Kurt giggles a little at the gathering crowd, giving Kai—oh yeah, it's definitely Kai, they can tell—just as many scritches behind the ear as they gave his brother. For being so huge, powerful and toothy and more than twice the size of the hunting dogs back in their village, the wolves really aren't as scary as one would think. They just kind of act like overgrown puppies, smiling and panting and wagging their tails, excited about cuddles and pets. What on earth were the humans so scared of?
"You will?" They blush a little at the thought, awestruck that the pack would change up their habitat so drastically just for them. Like they really are one of them. A proper member of the pack. It makes their full stomach do giddy little flips, heart beating faster where it's pressed against Corrigan's. "I'd l-like that. Thank you so much..."
From within the veritable pile of wolves surrounding them on all sides, covering their bare skin with soft fur and body heat, Kurt sees poor Benji pacing anxiously, radiating misery. He's really this worried about them? It feels surreal, having someone cherish them so much he'd worry himself sick over them, let alone having five. Swallowing down the sudden swell of emotion, Kurt reaches out for the youngest wolf, fingers curling invitingly, a sleepy smile on their face.
"Hey, i-it's okay, Benji. You don't have to worry so much. C'mere, baby, it's okay," they gently call, ready to pet his sweet little face once he gets close. Kurt doesn't even realize they're being tested. They just want to pet their fretful mate, reassure him that they won't freeze to death in the night. "See? I'm completely fine. M-More than fine. Everyone's keeping me so warm and safe, r-right? It's okay, puppy, you can relax. That's a g-good puppy..."
When you're a creature of the forest, half-beast, half-man, you grow up learning to be cautious. Benji, raised among other wolves, had been taught that from his earliest puppyhood -- never trust an outstretched hand, never approach a human, never accept their touch. It's one of his oldest, most severe lessons, taught with growls and firm lectures and his parents clutching him close whenever he wandered too far from the pack.
But Kurt...Kurt reaches out one sleepy hand, and Benji doesn't even hesitate. He moves forward immediately, anxious and loving and whining soft, clear notes of adoration, bumping his sleek head up under their hand and licking at their palm. Kurt isn't human, enemy, dangerous, they're nate, beloved, cherished, they're those soft, sweet words and the comforting caress of long fingers through his fur. They make every bit of him, wolf and man and all that's in between sing with joy, a delight that starts with him nuzzling and mouthing at their hand and ends with his tail wagging so hard that he smacks Kai with it and earns a perturbed grumble.
Corrigan huffs out a laugh as Benji attempts to crawl up onto his lap, wanting to get even closer to Kurt, wanting to cover them with his not-at-all-small form. "All right, all right, hold on," he chuckles, gently pushing the pup away with his foot, then squeezing Kurt tight once more. "I'll be right back, beloved, don't fret," he murmurs against their forehead, before carefully disentangling himself from their embrace. His knot slips free, and Kai eagerly drags his long, hot tongue up the backs of Kurt's thighs, earning a reproachful growl from Naseer. They're supposed to be letting them rest, not getting all riled up again.
For his part, Corrigan is crossing to the fire, scooping some of the rich, meaty stew into a rough bowl, then setting it to one side. This last task done, he rolls his shoulders back a couple times, then shimmers into his own wolf form -- half again as big as even Kai, inky-black and majestic and every inch the Alpha. Gathered around Kurt, the other wolves wag their tails and nuzzle at Corrigan as he returns to the furs, all eager to be close to him, all shifting around to let him curl up closest to their mate once more. The massive, graceful wolf nudges gently at the human's hand, twitching his tail expectantly. He wants some of those ear-scratches too, please.
Oh, Kurt doesn't like being empty at all. This might be a problem. It hasn't even been half an afternoon, and they're already this miserable feeling Corrigan pull out of them, his spend trickling down their shivering thighs in slow thick trails. At least Kai licks them clean, earning soft little whines from the human, letting his long tongue against their sensitive, abused hole and the feeling of four huge, warm, fluffy bodies against theirs comfort them in their time of need.
The pack might find they have their work cut out for them, keeping their needy little mate satisfied.
When Alpha returns, cutely demanding ear scratches, Kurt giggles bright and loud, both hands finding his long, sleek face. "You really are beautiful," they murmur, gently scritching the hollows of his ears, watching how even Alpha's tail starts wagging with delight. "A-All of you are. I was so scared at first, I just... I c-can't believe how lucky I am."
Settling back down into the pile of furs and wolves, Kurt eases Corrigan down with them, wanting to curl up close to him as they drift off to sleep. They can really feel it now, the exhaustion, heavy in their bones. They rest their forehead against Corrigan's long muzzle for a moment, eyes closed in gratitude and reverence, a soft "Thank you," escaping them before they can stop themself. Then they curl up against him, within their pile of mates, drifting off to sleep with a serene smile on their face.
Naseer's eyes catch Corrigan's then, crinkling at the corners in a wolfish smile. He's never loved his brother more than he does in this moment. No one on this earth is more fit to be their mate than Kurt is, and he just... knew they would be there. That they would want this. It's nothing short of a miracle.
The warm, miraculous feeling carries into the next morning, which dawns clear and bright and perfect. The pack rises early, wagging tails and silent, canine delight at the sight of Kurt curled up in the furs, perfect and warm and safe and theirs. It takes a few stern jabs from Naseer to herd the younger wolves away, so they don't wake up their exhausted little human. Corrigan stays, curled up in the fur, letting the pack go off to hunt down breakfast. The heat and hormones of the night before have somewhat abated, and it's time to think practically -- its still the heat of summer, but Kurt will need things to stay warm and fed, and the pack is always thinking about the upcoming bitter winter. Now with a mate to provide for, there'll be more hunts than ever.
But for this morning, Corrigan simply allows himself the domestic comfort of sleeping in a bit, shimmering back to his humanoid form so he can wrap his arms around Kurt and pull them close, kissing at the back of their neck. The birds outside are near-deafening, and there's a low grumble in the alpha’s stomach that finally prompts him to sit up. If he's hungry, Kurt must be starving. The stew is still warm, resting over the low coals of the fire, and Corrigan scoops some into a bowl, fetching another one of water from the rain barrel, then setting both near the couch.
Then, softening, he reaches out to stroke a loose wave of hair out of Kurt's sleeping face. "Wake up, little one," he murmurs, fingers gentle down the shape of their cheek.
The first thing Kurt feels upon waking up is the pain. Not even their worst beatings have left them hurting this bad. From the burn in their muscles to the ache of handprint-shaped bruises to the ring of deep, scarring bite marks encircling their neck, not to mention the shocks of pain shooting up their spine whenever they shift their legs. It hits them all at once as soon as they're roused from their slumber, their eyes slowly opening to the sight of Corrigan sitting beside them.
Another sensation hits them then, as they realize yesterday wasn't a wild fever dream after all. Corrigan. The pack. The claiming. Kurt is still too sleepy, too groggy—and in too much pain—to jerk upright in fear, but they still feel their gut plummeting, a wash of cold sweat prickling on their naked skin once it all dawns on them.
They're bonded to them now. All five of them. Claimed for life, like a marriage pact. This is their home now, with the pack, forever. And while that thought had brought them so much comfort and hope and purpose yesterday, today they're struck by the reality of their situation. What marriage actually entails.
"A-Alpha?" they croak out, shocked at how hoarse and small their voice is. Hours of dehydration and screaming and taking a beast cock down their throat really did a number on them. It hurts. But they can't bear the thought of how bad it will hurt if they don't hurry and live up to the pack's expectations. They clear their throat, slowly sitting up, blearily looking around the dusty little cabin. "Um... Wh-Where is everyone?"
Kurt forgets -- or perhaps they aren't aware yet -- that Corrigan’s senses aren't those of an ordinary man. He can hear their pulse immediately skyrocket when he touches them, the soft hitch in their breath when they move, the swallowed-back wince of pain when they speak. More than that, he can smell it -- the mixture of fear and pain that had been clouded by desire the day before. He's privately glad the pack is away, because they would've been inconsolable at their mate's discomfort of any kind, much less the full-body scent of pain.
He's a little inconsolable himself, but he hides it well, arm immediately going out to support Kurt’s upper back, strong and warm and immovable. "Easy, go slowly," he murmurs, reaching for the water bowl first and bringing it to Kurt's lips. "Sip, little at a time," he prompts, moving around to sit behind the small human, supporting them with his body. "The pack's out on a hunt, they'll be back soon. Don't fret."
Their heart is still beating far too fast, and Corrigan resists the urge to demand why. His mark is on their neck, vivid and angry-red, but undeniable -- they're his, nothing and nobody can hurt them. Why does he still smell fear on them? Instead he simply let's himself assume it's due to the pain, the after effects of a truly raucous claiming. Pain heals, as do wounds. No reason for him to get worked up.
Pressing his lips to the mark, Corrigan resists the urge to turn back into a wolf and clean the wounds again and again, until that tight, pained note leaves Kurt's hoarse voice. Instead, gently: "Tell me what hurts the most. Naseer's been stocking up on remedies for weeks now, we have more than enough."
Kurt has to fight not to flinch away from the Alpha's big hands, finding their body to support them, to soothe their aches. It's not that they're scared of him, but... No, that's a lie, they are scared of him. Terrified. Yes, he's been so kind and gentle and good to them, showering them with praise and attention, making them feel so so good. He's also huge and immensely powerful. They've seen him transform into a beastly wolf as tall as they are before their very eyes. They've felt on their body just what he is capable of doing to them when he's pleased with them. The mere thought of what he will do should he ever find himself displeased is enough to chill the blood in their veins. Not to mention their other four equally powerful, equally terrifying mates, mercifully not in the cabin right now.
Father doesn't like it when they flinch away. They are to take his punishments standing tall and straight, to face the consequences of their actions like any other decent human. If they want to act like a girl, he'd say, they should take it like a girl would from her husband. So when Corrigan settles behind them, his beautiful powerful terrifying body pressed flush against their own, Kurt doesn't flinch. They do as they're told, slowly sipping cool rain water from the bowl he'd handed them, a little at a time, trying not to fret.
If the only thing keeping them from potentially being punished by the beastly jaws of their wolf mate, Kurt will do whatever he says. They will obey without question. They were always good at surviving.
"U-Um... I'm not sure," they wheeze, frowning softly, trying to decide what hurts the most through the roar of blood rushing in their ears. It's okay. Don't fret. If you just do what you're told, if you just obey, you'll be fine. He won't hurt you... unless you mess up. Kurt shifts a little in their seat, hissing at the sharp burn between their legs. For having been manhandled so much and bitten so deep mere inches from where their pulse throbs in their throat, it's actually their wifely duties that has left them the most sore. Off to a great start.
"I think... d-down there." The little human blushes scarlet at their admission, ashamed at their own weakness. Deep breaths. Small sips at a time. It'll be okay. Just obey.
The blushing is -- sweet. Considering that less than 12 hours ago, Kurt had been shamelessly begging to be fucked harder and deeper and more, the fact that they're red-faced about the topic is amusing. Or it would be, if Corrigan weren't distracted by the frenetic pounding of their heart, the thrum of blood in their veins. Their voice is soft, respectful, they aren't flinching away from his touch, but their whole body is on high alert. The Alpha can't make sense of it -- there's no threat he can sense, nowhere in the cabin or the woods surrounding. Everything is safe, calm.
So why is his mate acting like a cornered rabbit, seconds from having their throat torn out? More than that, why are they trying to hide that fear from him? Had something made them afraid of being honest? Had one of the pups said something careless? It doesn't make sense to Corrigan, with his admittedly limited experience with humans. What is Kurt so scared of?
Wolves aren't subtle creatures -- every emotion is telegraphed through a myriad of body language cues, annoyance and delight as evident as if it were spelled out. Even now, puzzling over the cause of Kurt's fear, Corrigan’s expression is stormy, a low rumble of annoyance building in his chest. If there were a cause, he could solve the problem -- he'd chase it away, beat it into submission. But he doesn't understand.
Still, the admittance of where they hurt gives him enough to work with. Corrigan carefully moves away, though he pushes the furs into a secure lump for Kurt to lean against, and ensures their shaky hands have a firm grip on the water. "That makes sense," he offers -- because it does, they're very small, the wolves are very big. Of course there's some discomfort. A thought occurs to him as he's digging out powdered something-or-other from the messy cupboards, and he tilts his head at Kurt. "Had you never...was that your first time?"
Now that he looks back, it's blatantly obvious what the answer is, but at the time Corrigan had been...a little distracted, to say the least.
Wolves may not be subtle creatures, but Corrigan is still doing a good job of hiding his frustration from Kurt, all things considered. He's gentle with them, affirming their line of thought, making sure they're comfortable as he gets up to find something for their pains. There's nothing he's really doing that should make Kurt fear for their safety.
Except they can tell he's not pleased. They don't know what or how or why–maybe the way his face furrows against their neck, maybe the first rumblings of a growl in his chest, maybe the claiming bites that connect them are messing with their head—but they know for a fact Corrigan is upset about something. It must be them. They're not compliant enough, not eager enough, not happy enough in their role as his mate. Yesterday, they'd been falling over themself to please and serve him, they'd been so grateful to him for claiming them. Of course he'd be upset with their sudden shift. He wouldn't understand why they're afraid.
So they try to pull themself together, shifting in the furs to get more comfortable, sucking down deep calming breaths. They have to make a good impression, endear themself to Corrigan before they give him a reason to really get upset. Even though his question makes them blush even harder, Kurt just has to swallow their embarrassment and nod softly, meeting his gaze, trying to get back to that fearless place they found themself in yesterday.
"Yes, I... Y-You were my first, Alpha." Maybe he'll like that. Men like that, don't they? Being with virgins? Kurt offers a wobbly smile, clearly embarrassed and aching, but really needing the approval of their mate. "It was th-the best first time I could've ever dreamed of. You made me feel really good, all of you... I-I'm sure I'll get used to it fast, Alpha, you won't have to take care of me like this every time, d-don't worry." They hope. God, they hope.
Is that it? Are they simply embarrassed about a perceived lack of experience? Corrigan can feel in his bones that it's more, that there's something huge and dark and all-encompassing behind that shaky little smile. He can sense it like he'd been able to sense Miles's impending treachery -- something dangerous threatening his pack. Not from Kurt (never, they'd never hurt any of the wolves, he knows that just as bone-deep), but still something they carry, hidden with compliant words and a forced smile. Miles, at least, could be physically attacked and chased away.
Corrigan doesn't know what to do with something invisible, something that haunts every move his mate makes.
So he focuses on what he can do -- grabbing the powdered whatsit (helpfully labeled with a smiling face, since Naseer knows his alpha doesn't do great with written words) and a salve made from the same plant, then crossing back to the couch. The powdered remedy is mixed into the stew, the salve opened and scooped carefully into one hand, rubbed between Corrigan’s big palms to warm it.
"Kurt," he begins, nudging their long thick braid to one side so he can slowly spread the salve over the bite marks -- both those of claiming and those of frenetic passion. "I have been waiting my entire life to be able to take care of you. It's not a burden. It's my pleasure." Then he nods towards the stew. "You should eat. Tell me if it's too hot."
His kind words and gentle, soothing touch does help ease Kurt's nerves bit by bit. The salve makes their skin tingle. It smells like potent herbs, earthy and sharp and warm. Healing, just like his touch. When they look up at Corrigan, they see a huge and powerful creature whose strength is truly intimidating. But they also see a man who, despite the concerned furrow of his brow, seems to be telling the truth.
He really wants to take care of them. He wouldn't hurt them over nothing. Kurt tries to settle into that thought, to really believe it, letting themself relax under his gentle touch. They really aren't a burden for being hurt. Good.
They just have to be careful to stay that way. To not become a burden in other ways.
"Th-Thank you," they say, growing calmer by the minute. They bring the rough-hewn bowl to their lips, the grassy scent of the herbal powder in their stew enveloping them as they eat, little mouthfuls at a time. It's really good. Being a pack mate is hungry work, turns out.
Speaking of. "Um... So what does a pack mate do?" they ask, still a little timid, like they feel silly for not knowing. Human relationships are probably way different from wolf ones. "I mean, wh-what are my duties here? My responsibilities? I— I wanna do it right."
If Corrigan had thought, even for a moment, that Kurt's effect on him would be less potent without the dizzying effects of rut, he definitely doesn't think that now. They blink up at him with those huge, bright eyes, a shade of blue he's only ever seen on the brightest summer days, in the deepest part of the sky, and Corrigan can feel the whole world shudder. Kurt could ask him anything, command him, plead him, and he'd do it. Anything. Everything.
An Alpha exists for their pack, to protect and guide and lead it, to give it their life, if need be. But from that exact second, Corrigan’s soul is held in the shaky hands of someone he's known for less than a day, someone who can't even conceive of the power they now have. It's a staggering, dizzying thing, and Corrigan actually has to glance away to collect himself for a moment.
"Mmmm, it depends," he begins, focusing on rubbing the salve into the wounds ringing Kurt's neck. He knows from experience that it'll tingle, then warm, replacing any lingering aches with a loose, relaxed feeling. The pack keeps a lot of it on hand, both for its healing properties and for more...frivolous pursuits. Speaking of, Corrigan waits until Kurt's paused in their eating, not wanting to jostle them while holding hot stew. Then he scoops them back on his lap, one hand behind their thigh, tugging it towards their chest, while his salve-slick hand slips down to stroke over their hole -- still warm and swollen to the touch, easily accepting the wolf's fingers inside.
Speaking like he hadn't suddenly started fingering them mid-conversatiob -- casual, calm, unhurried -- Corrigan continues: "You won't be expected to hunt or gather supplies, not unless you want to. Especially at the beginning, you'll stay close to the den, help keep it in order, maybe get Naseer to actually throw away some of the things he has hoarded in the attic." He chuckles fondly, like he doesn't have two fingers buried to the knuckle inside Kurt, moving in slow, soothing circles, rubbing the salve in. They had said "down there" hurt the most, right? He's helping!
He sweeps them into his lap so easily, like they weigh nothing at all, just as he had the day before. And sure, it's still frightening, intimidating to be bodily manipulated like this without the Alpha breaking a sweat, but at the same time, they're reminded of how gentle he is. Corrigan doesn't grab and yank and fling, he gingerly scoops them into his arms like something precious. It helps ease their anxious mind.
His finger inside also helps.
"A-Alpha—!" Kurt instinctively curls their arms inward, covering their naked chest, shivering and squeaking with pleasure as Corrigan fingers them. He's only applying an ointment to where they're most sore, most tender, but bizarrely, it doesn't hurt at all. Has their body really changed so much that any touch down there now only makes them feel good?
They whine softly as his fingers press deeper inside, moving in slow circles, making the human twitch and shudder. They have to concentrate a little to understand what he's saying. "S-So— So cooking and c-cleaning? I can do th-that," they manage between soft little moans. That scarlet blush travels down their bitten neck and shoulders. "I'm r-really good at— aah— a-at organizing cupboards..."
"Oh, I'm sure," Corrigan murmurs indulgently, hiding his smile against Kurt's neck. The rest of the pack will be indignant when they find out he hasn't simply been playing the devoted, doting caretaker with their new mate -- but being Alpha means he gets extra privileges, damn it. And sometimes those privileges mean getting to learn more about what makes Kurt shudder and squirm in pleasure, and produces those sweet, needy sounds from their pretty marked-up throat.
"You've already proven more than adept at the other duties of a pack-mate," the wolfman purrs against Kurt's ear, coaxing them to lie back against him, to feel his warm, firm body against theirs, free hand gently moving their arms aside so he can trace the bitemarks left scattered across their chest. "Taking all five of us, one after the other -- it was a beautiful sight, little mate of mine. There's a reason I haven't let you out of my sight since."
His fingers keep moving, slow circles and curls deep inside Kurt, seeking out what movements make them shiver, which make them go relaxed and boneless against him, which prompt more tiny, whimpering sounds. And his voice is soft, coaxing, impossibly gentle: "Your duties are to please us, delight us, and to surrender yourself to us in return. To let us make you feel all the pleasure you've given, and much more beside. You're the heart of us, Kurt, never forget that. Our center. Our beloved." Granted, the words may not really strike home with the delicious distraction of Corrigan’s clever fingers -- not to mention the warm weight of his cock stirring against their thighs -- but hopefully it's still somewhat soothing.
Kurt has little choice but to lean back against Alpha when coaxed, feeling the entire length of his gorgeous body supporting their weight, his broad chest rumbling against their back with every filthy word he purrs. His touch is divine. They don't know if they were always this sensitive, or if Corrigan is just that good, or if the pleasure they feel is caused by some mating dynamic they can't understand. They suppose it doesn't matter. This is what seduced Kurt in the first place, this feeling.
This praise. Alpha moves their arms aside, exposing their tender, swelling, bitten chest to his touch, but Kurt just hurries to hide their face in their hands instead, bright red with pleasure and embarrassment both. He's so generous with his praise. A beautiful sight, he says, more than adept, their heart, their center, their beloved. For a young person who's only ever been belittled and scorned by the men in their life, getting to hear such heartfelt approval makes all their defenses melt away in an instant. They'll gladly risk his displeasure and punishments, they'll take it all, if he just makes them feel like this from time to time.
Kurt is not in their right mind when they're being pleasured, they're discovering. Or toyed with, which is what Corrigan is actually doing, playing with their steadily relaxing body with those curious, searching fingers, not letting up for even a moment. He could get them to agree to anything like this.
"Y-Yes, Alpha," they whine into their hands, gasping as they feel Corrigan growing hard against them. They're not far behind, cock twitching between their spread-open legs. "I will, I— I can do that, I c-can do that, I'll surrender. Alpha, p-please, I wanna be a g-good mate to you, I wanna please you with m-my body, please, wanna make you feel good always."
There's a soft chuckle, more of a tangible rumble than a sound, and Corrigan’s mouth against the mark on Kurt's neck -- his mark, his protection and claim, irreversible, unchanging. What has changed is his pace, so slow and unhurried, a sharp contrast to the previous days frenetic revelry. There's no rush this time, just the almost-gentle movements of his long fingers inside Kurt, coaxing and curling and spreading, over and over.
"So good," he breathes out, tongue hot on their salve-slick skin. "So needy and sweet and good for me." Corrigan mouths at the other marks, tracing the slight differences -- the jagged line of Leo's sharper canines, the perfect circle of Naseer's. His pack, their presence felt even when they're away, all of them tethered to this one magnificent, perfect, beautiful person. Time will tell just how deeply Kurt's been changed by these marks -- it's different every time.
But for now, Corrigan can feel the forming bonds, the invisible strings between each of the wolves and their mate, like a tug at the back of his heart. He gently pulls Kurt's hands away from their face, not wanting to muffle their sweet cries. "Louder, my little bird. Show me how good I make you feel. Call your pack home with that pretty voice, singing your pleasure."
Whatever's in that salve must be potent stuff, because Kurt has forgotten they were hurting. They only feel good between their legs now, their muscles are softening, relaxing from ingesting the powder, their bruises barely a whisper. And their collar of bite marks, with wounds so deep and feral and frightening, now just feels exquisite. They can feel their bond to Corrigan, to the pack, like a real tangible thing, like strings extending from their heart and reaching out in all directions, finding each wolf where they're hunting, playing, lazing in the sun.
Part of them knows it's impossible. The pack is scattered, too far from the cabin to ever hear their cries, to feel the shudders of pleasure rocking their body from Alpha's gentle fingers. But that's not the part of them that starts rocking their hips down against his big hand. That's not the part of them that does what they're told, crying their pleasure louder into the dusty little cabin.
"Alphaaa—!" He's not even inside them properly, and they already feel this good, just from being played with. Kurt whimpers tightly, keening with pleasure as they roll their hips to meet his fingers, long and thick and slick with tingling salve. He's going to make them come from this, all over themself. Maybe they'll get to take his cock, his knot again, maybe they'll get to take all of them again if they're good enough. "Please, p-please, Alpha, oh, please! W-Wanna please you, p-pleeease, I— please, w-want you inside!"
Not so impossible as Kurt may think -- the wolves are by no means psychic, so full-on mind reading isn't a possibility, but a pack is still linked in a way that transcends human understanding. Corrigan knows where his brothers are at all times -- can sense Kai chasing butterflies and Leo helping Naseer carry back their fresh kill, as Benji scouts ahead. And he knows they can sense him too, his mounting arousal, his teasing enjoyment of Kurt's pleading.
What's more, they can sense Kurt's pleasure, feeling it as if it was their own, every shiver, every moan, every sharp pang of desire. There are prickles of annoyance through the pack link, at the Alpha taking his enjoyment without the others present, but it's fully eclipsed by the other wolves' delight that their mate is happy and warm and fed and enjoying themselves. Corrigan isn't sure if Kurt can feel it yet, that subtle internal connection, the five wolves sending their happiness and warmth towards their little mate.
Even if they can, it may be entirely eclipsed by the immediate pleasure, especially when Corrigan reaches around to start stroking their cock, long, firm pulls of his warm hand, in time with the thrusts of his fingers, pushing them closer and closer to the edge. "My name, little bird, sweet mate," he purrs, wanting them to come at his touch, spill over his hand, wanting them sated and relaxed and blissful when the pack finally barges in the door. "Say my name as you come for me. Earn my knot inside you."
They're not sure what actually causes the explosive surge of joy going through them then, if it's solely their own emotion or truly some kind of pack link, their mates' emotions tangling with their own. It's such a foreign feeling for the little human, as foreign as pleasure and praise has been, that they can't confidently tell where it even comes from. But it feels like their own joy, a swelling rush of warmth in their core that fills out their entire being, erasing all their fear like it was never there in the first place.
Kurt will earn Alpha's knot. They will earn Alpha's praise, Alpha's love, they will do whatever they have to in order to feel like this forever. They will never ever give him a reason to be displeased with them for the rest of their life. "P-Please! Alpha! C-C-Corrigan!!" they wail, shuddering to pieces as they feel their climax mounting. His hand on their cock is huge and warm and slick with that tingling balm, and it takes no time at all for his slow gentle hands to push them over the edge.
They keep singing his name over and over again as they come, spilling all over his hand, their own stomach and chest, arching clean off Alpha's body before collapsing back against him in a sweaty, panting heap. The rapturous bliss that spreads through them then is half their own, half the pack's, but Kurt is too caught up in sensation to realize. "C-Corrigan... Alpha, oh, th-that was..."
Not nearly enough. They were promised his knot. They earned it, right?
Corrigan is already learning the best ways to coax Kurt through a climax, how to push them that little bit farther, until the fraying edge of pleasurepain blurs entirely, until their thighs are shaking and their toes are curling from how much it all is. Part of him would be content to make a lifelong study of that exact science, toying with his little mate until he's an expert with every inch of them.
But another part is still cautious, remembering the fear of minutes before. It's all been blotted out in the blinding flash of pure pleasure, yet the aftertaste lingers in his mind. So he doesn't push too far, absently licking Kurt's come from his hand, then kissing the side of their neck. "Greedy little bird," he accuses lightly, working his fingers free, then rising to go open the front door. He's half-hard, but the pack is an insistent, pawing mass rapidly approaching the cabin, and what kind of alpha would he be if he didn't help bring in the kill?
So he leaves them panting in the furs, worked up and not nearly sated, pleasured and frustrated all at once. Like he'd done it on purpose.
...he totally did it on purpose. It's evident in the way Corrigan smirks as he opens the door and let's the four eager, bloody, panting wolves inside, all of them making a beeline for Kurt. One of them -- big, silvery, Leo -- sniffs the air, then fixes the alpha with an accusing glare. No fair, he got to play while they all worked hard!
Kurt whines as they're deposited into the furs, breathless and sweaty and sticky with come and herbal ointments. As delicious as their climax had been, as good as it had felt to come by Alpha's hands, they're left feeling... empty. Oddly, profoundly empty. It's a strange sensation to immediately follow pleasure like that, but that's the only way they can describe it. Are they really just that greedy? So insatiable for cock that, even seconds after coming, they want to go again?
Perhaps. But it's more than that too. They had done just as Alpha asked, and yet they hadn't earned his knot. Was it not good enough? Did they not do it right? Did their pleasure not please him? They don't sense any malice in his words, his touch, but the approval they so desperately wanted from him doesn't come either. It's frustrating, yes, their body still wants to take his knot so badly, but they also feel their stomach drop just as it had when they woke up, their heart clenching.
Not good enough. They have to work harder. Do better. Prove to Corrigan that they're worthy of keeping around, of being their mate.
The sudden rush of wolves to their side both soothes and overwhelms them, distracting them from what was sure to be a plummeting anxious thought spiral. Kai and Benji both rush over to lave their skin with kisses, swiping their bloody tongues over their face and quivering thighs, making Kurt cringe and whine. "P-Please," they murmur softly, absently petting at Benji's neck, his fur damp with blood and morning dew.
"Give them space," Naseer says sternly, having shimmered out of his wolf form as soon as he smelled the confusing cocktail of pleasure and dismay. "You're crowding them. Let them breathe." Shooing the younger wolves away, the beta kneels in front of his little mate, gingerly brushing their hair out of their glassy eyes. They look beautiful like this, but something feels... wrong. He glances up at his Alpha, questioning. Did something happen while they were away?
Corrigan’s expression is somewhat indignant, at the barest suggestion that he'd ever do something to upset Kurt. But he can smell it too, that odd mixture of anxiety and bliss, an echo of the fear his mate had felt upon first awakening. It's less than it had been, but the fact of it's presence still has him rumbling unhappily, even as he grabs a couple of the torn cloths the pack uses to clean.
"You've got blood on your nose, 'seer," he murmurs, reaching out to gently dab some of it away, then turning his attention back to Kurt. The other cloth goes towards wiping the smudges of deer blood off their shivery thighs, along with the sticky residual salve. "They were in pain when they woke up," he says in an undertone, the confession one he doesn't want to worry the rest of the pack with. But his Beta understands, will know what to do.
Kneeling down in front of Kurt, a subordinate position that immediately gets the rest of the pack's respectful silence, Corrigan meets their glassy eyes, his own alight with concern. "Are you still hurting? We have other remedies, if need be. More than enough." His hand rests on their thigh, smoothing back and forth over a bruise -- a vivid, fresh one, one the pack had left. "Tell me what's wrong and we'll fix it."
Naseer does understand. Without a word, he nods and rises to his feet, ignoring the inevitable stirrings of arousal from breathing in his mate's scent so he can focus on helping. Corrigan may joke about his hoarding tendencies, but it's always good to have a surplus on hand, especially of healing plants. After such a grueling first time, Kurt was sure to need it.
Corrigan has already helped himself to the nettle remedies, which no doubt have eased the human's pains. At least, their physical pains. Because Naseer suspects that the distress he can smell clinging to their skin goes deeper than merely sore muscles and bruises. They're afraid. It makes his hackles rise, but he fights it down, his Alpha needing him to stay calm. He wordlessly picks out ashwagandha roots for the human to chew on, knowing from experience how well they calm your nerves. He may need one of his own.
Kurt, for their part, whimpers softly and shakes their head, slowly pushing themself up to sit. They feel awful, shamefully noting that the mood has shifted from playful and heated to concerned. They don't want to worry anyone. They don't want to be a burden.
"I-I'm okay, Alpha, please don't worry, I'm sorry," they manage once they're upright, truthfully not feeling the aches and pains anymore. "I'm not hurting, I p-promise. I just..." Kurt hesitates, seeking his gaze, unsure of how to say this. "I j-just want to make you happy, Alpha. That's all. I want t-to please you, and..." I'm afraid I didn't.
The other wolves linger nearby, hackles raised, tails cricked in concern, until a glance from Corrigan prompts them to slink out the open door. There's the almost-inaudible sound of shimmering back to humanoid form, then Kai says something about "See if you can actually help break down a buck this time, pup," which is immediately followed by Leo's laughter and Benji's indignant protests. The shed used for smoking and preparing meat is close, but far enough away to give some privacy to Kurt and the pack leaders. For once Kai is being helpful, and Corrigan is silently grateful.
Because Kurt is softly trying to explain themselves, those bright eyes lifting to meet his, with a fear in them that Corrigan doesn't know. He knows hunger, cold, exhaustion. He knows the betrayal of someone he considered a brother turning on him, the sting of that traitors teeth in his shoulder. But he doesn't recognize the cautious, tentative terror that he's learning Kurt wears like a second skin. He's never felt fear like that.
But the stammering, hesitant explanation is enough for him to put the pieces together, shoulders going slack in relief and shame mixed. It's not a physical pain, then, just him being thoughtless, teasing words that Kurt took to heart and fretted over, even amidst their pleasure. It must be an overwhelming compulsion, then, if it drowns out everything else -- a need to obey, to perform, to please, or else.
Or else what, Corrigan doesn't even want to consider.
"Kurt," he begins, hands reaching out for the smaller, fretful ones of his mate, curling around them. "Your very existence pleases me. Everything you do is my delight, my reason for living. You can't help but please me." There's an attempt at smile, albeit one tinged with sadness. "I should spend more time making sure you know that, and less time teasing you."
Then, over at Naseer, reaching out to take the cup filled with hot water and ashwaganda -- "And yes, Beta, you accurately predicted I'd be a dumbass within the first day, are you happy?"
"Very." Naseer's affect is flat and matter of fact, but there's no hiding the curl of smug satisfaction reaching through the pack link, touching even Kurt. No one knows Corrigan like Naseer does. Of course he was going to be a dumbass within the first day, you didn't need the Beta to tell you that.
But he hadn't predicted Kurt's fear. He'd—rightfully—assumed the Alpha would throw all his brash swagger around and say something thoughtless while swinging his dick, scandalizing or wounding the fragile little human. But it seems Kurt was already afraid, anxious about something or other, likely how they could possibly live up to the pack's lofty expectations. It's a lot of pressure to put on a stranger so young, so innocent and virginal, suddenly thrust into a life they have no hope of understanding without first living it.
Thankfully, Corrigan manages to pick up on this on his own. Naseer lets his Alpha take the cup of steeping tea, before fishing out a small root, softened in the hot water. "Here," he says softly, holding it to Kurt's lips. He doesn't want to make them release Corrigan's hands. "For chewing. To calm your heart." Kurt whimpers softly, but ultimately lets Naseer ease the root into their mouth and slowly starts chewing. It's bitter and earthy and leathery, making their face scrunch up, but they trust in the pack's medicines. All of their aches are gone, after all.
While they chew, they mull over Corrigan's words. He seems genuine, it's not that, it's just... of course he'd say that. Of course he'd say Kurt couldn't possibly displease him, that them being in his life makes it worth living, but will he say the same when they mess up a meal? When they break something? When they don't satisfy his desires anymore? Men punish their spouses over the smallest little thing sometimes, all while proclaiming how much they love them. How could Kurt ever be sure?
But... his touch still feels so good. His words still spark hopeful fires within them. He hasn't hurt them for this stumble, this moment of fear and doubt. That's something, right? "You... I-I'm sorry, Alpha, I didn't mean to... Um, th-thank you for saying that," they finally settle on, feeling their eyes starting to burn a little, their throat closing up. "Y-You're very kind. I don't want to be a b-burden to you, a-any of you."
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"You will?" They blush a little at the thought, awestruck that the pack would change up their habitat so drastically just for them. Like they really are one of them. A proper member of the pack. It makes their full stomach do giddy little flips, heart beating faster where it's pressed against Corrigan's. "I'd l-like that. Thank you so much..."
From within the veritable pile of wolves surrounding them on all sides, covering their bare skin with soft fur and body heat, Kurt sees poor Benji pacing anxiously, radiating misery. He's really this worried about them? It feels surreal, having someone cherish them so much he'd worry himself sick over them, let alone having five. Swallowing down the sudden swell of emotion, Kurt reaches out for the youngest wolf, fingers curling invitingly, a sleepy smile on their face.
"Hey, i-it's okay, Benji. You don't have to worry so much. C'mere, baby, it's okay," they gently call, ready to pet his sweet little face once he gets close. Kurt doesn't even realize they're being tested. They just want to pet their fretful mate, reassure him that they won't freeze to death in the night. "See? I'm completely fine. M-More than fine. Everyone's keeping me so warm and safe, r-right? It's okay, puppy, you can relax. That's a g-good puppy..."
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But Kurt...Kurt reaches out one sleepy hand, and Benji doesn't even hesitate. He moves forward immediately, anxious and loving and whining soft, clear notes of adoration, bumping his sleek head up under their hand and licking at their palm. Kurt isn't human, enemy, dangerous, they're nate, beloved, cherished, they're those soft, sweet words and the comforting caress of long fingers through his fur. They make every bit of him, wolf and man and all that's in between sing with joy, a delight that starts with him nuzzling and mouthing at their hand and ends with his tail wagging so hard that he smacks Kai with it and earns a perturbed grumble.
Corrigan huffs out a laugh as Benji attempts to crawl up onto his lap, wanting to get even closer to Kurt, wanting to cover them with his not-at-all-small form. "All right, all right, hold on," he chuckles, gently pushing the pup away with his foot, then squeezing Kurt tight once more. "I'll be right back, beloved, don't fret," he murmurs against their forehead, before carefully disentangling himself from their embrace. His knot slips free, and Kai eagerly drags his long, hot tongue up the backs of Kurt's thighs, earning a reproachful growl from Naseer. They're supposed to be letting them rest, not getting all riled up again.
For his part, Corrigan is crossing to the fire, scooping some of the rich, meaty stew into a rough bowl, then setting it to one side. This last task done, he rolls his shoulders back a couple times, then shimmers into his own wolf form -- half again as big as even Kai, inky-black and majestic and every inch the Alpha. Gathered around Kurt, the other wolves wag their tails and nuzzle at Corrigan as he returns to the furs, all eager to be close to him, all shifting around to let him curl up closest to their mate once more. The massive, graceful wolf nudges gently at the human's hand, twitching his tail expectantly. He wants some of those ear-scratches too, please.
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The pack might find they have their work cut out for them, keeping their needy little mate satisfied.
When Alpha returns, cutely demanding ear scratches, Kurt giggles bright and loud, both hands finding his long, sleek face. "You really are beautiful," they murmur, gently scritching the hollows of his ears, watching how even Alpha's tail starts wagging with delight. "A-All of you are. I was so scared at first, I just... I c-can't believe how lucky I am."
Settling back down into the pile of furs and wolves, Kurt eases Corrigan down with them, wanting to curl up close to him as they drift off to sleep. They can really feel it now, the exhaustion, heavy in their bones. They rest their forehead against Corrigan's long muzzle for a moment, eyes closed in gratitude and reverence, a soft "Thank you," escaping them before they can stop themself. Then they curl up against him, within their pile of mates, drifting off to sleep with a serene smile on their face.
Naseer's eyes catch Corrigan's then, crinkling at the corners in a wolfish smile. He's never loved his brother more than he does in this moment. No one on this earth is more fit to be their mate than Kurt is, and he just... knew they would be there. That they would want this. It's nothing short of a miracle.
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But for this morning, Corrigan simply allows himself the domestic comfort of sleeping in a bit, shimmering back to his humanoid form so he can wrap his arms around Kurt and pull them close, kissing at the back of their neck. The birds outside are near-deafening, and there's a low grumble in the alpha’s stomach that finally prompts him to sit up. If he's hungry, Kurt must be starving. The stew is still warm, resting over the low coals of the fire, and Corrigan scoops some into a bowl, fetching another one of water from the rain barrel, then setting both near the couch.
Then, softening, he reaches out to stroke a loose wave of hair out of Kurt's sleeping face. "Wake up, little one," he murmurs, fingers gentle down the shape of their cheek.
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Another sensation hits them then, as they realize yesterday wasn't a wild fever dream after all. Corrigan. The pack. The claiming. Kurt is still too sleepy, too groggy—and in too much pain—to jerk upright in fear, but they still feel their gut plummeting, a wash of cold sweat prickling on their naked skin once it all dawns on them.
They're bonded to them now. All five of them. Claimed for life, like a marriage pact. This is their home now, with the pack, forever. And while that thought had brought them so much comfort and hope and purpose yesterday, today they're struck by the reality of their situation. What marriage actually entails.
"A-Alpha?" they croak out, shocked at how hoarse and small their voice is. Hours of dehydration and screaming and taking a beast cock down their throat really did a number on them. It hurts. But they can't bear the thought of how bad it will hurt if they don't hurry and live up to the pack's expectations. They clear their throat, slowly sitting up, blearily looking around the dusty little cabin. "Um... Wh-Where is everyone?"
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He's a little inconsolable himself, but he hides it well, arm immediately going out to support Kurt’s upper back, strong and warm and immovable. "Easy, go slowly," he murmurs, reaching for the water bowl first and bringing it to Kurt's lips. "Sip, little at a time," he prompts, moving around to sit behind the small human, supporting them with his body. "The pack's out on a hunt, they'll be back soon. Don't fret."
Their heart is still beating far too fast, and Corrigan resists the urge to demand why. His mark is on their neck, vivid and angry-red, but undeniable -- they're his, nothing and nobody can hurt them. Why does he still smell fear on them? Instead he simply let's himself assume it's due to the pain, the after effects of a truly raucous claiming. Pain heals, as do wounds. No reason for him to get worked up.
Pressing his lips to the mark, Corrigan resists the urge to turn back into a wolf and clean the wounds again and again, until that tight, pained note leaves Kurt's hoarse voice. Instead, gently: "Tell me what hurts the most. Naseer's been stocking up on remedies for weeks now, we have more than enough."
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Father doesn't like it when they flinch away. They are to take his punishments standing tall and straight, to face the consequences of their actions like any other decent human. If they want to act like a girl, he'd say, they should take it like a girl would from her husband. So when Corrigan settles behind them, his beautiful powerful terrifying body pressed flush against their own, Kurt doesn't flinch. They do as they're told, slowly sipping cool rain water from the bowl he'd handed them, a little at a time, trying not to fret.
If the only thing keeping them from potentially being punished by the beastly jaws of their wolf mate, Kurt will do whatever he says. They will obey without question. They were always good at surviving.
"U-Um... I'm not sure," they wheeze, frowning softly, trying to decide what hurts the most through the roar of blood rushing in their ears. It's okay. Don't fret. If you just do what you're told, if you just obey, you'll be fine. He won't hurt you... unless you mess up. Kurt shifts a little in their seat, hissing at the sharp burn between their legs. For having been manhandled so much and bitten so deep mere inches from where their pulse throbs in their throat, it's actually their wifely duties that has left them the most sore. Off to a great start.
"I think... d-down there." The little human blushes scarlet at their admission, ashamed at their own weakness. Deep breaths. Small sips at a time. It'll be okay. Just obey.
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So why is his mate acting like a cornered rabbit, seconds from having their throat torn out? More than that, why are they trying to hide that fear from him? Had something made them afraid of being honest? Had one of the pups said something careless? It doesn't make sense to Corrigan, with his admittedly limited experience with humans. What is Kurt so scared of?
Wolves aren't subtle creatures -- every emotion is telegraphed through a myriad of body language cues, annoyance and delight as evident as if it were spelled out. Even now, puzzling over the cause of Kurt's fear, Corrigan’s expression is stormy, a low rumble of annoyance building in his chest. If there were a cause, he could solve the problem -- he'd chase it away, beat it into submission. But he doesn't understand.
Still, the admittance of where they hurt gives him enough to work with. Corrigan carefully moves away, though he pushes the furs into a secure lump for Kurt to lean against, and ensures their shaky hands have a firm grip on the water. "That makes sense," he offers -- because it does, they're very small, the wolves are very big. Of course there's some discomfort. A thought occurs to him as he's digging out powdered something-or-other from the messy cupboards, and he tilts his head at Kurt. "Had you never...was that your first time?"
Now that he looks back, it's blatantly obvious what the answer is, but at the time Corrigan had been...a little distracted, to say the least.
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Except they can tell he's not pleased. They don't know what or how or why–maybe the way his face furrows against their neck, maybe the first rumblings of a growl in his chest, maybe the claiming bites that connect them are messing with their head—but they know for a fact Corrigan is upset about something. It must be them. They're not compliant enough, not eager enough, not happy enough in their role as his mate. Yesterday, they'd been falling over themself to please and serve him, they'd been so grateful to him for claiming them. Of course he'd be upset with their sudden shift. He wouldn't understand why they're afraid.
So they try to pull themself together, shifting in the furs to get more comfortable, sucking down deep calming breaths. They have to make a good impression, endear themself to Corrigan before they give him a reason to really get upset. Even though his question makes them blush even harder, Kurt just has to swallow their embarrassment and nod softly, meeting his gaze, trying to get back to that fearless place they found themself in yesterday.
"Yes, I... Y-You were my first, Alpha." Maybe he'll like that. Men like that, don't they? Being with virgins? Kurt offers a wobbly smile, clearly embarrassed and aching, but really needing the approval of their mate. "It was th-the best first time I could've ever dreamed of. You made me feel really good, all of you... I-I'm sure I'll get used to it fast, Alpha, you won't have to take care of me like this every time, d-don't worry." They hope. God, they hope.
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Corrigan doesn't know what to do with something invisible, something that haunts every move his mate makes.
So he focuses on what he can do -- grabbing the powdered whatsit (helpfully labeled with a smiling face, since Naseer knows his alpha doesn't do great with written words) and a salve made from the same plant, then crossing back to the couch. The powdered remedy is mixed into the stew, the salve opened and scooped carefully into one hand, rubbed between Corrigan’s big palms to warm it.
"Kurt," he begins, nudging their long thick braid to one side so he can slowly spread the salve over the bite marks -- both those of claiming and those of frenetic passion. "I have been waiting my entire life to be able to take care of you. It's not a burden. It's my pleasure." Then he nods towards the stew. "You should eat. Tell me if it's too hot."
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He really wants to take care of them. He wouldn't hurt them over nothing. Kurt tries to settle into that thought, to really believe it, letting themself relax under his gentle touch. They really aren't a burden for being hurt. Good.
They just have to be careful to stay that way. To not become a burden in other ways.
"Th-Thank you," they say, growing calmer by the minute. They bring the rough-hewn bowl to their lips, the grassy scent of the herbal powder in their stew enveloping them as they eat, little mouthfuls at a time. It's really good. Being a pack mate is hungry work, turns out.
Speaking of. "Um... So what does a pack mate do?" they ask, still a little timid, like they feel silly for not knowing. Human relationships are probably way different from wolf ones. "I mean, wh-what are my duties here? My responsibilities? I— I wanna do it right."
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An Alpha exists for their pack, to protect and guide and lead it, to give it their life, if need be. But from that exact second, Corrigan’s soul is held in the shaky hands of someone he's known for less than a day, someone who can't even conceive of the power they now have. It's a staggering, dizzying thing, and Corrigan actually has to glance away to collect himself for a moment.
"Mmmm, it depends," he begins, focusing on rubbing the salve into the wounds ringing Kurt's neck. He knows from experience that it'll tingle, then warm, replacing any lingering aches with a loose, relaxed feeling. The pack keeps a lot of it on hand, both for its healing properties and for more...frivolous pursuits. Speaking of, Corrigan waits until Kurt's paused in their eating, not wanting to jostle them while holding hot stew. Then he scoops them back on his lap, one hand behind their thigh, tugging it towards their chest, while his salve-slick hand slips down to stroke over their hole -- still warm and swollen to the touch, easily accepting the wolf's fingers inside.
Speaking like he hadn't suddenly started fingering them mid-conversatiob -- casual, calm, unhurried -- Corrigan continues: "You won't be expected to hunt or gather supplies, not unless you want to. Especially at the beginning, you'll stay close to the den, help keep it in order, maybe get Naseer to actually throw away some of the things he has hoarded in the attic." He chuckles fondly, like he doesn't have two fingers buried to the knuckle inside Kurt, moving in slow, soothing circles, rubbing the salve in. They had said "down there" hurt the most, right? He's helping!
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His finger inside also helps.
"A-Alpha—!" Kurt instinctively curls their arms inward, covering their naked chest, shivering and squeaking with pleasure as Corrigan fingers them. He's only applying an ointment to where they're most sore, most tender, but bizarrely, it doesn't hurt at all. Has their body really changed so much that any touch down there now only makes them feel good?
They whine softly as his fingers press deeper inside, moving in slow circles, making the human twitch and shudder. They have to concentrate a little to understand what he's saying. "S-So— So cooking and c-cleaning? I can do th-that," they manage between soft little moans. That scarlet blush travels down their bitten neck and shoulders. "I'm r-really good at— aah— a-at organizing cupboards..."
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"You've already proven more than adept at the other duties of a pack-mate," the wolfman purrs against Kurt's ear, coaxing them to lie back against him, to feel his warm, firm body against theirs, free hand gently moving their arms aside so he can trace the bitemarks left scattered across their chest. "Taking all five of us, one after the other -- it was a beautiful sight, little mate of mine. There's a reason I haven't let you out of my sight since."
His fingers keep moving, slow circles and curls deep inside Kurt, seeking out what movements make them shiver, which make them go relaxed and boneless against him, which prompt more tiny, whimpering sounds. And his voice is soft, coaxing, impossibly gentle: "Your duties are to please us, delight us, and to surrender yourself to us in return. To let us make you feel all the pleasure you've given, and much more beside. You're the heart of us, Kurt, never forget that. Our center. Our beloved." Granted, the words may not really strike home with the delicious distraction of Corrigan’s clever fingers -- not to mention the warm weight of his cock stirring against their thighs -- but hopefully it's still somewhat soothing.
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This praise. Alpha moves their arms aside, exposing their tender, swelling, bitten chest to his touch, but Kurt just hurries to hide their face in their hands instead, bright red with pleasure and embarrassment both. He's so generous with his praise. A beautiful sight, he says, more than adept, their heart, their center, their beloved. For a young person who's only ever been belittled and scorned by the men in their life, getting to hear such heartfelt approval makes all their defenses melt away in an instant. They'll gladly risk his displeasure and punishments, they'll take it all, if he just makes them feel like this from time to time.
Kurt is not in their right mind when they're being pleasured, they're discovering. Or toyed with, which is what Corrigan is actually doing, playing with their steadily relaxing body with those curious, searching fingers, not letting up for even a moment. He could get them to agree to anything like this.
"Y-Yes, Alpha," they whine into their hands, gasping as they feel Corrigan growing hard against them. They're not far behind, cock twitching between their spread-open legs. "I will, I— I can do that, I c-can do that, I'll surrender. Alpha, p-please, I wanna be a g-good mate to you, I wanna please you with m-my body, please, wanna make you feel good always."
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"So good," he breathes out, tongue hot on their salve-slick skin. "So needy and sweet and good for me." Corrigan mouths at the other marks, tracing the slight differences -- the jagged line of Leo's sharper canines, the perfect circle of Naseer's. His pack, their presence felt even when they're away, all of them tethered to this one magnificent, perfect, beautiful person. Time will tell just how deeply Kurt's been changed by these marks -- it's different every time.
But for now, Corrigan can feel the forming bonds, the invisible strings between each of the wolves and their mate, like a tug at the back of his heart. He gently pulls Kurt's hands away from their face, not wanting to muffle their sweet cries. "Louder, my little bird. Show me how good I make you feel. Call your pack home with that pretty voice, singing your pleasure."
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Part of them knows it's impossible. The pack is scattered, too far from the cabin to ever hear their cries, to feel the shudders of pleasure rocking their body from Alpha's gentle fingers. But that's not the part of them that starts rocking their hips down against his big hand. That's not the part of them that does what they're told, crying their pleasure louder into the dusty little cabin.
"Alphaaa—!" He's not even inside them properly, and they already feel this good, just from being played with. Kurt whimpers tightly, keening with pleasure as they roll their hips to meet his fingers, long and thick and slick with tingling salve. He's going to make them come from this, all over themself. Maybe they'll get to take his cock, his knot again, maybe they'll get to take all of them again if they're good enough. "Please, p-please, Alpha, oh, please! W-Wanna please you, p-pleeease, I— please, w-want you inside!"
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What's more, they can sense Kurt's pleasure, feeling it as if it was their own, every shiver, every moan, every sharp pang of desire. There are prickles of annoyance through the pack link, at the Alpha taking his enjoyment without the others present, but it's fully eclipsed by the other wolves' delight that their mate is happy and warm and fed and enjoying themselves. Corrigan isn't sure if Kurt can feel it yet, that subtle internal connection, the five wolves sending their happiness and warmth towards their little mate.
Even if they can, it may be entirely eclipsed by the immediate pleasure, especially when Corrigan reaches around to start stroking their cock, long, firm pulls of his warm hand, in time with the thrusts of his fingers, pushing them closer and closer to the edge. "My name, little bird, sweet mate," he purrs, wanting them to come at his touch, spill over his hand, wanting them sated and relaxed and blissful when the pack finally barges in the door. "Say my name as you come for me. Earn my knot inside you."
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Kurt will earn Alpha's knot. They will earn Alpha's praise, Alpha's love, they will do whatever they have to in order to feel like this forever. They will never ever give him a reason to be displeased with them for the rest of their life. "P-Please! Alpha! C-C-Corrigan!!" they wail, shuddering to pieces as they feel their climax mounting. His hand on their cock is huge and warm and slick with that tingling balm, and it takes no time at all for his slow gentle hands to push them over the edge.
They keep singing his name over and over again as they come, spilling all over his hand, their own stomach and chest, arching clean off Alpha's body before collapsing back against him in a sweaty, panting heap. The rapturous bliss that spreads through them then is half their own, half the pack's, but Kurt is too caught up in sensation to realize. "C-Corrigan... Alpha, oh, th-that was..."
Not nearly enough. They were promised his knot. They earned it, right?
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But another part is still cautious, remembering the fear of minutes before. It's all been blotted out in the blinding flash of pure pleasure, yet the aftertaste lingers in his mind. So he doesn't push too far, absently licking Kurt's come from his hand, then kissing the side of their neck. "Greedy little bird," he accuses lightly, working his fingers free, then rising to go open the front door. He's half-hard, but the pack is an insistent, pawing mass rapidly approaching the cabin, and what kind of alpha would he be if he didn't help bring in the kill?
So he leaves them panting in the furs, worked up and not nearly sated, pleasured and frustrated all at once. Like he'd done it on purpose.
...he totally did it on purpose. It's evident in the way Corrigan smirks as he opens the door and let's the four eager, bloody, panting wolves inside, all of them making a beeline for Kurt. One of them -- big, silvery, Leo -- sniffs the air, then fixes the alpha with an accusing glare. No fair, he got to play while they all worked hard!
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Perhaps. But it's more than that too. They had done just as Alpha asked, and yet they hadn't earned his knot. Was it not good enough? Did they not do it right? Did their pleasure not please him? They don't sense any malice in his words, his touch, but the approval they so desperately wanted from him doesn't come either. It's frustrating, yes, their body still wants to take his knot so badly, but they also feel their stomach drop just as it had when they woke up, their heart clenching.
Not good enough. They have to work harder. Do better. Prove to Corrigan that they're worthy of keeping around, of being their mate.
The sudden rush of wolves to their side both soothes and overwhelms them, distracting them from what was sure to be a plummeting anxious thought spiral. Kai and Benji both rush over to lave their skin with kisses, swiping their bloody tongues over their face and quivering thighs, making Kurt cringe and whine. "P-Please," they murmur softly, absently petting at Benji's neck, his fur damp with blood and morning dew.
"Give them space," Naseer says sternly, having shimmered out of his wolf form as soon as he smelled the confusing cocktail of pleasure and dismay. "You're crowding them. Let them breathe." Shooing the younger wolves away, the beta kneels in front of his little mate, gingerly brushing their hair out of their glassy eyes. They look beautiful like this, but something feels... wrong. He glances up at his Alpha, questioning. Did something happen while they were away?
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"You've got blood on your nose, 'seer," he murmurs, reaching out to gently dab some of it away, then turning his attention back to Kurt. The other cloth goes towards wiping the smudges of deer blood off their shivery thighs, along with the sticky residual salve. "They were in pain when they woke up," he says in an undertone, the confession one he doesn't want to worry the rest of the pack with. But his Beta understands, will know what to do.
Kneeling down in front of Kurt, a subordinate position that immediately gets the rest of the pack's respectful silence, Corrigan meets their glassy eyes, his own alight with concern. "Are you still hurting? We have other remedies, if need be. More than enough." His hand rests on their thigh, smoothing back and forth over a bruise -- a vivid, fresh one, one the pack had left. "Tell me what's wrong and we'll fix it."
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Corrigan has already helped himself to the nettle remedies, which no doubt have eased the human's pains. At least, their physical pains. Because Naseer suspects that the distress he can smell clinging to their skin goes deeper than merely sore muscles and bruises. They're afraid. It makes his hackles rise, but he fights it down, his Alpha needing him to stay calm. He wordlessly picks out ashwagandha roots for the human to chew on, knowing from experience how well they calm your nerves. He may need one of his own.
Kurt, for their part, whimpers softly and shakes their head, slowly pushing themself up to sit. They feel awful, shamefully noting that the mood has shifted from playful and heated to concerned. They don't want to worry anyone. They don't want to be a burden.
"I-I'm okay, Alpha, please don't worry, I'm sorry," they manage once they're upright, truthfully not feeling the aches and pains anymore. "I'm not hurting, I p-promise. I just..." Kurt hesitates, seeking his gaze, unsure of how to say this. "I j-just want to make you happy, Alpha. That's all. I want t-to please you, and..." I'm afraid I didn't.
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Because Kurt is softly trying to explain themselves, those bright eyes lifting to meet his, with a fear in them that Corrigan doesn't know. He knows hunger, cold, exhaustion. He knows the betrayal of someone he considered a brother turning on him, the sting of that traitors teeth in his shoulder. But he doesn't recognize the cautious, tentative terror that he's learning Kurt wears like a second skin. He's never felt fear like that.
But the stammering, hesitant explanation is enough for him to put the pieces together, shoulders going slack in relief and shame mixed. It's not a physical pain, then, just him being thoughtless, teasing words that Kurt took to heart and fretted over, even amidst their pleasure. It must be an overwhelming compulsion, then, if it drowns out everything else -- a need to obey, to perform, to please, or else.
Or else what, Corrigan doesn't even want to consider.
"Kurt," he begins, hands reaching out for the smaller, fretful ones of his mate, curling around them. "Your very existence pleases me. Everything you do is my delight, my reason for living. You can't help but please me." There's an attempt at smile, albeit one tinged with sadness. "I should spend more time making sure you know that, and less time teasing you."
Then, over at Naseer, reaching out to take the cup filled with hot water and ashwaganda -- "And yes, Beta, you accurately predicted I'd be a dumbass within the first day, are you happy?"
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But he hadn't predicted Kurt's fear. He'd—rightfully—assumed the Alpha would throw all his brash swagger around and say something thoughtless while swinging his dick, scandalizing or wounding the fragile little human. But it seems Kurt was already afraid, anxious about something or other, likely how they could possibly live up to the pack's lofty expectations. It's a lot of pressure to put on a stranger so young, so innocent and virginal, suddenly thrust into a life they have no hope of understanding without first living it.
Thankfully, Corrigan manages to pick up on this on his own. Naseer lets his Alpha take the cup of steeping tea, before fishing out a small root, softened in the hot water. "Here," he says softly, holding it to Kurt's lips. He doesn't want to make them release Corrigan's hands. "For chewing. To calm your heart." Kurt whimpers softly, but ultimately lets Naseer ease the root into their mouth and slowly starts chewing. It's bitter and earthy and leathery, making their face scrunch up, but they trust in the pack's medicines. All of their aches are gone, after all.
While they chew, they mull over Corrigan's words. He seems genuine, it's not that, it's just... of course he'd say that. Of course he'd say Kurt couldn't possibly displease him, that them being in his life makes it worth living, but will he say the same when they mess up a meal? When they break something? When they don't satisfy his desires anymore? Men punish their spouses over the smallest little thing sometimes, all while proclaiming how much they love them. How could Kurt ever be sure?
But... his touch still feels so good. His words still spark hopeful fires within them. He hasn't hurt them for this stumble, this moment of fear and doubt. That's something, right? "You... I-I'm sorry, Alpha, I didn't mean to... Um, th-thank you for saying that," they finally settle on, feeling their eyes starting to burn a little, their throat closing up. "Y-You're very kind. I don't want to be a b-burden to you, a-any of you."
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