The Trifecta

“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—

“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”

“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.

Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant. 

What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.

But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore. 

You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.

Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.

He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it. 

“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”

Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.

The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now. 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish. 

“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little. 

“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.

You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.

Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.

“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest. 

“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.

“Please…”

“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do. 

You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?

With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”

“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.

“If you’re grossed out—“

“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”

That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”

“The millisecond.”

His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”

“I’ll put a poet to shame.”

“Pull my hair?”

“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”

A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”

Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.

It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.

The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens. 

But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?

You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours. 

You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again. 

“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.

“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.

He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.

Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it? 

His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.

Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”

“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”

You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.

It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.

Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.

Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!

You love these fucking supermoons.

“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”

“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“

“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”

He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”

“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.

“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.

You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”

Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”

“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.” 

Caleb's body betrays him, the ghost of a moan escaping before his brain can catch up. Later, he'll blame it on stress and not having a suitable outlet or something, anything to save his dignity.

Xavier's eyes grow impossibly wide and dark. He grins, suddenly full of sharp corners, and steps forward. Caleb staggers back while Xavier's hand remains at his pants.

Caleb grits his teeth, "Stop this right now. You have no idea who you're dealing with."

Xavier raises an eyebrow as he takes another step.

"All I keep hearing are demands...."

The heel of Xavier's palm is applying firm and steady pressure up and down on Caleb's cock. It feels amazing.

"...from someone who is in no position to do so."

Caleb's back hits the wall, off-balance. Xavier takes advantage of this, positioning his knee in between Caleb's legs, spreading him just wide enough to be embarrassing.

Time and space distorts in front of Caleb as he watches Xavier cage him in, putting him on shameless display. The hand that isn't occupied below grabs Caleb roughly by the cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. Xavier's lips are soft, a sharp contrast to Caleb's own chapped ones. He kisses like iron in a velvet glove, steady and unyielding, a dark forest bathed in moonlight. This isn’t the passionate, romantic, lovey-dovey kiss that Caleb used to watch on Linkon telenovelas— no, Xavier kisses like no one Caleb has ever dreamt of kissing, self-assured, not a single movement wasted, whether it’s using his tongue to lick at the seam of Caleb’s lips, prying them open, or nipping at his bottom lip. He’s almost singlemindedly focused on extracting as many moans from Caleb as possible.

Xavier makes no attempt to divest Caleb of his clothes, instead focusing all his attention on palming him through his pants. Caleb’s desperately trying to get his breathing under control, stuttering each time Xavier moves. He makes a half-hearted attempt to pry his face from Xavier’s hand but Xavier’s hand is like a vice, and he’s unable to do anything but fall apart in front of him.

"You can let go" Xavier says, all cool and nonchalant, as if he wasn’t giving Caleb the best handjob he had ever received in his life. Xavier’s fingers graze over Caleb’s balls, and he whines at the touch, hips bucking forward. He’s rewarded for that— Xavier’s leg moves right in front of him, giving him some much needed additional friction as he grinds on his thigh.

An alien stands before him, this foreigner wearing a human's face, Xavier's face, was doing cruel and unusual things to Caleb's body, honing in on all his weaknesses with inhuman precision.

He leans up to Caleb’s ear. "You don't have to pretend," he coos, all fake sympathy. He presses a soft kiss to the underside of Caleb’s ear. A dull buzz starts to fill Caleb’s brain, turning his thoughts to mush. “I can tell you need this.”

Caleb opens his mouth, but Xavier’s gaze snaps his jaw shut, swallowing the scoff and half-hearted denial that had been brewing.

“You need to be honest with yourself,” he whispers.

He’s unable to look away, from Xavier’s unyielding focus, even though Xavier’s no longer keeping his jaw in place. No, instead Xavier reaches for Caleb’s hair and pulls, right as he presses down even harder on his cock. It’s too much, the dual sensations, and he’s right, Caleb does need it. It’s not like he has any outlet for it at the moment anyway outside of his own fist.

The pleasurable sensations start overriding the last shreds of Caleb’s resistance. He grinds his hips forward, chasing more sensation, more pressure, more something. Xavier, perhaps out of mercy, says nothing, kissing him instead, making soft sounds of encouragement every time Caleb moans. Every whimper, every moan, every movement of his hips, Xavier gives him another kiss and he moves his thigh just a little more.

The higher part of Caleb’s brain realizes that every time he thrusts his hips forward, every time he moans, he is rewarded with more. The baser part of Caleb's brain wants more. More is good. Xavier is rewarding him for doing a good job— and he wants to be so good for him right now. Honest? He could be honest for once, he could be a little selfish right?

“Just a little more,” Xavier murmurs, “you’re doing so well.”

Caleb groans as he frantically ruts into Xavier’s hand. It’s not quite enough. It’s so good, but it’s just not enough to send him over the edge. He needs Xavier’s direct touch.

Xavier can tell of course, and he pulls back a little, looking at Caleb with an expectant gaze, eyes hooded.

The realization hits Caleb as Xavier’s motions start to slow.

He wants me to say it out loud.

Under ordinary circumstances, Caleb would rather swallow his dog tags whole than beg. In every other universe, Caleb thinks, Xavier would be at his mercy instead. His hands would be in Xavier’s pale hair, holding the strands tight. His hands would be trailing up his shirt and down Xavier’s pants. They would be a beautiful dance of contrasts.

But what Caleb doesn’t know is that he is wholly outmatched. That this was a foregone conclusion no matter what timeline or universe.

Oh what the hell, what's the worse that can happen?

Caleb is too far gone, enjoying this far too much, so he acquiesces— a whisper wrenching past the last dregs of modesty as he turns to Xavier and says, “More.”

Xavier smirks,“ You’re a fast learner.”

He makes deft work of Caleb’s zipper, and dips his fingers into the elastic of Caleb’s boxers before yanking them downward, allowing the air to hit Caleb’s slick cock. Caleb wants to cry in relief, his senses are so heightened right now that even the air feels wonderful.

He figures out quickly that Caleb likes it just a little rough-- that he loves it when Xavier's thumb presses on the underside. He had been impossibly turned on before this even started, and now there is nothing left to do but enjoy the ride.

" You don't touch yourself often do you?" it's phrased as a question but really more of a statement. Was it obvious in the way Caleb fell apart so quickly?

Caleb’s head rolls back as Xavier’s thumb takes a slow swipe over the pre-cum at his slit, groaning as he is finally laid bare when Xavier finally pulls the rest of his underwear down.

"That's a shame," Xavier teases, hot breath on Caleb's neck, and oh god his movements are accelerating, it's too much. Caleb has abandoned all pretense of shame in favor of chasing the pleasure Xavier is giving him, fucking his hand as hard as he can, moans spilling from his chest--

"Good boys like you deserve to feel good."

Oh that wasn't fair at all.

Xavier punctuates that statement with a cruel twist of his hand and Caleb comes, whimpering, leaning on Xavier's shoulder as his knees threaten to give out. To Caleb's mortification, Xavier talks him through his orgasm-- "That's not all you've got right? You're doing so well. Look at all this."--and for some fucking reason it makes him come even harder.

Caleb's legs give out and he haphazardly slides down the wall. He's the picture of debauched, cheeks flushed, pants halfway down his legs, sticky from sweat and come. Xavier stands before him, beautiful, unmoving, not a hair out of place. The picture of serenity, except his ears are bright red and his pupils are so blown wide there's scarcely any hint of blue there.

The room is silent aside from Caleb's harsh breathing, and for a while it seems like neither of them are willing to break it. Xavier crouches down to Caleb's eye level as he pulls out a packet of tissue. He makes a big show out of wiping his hands before pressing the packet into Caleb's hand.

"I hope that was a good lesson. Next time, you can show me what you've learned."

Caleb's cheeks flush even darker. Xavier cocks his head, dark smile at the corner of his lips.

"Good boy."

a/n: i just wanted them to fuck each other. I joined LaDs because of Caleb's banner because he was created in a lab for me, and it turns out Xavier too. I want to write Xav/Caleb/MC soon! I also might write a followup to this since they didn't actually fuck lol. I'm really out of practice so this was fun :'3 sorry for any mistakes! Of all the LaDs WIPs I have in my drafts I can't believe this one came out first lol.