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Something is deeply, truly wrong with Harrowhark.
Or at least something new is wrong with her.
Gideon has spent the past week watching, with mounting horror, as the strangeness escalates. She’s been…clumsy. Dropping plates, tripping on the carpet, bumping against the walls. Any perceived slights send her into a pique, shouting in frustration and storming away to hide in her room. She’s eaten everything Gideon’s cooked without hesitation, with nary a snide comment to be heard.
Harrow doesn’t fumble. She doesn’t yell and stomp. And she definitely doesn’t eat Gideon’s cooking like it’s her first meal in weeks.
It’s all she’s been able to think about lately. Which is pretty annoying, frankly, because Harrow already takes up so much of her brain space that Gideon should be charging her rent. And now all her weird shit is taking up more, making her worry. She didn’t even get a good workout in today because she was too busy thinking about whether or not her stupid roommate had finally left her room to eat the toast she left in the kitchen for her. She’s coming home early, from what is possibly her favorite place, because she’s stressed about poor Harrowhark’s digestive system.
Gideon swings open the front door with a loud I’m home, nunlet, and notices with a touch of alarm that the living room is exactly as messy as she left it this morning. A quick look into the kitchenette confirms her fear about the toast. Stupid Harrow and her stupid weirdness. She probably hasn’t left her room all day, staying in her dumb little crypt like the world’s scrawniest bear trying to break the world hibernation record. She heads down the hall, dumping her gym bag on her own bed before doubling back to Harrow’s room. Gideon knocks, because she isn’t a complete animal, but there’s no response. She tries again, using the side of her fist instead of her knuckles, and this time there’s a muffled sob from behind the door. A spike of anxiety goes through her, because Harrow doesn’t fucking cry, and without thinking she swings the door open.
The first thing that Gideon can notice entering the bedroom is the wave of scent that hits her. It almost makes her stumble with the sheer bitterness of it, like someone tried to make a lemon tart but used undiluted juice instead of zest. There was an acrid undertone to it too, burning her nostrils and clinging to the roof of her mouth. Fuck, Harrow must be feeling fucking awful to be making a scent like this.
Harrow is curled on her bed, half-hidden by the heap of blankets and pillows she’s surrounded by. Her arms shake as she props herself up, and there’s a worrying sheen to her skin. They lock eyes, and suddenly a new scent pumps through the room alongside the first. Something warm and sweet, and when Gideon smells it, her heart starts pounding.
It’s the smell of an omega in heat. Oh shit.
Her feet are moving before she even realizes it. She sits at the edge of Harrow’s bed, careful to stay outside the—the nest, shit—and gulps. The smell is so much stronger now. “Harrow, what the hell’s going on? I thought you were a beta.”
Now that she’s closer, Gideon can get a better look at the state she’s in. Harrow’s sweater has slid off her shoulders like it’s trying to meet the rucked-up skirt at her waistline, and the new skin that Gideon can see is flushed and waxy. The bags under her eyes are bigger and darker than she’s ever seen them. She’s sweating so hard it looks like she was thrown in a lake. Her pupils are blown out, her eyes glassy. She’s shaking like crazy.
Harrow needs help.
Without thinking twice, Gideon rips off her scent patches and lets herself fill the room. Harrow inhales deeply and slumps into her arms. She’s still sweaty and trembling, but at least she’s not on the verge of a breakdown. She is lightly drooling into the crook of Gideon’s neck, though.
“Hey. C’mon, stay with me here. Tell me why the hell you lied.”
A small gurgle comes from her, and then words. “Gr’ddle—easier—“
“This is easier than asking me to get a hotel room a few times a year? You looked like you were about to keel over. You’ve been a wreck the whole week! You need to take care of yourself. So what if that means you need to find someone to—“
“I can’t!” Harrow’s voice is so pitiful when she shouts, so at the end of her rope. Her hands squeeze at Gideon’s arm. “N-no one, no one else-“
Gideon’s brain stops in its tracks. “What…?”
Her cheek presses against her chest. “Don’t want—can’t have another, just you-“
She hugs her as tight as she can in response, cradling Harrow’s head in her hand. “Shh. Just…just relax a second, yeah? Get your bearings.”
There is another pitiful noise muffled by Gideon’s shirt, and then Harrow stills. They sit there together in silence for some time until Harrow lifts her head. She turns her face away. “…what I was attempting to say is that you’re the only alpha I don’t find completely nauseating.”
“Uh…thanks? I think?”
“And so, given the circumstances, I give you permission to…do as you will.”
She blinks.
A blush creeps up Harrow’s cheeks. “…you know what I mean, Griddle. I’m saying you’re free to—to mount me, or take me, or whatever it is you like to call it-“
A sudden burst of energy strikes Gideon, and she grabs her hard by the arms. “Harrowhark. I’m going to need you to stop the pretention for five seconds here. Are you asking me to fuck you?”
Her blush now threatens to spread down her chest. “Yes.”
The room is quiet for one moment. Then two. Then Gideon says, “Oh, finally,” and shoves Harrow down into the nest.
Harrow falls back without complaint, her legs falling open as Gideon crawls on top of her. Gideon tugs her clothes off, choosing to ignore the sound of seams popping in favor of finally getting a look at what she’s wanted for so long.
She’s just as gangly as she’d imagined, all of her fragile-looking without the protection of her frumpy clothes. Gideon notices, with no small amount of satisfaction, that there’s a noticeable softness to her stomach. She presses a hand to it. “You’ve really been loving my cooking, huh?”
Harrow flushes deeper and tries to hide her face in a blanket. “Don’t touch it if you’re going to insult me.”
“Aww, don’t hide. I’m not being mean.” She leans closer to whisper in Harrow’s ear. “To be honest, it kinda does something to me to know I’m that good a provider.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You can feel for yourself if you want.”
Harrow’s hands twitch against her shirt, and then one of them slowly trails down towards her belt. Gideon smiles and holds the trembling hand, helps guide it to the steadily growing tent in her pants. Harrow’s eyes widen. Gideon’s voice comes out like gravel into her ear. “Feel that, Harrowhark? It’s all for you.”
Harrow coos softly, a little noise from the back of her throat that’s pure omega, and Gideon feels her dick twitch. She pulls her hand away and begins to strip herself. “Fuck, you’ve got no idea what you do to me, huh?”
She looks up at her, slightly uneasy. “I know how pheromones work, there’s no need to deride me.”
She rolls her eyes and pushes Harrow further into the bed. “See, that proves it. I’m trying to tell you that I’ve wanted this for years, and you’re talking about pheromones.”
She ignores the stunned face of the girl below her and chooses instead to make quick work of her sweats and boxers, sighing in relief as her dick springs free of its confines. She watches in smug satisfaction as Harrow’s pupils somehow blow out even more at the sight. She squeezes the base, where her knot would swell soon enough. “What, haven’t seen one this big before?”
Harrow flushes and looks away. “Unlike you, I haven’t made a habit of gawking at people’s genitalia.”
She smirks. “That your way of telling me you don’t watch porn? What do you even do during heats? Stew in your own misery?” She pauses. “…on second thought, you probably do.”
There’s a grumpy little noise from Harrow that gets cut off quickly when Gideon’s hand cups her cunt through her underwear. Her dick twitches as she feels just how soaked she is, how the worn cotton fabric is truly drenched in slick. She rubs Harrow’s clit through them as she speaks again. “God, you’re so fucking excited for this.”
She grabs the waistline of the panties and pulls, ignoring the squawk from the other girl when it rips completely, leaving her bare. Gideon is greeted by the sight of flushed skin and slick-damp curls, and she is head over heels all over again. “So perfect, Harrow. You’re so perfect.”
She moves to lower herself, but is stopped by Harrow pressing her legs together with an indignant sound, followed quickly by a “Griddle, you can’t just-“
Gideon isn’t quite able to hold back the growl that pushes its way from her chest. “Harrowhark,” she says slowly, lets the words drip out like something melted and sticky, “If you try to keep me from the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen, I am going to scream, and then I’m just gonna eat it anyway.”
“It’s filthy,” Harrow mutters, even as her legs fall apart once more.
Gideon settles herself flat on her stomach so she can be eye-level with her prize. “What, you think I’m not? I can get way dirtier than this, baby, trust me. Just wait ‘til I can get a go at your ass.”
Her pretty girl starts to chastise her for being crude and base, but she doesn’t let her rant carry on; better things for her to lose her voice over right now, after all. Instead, she grabs hold of Harrow’s thighs and leans in, dragging her tongue slowly up her slit. She laughs a little — it’s mean of her, she knows, but she can’t help it — when Harrow’s back arches at the sensation. Gideon grins and wraps her lips around her clit, gently sucking as she pets her thighs. Her girl whines and gasps and twists, but Gideon holds her steady. She works her finger into her, and hums against her bud as she sets to working open soft, soaked walls. “Fuck,” she mutters, “You’re tight. I’ve got my work set out for me, huh?”
Harrow doesn’t provide her with a response beyond grinding herself against Gideon’s face and fingers. Fine by Gideon, who goes back to trying to stretch her girl enough to take her. She’s mindful to keep attention on Harrow’s clit, as well as the soft spots inside her that get her squirming. She works another finger in, and then another; certainly helps that her girl is so wet that there’s a stain on the sheets. In the meantime, she watches as Harrow clumsily gropes herself. She pants softly as her unpracticed hands squeeze at her tits. There’s a cute little furrow in her brow, because apparently to Harrow, feeling yourself up is something that requires dedicated attention. That’s the point where Gideon gets an idea and sits back up, leaving Harrow’s cunt with one last kiss. She leaves her fingers curled inside as she leans over her girl. She blinks up at Gideon. Harrow wiggles a little under her gaze, pretty lips parted and shining.
“Harrow,” she coos, delighting in how her voice makes the smaller girl shiver, “You’re feeling good, right?” Her girl whimpers and nods, hips twitching against her hand in the hopes of more friction against her clit. “Wanna make me feel good, too?” Harrow sucks in a little breath and looks down at Gideon’s cock. Her cunt clenches around her fingers as her teeth dig into her plush lower lip. Gideon snorts and presses her lips to her temple. “Not yet, baby. You’ll get it soon. But I meant something else.”
She leans back a little and draws her fingers out; that, of course, draws a truly agonized noise from Harrow in response, but Gideon pays it no mind. The fussing is over quickly, anyway, when Harrow sees her pull off her sports bra and her tits bounce free. She’s openly gawking, and it dawns on Gideon that she probably hasn’t seen her without some kind of compression top since she hit puberty. Grinning, she leans back further and jumps in place, making her chest jiggle. Harrow squeaks desperately underneath her. She can smell the fresh slick dripping from her and shivers, her cock kicking in response.
Gideon grabs one of Harrow’s hands and guides it to her chest, keeping her own hand over it and encouraging her to squeeze. “C’mon, Harrow. Make me feel good too, yeah?
Harrow shakily sits up, bringing her other hand to her tits as well. They spill out between her fingers, and Gideon watches with satisfaction as her jaw goes slack in fascination. Her hands are still clumsy, her thumbs slowly dragging over her nipples with a clear inexperience. Gideon gives her an encouraging chirr, and a small thrill goes through her at the way Harrow’s eyes go wide when she feels the rumble of it under her hands.
There’s a moment where Harrow goes still, the little furrow in her brow returning. Then, slowly, she lowers her head and fits her lips around her nipple. She gives an experimental suck, which Gideon rewards her for by reaching down and rubbing her clit. The resulting moan sends a quick zip of pleasure down her spine; her chest really isn’t that sensitive, but something about having Harrow like this adds to the sensation. She uses her free hand to cradle her head, lightly scratching at her scalp. It makes her go soft and relaxed in her arms as she continues, save for her hips twitching against her fingers. Sweet little moans leak out from the seal of her lips as the grinding intensifies, and Gideon realizes with a thrill that she must be getting close. Makes sense; she riled her up pretty bad with the oral. She slides the hand on her head a little lower and massages her scent gland. Harrow’s suckling loses rhythm as her cries hit a crescendo. Gideon feels a gush of slick run down her hand and wrist as her girl keens. She coos to her softly as she helps her ride out her climax, kissing at her slack jaw and damp hairline.
She keeps her voice low and soothing as she lays her back down. “Ready for the main course?” When Harrow — who, in her defense, has just had what Gideon fears was the first proper orgasm of her life — only stares glassily up at her, she holds back a snort and wraps a hand around her cock. Ignoring the little shiver of pleasure the touch provides, she continues. “You wanted me to fuck you, right?”
Gideon watches as Harrow, eyes unfocused and skin glistening, reaches down and takes a hold of the backs of her own thighs. She shifts awkwardly and then pulls, drawing her legs up and apart. It leaves her cunt on display, shining and flushed and heavenly. All she does is stare for a minute, which is apparently the wrong thing to do because it makes Harrow let out a nervous sound and hike her legs up farther, which makes Gideon’s head start to spin because oh god-
Harrow’s trying to present for her.
She fills the space between her thighs with a growl, holding herself up with a trembling arm. Her free hand stays on her length, making sure it lines up to Harrow’s dripping entrance. Her girl twists her head away, staring up at the ceiling as she clings to the bedding surrounding them. Yeah, that’s not gonna fly. Gideon takes hold of the back of her head, guides it forward until she’s facing down at the space between them. “Nah, babe. Watch, okay? This is the good part.”
She does her best to take it slow, which isn’t exactly easy with the way Harrow’s sucking her in. Tight, wet heat surrounds her as she sinks in deeper. Words bubble up in her throat, all sorts of filthy, embarrassing things she could use to make her girl squirm, but somehow they can’t quite make their way out. Instead—
“That’s it, baby. You see how good you’re taking me? Feels perfect.”
There’s a desperate little keen, and Gideon’s brain doesn’t know which one of them made it, but apparently her mouth does. “I know, I know, it’s a lot. Don’t worry, baby, I got you. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”
And her mouth is right. Yeah, yeah, she is going to take care of Harrow. She can feel narrow thighs trembling against her hips. Gideon thunks her forehead against hers as she bottoms out, looking at the smaller girl from barely a few inches away. Harrow’s eyes are wide, suddenly clear, gawking at the sight of her body swallowing Gideon’s. Her trembling intensifies. Her mouth moves almost imperceptibly. Gideon grins and nudges her cheek with her nose, snapping her attention away from their place of connection. Harrow grabs hold of her biceps, blunt bitten nails digging into the muscle. Gideon, never one to restrain herself, immediately flexes them and delights at how she feels her girl flutter around her. The heady feeling of control, of dominance over the indomitable Harrowhark, rushes through her like nothing else as she begins to rock her hips in slow, calculated circles. Harrow’s eyelids flutter.
“Feels good, huh?” She knows it does. Even if she couldn’t feel the way Harrow was clinging to her, Gideon knows that she’s good at this. Warmth floods her as she takes hold of her hips and pulls her into her thrusts. Her heart races in time to the snap of her hips and the punched-out noises Harrow makes whenever she drives herself home.
Harrow scrabbles for purchase on her arms, her hips, anything she can grab. As she writhes underneath Gideon’s onslaught — because at this point that’s what it is, a barrage of pleasure that Harrow is utterly unequipped to handle — she starts babbling. Gideon grins wildly. “What was that, baby?”
She struggles for a moment before forcing out something clear in a high, strangled voice. “Gideon, Gideon-“
“I’m here, baby, what’re you calling me for? You need something?” She runs a hand over her abdomen and watches as her back arches.
Harrow looks up at her and whines out in a truly desperate voice, “Alpha—“
And that’s the moment that Gideon loses the ability to have complex thought. She hunches herself over her girl, her omega, and pounds into her. She can hear the creaking of the bed under them, the high wild keens from Harrow, the wet smack as her pelvis meets her cunt on each thrust. The world is hot and wet and perfect, and her mouth is moving before her brain again.
“Gonna fill you up, Harrow, gonna fucking breed you—“ A wounded noise from over her shoulder. “—yeah, that’s it, scream for me, lemme know how bad you want it-“
“W-want it, I want it, Gideon, GideonGideonGideon—“
She grabs at Harrow’s jaw and wrenches her head to the side, covering that pretty howling mouth with her own. She throws her arms around Gideon desperately, clinging to her as her scrawny legs kick at her back. The wet heat of her cunt is turning to a vice. Gideon’s hips lose rhythm but pick up in intensity. Her knot begins to swell, forcing open a wailing Harrow all the further as it pushes in and out of her. It finally snags inside her and can’t pull back out, leaving Gideon humping wildly as she drinks in Harrow’s hiccuping sobs. It’s all over only a moment later, when her perfect omega comes undone beneath and around her, gushing as she sinks her sharp little fangs into Gideon’s lip. There’s nothing she can do but follow suit, groaning as rope after rope of hot spend is shot into her girl’s waiting warmth.
They lay there for a while longer, sweaty and gasping. With no small amount of effort, Gideon wraps her arms around her girl and gently stands, bringing her along. Harrow only hums in response. She makes her way to the bathroom, careful to move slowly so she doesn’t jostle herself inside Harrow too bad. Soon enough, she’s lowering the two of them into a bath, Harrow slumped against her front. Her little nunlet blinks up at her questioningly.
“Warm water helps the knot go down faster,” she mumbles. “Figured you don’t wanna be stuck like this for another hour, yeah?”
“…right. That would be…impractical.” Her eyes turn from Gideon to the wall tiles.
“Besides, you need a cleanup. Pretty sure you haven’t bathed all week.” That earns her a swat to the arm, which draws a laugh from her at the sheer noodly rage of Harrow’s arm. “Just lemme clean you up. That sound good?”
There’s a good bit of huffing and puffing, but eventually Harrow calms back down enough for Gideon to start soaping her up and rinsing her down. She also tries valiantly to wash Gideon in return, though she’s a bit less successful with how the post-coital exhaustion seems to be setting in. Gideon’s knot goes down halfway through, but neither of them make any move to get out of the slowly-cooling tub. Rather, they both seem content to rest against each other a while longer. Harrow’s heat is liable to kick back up soon anyway, and Gideon will have to be there to help her. They’ll take this lull to recharge, and maybe the next one will be dedicated to making some dinner.
Harrow purrs into the hollow of Gideon’s throat. She chirrs in response, and the bathroom fills with the gentle harmony of it.