𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍, radioapple

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆, impulsive

   the air was thick, with shallow breaths flooding the surrounding space with an irregular, erratic rhythm. the desperate gasps seemed to bounce off the walls, creating a sense of uneasy tension in the otherwise still atmosphere. rutting season, for couples, this was a week filled with intense bliss and mutual pleasure, but for those who didn't possess such an easy way out, it was seven consecutive days of pure unfiltered torture.

   typically, when a hybrid sinner enters such an unpredictable state, they have a partner to help them through it without causing problems. but for one lonesome deer, relationships never came easy for such a repelled sinner. the thought alone of being stuck in a binding relationship made his skin crawl. he never particularly enjoyed skin to skin contact with anyone, sensual or otherwise. and although the idea of sex usually repulsed him, alastor now found himself experiencing desires that had completely overtaken his previous state of mind. the mere thought of physical intimacy that once made him sick to his stomach now seemed to excite him in ways he never thought possible.

   his entire body felt sticky and warm, coated in a thin layer of secreted sweat, which made his golden skin glisten in the dull rays of sunlight. he felt betrayed by his own body, which ruthlessly roasted him alive with the heat of a thousand scorching suns. despite the countless attempts to cool down, this burning heat held a persistent grip on him, and refused to let up.

   with his body in its current state, leaving his room became nearly impossible. not wanting to do something he'd regret later, he remained locked behind closed doors, impatiently awaiting the day he'd return to his normal state of mind.

   a distinctive hunger loomed over his hooded eyes, begging for some relief from this endless torture. he groaned in frustration, weakly rubbing his thighs together to earn some much-deserved friction. the needy prick between his legs denied any attention he tried to give it. no matter how desperately he wanted to relieve himself, nothing was ever enough.

   he rolled his hips forward, grinding himself into the softness of his bedsheets with a low groan. this urge for more was growing out of control as he slowly rubbed himself against the fabric of his restricting pants like a heat-driven animal. he craved more than this slight friction; the repetitive back-and-forth motion did little to nothing for him. he needed a willing second party to shove himself into. even if it disgusted him to his core, this rut didn't leave him with much choice.

days and nights periodically blended together, making him unsure how much longer he would have to bear this endless suffering. because of this unresting need to mate, he found it incredibly difficult to get even a wink of sleep while in this horny state.

his body remained a flushed mess, from the very tips of his ears down to his problem-inducing groin. for however long he'd been dealing with this unforgiving rut, all his mind could focus on was sex. the overwhelming need to dominate something was overdriving his sense of control. as much as he wanted to believe he could power through this without any consequences, his intrusive thoughts said otherwise.

the demon was undoubtedly touch starved, starving for the slightest bit of attention that he forbade himself to give. the throbbing organ practically begged to be satisfied, which he blatantly ignored. tossing and turning under the messy covers while lewd imagery consumed every rational thought. It made him feel all weird and perverse.

seeing that all his attempts were in vain, he sat upright on the very edge of his bed with his head resting in the palm of his hand. a dissatisfied sigh leaving his parted lips, he felt as though he was going insane, unable to shake off the restlessness that plagued him. something needed to be done about this underlying problem before it drove him to the brink of madness. the solution to all his troubles was crystal clear, but it was also his final resort, a drastic measure he had been trying to avoid.