reindier
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Gustave's heat is imminent.
The bad news is, he is currently on the Continent, with no suppressants on him and no alphas in sight. Going into heat at this time is as good as signing his death warrant.
The good news is, at least he does get to pick which tree to die underneath.
Nevertheless, he could've sworn that that's what he was in the midst of doing, right before he woke up to an alpha's cock up his arse.
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Verso's smile widened, and Gustave knew with crystal clarity that the universe had a sick sense of humor. His Friday night blues had just become his Monday morning colleague.
"We've met," Verso said easily, still watching Gustave with those piercing eyes. "Haven't we, Gustave?"
The use of his full name was deliberate. Not a question, not a tease. A claim. It landed in Gustave’s gut like a stone, heavy and cold, followed by the slow bloom of heat at his throat where the bruises still ached.
He was so, so fucked.
Or: they say when you love a character so much you'd inevitably write them taking it up the ass
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by reindier
04 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Good balance of prose, plot and smut with a unique premise.