I need a fucking miracle

The only thing better than one needy puppy pawing at you for attention (when you had the time to give it, of course) was two of them. You had been trailed for the better part of twenty minutes, back and forth throughout the house as you finished chores; you kept promising both men you’d be done soon, so they had held off on whining, but you could tell they were getting antsy.

It was certainly sweet, though. Stolen kisses and nuzzles, hands that squeezed without much rhyme or reason. Both of your boys wanted your affection, but you’d also let them derail you from cleaning for the past three nights — and something had to give. It wasn’t going to be your house, though. Besides, as you repeatedly told them, you only needed until seven, and then they’d have all of your undivided attention.

By six, Noah was whining, and Folio was always quick to follow — he blamed it on pack instincts, but you were pretty sure that Folio just took Noah’s soft little noises as permission to make his own. You huffed, placed your hands on your hips, and did your best to give them both stern expressions. “Go play in the living room,” you ordered, resisting the urge to melt when they both pouted in sync.

Having them act like that at the same time was always a challenge, but Folio seemed to take you more seriously than Noah did. He ducked a little, pressed a kiss under your chin, and then ushered Noah off toward the couch. “I’ll put your collar on you,” he promised the taller man. 

It was always a toss-up if Noah would let him put the collar on (he often insisted it was you that did it), but apparently Noah was amicable that evening. He huffed on his way out of the room but offered some vague affirmation you barely caught. You just hoped they’d play nice until you were finished; you only had an hour left, after all, and then you’d promised both yourself and your puppies that you’d be free.

When you finished up and walked into the living room at six-fifty, the sight that greeted you was only a little surprising: Noah and Folio tangled up on the couch, kissing and slowly rocking their hips together. Noah did have his collar on, Folio’s finger hooked through the d-ring on the front and simply resting there, and they passed breaths and soft, pleased noises back and forth between their lips.

For all of the assertiveness Noah had on stage, and the confidence and self-assuredness he'd started carrying himself with even off it, he tended to melt when Folio slipped into that headspace where he was closer to wolf than human. It was typical for Noah to top in most situations; however, once Folio allowed himself to indulge in his feral streak, Noah was quick to roll onto his back.

You stood for a moment and watched their leisurely, unhurried movements. Normally, they’d be rutting so desperately that they fell off the couch — or damn near did — but they seemed content to settle into something slow this evening.

Once you spoke, though, their gazes snapped to you. “Maybe I should go back to cleaning and leave you two to play,” you teased, well aware that you wouldn’t be able to walk away now, especially not with the heat that greeted you.

Noah whimpered and whined, pulling out that pleading expression of his that always made you fold. Folio echoed the noises, a bit quieter, and sat up, untangling their limbs. “You could play with us instead, baby,” he encouraged, baring his teeth in a hungry grin.

How could you say no to that? How could you walk away when Folio and Noah stood up, scrambled to press close — one on each side, nuzzling into your hair and neck and shoulders? While Folio was the only one who could really indulge in your scent, Noah acted like he had a similar experience. In fact, he’d even spend several minutes rubbing his face against your bare skin like he was scenting you when he felt particularly affectionate.

“Good puppies,” you cooed, scratching at Folio’s scalp and under Noah’s chin. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah? Get you both undressed for me?” The gentle, sweet encouragement was all it took for them to both start tugging you to the room in question, Folio making sweet, mindless promises that they'd make you feel good the whole time.

It seemed that when Noah was collared and mute, Folio took it upon himself to speak for both of them. He wasn’t usually nearly as talkative as he was in those scenes and encounters, and you loved hearing both the lilt to his words and the boyish giggles sprinkled throughout them. 

The three of you stepped into the bedroom and both of your boys didn’t hesitate to strip down. Noah seemed to waver and hesitate once he was naked, but you smiled and told him, “You can kneel, pup. I know you love being on your knees.” That permission was all he needed to sink down, seeming pleased to be on his knees and peering up at both of you with blatant interest.

Your own need was swelling in your gut and setting restlessness into your limbs as Folio detoured to speak to Noah on his way to the bed. “You look so hungry for something in your mouth,” Folio said, audibly delighted. He tugged on Noah’s d-ring until the taller man’s head tilted back, and then he glanced at you. “Can I give the puppy a treat? He’s been so good. I’ve been good, too,” he added, a little rushed, like he didn’t want you to forget that fact.

You took a moment to pretend to consider, tapping your chin as you walked to the bed and perched on the edge of it. A grin grew on your face at how both men squirmed, and you finally pitied them enough to nod. “Yeah, go ahead and give the puppy a treat, Folio. But if you want to fill me up, you better not cum,” you reminded him with a playful wiggle of your eyebrows.

Noah needed no more prompting to start pawing at Folio’s thigh, blinking big, dark eyes up at Folio like the werewolf would need any convincing at all. In fact, Folio was mostly hard already, never challenging to work up into a frenzy. Folio stroked himself and crooned down at Noah about earning his treat, begging for it like a good boy — and Noah barked, loudly, as he gave another excited wiggle.

For how neat Noah typically was — almost to the point of fussy — it was amazing to see how sloppy he got when he had his collar on. Any sense of restraint seemed to unravel in the face of his earnestness, his enthusiasm, and it made something in your gut heat even as your heart swelled with affection. Now was one of those moments when his composure fell apart, and he looked so beautiful as it did.

Folio certainly appreciated it too. He was always messy, both in daily life and in intimate moments, and he beamed down at Noah with obvious joy for how the puppy was taking after him. As Noah wrapped his lips around Folio’s cock and immediately began to bob his head, Folio canted his hips forward just enough to gag him on each descent. Soon, spit began to trickle from the corners of his lips, and Folio fisted Noah’s hair to get a better view, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

You moved slowly as you watched your boys, undoing your pants and wiggling them down enough to get a hand on yourself. You thought you’d get away with being a voyeur, at least for the moment, but then you felt the mess you’d made of yourself and gasped. It was barely audible, but Folio’s werewolf senses meant he cocked his head.

Lust-darkened eyes were suddenly locked on you, and you felt your heart stutter at how feral Folio already looked. He grunted and tugged Noah down onto his cock even more firmly than before, taking in the sight of you just barely exposed — enough to pleasure yourself and to start filling the room with the scent of your arousal. He always swore it drove him crazy because it set his wolf into a possessive fit, and you found you believed him.

“Hey, puppy,” Folio started, pulling Noah off of his cock. You both looked down at the singer, and he offered each of you a hazy grin, eyes glazed over and face flushed. “It looks like they need some help. You want to go get another treat?” He fisted himself loosely as he spoke, shoulders rolling as if suppressing some urge you couldn’t place.

Noah perked up at the mention of another treat, and he grinned at you when he realized what Folio meant. He yipped and started crawling the second Folio released his hair; you managed to shove your pants and underwear off by the time he made it to you, and you took a moment to scratch under his chin and coo about how handsome he was.

The praise didn’t seem to satisfy Noah for long. As Folio came to join you both, Noah nipped at your fingers and then dove between your legs — you flopped back on the mattress and gasped at the feeling of Noah’s mouth on you, wet and hot and demanding. You felt one of Folio’s hands lift your left thigh to drape your leg over Noah’s shoulder, and you used the leverage to wrap your calf around his back and pull him in closer.

Folio settled next to your head on the bed, shoving your shirt up to get fingers on your nipples. “I still get to fill you up, don’t I?” he clarified, leaning down to steal a kiss that you couldn’t help but moan into.

You nodded and tugged on the back of Noah’s collar with one hand, snagged Folio’s hair with the other. “Yeah, you can fill me up,” you promised breathlessly, rocking your lips a little. Noah was whimpering and whining against you, tongue dragging and teeth tucked so neatly away. Folio was the one who liked the tease with hints of teeth, but Noah was usually far too obedient to even pretend to bite. Not when he was getting a treat, at least.

As pleasure swelled in your gut, your back bowing up off the bed, Folio grinned down at you. “Okay, puppy, give them a break,” he ordered, pushing at Noah’s shoulder when he didn’t budge. He rumbled at Noah when he didn’t listen, and that sound was enough for Noah to pull back and blink up at him.

Lifting onto your elbows, you took a moment to just admire the sight of Noah dazed and blissful, hair sticking up oddly and face damp with sweat and the mess he’d made of himself.

“Up,” you ordered, patting the mattress next to you. Your voice came out small and shaky, but Noah happily complied regardless, clambering onto the bed and settling next to you. He preened when you sat up completely to cover his face in kisses, wiping at his chin and tutting about the mess he’d made — a mess he looked completely unembarrassed about.

Folio still hadn’t stopped touching you. His hand wandered from your chest now, exploring your stomach and the lines of your hips. It dipped down to where Noah’s mouth had just been, his touch making you whimper as your lashes fluttered, and he grinned as he bit down gently on your shoulder. 

Noah wiggled about and pawed at your side, making inquisitive little noises. It took you a moment to realize what he was asking, and you grinned brightly when it clicked. “Does the puppy want to rut today?” you asked, watching his face light up. “You want me to get your pillow and let you hump it like a dumb little puppy while Folio fills me up?”

It might have sounded odd to someone on the outside, but Noah enjoyed getting the chance to simply watch and chase his own pleasure. He couldn’t find the words for it outside of puppy space, and he didn’t have access to words at all once his collar came on, but you thought you understood well enough. Observing without touching meant all Noah needed to do was be a good boy and get himself off, and sometimes he needed that space. 

Of course, there were also times that Noah would insist without words that he needed to finish inside you — or, rarely, with you filling him up, hips rutting up into the air in search of friction you all knew he didn’t actually need to get off.

Tonight was an evening that Noah seemed more excited to rut against a pillow than he could’ve ever been to actually fuck you. You kept a body pillow that Noah would always use to get off in moments like this, occasionally reminding Noah of the mess he always made of it just to earn a furrowed brow and flushed cheeks, and it was easy enough to grab it now as Folio snagged lube.

When you’d started dating, Folio had dutifully donned a condom every time you fucked, but he had almost wept with joy when you finally decided you were fine without one. It had been a little dramatic, sure, but you’d also gotten fucked through the mattress that evening in a way that had you wishing you’d made the decision sooner.

You settled on all fours, wiggling your hips and earning a playful growl from Folio, and made sure you were facing Noah so you could watch your puppy make a mess of himself. He was simply settled for now, hips idly rocking every few seconds; he seemed far more interested in watching Folio get behind you and slick his fingers.

As Folio worked you open, Noah started to move. He gasped softly to echo each noise you made, cock already leaking against the fabric of the pillowcase, and you reached out to touch one of the hands clutching the pillow as a small reminder to take things slowly. Noah had definitely gotten too eager before and finished before you or Folio were even close, and it hadn’t been a big deal, but you wanted him to enjoy himself for as long as possible tonight.

Before you knew it, Folio was working three fingers into you, pressing them deep and curling in search of the spot that made you shudder and keen the second he found it. He made a pleased noise from somewhere deep in his chest and fucked his digits into you at just the right angle to hit the bundle of nerves every time, and you whimpered and scrunched your eyes shut.

“Please,” you finally gasped, unable to ignore how close you’d gotten from Folio’s fingers. “Please, fuck me. Fill me.” That was Folio’s favorite thing: filling you, breeding you. Sometimes he’d lose himself in the moment and mutter about giving you his pups, something you hadn’t actually talked about but that pushed you over the edge every time.

Folio pulled his fingers out and wasted no time in burying his cock in you, taking it as slowly as he could manage. Three fingers was always slightly more stretch than you needed, but it made the press and friction perfect as he settled in to the hilt inside you. “So good for me,” he said, fingers clawing at your hips. He knew better than to go before you gave permission.

You lifted your head to look at Noah, smiling to yourself when you realized he was trying to see where your body met Folio’s. He whimpered when he noticed your gaze on him, rutting a bit faster and looking awfully pathetic about not being able to get what he wanted. He was so spoiled, but it was hard to resist — you told Folio to pull out just long enough to adjust where your bodies were, giving Noah a better angle as Folio yanked you back onto his cock the second he was given permission.

Normally, you liked to kiss Noah while you got fucked, but it seemed Noah couldn’t decide who he wanted to watch in the moment, and this gave him a chance to see everything. He yipped his appreciation, butted his head against Folio’s shoulder, and then howled softly in a request for more. Again, you really had spoiled him.

“Move,” you finally managed, once you’d adjusted and were sure you wouldn’t cum too quickly. You could see Noah if you turned your head just a bit, and you watched as he settled into a rhythm of rutting against the pillow in an exact mirror of Folio’s movements. As Folio fucked you slow and deep, Noah rolled his hips the same way, and his tongue ended up lolling out as he panted.

Folio’s hands slid lower on your hips, settled somewhere he could get good, solid handfuls; he grunted softly and then fucked into you harder, clearly trying to maintain a slower pace. “God, baby,” he babbled mindlessly, voice a little hoarse, “you feel so fucking good around me. Wanna fill you up.” 

When you clenched at his words, Folio hissed and slammed his hips forward abruptly, not giving you a chance to brace yourself as he started to chase his own pleasure. He was a gentleman, of course, and kept himself upright so Noah could watch, despite the fact he’d usually drape across your back to bite on your shoulder — never harshly enough to break the skin, of course, though he’d occasionally admitted he wanted to.

It was normally Noah’s job to leave the bite marks and hickeys. Folio could have sucked the latter into your skin, and he often commented on how pretty the ones from Noah looked there, but he also didn’t trust himself not to latch on and dig his teeth in. The last thing you all needed was a second werewolf in your house.

Your gaze shifted back to Noah even as things grew blurry. You could see his face still flushed, lips parted and tongue peeking out, and noticed that he had continued matching Folio’s rhythm. “Good puppy,” you moaned, hand slipping down beneath your own body. “Good puppy.” The words set Noah whining and writhing, though he kept up his rutting like a good boy. After all, you’d told him the trick you wanted. Spoiled as he was, he was trained well.

Noah was the first one to spill. He tipped his head back, tendons in his neck straining and jaw clenching as he came hard, making a mess you knew you’d be making him clean up. Folio beat you to it, though, and barked out for Noah to clean it up the second he’d came down from his high; you both watched Noah comply, looking tired but pleased with himself.

The sight of Noah licking up his own cum made your climax hit you hard and unexpected, and you bit your bottom lip to muffle a wail as you pressed back against Folio and grinded desperately in search of more. You needed Folio to cum in you, to breed you, and you managed to get out, “Please, Nick.”

You swore you heard another mumble about pups, and then Folio was pounding into you so hard you gasped with each slam of his cock. He spilled as deep inside you as he could manage, and he kneaded your undoubtedly-bruised hips as he came down from the high. All three of you were mostly quiet in the afterglow, panting softly and reaching for each other.

Folio ruffled Noah’s hair as you squeezed his hand, and Noah leaned down to nose at your ear as Folio said, “That didn’t take you long, puppy.” He was clearly teasing, but the way Noah squirmed told you it had hit home anyways.

Noah watched as Folio pulled out of you and then plugged you with two fingers, urging you to lay down slowly so as not to dislodge them. It wouldn’t do anything, really, but you indulged him despite how sensitive you felt and the twinge it caused in your thighs. Noah wavered for a mere second and then was nuzzling in close against your chest, mouthing at the warm skin and making a pleased noise that sounded almost like purring.

“Dogs don’t purr,” you mumbled as Folio cuddled up behind you, adjusting the angle of his arm as best he could despite the fact it definitely seemed like it’d be uncomfortable. Your wolf was so stubborn, but it was endearing in this moment. It wasn’t always.

Folio kissed your shoulder and grinned. “Maybe this one does. Noah’s always been weird. Isn’t that right, puppy?” he asked, giggling softly when Noah snapped his teeth playfully.

It was interesting to watch Folio and Noah banter like this, when Noah was still in pup space; only one of them could speak, but Noah certainly had retorts for all of Folio’s remarks, especially the dumb ones. You found yourself dozing off to the sound of it now, the silly words from Folio and the grumbles from Noah. 

As Folio pressed closer, you yawned and mumbled, “I love you.” Noah yipped softly and Folio yawned around his own reply, and you knew that both of them meant it. Here, with arguably the best behaved pups in the world, you knew you were loved.

Out of curiosity, you scroll through. There are hundreds of faces, most of them look scary and intimidating until you come across him...

He had long brown hair and the prettiest eyes you'd ever seen. Out of every profile you had seen, his was the one you stopped and clicked on.

Name: Noah S. Davis Age: 24 Sentence: 15 years Time served: 4 Looking for: someone to talk to, nothing more

For some reason, you decide to write to him. You introduce yourself, tell him just a little about you, and then you ask him a little about himself and what lifes like inside.

Weeks pass, and you forgot you had even sent the letter until one evening, six weeks later, you come home to see an envelope had been put through your door. You open it, and are met with handwriting that so clearly belonged to a man.

For the first couple months, it felt a little awkward, you weren't sure how to talk to him or what to say, but he always had something to write about. Eventually, you get to know each other, and you both begin to look forward to recieving your letters.

A year passes, he tells you all about prison life- or only the ordinary parts. He talks about the library, the jobs, the never ending boredom. But he never talks about whatever put him in there. You tell him about your terrible boss, your family, how your neighbours dog keeps jumping over your fence. You tell him little things that no one else would care about, but he does. And then at the end of one of his letters, he asks- I'm guessing you've seen my mugshot, but I've never seen a photo of you. Would ever send me one? I've been picturing you in my mind all this time, it'd just be nice to finally know :)

You spend an embarassingly long time trying to choose a photo. Not because you're trying to impress him... totally not because you feel yourself falling for him! You settle on one that your friend took of you last year at the beach, one of the rare pictures where you feel like you look the most like you, and you tuck it into the evelope alongside another letter and send it off, trying not to overthink.

A week or so later, you recieve another letter from him. You open it as soon as it comes through the door and right at the top, in his messy handwriting, it says "Well, you're nothing like I imagined." Your stomach dropped, and you almost put the letter down, until you read, "You're prettier." Then your cheeks burned.

The rest of the letter was normal, he talked about a book he read in the library, and a fight that he watched break out, how the coffee in there sucks. And right at the bottom of the letter, he wrote "I hope you don't mind, your pictures on my wall now. It makes this place look less like a prison."

Eventually, your letters turn into phone calls after a couple years. When you first get a call from an unknown number, you almost ignore it, until you remember his last letter. "I finally got approved for phone calls. If you're free next Thursday around seven... I'll try" and that boy stayed true to his word.

The first call is painfully awkward, he has fifteen minutes, but he doesn't know what to say. It was strange finally hearing his voice after writing to him for so long. But it didn't take long for it to feel natural, and after that it became a part of your routine. Every Thursday, if the phones were working and he got the time slot, he'd call, and you'd chat for a little while.

Years pass by just like this, you smile every time you see a letter through your door, or something in a store that reminds you of him. He sent you a card for your birthday (though it came a couple days late), with something you love (an animal or a flower) hand drawn on the front. Every time you think about him, your heart feels soft and full. It's a feeling you've never felt for anyone before.

Then, one day, you get an envelope that feels thicker than usual. You open it up and begin to read it. "Hey, I've rewritten this letter about six times now. I just don't know how to say it, but I had my parole hearing last week..." Your heart starts pounding so you skip ahead before you can stop yourself, until you read, "They approved it."

You gasped out loud, your heart fluttering. He's getting out. The rest of the letter was surprisingly flat, he didn't sound excited about it at all. If anything, he sounded nervous. He went on to roughly explain what happened withoug giving away too much. He had given evidence against someone who used to run part of an organisation he used to work for, putting a lot of people behind bars, and if anyone found out, he'd be a dead man in no time. It worried you, making you wonder if there was anything you could do to help- which brings you to the next page of his letter.

"...Which brings me to the part I've been avoiding. My release plan has kinda fallen through. The place I was meant to stay at isn't an option anymore. My parole officer is trying to sort something else, but because of the case, nowhere is particulary keen to take me. They think I'll either be recognised or found by... 'old friends'."

You could already tell what was coming, you just didn't want to assume, and suddenly you realised you'd been holding your breath.

"I feel embarrassed even writing this. Please don't feel guilty if the answers no, in fact I'd almost prefer you said no. It would probably be the sensible decision... but if you had a spare couch, or even just a floor... would you consider letting me stay for a while until I find my feet? I'd pay rent as soon as I'm working, I'll buy my own food, I'll keep out of your way. I don't expect anything from you. You've already given me more than I ever thought I'd have. You gave me six years of company, I don't think I would've made it this long in here if it wasn't for you. So even if the answers no, thank you anyway. You have no idea just what you mean to me. I'd still write you if you'd let me, I've memorised your phone number so I could even call you when I'm out. I just thought I'd rather ask you than spend the rest of my life wondering if I should have."

You were so excited, you were practically shaking as you began writing back.

Noah,

First of all… congratulations!! :) I’m so happy for you, I think I’ve read the words “They approved it” about fifty times already. I might’ve even cried a little, but don’t let that get to your head.

Then, after a page of full of your excitement, you finally gave him your answer…

“And yes! Obviously yes. You don’t even have to ask, you can stay with me for as long as you need. I have a spare room, although it’s currently full of boxes and things I’ve been meaning to sort through for a few months. I’ll clear it out before you get here, I promise. So no, you’re not sleeping on the sofa. You’re having an actual bed. After all these years, you deserve somewhere warm and comfy to sleep :)”

A few days later, he calls. You both discuss the arrangement, and how it’d work since you live quite a few hours away from him- which is why you had never visited him. You were both quite glad this was the case though, because he told you the people that would be looking for him would never look there.

On his release day, you drove all the way to pick him up. You spent weeks imagining this moment, since you first arranged having him stay with you. You imagined seeing him, running over and giving him a big hug… but as you pull into the parking lot, you suddenly forget the entire plan, because now he’s standing right there.

Or you assume it’s him, he’s the only person standing outside the gate with a duffel bag at his feet. But he looked different… the only picture you had seen of his was his mugshot that had been taken almost ten years ago. But god, he has certainly changed.

The first thing you noticed was his haircut. His long brown hair was now gone, it was short and even looked darker than before. You knew he had cut it, he told you some guy did it for him in there, but you didn’t know what it looked like.

Then you noticed his build. A few years ago he told you he’d really gotten into fitness and using the gym equipment, and it’s clearly done him good. You had to tear your eyes away from his biceps as you parked up.

He recognised your car, you had told him what it looked like a few days ago so he’d be prepared. And as he started to wander over, your heart began to race. You stepped out, and neither of you knew what to say, which was funny as if you hadn’t spent the last six years writing to each other and talking over the phone. After a moment, he opened his arms, and you stepped into them.

If only you knew then, what would be in store for you…

Because Noah’s past can’t be put behind him until he knows for sure what happened to his best friend, Nick Ruffilo. After Noah’s arrest, he never heard from him again. He doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive, if he’s still involved in a life he never wanted to be a part of or if he got out and was now living peacefully under a new name.