying to throw shadows over him.
âI could never hate you,â he says, and Hopeâs expression softens. Morpheus kisses him lightly on the lips. âI do not think they hate you either. You are⌠challenging. Just being around you⌠it is a confrontation in its own way. Especially for those who may have pushed you aside.â
âEven for you?â Hope says.
âEspecially for me,â Morpheus tells him. He leans his cheek against Hopeâs, overcome with fondness. Fondness that is greater for how frustrating Hope has been to him over the years, during those times of darkness. âIt is how you saved me.â
âYou saved you,â Hope says firmly. âBut if I helped, then Iâm glad.â
âAlways.â Morpheus kisses the hinge of his jaw. âWhat would I do without you?â
âNow youâre just coming on to me.â
Morpheus hums, not disagreeing.
âAdmit it,â Hope says, tangling fingers in Morpheusâs hair. âYouâre into it. When I come home all bloody.â
âMm. I am not.â
âOh, you are. I can tell.â
Morpheus skates a hand up along his thigh. âHm. Perhaps it makes you seem very fierce.â He kisses Hopeâs mouth this time, swipes his tongue soothingly over his split lip, tasting just the tantalizing hint of blood. Leans in andâ
âOw!â
Morpheus pulls back, raising an eyebrow. Hope looks sheepish, pressing his hand to his nose, which Morpheus had bumped. Hopeâs non-human body will heal quickly, but for now his nose remains at least partially broken.
Morpheus keeps giving him an unimpressed look. âI see you are gravely wounded.â Hope catches him by the hair before he can truly pull away, and he smiles. âI suppose⌠I will have to ply my mouth elsewhere. If you promise to be more careful.â
âFor such a reward Iâd promise anything,â Hope swears, and Morpheus obligingly sinks down, hands on Hopeâs thighs. It is hardly a hardship.
âYou do like this,â Hope swears. âDonât try to pretend. Youâre so transparent.â
âPerhaps you once punched a man in the face on my behalf, and perhaps I found it titillating,â Morpheus says, and Hope laughs. âIs it terrible if I wanted you to break his nose? Perhaps I am terrible. You do look appealing with blood on your hands. If it is not your own.â
Even Hopeâs own torn, bruised knuckles do stir something in Morpheus, a fierce pride and terrible heat. But he worries for him also.
âLiar,â Hope crows, gleeful, âhypocrite. Terrible lecturer. You love it. You know you do.â
âDo not get yourself horribly maimed in a bar fight,â Morpheus orders. âHoweverâŚâ he takes one of Hopeâs hands, kisses his knuckles, lets his lips linger there for a moment. âIf you must be righteous and full of passion, then I will soothe your injuries later, oh knight of promise.â
âTerrible incentive, now Iâm going to get worse,â Hope says. He caresses Morpheusâs cheek, thumbs at the corner of his mouth. His look on Morpheus is so fond, always. Then he says, âAlright, darling, for you, Iâll be careful.â
âThank you.â Morpheus leans his face against Hopeâs thigh, lets Hope play with his hair. In a moment he will indeed ply his mouth upon Hopeâs body as promised, in a moment he will indulge the spark that Hopeâs fierceness lights within him. But for this moment, he just stays close to him, a gentle valley in the topography of Hopeâs violence. Morpheus has never been gentle for anyone before. He finds he likes it.
Hope leans down, smiling, and kisses the top of his head.
~
Morpheus does not like to be âout and about.â In fact, he generally detests it. But Hope likes to be out among people and Morpheus likes to be with Hope, so sometimes he goes. Besides, he likes to see Hope happy.
The White Horse is a safe space for them, anyway. Morpheus does not feel so uncomfortable there as he does at other crowded, loud establishments. He sits in his usual corner seat at the bar, nursing a drink and working on his writing, leaning lightly against Hopeâs shoulder as Hope chats with whomever has come up to him now. He tends to attract people wherever he goes. Fortunately, no one has tried to start a fight, this time.
Hope leans in close to his ear. âGet some air with me?â
Morpheus smirks. Inevitably, getting some air will turn into Hope pushing him up against a wall and kissing him senseless. He is hardly opposed to that series of events.
Cold air washes over him as Hope leads him out to the back garden, around the corner to a private spot in the alley by the inn. It makes his hands feel even warmer as he takes Morpheus by the hips, leans him up against the wall as expected, thumbs stroking over his hip bones under his shirt. Morpheus smiles to himself.
âDid you get bored?â he teases.
Hope kisses his cheek, then his jaw, leans in close to his ear. âHardly. You know my mind is always on you no matter what. But you were being so patient.â He tugs on Morpheusâs ear, then goes to his throat, kissing along his pulse. âHow could I not reward my darling?â
âKnowing that I am the one you will go home with is its own reward,â Morpheus murmurs. He trails a hand up Hopeâs back, pulls him close so their bellies are pressed together. âSo many of those people in there want you. I see it. But they do not know that you are already taken.â It makes him feel privileged. And hungry.
Hope laughs. âPossessive little bastard.â
âYes.â Hope is so radiant. To be the one chosen by him⌠it makes Morpheusâs soul sing. âYou are mine. I am yours.â
âYours,â Hope agrees. With that he moves to Morpheusâs lips and kisses him deep. Morpheus hums in pleasure, opens his mouth to him. Tastes the beer lingering on his tongue. Sinks into the press of Hopeâs fingers on his hips, andâ
âIn public? Disgusting.â
Hope pulls away from him, and Morpheus grumbles in displeasure. Hope turns to the mouth of the alley, where a strange man is standing, expression of, indeed, disgust on his face.
When they donât respond, the man steps closer until he's almost in their space. Hopeâs jaw clenches but, perhaps remembering how Morpheus had chastised him for always getting into fights, he doesnât yet react.
âCan we help you?â Morpheus asks. Not politely.
âBy taking that somewhere else,â says the strange man. His tone is aggressive. And most of his attention seems to be on Hope, rather than Morpheus, which Morpheus doesnât like. Morpheus has noticed before that Hopeâs presence inspires ire to jump to action as often as it inspires positivity and good works. But this is the first time he has seen such outright aggression.
Maybe some people really do hate Hope.
âMind your own business,â says Hope, stiffly.
âYou fags shouldnât be allowed out in public, itâs an insult to respectable people.â Heâs still primarily looking at Hope, and it's hard to say if it's because he is the one who looks more traditionally masculine between the two of them, or if it is because of the inherent draw of Hope as an Endless. âShould fuck a real woman instead of that.â
Hope takes a quick step forward at the manâs words, expression hard.
âHopeââ Morpheus starts. Do not get yourself hurt again, he means to say. As much as I enjoy you defending our honor I also like you well. For Hope may have supernatural qualities that prevent him from dying but he is not invulnerable. His powers lie in his empathy, his charisma. Emotion and community. But he takes a punch like any other man. Comes home to Morpheus with a black eye like anyone else would.
Hope stops sharply as if caught on a leash. And Morpheus immediately regrets speaking, for the other man crows in victory.
âWhat are you, his little bitch? You a man or not?â
Hope flinches despite himself. Not, Morpheus thinks, because he cares so much about a strangerâs sense of masculinity, but because he prides himself on being able to handle himself. On being able to defend his lover. On being able to stand on his own feet after being broken down into shards by his imprisonment.
Morpheus often feels anger, is too quick to it even, but he does not often act on it with violence. It is not so much that he disapproves of violence as that he dislikes the attention associated with causing a scene, and, being rather slight, is usually at a disadvantage in any physical confrontation besides. Cutting words are his weapons instead.
But watching Hope shrink back, the hurt that flashes over himâa terrible spark jumps inside Morpheus. Hope is stronger, is better, than any person he knows. Has been through hell and come out of it still with more empathy than Morpheus has ever possessed in his life. Morpheus will not watch him made small.
He steps forward and punches the man square in the nose.
He hears a crunch. Heâs not sure if itâs the nose, or his own knuckles. The man wheels back with a shriek, clutching his bleeding nose, and Morpheus stumbles back, too, shaking out his hand.
Hope has his hands over his mouth in shock, eyes wide. âHoly shit.â When he drops his hands, heâs grinning. âHoly shit.â
Holy shit indeed. Morpheus watches the man scamper off down the alley, casting one last dark look back at them. His hand hurts, he might have broken itâbut the adrenaline pumping through his veins is much louder. He canât quite believe he did that.
âHowâd that feel?â Hope asks. He is a terrible influence sometimes. Always roping Morpheus into doing terrible things, like wanting to live.
A smile tugs at Morpheusâs lips. âIt felt⌠good.â
âYeah?â Heâs still grinning madly. âLet me see your hand.â
Morpheus shows him. Hope prods gently at his knuckles, and winces.
âThatâs gonna hurt for a while,â he says. âYour punching technique is terrible.â He kisses Morpheusâs hand anyway.
âNow you understand how I feel when you come home bloodied,â Morpheus says.
Hopeâs eyes are sparkling. He does not seem like heâs learned a lesson from that at all. âOh, I do.â He leans in close, presses his lips to the corner of Morpheusâs mouth. âYou wereâŚâ his voice is a low hum, âincredible.â
âDo I get a reward?â Morpheus asks dryly, though his breath quickens at Hopeâs proximity, the heat in his voice.
âFor defending my honor? Anything.â He takes Morpheusâs uninjured hand. He smiles. Heâs altogether too excited about Morpheus punching someone. Which only makes Morpheus want to do it again. Terrible influence, Hope. âCome home, and Iâll show you.â
But Morpheus catches him when Hope starts to tug him away. âHere.â
Hope raises an eyebrow at him, but he does look⌠interested. âSomething to prove?â
Morpheus draws him close again, leans back against the wall so Hope is caging him in. âPerhaps I simply want you, and I do not care who knows about it.â
He touches low on Hopeâs belly, his hand hidden between their bodies. He is not willing to truly expose themâthough they are somewhat sequestered in the alley at the momentâbut to play with the idea is⌠arousing. He wants Hope to touch him. Here, in their place. After Morpheus has hurt someone for him.
He cannot blame Hope for this. Morpheus is just a terrible influence upon himself.
âMenace,â Hope chuckles. âYouâve no high ground left, you know that, right? Youâve obliterated it.â
âI never did,â Morpheus says, as Hope lets him draw him in and kisses along his neck. âAlways you have been the better of us.â
âIn terms of exhibitionism, maybe,â Hope says. Even now, he wonât let Morpheus truly criticize himself. âI could be persuaded, though.â
With that, he slots their lips together. Sucks on Morpheusâs lower lip as he pushes him harder against the wall, Morpheusâs back scraping the brick. Morpheus groans, pulls him close by his hips so Hopeâs swiftly-hardening erection is pressed against his, and Hopeâs breath hitches against his mouth.
âShould I give you a proper reward?â Hope murmurs.
âYes,â Morpheus breathes. âHopeââ
He loves Hope so much. He wants Hope so much.
âVicious little thing, I love you so,â Hope says. And then, in the darkened alley by their favorite place, with his hands and mouth and the weight of his body and his devotion, he goes about showing Morpheus just how much.
166 notes
¡
View notes