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Chapter Text

Louis is nervous.

Things with the triplets have been amazing in the two months they’ve been dating. He’s gone on plenty of dates with all three alphas—separately and together—getting to know them more deeply and intimately. He couldn’t be happier, knowing he’s found three alphas who accept him exactly as he is.

There’s just one problem.

It has nothing to do with their relationship but everything to do with timing. His heat and their rut are due the same week. He hasn’t told them yet because there’s a lot to consider. First, while his birth control works well, an omega in heat is at its most fertile, and having three virile alphas helping him through it could be… risky. Second, a heat and a rut aligning can be a dangerous combination. And lastly, as much as he knows he’ll be desperate for them once his heat fully sets in, the thought of handling three alphas in rut is intimidating.

But he also knows how unbearable his heat will be without them. His omega is already attached to the triplets—craving them. Since they’ve already made love, going through it alone would be agonizing.

With their cycles only a week away, he knows he needs to tell them. Soon, he won’t be able to hide it anyway—not when his scent gives him away.

He decides to bring it up when they’re all curled up in his nest on the floor, resting after a late night of studying. The triplets are half-asleep, their bodies warm and heavy against his, but Louis knows he can’t put this off any longer.

“Alphas?” he murmurs, drawing their attention.

Harry hums sleepily, squeezing his hip. “Yeah, baby?”

Louis hesitates, then says carefully, “My heat is coming up.” He takes a breath and adds, “At the same time as your rut.”

That wakes them up. The triplets fall silent, processing his words, so Louis presses on. “I’d like for us to help each other through it, but I have some concerns.”

“Makes sense,” Marcel murmurs against his neck, his voice still thick with sleep.

Louis exhales, steadying himself. “There’s the smallest, tiniest risk of pregnancy,” he admits, wincing. “My birth control is strong, but it’s not as effective during heats. And, well… I don’t think it accounts for three young, healthy alphas having a go at me.”

Edward groans, nuzzling into his stomach where he’s sprawled between him and Harry. “I know that’s not the goal, but fuck, you’d look so good carrying our puppies.”

Marcel hums happily against his skin. “You really would. So full of our babies. Everyone would know we did that to you.”

Louis gapes at them. “Babies? Why am I automatically carrying multiples in your weird fantasies?”

Harry chuckles, stroking a hand down Louis’ side. “Trust me, Lou. If you have our babies, you’ll be having multiples. There’ve been twins or triplets in every generation of our family.”

“Oh, God,” Louis mutters. “Mine too. My sisters—Daisy and Phoebe—they’re twins.”

Edward grins. “See, baby? You’re destined to carry multiple pups.”

“Ugh,” Louis groans, dragging a hand down his face. “That is not the point of this conversation! I’m trying to warn you about a real concern—you three impregnating me. Also, sharing heats and ruts together can be dangerous.”

Marcel soothes him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Don’t worry, kitten. We would never hurt you. Even in rut, we’d never lose control like that.”

“Yeah, but you’ve only ever been in rut with each other,” Louis points out. “You’ve never experienced it with an omega. How would you know?”

Harry squeezes his hip again, his voice reassuring. “We don’t, not for sure. But we trust our instincts. You’re our omega. You’re the most important thing to us.”

Louis sighs, skeptical. “Okay, but if I come out of this bonded and pregnant, you’ll have no one to blame but yourselves.”

The triplets chuckle as if he’s joking.

“Don’t be so dramatic, love,” Edward teases. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Louis hopes they’re right.

***

Louis can feel the signs of his approaching heat, and he definitely notices the changes in the triplets as their rut nears.

For him, the biggest change is how clingy he’s become—constantly cuddling them, draping himself over their arms, scenting them every chance he gets. He’s obsessively protective of his nest, constantly rearranging it because his heat-fogged brain can’t seem to get it right. And worst of all, he’s painfully reactive to them. The slightest look, the right tone in their voice, and slick seeps from him before he can stop it.

The triplets, meanwhile, have grown restless—overly aggressive and fiercely protective. In public, they shield him from anyone they deem a threat, never letting him go anywhere without at least one of them by his side. They jump at the slightest touch, their tempers shorter, their growls sharper—and Louis, embarrassingly, slicks for that too.

They’d been staying in the university-provided rooms designated for students sharing their heats or ruts. The space was stocked with all the essentials—blankets, towels, condoms—and included an attached bathroom for convenience.

All four of them are on edge, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the moment their cycles finally snap into place, consuming them whole. 

It happens a day later.

Louis wakes up to hands all over him—gripping, kneading, stroking—heat radiating from every touch. The air is thick with the overwhelming scent of alpha, so potent it nearly makes him dizzy. His lashes flutter as his eyes adjust, and he finds himself surrounded by them.

His alphas.

Harry, Marcel, Edward.

They hover over him, their gazes dark with something primal, raw—pure hunger, dominance, and lust.

Louis can tell his heat hasn’t fully hit yet. Not quite. His body is warm, aching, but his mind is still clear enough to recognize what’s happening. The triplets, though? Their ruts have slammed into them full force. It’s in the way they breathe, the way they stare at him like he’s their next meal. Their instincts are in full control now, and Louis knows—knows—he won’t last much longer.

The scent alone will push him over the edge.

They’re already naked, their cocks hard and flushed a deep red, leaking with need. The sight of them—of all three of them, strung tight and desperate—sends a fresh wave of slick pooling between his thighs.

They don’t waste time. Hands paw at his clothes, pulling, tearing, stripping him bare until there’s nothing left between them.

Then they descend.

Harry moves first, grabbing Louis and maneuvering him effortlessly into his lap before sinking him down onto his cock. Louis gasps, thighs trembling as he takes him in one smooth motion, his body already stretched and open in preparation for what’s to come.

“Fuck,” Harry growls, hands locking onto Louis’ hips, holding him still as he fills him completely.

Louis barely has time to adjust before Marcel is there, his cock pressing at Louis’ lips, his pupils blown wide, nostrils flaring. There’s no hesitation. Marcel thrusts forward, groaning as Louis’ mouth stretches around him, muffling the needy whimper that slips past his throat.

It’s overwhelming. Different. The triplets have always been careful with him, holding back no matter how much he begged for them to be rougher, filthier. But now? There’s nothing stopping them.

They take.

Marcel grips Louis’ hair tight, fucking into his mouth with deep, deliberate strokes. Harry thrusts up into him at the same time, sending shocks of pleasure up Louis’ spine.

And then there’s Edward.

Louis shudders when he feels him behind him, strong hands running possessively down his back, his lips hot against the nape of his neck, sucking, licking, claiming. He doesn’t think much of it—doesn’t expect anything more—until he feels fingers trailing lower, past his dripping core, circling somewhere new.

Somewhere he’s never been touched before.

Louis’ eyes go wide as Edward’s slick-coated fingers press against his asshole, teasing, probing. He makes a surprised noise around Marcel’s cock, hips twitching, unsure whether to pull away or push back.

Edward chuckles darkly. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with rut. “You were made to take us.”

Louis whines. Because Edward’s right. Even though switches like him don’t produce slick there, his omega body is still built to stretch, to be filled. And when Edward pushes the first finger inside, slow but insistent, a new kind of pleasure sparks through him, foreign and so good.

He moans helplessly, caught between all three of them—Harry rutting into him, Marcel fucking his mouth, Edward preparing him for more.

Louis is completely overwhelmed, reduced to nothing more than a plaything for them to use, and fuck, he loves it. Loves being handled like this—like a slut made just for them.

His body trembles as he reaches down, fingers rubbing at his clit, desperate for more friction. His mind is hazy, lost in the push and pull of their bodies, the way they take what they want without hesitation. Edward presses a second finger into his ass, stretching him wider, and Louis barely has time to adjust before a third is added.

There’s no warning. No pause. Just relentless preparation.

The triplets have barely spoken, too lost in their ruts, acting purely on instinct. The only sounds filling the room are the wet, obscene noises of skin against skin, low growls, and Louis’ helpless moans.

Marcel is fucking his mouth with a brutal pace, his cock slamming deep, forcing Louis to take every inch. It’s too much, almost overwhelming, and for a moment, Louis swears he’s going to gag—going to choke—but then, suddenly, Marcel pulls out.

Louis coughs wildly, gasping for air, spit dripping down his chin. Marcel watches him, eyes blown black with lust, and then he smirks, gripping the base of his cock before slapping it against Louis’ swollen lips, against his cheek, making a filthy mess of him.

Harry isn’t any gentler. His fingers dig into Louis’ hips with bruising force, holding him steady as he pounds up into him, hitting his g-spot with every thrust. The pleasure is overwhelming, scorching, and Louis feels himself slipping deeper into his heat, body growing hotter, needier. His cunt clenches desperately around Harry, slick gushing out with every movement.

And Edward—fuck, Edward.

Louis shudders as he feels Edward withdraw his fingers, a wet sound filling the air as he drags his palm over Louis’ soaked entrance, collecting the slick that’s dripping around Harry’s cock. Louis doesn’t need to look to know what’s coming, but when he dares to peek over his shoulder, his breath catches at the sight.

Edward is stroking himself, slicking up his cock with Louis’ own wetness, eyes locked on him like a predator ready to devour its prey.

Then—

Louis chokes on air as Edward nudges the head of his cock against his ass and starts to push in. His body tightens instinctively, stretched so impossibly full, and his breath stutters at the sheer intensity of being filled like this—both of his holes stuffed at once.

He’s had two of them before, but not like this. Not like this.

Thankfully, even in his rut, Edward has enough control to give him a moment to adjust. He groans lowly, his hands smoothing over Louis’ trembling thighs, gripping his waist as he forces himself to go slow—just for now.

It doesn’t take long before Edward picks up the pace, his thrusts growing just as brutal as Harry’s. They move in tandem, driving into him from both sides, forcing gasping, broken moans from Louis’ throat.

Marcel kneels in front of him, capturing his lips in a deep, possessive kiss, but even in his haze, he doesn’t forget to guide Louis’ hand to his cock, curling his fingers around the thick length.

Louis barely has the presence of mind to start stroking, his movements shaky, uncoordinated. His body is burning up, slick pouring from him, but it’s no longer just from the overwhelming pleasure—it’s his heat. It’s taking over. Every thrust, every touch, every filthy sound is pushing him deeper under, stripping away his last fragments of control.

He can feel it—feel the triplets’ knots swelling, catching against him. Harry and Edward’s cocks throb inside him, their knots expanding, locking them together, while Marcel’s pulses in his grip, thick and heavy as it stretches his palm with every stroke.

His own orgasm is coiling tight, winding fast. His fingers work frantically over his aching clit, desperate to push himself over the edge. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming.

Marcel moves from his mouth to his neck, licking and sucking over his pulse point. A second later, Harry sits up, his teeth grazing over the other side, nipping just above Marcel’s mark. Edward follows, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder.

And then—

Louis wails as all three knots swell to full size. Harry and Edward stretch him impossibly wide, locking deep inside, filling him so completely he feels lightheaded. Marcel groans as his own knot forms in Louis’ hand, thick ropes of cum spilling onto his chest, marking him just as thoroughly.

But then—

Sharp teeth sink into his skin. Three sets of canines biting down at once.

Not playful. Not teasing.

This is different. This is permanent.

But Louis can barely think, barely comprehend what they’ve done, because the moment their bonds take hold, a euphoric pleasure slams into him. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before—white-hot, all-consuming. His entire body locks up, pleasure so intense it borders on pain as he convulses around them, milking them for everything they have.

And that’s when his heat fully takes him.

His mind goes blank, instincts taking over completely, as the triplets groan, licking over the bloody, permanent marks they’ve just left behind.

***

Louis wakes up feeling like he’s been hit by a freight train. His entire body aches, muscles sore and joints stiff as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Blinking himself awake, he turns his head to the side and sees Marcel snoozing peacefully beside him. On his other side, Edward is sprawled out on his stomach, head turned away, his breathing deep and even.

There’s something warm between Louis’ legs, and when he glances down, he finds Harry curled up at his feet, tangled in the sheets. But what really catches his attention—what sends a bolt of shock straight through him—is his stomach. It’s distended, rounded in a way that makes his breath catch. He knows he hasn’t been out that long, but he looks at least four months pregnant.

That’s when he feels it—the slow trickle of wetness leaking out of him—and realization dawns. His stomach isn’t swollen from pregnancy. It’s from the sheer amount of come he’s taken over the past few days.

The heat is over. The air is no longer thick with it, the scent faded, leaving only the heavy exhaustion in its wake. But the feeling between his legs is unbearable, slick and come sticking to his thighs. Careful not to disturb his sleeping alphas, Louis slips out of bed, his legs shaky beneath him as he hurries into the connected bathroom.

As soon as he sits on the toilet, he pushes, letting everything drain out of him. He watches as his stomach slowly returns to its normal flatness and sighs in relief. Standing on unsteady legs, he moves to the sink to clean up.

But when he looks in the mirror, his heart stops.

It’s not the dried remnants of slick and come crusted on his skin that catch his attention, nor the dark circles under his eyes.

No. It’s the three raised bite marks sitting on his neck.

His fingers tremble as he touches them, wincing at the soreness.

Fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

They had all agreed—no bonding. He had warned them, told them that this was a risk. They promised they could control themselves. And yet, here they were, bound together for life. Not for a night, not for a year—for life.

He can’t deal with this right now. Not when his emotions are still a mess, his body wrung out and raw from the aftermath of his heat. What he needs is a hot bath, something to clear his mind and soothe his aching limbs.

Turning on the water, he lets the tub fill with bubbles and essential oils before dipping a toe in. But before he can fully sink in, a hand touches his shoulder. He turns, already knowing who it is.

Harry, looking sleepy but smiling.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Thanks a fucking lot,” he mutters, easing himself into the tub.

Harry blinks, confused. “What? What did I do?”

He hasn’t seen the marks yet. Hasn’t realized what they’ve done. Clearly, the haze of his rut had erased any awareness of the moment it happened.

Louis scoffs, lifting himself just enough to gesture at the fresh bond marks. “Oh, I don’t know. You and your knothead brothers just bonded me for life without my consent.”

Harry’s eyes go wide. He stares at the marks in horror, rushing closer to touch the one sitting alone on Louis’ right side. Louis jerks at the contact, and suddenly—fuck. He can feel Harry’s emotions. The worry. The panic. It pulses through the bond, an unfamiliar yet undeniable connection.

“Oh my god,” Harry breathes. “We bonded you?! How—how did this happen?” His voice is higher than normal, pure panic laced in every syllable.

Louis huffs. “Well, you and Edward were balls deep in me, Marcel started kissing my neck, then you two joined in. And the second you all knotted, you bit me.” He sighs. “I don’t remember anything after that. I was too deep in my heat.”

“Fuck, Louis, I’m so sorry.” Harry rakes a hand through his curls. “I thought we’d have more control.”

“Yeah,” Louis mutters. “Me too.”

Harry stares at the bond marks a moment longer, then jolts upright. “Fuck, I have to tell my brothers.” He bolts out of the bathroom.

Louis exhales slowly, focusing on washing away the remnants of their heat. The warm water soothes his sore muscles, but his mind is still racing. He barely gets through rinsing off when Harry returns—this time with Edward and Marcel trailing behind him. They all kneel beside the tub, staring at his neck as if looking at a ghost.

Louis drags the loofah between his legs and winces at a sharp, unexpected soreness. His eyes narrow as he glances at the three alphas. “Did one of you bite my clit?”

They all pause. Marcel looks especially guilty.

“Why do you automatically think it was me?” he protests, but the offense in his voice doesn’t match the smirk twitching at his lips.

Louis levels him with a deadpan stare. “Because you have a constant need to have your mouth on my pussy.”

Marcel shrugs, unapologetic. “You have a really nice pussy.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but his cheeks burn. “Well, no biting down there unless you want me to bite something of yours next time.”

Marcel just grins. “Noted.”

The lightheartedness fades when Louis takes a breath and bares his neck, letting them see the damage they’ve done.

Edward and Marcel exchange glances before mimicking Harry’s earlier actions, brushing tentative fingers over their respective marks. Edward’s sits at the top on his left side, Marcel’s just beneath it.

“Fucking shit,” Edward mutters, his gaze locked on the mark.

Marcel sighs, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry, kitten.”

Louis stays quiet for a moment, turning things over in his mind before finally speaking. “How do you three feel about it? About being bonded to me for life?”

The triplets exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them before they smile. Edward absently runs his fingers over his bond mark again and says, “We already talked about bonding you. We know you’re the one for us. We figured it would happen way later, but—” he shrugs, “—guess we sped up the process.”

Harry nods. “We know we’re absolute dickhead alphas for doing this without your consent. But we love you. You were already our omega—now it’s just official.” His grin is boyish, hopeful.

Louis stares at him, blinking. “Did you just say you love me? We’ve only been dating for two months!”

Harry at least has the decency to look a little sheepish, but Edward is the one who speaks next. “I know it’s sudden, Louis. But our inner alphas know. We have instincts, and we know we love you.” He hesitates, then asks, “But what about you? How do you feel about the bond?”

Three pairs of eyes fix on him, nervous and waiting.

Louis exhales. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I wasn’t ready to bond yet. I haven’t even had a chance to tell my family about you three, and now we’re bonded for life. It’s a lot to take in.”

The triplets visibly deflate, but Louis isn’t done.

“But,” he continues, softer now, “I never thought I’d find an alpha who would accept me for me. And then I found three.” He lets out a shaky breath, meeting their gazes. “And I think—I know that I love you too.”

Their faces light up instantly, and despite himself, Louis can’t help but smile at their stupidly happy grins. But then he schools his expression, leveling them with a look. “That doesn’t mean I’m happy about this,” he warns. “I literally said before our cycles started that if you got me bonded and pregnant, you’d have no one to blame but yourselves.”

“There’s worse alphas you could be bonded to. And at least we didn’t get you pregnant. Hopefully,” Edward smirks.

Louis scoffs. “I guess.”

As the triplets stand, Louis suddenly finds himself nearly eye level with their half-hard dicks, and he gives them a look.

Harry, ever the smug bastard, smirks. “Mind if we join?”

Louis gapes at him. “You guys just fucked me a gazillion times. How do your knots not hurt?”

Marcel chuckles, eyes dark with amusement. “What can we say, kitten? The thought of you being ours forever gets us excited.”

“Well, you better tell them to get unexcited because my holes are way too sore,” Louis snarks, sinking further into the warm water. “Go suck each other off or something.”

He arches a brow when they all glance at each other—considering it. Then, with casual shrugs, they turn and head back to the bed, clearly intending to follow through on his suggestion.

Louis shakes his head at their antics, letting the heat of the bath soothe his aching muscles. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.

He’s bonded.

For life.

And now, he has to figure out how the hell he’s going to tell his mom.

***

Adjusting to life after bonding was… different.

People stared—a lot—when they returned to class. The triplets had always drawn attention; as alpha triplets, they were already a campus spectacle. Edward and Harry, being social butterflies, were especially well-known, while Marcel, though more introverted, had earned his own reputation through tutoring.

But now, Louis was part of the equation.

The gossip spread fast—the alphas on campus not only dating the same omega but bonding him while still in college? It was the kind of scandal people couldn’t stop whispering about.

Louis could feel the weight of their stares, especially when their eyes lingered on his neck. But he was never alone; at least one of the triplets was always with him, and a low, warning growl was usually enough to make people look away. Not that Louis was fooled—he knew they liked it.

They wanted people to see the marks on his skin.

They liked the silent message it sent.

Louis belonged to them.

***

“We need to visit my family over winter break,” Louis says, already bracing himself for the inevitable chaos.

He thinks about his mom and sisters—how they’ll react, what they’ll say. As far as they know, the triplets are just his roommates, the alphas he was forced to live with. His mom probably still thinks he’s annoyed about the whole situation. That feels like a lifetime ago now.

“Of course, baby,” Harry says easily. “We can visit our family too. I can’t wait to show you off to our mom—she’s going to love you.”

Louis huffs. “Yeah, well, my mom might be a little harder to win over. You did accidentally bond her only son.”

Edward winces. “Right… that. But hey, we’re charming. I think we’ll win her over in no time.”

“You’ll also have to win over my twin sisters,” Louis points out, crossing his arms.

Marcel grins. “We’ve got that identical twin-triplet connection going for us. I think we’ll be just fine.”

Louis sighs, rubbing his temples. “Let’s hope.”

***

A week later, they make the trip.

Thankfully, the cold weather gives Louis an excuse to wear a scarf, keeping the bond marks hidden—for now. He wants to ease his family into the news instead of overwhelming them the second he walks through the door.

The triplets drive them down in their car, the hour-long journey feeling shorter than he expected. When they finally pull up to his childhood home, Louis feels a wave of nostalgia. Everything looks exactly the same as when he left five months ago.

He takes a deep breath, glancing over his shoulder at his alphas. They’re bundled up in coats and scarves, their cheeks and noses red from the cold. Louis can’t help but think they look adorable like this.

They give him encouraging smiles, and warmth floods through their bond. He can do this.

Taking another steadying breath, he knocks on the door. His mom always keeps it locked, and he lost his key somewhere in their dorm weeks ago.

It only takes a few moments before the door swings open, revealing his mother’s smiling face.

“Lou, my baby!” She pulls him into a tight hug before leaning back to take him in. “Have you gotten taller?”

He laughs. “Mom, I’m twenty-one and five-foot-four. I think I’m done growing.”

Her smile falters slightly as her gaze shifts behind him, finally noticing the three tall, identical alphas standing there. Her expression tightens.

“Louis, I wasn’t aware you were bringing… guests.”

Louis feigns innocence. “Did I forget to mention that part?” He shrugs. “Look, can we do the introductions and interrogations inside? It’s freezing.”

His mom hesitates for only a second before stepping aside. “Yes, of course. Come in, all of you.”

The warmth of the house wraps around Louis the second he steps inside, and the familiar scent of home makes his shoulders relax. He breathes it in, smiling despite himself. Even if today is going to be a lot, it’s still good to be home.

They start unbundling their coats, but Louis keeps his scarf on, hyper-aware of what lies beneath.

“Would you boys like some hot chocolate?” his mom calls from the kitchen.

“Yes, please,” Louis answers, leading the triplets to the kitchen table.

She puts the milk on the stove before sitting with them as it heats up. “So, you must be the triplets Louis was forced to room with?”

The triplets flash their most charming smiles.

“That’s us,” Harry says smoothly. “I’m Harry.”

“I’m Marcel.”

“And I’m Edward. It’s lovely to meet you…” Edward trails off, unsure what to call her.

“Jo,” she supplies with a small smile. “Call me Jo.”

Her gaze flickers to Louis before settling back on them. “So, I take it you three are quite taken with my boy?”

Louis flushes, but the triplets don’t hesitate.

“Very much so,” Marcel says warmly.

Louis clears his throat. “There’s… something else, Mom.”

She holds up a hand. “Hold that thought. Don’t want the milk to scald.” She stands to stir the pot, speaking over her shoulder. “So, alpha triplets? How did your mother survive?”

The triplets chuckle, and Harry answers, “She had her work cut out for her, that’s for sure, especially as a beta. But we also have an older omega sister, Gemma, and she took every chance she could to keep us in line.”

“Our stepmother helped out a lot, too,” Edward adds. “She was an alpha. She passed away a while ago, but she taught us how to be good alphas.”

Jo’s expression softens. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Edward nods, and she stirs the hot chocolate, sighing. “I’m glad to hear you’re good alphas. I want my boy in the best hands possible.”

Louis smiles, warmth bubbling in his chest. “Trust me, Mom, I am.”

A few minutes later, Jo sets steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. Once they’ve all taken a sip, she looks back at Louis expectantly.

“Alright. What did you want to tell me?”

Louis grips his mug tightly. “Okay, please don’t freak out. It was an accident, but we’ve come to terms with it.”

She just watches him, waiting.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly unwinds his scarf, exposing his neck. Three bite marks sit proudly against his skin, scabbed over but unmistakable.

His alphas shift beside him, looking sheepish.

Jo stares. Her expression is unreadable.

The silence is unbearable.

“Mom, please say something before I explode.”

Before she can respond, the front door opens with a bang.

“Mom, whose car is in the driveway?” Daisy’s voice calls out.

“Yeah, who’s—” Phoebe rounds the corner and freezes.

The twins stare at the scene in front of them.

“Who are they?” they ask in unison.

The triplets chuckle, and Harry smirks at Louis. “Is that what we sound like? No wonder you think it’s creepy.”

Daisy and Phoebe still look confused until realization dawns on Phoebe’s face. “Ohhh. Are these the hot triplets you’re rooming with?”

Louis groans. “Phoebe.”

“Not to be rude, but why are they here?” Daisy asks.

Jo finally speaks, her voice even. “Why don’t you take a look at your brother’s neck?”

The girls’ eyes snap to his exposed bite marks. Their jaws drop.

“Holy shit, Lou!”

“Will you two stop speaking in sync?” Louis huffs.

“You’re bonded? Already? We didn’t even know you were dating them!” Phoebe shrieks, crowding in to inspect his neck.

“We’ve only been together for two months,” Louis admits, voice small.

Daisy shoves herself between him and Marcel, poking at the marks. “Two months?! That’s it?”

“It was an accident. But we love each other, so… we’ll make it work.” Louis tries to sound nonchalant, but his family isn’t having it.

His mom finally speaks again, her voice careful. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know your alphas, and now you’re bonded to them for life.”

Marcel clears his throat. “Jo, if we may. We know we messed up—we should have controlled our instincts better during our rut. But the only mistake we made was how soon it happened. Bonding your son wasn’t a mistake to us. We love him. We were always going to do this.”

“Louis is the best person we know, and we’d never hurt him,” Edward adds.

Daisy crosses her arms. “Except, you know, bond him without consent.”

Harry sighs. “Yeah, we can’t take that back. But we can promise to love him, care for him, and protect him for the rest of our lives.”

Louis’ breath catches in his throat. Their words hit deep, love swelling through their bond.

Phoebe narrows her eyes. “Well, we might be younger, but we’re his beta sisters and he’s a tiny omega. If you break his heart, we’ll rip your knots off.”

The triplets struggle to keep straight faces but nod solemnly.

Louis glances back at his mom. “Mom… I don’t want you to hate me. Or them.”

Jo exhales, rubbing her temples. “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t hate anyone. I just need a moment to process. I don’t approve of how quickly this happened, but… it’s clear they care an awful lot about you. And I suppose I’ll be stuck with them as sons-in-law now.”

Louis grins. “That’s the spirit.”

***

They spend a few days at Louis’ mom’s house, giving his family time to get to know the triplets better. To Louis’ relief, his mom and sisters quickly warm up to them—though despite the bond, his mom still makes the triplets sleep in the guest room, much to their disappointment.

By the time they leave, it’s on a high note, and Louis feels reassured. But that relief quickly morphs into nerves as they head to their next stop—the triplets’ mom’s house.

Louis wants to make a good impression, but it’s hard to ignore the added pressure. He’s not just meeting his boyfriend’s mom—he’s meeting the mother of three alphas he’s bonded to for life. That’s a lot.

When they pull up to the house, his eyes widen at the sheer size of it. The architecture is clearly older but beautifully maintained, giving off a regal, timeless feel.

“Wow. Nice house. Are you guys, like… fucking rich or something?” he asks, still staring in awe from the car.

“Something like that,” Edward says with a chuckle, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Wait!” Louis blurts out, suddenly remembering something. “Does your mom know about you three being a little… you know… incestuous?”

“Yes, she knows. Why?” Harry asks, amused.

“Just checking, so I don’t accidentally out some big family secret and make myself look like an idiot,” Louis huffs.

“You’re fine, love,” Marcel assures him, before tilting his head curiously. “Actually, we were wondering—are your sisters like us?”

Louis frowns, trying to decipher the question, before it clicks. “Oh. No. At least, not that I know of. If they are, they haven’t told me or my mom. They’ve always talked about having their own separate families, so I doubt it.”

“Hm. Maybe it’s just an alpha-omega thing,” Marcel muses.

“Right, well, are we going inside? Because the longer we wait, the worse my nerves are getting,” Louis says, exhaling sharply.

“Of course,” Harry says, and they all climb out of the car, making their way to the front door. Unlike at Louis’ house, the triplets don’t even pause to knock. They just walk right in.

“Oh, Mom,” Edward sing-songs as they step into the grand entryway. “We have a little surprise for you!”

It takes a moment, but soon a beautiful brunette beta rounds the corner from the living room, and Louis can immediately tell she’s their mother. Her features are unmistakable.

Unlike his own mom, she doesn’t hesitate to acknowledge him. Her face lights up in a grin. “You must be Louis.”

Louis blinks, taken aback. “Uh—yeah. Nice to meet you.”

He extends a gloved hand out of politeness, but she completely ignores it and pulls him into a warm hug instead. He stiffens in surprise before tentatively hugging her back, inhaling her soft, comforting scent. 

When she pulls away, she studies him with a smile. “You’re just as pretty as they said.”

Louis furrows his brows. “They’ve talked about me?”

He glances at the triplets, who suddenly look sheepish.

“Oh, honey, they haven’t stopped talking about you since the day they started rooming with you,” she says, shaking her head fondly. “They text and call me all the time, going on and on about how, and I quote, ‘fucking perfect’ you are.”

Louis’ face burns. “Well, I don’t know if I can possibly live up to that expectation,” he laughs, shooting the triplets a pointed look. “Your sons exaggerate.”

“We really don’t,” Harry insists. “You are perfect.”

Anne chuckles. “You boys can keep singing his praises, or you can sit down and let me make some lunch. I’m Anne, by the way. Do you like sandwiches?”

“Sandwiches sound great,” Louis says, eager for something to focus on other than his embarrassment.

“Perfect,” Anne says, already turning toward what Louis assumes is the kitchen. “Go sit in the dining room, and I’ll bring everything out in a bit.”

The triplets lead him through the spacious house, and Louis takes in the high ceilings, antique furniture, and warm, inviting atmosphere. It’s cozy despite its size, clearly a well-loved home.

As they settle at the dining table, Louis rests his hands in his lap, fingers tugging at the fabric of his gloves. “So… your mom seems nice,” he murmurs, glancing at the triplets.

“She’s kind of obsessed with male omegas, so don’t be surprised if she’s all over you,” Harry warns with a smirk.

“Obsessed?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

“She’s always wanted an omega son,” Edward explains. “Instead, she got an omega daughter and three alpha sons. So don’t be surprised if you suddenly become her favorite.”

“Well, if it helps win her over, I’m okay with that,” Louis says with a grin.

A moment later, Anne returns, carrying a tray of sandwiches. As she sets it down, she turns to Louis with a warm smile.

“Louis, your mom must be so happy to have a son who’s an omega,” she says.

The triplets shoot Louis identical knowing looks, as if to say, Told you so. He fights back a grin before refocusing on Anne.

“Oh, she is,” he replies. “She still treats me like her baby more than my younger beta sisters. We actually just came from staying with her.”

“Oh? I hope my boys were good alphas and made a good impression,” she says, raising an eyebrow at the triplets.

“They were perfect gentlemen. My mom loved them,” Louis assures her but then hesitates. “Actually, we were there to tell her the same thing we need to tell you.”

Anne studies them for a beat before nodding knowingly. “You’ve bonded with each other.”

The room falls silent as Louis and the triplets gape at her.

“How did you know?” Marcel asks, stunned.

Anne huffs a soft laugh. “Oh, please. It’s obvious. It’s seventy-three degrees in here, and Louis is still wearing his scarf. And with the way you three have been talking about him, I knew it was only a matter of time.”

Louis glances at the triplets, unsure how to respond. He had been nervous about telling Anne, but she had clearly put the pieces together before they even had a chance.

“You’re… not mad?” he asks hesitantly.

Anne blinks at him before letting out a soft chuckle. “Mad? Oh, sweetheart, no. I won’t pretend I’m not surprised it happened this soon, but I know my boys. If they bonded you, it’s because they adore you. And, well, I can see how smitten you are with them.”

Louis exhales in relief. “I am,” he admits, voice soft.

Anne beams, but then her expression turns sly as she turns her attention to her sons. “And you three? You do realize what you’ve done, don’t you?”

Harry straightens slightly. “Yes, Mum. We know we should’ve waited, but we love Louis. We would have bonded him eventually. It just… happened a bit sooner than expected.”

Marcel nods. “We’re committed to him. This isn’t something we took lightly.”

Edward grins. “We’re in it for life.”

Anne hums, giving them a long, considering look before finally sighing dramatically. “Well, I can’t exactly unbond you now, can I? So I suppose I’ll have to live with it.”

Louis opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, she continues, “Honestly, I should be thanking you, Louis. I always wanted a male omega in the family, and finally, someone made it happen! And my boys, of all people! Who would’ve thought?”

Louis stares at her, unsure if she’s serious. “Uh… you’re welcome?”

Anne grins, reaching over to pat his hand. “Oh, darling, don’t be shy. I love this. My boys bonding a sweet, adorable male omega? And you’re so pretty, too! What a dream come true.”

Louis flushes under Anne’s praise, but if he’s honest, he thinks it’s kind of cute. She seems genuinely thrilled about having a male omega in the family, and while it’s a little overwhelming, it’s also oddly reassuring.

“Well, I’m glad I could help make your dreams a reality,” he mumbles, suddenly feeling hot from the attention. He takes off his scarf and Anne’s eyes trail to his neck, gawking at the trio of bites there. 

Anne gasps suddenly, nostrils flaring, her eyes going wide with excitement. “Oh my God—wait. You’re not pregnant already, are you?”

Louis chokes on air, coughing violently as his face burns. “What?!”

The triplets burst into laughter, and Anne just tilts her head, watching him closely. “Oh, I don’t know, sweetheart. My senses are never wrong about these things.”

Louis gapes at her. “I—I think I’d know if I were pregnant.”

Anne hums, clearly not convinced. “Mmm, maybe. But I’m just saying, I’ve always been able to tell when an omega’s expecting. Something in the way their scent shifts… And you did bond with three very eager alphas.”

Louis stares at her in horror while the triplets exchange amused looks.

“I’m not pregnant,” Louis insists.

Anne just smiles knowingly, like she’s already decided she’ll be proven right eventually. “Well, if you are, I would love some little male omega grandbabies. Maybe a set of triplets, hmm?” She sighs dramatically. “I always wanted three little omega boys, but instead, I got these troublemakers.” She gestures toward her sons, rolling her eyes with a smile. “So you will just have to give me what they never could.”

Louis groans, dropping his face into his hands. “This is so much worse than the triplets meeting my mother.”

Anne just beams. “Oh, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”

***

The days spent at the triplets’ home had been… interesting, to say the least. Louis quickly realized that his alphas weren’t exaggerating when they said their mom would be obsessed with him.

Anne practically hovered the entire time they were there. She barely spoke to her sons in the three days they spent at her house, too busy asking Louis about his hobbies, his family, and his thoughts on a variety of topics. But the real kicker was her constant sniffing. She kept getting way too close, inhaling deeply, and making comments about him being pregnant.

“You know, I had a lot of trouble carrying the triplets,” she said over breakfast on their last day. “Betas don’t have an easy time carrying multiples. I had to have a C-section. But you, Louis… you’d have no problem. Those hips were made for it. Those puppies are just going to slide right out.”

Louis almost choked on his toast at that, the triplets laughing loudly and agreeing with their mom as if she hadn’t just said something completely insane.

Louis wasn’t sure whether to let their mom know that he’s a switch, but he didn’t think it would change anything. If anything, it would only make her more eager for him to be pregnant since female omegas and switches with vaginas have easier labors than male omegas that give birth anally. 

Anne had left him with a parting gift—a bag of cookies she claimed to have made herself. She swore by them for a healthy, easy pregnancy. Louis wanted to roll his eyes at her insistence that he was pregnant, but he managed to smile and thank her anyway. He bid her farewell with a hug, trying to ignore the fact that she was still peering at him like she’d just gifted him the key to the universe.

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart,” Anne said, her eyes still twinkling with her relentless, hopeful gaze. “And remember, if you ever need anything… you know where to find me.”

Louis nodded, half-wondering if he’d ever escape the relentless pregnancy talk. But, in the end, he couldn’t help but find it kind of sweet—if not a little bit overwhelming.

***

“Edward, where are we going?”

Edward squeezes their entwined fingers, a smirk playing on his lips. “We didn’t get to properly celebrate your birthday since we were at your mom’s, so I’m taking you shopping.”

Louis hums, letting Edward tug him along as they weave through the mall near campus. It had been a few days since they’d gotten back to school, and Edward had been adamant about having Louis to himself for the afternoon.

They stroll past store after store until Edward slows, eyes locking onto a particular shop. Louis follows his gaze and immediately narrows his eyes. A lingerie store.

“No, Edward.” His voice is firm, but Edward just gives him a pleading look, lower lip jutting out in a practiced pout.

“Come on, Lou, we can just look,” he coaxes.

Louis sighs. He can’t say no to that damn face. “Fine. Just looking.”

The moment they step inside, Louis is surrounded by mannequins draped in lace, silk, and delicate straps. His eyes flit over the neatly arranged drawers of lacy panties, fingers unconsciously tracing the soft fabric. It’s barely a touch, but he can already imagine how they’d feel against his skin.

Edward slides up behind him, his breath warm against his ear. “See anything you like, Lou?”

Louis swallows, his resolve weakening. “We were only supposed to be looking, remember?” But even he can’t deny the temptation.

Before Edward can respond, a sales associate approaches, a bright-eyed beta with a friendly smile.

“Can I help you gentlemen with anything?”

“No, thank you. We’re just looking,” Louis says quickly, shooting a warning glance at Edward.

The beta nods but adds, “Just a heads-up, we do have underwear specifically designed for male omegas. They’re at the back of the store, along with the dressing rooms. Let me know if you need any help!”

Louis’ cheeks burn. He knows exactly what she’s referring to—panties with extra room and support in the front for an omega’s anatomy. An anatomy he doesn’t have.

But he forces a polite smile. “Thanks.”

Edward’s hand settles on his hip, giving a reassuring squeeze, no doubt sensing his brief discomfort through the bond. His voice is softer when he speaks. “How about we try a few on? If you don’t like them, we won’t get them.”

Louis eyes him suspiciously. He knows exactly what Edward is trying to do, but he also does want to see how they look on him.

“…Fine.”

Edward grins and immediately snatches a garter belt and a pair of stockings.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Those weren’t part of the deal.”

“Too late,” Edward says smugly, already leading him toward the dressing rooms.

The space is small, barely enough for both of them, but Edward squeezes in anyway, dropping onto the bench with a lazy sprawl. Across from him, a full-length mirror reflects Louis’ unimpressed look.

Edward wiggles his fingers in invitation. “Come here, omega.”

Louis snorts, shoving him back with a hand to his chest. “I need to actually try these on without you trying to shove your knot in me, Eddie.”

Edward’s grin is wicked. “Alright, baby. I’ll wait until after you’ve tried them on to shove my knot in you.”

Louis scoffs but turns away, his movements deliberate as he peels off his leggings, inching them down slowly just to tease. He steps out of them, sliding his cotton panties down next.

He turns to Edward, hands on his hips. “Which pair should I try first?”

“The black silk ones,” Edward says immediately. His voice is rougher now. “And the stockings. And the garter belt.”

Louis arches a brow but complies, pulling the panties up over his hips. The silk clings to his curves, molding to him like a second skin. Next, he rolls the stockings up his smooth legs before fastening the garter belt in place. The final touch is pulling off his shirt, leaving himself completely exposed to Edward’s hungry gaze.

“Fuck,” Edward breathes. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling a little faster now.

Louis barely has a second to react before he’s being pulled between Edward’s legs, strong hands gripping his waist. Edward leans in, lips latching onto one of his nipples, sucking lightly.

Louis moans, the sensation sending a shiver through him. His nipples feel unusually sensitive, and he gasps when Edward bites down just enough to make him squirm.

Edward smirks up at him. “Looks like you’re enjoying your birthday gift already, princess.”

“I know you apparently get off on doing shit in public, but I can’t get slick all over lingerie I haven’t bought yet,” Louis huffs, though his voice is already breathy with anticipation.

Edward smirks against his neck, fingers ghosting over his hips. “Then take them off.”

Louis rolls his eyes but obeys, unfastening the garter belt with quick fingers before peeling off the stockings and tossing them aside. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of the delicate panties, sliding them down carefully to avoid disturbing the hygienic liner. The second he’s bare, Edward pounces.

The alpha pulls Louis onto his lap, positioning him so his back is flush against Edward’s solid chest. Warm breath fans over Louis’ neck as Edward nips at his bond mark, sending shivers down his spine. At the same time, he fumbles with his jeans, pushing them low enough to free his cock and the heavy weight of his balls.

Louis is already soaked, arousal pooling between his thighs, and he swears he can feel Edward’s smugness through the bond. The risk of being caught, the muffled sounds of other customers and employees just beyond the dressing room door—it all makes the thrill pulse hotter inside him.

Edward lifts him effortlessly, lining up the blunt head of his cock before slipping a finger past Louis’ lips. “Bite down,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear how good I’m fucking you.”

The moment Louis’ teeth sink into Edward’s finger, the alpha thrusts up, filling him in one smooth stroke. Louis’ breath stutters, his body stretching around Edward’s cock as pleasure sparks through him.

He hooks his hands beneath his knees, holding his legs up while Edward sets a steady, deep rhythm, fucking up into him with slow, deliberate strokes. When Louis glances at the mirror, he nearly gasps.

He used to ignore his body, barely looked at himself, too wrapped up in old insecurities. But now, he watches, entranced, as Edward’s cock disappears inside him, stretching him open, slick glistening as it coats the alpha’s cock and spills onto his boxers. His labia is swollen, pink and needy, his clit flushed and throbbing under Edward’s touch.

Edward catches his gaze in the reflection, eyes dark with hunger. His lips brush Louis’ ear as he murmurs, “You watching yourself, princess? Watching your pretty little pussy take my big alpha cock? Look at you. You’re dripping for it.”

Louis shudders, biting harder on Edward’s finger to suppress a moan as pleasure pulses through him with every thrust. He watches as Edward’s cock thickens at the base, his knot swelling, stretching him even more. It’s almost mesmerizing to see it happen.

And then Edward thrusts up one final time, knot locking them together with a satisfying stretch, and Louis swears he sees stars.

The alpha’s hand slides down, fingers finding Louis’ clit and rubbing fast, wet circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. The pleasure is instant, overwhelming. Louis tenses, gasping against Edward’s hand as his orgasm slams into him, white-hot and all-consuming.

He falls limp against Edward, thighs trembling as the aftershocks pulse through him. In the mirror, he can see Edward’s balls twitch with every slow pump of come that fills him, warmth pooling deep inside. His cunt glistens, lips swollen and used, his clit still pulsing from the intensity of it all.

Edward presses soft, lazy kisses against his bond mark, tongue soothing over the skin as they catch their breath.

“I think I get why you like public sex now,” Louis murmurs, still breathless.

Edward smirks against his skin. “Hot, isn’t it?”

Louis groans, wrinkling his nose. “God, it’s going to reek of sex in here. And I’m gonna have to walk out of here with come leaking out of me.”

Edward chuckles, utterly unrepentant. “Worth it.”

And as they check out, the beta cashier gives them a knowing look but doesn’t say a word. Louis wants to die of embarrassment, but Edward just grins, looking far too pleased with himself.

***

Since Edward had almost the entire day with Louis to himself, it was only natural that Marcel and Harry got jealous. They wanted their own time with him too.

Harry immediately calls dibs on the next day, sticking his tongue out at Marcel, who pouts but doesn’t argue.

That’s how Louis finds himself on campus, ballet bag in hand, with Harry leading him to the dance studio. It’s unoccupied on Sundays, meaning they’ll have the entire space to themselves.

“Bring your ballet stuff,” Harry had told him.

So he did.

In the changing room, Louis pulls on a pair of pink tights, a black unitard that clings perfectly to his curves, soft leg warmers, and his pointe shoes. He gives himself one last once-over in the mirror, already knowing how much Harry is going to love this.

When he steps out, Harry is leaning casually against the mirrored wall, but the second his eyes rake over Louis’ body, any attempt at being relaxed disappears.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry growls, gaze hungry. “You’re so… omega.” His green eyes drag down Louis’ frame, pupils dilating. “Your waist looks so tiny in that, and your ass—fuck, your ass looks incredible.”

Louis smirks, knowing exactly the effect his ballet outfit would have on the alpha.

“You want to help me stretch?” he asks, voice dripping with faux innocence.

Harry swallows hard, nodding. “Fuck yeah.”

Louis giggles as he grabs his foot and places it on Harry’s shoulder, stretching his leg high. Harry’s hands find his thigh, fingers gripping possessively.

“You’re really fucking flexible,” Harry mutters, voice husky.

“I don’t do all that yoga for nothing, alpha,” Louis teases, rolling his eyes before reaching forward to deepen the stretch.

Harry’s eyes flicker downward, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Are you wearing one of your new panties?”

Louis tilts his head, smirking. “I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll find out later.” He shifts his leg, replacing it with the other, stretching slowly and deliberately. “Did Ed tell you about our little excursion?”

“He may have mentioned how you two fucked in the changing room,” Harry replies, smirking.

Louis grins. “It was fun. Now I see why it’s such a kink of his.”

Harry’s grip tightens on his thigh. “And here I thought you were a sweet little omega.”

Louis rolls his eyes, dropping his leg and stepping closer. “When are you finally going to try your kinks with me?”

Harry stiffens slightly. “Louis…”

“I’m tired of being treated like I’m fragile, Harry. You said you like to completely dominate your submissive. And hellooo? I’m your submissive. So completely dominate me.”

Harry exhales heavily, running a hand through his curls. “I just don’t want to push you too far. My brothers can take it, but you—”

“I can take it too.” Louis cuts him off, lifting his chin. “I’m not going to break, Harry. And you won’t push me too far. We can set boundaries, have a safeword.” He pauses, then grins. “Like grapefruit.”

Harry eyes him for a moment, something dark and unreadable flickering in his gaze before he finally nods. “Alright, baby.” His lips curl into a smirk. “But first, you have to give me a show.”

Louis’ pulse spikes with excitement. “Yes, alpha.”

With a wicked smile, he steps back, lifting his arms into first position as he recalls a routine from years ago. Then, he begins to dance.

Louis moves gracefully across the studio, letting muscle memory take over as he executes the routine. His body flows through the motions effortlessly—every pirouette, every arabesque designed to showcase his strength and precision. The wooden floor is smooth beneath his pointe shoes, and the mirrors reflect the way his body bends and flexes, highlighting the toned lines of his legs, the perfect arch of his foot, the curve of his waist.

Harry watches from where he’s leaning against the mirrored wall, arms crossed, gaze heavy with something dark and unreadable. His lips part slightly as Louis dances, his green eyes tracing every movement with rapt attention.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters under his breath when Louis lands a particularly stunning développé. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”

Louis smirks but doesn’t break form, enjoying the way Harry’s voice has gone husky, the way his restraint seems to fray with every passing second.

He finishes the sequence with a slow, deliberate movement, stretching up onto the very tips of his pointe shoes before lowering himself back down, breathing slightly heavier now.

When he finally meets Harry’s gaze, the alpha is already pushing off the wall, closing the distance between them in a few strides.

“Come here,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to grip Louis’ waist. He pulls him close, his large hands warm and firm as they settle over his hips. “You did that just to wind me up, didn’t you?”

Louis tilts his head, looking up at him with faux innocence. “Whatever do you mean, alpha?”

Harry huffs a quiet laugh, but his grip tightens. “Maybe you should be punished for teasing your alpha like that,” he murmurs before flipping their positions, pressing Louis back against the mirrored wall.

Louis gasps, but he doesn’t protest. His heart pounds as Harry’s hands slide down, gripping the backs of his thighs before hoisting him up effortlessly. Instinctively, Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, their bodies pressing together.

“I can smell you,” Harry groans, nudging his nose along the column of Louis’ neck, inhaling deeply. “You’ve been wet since you walked out of that bathroom, haven’t you?”

Louis shivers, knowing there’s no point in denying it. “Maybe.”

Harry chuckles darkly, tilting his head to press an open-mouthed kiss just beneath his bond bite. “So needy.”

Louis exhales sharply as Harry rolls his hips, grinding their bodies together, friction sending a rush of heat straight to his cunt. His tights make the sensation more teasing than satisfying, and he whines in frustration, bucking against Harry in search of more.

Harry laughs against his skin. “Impatient?”

“You started this,” Louis pants. “So fucking finish it, alpha.”

A growl rumbles in Harry’s chest. “Oh, baby. I’m going to wreck you.”

Louis is practically vibrating with anticipation, ready for Harry to take him right then and there, but the alpha suddenly smirks and says, “But not here.”

Louis lets out a frustrated groan, his pout deepening as he glares up at Harry. But before he can argue, Harry grips his chin firmly, tilting his face up. His green eyes darken with possession.

“Edward might like to fuck you where anyone can see, but I don’t want any other alpha looking at what’s mine.” His voice is low, a growl rumbling beneath his words. “I don’t want them hearing the little whimpers you make when you take cock. Or seeing the face you make when you come.”

A needy moan slips from Louis’ lips before he can stop it, his entire body flushing hot. His thighs squeeze together instinctively, but it does little to soothe the ache between his legs. He knows, without even looking, that his panties and tights are ruined—soaked through with slick.

And then, to his utter disbelief, Harry steps away.

Louis blinks at him, stunned, breathless. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Harry just chuckles, adjusting himself through his joggers as he eyes Louis with amusement. “You need to compose yourself, omega,” he says, far too smug. “We still have to walk across campus back to the dorm, and I can’t have your slick attracting every alpha in a five-mile radius.”

Louis lets out an exasperated huff, grabbing his bag as he glares. “You’re the fucking worst, Harry.”

Harry just grins. “But you love me.”

***

Louis barely holds himself together on the way back to the dorm, his entire body thrumming with anticipation. By some miracle, he makes it without begging Harry to touch him right there on the sidewalk.

Luckily, Marcel and Edward are out, leaving the dorm just for them.

As soon as they step inside, Harry shuts the door behind them and turns to Louis with a dark, commanding gaze. “Strip down to just your panties. Get in the nest and present for me.”

The alpha timber in his voice leaves no room for argument. Louis scrambles to obey, his fingers fumbling as he sheds his clothes, leaving only his underwear. He climbs into the nest, settling on his knees and arching his back, pressing his elbows into the soft bedding beneath him. His heart pounds in anticipation, every nerve alight with excitement.

He listens as Harry undresses behind him, the quiet rustle of fabric making his skin prickle. Then he hears the alpha move, his footsteps slow and deliberate before kneeling behind him.

A rough palm caresses his ass, squeezing firmly before a deep, appreciative growl rumbles from Harry’s chest. “Mm, these panties look delicious on you.”

A pleased smile tugs at Louis’ lips. “Thanks, Harry—”

The sharp squeeze to his ass makes him yelp.

“Only address me as alpha. Understood, baby?” Harry’s grip tightens, and Louis shivers at the authority in his voice.

He nods quickly, but that earns him another punishing squeeze. “Use your words.”

“Yes, alpha,” he breathes, his voice slightly unsteady—not from fear, but from the sheer thrill of submission.

“Good boy.” The praise soothes his nerves, and he melts under Harry’s hands as the alpha slowly peels his panties down, leaving him bare.

A calloused palm glides over the curve of his ass, then spreads him open, letting cool air hit his slick folds. Heat floods his cheeks, but before he can process the exposure, Harry’s voice cuts through the air.

“Ten spanks. That should be enough punishment for teasing me earlier.”

Louis barely has time to brace himself before the first strike lands, a sharp slap against his left cheek.

His body jolts forward, a gasp spilling from his lips just as the second spank lands on the opposite side. He cries out, the sharp sting making his skin tingle, but it’s the burn of pleasure that has slick dripping down his thighs.

By the time Harry reaches the final spank, Louis is trembling, his thighs slick, his face wet with tears he hadn’t realized had fallen. It hurts—but God, it feels good.

Just when he thinks it’s over, the last spank lands directly on his cunt.

A strangled sob rips from his throat, and before he can even process the shock, his body seizes, pleasure slamming into him like a tidal wave. His orgasm takes him by surprise, his walls clenching desperately around nothing as his entire body shudders.

A sharp inhale comes from behind him, and he realizes Harry hadn’t expected that either.

“Fuck, baby.” Harry’s voice is thick, almost reverent. “That was so hot. But I never gave you permission to come.”

Louis’ breath stutters. His omega whimpers, reacting to the sheer dominance woven into the alpha’s voice.

“I’m sorry, alpha,” he mumbles into the pillow, his face burning.

Harry hums in disapproval. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Louis.”

Louis hears the rustling of a drawer before Harry returns, gripping his wrists and flipping him onto his back. Before he can react, soft rope winds around his wrists, binding them together above his head.

Harry looms over him, green eyes dark with something wicked. He roughly grabs Louis’ jaw, forcing their eyes to meet.

“I don’t know if you deserve to have your pussy played with after that.” His lips curve into a smirk. “Maybe I’ll just sit here and get myself off while you watch, completely helpless.”

A desperate whine escapes Louis’ throat. That’s the last thing he wants.

Harry chuckles darkly but doesn’t give him a chance to protest. Instead, he leans down and sinks his teeth into Louis’ bond mark, making him cry out.

“You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” Harry murmurs against his throat. He drags his tongue over the bruised skin before trailing lower, nosing along Louis’ chest. “You couldn’t have just one alpha, could you? One alpha just wouldn’t be enough for your needy little cunt. You need all three of us—three big, fat cocks to satisfy you. How greedy.”

Louis whines, his back arching off the bed. The words shouldn’t turn him on as much as they do, but he can’t help it.

Harry chuckles knowingly, then dips lower, sucking one of Louis’ nipples into his mouth.

Louis cries out.

The sensitivity is so much worse than usual. The moment Harry’s tongue flicks over the bud, pleasure shoots straight to his core, making his whole body jolt.

Harry hums against his skin, pulling away just enough to murmur, “You’re more responsive than usual, baby.” He flicks his tongue over the other nipple, smirking when Louis whimpers. “Maybe you really are pregnant.”

Louis freezes and his breath catches, his mind racing. He hadn’t actually thought about it—not seriously. But hearing it aloud, after what Anne said, terrifies him.

Harry doesn’t stop. He nips at his swollen nipple before soothing it with a slow, wet lick.

“Imagine that,” he muses. “Our first shared cycle together, and you’re already carrying. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being all round and full with our pups? Walking around campus with a belly full of alpha seed, letting everyone know exactly what we did to you?”

Louis shudders.

When Harry puts it like that, the idea of pregnancy doesn’t sound nearly as terrifying.

The alpha pulls back, eyes glinting mischievously. “Tell you what, baby. If you can come just from me playing with your nipples, I’ll give you my cock.”

Louis’ lips part. He’s never had a nipple orgasm before, doesn’t even know if he’s capable of it—but before he even processes the challenge, he’s nodding, desperate.

“Yes, alpha.”

And then Harry is on him, his mouth latching onto a nipple with fervor, sucking and lapping with relentless intensity. His fingers pinch and roll the other bud, switching between them with practiced ease.

Louis whimpers, taking everything his alpha gives him. It’s overwhelming, teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain, and he doesn’t know if he wants to push him away or beg for more.

The build-up is different this time—deeper, heavier. He feels it everywhere, pulsing through his veins, pooling low in his stomach. His legs fall open instinctively, his body offering itself up before his mind can catch up.

His mouth falls open in a silent scream as the orgasm crashes over him, leaving him shuddering beneath Harry’s weight. When he blinks his eyes open, he finds Harry has sat up and is staring, utterly transfixed.

“So fucking fascinating,” Harry murmurs, his voice thick with awe. His eyes stay locked on Louis’ cunt. “Watching you come like this… your whole pussy just contracts, desperate to be filled.”

Louis barely hears him, too caught up in the aftershocks, his hips rolling involuntarily. When Harry’s fingertip brushes his clit, his legs snap shut, the overstimulation sending sharp tremors through him.

Harry clicks his tongue, prying them back open as he settles between them. “You have to keep these spread, baby.”

Louis watches through hazy eyes as Harry lowers himself and inhales deeply at his stomach. His expression shifts—something flickers behind his gaze, something intense.

Louis frowns, his brows knitting together. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

But Harry just grins, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his stomach. “Nothing, omega,” he hums, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes.

Louis wants to ask more, but before he can, Harry shifts, dragging the head of his cock through his slick lips. The sensation sends sparks up his spine, and he grinds his hips down, desperate for him.

“Alpha, please—”

His plea is cut off with a sharp slap to his clit. He cries out, hips jerking, pleasure laced with the sting.

“Greedy boys don’t get rewarded with cock,” Harry chastises, though he keeps rubbing himself against Louis’ dripping hole, teasing him mercilessly.

Louis is too far gone to care about the reprimand—he just needs. He gasps when he finally gets what he wants as Harry suddenly thrusts in, stretching him wide, filling him completely in one smooth stroke.

Harry doesn’t give him a second to adjust before he starts moving, setting a merciless pace. Louis has no choice but to take it, his body molding to the force of each deep, punishing thrust.

Then Harry leans down, chest flush against his, and his large hand wraps around Louis’ throat.

Louis keens, slick pouring from him as Harry squeezes, restricting his airflow just enough to make his head spin.

“You’re such a good little omega,” Harry growls, his voice dark and dripping with possession. “Taking it so well. You like being a slut, don’t you?” His grip tightens slightly. “Like being our little whore, letting me and my brothers use this pretty pussy whenever we want?”

Louis moans, his body trembling, his cunt clenching desperately around Harry’s cock.

Harry loosens his grip just enough for Louis to suck in a shaky breath, only to have it knocked right out of him with the next brutal thrust.

“I’m gonna knot you, baby,” Harry warns, his pace never faltering. “And you don’t get to come until I’m fully inside you. Be good, or I’ll put you over my knee and spank this sweet little ass raw again.”

Louis whimpers but nods, forcing himself to hold back, his muscles tight with anticipation.

Harry continues to work his cock in and out of him, holding the back of Louis’ knees, keeping him spread while he abuses his hole. 

The stretch burns when Harry’s knot starts to swell, locking him in place, but the relief is instant—finally, finally. Louis shudders as he feels hot spurts of come fill him, his alpha claiming him in every possible way.

Harry groans, pressing a palm over Louis’ bond mark as he squeezes and his other hand finds his clit, working it ruthlessly.

“Come for me, omega,” he murmurs, voice thick with praise. “Be a good boy and come for your alpha.”

Louis shatters, tensing so hard he sees stars, his body squeezing around Harry’s knot, milking every last drop from him.

Harry doesn’t stop touching him until Louis is twitching, too sensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally pull back, rubbing soothing circles over his thighs.

Louis’ mind is hazy, his body floating. A warmth spreads through him, soft and consuming, but his head feels light—too light.

He barely registers Harry untying his wrists, pressing gentle kisses to the reddened skin. His alpha murmurs something, but Louis is already slipping under, the world fading away as he surrenders to the drop.

***

Louis’ day with Harry had been intense—but incredible. After dropping, he’d come out of it in a daze, feeling warm and weightless. By then, Harry’s knot had gone down, and the alpha had already cleaned him up, tucking a blanket over him with careful hands.

Louis had smiled, his heart full, because even after thoroughly dominating him, Harry had turned soft, doting on him in that way only he could.

Later, Harry had ordered burgers and fries for dinner, and they’d curled up together, eating while watching New Girl. It was easy, comfortable—the perfect way to end the night.

That had been a few days ago, and Louis was supposed to have had his turn with Marcel by now. Unfortunately, between homework and studying—especially for their shared physics class—they hadn’t found the time to just be.

But they finally had a plan. This Saturday, they were setting aside the entire day for each other. No schoolwork, no distractions—just them.

Louis couldn’t wait. He missed spending quality time with Marcel. Lately, it felt like their only moments together were spent buried in textbooks, or with Marcel off tutoring other students.

Saturday, though? Saturday, Marcel was his.

***

Louis watches as Marcel firmly ushers his brothers out of the dorm around noon. Edward and Harry put up a token protest, whining a little, but they don’t truly resist. They know their brother hasn’t had his alone time with their omega yet, so they go willingly enough.

As soon as the door shuts, Marcel turns with a triumphant grin and hops into bed, pulling Louis into his arms.

Louis laughs, melting into the embrace. “So, what’s on the agenda today? Besides you eating me out,” he teases, arching a brow.

Marcel huffs a laugh, tilting his head. “A little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Louis smirks. “Maybe. But I’d say it’s a safe bet. Pretty sure you could spend all fucking day with your head between my thighs and not get bored.”

Marcel hums, smiling. “You’re not wrong.”

Louis grins. “So, any actual plans?”

“Not really,” Marcel admits. “I was thinking we could go to the beach.”

Louis gives him a skeptical look. “It’s sixty degrees, Marcie. And cloudy.”

Marcel chuckles. “Not to swim, silly. Just to lay out, grab some food, talk, and watch the waves.”

Louis’ expression softens, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “I like that idea.”

***

Louis and Marcel had just settled onto the blanket spread across the sand, the rhythmic crash of waves filling the quiet space between them. The breeze was light but crisp, making Louis grateful for the oversized dark green hoodie he was pretty sure belonged to Harry. Marcel had opted for a light gray sweater, and for once, he hadn’t slicked his hair back. His natural curls were free, soft and slightly tousled by the wind. If not for the glasses, Louis thought, he could have easily mistaken him for Edward.

They’d picked up sandwiches from a local deli before coming out here. Marcel had suggested sushi, and normally, Louis would never turn that down, but for some reason, the thought of a rainbow roll had made his stomach turn today.

As he unwraps his sandwich, he glances at Marcel and asks, “What’s it like being an alpha?”

Marcel looks amused. “What do you mean?”

“Like… what does it feel like?” Louis clarifies. “I’m curious.”

Marcel takes a moment to think before answering. “It’s like… this constant need to protect. The very idea of letting you down or not taking care of you properly? That could send me into a panic attack.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “The strength and confidence that comes with it is nice, but there are downsides too.”

“Like what?” Louis asks, taking a bite of his turkey sandwich.

“There’s always this expectation to live up to,” Marcel admits.  “You have to be tough enough, tall enough, alpha enough. And it’s even harder when you have two identical brothers.”

Louis frowns. “What do you mean?”

Marcel sighs.  “I always felt like the inferior one. Sure, I’m the smartest, but in school, that didn’t really matter. What mattered was who was the most popular. And Harry and Edward? They always were. They’re social butterflies. Meanwhile, I’ve always been the opposite.”

Louis softens, reaching out to press a kiss to Marcel’s cheek. “Well, I love you for exactly who you are.”

Marcel hummed, his lips curling into a smile. “I love you too. See? Being an alpha has its perks when I got to bond an omega as perfect as you.”

Louis laughs. “Yeah? So, tell me—what does knotting feel like?”

Marcel chuckles, leaning back on his hands. “At first, it stings when it inflates, especially during a rut. But as soon as you start coming, the sting fades.”

Louis hums in thought before Marcel tilts his head. “What about you? What does being an omega feel like?”

Louis hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “It’s like… the thought of disobeying you, Harry, or Edward would physically hurt me. Like there’s this deep, ingrained need to please, not just in bed but in everyday life with everyone.”

Marcel winces. “That sounds exhausting.”

Louis shrugs. “It has its perks too. I’ve gotten more than my fair share of free drinks and even talked my way out of tickets just by baring a little throat and batting my lashes.” He grins, then laughs. “But there’s always the worry about alphas trying to take advantage.”

Marcel frowns. “I’m sorry, Lou. That you have to go through that.”

Louis shakes his head, smiling. “Not anymore. Having three bond bites on my neck is basically my own personal creep repellent.”

Marcel grins. “As it should be.” The alpha gazes at him, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Louis’ ear. “You know, I really like this.”

Louis tilts his head. “What, the beach?”

“Well, yeah, but more than that. Just… this. Spending time with you, talking. No distractions, no school stress, no brothers barging in.” Marcel smirks. “Just you and me.”

Louis’ expression softens. “I like it too. I feel like we don’t get this enough.”

Marcel nods. “We should make more time for it.”

Louis hums, leaning back on his elbows as he gazes out at the water. The waves roll in, the salty air filling his lungs, and for a moment, everything feels peaceful.

“Still thinking about marine biology?” Marcel asks, wrapping his arms securely around Louis and pulling him close. His chest is warm against Louis’ back, a solid, comforting weight as they watch the waves roll in.

Louis exhales, his fingers idly playing with the hem of his hoodie. “I don’t know. I love the ocean, love marine life, but making it my whole life? That’s a different thing.”

Marcel presses a soft kiss to Louis’ hair, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once. You’re allowed to take your time, to change your mind. No matter what, we’ll always be here to support you.”

Louis smiles at that, turning slightly to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” Marcel squeezes his waist.

They fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the rhythmic crash of the waves. Louis leans further into Marcel, feeling content.

Then, with a smirk, he asks, “What do you think Harry and Edward are doing right now?”

Marcel snorts. “Probably fucking in Harry’s car.”

Louis bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, you think?”

Marcel shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Louis shakes his head, still grinning, but then curiosity gets the best of him. “Okay, but how does that work? Being an alpha and getting fucked by another alpha? Doesn’t it, I don’t know, feel emasculating or something?”

Marcel lifts a brow, amused. “‘Emasculating’? Really?”

Louis nudges him with his elbow. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Marcel sighs, considering. “I guess if it were another alpha outside of us, maybe it would feel different. But with Harry and Edward? We’ve been helping each other through ruts since our first one. It’s just… second nature.”

Louis watches him carefully. “So it’s not about dominance?”

Marcel shakes his head. “Not at all. It’s about relief. And we just like it. It does hurt since we’re not exactly built for it, but we can handle it.” A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “And, you know, we do have prostates.”

Louis giggles, biting his lip. “Well, that’s fair.”

Marcel gives him a pointed look. “You are awfully interested in how alphas take dick, though.”

Louis gasps, scandalized. “I was just asking a question!”

Marcel smirks. “Sure you were.”

Louis pouts for a second, then suddenly grins. “Well, if they’re fucking, I think it’s only fair that we do too.”

Marcel chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, is that how this works? Gotta keep the playing field even?”

“Exactly.” Louis shifts in Marcel’s lap, turning so he’s straddling his hips. Their faces are close, breaths mingling. Louis tilts his head and brushes their lips together in a slow, teasing kiss.

Marcel hums, his hands settling on Louis’ waist. Louis loves kissing him—his lips are the softest of the three, and he always takes his time, never in a rush, like he could kiss Louis forever if given the chance.

“Let’s go back to the dorm,” Marcel murmurs against his mouth.

Louis giggles, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Why? You don’t want to take a page out of Edward’s book and fuck me right here?”

Marcel laughs, shaking his head. “Tempting, but considering I really want you to sit on my face, I don’t think we’d be subtle enough for that in public.” He tilts his head, eyes flickering past Louis. “Especially if we don’t want to traumatize that elderly couple over there.”

Louis follows his gaze and sure enough, there’s a couple fishing nearby, eyeing them suspiciously.

He bites his lip to stifle a laugh. “Fine,” he sighs, feigning exasperation. Then he smirks, running his hands up Marcel’s chest. “But only because you promised I get to sit on your face.”

***

Louis had been so excited at the prospect of sitting on Marcel’s face earlier. The mere thought of it had made his skin tingle and his stomach coil with anticipation. But now that they’re back in the dorm, both of them naked, with him straddling the alpha’s broad chest, he’s suddenly feeling nervous.

He hesitates, biting his lip as he looks down at Marcel. Without his glasses, he looks nearly identical to Edward—minus the tattoos. It’s unsettling in a way, but Louis reminds himself that it’s Marcel beneath him, the same alpha who holds him close and kisses him soft and slow.

“Are you sure about this?” Louis asks, shifting slightly. “I don’t want to, you know… suffocate you.”

Marcel’s lips twitch into an easy grin. “I wouldn’t want to die any other way.”

Louis huffs, giving him a pointed look.

Marcel sighs, more amused than exasperated. “Louis, you weigh, like, nothing. If I was actually struggling, I’d just push you off. Promise.”

Louis searches his face for any sign of uncertainty, but all he finds is unshaken confidence and want. He exhales, relenting, and slowly scoots up, his thighs tightening around Marcel’s head as he hovers just over his mouth. A shiver rolls through him as he realizes how exposed he is—how wet he already is. His slick leaves a glistening trail down the alpha’s chest.

Before he can dwell on his nerves, Marcel grips his hips and pulls him down.

Louis gasps, his fingers digging into the alpha’s soft curls as Marcel licks up into him, his tongue broad and hungry. He moans, his breath hitching as he fights the urge to pull away from the intensity of it.

Marcel hums against him, the vibration sending little shocks of pleasure through Louis’ cunt. He flicks his tongue against his clit, teasing it with light, quick licks before taking it into his mouth and sucking, over and over, relentless and devoted.

Louis lets out a choked whimper, his hips jerking involuntarily. He needs something to hold onto, something to ground him, so he tightens his grip in Marcel’s hair, careful not to tug too hard.

The alpha only pulls him in tighter, his tongue pressing into him with deliberate strokes, his nose rubbing perfectly against his swollen clit. Louis’ thighs tremble as the pleasure builds faster than he anticipated, each pass of Marcel’s tongue sending sparks up his spine.

His breath hitches when he glances behind him, his eyes landing on Marcel’s cock—thick, flushed, and leaking precome onto his stomach. The sight alone makes his mouth water. He needs it.

With a soft moan, Louis pries Marcel’s hands off his hips and shifts up onto his knees, looking down at the alpha’s slick-covered mouth.

“I wasn’t done,” Marcel pouts, his voice rough.

Louis smirks, running a finger over the mess coating the alpha’s lips before bringing it to his own mouth and sucking it clean. “Neither was I.”

Marcel growls, his hands already reaching for him as Louis turns around and straddles his face again—this time facing his cock.

The second he settles, Marcel yanks him back down, his tongue immediately flicking incessantly against his clit. The angle has his nose pressing directly against his slick hole, making Louis whine as his whole body shudders.

But he tries to focus. 

Leaning forward, he wraps a hand around Marcel’s cock, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive tip before lowering his mouth to swirl his tongue around it. The alpha groans against him, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through Louis’ pussy.

Louis takes as much of him as he can, sucking and licking until spit dribbles down his chin, trailing down Marcel’s dick and down his balls.

The hands on his ass squeeze, spreading him wider, and Louis moans around Marcel’s cock as he bobs his head. His thighs twitch as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, Marcel’s tongue never once relenting against his clit.

His orgasm builds fast, curling tight in his stomach. He pulls off Marcel’s cock with a wet gasp, opting to stroke him instead as he pants, “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna come.”

Marcel only hums in acknowledgment, his pace never faltering. His tongue flicks faster, his lips closing around Louis’ clit as he suckles, and it’s too much.

Louis cries out, his whole body tensing as his orgasm crashes over him. His hips grind down against Marcel’s mouth, his thighs trembling, his hole spasming as slick gushes onto the alpha’s tongue.

Marcel groans, licking him through the aftershocks, savoring every drop of slick spilling onto his tongue.

Louis tries to lift up, too sensitive to take any more, but Marcel doesn’t let him go. He keeps him firmly in place, his tongue lazily lapping at his clit, sending little jolts of overstimulation through Louis’ spent body.

“Come on, Marcie,” Louis whimpers, his voice breathy. “I want you in me.”

Marcel places a final, lingering kiss against his clit before finally loosening his grip. Louis shifts up onto shaky legs, his breath still uneven. When he looks down, he nearly gawks—Marcel’s whole face is soaked.

“Holy shit,” Louis breathes.

Marcel grins up at him, licking his lips. “You get really wet. It’s so fucking hot.” His hands slide up Louis’ thighs, squeezing. “Now, come on. Get on my dick.”

Louis doesn’t need to be told twice.

He scrambles to obey, settling onto Marcel’s lap and wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. With a slow inhale, he sinks down, his walls stretching to accommodate the thick length pressing into him.

A shuddery moan slips from his lips. No matter how many times they do this, it always feels so fucking good. So full.

Marcel groans, his hands gripping Louis’ hips. “Fuck, kitten.”

Louis rocks against him, savoring the stretch, the warmth, the way the alpha fits inside him perfectly.

Then Marcel smirks, glancing down at where they’re connected. “You know, you’d look good with a bush.”

Louis lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah? You want me to go full seventies on you?”

“Mmhmm.” Marcel trails a lazy hand up his thigh. “Then I can search for your clit like buried treasure.”

Louis snorts, shaking his head. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“Or,” Marcel continues, grinning, “you could go for a landing strip. A classic. Ooh—or a heart. That’d be cute.”

Louis hums, pretending to consider. “I’ll let it grow out and then surprise you, okay?”

Marcel’s eyes brighten. “Really?”

“Yeah. But only if you stop talking about my pussy hair and fuck me already.”

Marcel grins. “Deal.”

Then he plants his feet on the bed and snaps his hips up, thrusting into Louis with purpose.

Louis lets out a sharp cry, going pliant in Marcel’s grip as the alpha pounds into him, his balls slapping against his ass with every thrust.

He barely registers the passage of time, too caught up in the way Marcel fills him perfectly, in the way the pleasure builds again so fast.

He feels the alpha’s knot swelling with each thrust, a feeling that reminds him of their conversation earlier.

“Do you feel that sting now?” Louis asks, his voice unsteady from how hard Marcel is fucking him.

Marcel huffs out a breathless chuckle, his grip tightening on Louis’ hips. “Yeah, it’s there,” he admits, his voice rough with pleasure. “But fuck, it feels good. You’re so warm and tight and wet.”

Louis barely has time to register the words before Marcel thrusts up one last time, knot locking into place with a deep, satisfying stretch. The sudden pressure sends Louis spiraling, his own orgasm crashing over him as the friction of Marcel’s pelvis against his clit tips him over the edge.

Marcel groans as he spills inside him, soothing a hand over Louis’ back while pressing soft kisses into his hair.

Louis feels weightless, almost dreamlike, his body thrumming with satisfaction. He’s barely conscious of the world around him, teetering on the edge of dropping. 

And then, distantly, he hears the door open.

He barely has the strength to lift his head, but then—

“Damn,” Edward drawls, amusement thick in his voice. “What a sight to come home to.”

Louis pries his eyes open, dazed and thoroughly fucked out, only to find Edward and Harry lounging on Harry’s bed, watching them with identical smirks.

Marcel groans. “Weren’t you supposed to let us have the whole day together?”

“Um,” Harry says, glancing at his phone, “it’s eight-thirty.”

Marcel blinks. “Huh. Guess time flies when you have such a pretty, eager omega to take care of.”

Harry and Edward laugh, but Edward eyes Louis more carefully. “You alright, baby?”

Louis manages a sleepy smile. He’s too cock drunk to do anything else. “Mmm.”

“Damn, Marce,” Harry chuckles. “You really did a number on him.”

Louis cracks an eye open. “Like you did on my ass last week.”

“You got me there,” Harry grins, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Louis watches them with tired amusement, his body still heavy and satisfied against Marcel’s chest. He feels boneless, completely spent, but his mind is still lazily processing the moment—how easy this is between all of them, how natural.

“So, what did you guys get up to today?” Edward asks, stretching his legs out on the bed.

“We went to the beach,” Marcel answers, absentmindedly tracing patterns along Louis’ back. The light touch soothes him, grounding him in the warmth of the alpha’s body beneath him. “I suggested sushi for lunch, but someone insisted on sandwiches instead.” He tilts his head toward Louis, and Louis forces his heavy eyes open.

Edward frowns at him. “But you love sushi. You’re always in the mood for it.”

Louis barely has time to process the comment before Harry makes a knowing noise, something smug and amused. Louis blinks at him, a little too dazed to pick up on what the alpha is clearly hinting at. He shrugs instead, not bothering to question it.

“But mostly, we just talked and watched the waves,” Marcel adds, his voice soft, like he’s still basking in the quiet intimacy of their day together.

Louis huffs, lips curling into a sleepy smirk. “And apparently, Edward’s the only one who will fuck me in public.”

Edward laughs outright, shaking his head. Harry rolls his eyes. Marcel groans beneath him.

“I would have—if we wouldn’t have been arrested for public indecency by that old couple.”

Louis lets out a dramatic sigh, but he can’t even pretend to be that disappointed. His body still thrums with satisfaction, his muscles loose and relaxed from how thoroughly Marcel had taken care of him. He shifts slightly, adjusting against the alpha’s chest, and immediately feels the tug of his knot still locking them together. A soft moan escapes him before he can stop it.

“So, what did you guys do today?” he asks, his voice sleep-heavy and laced with contentment.

Harry grins, flopping back onto the bed beside Edward. “We gave each other blowies in the back of my car and then got dinner at that new Indian place on 56th Street.”

Louis snickers, turning his head to glance at Marcel. The alpha meets his gaze, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Told you. Do I know my brothers or do I know my brothers?”

“What?” Edward asks, confused, his brows furrowing.

“Oh, nothing,” Marcel chuckles, clearly enjoying himself.

Louis looks between them all, taking them in—the way Harry is sprawled across the bed like he belongs there, the easy smirk on Edward’s face, the warmth radiating from Marcel beneath him. Something swells in his chest, something deep and overwhelming. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected to feel this when he first let them into his life.

He’d always assumed relationships like this were complicated, full of jealousy and insecurity. But this? This is something else entirely. He doesn’t feel divided between them. He feels held by them. Cherished. Adored.

And suddenly, his eyes sting.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Marcel’s thumb brushes against his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

“Why are you crying, kitten?” Marcel asks softly, concern in his voice.

Louis sniffles, letting out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you three. You’re all so perfect, and I guess I got a little emotional.”

Harry watches him closely, and there it is again—that look. Like he knows something Louis doesn’t. Like he’s holding a secret just waiting to be spilled.

Louis narrows his eyes at him. “What? Do you have something to share, Harold?”

Harry grins, throwing his hands up in surrender. “All in good time, my love.”

Louis groans, rolling his eyes even as more tears spill over. He’s exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. But he’s never felt safer. Never felt fuller.

Marcel hums, running a hand through his hair, his fingers working through the strands in slow, soothing strokes. “Sleep, omega. You’re tired and overwhelmed.”

Louis knows he’s right. His body is too heavy to fight it, sinking further into Marcel’s warmth as exhaustion tugs at him. His last thought before slipping under is what the hell is Harry up to?

***

Louis will be so relieved when he finally graduates in a few months and never has to sit through another economics lecture again. He doesn’t care what anyone says—no class should be this dull. He’s lost count of how many times he’s nearly fallen asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open while the old beta professor drones on about market structures and supply-demand curves.

The only thing making it remotely bearable is them.

Harry and Edward sit on either side of him, each with a grounding hand on his thigh or the back of his neck, warm and possessive. Their touch keeps him tethered, stops him from fully slipping into unconsciousness, even if their presence also makes it harder to focus. Louis likes this, though—being tucked safely between them, their attention on him even when they’re supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. It makes him feel cherished. Kept.

Which is where he is now, slouched between his alphas, barely listening as the professor drones on.

“I’ve never experienced a class this fucking boring in my whole life,” he mutters under his breath.

The brothers chuckle, their hands squeezing his thighs in silent agreement.

“Only three more months,” Harry murmurs.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Can’t come fast enough.”

He shifts in his seat, trying to get comfortable, but something feels off. It starts subtly—a lightheaded sensation, like he’s been sitting too long and just needs to stretch. But then it grows, spreading through him in slow, creeping waves. His head starts spinning, and his stomach churns with a sickening unease that puts him immediately on edge.

He swallows hard, trying to ignore it, willing himself to push through the rest of class. But it’s getting worse. His skin feels clammy, and the dizziness makes it hard to focus on anything but the growing nausea twisting in his gut.

Harry and Edward tense beside him, sensing his distress through the bond. They both turn toward him, their voices overlapping in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Louis barely registers their words before his body makes the decision for him. He bolts up from his seat, staggering toward the door, barely managing to clap a hand over his mouth as he stumbles into the hallway. His legs feel unsteady beneath him, but sheer desperation keeps him moving.

The moment he reaches the nearest omega bathroom, he drops to his knees in front of the toilet and wretches violently. His whole body shudders as his stomach empties itself, bile burning up his throat. His eyes sting with tears, his breath coming in ragged gasps as another wave hits him.

When it finally stops, he slumps back against the stall, weak and exhausted. His skin is damp with sweat, and his throat feels raw from the acid. He takes a moment to just breathe, relieved that no one else is in the bathroom to witness his misery.

Then, a soft knock sounds at the door.

“Lou?” One of his alphas—Harry, by the sound of it—calls out. “Are you alright?”

Louis swallows against the awful taste in his mouth, clearing his throat before managing a hoarse, “Yeah.”

He doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself.

Slowly, he pushes himself up from the floor, gripping the sink for support. His hands are trembling, but he forces himself to turn on the faucet, cupping cold water to his lips in a weak attempt to rinse the bitterness from his mouth. When he finally looks up, he flinches at his own reflection.

He looks awful. Pale, his skin washed out and sickly, with dark circles standing out even more beneath his tired eyes. He presses his lips together, shaking his head slightly before pushing open the door.

Harry and Edward are waiting just outside, identical looks of concern on their faces. The moment they see him, Edward steps forward, pulling him into a firm embrace.

“What happened, baby?” he asks, his voice gentle.

Louis sinks into him, resting his forehead against the solid warmth of his chest. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “I just felt dizzy, and then I suddenly had to throw up.”

Harry’s hand rubs soothing circles over his back. “But you’re okay now?”

Louis nods, though he still feels drained. “Yeah. The dizziness is gone, but I feel really weak.”

Harry presses a kiss to the top of his head before pulling back. “Ed, take him back to the dorm and make sure he rests. I’m gonna grab something real quick, and then I’ll meet you there.”

Edward doesn’t hesitate, shifting to scoop Louis up effortlessly. Louis doesn’t even bother protesting—he’s too tired to argue, and honestly, he doesn’t want to walk right now.

Instead, he tucks himself closer, closing his eyes as Edward carries him out of the building. He doesn’t know what just happened to him, but all he wants now is to be curled up with his alphas, safe and warm.

***

Louis brushes his teeth before letting Edward tuck him into their nest, his body immediately seeking comfort in the alpha’s hold. The moment he’s wrapped in Edward’s warmth, he sighs, the tension in his shoulders lessening, but the unease in his stomach remains, a twisting knot of anxiety he can’t quite shake.

“Maybe it was something I ate,” Louis murmurs, nuzzling into Edward’s neck, breathing in his scent in a desperate attempt to settle himself.

“Probably,” Edward hums, his large hand rubbing steady circles into Louis’ back. “You know, if you wanted to get out of class that bad, you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to go and make yourself sick.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but the teasing helps ground him, if only for a moment. He nips at Edward’s nipple through his shirt in retaliation, making the alpha yelp.

“Oi! Rude,” Edward grumbles, squeezing him tighter in response.

Louis huffs a small laugh, but the momentary amusement fades as another wave of nausea rolls through him. His mind is running in circles, grasping at every possible explanation other than that one. Because it can’t be that. It just can’t.

“Did you tell Marcel?” he asks, voice quieter now.

“Yes, baby. He should be here any second,” Edward murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.

The alpha holds him close, pressing soft kisses to his temple, his cheek, the curve of his neck. His lips linger over Louis’ bonding spot, licking over it in a way that soothes him instinctually. His inner omega should be comforted by it. Normally, he would be.

But there’s still that nagging worry sitting heavy in his gut, whispering things he doesn’t want to hear.

The door opens, and both Harry and Marcel step inside. Marcel is at his side in an instant, his brows furrowed in concern as he crouches next to the nest.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing the back of his hand over Louis’ forehead before tilting his chin up, his sharp eyes scanning Louis’ face as if trying to solve a puzzle.

Louis forces a small laugh. “I’m fine, Marcie,” he insists, but doesn’t pull away as Marcel continues his silent assessment.

His attention shifts to Harry, who’s standing a few feet away, holding a small plastic grocery bag. Something about it makes Louis uneasy.

“Where did you go?” he asks, watching warily as Harry reaches into the bag.

“The convenience store down the way,” Harry says easily. “To get this.”

He pulls out a pink and white box.

Louis’ stomach drops.

His breath catches, a sharp inhale that feels like it might choke him. The room tilts for a second, and suddenly, he feels too hot, like he can’t breathe properly.

Oh, fuck.

He knows exactly what Harry’s holding.

His entire body goes still, his mind slamming into denial with the force of a freight train. He refuses to believe this. He refuses to even consider it.

Still, his voice comes out weak when he asks, “What is that?”

Harry gives him a knowing look. “You know what it is, Lou.”

Louis glances desperately at Edward and Marcel, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but all he sees is confusion, their own panic just beginning to take root.

“Why do you think Louis is pregnant?” Edward asks, eyes flickering between his brothers.

Harry huffs, like this is all so obvious, like he expected them to put the pieces together already. “Oh, come on, it’s not fucking rocket science, Eddie. But, I mean, I’m not surprised you didn’t catch on. No offense, but you can be a little ditsy.”

Edward just shrugs, unbothered.

“But you, Marcel,” Harry continues, turning toward him. “I thought you would’ve noticed. Then again, you might be the smart one, but I’ve always been the most in tune with my instincts.”

Louis is barely listening anymore. His pulse is a pounding drum in his ears, his breathing shallow and uneven. He wants to scream, wants to shut this down before it can go any further, but he can’t seem to find his voice.

“What are you even talking about?!” he finally chokes out, panic creeping into his tone.

Harry softens slightly, but his voice carries an undeniable weight when he says, “Louis, lay down.”

Louis’ breath stutters. His body reacts before his mind can catch up, instinct responding to the subtle alpha command. His limbs feel heavy as he sinks back against the pillows, dread coiling in his chest.

“Edward, Marcel—lift up his shirt and take a deep whiff of his stomach.”

A deep whiff.

Louis’ stomach clenches.

His heart races as the two alphas exchange glances before obeying. Marcel’s hands tremble slightly as he pushes up the fabric of Louis’ shirt, exposing his warm, tanned skin. Edward leans down first, pressing his nose just above Louis’ navel, inhaling deeply. Marcel follows.

The room is quiet except for the sound of their sniffing.

Louis stares down at them, his entire body tense. His fingers dig into the blankets beneath him, knuckles white. He can’t even breathe as he watches their eyes slowly widen, realization sinking in.

They lift their heads in unison, looking at each other, then turning to Harry.

Harry smirks. “Told you.”

“Fuck, how did we miss that?” Edward breathes.

“He didn’t want sushi. The day of the beach,” Marcel murmurs, eyes dark with realization. “You always want sushi.”

Louis feels like the floor has been ripped out from under him.

“No,” he whispers, his entire body shaking as he pushes himself up. “No, I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t be.”

“Baby,” Harry says gently, kneeling in front of him. “You spent your heat—our rut—with three healthy, young alphas. We came in you a lot. It’s not exactly shocking that at least one of our swimmers made it through.”

“No,” Louis gasps, shaking his head violently. “I’m on birth control. I can’t be pregnant.” His voice wobbles, eyes burning. The panic is too much. “I just can’t be.”

Harry reaches for him, placing a steadying hand on his knee. He waits until Louis looks at him before speaking, voice soft but firm.

“Look, baby. I know this is scary, and it’s a lot to take in. But we need to know for sure. The only way to do that is if you take the test.”

Louis swallows thickly, his entire body trembling. He wants to argue, to deny it further, but deep down, he knows there’s only one way to be sure.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, “Will you come with me?”

“Of course, kitten. We’ll all come with you,” Marcel says, helping him to his feet.

His legs feel unsteady as they guide him toward the bathroom. His thoughts are a whirlwind—fear, disbelief, confusion, hope, dread.

The alpha dorms don’t have omega bathrooms, only alphas’, but that doesn’t matter—his mates stand guard outside the stall, their presence a comfort as Louis shakily unpacks the test.

His hands tremble as he uncaps it. He’s never done this before, and the awkwardness of positioning it correctly beneath him only adds to his stress. He tries to relax, but—

“I can’t pee,” he groans, frustration bubbling over. “I’m too nervous.”

“I thought you might say that.” Harry’s hand appears under the stall door, holding a plastic water bottle. “Drink the whole thing. You probably need it after throwing up earlier.”

Louis sighs but takes the bottle, gulping it down in one go. The plastic crinkles as he drains it, rolling it back under the stall when he’s done.

He takes a deep breath, focusing on the slight pressure now pressing against his bladder. This time, when he tries, he manages to let go, urine hitting the test stick.

Once he’s done, he caps it and places it on the toilet paper dispenser. He wipes, pulls his pants back up, and finally, with shaky hands, picks up the test and steps out of the stall.

His alphas are waiting, their eyes immediately dropping to the test in his grip.

“It says it takes two minutes for the result to show,” Louis murmurs.

Two minutes.

Two agonizing minutes before his entire life could change.

“Let’s go back to the dorm,” Louis says, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip tightens around the test, but he still refuses to look at it. “I don’t want to find out in a stinky alpha bathroom.”

The triplets don’t question him. They just guide him back, their hands on the small of his back, their warmth surrounding him like a protective shield.

By the time they reach their dorm, Louis feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin. He sinks into their nest, curling his legs beneath him, the test clutched tightly in his hands. His breath comes in uneven bursts, his chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow.

“I’m scared,” he admits, his voice trembling. He looks between his alphas, searching their faces for something—reassurance, understanding, an anchor in the storm raging inside him. Their expressions are identical: a mixture of love, concern, and something else—something deeper.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re here for you. No matter what,” Edward murmurs, his voice soft, steady.

Louis nods, swallowing hard. He forces himself to take a deep breath, then another. His fingers unfurl slowly, hesitantly, until the test rests in his open palm.

He looks down. And the world stops.

A little red plus.

Positive.

He’s pregnant.

His lungs forget how to function. His mind blanks. His body feels frozen, stuck in this single, irreversible moment.

A hand rubs soothing circles on his back, but he barely registers the touch. Even as the triplets lean in to see the result for themselves, even as Marcel breathes out a stunned, “Oh my god, Louis. You’re actually pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant,” Louis whispers, the words tasting foreign on his tongue, unreal.

Before he can spiral any further, Harry scoops him into his lap, cupping his face between warm, steady hands. “Look, Lou, I know this is a lot. You’re feeling a million things right now. Talk to us. Tell us what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

Louis flounders, searching for the right words, but all that spills out is a choked, “I—I don’t know.” He shakes his head, blinking rapidly against the sting in his eyes. “I’m too young to be pregnant. I always imagined having kids after college, after I had a stable job, after—” His breath shudders. “I’m just not ready.”

Harry presses their foreheads together. “It’s okay, omega. It’s okay not to be ready.” His voice is gentle, careful. “You do have… options.”

Louis knows what he’s implying, but he’s already shaking his head before Harry even finishes speaking. “I know. But I want to keep them.” His hand instinctively drifts to his stomach, resting there as if the life inside him is something fragile, something real. “As much as I’m scared and not ready, I’m carrying your pups. I just—” he exhales sharply, “I just have to get used to it.”

Silence hangs between them, heavy, uncertain.

Then, Edward clears his throat. “I know it’s an intense time, and we should be, like, having a deep moment right now, but…” He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks slightly pink. “Knowing you’re carrying our pups is really fucking hot.”

“Edward!” Marcel hisses, smacking him upside the head. “Read the room!”

Despite everything, a startled laugh bursts from Louis, wet and shaky but real. He wipes at his tears, still sniffling as he mutters, “It’s alright. If I had to get knocked up, I’m glad it’s with you three. My mates.”

Their faces soften instantly. Edward and Marcel press kisses to his cheeks, while Harry captures his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

Louis exhales, a small, wobbly smile creeping onto his face. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

The triplets grin at him, their voices overlapping as they say in unison, “We really are.”

Louis groans, dropping his forehead onto Harry’s shoulder. “Oh, my god. Even now? Do you have to say things at the same time?”

The triplets laugh, and for the first time since seeing that little red plus, Louis feels something like certainty settling in his chest.

***

Louis has never liked going to the doctor.

As a kid—especially as a switch—he spent more time in doctors’ offices than most. Routine checkups to make sure he was developing like other male omegas, endless questions about his secondary sex characteristics, tests and more tests. Then there were the less routine visits: getting on birth control at fourteen to regulate his heats, the absolute horror of his first Pap smear. That had been humiliating in ways he still cringes to remember.

And now, here he is, lying on an exam table, staring up at the ceiling as he prepares for yet another deeply personal appointment. His first pregnancy visit.

At least Dr. Miller is familiar. She’s been his OBGYN since he started birth control, and she’s always been kind. Still, knowing what’s coming doesn’t make it any easier.

He’s perched on the bed, his shirt still covering his stomach, with Harry and Marcel on his left and Edward on his right. Their hands rest on him, squeezing and stroking reassuringly, a constant reminder that he’s not alone.

Dr. Miller, a blonde alpha with a warm smile, starts up the ultrasound monitor. “So, I hear you might be cooking up a baby, Louis.”

His cheeks burn, but he nods. “I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive. And, according to these three, my stomach ‘smells’ pregnant.”

She laughs. “That’s definitely not a medically confirmed method, but they’re not entirely wrong. A pregnant omega’s scent can change, especially around their stomach.”

Louis huffs, not quite amused but not entirely exasperated either. His alphas had been annoyingly smug about it, going on and on about how they could smell the pregnancy before he even took the test.

Dr. Miller pulls on a pair of gloves and preps the ultrasound wand. “Do you know the approximate date of conception?”

Louis nods, shifting slightly on the bed. “My heat and their rut started on December 14th and lasted three days.”

“That would put you at about six weeks along,” she hums. “Okay, let’s take a look. Lift your shirt for me?”

Louis hesitates before pulling his shirt up, feeling self-conscious even though he’s sure his stomach hasn’t changed much yet. Still, in the privacy of his mirror at home, he swore he could see a difference—his lower belly feeling slightly fuller, though that could just be in his head.

The cold gel makes him flinch, and his alphas immediately react, squeezing his thighs, rubbing small, soothing circles into his skin.

Dr. Miller presses the wand to his stomach, and all four of them stare at the screen, eyes wide, barely breathing.

“Well,” she says, tilting the wand slightly, “you are definitely pregnant.”

Louis’ heart stutters at that. He knew it, but hearing it out loud from a doctor—seeing the confirmation on the screen—makes it real in a way the pregnancy test didn’t.

But then—Dr. Miller frowns slightly, adjusting the wand. She’s quiet for a moment too long.

Louis’ pulse kicks up.

“I’m assuming, looking at daddies here,” she says, glancing between the triplets, “that multiples run in the family?”

Marcel nods. “Every generation.”

Louis exhales sharply. “Mine too.” He already knows where this is going.

Dr. Miller’s grin widens. “Good, so it won’t be as daunting when I tell you…” she moves the wand again, adjusting the view, “…that you’re having triplets.”

Louis’ mind blanks.

Triplets.

His alphas react immediately—excitement lighting up their faces, joy radiating from them. But Louis—Louis is spinning.

He’s going to be growing three whole babies inside him. Three.

He stares at the screen, heartbeat roaring in his ears. “This is fucking nuts.”

Dr. Miller chuckles. “Here’s baby A,” she points to a tiny circle on the screen, “baby B,” another shape, “and baby C.”

Louis’ jaw slackens. “Holy fuck.”

Dr. Miller smiles, clearly amused. “I’ll give you all a moment to process while I print the sonograms.”

She leaves the room, and Edward immediately lets out a gleeful noise, practically bouncing in place. “Triplets! Can you believe it, Lou? Just like us!”

Louis stares ahead, still processing. “…Triplets.” His voice is flat, dazed. Then, his mouth twists into a grimace. “I’m going to be a fucking house.”

Harry barks out a laugh. “You’ll be our house.”

Louis glares at him. “This isn’t funny. This is a lot. I don’t know how your mom survived this news when she found out about you three.”

Marcel chuckles sheepishly. “She told us when she found out, she started crying immediately and told our dad she was going to rip his dick off for doing this to her.”

Louis snorts. “I don’t blame her.” He shakes his head, still in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

Harry takes his hand, squeezing firmly. “Baby, it’s all going to be okay. We’re going to be here for you and our three pups, every step of the way. You’re not doing this alone.”

Louis sighs, the tension in his shoulders loosening just slightly. He nods, offering them a weak but grateful smile.

Dr. Miller returns with a bundle of sonogram photos, handing them to Louis before addressing him directly. “Louis, as a switch, your pregnancy should be easier than a typical male omega’s. But carrying multiples is always a challenge, so I’m prescribing you some supersized prenatal vitamins. You’ll need all the nutrients you can get.” She pats his knee lightly. “I’ll see you back here at ten weeks, okay?”

Louis nods absently, staring down at the sonograms.

Three babies.

Three whole babies.

The weight of it settles in his chest, terrifying and overwhelming—but beneath it all, there’s something else. Something warm.

Something that, maybe, with time, he’ll call excitement.

***

“We need to figure some things out,” Louis announces as he shuts the dorm door behind him.

The triplets are curled up together in their nest, looking cozy and warm, and the second they spot him, they all make grabby hands, silently inviting him to join.

“Nope. No cuddles until we talk,” he says firmly, crossing his arms as he settles on the edge of his own bed.

The alphas collectively pout, their big, sad eyes almost enough to break his resolve. Almost.

Louis shakes his head, exasperated but fond. “Alright, first off—we need to get our own place. We’re about to graduate, and we need a space that’s big enough for four adults and three pups.”

Marcel perks up. “We’ve already started looking on Zillow, kitten.”

Louis blinks. “Oh. Well, that’s… good.” He hadn’t expected them to be ahead of him on that one, but he’s not about to complain. “Which brings me to my next point—how the hell are we going to pay for this house? I mean, I can get a job, but I’m going to be the size of a planet soon, and I don’t think—”

“Baby,” Harry cuts in, shaking his head. “We’ll take care of it. We can get jobs, and besides…” he shrugs, “we’re kind of rich.”

Louis frowns. “Kind of rich?”

“Yeah, you know. Family money.” Harry waves a hand. “We’ve never had to rely on it before, but it’s there. So you don’t need to worry about anything. You just focus on growing our pups.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

Edward grins. “Didn’t seem relevant until now.”

Louis groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fine. Whatever. As long as we have a plan.”

He takes a breath, moving on to the next topic. “Okay, last thing—I know people say to wait until after the first trimester to tell family, but I really don’t want to wait that long. I want to tell my mom.”

The triplets all nod in agreement.

“Us too,” Edward says. “Our mom is going to freak. In a good way. Especially since she called this.”

Louis huffs a laugh. “Yeah, she did. I still can’t believe it. Even my mom didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Anne’s nose never lies,” Marcel smirks.

Louis rolls his eyes but can’t argue with that.

“Maybe we could drive down to see them over Presidents’ Day weekend,” Marcel suggests. “We’ll have three days off, and it’s only two weeks away.”

Louis grins. “Sounds like a plan.”

***

Two weeks fly by in a blur of nausea and exhaustion. Almost every morning, Louis finds himself hunched over the toilet, dry heaving or throwing up whatever little he managed to eat. It’s made keeping up in class nearly impossible—he spends more time in the bathroom than at his desk.

Luckily, the triplets have him covered. One of them always stays behind to take notes and gather his assignments, while another trails after him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and murmuring soft reassurances as he clings to the cold porcelain.

On top of that, his cravings have kicked in full force. Pineapple, of all things—something he’s always hated—has suddenly become his obsession. He can’t get enough of it. And peanut butter. He’s taken to eating it by the spoonful straight from the jar. Sometimes, he even eats them together, much to the triplets’ horror.

But despite their disgust, they never complain. Their mini fridge is always stocked with fresh pineapple chunks, and there’s never a moment where they don’t have at least one jar of peanut butter on hand.

Now, as they’re packing their bags for the trip to his mom’s house, Louis lounges on the bed, popping a juicy piece of pineapple into his mouth while the alphas bustle around, gathering their things.

Edward glances over and grimaces as Louis casually dips his next piece into the open peanut butter jar. “I still can’t believe you eat that.”

Louis raises an eyebrow and deliberately takes an exaggerated bite. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

Harry snorts as Edward still looks disgusted. Marcel just sighs. “Let’s just get packed before we miss our window to leave.”

***

This time, it’s Daisy who opens the door when they arrive. She leans against the frame, arms crossed, eyeing the four of them like she’s already over whatever nonsense they’ve brought with them.

“Let me guess,” Edward says from the porch, smirking. “Phoebe?”

Daisy stares at him blankly, unimpressed, before shaking her head.

Edward shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

Louis rolls his eyes but steps forward to wrap his little sister in a hug. She’s stiff for a second before giving in, grumbling as he squeezes her tightly.

“I missed you, babe,” he says, ruffling her hair.

“We saw each other two months ago,” Daisy deadpans, though she doesn’t push him away.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t miss my little sister. Nice to know how you really feel about me, though.” He huffs dramatically, stepping past her into the house with his alphas trailing behind him.

Phoebe is sprawled on the couch, legs tucked under a blanket, eyes glued to the TV. Louis doesn’t even need to look at the screen to know what it is. 

Still, when he sees the half-naked people arguing in dramatic accents, he groans. “Oh, come on, Pheebs. Love Island? You actually watch this shit?”

Phoebe barely spares him a glance. “It’s entertaining.”

Daisy plops down beside her twin, stealing a handful of popcorn. “What are you doing here?” she asks, eyes flicking to Louis.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he wedges himself between them, throwing an arm over each of their shoulders.

“Can’t a big brother just come spend time with his favorite sisters? Is that a crime?”

Phoebe narrows her eyes. “It’s not a crime. It’s just weird.”

Daisy nods in agreement.

“You didn’t want to see our lovely faces again?” Harry teases, flashing a smirk.

The twins exchange unimpressed glances before Phoebe deadpans, “We get it, you’re all freakishly hot. Now go to the kitchen with Mom so we can watch our show.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but before he leaves, he leans in and presses an obnoxiously wet kiss to each of their cheeks.

They shriek in disgust, shoving him away as they frantically wipe at their faces.

Satisfied, he finally heads to the kitchen, where the warm scent of freshly baked bread greets him like a hug. His mom is at the counter, pulling a loaf from the oven, a dusting of flour smudged on her cheek.

“Hi, Mom,” he chirps, his stomach flipping with nerves.

She turns, a smile lighting up her face. “Hi, baby. I thought I heard your voice.”

She immediately pulls him into a tight hug, and Louis melts into it, inhaling the comforting scent of home. For a second, he clings to her like he’s still a kid, like he’s not about to drop a bombshell on her that will change both their lives forever.

She pulls back, giving each of his alphas a brief hug before motioning for them to sit at the kitchen table.

“How have you been?” she asks, settling in across from them. “How’s bonded life treating you?”

“It’s been great, Mom,” Louis assures her with a grin, but his fingers twist anxiously in his hoodie sleeve.

“We’ve been taking good care of your son, just like we promised,” Marcel adds earnestly.

Jo’s smile softens. “Good. So, what brings you darlings up here?”

Louis glances at his alphas, who all give him encouraging nods. He swallows. His palms are sweating.

He didn’t expect to be this nervous. It’s his mom, for fuck’s sake. The woman who raised him, who’s loved him through everything. But this—this is huge.

And once he says it, there’s no taking it back.

“Mom, I’m pregnant.”

The words fall into the quiet kitchen like a stone dropping into water, sending ripples through the air.

His mom blinks at him, hands still resting on the table. “…What?”

Louis licks his lips. His heart is pounding. He hadn’t really thought about how he was going to say this, just that he needed to.

“I’m pregnant,” he repeats, voice steadier this time. He slides over the sonogram from his pocket and she takes it in hand. “With triplets.”

For a long, excruciating moment, Jo just stares at the photo. 

Then, she lets out a long breath, sits back in her chair, and mutters, “I knew it.”

Louis blinks. “…What?”

“I knew it,” she says again, pointing at him. “I had a feeling something was up. I know you better than anyone, honey. And you’re having triplets? Oh, baby…”

Her expression wavers between disbelief and something achingly tender. Then, suddenly, she’s on her feet, crossing the kitchen to pull him into another hug.

“You’re going to be a wonderful mom, Louis,” she murmurs against his hair, holding him tight.

And just like that, the tight knot of nerves in his chest loosens. He sags into her embrace, letting out a shaky breath.

“You really think so?” he asks, quieter now.

She pulls back, cupping his face. “I know so. I just can’t believe I’m going to be a grandma.”

His throat tightens.

The triplets, who had been watching the whole exchange with quiet smiles, finally speak up.

“Told you she’d be happy,” Edward says, nudging Louis’ shoulder.

Louis huffs a laugh, wiping his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jo turns to the alphas, giving them a sharp look. “And you three better be taking excellent care of my boy.”

Harry grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

Marcel nods. “Wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

Edward places a hand on his chest, mock-offended. “We adore him.”

Jo shakes her head, exasperated but fond. Then, she claps her hands together. “Well, if my son is growing three babies, he needs to eat. Who’s hungry?”

Louis laughs, warmth spreading through his chest. He still feels overwhelmed, but at least he doesn’t feel alone.

***

His sisters finally manage to tear their eyes away from their ridiculous reality show when he drops the news. At first, they just blink at him, like their brains are struggling to process it. Then, chaos erupts.

“Oh my God!” Daisy shrieks, grabbing Phoebe’s arm and shaking her.

“We’re gonna be aunts!” Phoebe gasps, eyes wide with excitement. “To three babies!”

The twins immediately launch into rapid-fire chatter, discussing all the ways they’re going to spoil their nieces or nephews. Louis just shakes his head, amused. It’s nice to see them this excited—makes everything feel a little more real.

His mom, ever the provider, sends him off with a warm loaf of banana bread and half a casserole from the night before.

“You need real food,” she insists, pressing the containers into his hands. “You’re growing multiples. You can’t just live off cravings and snacks.”

He doesn’t argue. The way his appetite has been fluctuating, he’ll take whatever he can get.

He’s relieved everything went smoothly with his mom, just like when he told her about the accidental bonding. But now, he has to face Anne.

It’s not that he’s worried about how she’ll take it. If anything, he’s worried she’ll take it too well.

She was already over the moon about the idea of him having pups, constantly dropping hints and fawning over him. Now that it’s actually happening? He wouldn’t be surprised if she threw a full-blown celebration the second he walked through the door.

And sure enough, as soon as they step into the house, Anne barely acknowledges her sons before pulling him into a tight hug.

“My sweet boy!” she coos, squeezing him. “Come, sit with me in the living room.”

Louis shoots a smirk at the triplets over his shoulder as Anne drags him away.

Edward scoffs. “Wow. Thanks for the warm, love-filled greeting, Mom.”

Anne waves him off dismissively, settling Louis beside her on the smaller sofa. “Oh, hush. You know I love you boys, but Louis is an omega. He deserves to be treated with love and care.”

Louis shakes his head, amused. “I’m not fragile, you know.”

“Of course, dear,” she assures, patting his knee. Then, her face lights up with excitement. “Can I guess why you’re here?”

Before Louis or the triplets can even react, she blurts out, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Louis lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. There’s no point in drawing it out now.

He nods, offering a small smile. “Yeah, I am.”

Anne shrieks.

It’s so high-pitched and loud that Louis and the triplets all wince, clapping their hands over their ears.

“I knew it!” Anne cries, practically vibrating with joy. “My sense is never wrong when it comes to pregnancy!”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, Mom. You’re like a bloodhound for unborn pups.”

“We actually brought a sonogram for you,” Marcel adds, handing over the small printout.

Anne snatches it eagerly, eyes scanning over the image. The second she processes what she’s seeing, she screams again—so loudly that Louis is almost convinced the neighbors are going to call the cops.

“Triplets?! Oh my God, this is so exciting!”

Then, to Louis’ horror, she leans down and presses her face against his stomach.

“Hi, little ones,” she croons. “This is your grandma. I really hope one of you is a little omega boy. But either way, I’m going to love all three of you with my whole heart.”

Louis flushes, embarrassed but endeared.

“I’m about eight weeks along now,” he tells her, rubbing the back of his neck.

Anne sits up, her expression softening. “Have the cravings started?”

Harry laughs. “He can’t leave home without pineapple and peanut butter, so yeah, they’ve definitely started.”

Anne hums in understanding. “Mine was pickles and Cheez Whiz.”

Louis’ eyes brighten. “Ooh, that actually sounds good.”

Edward groans. “Great. Another weird craving to add to the list.”

Anne shoots him a look. “Hey, he’s carrying each of your babies. He can crave whatever he damn well pleases.”

She turns back to Louis, her expression sympathetic. “Morning sickness hitting you hard?”

Louis sighs. “Yeah. I’ve thrown up every morning for the past two weeks.”

Anne winces. “Oh, sweetheart, I know that’s awful. But I promise, it’s so worth it in the end.” She glances at her sons with a fond smile. “Are you three taking good care of him?”

Marcel nods immediately. “Of course, mom.”

Edward nudges Louis’ knee. “He’s been thoroughly pampered.”

Anne seems satisfied with that answer, but then her eyes light up again. “Have you started preparing yet?”

Louis glances at the triplets before answering. “Well… we were looking online for a house for all of us first.”

Anne waves a hand dismissively. “Live here.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence.

“What?” Louis and the triplets say in unison, which makes Louis feel very weird about being part of their triplet mind-meld moment.

Anne crosses her arms. “Live here. I’ve been thinking about downsizing anyway. This house is too big for just one person. I was already looking at nearby condos.”

Louis stares at her. “Wait—you want us to take your house?”

“Well, yeah,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s got space, it’s got a backyard, and it’s close to me, which means I can help when the babies come.”

The triplets exchange glances.

“We were looking at a place across town…” Harry starts.

Anne snorts. “Why would you do that when you could have this place? It’s already paid off and everything. I raised my kids here and now my kids and you can raise yours here.”

Louis bites his lip. The idea of moving into a house instead of an apartment is definitely appealing, but still… “Are you sure? This is your home.”

Anne smiles warmly. “And now it can be yours. You’re starting a family, love. You deserve a home big enough for all of you.”

Louis swallows, his throat suddenly tight. This—having people this excited, this willing to make room for his growing family—it’s overwhelming in the best way.

He looks at his alphas, searching for their opinions.

Harry squeezes his knee. “If you like it, we’re in.”

Marcel nods. “It would be the perfect space for three babies.”

Edward grins. “And it means mom won’t have to casually drop by unannounced every other day. She’ll already be nearby.”

Anne winks. “Exactly.”

Louis laughs, shaking his head. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Anne beams. “Oh, this is perfect! Now, who wants coffee? We have so much planning to do!”

***

“We want to do something with you before you’re too pregnant to do it.”

Louis barely has time to process the statement before he finds himself cornered in their room, the three alphas watching him expectantly. He blinks at them, brows furrowing as he looks at Edward, the youngest of the triplets.

“What something?” he asks, one brow raised suspiciously.

Edward meets his gaze, completely serious. “A sex something.”

Louis snorts, his lips curling into a smirk. “Depends. If it’s something weird, like pissing on me, I’m gonna have to pass.”

Harry rolls his eyes, stepping closer. “Nothing like that,” he assures. Then, with a slow grin, he adds, “Though I wouldn’t mind marking what’s mine.”

Louis scoffs, nudging him in the ribs when Harry waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“We want to play a game,” Marcel cuts in, his tone more purposeful.

Louis tilts his head. “A game? Like Jigsaw? Should I expect a creepy little doll on a tricycle rolling in here any second?”

He chuckles, but the triplets don’t even crack a smile.

“A sex game,” Harry clarifies. “A kinky sex game.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance even as a warm pulse of arousal spreads through him. He can already feel the dampness between his thighs, slick starting to coat him as all three alphas hover close. “And what’s the objective of this game?”

Marcel smirks. “To test how well you know your alphas.”

That piques Louis’ interest. He does know them well—better than anyone else. It should be a piece of cake.

“Sounds easy enough,” he says, confidence slipping into his voice.

Harry’s smirk deepens as he pulls something from his back pocket. A black silk blindfold dangles from his fingers.

“Will it still be easy without your sense of sight?”

Louis swallows, his body reacting before his mind can catch up. He doesn’t know exactly where this is going, but he likes the idea of being at their mercy.

Edward’s voice comes low and firm. “Strip and sit in the nest.”

Heat pools in Louis’ belly. He obeys, fingers fumbling only slightly as he pulls off each article of clothing under their intense gazes. He feels exposed—not just naked, but laid bare in a way that makes his skin prickle with anticipation. By the time he’s fully undressed and settled on their nest, his breath is coming a little quicker.

Harry leans down, cupping his jaw gently. “I’m going to put this on you now, okay?” he murmurs, brushing the blindfold over Louis’ cheek. “You remember your safe word?”

Louis nods, voice steady despite the heat curling through him. “Grapefruit.”

“Good.” Harry ties the blindfold snugly over his eyes, and suddenly, the world is dark.

Louis shifts, ears straining for movement. His other senses feel heightened, skin tingling as he waits.

Marcel’s voice—he thinks it’s Marcel—cuts through the quiet. “Here are the rules. One of us will touch you, and you have to guess who it is. Guess right, and you’ll be rewarded.”

Edward, he thinks, picks up smoothly. “Guess wrong, and you’ll be punished.”

A shiver runs down Louis’ spine.

“Got it?” Harry’s voice—or maybe Edward’s. Damn, it’s already getting hard to tell.

He swallows. “Yes, alpha.”

A hand—large, warm—trails down his thigh, a teasing touch that makes him twitch.

“Good boy.” The voice is familiar, but without his sight, it’s suddenly so much harder to differentiate. “Can you tell our voices apart like this?”

Louis hesitates. He should be able to. He knows Marcel’s voice is a little higher at times, and Harry’s has that distinct rasp. Edward’s is smoother, deeper in certain moments. But with the blindfold on, the usual cues he relies on seem… muddled.

He licks his lips. “…Not really, alpha.”

A low chuckle. “Then this will be very fun.”

“When you feel a touch, think about who you believe it is. Once the touch is gone, you’ll say which alpha you think it was. Got it?”

Louis nods, voice soft but obedient. “Yes, alpha.”

His body is already humming with anticipation, thighs slick with arousal. His hole clenches around nothing, desperate for attention, and he shifts slightly on the nest, the silk blindfold still secured tightly over his eyes. He can’t see anything, but he feels everything—the warmth of the room, the faintest brush of fabric as one of the triplets moves nearby, and the thick, heady scent of their combined arousal clinging to the air.

It feels like forever before he feels the first touch. His breathing quickens as he waits, skin prickling with sensitivity, every nerve ending alight. The sound of his own heartbeat echoes in his ears, and he lets out a shaky exhale.

Then, at last, it comes—a featherlight peck pressed to his lips. It’s brief, so quick that he barely has time to register it, but he concentrates on the feeling. The lips were pillowy soft, firm but gentle. It felt familiar, like the countless tender kisses he’s stolen during late-night study breaks.

His tongue swipes over his lips, trying to savor the fleeting sensation. “Marcel,” he says confidently.

“Good boy,” a voice praises—low and smooth, unmistakably Marcel’s. The middle triplet rewards him with another kiss, deeper this time, lingering just long enough for Louis to let out a needy whimper against his lips.

But then it’s gone.

Louis bites his bottom lip, trying to compose himself, focusing all his attention on the next touch. His breath stutters when he feels a damp, velvety tongue flick over his nipple. It’s so brief he almost misses it, but then—there it is—fingertips grazing his stomach, featherlight, with the faintest press of something cold.

Rings.

His mind immediately flashes to Edward, the only one of the three who always wears rings—a couple on each hand.

“Edward,” he answers, voice steady.

“Good omega,” Edward rumbles approvingly.

The next thing Louis feels is Edward’s mouth returning to his nipple, this time dragging his teeth lightly over the sensitive bud. Louis whines, arching slightly into the sensation, the soft pain quickly morphing into pleasure. He feels the alpha’s lips curve into a smirk against his skin before Edward abruptly pulls away, leaving him squirming with need.

Louis barely has time to catch his breath before the next touch comes. This time, it’s warm and slick—a thick, blunt pressure against his lips. His mouth parts instinctively, but it’s already gone before he can react.

His tongue darts out, tasting the remnants of what was left behind. Precome—sweet and musky. His lips tingle from the slickness, and he smiles softly as realization hits.

“Harry,” he says with certainty.

A pleased hum follows. “Impressive, baby. How did you know?”

Louis giggles, licking his lips again, savoring the faint taste left behind. “Your precome is sweeter. Because of all the fruit you eat.”

He hears a chuckle—warm, smug, and unmistakably Harry. “Ahh, I see. I am a bit of a pineapple whore, huh?”

He barely has time to grin at Harry’s teasing before the next touch comes. This time, it’s gentle—a slow, soothing caress over his lower stomach. His belly has started to swell slightly, barely noticeable to anyone but the four of them, but enough that the alphas are already obsessed. The touch lingers, slow and deliberate, rubbing tiny circles over the small curve.

A voice coos softly, reverently. “You’re going to look so good all full and round with our pups.”

The tenderness in the tone makes Louis shiver.

No rings this time, he notes. That rules out Edward. But it still leaves two possible culprits.

He chews on his bottom lip, overthinking it. Harry or Marcel? He imagines each of them, running through the memories of their touches, trying to place the specific gentleness. It could be Harry—he’s always so doting and affectionate. But then again, Marcel is the more nurturing one, especially when Louis is overwhelmed or vulnerable.

“Who touched your tummy, baby?” one of the triplets prompts softly.

Louis hesitates, frustration bubbling as he scrambles to decide. His hands clench at the sheets in indecision. “I—I don’t know,” he admits, breathless. “I know it’s not Edward.”

“You’ve gotta guess a name, Lou,” another voice chimes in, teasing but firm.

He swallows thickly and blurts out the first name that comes to mind. “Harry?”

There’s a pause—long enough that he wonders if he got it wrong. But then he hears a low, approving hum, and he exhales shakily in relief.

“Lucky guess, omega,” Harry purrs, clearly amused.

Louis lets out a shaky breath, his heart still pounding. His entire body is a live wire of sensitivity, skin flushed and slick pooling between his legs. He feels the mattress dip as one of the alphas leans down, warm lips ghosting over his ear.

“You’re doing so well for us, baby,” a voice rasps. “But we’re only just getting started.”

Louis’ thighs clench involuntarily, slick dripping down to the sheets as he lets out a breathless whimper, ready for whatever they have in store next.

The next touch comes as a slow, curious drag of fingers over the soft hair above his mound. It’s gentle, exploratory—like the alpha is taking their time getting a feel for something unfamiliar.

“This is new,” one of the triplets murmurs, voice tinged with intrigue.

Louis shifts slightly, lips curving into a sly smile. “Blame Marcel. He gave me a whole lecture on the best ways to shave.” He shrugs, even though they can’t see it. “So… here you go.”

There’s a warm chuckle, followed by a satisfied hum Louis instantly recognizes.

“I love it,” Marcel says, almost reverently.

Louis had spent three weeks letting the hair grow in, careful to trim it into a neat patch, soft and tidy, while keeping his lips shaved clean. He figured the triplets should get used to it—he’s not going to be able to reach down there forever, not with his belly growing.

But judging by their reactions, they don’t seem the slightest bit bothered.

“It’s fucking sexy,” Edward says, voice rough with arousal. “Everything about you is, baby.”

Louis feels his cheeks heat up even more, pride fluttering in his chest despite how vulnerable he feels, splayed out and blindfolded for them.

Then comes Harry’s unmistakable laugh, rich and amused. “You should’ve grown it out ages ago. I could’ve buried my face in it like a treasure hunt. Use my tongue to find your clit like it’s lost gold.”

“That’s what I said!” Marcel exclaims, delighted, and Louis can’t help it—he giggles, the sound bubbling out of him before he can stop it.

“You guys are ridiculous,” he says through a grin, shaking his head fondly. Even blindfolded, he can feel how much they adore him. It’s warm and overwhelming, the love tucked between the filth of their teasing.

Still, he forces himself to steady, to slip back into the focus the game demands.

The next touch comes without warning—just the softest brush along his outer lips, a ghost of contact that makes his thighs twitch. It’s so faint that he has nothing to go on—no telltale rings, no lingering scent, no rasp of breath or shift in weight. Just the shiver racing down his spine.

“Marcel?” he guesses, uncertain.

Silence.

Then a low, disapproving tsk-tsk echoes from the left.

“Wrong,” Marcel says, his voice dropping into something darker, hungrier. “That was Edward, kitten.”

Louis whimpers, feeling heat flood his cheeks again.

“I’m thinking five spanks,” one of them muses aloud, a little too cheerfully. “We could save them. Wait till we’re fucking him… give him all his punishments at once.”

“I like that idea,” another voice agrees. “Let’s keep going. You ready, baby?”

Louis’s breath hitches. “Yes, alphas.” His voice is soft, submissive, but full of want.

“Spread your legs for us, babe,” one of them says, and Louis obeys without hesitation, letting his thighs fall open wide. The cool air rushes over his soaked folds, and he shudders.

There’s a groan, low and primal.

“Fuck, baby,” someone breathes. “I’ll never get over how pink and pretty your pussy is. Look how wet you are. Dripping for us.”

Louis whimpers, hips giving a helpless little buck as his hole clenches involuntarily around nothing.

“All for you, alphas. Only for you.”

There’s a dangerous growl in response, one that makes his toes curl.

“That’s right. We’re the only alphas who get to see you like this. The only ones who get to touch, taste, and fuck what’s ours.”

Louis whines, caught in the haze of being wanted, worshiped, owned. He aches for more—for their hands, mouths, cocks—anything they’ll give him.

He jerks slightly when the next touch comes—fingers parting his folds with practiced ease, a deliberate drag that glides right over his clit. It’s gone too fast, leaving behind nothing but a jolt of need and the wet sound of slick between his thighs.

Louis lets out a needy whine, his hips lifting off the bed instinctively in search of more. But he knows the rules—guess first, then reward.

The touch had been confident but not rough. Gentle but with a knowing precision.

“Harry?” he guesses breathlessly.

“Good boy,” Harry confirms, and then the fingers return, circling his clit with slow, purposeful pressure that makes Louis moan and shake.

His reward is sweet and sharp, enough to leave his thighs trembling before the fingers disappear again.

Then the next touch follows—hot, wet, and filthy. A tongue sliding up from his soaked hole to his clit in one long lick that makes his back arch off the bed.

“Marcel,” he whimpers, not needing to hesitate. The eager, messy way the tongue moves is unmistakable.

“Is it that obvious, kitten?” Marcel chuckles against his cunt, tongue already back at it, fast and relentless.

Louis gasps, his voice thin from pleasure. “You’re all different when you lick me.” His head tips back as Marcel licks deeper, wetter. “Harry is slow and methodical. You’re fast and messy. And Edward… he’s a perfect mix of you both.”

A kiss is pressed gently to his swollen clit, followed by a pleased hum.

“Hopefully a good kind of messy?” Marcel teases, lips dragging over him lazily.

“The best,” Louis sighs, dazed and smiling.

The warmth disappears, replaced quickly by something thicker—two fingers slipping inside him slowly, filling him to the knuckle before retreating again far too soon.

Louis whines, blinking behind the blindfold. He hadn’t caught any telling signs—no rings, no breath, no voice. Just the feel of being filled. Still, he makes a guess.

“Edward?”

“You’re doing so well, princess,” comes the confirming voice, rich with affection, and Louis’ inner omega purrs at the praise.

The fingers return, pushing back into him with intent, curling inside to rub over that spongy spot with practiced ease. Louis gasps, his hips rocking to chase the sensation as his body starts to tremble with the effort of holding back.

Then the fingers are gone again, leaving his walls clenching around nothing.

“Flip over. Hands and knees.”

The command is firm and Louis obeys without hesitation, rolling over and rising onto his elbows, knees parting as he presents himself for them. His spine arches, ass high in the air, heart racing.

“Beautiful,” one of them murmurs, reverent.

Then hands are on his cheeks, spreading him wide, and a hot tongue presses to his hole. Louis cries out, mouth falling open. It’s wet, filthy, and deeply intimate.

He squirms but doesn’t pull away. Still, he’s stumped again.

“Harry?” he guesses, hopeful.

“Wrong, kitten,” comes Marcel’s voice, thick with amusement. “That was me. We’re up to ten spanks now.”

Louis groans, equal parts flustered and turned on.

“Still doing okay, omega?” someone checks—Harry, he thinks, from the gentle tone.

“I’m fine, alpha,” he pants, voice light and breathless with arousal.

He waits, every nerve lit and trembling, his body aching for more. Slick drips down his thighs now, and he’s nearly shaking from the tension coiling in his belly.

And then—finally—he feels it.

The blunt head of a cock nudging at his entrance, and then pressing in with one slow, delicious push. He moans, loud and unfiltered, as he’s stretched open and filled completely, the thick length sinking in until their hips meet.

He whines, dizzy with it, clenching greedily around the cock now buried inside him.

But even through the haze of pleasure, he knows he needs to guess.

“Louis, we need an answer,” one of them says, tapping his hip.

He tries to focus—on the angle, the rhythm, the feel—but they’re identical in shape and size, and his brain is mush. So he dives into his instincts, reaching for that invisible thread that ties him to his alphas.

And his omega, warm and knowing inside him, whispers an answer.

“Edward,” he breathes.

There’s a pause—then the cock inside him drives deeper, harder, fucking him with force that makes him cry out.

“Good omega,” Edward praises, voice low and hungry. “So perfect when you’re full of me.”

Louis moans shamelessly, hips rolling back to meet every thrust. He’s surrounded, claimed, loved—and he’s never felt more right in his body than in this moment, giving everything to them.

Louis doesn’t have time to recover from the praise before Edward’s hips are snapping forward again, his cock thrusting deep and steady inside him. Louis keens, pushing back to meet every stroke, greedy and breathless.

“That’s it, baby. Take it,” Edward growls, fingers bruising against Louis’ hips.

“You’re being so good for us,” someone else murmurs—Harry, he thinks, close to his ear. He hadn’t even realized how near the other alphas had gotten.

A hand slides up the curve of his back while another traces over the arch of his ass, thumbs gently brushing over the skin there.

“But,” Harry continues, tone lilting with mock disappointment, “you did get a few answers wrong, didn’t you?”

Louis whines, trying to nod, but the hand on his back presses him down further, forcing his chest to the bed and his ass even higher.

“Ten spanks,” Marcel reminds, voice smooth and almost delighted. “That’s what we agreed.”

Louis trembles, his cunt clenching around Edward’s cock at just the idea of being punished.

“Color, baby?”

“Green,” Louis pants immediately. He’s so far past ready.

The first slap lands on his left cheek—a sharp, satisfying sting that makes him gasp. Another follows on the right. Then again, back and forth, each one precise and intentional, from each alpha’s hands,  a perfect rhythm that makes his hole tighten desperately around the cock inside him.

“Oh, fuck,” he cries out, biting into the sheets as his cheeks warm with each slap.

“Look at how wet he is now,” Harry groans, a hand ghosting over Louis’ inner thigh, fingers catching some of the slick that’s dripped down. “You like being punished, omega?”

Louis nods frantically, nearly incoherent now. “Yes, yes, alpha—feels so good—”

The eighth slap makes him jolt, and Edward’s thrusts pause only for a moment before he drives back in, slower now, more deliberate. The fullness makes Louis dizzy.

“Two more,” Marcel says softly, almost lovingly.

The final spanks fall heavier, lingering longer, and Louis sobs into the sheets, overwhelmed in the most perfect way. He doesn’t know whether it’s the pain or the praise or the way all three alphas are focused on him entirely, but he feels owned, cherished, and so fucking ready to fall apart.

“You did so well,” Edward soothes, one hand sliding up Louis’ spine. “Took your punishment like our perfect little omega.”

Louis moans, thighs trembling. “Please, alpha,” he gasps. “Please don’t stop—need it—need all of you.”

There’s movement behind him, and then Edward pulls out slowly, leaving him empty and whining. But before he can even complain, he feels the head of another cock pressing to his soaked entrance.

“You ready for me, baby?” Harry murmurs, teasing him with the tip.

Louis can only nod wildly. “Yes, alpha—please—need your cock.”

Harry slides in with a groan, stretching Louis open again, and Louis feels the way his body yields, slick and eager, made to take every inch of his alphas.

Somewhere near his head, Marcel is stroking his hair, murmuring soft, filthy praise while Harry fucks into him from behind.

“That’s it, sweet boy. Just let us use you. You’re so good for us—so perfect and full of our babies.”

Louis can’t speak anymore, too far gone, just whimpers and gasps and cries out every time Harry’s cock hits that perfect spot.

“We’ll take care of you,” someone promises—Marcel again, he thinks. “We’ll fill you up even more. You want that, omega?”

“Yes,” he sobs. “Please, want your come—just want you.”

The next wave of pleasure crashes over him like heat lightning, sudden and blinding, and Louis realizes with a jolt that he’s about to come without even being touched, something he’s rarely able to do. 

Louis is trembling, his entire body buzzing with pleasure so sharp it borders on pain. He can’t think, can’t breathe—he’s so close it hurts. Harry’s cock is relentless inside him, thrusts deep and precise, hitting that spot that makes his vision spark behind the blindfold.

“Alpha—fuck—Harry—” he cries out, voice cracked and high.

Then Marcel is there, sliding in front of him, cradling his face in both hands like he’s something delicate and precious.

“You’re so good, baby,” Marcel coos, thumbs brushing along Louis’ cheeks. “You’re almost there, aren’t you? Gonna come just from Harry’s cock?”

Louis nods desperately, whining when Marcel leans down to kiss him—soft and slow, a complete contrast to the brutal pace behind him.

“That’s it, love. Let go for us. You can do it, omega,” Marcel whispers against his lips.

A strong hand—Edward’s, he thinks—presses between his shoulder blades, keeping him down, grounding him in his body as his climax approaches like a freight train.

“You were made for this, baby,” Edward growls behind him. “Made to take our cocks. Made to be fucked like this—used, filled, and bred. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Louis sobs, his entire body tensing. “Yes! Yes, I want it—please, alpha, please!”

Harry grips his hips tighter, fucking into him with such force Louis can hear the sound of skin on skin, slick and obscene. The sound of it alone nearly sends him over.

“Come, baby,” Harry commands, low and firm. “Be a good omega and come for your alphas.”

That’s all it takes. Louis shatters, his orgasm tearing through him like fire. He screams, body seizing up as he comes untouched, his pussy fluttering wildly around Harry’s cock.

Marcel kisses him through it, whispering praises as Louis trembles in his arms.

“That’s our perfect boy. So fucking beautiful when you come like that.”

“God, you’re fucking milking me, baby,” Harry groans behind him, thrusts growing erratic. “Fuck, I’m gonna come—gonna fill you up, make sure you’re nice and full for us.”

Louis whimpers, barely able to hold himself up. “Please, alpha, want your knot—want all of you in me—”

Harry buries himself deep with one final thrust and groans loud as he spills inside, hips jerking as he knots into Louis’ slick, trembling hole.

Louis moans at the sensation, feeling the warmth spread through him, the fullness, the rightness of it.

Marcel and Edward are still there, one kissing his temple, the other stroking down his spine, grounding him, loving him.

“You did so well, omega,” someone whispers.

“And we’re not even done yet,” someone else adds, voice low and full of promise.

Louis can only breathe, dazed and happy and so, so ready for whatever comes next.

“Can I take the blindfold off now?” Louis asks, breathless and still trembling, desperate to see his alphas—their faces, their praise, their beautiful cocks.

“Of course, baby,” Harry says gently from behind him.

Louis pulls the blindfold off and blinks slowly, his eyes adjusting to the low amber glow of the lamps scattered around the room. It’s soft, warm, and intimate—just like the way they’re all looking at him.

Edward and Marcel are in front of him, eyes dark and full of alpha concern.

“Are you alright, kitten?” Marcel asks softly, fingers threading through his hair in a soothing motion.

“It’s not too bright, is it?” Edward adds, rubbing a hand down Louis’ shoulder.

But Louis barely hears them. His gaze drops, locked onto the hard, flushed cocks resting in their laps—Edward’s still glistening with slick and remnants of Harry’s come.

He doesn’t even answer, just stares, hungry and dazed.

They must catch where he’s looking, because Edward huffs out a laugh.

“Do you want to blow us, princess?”

He nods eagerly, but Harry interrupts, voice low and firm. “Let me adjust our position first—want it to be more comfortable for all of us.”

In one smooth movement, Harry shifts them both so he’s lying down on the bed, with Louis still snug on his lap, facing forward, impaled on his softening knot. The position pushes Harry’s cock deeper into him with every tiny movement, rubbing against his sweet spot in slow, aching glides.

Louis whines and reaches out, hands open and needy toward Marcel and Edward. They both stand, moving toward him with their cocks swaying, heavy and dripping.

He goes to Marcel first—he’s untouched so far—and licks at the glistening tip, savoring the salty tang of precome before easing his lips around it. His hand finds Edward’s cock, slicking it up with what’s left on his fingers, working him with slow, messy strokes.

Marcel groans when Louis takes more of him in, bobbing his head and getting him nice and wet. Then Louis switches, giving Edward the same treatment, humming softly around the tip when he tastes the remnants of slick.

He brings both heads together, tongue darting between them before sucking both at once. They both groan, Marcel’s hand tangling in his hair, Edward’s head tipping back in pleasure.

Eventually, Louis slows, lips lazy and teasing. He doesn’t want them to come—not yet. He wants them inside him.

And when Harry’s knot finally softens enough, Louis pulls off with a wet pop and a little whimper of loss.

“I want you both inside me,” he murmurs against the head of Edward’s cock.

Marcel wastes no time. He lays back beside Harry, cock hard and ready, waiting for Louis to climb into his lap. Louis tries to hold in the warm slick of Harry’s come, but it leaks down his thighs as he moves. He’s just been knotted—his hole is loose and messy and perfect for being filled again.

He sinks down onto Marcel’s cock with a relieved sigh, the glide easy and smooth. Marcel groans, hands gripping his waist as he’s fully sheathed inside him.

Behind him, Edward presses kisses over Louis’ bite mark before easing in a finger next to Marcel’s cock. Louis moans at the stretch, the delicious fullness, as Edward works in another finger, then a third, then a fourth—until Louis is gasping, begging.

“Please, alpha—want it now, need it—”

Edward strokes his thigh, gathers Harry’s come and his slick, and spreads it over his cock before lining up behind him.

The tip pops in beside Marcel’s, and slowly, inch by inch, Edward pushes forward until both alphas are buried deep inside him.

Louis’ mouth falls open in a silent scream, completely stuffed and shaking with pleasure. He’s filled to the brim—Marcel and Edward’s cocks inside, Harry’s come leaking out of him, his womb heavy with pups.

“Can we move, princess?” Edward whispers against his ear.

“Yes, please—alphas, move—”

He’s cut off by the first hard thrust—Edward pulling out and slamming back in, while Marcel braces his feet and starts fucking up into him from below. They pound into him, deep and brutal, both hitting his g-spot over and over, their thrusts perfectly timed.

Louis reaches down, rubbing his aching clit, trying to ground himself—but the pleasure is already too much.

And then it happens.

He wails, back arching, as both cocks grind against that sweet spot just right—and he squirts, a hot gush that sprays over their thighs and Marcel’s lap, soaking the sheets beneath them.

“Fuck, baby, that was so hot,” Harry groans from where he’s watching.

“Do we make you feel so good, kitten? So good you can’t help but squirt?” Marcel growls, fucking into him harder.

Louis is sobbing, overwhelmed, pleasure crashing over him like waves.

Edward kisses down his neck and grabs his wrist, replacing Louis’ hand with his own, rubbing tight circles over his swollen clit.

“I’m going to knot, princess,” Edward growls, voice rough.

“Me too,” Marcel gasps.

Their thrusts speed up, brutal and perfect, and Louis knows he’s close again—so close he can’t hold it in.

They knot him at nearly the same time, both tips swelling inside him, locking him in place as another orgasm rips through him. He cries out, squirting weakly again as his pussy spasms around both knots, milking them for everything.

Edward keeps rubbing his clit until Louis sobs and bats his hand away, too sensitive to bear it. But Edward’s other arm holds him steady, keeping him upright while Louis shakes in the aftermath.

He’s completely spent, chest heaving, tears streaking his cheeks as he tries to breathe through the aftershocks.

“Why are you crying, kitten?” Marcel asks softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. “We’re not hurting you, are we?”

Louis lets out a choked little laugh, voice thick with emotion. “No. It just feels so good. It’s overwhelming. And these babies are making me so sensitive.”

He places a hand on his stomach, rubbing over the gentle swell of his barely-there bump. The alphas melt at the sight.

“Let’s hope they don’t drown in here with how full you guys keep filling me,” he teases, hand still resting over his belly, next to where Edward’s palm has joined his.

“Fuck, could that really happen?” Edward asks, completely serious.

Louis laughs, bright and fond. “No, Eddie. They’re safe. I’m taking good care of them.”

“Fuck yeah, you are,” Edward grins, kissing his neck. “You’re gonna be the best mom.”

“Your ass is going to be sore tomorrow,” Harry murmurs from beside them, eyes still glued to Louis’ body. “It’s already red and bruised.”

“That’s okay,” Louis says with a dazed smile. “I like the reminder. I like remembering what you did to me.”

Marcel groans, pulling him closer. “God, you’re so perfect. How did we get so lucky?”

Louis leans into all of them, utterly full and finally satisfied. He wonders the same thing every single day.

***

It’s a week later, while grabbing coffee on campus with Zayn and Liam, that Louis realizes—somewhat guiltily—that he still hasn’t told them he’s pregnant.

The bonding had been impossible to hide. Three very distinct, very large bite marks on his neck had seen to that. Zayn had spotted them the second they FaceTimed, narrowing his eyes and muttering something like, “I leave you alone for two weeks and you go and get yourself fully claimed?” But the pregnancy? That had slipped through the cracks.

He’s been busy—swept up in bonding bliss, cuddled between warm alpha bodies, and deep down the Amazon rabbit hole of baby items he never thought he’d be browsing at twenty. Edward’s hoodie swallows him whole, but it’s cozy and hides the way his belly is beginning to round out beneath the fabric.

They find a quiet table near the windows of the café. Louis cradles a hot drink between his palms while Liam adds three sugar packets to his and Zayn kicks his feet up on an empty chair.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years,” Zayn says dramatically, leaning over the table with wide eyes.

“It’s been, like, two weeks,” Louis retorts, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Exactly,” Liam says, pointing at him. “Two whole weeks and not a single meme or voice note. I thought you died. Or got abducted by the triplets.”

“Maybe I did,” Louis says with a smile, sipping his drink. “I’m sorry. It’s just… a lot, you know? One day, I had three casual boyfriends, and the next I’m bonded for life. Kind of a whirlwind.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Zayn mutters. “If Liam ever tried that with me, I’d kick his ass.”

Liam groans. “Why am I always the punching bag in these hypotheticals?”

“Because you’re the tallest. And you’d let me,” Zayn says sweetly, before turning his attention back to Louis. “So, how are you really? No jokes.”

Louis hesitates, pressing his fingers to the warm curve of his cup. “There’s something else… I haven’t told you yet.”

Zayn immediately straightens. “Please don’t say you married them in secret. I can’t take another plot twist.”

“I’m pregnant.”

There’s a beat of complete silence. The kind that makes Louis squirm in his seat. Both of his friends are staring at him, eyes darting between his face and the vague curve of his belly under the hoodie, then back up.

“You’re pregnant?” Zayn repeats blankly.

“Almost ten weeks,” Louis confirms, forcing a smile. “This is the part where you react, preferably with some sort of joy or at least noise.”

“I just… wow,” Liam says, blinking. “That’s unexpected.”

Louis snorts. “Is it really? I spent my entire heat in bed with three rutted alphas who think pulling out is for cowards. I mean, my birth control gave it a valiant try.”

Zayn finally huffs a laugh. “Okay, fair enough. Is there more?”

Louis winces and glances down. “Yeah, uh… I’m having triplets.”

Zayn screeches.

Everyone in the café turns to look. Liam physically shrinks into his hoodie, mouthing oh my god as Zayn gasps like he’s been slapped.

“Triplets?!” he hisses.

“Yeah,” Louis mutters. “Apparently, when you combine a fertile omega and three overachieving alphas, you get a fucking litter.”

“You’re going to be a whole planet,” Zayn says, still looking stunned.

Louis can’t help but laugh. “That’s what I said. And honestly, yeah, I wasn’t thrilled when I found out. I was terrified. Still am, if I’m being honest. But… they’re mine. And I love them. Even if they’re only the size of grapes and already making me pee every ten minutes.”

He rests a hand over his lower stomach, and for the first time that day, his smile turns soft and real. Protective.

Liam leans in. “You’re happy?”

Louis nods slowly. “Yeah. I didn’t think I would be. But I am.”

“Well then,” Zayn says with a grin, his earlier shock fading into excitement. “If you’re happy, we’re happy.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a mom,” Liam says, eyes misty. “I remember in high school when you got so drunk at that house party that you puked on that alpha girl and passed out face-first in her azalea bush.”

Zayn cackles. “Oh my god, I forgot about that! And now you’re gonna have three babies. Talk about a glow-up.”

Louis laughs, cheeks flushed. “Yeah, well. Speaking of. These babies are going to need godparents. Think you two are up for it?”

Zayn and Liam freeze for a beat—then glance at each other with wide eyes and break into matching, giddy grins.

“Are you serious?” Zayn gasps.

“Of course we are,” Louis says, grinning.

“Yes!” they say in unison, nearly knocking their drinks over in excitement.

Louis shakes his head, laughing as they celebrate like they just won the lottery. And as he watches them go back and forth about what baby gifts they’re going to get, or whether they’ll need to learn how to change diapers, he rests both hands on his belly, smiling to himself.

His babies are already so loved. And somehow, despite everything, so is he.

***

Louis is twelve weeks when the bump really starts to show.

It’s not massive—not yet—but it’s enough that his silhouette is different. Rounder. Softer. The kind of change he can’t really brush off anymore. 

He could still hide it if he wanted to. Could still tug on Edward’s giant hoodie and keep his head down, let people assume whatever they wanted. But he doesn’t see the point. In a couple of months, he’s going to be huge. By the time graduation rolls around, he’ll probably need help putting on shoes. So why bother pretending?

Today, he picks out a fitted graphic tee that hugs the small but obvious swell of his stomach and pairs it with soft, black leggings. He tugs the hem of the shirt down self-consciously at first, but Harry comes up behind him and kisses his neck, murmuring, “You look gorgeous, baby,” and Edward agrees with a low, appreciative hum that makes Louis’ skin heat.

They walk to class like that—Louis in the middle, fingers laced with Harry on one side and Edward on the other. Marcel’s already at his morning class, sitting through a psych lecture, but they’ll meet up with him for lunch. For now, Louis basks in the rare, late-spring sunshine and the warmth of his mates’ steady presence.

He doesn’t miss the way people stare as they pass.

Some are just curious, eyes flicking down to his bump and then up to the twin alphas flanking him like bodyguards. Others are more pointed. Whispers. Judgments. The triple bond still isn’t what most people expect to see, especially not paired with a visibly pregnant omega in college.

But Louis doesn’t flinch.

Because how can he care what they think when Harry is holding his backpack like it’s made of glass and insisting he shouldn’t carry anything heavier than a pencil? When Edward absentmindedly rubs small, grounding circles into the small of his back as they wait in line for coffee?

The alphas are obsessed with his bump. It’s ridiculous and sweet. They stare at it constantly, like they’re expecting them to start kicking already. They touch it without even thinking—gentle, instinctive brushes of knuckles and palms and kisses pressed low on his belly when they think no one’s looking.

It makes Louis’ chest ache in the best way.

His inner omega practically purrs under the affection. He never thought he’d want this—this soft, spoiled tenderness. But it turns out he does. Craves it. And his alphas are more than happy to provide.

By the time they get to his economics lecture, Louis is feeling surprisingly okay. His morning sickness has been slowly easing up over the past week, and he’s so ready to kiss the worst of it goodbye. No more throwing up on the side of the road. No more dry-heaving over textbook pages. He actually feels like a person again.

They take their usual spot in the back corner of the lecture hall—Louis in the middle seat, flanked by his mates, as always. Harry sets his backpack down for him while Edward adjusts his chair so Louis can stretch out his legs. It’s sweet and completely unnecessary, and Louis doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t love it.

About twenty minutes into the lecture, Louis gets hungry.

Not the I could eat kind of hungry, but the if I don’t eat in the next 30 seconds I might cry kind. Without saying a word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a spoon and a half-eaten jar of peanut butter.

Harry and Edward don’t even blink.

He pops the lid off and digs in, licking the spoon happily as the lecturer drones on about global market trends. There’s technically a no food policy in class, but the professor takes one glance at the visibly pregnant omega eating peanut butter between two brooding alphas and wisely decides not to say a word.

Harry chuckles softly under his breath, bumping his shoulder against Louis’. Edward just shakes his head fondly and leans in to press a kiss to Louis’ temple.

“Enjoying yourself, love?” he murmurs.

Louis licks a smear of peanut butter off his bottom lip and grins. “I’m growing your children and keeping them fed. I’d say I’m doing a damn good job.”

Harry snorts. “You’re perfect.”

“Tell me that again when I’m crying in the shower because my nipples hurt,” Louis replies, and Edward chokes on a laugh.

But even through the teasing, even through the weird cravings and the stares and the minor aches of early pregnancy, Louis feels… content. He leans back in his chair, resting a hand over the gentle curve of his belly as Harry’s fingers find his again.

He never expected to feel so safe in a world that once made him feel so small.

But here he is—twelve weeks pregnant, sucking peanut butter off a spoon in the middle of class, held by love on both sides—and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

***

Lunch at the little café on campus has become a ritual for them lately. It’s warm enough to sit outside, and Louis loves the sunshine on his face, the breeze cooling the back of his neck. The triplets claim the shadiest table on the patio and crowd around it like they don’t already spend every waking moment together.

Louis is twelve weeks pregnant and hungry in a way that’s honestly kind of terrifying. He orders a feast that turns heads when the waiter brings it over: a turkey club sandwich with fries, a greasy cheeseburger, a tall chocolate milkshake, and a little side bowl of peanut butter he definitely smuggled in from his backpack.

He spreads a generous dollop of peanut butter onto his burger, unbothered, and takes a big, satisfied bite. The triplets watch in horror.

All three of them flinch in unison.

“Our babies are something else if they’re making you eat that,” Marcel says, grimacing as Louis happily adds fries to the burger for his next bite.

Louis shrugs, chewing. “You guys are something else, so it tracks.”

Edward laughs, leaning back in his chair and sipping his soda. “God help us if they inherit all our chaos.”

“They will,” Harry beams, gently rubbing circles into Louis’ bump under the table. “And they’re gonna be adorable. I think we’re having all girls.”

“Girls?” Edward arches a brow. “Please. It’s going to be all boys. Like a new generation of us—terrifying, but iconic.”

“Girls would be fun,” Harry says dreamily. “We could dress them in little matching outfits, teach them to rule the world.”

“I think it’s going to be a mix,” Marcel says, reaching for Louis’ milkshake with hopeful eyes. Louis narrows his gaze and swats at him.

“Mine,” he says stubbornly, taking an exaggerated sip before relenting and passing the milkshake over. “But I don’t care what they are, honestly. As long as they’re healthy. Though…” His voice softens. “I am kind of relieved the chances of having a switched omega like me are lower. Just because I’m an omega myself.”

That gets the attention of all three triplets. Marcel freezes mid-sip. Edward stills, mid-reach for a fry. Harry’s hand pauses on Louis’ stomach.

“Are you…” Harry begins carefully, “Are you scared of having a switch?”

“I’m not scared,” Louis says after a pause, shifting in his seat. His eyes drift to the bump under his shirt. “It’s just… it’s rare, especially when the mom’s an omega. But I know what it was like. Growing up in a world that told me I was supposed to be one thing when I didn’t feel like I was anything for a long time.”

He looks up at them, gaze steady. “I don’t want that for my kids. I just want them to feel whole. To feel loved and accepted from the start.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, baby,” Edward says, voice soft and sure. “I mean—wouldn’t doctors be able to tell early on if one of them was like you?”

Louis scoffs, not unkindly. “You’d think. But no. My mom was told she was having a girl. She had the name picked out—Louise. Pink walls. Little dresses. It wasn’t until after I was born that someone ran a blood test and realized I had XY chromosomes. My mom dropped the e from my name and painted over the nursery with blue paint like that would fix everything.”

Marcel winces. “That… is appalling. I’m so sorry, Louis.”

“Not your fault,” Louis says, waving it off, but his expression falters for a second. “I’ve made peace with it. You three helped with that. But if one of our babies is like me, I’ll love him just as fiercely. I just want to protect them from feeling broken. I don’t ever want them to feel like I did growing up.”

There’s a quiet moment around the table. The noise of other students talking, cars passing by on the street, birds chirping faintly from the trees. And then Marcel, ever the gentle voice of reason, clears his throat.

“We can run a blood test at the gender scan,” he offers softly. “It’s simple. We can find out not just their primary genders but their secondary ones too. Compare it with the ultrasound results. It’s not perfect, but it’ll give us a pretty clear picture.”

Louis blinks, lips parting slightly. “Seriously?”

Marcel nods. “I’ve looked into it. We can ask Dr. Miller about it at our twenty week appointment.”

Louis smiles, eyes going a little glassy. “That would… that would actually be amazing.”

Harry leans in and kisses his cheek, while Edward squeezes his knee under the table. “We’ve got you,” he says. “And we’ve got them.”

Feeling a little lighter, Louis turns back to his food and dunks his peanut butter-coated burger into his milkshake like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

All three triplets recoil instantly.

“Oh my god, Louis,” Edward groans.

“That’s so wrong,” Harry moans in agony.

“I feel like I’m watching a crime,” Marcel mutters, shielding his eyes.

Louis just hums, unapologetic, licking chocolate off his thumb. “You three put them in me. You can deal with their weird cravings.”

And despite themselves, the triplets laugh, utterly wrapped around his sticky, chaotic, peanut-butter-and-burger loving finger.

***

By the time they hit twenty weeks, Louis feels like an actual balloon.

He’s well past the point of trying to squeeze into anything cute. His belly is round and prominent, stretching tight against the maternity shirt Marcel picked out for him last week. His leggings dig into his hips even though they’re supposedly “ultra-soft.” He looks closer to seven months along than five, which is apparently normal with triplets—but still. He’s huge.

“I feel like I should start rolling places,” Louis mutters as he climbs up onto the exam table with Harry’s help.

“You’re majestic,” Harry assures him with a wink, kissing his cheek.

“Like a very pregnant swan,” Edward adds, patting Louis’ belly fondly.

Marcel snorts, already filling out paperwork at the corner of the room like the over-prepared alpha he is.

Dr. Miller walks in with her usual warm smile. She’s been their OB from the beginning, completely unfazed by Louis being bonded to three alphas and carrying three babies. “Afternoon, everyone. Ready to check in on your little crew?”

“Definitely,” Louis says, leaning back and lifting his shirt.

The gel is cold, but the moment the wand touches his belly and the monitor flickers on, he forgets all about it. There they are—three tiny babies, squirming and kicking like they own the place.

“Everything looks great,” Dr. Miller assures them, angling the screen so everyone can see. “Plenty of amniotic fluid, strong heartbeats, good movement.”

Harry squeezes Louis’ hand. Edward leans closer, squinting at the screen like he knows what he’s looking for. Marcel just watches, calm and quiet, but Louis sees how tightly he’s holding his clipboard.

“Let’s take a peek and see if we can determine their sexes today,” Dr. Miller says, shifting the wand.

“Baby A is a boy,” she announces, smiling.

“Knew it,” Edward says proudly.

“Baby B…” Dr. Miller frowns thoughtfully. “This one is a little tricky. Based on the positioning and what I can see, it might be a girl. But it’s also possible we’re looking at a male baby or a female alpha. Remember, female alphas have both sets of genitalia, and in utero, it can be hard to tell definitively on an ultrasound.”

Louis bites his lip. “So… you’re not sure?”

“Not without a secondary gender test,” she says gently. “We’d need to run the blood panel—your blood, specifically. It’ll screen their DNA and tell us what their chromosomal sex is, and more importantly, what their secondary gender will be.”

Louis nods slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Dr. Miller continues. “And Baby C is another boy.”

Two boys and maybe a girl. Louis leans back, staring at the ceiling, trying to picture it.

The scan finishes quickly, and once Dr. Miller’s taken the blood sample, she steps out to run the panel.

“Do you want it to be a girl?” Harry asks softly, rubbing circles over Louis’ knee.

Louis shrugs. “I don’t care either way. I just… I guess I got nervous. For a second, I wondered if Baby B might be like me. A switched omega. Not because I wouldn’t love him—I would—but… I know how hard it is growing up not knowing who you are or where you fit.”

Edward rubs his back slowly. “We’ll love them no matter what they are.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not scared. Not really. I just… want to be prepared, you know?”

Marcel nods. “We will be. The blood test will give us clarity.”

When Dr. Miller returns, she has a small smile and a printout in hand. “Got your results.”

They all lean forward.

“Baby A: alpha male. Baby B: alpha female. Baby C: omega male.”

Louis sags in relief, a slow smile spreading across his face. “She’s really a girl.”

“Really and truly,” Dr. Miller nods. “All three are developing beautifully. You’re measuring large, but that’s expected. We’ll keep monitoring you more frequently from now on, just to be safe.”

The triplets surround Louis immediately—Harry kissing his cheek, Edward brushing his hair back, Marcel slipping his hand into Louis’ and squeezing.

Two boys and a girl. Two alphas. One omega. He couldn’t be more excited as he clutches his stomach protectively and he just can’t wait for their arrival. 

***

Louis and the triplets graduate in early May, and at five and a half months pregnant, he’s feeling everything.

His back aches, his feet are swollen from standing too long, and he’s pretty sure his hormones are at war with his dignity because all he can think about—between smiling for family pictures and shaking hands—is how badly he wants to drop to his knees and suck his alphas off behind the bleachers.

Still, he keeps it together. Wears his gown over a maternity-friendly dress shirt and slacks, waddles across the stage with his chin held high, and accepts his diploma with pride. His alphas flank him on either side, all three beaming like they’ve won the lottery.

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. The crowd is full of proud families, and Louis’ own are front and center. His mom and sisters scream the loudest when his name is called.

After the ceremony, they gather in a shaded spot near a grove of trees, and Louis barely has time to brace himself before his family envelops him in a group hug.

His mom’s eyes go misty the second she sees him. “Oh, my darling boy. Look at you. You’ve done so well,” she whispers, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead.

Daisy rubs over his bump and gasps when he tells them the genders. “A male omega and a female alpha? That’s, like, freakishly rare. You’re basically a fertility legend now.”

Louis snorts. “Yeah, lucky me. Carrying a tiny alpha girl who’s already giving me heartburn and a little omega who likes kicking my bladder.”

Phoebe gives him a knowing pat. “You’re glowing, though.”

“I think that’s just sweat,” Louis says dryly, wiping his forehead.

Jo rolls her eyes fondly. “Whatever it is, you look beautiful. We’re so proud of you.”

“We should go tell our mom and Gemma,” Harry says, nudging him gently.

“Don’t let us stop you,” Phoebe waves them off. “Go break the news.”

“We’ll catch up later,” Jo adds with a smile.

It doesn’t take long to spot Anne and Gemma near the tree line, where it’s a little cooler in the shade. Louis fidgets nervously as they approach. It’s his first time meeting Gemma, and he’s heard enough stories to know she doesn’t take any shit—especially not from her brothers.

But Anne is the first to greet them, opening her arms for Louis with a warm smile.

“Louis, sweetheart, congratulations. You’ve gotten so big! Oh, I remember that feeling.”

He hugs her gently, taking in the familiar lavender scent clinging to her clothes. “Thanks. I feel huge.”

She laughs. “Try carrying these three and not feeling like you’re about to pop. Honestly, watching you now brings it all back. The way you’re walking? Classic triplet waddle.”

Louis flushes. “So it’s not just me.”

“Definitely not,” she grins. “You’re doing great.”

“Do we not get any congratulations?” Edward grumbles playfully.

“My boys,” she says fondly, reaching out to pull them into a hug. “Of course I’m proud of you. All of you.”

Louis finally turns to Gemma, smiling softly. “Hi. It’s really nice to meet you. The triplets talk about you all the time.”

Gemma smirks. “Hope they left out the embarrassing stuff.”

He chuckles. “Only some of it.”

She steps in and hugs him gently, letting him breathe in her calming scent. “Are they treating you well?”

“They’re perfect. Overbearing, but perfect.”

“Ugh, typical,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Did they tell you about the time I caught all three of them—”

“Gemma!” Anne interrupts with a scandalized laugh.

Gemma snickers. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave. For now.”

“We actually have something to tell you,” Louis says, bouncing slightly with excitement. “We found out the genders.”

Anne claps her hands. “Tell me there’s a male omega in there.”

“Oh my God,” Gemma groans. “Mom and her obsession.”

Harry grins. “One alpha boy.”

Anne nods eagerly.

“An alpha girl,” Marcel adds.

Anne gasps. “A girl! An alpha girl?! She’s going to rule the world.”

“And a little omega boy,” Louis finishes with a soft smile. “Just like me.”

There’s a split second of silence before Anne shrieks so loudly that every single one of them winces and covers their ears.

“An omega boy!” she squeals. “I’m so happy! Oh, darling, what a perfect little mix. And you four! Look at you. Growing this family already.”

She hugs Louis again, nearly crying. “You’re giving me grandbabies. And one of them’s an omega. I can’t even stand it.”

Gemma leans in and mutters, “She’s going to buy him so many onesies.”

“I already have,” Anne confesses, laughing as the triplets groan.

Louis just smiles, full and soft and warm in his chest. For a moment, he forgets about his aching feet and the way his back is killing him. All he can think about is how lucky their children will be—surrounded by love from every direction.

***

Louis lounges on the sofa of their new house, legs tucked under a plush throw, a bowl of frozen strawberries in his lap and a half-empty can of whipped cream in his hand. The house is still in transition—boxes stacked in corners, the scent of new paint clinging faintly to the walls—but it’s already starting to feel like home.

It had been Anne’s house first. She gifted it to them as a graduation present, saying she’d always wanted to downsize anyway and this gave her the perfect excuse. Her new condo came fully furnished, so she’d left behind all the appliances and more than enough furniture to get them started. A massive blessing, really, especially with three babies on the way and not a lot of time to spare before their arrival.

Louis sprays a generous swirl of whipped cream onto one of the strawberries and pops it into his mouth, moaning softly at the cold sweetness as he watches his alphas sweat through their shirts—or out of them altogether—as they haul furniture through the front door.

God, they look so good.

Harry is shirtless, curls tied back with a bandana, his abs glistening in the summer heat. Marcel has his sleeves rolled up and his glasses fogging slightly, lifting a box full of books without so much as a grunt. Edward’s flexing like a show-off, purposefully overdoing it as he maneuvers a heavy armchair through the doorway. Louis has to squeeze his thighs together just watching them.

His hormones have been hell lately. It’s been a week since they graduated, and his sex drive has only intensified. He’s been in a near-constant state of arousal, slicking up at the smallest thing—Marcel adjusting his glasses, Harry humming while unpacking dishes, Edward scratching his stomach. It doesn’t even take effort anymore. Half the time, he’s soaked before breakfast. He’s started wearing slick pads daily, which only makes him feel more like a walking sex doll.

But as desperate as his body is, he’s barely let them touch him this past week.

Because God, he feels disgusting.

At nearly six months, he’s massive. His bump is round and firm and high, stretching his skin so tight it itches. The babies are active, kicking and rolling and pressing on every organ like it’s a jungle gym. His feet are swollen, his back hurts, and worst of all—his chest.

But now? Pregnancy has filled him out. His chest is easily a B-cup—maybe more—and they’re sore all the time. Swollen. Heavy. Leaking. He had to go shopping for bras for the first time in his life, and no matter how many times the triplets had tried to make it fun, it had still made him want to cry.

He tugs the blanket up higher over his chest and sighs.

It’s not just the discomfort. It’s the confusion. The way this all makes him feel like he’s back at square one. Like that kid who used to hate his body, hate that he was born with a vagina, hate that the world couldn’t decide where he fit.

He presses the can of whipped cream to his lips again, just to have something else to focus on. But even the sugar can’t distract him from the rest of it—like the fact that he can’t even shave anymore. His belly blocks the view of everything south of his navel. He used to keep himself perfectly groomed, but now he can’t see a damn thing down there, let alone reach it.

It’s all just… too much.

Now he has a baby bump and boobs. And even though his mates tell him he’s beautiful—tell him he’s radiant—he can’t help but feel like he’s turning into something he never wanted to be. Something too soft. Too feminine. Too far from the version of himself he worked so hard to love.

So instead of dragging one of them upstairs and begging to be fucked like his body craves, he drowns his embarrassment in strawberries and whipped cream and watches from the couch like a horny, insecure lump.

He sprays a line of whipped cream directly into his mouth and sighs, eyes shamelessly raking over Edward’s ass in those obscenely tight jeans.

Maybe later, once they’ve finished unpacking. Maybe after a shower. Maybe when he feels less like a cow and more like a person again.

For now, he’ll sit here, silently lusting after his gorgeous alphas and letting the cold strawberries soothe the fire inside him.

The front door creaks as Edward walks in, shirt draped over his shoulder, muscles gleaming with sweat. “All done,” he calls. “God, my back’s gonna hate me tomorrow.”

Louis hums quietly, not looking up from his strawberries.

Marcel follows behind him, brow furrowed. “You’ve been quiet for hours. What’s going on, baby?”

“I’m just tired,” Louis mumbles, avoiding their eyes.

“Liar,” Harry says from behind the couch, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

Louis sighs again, heavier this time. “I just feel gross, okay?” he mutters. “Like… I know this is what’s supposed to happen, but I hate it. My belly is massive. My tits are sore and leaking and I can’t stop slicking up like a fucking teenager in heat—”

Their eyes darken at that, but they say nothing, waiting patiently.

Louis looks down as he says, “I feel like I’m turning into someone else. Like… like a girl.”

The room stills.

“Sweetheart…” Edward sits on the armrest beside him, brushing a hand through Louis’ fringe.

“I mean it,” Louis insists, blinking fast. “I’ve already got a vagina, and now I’ve got boobs too. And I feel like a fucking cow, and no one’s saying it, but I know what I look like.”

“Hey,” Marcel kneels in front of him, taking his hand. “Look at me.”

Louis does, reluctantly.

“You’re carrying three babies. You’re making life with your body. That doesn’t make you any less of who you are—it makes you even more incredible.”

Harry crouches behind him, arms coming around his shoulders, mouth brushing his temple. “You are so sexy, baby. Every time you walk into a room, we lose our minds. You’re glowing. You’re hot. And you are a man, no matter what your body looks like.”

Edward chuckles, cupping his face. “And your boobs?” He grins, leaning in close. “We are obsessed. They’re the best things to ever happen to us.”

Louis flushes deeply. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” Marcel says seriously. “We’re not. We love them. They’re soft and warm and full of milk and they’re yours. And they drive us insane.”

Louis squirms, cheeks on fire. “Stop it.”

“Why?” Edward says, smirking. “You’re the hottest you’ve ever been. You’re glowing, your body’s full and soft and perfect, your scent’s so sweet it’s driving us crazy, and your tits—God, baby—your tits are so fucking pretty.”

Louis exhales shakily, clearly overwhelmed but no longer looking away.

“And you’re not fat,” Marcel says, leaning in close. “You’re full. You’re carrying our pups. You’re literally doing the most incredible thing any omega can do, and somehow still managing to look like the sexiest dream I’ve ever had.”

Louis blinks up at them, eyes a little glassy now. “You guys really think that?”

“Of course we do,” Edward says, brushing a hand along his swollen belly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“And your slick problem?” Harry grins. “Let us help you with that. Please. I’m begging.”

Louis snorts through his nose, trying not to smile.

“Seriously though, Lou, you’re not turning into anything other than the parent of our pups,” Marcel says, bringing Louis’ hand to his lips. “You’re you. Our strong, stunning male omega. And we’re in awe of you every single day.”

Louis looks at them, eyes glossy, lip trembling.

“Even when I’m leaky and overgrown and my pubes look like a jungle?”

Edward laughs and wraps an arm around his shoulder. “Especially then.”

“Your jungle’s still our favorite place to be,” Harry adds with a wink, and Louis groans in embarrassment, burying his face in Marcel’s shoulder as they all laugh.

Louis blinks quickly, eyes glimmering. “You guys are sappy as hell.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” Edward says, leaning in to kiss him.

He does. He really, really does.

And when Harry slips a hand beneath the blanket and murmurs, “How about we help you feel better?”—Louis doesn’t say no.

He just nods, whispering, “Please,” as three sets of arms gather him close.

Harry carries him carefully into the bedroom, one hand under Louis’ thighs and the other braced behind his back like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He sets him down gently on the mattress, their freshly made bed already waiting. Thankfully, it had been one of the first things they set up after moving in—on strict orders from Dr. Miller, who’d recommended plenty of bed rest now that Louis was carrying six months of three pups inside him. The triplets had listened like it was law.

The sheets are soft beneath him, cool against his overheated skin, and he sighs as he leans back into the pillows.

Harry helps him out of his oversized shirt, careful not to tug too roughly, and Marcel’s already reaching behind him to unhook the maternity bra Louis has come to loathe. The second it loosens, his breasts fall heavy and full, soft mounds settling against his chest with a jolt that makes him wince.

He scowls down at them.

“God, I hate them,” he mutters. “I look ridiculous.”

He doesn’t even recognize his body anymore. His nipples have gotten bigger—much bigger—and darker too, sensitive enough that even the brush of fabric makes him shiver. Worse, milk beads at the tips constantly, soaking through every bra he owns, and now it’s dripping freely, leaving damp spots on his belly and the sheet beneath him.

He sighs and lifts a hand to his chest, brushing his fingers lightly along his sternum.

“At least I can shave my chest,” he says, half to himself. “If I can’t reach down there anymore, I have to stay smooth up here. It’s bad enough having tits. Hairy tits? No, thanks.”

“You don’t have to shave for us,” Edward murmurs softly from where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes already locked on Louis’ chest.

“I know,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, “but it’s for me, alright?”

Then he grimaces and cups his left breast gingerly, squeezing just the tiniest bit. Immediately, a thick squirt of milk shoots out and splashes across his bump. He groans and lets his hand fall.

“They’re so sore,” he whines, looking up at the triplets for sympathy. “And look what the slightest squeeze does. I’m a literal dairy cow.”

But when he meets their eyes, he doesn’t find the pity—or the disgust—he was expecting.

Instead, three sets of hungry, darkened eyes are fixed on him. Staring. Silent. Marcel’s lips are parted slightly, chest rising a little faster. Harry licks his lips slowly, gaze flicking between Louis’ leaking tits and the milk pooling on his stomach. Edward’s hand has flexed into the bedsheet beside him, knuckles white.

Louis blinks. “Are you—? Oh my god.” He laughs, flushing slightly. “You three are too easy to please.”

Harry crawls onto the bed beside him, voice low and teasing. “Can you blame us?”

“They’re incredible, baby,” Marcel adds, voice husky.

“Literally the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Edward says, brushing a thumb just under the swell of one breast. “Can’t believe you thought we’d be turned off.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are pink now, and his breath stutters a little when Marcel leans in and presses a kiss to the curve of his other breast, warm lips brushing the skin just beneath his nipple.

“I’m leaking,” he protests weakly.

“We noticed,” Harry says, his voice rough with want.

Louis opens his mouth to make another sarcastic comment—but then Edward leans in and licks a slow stripe through the milk on his stomach, and suddenly all thoughts fly out of his head.

“We can make you feel better, kitten,” Marcel whispers, his voice warm and coaxing against Louis’ ear. “Just lie back and let us take care of you.”

And Louis does.

He sinks back into the cushions, propped up by the nest of pillows they’d fluffed around him earlier, letting the tension leave his body. His hands settle on either side of his bump as two soft mouths press gentle kisses around his swollen breasts, reverent and slow, like they’re easing him in.

Then he feels their tongues—hot and wet—lap over his aching nipples, and he lets out a sharp hiss, his back arching slightly. “Fuck—hurts,” he mumbles, face scrunching up. The nerves are so sensitive it’s almost unbearable, but he grits through it, letting Marcel and Edward soothe him with slow, deliberate licks while Harry rubs his hands in slow, grounding circles over his stomach.

And then… it changes.

Marcel’s mouth closes over one nipple and Edward’s over the other, and they begin to suck. Steady, rhythmic pulls that make him gasp aloud. It aches at first, but the relief is instant and overwhelming. Warmth spreads through his chest as milk flows into their mouths, and the sensation—God, the sensation—is somewhere between soothing and filthy.

“They’re drinking from me,” he thinks hazily, cheeks flushed, body tensed.

It should feel weird. It should feel gross. But it doesn’t. It feels intimate. It feels right.

It feels… hot.

The pressure in his chest starts to fade, the aching tenderness softening with every greedy pull of their mouths.

Edward’s the first to pull off, licking his lips and groaning. “Harry, fuck, you’ve gotta try this. His milk’s actually really fucking good.”

Louis moans in protest, missing the sensation already, but Harry is already moving, switching places with Edward and leaning in to wrap his lips around the oversensitive bud. His mouth is hot, tongue moving in slow, practiced swirls as he begins to drink, and Louis nearly sobs with how good it feels.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Marcel murmurs against the swell of his other breast, brushing kisses across the skin. “Tastes so sweet. You’re amazing.”

Louis melts. His body is still sore, stretched taut and leaking, but his chest already feels lighter. Less full. Less raw. He lets out a breathy laugh and runs his fingers through Harry’s curls. “God, thank you. I love you idiots so much.”

“We love you too,” Edward says, kissing over the curve of his belly. “More than anything.”

Louis feels fingers tug gently at the waistband of his shorts and panties, and he tenses, instinctively squeezing his legs shut.

Edward pauses, then leans in and presses a kiss to his thigh. “You’re gorgeous, princess. Hairy pussy or not. We just want you.”

Louis still hesitates, but then Marcel leans in beside Edward and brushes a hand up the inside of his thigh, warm and steady. “Let us take care of you, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Louis exhales shakily. Then, with a dramatic huff, he leans back again and slowly spreads his legs.

“Fine,” he mutters. “But if you get lost in there, I’m not sending a search party.”

Edward grins, eyes glinting with mischief. “Wouldn’t mind getting lost in you, baby.”

Louis takes a steady breath and spreads his legs, letting Edward tug his shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion. Almost immediately, instinct kicks in and he squeezes his thighs shut again, self-conscious.

Edward, of course, just gently pries them back open with ease, his hands warm on Louis’ skin. Marcel resumes his slow, comforting suck at Louis’ nipple, and Louis lets out a soft sigh.

“Seriously?” Edward huffs, looking down. “You made it sound like you had a whole jungle down here. This is barely even peach fuzz.”

Louis groans, tipping his head back against the pillows. “Okay, maybe I was being dramatic. But it feels like a lot. I usually keep everything nice and tidy, you know?”

Harry and Marcel both lean over to sneak a glance. Harry chuckles while Marcel’s lips twitch into a grin.

“Lou, you’re adorable,” Marcel says, brushing a kiss to his shoulder. “That’s barely anything. I told you before—I kind of wanted to see what a full bush would look like on you anyway.”

Harry snorts. “Yeah, and I’ve got more hair under my arms than you have down there. You’re fine.”

“But I’m the omega,” Louis says, still a little pouty. “I like being clean and hairless.”

“And you usually are,” Edward says, rubbing his fingers lightly along Louis’ slick folds, which makes Louis shiver. “But right now? You’re glowing. And you’re perfect just like this.”

Louis blushes, both from the praise and the growing arousal building between his legs. “Still. It bugs me.”

Marcel, always the thoughtful one, kisses over his nipple again and murmurs, “We could help you shave, if you want. Make it a little spa day for our pretty omega.”

Louis lets out a sharp laugh. “As much as I love you idiots, I really don’t trust any of you with a razor near my clit. I feel like one of you would sneeze and I’d lose a whole lip.”

Harry snickers. “We’d never risk something so important. Your clit is, like, top three on our list of favorite things.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Top three?”

“Well,” Harry says, thoughtful, “your tits are definitely up there now. And your belly, obviously.”

Louis tries to keep a straight face but fails, letting out a small laugh despite himself. “You’re all hopeless.”

Edward leans in, brushing a kiss to the inside of Louis’ thigh before murmuring, “Hopeless for you.”

Then, finally, his fingers slip inside—slow, sure, and familiar—and Louis forgets entirely what he was complaining about.

Edward keeps a steady rhythm with his fingers, thrusting in and out, and Louis lets out a soft moan, his head lolling against the pillows. The heat in his belly coils tighter and tighter.

The mouths at his chest finally pull back, and Harry chuckles as he wipes his lips. “You’re all empty, baby. We drank you dry.”

“Do they feel any better now?” Marcel asks, brushing gentle fingers over Louis’ now-soft, relaxed chest.

Louis nods, breathless but smiling. “So much better,” he murmurs. “Thank you, alphas.”

“Anything for our beautiful boy,” Marcel coos, his hand smoothing over the curve of Louis’ bump. “They’re really having a party in there, huh?”

Louis huffs a soft laugh, resting one hand on his stomach as a little thump presses back against his palm. “I swear, I’m just a walking bounce house for them at this point.”

He gives his belly a gentle pat and murmurs to it, “Mom’s trying to have sexy time with your dads and you still can’t give a guy a break?”

That gets a round of soft laughter from the triplets, but Louis is too focused on the fingers inside him to truly care. He ruts his hips down, chasing the feeling with a whimper. “Eddie…”

Edward grins. “Needy, aren’t you?” But he doesn’t tease long—he leans in and licks slowly over Louis’ clit, soft and careful.

Louis gasps, the pleasure hitting him fast. Pregnancy has made him so much more sensitive, every flick of Edward’s tongue sending sparks up his spine. “I’m—I’m gonna—oh, fuck!”

He arches with a cry, clenching around Edward’s fingers as his orgasm rolls through him, overwhelming and intense. Edward keeps his touch steady, soft laps of his tongue against his clit until Louis finally slumps back, boneless and panting.

When Edward finally lifts his head, his mouth and chin slick, he licks his lips and groans. “God, your slick just keeps getting sweeter. It’s unreal.”

“I wanna taste,” Marcel pouts, already leaning in.

Edward just smirks and offers him his fingers, coated in Louis’ release. Marcel wraps his lips around them eagerly, eyes fluttering closed as he sucks.

Harry watches them both with a dark gleam in his eyes, then turns to Louis with a soft smile. “You okay, baby?”

But Louis is too distracted to respond right away, eyes locked on Marcel and Edward as Marcel sucks Edward’s fingers clean. There’s something about the way they look at each other—hungry and familiar, like they’ve done this a thousand times before and know exactly how to get under each other’s skin. Pregnancy has changed a lot for Louis, and one thing he’s noticed is how intensely aware he is of everything, especially them.

He’s caught himself watching them more and more over the past few weeks—every lingering kiss, every teasing touch, every low laugh as one of them got handsy with another. And instead of jealousy, it’s only made him ache. Made him want.

Without even thinking, he blurts out, “Can I watch you guys fuck?”

Three sets of eyes immediately snap to him, wide and startled. Louis just shrugs, playing it cool even as his cheeks flush. “What?” he says. “You guys are hot. And apparently, carrying your pups has made me really into the idea of watching my mates, who are also brothers, get each other off.”

Marcel raises a brow, licking the last trace of Louis’ slick from his lips. “You want to watch us… fuck?”

“Ugh, yes,” Louis groans, flopping back dramatically against the pillows. “You guys are constantly teasing each other, and I see the way you look at one another. You bonded me, knocked me up—without asking, by the way—so I think it’s only fair you let me watch you fuck.”

Edward chuckles, crawling up beside him. “You make a compelling argument.”

Harry smiles softly and leans down to kiss Louis’ temple. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll do it. Even though I think I speak for all three of us when I say we’d rather be touching you.”

Louis grins, eyes glinting. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be involved.”

“Of course not,” Marcel murmurs, already crawling closer, his voice low and teasing. “Our pretty little omega always gets what he wants.”

The triplets shift into motion, moving with the kind of effortless coordination only they could manage. Clothes are tugged off, tossed aside until all three are bare—skin warm and flushed, cocks brushing against each other as they kneel on the bed. Louis watches with hungry eyes, breath catching in his throat.

Harry presses up against Edward’s front, their mouths meeting in a messy, heated kiss—tongues sliding together with practiced ease—while Marcel moves in behind, kissing a path down Edward’s neck. He’d ditched his glasses at some point, and his hair was unstyled today, giving him an uncanny resemblance to Edward. If it weren’t for Edward’s tattoos, Louis might have had trouble telling them apart.

Louis whimpers when Harry wraps a hand around both his and Edward’s cocks, stroking them together in slow, teasing pumps, while Marcel sucks fresh hickeys along his brother’s throat.

It’s hot—so hot—but Louis is already flushed and restless, belly tight and swollen with their pups, and he doesn’t have the patience for much more.

“Okay,” he says, a little breathless, “your foreplay is really fucking hot, but I can barely reach my pussy anymore, so unless one of you is volunteering to be my hands, I’m gonna need some help here.”

That gets their attention. The kiss breaks, and Marcel lifts his head, all three of them grinning at him like he’s just issued the most exciting challenge in the world.

“Do you have a preference where you want us, kitten?” Marcel asks, voice low and warm.

Louis taps his chin thoughtfully. “Who usually bottoms between you three?”

Harry smirks, rubbing a hand over Louis’ knee. “We all do, but Eddie’s usually the one taking it the most.”

“Guilty,” Edward says with a sheepish grin and a shrug.

Louis’ smile turns sly. “Perfect. Here’s what I want: I’m going to sit on Marcie’s face. Edward, you’re going to suck him off. And Harry—you’re going to finger him open while he does it. Sound good?”

Marcel grins, wagging his brows. “Your pussy on my face is always a good time.”

Louis lets out a laugh as they all shift into place, heart pounding, arousal simmering hot and bright inside him.

Harry helps Louis onto Marcel’s face, steadying him gently before moving behind Edward. Marcel doesn’t waste a second—his hands grip Louis’ hips, and his tongue dives into him with a hunger that makes Louis moan aloud, fingers resting on the swell of his bump.

Through his lashes, Louis watches as Harry pulls the lube from the bedside drawer. It’s not used often with him—he’s always wet enough—but the triplets use it when playing with each other.

Edward has already taken Marcel into his mouth, sucking him down smoothly. He groans around the cock in his throat when one of Harry’s slick fingers breaches his tight hole.

The scene unfolding in front of Louis is pure filth, and he grinds down harder onto Marcel’s mouth, trying to get just the right pressure on his clit. Marcel moans underneath him, his tongue relentless, drinking down every drop of slick Louis gives him.

Edward’s head bobs along Marcel’s cock, spit glistening down the shaft. Louis watches the crease between his brows deepen when Harry adds a second finger, slow and patient.

Alphas weren’t built for penetration the way omegas were—Louis knows that. Their holes are dry and tight, needing time and careful prep to take cock. Harry’s fingers move deliberately, scissoring Edward open, making sure every inch is ready.

Louis whines when Marcel flicks his clit side to side, nose nudging his fluttering entrance, and he knows he’s getting close. He holds off, biting down on his lip as best he can. He wants to wait until Edward is fully stretched, wants to come with him.

Edward pulls off Marcel’s cock with a gasp, switching to stroking it instead, his mouth falling open and his eyes fluttering shut as Harry must’ve found his prostate.

Louis doesn’t last after that. Not with the way Marcel suckles at his clit like he’ll never get another taste, not with Edward moaning and Harry’s fingers working so deep. He cries out, hips jerking as his orgasm rushes over him, slick gushing out onto Marcel’s face.

Marcel keeps licking until Louis trembles, every nerve alight. When Louis finally lifts off him, Marcel’s face is wet with slick and shining with pride.

“I’m good, Harry,” Edward pants, ass pushing back eagerly against the alpha’s hand.

Harry chuckles and pulls his fingers out with a wet sound before giving Edward’s ass a light slap.

Louis grabs the lube bottle and slicks up his hand. Marcel’s cock is already glistening from Edward’s mouth, but he still wraps a lubed hand around the shaft, stroking him a few times for extra glide.

Marcel hisses at the contact, and Louis smiles, teasing the head with a flick of his wrist before pulling away.

Edward hovers over Marcel, then slowly sinks down, taking his time as his body stretches to accommodate his brother’s cock. Louis watches with fascination, wondering how often they do this—or if it’s just the occasional blowie when the mood strikes.

It takes effort, but eventually Edward’s ass meets Marcel’s hips and they both moan.

“God, Ed, you’re fucking tight,” Marcel groans, hands flying to Edward’s waist.

“I should be,” Edward mutters, grinding down. “You and Harry haven’t fucked me in ages.”

Louis watches in awe as Edward lifts himself and drops back down, riding his brother’s cock with practiced ease. It’s different—seeing his confident, dominant alpha take on a more submissive role—and it makes Louis ache with affection. They trust him enough to be like this in front of him.

But Louis wants more—needs more. He crawls forward on all fours, positioning himself over Marcel again. “I want you to fuck me while Marcel fucks you,” he tells Edward, voice husky with want.

Edward doesn’t hesitate. He stills his hips, grabs his cock, and sinks it into Louis slowly, carefully.

Louis gasps at the stretch, head dropping, but he looks up at Harry and reaches out. “Come fuck my tits, alpha,” he whines, chest heaving.

Harry grins, stepping over Marcel and positioning himself in front of Louis, cock already hard. Louis collects his slick from between his thighs and strokes Harry’s length, coating it, before rubbing the rest onto his breasts and pressing them together.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry growls, guiding his cock between the soft swell. “You look so perfect like this.”

Louis squeezes his tits together, creating a snug tunnel, and Harry begins to thrust. Behind him, Marcel fucks up into Edward’s ass, forcing Edward to drive deeper into Louis in turn.

Louis whines at the rhythm, overwhelmed, and opens his mouth to catch Harry’s cock every time it pops through the top of his tits, sucking on the head briefly before it disappears again.

“I’m gonna knot soon,” Marcel pants, thrusts getting more erratic.

“Me too,” Edward and Harry say in unison, and Louis lets out a shaky laugh. Good—he’s right there with them.

He feels the bulge of Harry’s knot forming against his chest, and Edward’s cock swelling inside him, each thrust pushing him closer.

Marcel’s thumb finds his clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles. Louis shudders, crying out as his orgasm crashes into him again, clenching hard around Edward’s cock.

Edward moans as his knot locks inside Louis, prolonging the omega’s release. Marcel follows a moment later, burying himself deep inside Edward and groaning as his knot pops into place.

Edward hisses at the stretch, but Louis deliberately tightens around his knot, giving him something else to focus on—something good.

Harry is the last one left, his rhythm faltering. Louis squeezes his breasts tighter around him and looks up with pleading eyes. “Come on, alpha. Knot my tits. Cover me. I need it, please.”

Harry growls low in his chest and tips over the edge. His come spurts hot across Louis’ tits and chin, messy and thick. He leans forward, aiming the last of it at Louis’ bump, streaking it with white.

Louis catches the tip in his mouth and sucks him through the pulses, moaning around the knot. Harry’s knot won’t stay long—it’s not in a hole—so Louis drinks down the last spurts lazily, filled to the brim with come and still panting.

He’s still tied to Edward, who’s still tied to Marcel, but the knots are already starting to deflate—pregnancy tends to shorten the lock. After about ten minutes, both alphas pull out with wet pops.

Edward stumbles to the bathroom, muttering something about way too much come, and Louis just laughs.

He’s too used to the feeling to be bothered, but he’s also sticky and exhausted.

“Alphas,” he whines, holding his arms out dramatically. “Carry me to the bathtub.”

“But you look so pretty covered in my come,” Harry pouts. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “A, nobody’s going to see me like this except you three. And B, I think the three bite marks on my neck and the fact that I’m full of your pups already says enough about how yours I am.”

That earns a round of laughter before Harry lifts him bridal-style and carries him to the tub, running warm water.

Marcel wanders in a minute later, soft and still flushed, and Louis catches sight of Edward in the hall, still trying to clean Marcel’s come out of him.

“Fuck you, Marcie,” Edward grumbles, and Marcel just cackles.

Louis leans back, watching them fondly, heart full. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

***

Louis is officially thirty-four weeks along, and he’s so over being pregnant.

He hadn’t even known it was possible for a belly to get this big. But here he is, absolutely massive, with skin stretched taut over the pups inside him, every inch of his body aching with the effort of carrying three alphas’ babies.

He’s been stuck in bed for what feels like forever. His ankles are swollen beyond recognition, his back constantly aches no matter how many pillows he’s propped up with, and he has to pee every ten minutes—if not from the pressure on his bladder, then from the gallons of water he’s been drinking to stay hydrated. His ribs are sore and bruised from all the kicking, his appetite has vanished, and he’s just so tired. Even blinking feels like a chore.

His induction is scheduled in three days, and he’s counting down every second like a prisoner waiting for release.

The only saving grace is his alphas, who have stepped up in every way imaginable. Harry and Edward cater to his every need, fetching snacks and rubbing his feet, while Marcel keeps track of all his meds and appointments. They’re doting and attentive, constantly checking in, running warm baths, and whispering reassurances when the stress gets overwhelming. They even help him dress, since bending down is a laughable impossibility at this point.

Their moms have been over constantly the last few weeks, fussing over him, making sure the nursery’s set up, dropping off food and supplies, and helping calm his nerves. Louis appreciates the support, really he does, but no amount of encouragement can stop the spiraling thoughts: What if they forgot something? What if they aren’t ready? What if he can’t do this?

Anne had been startled when he first explained he was a switch, and that he was born with a vagina. But the shock passed quickly, and she’d given his bump a fond pat before saying, “Then labor should be a walk in the park for you, darling. Built for it, aren’t you?”

Louis had laughed, even if he didn’t really believe it.

Zayn and Liam had dropped by recently too. The couple had just moved into a place nearby, and when Zayn laid eyes on Louis’ enormous bump, his jaw had practically hit the floor.

He’d pointed a finger at Liam and deadpanned, “If you ever do that to me, I’ll rip your knot off and feed it to you.”

Louis had wheezed with laughter. Honestly, same. If someone had warned him just how brutal this last stretch of pregnancy would be, he might have thought twice before letting all three of them knot him in one night. He was owed compensation—monetary or otherwise.

Now, the triplets are officially off work and devoting themselves entirely to him. Edward and Harry are sitting at the foot of the bed, massaging his sore, swollen feet. Marcel is behind him, rubbing firming lotion gently over the taut skin of his belly with reverent hands.

“Stretch marks are beautiful,” Marcel insists, voice soft and full of love as his fingers move in slow, soothing circles.

“Sure,” Louis mutters, “but I’d rather not have permanent tiger stripes if I can avoid it.”

Marcel chuckles and moves on to his chest. Louis sighs, closing his eyes as the lotion cools his overheated skin. His tits ache less today—they’d pumped earlier to ease the pressure—but he’s resigned himself to the fact they’re not going anywhere for a long while. Breastfeeding three pups is going to keep them full and sore for months, maybe longer.

Still, he’s gotten used to them, especially with how much the triplets worship them. If they’re going to be a permanent fixture, they may as well be soft and well-moisturized.

“Question,” Louis murmurs, drawing the alphas’ attention. “Are we circumcising the babies?”

Edward blinks. “Huh. Hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well,” Louis says, shifting slightly in their hands, “all three of them are going to have penises—even the girl. And since I don’t have one, and you three do, I figured it’s your call.”

The triplets exchange a glance. They’re all circumcised, but Harry surprises him by speaking first.

“I think we should leave them intact. Let them make the decision when they’re older, if they want. Doesn’t feel like our choice to make.”

Marcel and Edward nod in agreement.

Louis hums, relaxing. “Sounds good to—”

A sudden rush of warm liquid gushes out of him, soaking his pajama bottoms and the sheets beneath him. He gasps as a sharp cramp clenches through his abdomen.

His eyes fly open in panic. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

All three alphas jolt upright.

“What? What’s wrong, kitten?” Marcel asks, eyes wide.

“My water just broke!” Louis shrieks, trying to get to his feet and wobbling in place. The wet spot is obvious now, spreading down his thighs. “Oh my god, it’s happening. It’s actually happening.”

The triplets stare at him, frozen in shock.

Then Harry exclaims, “Holy fuck, we’re going to dads and you’re going to be a mom!”

Edward lets out a disbelieving laugh. “About time!”

Louis groans, clutching his stomach. “Well? Don’t just stand there—get me to the damn hospital!”

Marcel springs into action, grabbing his hospital bag. Edward supports him from one side while Harry pulls out his phone to call their moms.

“Mom’s going to flip,” he mutters as he dials.

“Tell her to meet us there!” Louis pants, gripping Edward’s arm as another contraction hits. “And move! These pups are not waiting!”

***

The drive to the hospital is a blur of honking horns, rushed breathing, and Louis shouting at everyone to go faster, even though they’re already speeding. He’s crammed into the back seat with Marcel, lying sideways while gripping his mate’s hand like a vice, and Edward’s driving like a maniac while Harry shouts directions and tries to call the hospital ahead.

“Turn left!” Harry snaps.

“That’s a red light!”

“He’s in labor, Edward! Run the fucking light!”

Louis groans loudly, head thrown back against the seat. “If one of you crashes this car before I give birth, I swear to God, I will haunt you all and breastfeed the babies from the afterlife.”

Marcel’s trying his best to soothe him with gentle touches and murmured affirmations, but Louis is clenching so hard his knuckles are white. Another contraction hits and he lets out a guttural whine, eyes squeezing shut. “They’re coming. They’re fucking coming. I can feel it.”

“We’re almost there,” Edward swears, practically jumping the curb as he screeches into the hospital’s drop-off lane. Harry’s already out of the car before they’ve even stopped, yelling for a wheelchair, while Marcel helps Louis ease his way out.

A nurse rushes over with a wheelchair just in time. Louis lowers himself into it with a hiss, one hand still pressed protectively over his belly. The wetness between his legs is making him miserable, his skin clammy, and he hates how exposed he feels. But there’s no time to care. He’s wheeled in through the sliding glass doors with all three alphas flanking him, shouting over each other.

“Triplet birth, thirty-four weeks—he’s in active labor!”

“Omega, name’s Louis Tomlinson—he’s been bedridden, it’s high risk—”

“His contractions are five minutes apart!”

“Three! They’re three minutes apart now, you absolute knob—get him a room!”

Nurses usher them into an elevator, then down the hallway and into a labor and delivery suite already prepped and waiting. Someone hands him a gown and tries to usher the alphas back, but Louis grabs Marcel’s shirt and snarls, “They stay, or I don’t birth anything.”

The nurse backs off. “Alright! Okay. You’re in charge.”

Marcel helps him into the gown while Harry and Edward set down the bags and answer a rapid-fire list of questions from the nurse. Louis lies back on the bed with a groan, gripping the side rails while his abdomen spasms again.

“It hurts,” he grits out. “Everything hurts. I feel like I’m being torn in half.”

“You’re doing amazing,” Marcel whispers, brushing sweat-damp hair from his forehead. “You’re so strong, baby.”

A doctor comes in, introducing herself as Dr. Ramirez, and checks Louis quickly. “You’re already at eight centimeters. These babies are eager. We need to move fast.”

“Great,” Louis gasps. “Love that for me.”

Anne and his mom burst into the room minutes later, breathless and wide-eyed. Anne immediately rushes to hold Louis’ hand, while his mom strokes his hair, pressing kisses to his temple.

“We’re here, sweetheart,” she says gently. “You’re doing so well.”

A contraction slams through him and Louis screams. He doesn’t even care anymore about looking composed—he’s sweaty, tearful, and overwhelmed, but he’s determined. The monitors are beeping like mad, voices are all around him, but the only thing he can focus on is the pressure building lower and lower in his body.

“I need to push,” he gasps. “I can’t—I need to—”

“Alright, Louis,” Dr. Ramirez says, pulling on gloves. “We’re going to guide you through it. Let’s bring these babies into the world.”

Edward and Harry take either hand. Marcel stays at his side, whispering encouragement as the first pup starts to crown. It’s a blur of pain and pressure, burning and stretching, until Louis sobs out a scream and the first baby slips free, followed by a shrill, beautiful wail.

“A boy,” the doctor confirms, holding him up just long enough for Louis to see before the nurses whisk him away to be checked over.

Louis is shaking, but there’s no time to rest. The next contraction hits, and the pressure builds again.

“You’ve got this,” Harry whispers. “One down, two to go. You’re incredible.”

He pushes again, and again, and then the second pup is born—another boy, with a louder, angrier cry than the first. Louis barely has time to register the sound before the third hits him harder than either of the first two.

He’s exhausted. Everything hurts. He’s sweating, sobbing, and barely able to stay upright. “I can’t,” he whispers, voice shaking. “I can’t do another one.”

“Yes, you can,” Marcel says firmly, leaning close. “You are. Just one more. One last push, baby.”

Louis clenches his jaw, bears down, and screams. His whole body shakes with the force of it—and then it’s over. The final pup slips free and cries out. Dr. Ramirez announces, “A healthy alpha girl!”

The room explodes in movement as nurses clean the babies, wrap them, check their vitals. Louis collapses back onto the bed, utterly spent. The sweat on his skin is cooling rapidly, making him shiver, and his arms tremble when he tries to reach for the babies.

One by one, the triplets are brought to him—tiny, squirming, and bundled in soft blankets. Louis starts crying the moment the nurse lays the first boy on his chest, and doesn’t stop as the second is tucked into his arms, followed by their baby girl.

He looks down at them, so small and pink and perfect, and then up at his mates—Harry crying openly, Edward looking stunned, and Marcel’s hand trembling as he strokes Louis’ cheek.

“You did it,” Edward whispers, voice cracking. “You gave us a family.”

Louis lets out a watery laugh. “Yeah. And if you ever get me pregnant again, I’ll kill you.”

They all laugh through their tears.

Anne and his mom beam at him, hands over their hearts, while the nurses begin wrapping up around them. For a moment, the world is still—just Louis, his mates, and their three tiny pups breathing together in the quiet aftermath of chaos.

The room has finally settled into a soft, peaceful hush. The rush of the birth is over, and the nurses have given them space to breathe, to process. Louis is propped up against a mountain of pillows, looking absolutely wrecked but blissfully content, with all three pups nestled close to his chest—one in each arm, and their little girl lying right on top of him, her tiny hand curled against his collarbone.

Their moms linger nearby, misty-eyed and in awe.

“They’re beautiful,” Anne whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “Truly beautiful.”

Louis gives a soft, tired laugh. “They look like little wrinkly potatoes.”

“Perfect potatoes,” his mom teases, brushing a gentle hand over one of the babies’ cheeks. “Do they have names?”

The triplets glance at each other, and then all at Louis, who nods weakly. “We picked them out a while ago,” he murmurs. “Didn’t want to say them out loud until we saw them, but now… yeah.”

Marcel steps forward first, glancing down at the smallest of the three, swaddled in a pale blue blanket and cradled in Louis’ left arm. “This one came first,” he says softly. “Our little omega boy.”

Louis adjusts the blanket a bit, gazing down at the tiny face. “He’s the smallest,” he says, his voice cracking just slightly but he lets out a wet laugh. “But I just know he’s going to use the fact that he’s the oldest over his alpha siblings their whole lives.”

Harry smiles down at the baby. “His name is Noah William Styles.”

Anne blinks, then grins. “William?”

Louis nods, looking up at them. “That’s my middle name too. I thought it was fitting with us both being male omegas.”

Both moms melt at that. Especially Anne who has her eyes set on Noah like she’s ready to steal him away for herself. Louis shakes his head at his mother-in-law’s antics. 

“He looks like a Noah,” Jo says quietly. “Sweet little face.”

Edward gently brushes his finger along the cheek of the baby in Louis’ right arm—slightly bigger, stretching already, his newborn pout set like he owns the place. “This one came out roaring,” Edward says, his voice full of warmth. “He’s definitely going to be the loud one.”

“Alpha lungs already,” Harry chuckles.

“We’re calling him Elijah Andrew Styles,” Marcel says. “We just… liked the way it sounded. Strong.”

The last baby, lying snugly on Louis’ chest, grunts softly and wiggles her arms. She’s the largest of the three and already scowling like she’s got places to be.

Harry reaches down to stroke her soft dark hair. “And this little one—our alpha girl. She came last, but she made a grand entrance.”

Louis looks down at her, then back up at their moms. “Her name is Violet Joanne Styles.”

Jo gasps, a hand flying to her mouth. Anne blinks rapidly, then looks from Louis to her sons.

“Joanne,” Louis says gently. “We wanted to name her after the two of you. Jo and Anne. You’re both incredible. We wouldn’t have gotten through this pregnancy without you.”

Jo pulls Anne into a teary hug as the triplets beam, pride radiating from them.

“She’s got your eyebrows,” Harry tells his mom with a soft grin.

“And your dramatic flair,” Louis adds, kissing the top of Violet’s head. “She tried to kick her way out, I swear.”

The pups settle against him again, comforted by the steady beat of his heart, their tiny bodies curled close like they already know where they belong.

“Noah, Elijah, and Violet,” Louis whispers. “Our little pack.”

Marcel, Harry, and Edward all reach out, their fingers brushing against tiny fists and downy heads.

They were mates. Now, they’re parents.

And nothing has ever felt more right.