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It was finally here. Graduation day.

Beeko and Muffy sat side by side in the neat little folding chairs lined up across the stadium lawn, hands laced tightly between them, caps crooked, fur fluffed, eyes tired but glowing. Four years. Four absolutely insane years—rallies and dorm fights, heat cycles and hissy fits, heartbreaks and hookups and hell weeks—but they'd made it. Somehow. Not just to the end of college, but to the end together.

And on the subject of what they'd made together—or what they'd been making together for the better part of this last trimester—Muffy shifted in her seat again, groaning under her breath as the polyester robe bunched awkwardly beneath her belly. Fifth time she'd had to readjust it. She should've ordered the next size up—two sizes, like her mom had warned—but no, she'd been stubborn. And now here she was, sweating under her cap, squeezed into something that barely fit past her hips, belly round and taut with the sticky consequences of one very particular deer-boy's graduation gift.

Her thighs tensed. The fabric tugged. And she could feel him staring again.

She didn't need to look. His scent was already in her nose, his fingers warm and reassuring in her palm, and that slow, dopey gaze of his had been locked on her from the moment she waddled across the field. She caught herself smiling before she meant to, cheeks dimpling, pulse racing, and bit her lip hard enough to suppress a whine.

Gods, worse than the swollen ankles and constant pee breaks was the horniness. The spontaneous, searing, bone-deep bouts of horny that ambushed her out of nowhere and had her clenching every time he so much as blinked in her direction. It didn't help that his scent was stronger lately—muskier, fuller—like some primal part of him knew he'd knocked her up and was doubling down on the whole “claiming" thing. It made her squirm.

And they still had another hour to sit through speeches.

She caught Beeko staring again and bit her lip. Oh, she knew this game.

He'd steal little glances, pretending he wasn't, knowing full well she could feel his gaze, knowing exactly what it did to her. And of course, he could smell it too—because the moment she got flustered, that slick, heady scent clung to her like perfume. And the moment he caught a whiff? Well, judging by the way his gown now refused to drape flat across his lap and the slow, sticky throb between her thighs, they were both losing. Or winning. Or something in between. Honestly, she didn't care. All she knew was the scent of his arousal was drilling straight into the decision-making part of her brain and replacing it with need.

She glanced at the schedule. Then at her watch. Then at the exit.

Her feet were already moving before the thought finished forming. Her hand slid into his, tugging him upward with more urgency than grace, and without a word between them, she led him out—through the rows, past the parents, past the speeches, past everything—and straight toward the heavy auditorium doors.

Because if she didn't get him in her soon, she was going to start crying in front of the valedictorian.

“Where are we going?" Beeko whispered, trying to keep pace, his voice tight with nerves and excitement. His third leg wasn't making it easy—every step threatened to tangle him up in the folds of his gown or trip him flat on his face. But Muffy didn't answer. She just shushed him over her shoulder, tail twitching, and yanked his paw harder as she dragged him down a side hall, away from the crowd.

The small room she ducked into looked almost forgotten, tucked behind a sign that read Mother's Comfort Lounge – Authorized Use Only. Inside, the air was quiet and cool, the lights dim. A single couch sat against one wall, oversized and soft, clearly built for resting or nursing. A mini-fridge hummed gently beneath a counter, and a discreet curtain hung near the back in case someone needed privacy. This was the kind of place campuses installed as a PR gesture—meant for new moms to nurse or recover, not for what Muffy had planned.

She locked the door behind them with a firm click, the sound echoing in the small, intimate space.

"Now," she said, her voice dropping into that commanding, breathy tone that drove him wild. It was a voice that promised pleasure and demanded obedience all at once.

Beeko grinned, his heart already racing in anticipation. Gods, he loved when she got like this, bossy, flushed, dripping with need. He barely had time to adjust himself, his cock already straining against the confines of his gown, before she hiked up her own robe and exposed everything. No panties. No hesitation. Just pink, glistening proof of how badly she needed him.

He licked his lips, already dropping to his knees for a taste, desperate to bury his face between her thighs and drink her in. But she stopped him with a palm against his antlers, holding him in place.

"Later," she growled, eyes blazing with hunger and urgency. "We only have an hour before our names are called. Skip the foreplay and fuck me like you're trying to put another little hybrid in me."

Beeko swore under his breath, his whole body tensing like a drawn bowstring ready to snap. The scent of her heat hit him square in the brain, syrupy and electric, shorting out any remaining higher thought. There was no time to think, no time to be gentle. Only time to give her exactly what she needed.

Beeko didn't need to be told twice. His clothes fell to the floor almost as fast as hers did, fabric pooling at their feet in a forgotten heap. In one fluid motion, he grabbed her from behind, hands curving possessively around her swollen belly, feeling the taut, stretched skin and imagining it growing ever tighter. He guided her to the oversized chair, sitting down heavily and pulling her into his lap, her back flush against his chest, thighs spread wide over his.

She sank onto him with a moan, a sound of pure relief and rapture, her slick walls parting easily for his length as he lifted her hips and positioned himself at her entrance. They'd done this hundreds of times since their first year together, mapped every inch of each other's bodies in passion and exploration, but the intensity never faded. If anything, it only grew. His practiced hands played her like a well-loved instrument, tracing familiar paths along her curves that made her sing.

Muffy arched as he nibbled the sensitive fur at the nape of her neck, hips rolling in tight circles, riding him with an urgency that bordered on feral. He squeezed her heavy, milk-swollen breasts, the flesh overflowing his palms as he kneaded and tugged, sending jolts of pleasure-pain sparking through her nerves. She keened at the sensation, head lolling back against his shoulder, lost to the heady bliss of being so thoroughly filled and claimed.

With each powerful thrust, he stirred her molten depths, his oversized cock stretching and stroking all the most sensitive, secret places deep inside her quivering body. The fit was always deliciously snug before, their bodies molded so perfectly to each other like they were made to join this way, but with her ripe belly so full and heavy with their growing litter, the exquisite pressure was almost too much to bear. She could feel every thick ridge, every hard throb of his massive length as he split her open again and again, relentlessly driving her higher with every snap of his straining hips.

"Fuck, yes, just like that," she gasped out, barely able to form coherent words through the haze of need, grinding her hips down wantonly to take him even deeper inside her aching core. "Don't you dare stop, don't stop, I'm gonna--"

Her explosive orgasm crashed through her like a primal force of nature, as sudden as it was devastatingly intense. She clenched around him like a vice, rhythmic spasms seizing her molten core as waves of shattering pleasure radiated out to the very tips of her twitching ears and the ends of her curling toes. Beeko groaned hotly into the curve of her neck, his own powerful release pulsing hot and wonderfully thick as he emptied himself deep inside her willing, wanting body. He held her tight against him, strong hips bucking erratically, drawing out each toe-curling aftershock until they were both trembling and utterly spent.

For a long moment, they simply clung to each other, panting hard, hearts pounding in sync as they slowly drifted back down to earth. Muffy nuzzled into his neck with a contented hum, basking in the solid heat of his body around her and the comforting weight of his softening cock still nestled inside, reluctant to let him slip free.

"Mmm, we're gonna be late to the stage," she murmured, though she made no move to get up, too boneless and sated to care.

Beeko chuckled, low and rumbling against her back, the vibrations soothing. "Worth it," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

She couldn't help but agree. Graduation day, and they were already practicing for their next big adventure. Parenthood. Just the thought made her shiver with anticipation, a thrill running down her spine.

Beeko's hands smoothed over her belly, reverent and possessive, tracing the stretched skin as if marveling at the life they'd created. "Can't wait to see you get even bigger," he purred, nosing behind her ear, breath hot on her neck. "Gonna fill you up over and over until you're so round and ripe you can barely walk."

Muffy whimpered, a fresh gush of arousal flooding her core at his words, stoking the embers of her desire back to a flickering flame. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she said, voice husky and raw. "Or we might have to miss the whole ceremony."

He laughed, deep and warm, sending delicious vibrations across her sensitive skin. Gently, he lifted her off his softening length, both of them shuddering at the loss, and turned her in his arms so he could press a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips.

"Come on, baby, let's go graduate," he said, reaching to tug her gown back into place with care. "I've got plans for you later. All. Night. Long."

With a wink and a playful swat to her rear that made her yelp and giggle, he led them out of the little room and back toward their future, hand in hand. Whatever came next, wherever their path led, they'd face it the same way they'd faced the last four crazy, beautiful, life-changing years.

Together. Always together.