A/B/O - July

[justformemes]

THE ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA MEME


In our world, sexual roles are commonly defined by genders -- male or female or other, by sexualities -- gay or straight, bi or asexual or in-between. But what if they were defined by something else entirely?

Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse is a fusion of fanfiction tropes and animalistic behavior. In this world, sexual roles are divided into three categories: the Alphas (the dominant, the protective and the aggressive), the Betas (ordinary humans) and the Omegas (submissive, fertile and able to carry children).

RESOURCES:
Fanlore on the Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse
Alphas, Betas and Omegas: A primer.

CONTENT WARNING: Below the cut contains descriptions of animalistic sexual behavior as applied to humans, situations of dubious consent, explicit situations, mpreg, and scenarios of societal oppression. Click with caution!


ROLES:
1 - The Alpha.
* Stereotypically type A personalities.
* Anatomically: Males have a penis; females may have a penis in addition to a vagina.
* Alphas knot their mates, meaning that the base of the penis swells and locks them inside their mate while they produce copious amounts of semen in an effort to breed.
* Strong sense of smell.
* Near an Omega in heat, they experience a compulsion to mate that is almost impossible to overcome.
* Alphas may go into rut, which is their equivalent of Omega heat, and drives them to mate.

2 - The Beta.
* Ordinary human being.
* Lack of altered genitalia.
* Can mate to anyone.
* Might be able to smell hormones of Omegas and Alphas, but will not be overwhelmingly affected by them.

3 - The Omega.
* Stereotypically submissive, quiet, intelligent and less physically able.
* Female anatomy is similar to Betas; males are self-lubricating and may have either an external or internal vaginal setup.
* Regularly go into heat, which involves being overcome by the urge to mate. They are unable to consent while in heat.
* May be made compliant by a bite to the neck. However, that may also induce a mating bond.
* Often regarded as second-class citizens or prizes to be won.

SITUATIONS:
1 - Bonding - Love at first sight. You've spotted your soulmate. You can smell them, you can feel them, you know that they'll be with you until the end of your days. Unless there's something between the two of you. It could be age - maybe one of you has to wait until the other has reached maturity. It could be that the bond is one-sided, and the other has yet to fall in love. It could be an unwanted bond, or society could have divided you into different places. Is your love strong enough to conquer?

2 - Heat/Rut - The need is coming on you strong. Everyone for a half-mile around can smell it. Better find someone to ride it out with, or hole yourself up in a room with a few bottles of water and a durable sex toy. And you'd better hope that there isn't someone out there who will take advantage of your pliable state. Best case scenario, there might be a Beta who can take care of you, or fend off anyone too predatory.

3 - Pregnancy - Whether through a heat or not, you're pregnant. Congratulations - or condolences. Is it time to start a family, or time to start panicking?

4 - Suppressants - You're using suppressants to keep yourself on an even hormone cycle, skipping heats, or maybe pretending to pass as a different class of society. After all, Omegas might want to be in the military, where they're not usually allowed - or an Alpha might want to take a job in a university or as a nurse. Shouldn't they be allowed to, if their hormones are suppressed? Just hope that you don't miss a dose.

5 - Mistaken Identity - That friend that you always thought was an Alpha, or an Omega, or a neutral Beta, turns out to be something entirely different, and your world is turned absolutely upside down. Does it challenge your preconceptions? Or does it just ruin the balance between you two?

6 - Unlikely Pairs - After all, there's no actual reason that Alphas have to mate with Omegas. Maybe two Omegas can satisfy each other. Or two Alphas. Or your intended mate could easily be a Beta. Maybe this is just about breaking out of your pre-established role and becoming something new.

7 - Manifestation - In some cases, an individual may not know they are Omega, Beta or Alpha until their first heat/rut/manifestation, usually happening in early teen years. It may take you by surprise; it may be a blessing, or may be a deep disappointment.

8 - Other - Adventures in getting jobs, making families, fighting bad guys, and anything else you can come up with!

Comments

[velvetshot]

( The room tilts out from under him, and Yazoo is left blinking stupidly up at the ceiling for a long moment before he realises what's actually happening. This is a position he's been in before, after all, although never quite so severely, and he grabs onto the cheap headboard in an attempt to keep himself steady. He really needn't bother: Sephiroth's hold on him is more than tight enough prevent him from falling, and that omega part of him purrs in the knowledge that his Alpha will keep him safe.

His Alpha, Yazoo thinks dazedly, as his teeth scrape over his lower lip. He's never felt especially possessive of Sephiroth before—it isn't his place to make demands of him, after all—but with their scents mingled and those mating pheromones dripping from their skin like so much sweat ... it's impossible for him to shake the idea that they were made for this. That they belong to each other, in a way no one else should get to experience.

That strange thread of thought is quickly severed when Sephiroth's lips seal over his hole again, his teeth pricking new pleasure into slick, tender skin. The new angle makes it a wholly different experience this time: gravity works with the plunge of his brother's tongue to give him the illusion of being filled, and Yazoo gasps as he shivers bodily against him. One hand loosens itself from the bedframe to reach for Sephiroth's thigh, his nails scratching against his leathers as more of those sweet, clear juices drip down to the small of his back. )

Harder ...

( Because he does need a knot, he just doesn't realise it yet. )

[hybred]

[ There's a sweetness to Yazoo's begging that strokes Sephiroths' ego, and when it escalates to a certain degree he doesn't begrudge giving his remnant what he wants. Here, with the heavy, cloying scent of heat making the room humid with desire, it would be easy to cave to the instinct: but Sephiroth is not so far gone just yet. A full rut lingers on the edges of his awareness, urged on by the flavor of Yazoo on his tongue, the desperate way he claws at his body and whines for more, deeper, harder —

But he isn't finished indulging himself. His lashes lift just barely, the acid green of his irises cutting down the length of Yazoo's body. From this angle, he can see the severe arch of his body, the pink flush of his cock hanging still-hard against his abdomen, leaking fluid all up his sternum. Yazoo's skin is blushed with warmth and arousal, it pinches his cheeks and his nipples, the rush of blood to his head from this position.

Sephiroth doesn't acquiesce. Instead, his jaw flexes close to Yazoo's body, the sound of his mouth pulling away is wet and obscene — the self same noise of their lips parting when they kiss. He drags his tongue up against his perineum, against all the soft, vulnerable skin at the very root of his cock, before plumbing back through his rim — pushing bare inches of wet, velvet muscle into his shivering channel. Not once do his eyes close, now; instead watching as his actions make his omega shiver apart under his attention. ]

[velvetshot]

( With every heartbeat that passes, it becomes more difficult to tell where he ends and where Sephiroth begins. Yazoo is soaked in every sense of the word: soaked in his brother's scent, soaked with his own slick, soaked with pre-come and saliva and even a few tears, because it feels so good to have Sephiroth completely and utterly to himself. Later, he might come to realise that it's all part of the biological imperative encouraging him to breed, but in the moment? His need to give everything to Sephiroth is utterly overwhelming.

More colour flushes into his cheeks when plump lips pull away from the pout of his hole. The sound of it is filthy—almost as filthy as Sephiroth looks with his face shining and nestled between his cheeks—and more fluid drips from the tip of his cock to streak his chest when that searching tongue laps up to the root. It isn't until he thrusts it back in that he realises he might be about to come again—

That he is coming again, his lips open around a cry as his cock shivers and spurts more of that thin release onto his collarbones. Wetness slicks up his spine and glosses Sephiroth's tongue as his hole tightens and clenches around the muscle, his thighs twitching either side of his head as he grabs at Sephiroth in his need for even more contact. )

[hybred]

[ He watches the first throw of passion on Yazoo's face, when his expression crumples and the tears spill from the corners of his eyes under the pressure. His body jerks in Sephiroth's iron, possessive grip; maybe Yazoo could have reflexively, accidentally jerked away from the onslaught of attention if he weren't bent so vulnerably onto his shoulders. When he finally relents, lifting his face from his flinching hole, that soft sucking sound follows like a punctuation to Yazoo's shouting orgasm. Slick smears his open fuck-flushed mouth and drools off his chin, dripping onto the body underneath him — and then onto his own collarbone when he maneuvers Yazoo back onto the mattress.

It should humanize Sephiroth, to be pink in the face and sloppy with slick, but the gleam of his irises seems all the brighter and strange for their intensity, the blow of his pupils serving only to make the contrast more apparent. He doesn't wipe his face, but instead puts both hands to his belt to divest himself of the remainder of his garments. With the same clatter of his jacket, they end up in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Already he's engorged, his cock hanging heavy and bold between his pale thighs. The suggestion of the knot nestled at the base, noticeable already and thus alarming for how much bigger it might get. He swipes his cheeks and mouth with his palm, and lowers the wet mess to his stiffened flesh. A thin drool of pearlescent fluid oozes from the tip when he squeezes the knotted root. ]

Get in to your nest. I'm going to breed you properly.

[velvetshot]

( It takes Yazoo a long moment to realise that Sephiroth wants him to move. The aftershocks of his second orgasm are somehow more intense than the first: the room around him seems hazy, as though his brother has somehow managed to bleed his presence into every atom, and those burning green eyes above him seem to fix Yazoo in place as he gazes up at him. Like this, he's every inch the god he claims to be. This is how Yazoo likes him best: divested of his clothing, his eyes wild with want as his gaze roves over him from beneath the fan of his lashes, and the scent of his arousal hanging heavy on the air. Sephiroth is many things, but Yazoo is beginning to realise that he likes the apex predator best.

Get into your nest.

Roused by the mention of his nest, Yazoo flushes with pride as he finally manages to pull himself into action. It doesn't take much doing—just a little shifting so he's in the centre of his pillow arrangement—where he settles on his back with his knees bent and his thighs spread. It frames Sephiroth betwee his knees and gives him a moment in which he can just look, and Yazoo feels his hole squeeze up tight in anticipation as his eyes settle on that thick, slick-tipped cock.

He's never seen the his knot look like that before. It's a gentle bulge that Yazoo slowly realises will swell inside of him to seal them together, and a soft groan rises to the back of his throat as he reaches down to rub the heel of his palm against his own cock. He tilts his hips as he does so, parting his thighs just a little more to expose the swollen, kiss-fucked hole shining wet between his cheeks. )

I want it.

( Teeth skim over his lower lip as he let's his gaze slide up Sephiroth's body, caressing over his chest throat until he finally reaches his face. He's still panting, his cheeks flushed pink and streaked with those few ecstatic tears. )

... Alpha, please. I want to be yours.

[hybred]

[ Sephiroth tilts his head, just a little — just enough. A thin thread of silver falls across his face, gets stuck on the rise of his cheekbone where the haphazard wiping of his face has left some measure of his skin damp. ]

You think you could belong to anyone else?

[ The question is rhetorical, but nevertheless, a threat hangs around it's edges. That he allows Yazoo to run amok, amuse and pleasure himself with the bodies of other, less-deserving creatures is nothing less than a gift. If he wanted to, he could snatch that luxury away, crush Yazoo into submission if he didn't elect to follow his direction willingly — but it doesn't need to come to that. His remnants are his own down to their molecular make up. They have their own facets of personality, have grown in some measure into identities nearly their own, but he made them, and he could unmake them just as easily, if he so chose.

But for now, it's lip service. Yazoo is panting with desire and watching him with eyes so blown that the slits of his pupils could nearly be round again, offering himself up like a sacrifice. He's doing his very best, and Sephiroth appreciates his submission for what it is.

When he kneels between Yazoo's open thighs he is no bigger than he was seconds ago, but the sheer presence of him, hot with desire and hungry to overwhelm, almost makes him seem that way. He leans forward onto one arm, bracing on the mattress next to Yazoo's slender ribs and slides his heavy cock against the heat of his groin. The thick muscle glances through all that slick, a single skin-to-skin rut enough to wet him from tip to base. ]

Do you know what will happen if I come inside of you like this?

[ His voice, somehow, stays smooth and silky, even as he reaches between his own legs to press the the bulb of his glans against Yazoo's twitching hole, even as he levers his weight against his smaller body to force his rim to relent and swallow Sephiroth up, inch by unforgiving inch. ]

[velvetshot]

( Yazoo's palms smooth up Sephiroth's chest to the broad slope of his shoulders as he moves on top of him. The moment is pregnant with anticipation of their joining: they've done this enough times that it certainly isn't a novelty, but Yazoo's heartbeat stutters in his chest all the same as their bodies move to slot against one another.

Sweltering heat follows as he moves down onto his arm and drapes Yazoo in a veil of silver, and the Remnant tilts his head just enough to nudge his nose against the side of his brother's throat. Their scents seem to be mutating—combining, even—as their desire for each other shimmers into something new; a need to rut and fuck and come in a way that seems to extend beyond satiating their usual lusts. Yazoo's hands slip down to Sephiroth's hips to clutch at taut skin, to keep him pulled close, and his tongue slides up salt-smooth skin as he glides his cock through the mess of slick. )

What do you mean?

( His exhale hot and damp against the column of Sephiroth's throat. Yazoo doesn't understand the question; he's come inside him before and, while deeply fulfilling, it's never merited questioning. His thoughts stray to the hint of swelling at the base of Sephiroth's cock: )

... Your knot will keep you inside of me.

( That must be the answer, mustn't it? Thick lashes flutter closed for half a heartbeat as pressure sets against his hole, begins pushing in, and more slick melts around the head of Sephiroth's cock as the muscle finally swallows him up. Small palms skim down to the meat of his brother's ass to encourage him in deeper, and Yazoo blinks up at him with raw hunger as he bends one knee back to his chest. )

And—we'll be joined.

[hybred]

[ The way Yazoo's voice jostles when he pushes into him, the hitch in his breathing when his empty body is forced to accomodate a shape much bigger than it's natural state, spills scorching pleasure down Sephiroth's spine. He watches his brother's face under heavy eyelashes, slitted pupils blown with arousal, to capture that wrecked expression in his mottled memory. He seems lost in a haze of his own wanting, and it does nothing to deter Sephiroth from taking advantage of it. Yazoo's warm hands catch at his flanks and Sephiroth complies, impaling him slowly but surely, feeling the ooze of slick squeeze around his cock, dripping between them, until the curve of his knot meets his quivering flesh.

Only then does the pressure stop, because Sephiroth pulls himself back, a soft shluck of his engorged flesh easing out of Yazoo's body only to be crushed back into his channel. The pace isn't sharp and and quick just yet — Sephiroth smothers him slowly, grinding himself luxuriously into the clutching heat of Yazoo's body. The muscles in his torso go taut with pleasure. ]

This body was made to carry a legacy.

[ He smooths his free hand from Yazoo's thigh and opens it over his flat abdomen. When he fucks forward into his remnant it's with intent, as though he could touch his own palm with the head of his cock from the inside. ]

You'll hold that inside of you and just like our Mother, give birth to a god.

[velvetshot]

( It doesn't make sense until it does. Yazoo had never considered the possibility of extending Mother's legacy in any way beyond the gift of her cells: a disease to some, to be sure, but public opinion matters little. With Sephiroth on top of him, filling out inside of him, and his own body flush with a heat that's made him ache for sex ...

The truth of what's happening slots into place as his brother's palm splays against his abdomen. Yazoo's body is ready to bear, and Sephiroth is to be the one who'll breed him. )

... Give birth?

( No, a god. It would be a gift, wouldn't it? The ultimate honour, and one that would secure him a place by Mother's side forever. Yazoo's gaze glances down between them to linger over where Sephiroth's hand touches his belly, but the thick drive of his cock has him tossing his head back into a puddle of silver before too long. His throat works noiselessly as his hands fall back to the sheets, his cock quivering and wet between them as he lifts his other leg to drape over Sephiroth's hip. It opens him up deeper, lets Sephiroth's cock sink further into the sloppy clench of his hole, and he shudders around a tight squeeze of pleasure as his rim flutters and sucks at him. )

I want that. I want it, for Her.

( And for his brothers, and for himself, if only to slake his body's need to be made heavy with seed. One of his own hands moves to lay atop Sephiroth's as, driven by omega need, he tilts his head to bare his throat in submissive offering: )

I'll make a child for all of us.

[hybred]

[ It doesn't occur to him that Yazoo might not want it. His will is tied to Sephiroth's, to Mother's, so the idea that any part of that might not slot together like perfect pieces of a jigsaw is beyond the realm of comprehension. Each of his remnants have a part to play in the realization of Jenova's intent and this is no different. The gift of her cells could further that, but this was more than that: this was another perfect being to enact her desire without petty human interference.

Yazoo's hand covers his own and Sephiroth's lashes go low and intense. The acceptance, the submission in the showing of his throat, the spread of his thighs to offer his body up for it's intended purpose — ]

Yes, Yazoo.

[ There's praise in his voice, and he slips his hand from his brother's warm belly to brace it against the mattress. The milky arch of his jugular is too much of a temptation, and when Sephiroth pumps himself in to the swell of his knot, he closes the distance. His opens his mouth against his flesh, wide and hungry, and sinks his teeth in — then sinks them deeper, his canines piercing flesh when he crowds even deeper and the hard bulge of flesh at his root pushes passed his rim, impaling the omega fully on his cock. ]

[velvetshot]

( Sephiroth is pleased.

Yazoo hears it in the lilt of his voice, feels it in the way he moves his body over his, fucking and grinding and pressing in deep to reward him for his good behaviour. His brother's pleasure is also there when he leans down to set his teeth against his throat: Yazoo feels the heat of his breath, the sharp bite of his canines as they push against his skin, but the real proof comes in the way he shifts the angle of his hips and begins to bear down hard.

His knot, Yazoo realises. His knot is fat and hard and pushing against him, stretching at his hole as he demands entrance to the deepest part of him. It sticks his breath in his throat and puddles sweat in the smooth divots of his collarbones; Yazoo has never done this before, never taken something so thick and swollen, and his hands reach for Sephiroth again as the muscle quivers, softens, and— )

Hah!

( His cry loses itself against star-spun hair as he's simultaneously split beneath his cock and his teeth, his throat aching and his hole stretched glossy-pink and taut around Sephiroth's heft. Yazoo can't speak, he can barely think as he's pushed along that knife's edge of pleasured pain, and he doesn't realise he's coming again until he feels his body is trying to milk an orgasm from Sephiroth too.

It's different this time, somehow. Yazoo's cock shudders and gives up only a few sparse drops of pearly fluid, but his hole drips slicker than ever before as his muscles ripple and squeeze at Sephiroth's knot. Lashes clumped with tears flutter over the green of his eyes as he pants and gasps his way through it, his hair sticking to his temples and his cheeks a hectic, blooming red. )

[hybred]

[ Sephiroth closes his eyes around the consuming sensation. Yazoo's body clutches at him, swallowing like a throat around the whole length of his cock, squeezing on the still unfulfilled shape of his knot. The taste of their shared blood on his tongue, the rush of omega hormone crawling over his tastebuds and flooding his senses, is a powerful thing. Sephiroth can feel his body respond, animal, and he doesn't bother trying to stop the first ooze of seed, painting the deepest part of his brother, slicking his already sopping interior.

He could finish this way, just like that — semen wrung out of him, bloating his remnant until there's no doubt it would take. Whether it's Sephiroth's own self control, or a covetous desire to wreck his omega beyond use for anyone else, Sephiroth doesn't stop. He unhooks his teeth from Yazoo's throat, laving the bruised and bleeding ring with his tongue, but grinds his hips back.

The hard bunch of his root tugs insistently on Yazoo's rim until it comes free with a pop, but he hardly has time to adjust to the emptiness before Sephiroth fucks back into him. The thick, rounded shape crowds persistently against the twitching flesh until it can force it's way back inside. Sephiroth, it seems, isn't finished fucking him — only now, every thrust brings with it the exquisite pleasure-pain of his knot pushing and pulling at Yazoo's stretched hole. Words escape him; Sephiroth only breathes deep and hot against Yazoo's purpled neck, his teeth a subtle threat, his lips brushing the ruined skin. ]

[velvetshot]

( Sephiroth needn't bother trying to ruin him for anyone else. Yazoo already knows that no-one will be able to compare after this—knows that Aidan won't be back, that his other fucks will be cast to the wayside now that he has Sephiroth giving him this. He strains against that deep, hot pull with stuttering gasps as he pulls back, tugging his rim with him as it clings to his knot, and a broken little whimper gusts against his clavicle when it finally pops free. )

No—

( It feels wrong to be left suddenly empty, but luckily Sephiroth doesn't seem to be intent on leaving him that way. When he grinds forwards again Yazoo clutches his biceps and tilts his hips up as best his can, eager to encourage him to fuck back inside and fill him up with his knot again. It's slick and wet, edging on painful in the most deeply satisfying of ways, and even in the aftermath of orgasm Yazoo shivers like he wants nothing more than for Sephiroth to keep fucking him.

He tilts his head to press the curve of his cheek against his brother's temple. Even the ache set into his neck isn't enough to pull him away from the pleasure, and when Sephiroth sinks back inside to fuck him with his knot his thighs tremble around his hips. Again, then again, his knot crushes back inside to stretch him open, and Yazoo feels wetness on his cheeks as he lets his hands skim up to sink into that heavy veil of silver silk. )

Please.

( A sob—but a lusty sound. )

Please. I need it.

[hybred]

[ Its beatific, that broken crack in Yazoo's voice — utterly wrecked under the onslaught of his alpha. Sephiroth soaks in it, panting soft and hot against the ruined column of his throat, the mouth-shaped bruise that will be there for everyone to see when they return. His brothers, his crass lovers, should Yazoo choose to bring them to his bed. Perhaps the idea is laughable, when Sephiroth's intent is not just a quick, satisfying fuck — but something much deeper and lasting.

His tongue draws a line over his exposed throat, teeth skimming the line of his jaw without sinking into the damp flesh. It leaves him breathing soft and heavy against the edge of Yazoo's open mouth, tasting the shape of his begging, luxuriating in the sound.

Another time, Sephiroth might have held him open — held him down to be fucked within an inch of his life. Here, Yazoo's shaking thighs are already spread and accomodating, his whole body thrumming with need. Despite the hurt of his knot, thick and unyielding, stretching his hole to accomodate — depsite the puncture of teeth in his throat. And why shouldn't Yazoo comply with everything Sephiroth wants? He belongs to Sephiroth, in every measure of the word.

Finally, the clutch of his insides too much to bear, Sephiroth curls his frame over the slighter torso of his brother. He palms his flank, hiking his milky though against his waist, impaling him on the fat, full shape of his cock when he drives in deep, forcing his remnant to hold the heavy shape of him in the deepest part of his gut. When his orgasm hits, it rolls over him — pulls a throaty, animal growl from his chest that reverberates against Yazoo's skin. Already fat, his knot swells — thickens, impossibly, in his omega's abused channel, locking them tight together as his balls draw tight and he comes in thick, heavy ropes.

So much; a byproduct of his nature, as apex of his kind — Sephiroth rocks himself in tight, short thrusts, hardly pulling the fisted shape of his knot back so much as rutting deep, deeper still, ensuring his seed finds it's rightful place to plant. ]

[velvetshot]

( If Yazoo could come again, he knows he would have done as that growl reverberated against his throat. It sinks into his darkest parts and claws its way into everything that makes him an omega: it makes him want to keep his legs spread, keep his throat bared, keep the heavy swell of his cock clutched deep inside him, and Yazoo feels himself unfurl into bonelessness beneath him as his knot pushes in that final time. It feels huge — Yazoo is reeling with it, his breath coming in uneven, panting whines — and his eyes flutter closed before rolling up when he grinds in, in, until he feels he might split.

Spurt after spurt of liquid heat pours into his bruised gut. A strangled, wet sound rises to Yazoo's lips as he clings to Sephiroth's hair and the back of his neck; it's like his body can't decide whether it's in pleasure or in pain or whether that even matters at all. What it knows does matter, however, is holding the glut of seed inside him long enough for it to take, and his hole tightens around the base of his knot to further secure his cock as it spills.

By the time he settles, Yazoo barely feels like a person any more. He's swollen-full, wet, and ripe, like something heavy with sticky juice, and deep tremors shake his thighs around Sephiroth as he noses into the side of his head. He rubs his cheek against him, relishes where his lips catch against the curve of his ear and the cut of his jaw, as though desperate to rub as much of his own scent against his brother as he can in exchange for his cock, his cum, his bite.

Perhaps this is what completion feels like. )

... How do we know if it worked?

( His voice is a wrecked thing. Yazoo lifts a shaking hand to cradle the back of Sephiroth's skull, his lips brushing damp against his temple as he speaks. )

[hybred]

[ Every cell in his body seems to shiver, the lust of Reunion settling somewhere deep in his bones, the desire to consume softened out and relieved by this carnal act. Sephiroth finds himself panting against Yazoo's throat and jaw when he comes back to himself, when the last throb of his cock finally wrings itself out in the full, tight clutch of his remnant's body. He can feel his omega rubbing against him, scenting him with the only part of his body that hasn't been pinned and used to it's fullest extent, and Sephiroth exhales long and deep. He isn't immune to the effect of it, how it soothes the aggressive throb of hormone pumping all through his bloodstream.

Sweat has made his spine damp, his collarbones. The space between them is humid, made slick with how much Yazoo has climaxed, but not a slip of Sephiroth's own cum between them. His knot is too thick to pull out, Sephiroth can feel the strain on the body beneath him when he shifts just slightly, levering himself onto his elbows. His hair is a cascade all around them, creating a curtain of intimacy, spooling out on the pillows and scattered sheets. When he lifts his head, it's to find Yazoo's mouth and kiss him slow, deep, a reward for his submission and a self-indulgent act, to taste the inside of his mouth. ]

You will know.

[ His voice is deep and raw as he slides one hand between them, laying his broad palm over the lowest part of Yazoo's abdomen between them. ]