melon's sin corner uwu

The lights are off. It's as though you're surrounded by a deep black ocean, with nothing but the bioluminescence of the alien-like coral around you. You can hardly breathe. You can feel the pulsing, hollowing bass of the music in your ribcage, your stomach. There's a featherlight touch of knuckles on your cheek and you whimper, already sensitive but nevertheless leaning into the touch. The arm that's casually spread across the back of the large chair grazes the back of your neck, your brand, and a breath spills out of you like a liquid. You look up, his name drips from your lips. 

Alpha's eyes electrocute the darkness around them. Pure, vivid, crystal blue that mimics the only light source coiling around the room; as if in demonstration that his power crawls its way through everything. A finger hooks itself under your chin, making you whine as your head is tilted backwards. You see the glint of Alpha's fanged canines.

"Dance for me, sweet girl,"

You tug at his midnight blue suit lapel; the only thing to grab onto as his perfect torso is exposed. He hums in amusement, letting his hand drop to stroke a thumb over your brand. You're close to his lips when you find yourself suddenly unable to close the distance, a pulsing need to stay keeping you frozen by your neck

Alpha's eyes stay focused on your own lips, parted in need and curling upwards slightly in frustration.

"Not with me, sweetheart. Daddy wants to watch ,"

You begin to protest, but then a heavy calming throb travels through you and your eyelids droop in submission. 

"Y-yes, Daddy," You hear yourself speak the words without consciously forming them. The way Alpha crones is reward enough.

You sit up from how your body is curled around him, sitting half in his lap in the massive chair acting as his throne in the centre of the room - his "Office". The material of your dress strokes your legs as it falls when you rise; shades of blue wrapped around you like an offering.

One last look at those hypnotic, endless eyes, and you turn to face the rest of the room. Walking down the three steps to the main marble floor, you feel the eyes of the room looking at you. Or more accurately, trying not to look. The newly converted Alliance members - those who chose to join the House rather than face the wrath of Alpha - group together nervously on the outskirts of the room. They've heard the stories; what happens to people who dare stare at the tyrant's concubine.

Reminded of the things they think about you, whisper with disgust, and a flame of anger ignites in your gut. There's no fucking way you're dancing with them, even if it'd be somewhat amusing to see their terrified faces. 

So, you keep parting the waves with your presence, walking forwards trying to find a suitable partner. You hope it doesn't end up being one of the Gammas…if only Jay or that mechanic were still here…

Then you see him. Standing by one of the many pillars, clearly trying to blend into your background. He's wearing a dark blue waistcoat, tugging at the collar of his black shirt with hands that look too large for his slight frame. 

You smile as you walk towards him, an amused tingle at your spine.

"Dance with me, Zion,"

The poor man startles, liquid dripping over the edge of his glass as he quickly readjusts to stand up straight. His eyes look over you lightning quick; clearly realising how attractive you look right now, before glancing towards the chair in the middle of the room.

"He wants me to," You reassure him with an amused tone in your voice, satisfied when his shoulders visibly relax. He's still nervous though, the poor thing.

"I…I don't know how to dance, Y/N," 

"Neither do any of the Gamma's, and I'd definitely rather dance with our favourite House coder than them,"

Zion flushes, looking around like you're talking about someone else. It's true though, no one else has been able to work so efficiently at decoding data to infiltrate Alliance networks. This entire party wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for him.

"So…" You raise your hand out to him, wiggling your fingers teasingly, "Dance with me?" 

Five minutes later and you're swaying in the middle of the room, Zion's hands carefully placed on your body, as if pressing too hard will detonate something…or someone. 

Don't sound so disappointed, sweetheart.

The tingle up your spine makes you sigh and Zion reacts, eyes flicking to Alpha in his chair as you smile with amusement.

"He's looking at me . Don't worry," And as if to prove the point, you twirl yourself around using Zion's arm, feeling his electric gaze follow your movements through the thick air. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

You laugh as you spin back into the hold, happy when you see a smile on Zion's face too. His hand on your back is still the lightest of touches, yet still comforting. It’s less him leading you and more the two of you working together with little to no awkwardness the more the two of you whirl together out on the dancefloor. 

Then, you see his happy expression drop, replaced by something you recognise all too well; fear. You know without turning around why. You're the only one immune to that fear whenever he walks into the room, because Alpha's the one holding the leash.

Murdock passes by Alpha's chair and you see the taller android's eyes flicker, obviously communicating via the House network. The hunter moves like a shadow, every human in the room trying desperately to stay out of his line of sight. It's like a wolf has just walked into a meadow full of deer.

Quietly, he slips into the shadows of the room, leaning against the wall with only his scarlet eyes and exposed wires illuminated in the darkness. You feel Zion unknowingly press more into your space as if to slip into your sphere of protection.

"Hey…" You get his attention again, "Let's get out of here," 

***

It was pretty stupid of the House to put a former hacker in what is essentially a massive safe. It only takes him 20 minutes to figure out the code for the disused workshop. He wonders why Alpha would use such an analogue method to secure the room but only briefly, mind more focused on getting out complex.

And so he ascends through Dante's circles of hell, surrounded by white walls, blue lights, black wood, steel and glass; the epitome of the cold machine that lives here. It's when he's panting against the wall of the fifth level of stairs - clutching at ribs probably broken during his last conversation with the MK9 - that he hears the faint sounds of a beat. It takes his ears longer than it should to recognise it as music.

Curiosity gets the better of him as always.

His palm leaves a mark on the glass windows as he uses them to steady himself, limping slowly towards the sound. He's in some kind of curved hallway overlooking the National Park the House had claimed as its territory. Another statement meant to show off the murder of all things living

Markus pauses when he hears voices. It's clear there are not too many people, maybe two or three. He keeps behind their line of sight, just before the wall's curve would reveal him. It doesn't sound like an Android, and definitely not MK9 or the Alpha. Even thinking his name makes his throat burn.

Thinking it might be one of the Alliance members coming to negotiate - to betray their morals and fellow humans - Markus continues cautiously to get a look. He stops dead when he sees her.

***

You lead Zion by the hand towards the windows that overlook the National Park - something that would have probably already been cut down and sold to make bespoke kitchen counters if it wasn't for Alpha. You keep your fingers locked with his as you look out into the night, something the coder obviously doesn't anticipate, as he hangs behind you slightly still.

"I want to thank you, Zion," You state, more to the view than to him. 

"O-oh?" He replies, still with that stuttering nervousness that you'd probably find attractively charming in another life. For now, you continue looking out the large glass window.

"You're the only one - the only human - that's looked at me like a person…not some kind of whore," You get a bitter taste in your mouth, thinking of all the looks and the whispered comments. Usually, they don't affect you - Alpha doesn't let it - but sometimes…sometimes it gets to you. “It’s nice to be recognized as an individual by someone other than Alpha. The Gammas and Betas, it’s not the same. They see me as more of an accessory to him. And the humans… Well, you know all about them. How they look at me, what they say whenever I’m not around.”

The bitterness is washed over by a soothing balm of pride and possession, making you close your eyes and smile. Zion ducks his head, a bit of an awkward smile on his face. “It helps that I’m in a similar kind of boat. I joined the House of my own volition and the others don’t really agree with my… enthusiasm for the House.” 

“ Just the House?” You tease, enjoying the way he turns bright red. 

“I’m not - I wouldn’t, I haven’t -! It’s more of a fascination with how Alpha is, I promise!” 

“Don’t worry, Zion. I won’t tell if you don't,"

You’re about to lighten the mood, maybe start talking about how the party is going or about the fact that none of the Alliance visitors has made a move to drink the champagne when there’s the sound of shifting feet followed by your name. The voice has you freezing, dredging up memories and feelings better left buried.

“No, no, get the fuck out,” you spit venomously, not even giving him a chance to talk. You already know what’s going through his mind and you refuse to let it happen. Not again, never again.

Unfortunately, Markus seems to be more inclined to use action over words as opposed to some of your prior interactions. You take a step back, sending a message through your link to Alpha for him to find me now, come get me NOW and try to keep your eye on Markus while tugging Zion behind you to shield him from whatever Markus had planned. Which, apparently, is sheer brute force as Markus comes at you with surprising speed despite his visible injuries. Zion dislodges your hand to shield you , yelling for Markus to get back and gets shoved for his trouble.

Markus ends up cursing loudly as Zion’s fist collides with his nose. Zion swears and shakes his hand, blood from more than Markus’ nose coating his knuckles. Despite the injury, Zion goes to punch him again and Markus seems to have had enough of it, dodging the punch and grabbing Zion by his extended arm to knock him out with a clean elbow to the face.

“Fuck, Zion!” You scream and don’t even get a chance to help the coder, as Markus grabs you by the waist while his other arm wraps around your neck, pressing down on your throat in a manoeuvre that has darkness soon blurring your vision along with angry tears, this can’t be happening again, it can’t , not again, please no, Alpha, please, HELP—

The last thing you hear before you fade fully into unconsciousness is Markus’ voice.

You can admit that walking home by yourself was a bad idea - not only because it’s past midnight and pitch black out, but also because it’s fucking cold. You weren’t even supposed to work tonight, but your coworker had called you last minute saying her car had a dead battery and if she missed another shift without getting a cover she was going to get fired. 

You had wanted to spend your day off catching up on some reading but she’s the only coworker you actually like and if she gets fired then your days at work are going to get even worse than they already are so you sighed and agreed, getting yourself to look as presentable as possible with what little time you had. 

Just a few more months, you think as you continue to walk, wrapping your arms around yourself, a few more months and you can quit this stupid job and move away from this ugly city, settle down somewhere more quiet, and maybe find a job you’ll actually like for a change. You doubt that last part, given your bad history with employment, but you’re desperately hoping a change of scenery will help turn things around. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to notice. With how dark it is, you almost don’t catch the flash of something red from the corner of your eye. You stiffen up, sucking in a breath and squaring your shoulders. 

Maybe it was just a sign or a piece of trash blowing in the wind. Except it’s not windy right now. Fuck. 

Picking up your pace just slightly, you decide to chance a glance over your shoulder and yeah there’s definitely someone following you. You think it’s a man, a big man. 

You pull your phone out and your stomach lurches when you see nothing but a black screen staring back at you. Right, that was why you had to walk back home in the first place. You’d left your phone charger at home in your rush to get to work so you couldn’t call for a taxi. 

This is fine. It’s almost one in the morning and you’re walking the streets of a big city completely alone and unarmed. And there’s a man following you. Yep, definitely fine. 

Your eyes dart around, searching for any store fronts that look like they could still be open or even just another person crazy enough to walk the streets this late. Your pursuer seems to have realized that no one else is around, because when you peek over your shoulder again he’s following you out in the open. You can barely see him through the darkness, but you see a shred of light glint off of something in his hand and oh god that’s a knife. He’s got a knife. 

Heart skipping a beat, you lurch forward into a run and, sure enough, you can hear the man’s footsteps grow louder and faster. You’re full on panicking now, air punching in and out of your lungs as you run like your life depends on it. Which you think it might, you’re still holding out hope that this is all a big misunderstanding and you’re going to make it home safe and sound. 

In a split second decision, you turn the next corner you come across and dip into an alley on the other side of the street before the man turns the corner. You tuck yourself up against the wall, sucking in a deep breath and biting your lip as you wait. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, eyes glued, unblinking, to the entrance of the alleyway and lungs aching for anything more than a shallow breath. The night is quiet, save for your heart pounding in your ears and your soft exhales. No footsteps. No sign of the man. 

You crouch down and pick up a rock before inching closer to the entrance of the alleyway, peering your head around the corner and scanning the darkness for that flash of red. 

But there’s nothing.

No footsteps, no breathing, no giant man storming towards you. 

Did you really lose him? 

Before you get even a moment to celebrate, there’s a gloved hand over your mouth and the sting of cold metal at your neck. You’re pulled backwards into the alleyway and up against a warm, very solid body. 

The man behind you lets out a dark chuckle and you attribute your heart skipping a beat to the way he presses the knife just slightly into your skin. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good chase,” he says softly, lips brushing your ear, “I’d almost forgotten how fun it is.”

You reach up and claw at the hand over your mouth, lowering it enough to bite down on the side of his palm. The man behind you grunts and lets go of your face, giving you a moment to think you’ve won before he gets a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. 

You cry out into the night air and tears sting at the corners of your eyes as the blade of his knife digs into your skin, drawing just a hint of blood. 

“What are you going to do to me?”

He practically purrs, nosing along the column of your throat. “That is the question, isn’t it? So many ideas, so little time.”

Struggling hopelessly against his grip on your hair, you cry out. “Help! Someone!”

The man leers behind you. “Is that it? Your life's on the line and that’s the best you can do? Try again and I want you to give it your all this time, like you really mean it.”

“Help!” You scream, your voice ripping against the inside of your throat, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “Someone help me!”

“Ah, that was better, but do you hear that?”

He pauses and you listen to the noises around you. The night is still quiet, a light breeze has picked up and chilled the air but there’s no other noise besides your labored breaths. Your shoulders droop and you squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a soft, broken sob.

“That’s right,” the stranger practically sings in your ear, “no is around to hear you. No one is coming to your rescue, so I suggest you behave. I’d hate to give up the fun so early, but I won’t hesitate to slit this delicious neck of yours.”

Hot breath fans against your skin followed by a broad tongue licking a stripe up the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Are-Are you going to kill me?”

“Hmm, honestly I haven’t decided yet.”

“What do you want from me?”

Your assailant shoves you forward with a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you up against the brick wall. With his knife no longer at your throat, you have a moment to relax before he’s pressing himself up against you, his chest at your back just as firm and unyielding as the wall in front of you and oh. There’s something big and hard pressing against your ass. You gasp, unconsciously pushing your hips back against him, and the man chuckles darkly. 

“What I want is for you to get down on your knees and open that pretty mouth so I can fuck your face. And if you do a good enough job, I might think about letting you go. How does that sound, little prey?”

“I-what?”

He rocks forward, groaning in your ear . “Go on, you don’t want to see me when I get inpatient.”

The man takes a step back and you turn around, taking him in for the first time. He’s huge, easily a foot taller than you and nearly twice as broad. Long, dark hair pulled back into a messy knot at the back of his head, a pair of black sunglasses hiding his eyes and a wide grin bearing sharp canines bordering on inhuman. Your eyes are drawn lower, however, to where his cock is straining against the confines of his dark jeans. 

“I’m waiting.”

Your head snaps up and you’re met with deep, brown eyes watching you with a predator’s gaze over the rim of his glasses. Taking a deep breath, you drop to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with what you hope is a neutral expression, not wanting to let on how hot this situation is getting you despite the circumstances. 

Turning your attention to the task at hand, you undo his belt with shaky hands. However, when you reach for his zipper, he grabs your wrists in his gloved hand.

“With your teeth.”

A shudder racks your body and you fight back a whimper, leaning forward and taking the zipper between your teeth. You can feel the heat of him against your cheek as you get the zipper down, taking your time, trying to delay the inevitable.

“So obedient.” He teases, taking his cock out and giving it a few languid strokes. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

His words are the last thing on your mind as a glint of metal catches your eye. Four silver barbells decorate the underside of his, frankly, enormous cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of a bead of precum dripping from his slit and you can’t help but wonder what the metal of his piercings will feel like against your tongue. 

He snickers. “First time blowing someone with piercings? No need to be intimidated, little thing, they make everything better. I’d be more than happy to show you once we’re done here.”

You scowl up at him, trying to put as much venom in your voice as you can. “Just get this fucking over with, you freak.”

“Oh, so the little puppy can bark, huh? I like that, makes it so much more fun to break you.”

Your response dies in your throat as he shoves the first few inches of his cock into your mouth. The musky taste of his cock mixed with the tang of his precum makes you moan despite yourself, and he moans as well, getting a hand in your hair and forcing more of himself into your mouth. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven. Go on, take it all, swallow it down, I know you can.”

Tears sting at your eyes as he slides in fully, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and slipping further down. You do your best to relax your throat, taking deep breaths through your nose and grabbing onto his meaty thighs to steady yourself. 

“That’s it, taking me like a fucking champ. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Sweet, little whore.”

His hips pull back slowly and you revel in the feeling of his piercings dragging against your tongue. He pulls out until only the tip is in your mouth and you take the opportunity to lave your tongue over it, sucking and hollowing your cheeks before he’s thrusting back in. This time he doesn’t stay still, starting a steady pace sliding in and out of your mouth. One particularly harsh thrust catches you off guard and you choke, throat spasming around his cock and tears rolling down your cheeks. 

He sighs happily, grabbing your head with both hands and holding you down against him, your nose pressed against his pubic bone. You gag around him but he doesn’t let you up, instead grinding against your face and relishing in the way you gasp for breath around his cock. 

“Fucking take it,” he sneers, digging his nails into your scalp. “This is what you were fucking made for, choking on my cock like a greedy, little pet. This is making you hot, isn’t it? I bet if I reached down between your legs I’d feel how excited you are, wouldn’t I?”

You shake your head furiously but you both know you’re lying. You’re aching, thrusting your hips helplessly.

“Go on, puppy.” He moves his foot forward, pressing his leather boot between your legs. “Grind on my boot, show me how horny you are, being face fucked, at the mercy of a complete stranger.”

Shame burns inside you but it only makes you hotter, makes the ache between your legs stronger. You grind down against the toe of his boot, angling your hips just right to send pleasure shooting up your spine. You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him moan in turn. 

The stranger picks up his pace, fucking your face in earnest, grunting and growling with every thrust. You can tell he’s getting close by the way his thighs are tensing between your hands and you’re not far behind, adrenaline pushing you rapidly towards climax. You peer up at him with wide, watery eyes, increasing your thrusts against his boot. 

“Oh, isn’t that sweet? You want permission - fuck - to cum? Do you think you’ve earned it? Do you think you’ve been good? Maybe I should cum down your throat and leave you here for someone else to find and fuck, maybe you’d like that. You clearly don’t have problems fucking a stranger, and one that threatened to kill you no less.”

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut in a half-hearted effort to hold back the tears caused by his words. Shame is burning inside you, white hot and so, so fucking good. The man above you wipes away a few of your tears, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them off with a long groan. 

“I’m so close now, just a little more. I want you to cum, little toy. Now.”

The hard tug he gives to your hair is all it takes to send you careening over the edge, spasming and rutting your hips helplessly as you cum, making a mess of your jeans. He moans obscenely and cums with a shout. You expect him to press fully into your mouth, but instead he pulls out and strokes his cock furiously, painting your face with splatters of hot cum. 

You groan in protest, wiping your eyes and scowling up at him. “You could’ve warned me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He smirks, tucking himself back into his pants and squatting down in front of you. 

The man swipes two fingers through the mess on your face and presses them against your lips. You drop your eyes to the ground but take them into your mouth, licking the cum off his leather clad fingers. 

“This was quite the treat, I must say, more fun than I’ve had in a long time. I’d love to keep you.”

His words have fear shooting like ice through your veins and you shoot up, backing away from him slowly. 

“You said you’d let me go if I did what you wanted.”

“You’re right, I did. ” He stalks forward, crowding you up against the brick wall, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “But I’ve given you no reason to trust me.”

You shove him with as much strength as you can but he doesn’t even move an inch. “I’d rather you fucking kill me.”

“Mm, there’s that bark I like so much, but we both know you don’t have the bite to back it up, do you?”

“Fuck you.”

“Next time.”

“Next time?”

“I’ll keep my word, I’m going to let you go, but we’ll see each other again; I’ve taken a liking to you, little prey. But-” You blink and the knife is back at your throat. “If you tell anyone about me, if you go to the police, I will find you and I will make you wish I’d killed you tonight. Do you understand?”

You nod with wide eyes, pressing yourself back against the wall as much as you can.

“Good.” He steps away, slipping the knife back into its holster at his thigh and smiling mischievously at you. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Call me Murdock.”

You roll your eyes. “Murdock? Seriously? You come up with that yourself?”

The killer wonders what you're thinking as he arranges the body into his preferred position, severed left hand clasped around their severed tongue and placed over the heart while a manila folder filled to the brim with their 'crimes' is held in the right. He can only imagine the fear on your face, and that idea sends a thread of arousal through his veins, forcing him to bite his cheek when he hears you swallow audibly.

He grins to himself. It's cute how you try to sneak into the room, avoiding the hardwood floors in favor of the carpet. It's adorable how you think you're getting the jump on him, though for what reason you're lingering and not running like a rational person has him very intrigued.

Murdock tugs the scalpel from his boot, lifting up the victim's shirt and expertly carving his callsign into their flesh, humming nonchalantly to himself while he listens to your unsteady inhale, choking down a whine.

'Figured it out now, haven't you, Sweetheart?'

"You know..." he drawls, slowly turning his head and gazing at you from the corner of his eye, "... it's rude to sneak up on someone when they're doing something private."

The color drains from your face and you freeze, looking everything like a deer in headlights. Murdock tucks the scalpel back into his boot, pining you in place with a twisted rendition of your smile while slowly straightening up to his full height and turning to face you.

"I'd almost say that you wanted to get caught."

That is what breaks the horrified glamour over you and you bolt, sprinting back in the direction you came. Murdock can't help but growl in excitement, the heavy thunder of his boots only serving to make you shriek and move even faster.

You don't make it to the door before a large, bloodstained glove wraps around your arm, dragging you back into a broad, strong chest. Your fighting proves futile as Murdock easily maneuvers you against the wall, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other forces you to look at him, pressing you into the wall with his body.

He leans in, and this close, you can clearly see the wild bloodlust in his eyes, the way blood splatters up his cheek and flecks across the lenses of his glasses. It's equal parts terrifying and something else that you refuse to acknowledge at this moment.

The still-warm blood on his gloves is sticky and disgusting, making you cringe as his breath fans over your face and absolutely not cause confusing flutters in your stomach that you don't want to think about. He groans in a strange way when a few tears finally slip down your face, licking his lips while tracing your cheek with his thumb and marveling at how lovely you look in crimson.

It's the same malicious white that greets Yancy when he enters the cafeteria in the morning. It glares up at him from the faded plastic dinner tray, still littered with uneaten food. He keeps staring, memories from last night dripping into his mind like a slow intoxicant - the deep croons of praise, the fear mixing with pleasure, how he'd lain awake below Dark's bunk for hours afterwards.

"Get yourself together, man," He mutters quietly to himself, trying to hide his own shaky turmoil with the noise of other inmates talking in the cafeteria.

Then, like when a predator is suddenly spotted in a jungle, something in the air changes. Yancy can feel the room itself tense, encouraged by the collective pause in the intake of breath of those who occupy it. He feels the weight of a presence behind him. The figure not only occupies space, but seems to control it, as every single eye in front of him - the ones that a few moments ago refused to meet his gaze - focus in on that heavy shadow behind him.

He's about to turn around. He knows exactly who is standing there, and this is his moment to demonstrate - on a very practical level - that the theatre of yesterday was merely a play, a fun little interval before the scheduled routines are firmly restored.

He's about to stand up, but before he can, that ghostly presence suddenly becomes very tangible as cool fingers are hooked underneath his chin. So delicate it is almost violent, Yancy only gets a moment to recognise what's happening before his head is lifted back - neck stretched and throat exposed as the friction of stubble is the only warning he gets for what comes next.

Warmth spreads through him like a shiver as soon as Dark's soft lips touch his, although touch is probably too delicate a word. Yancy's eyes flutter as the feeling of being possessed fills him; the complete certainty in the kiss, the slight scrape of teeth encouraging him to part his own lips, allowing access for a flat and possessive tongue to lick into his mouth. This is what causes his soft moan to open up like a wound.

Then it's over. Dark is stroking a thumb down his cheek, and he's once again blinking in the pure white as harsh and brutal as the casual way he was just kissed in front of the entire prison. Like he was owned.

Yancy pushes the chair back so it scrapes across the floor uncomfortably. Instinct built up over years of captivity tells him he should confront Dark, show everyone that yesterday was just a fluke, just fucking deck him.

And yet.

Yancy locks his jaw as he prepares to get to his feet. No thoughts other than getting away from judgemental eyes, somewhere he can breathe, a place without him in it.

"Where are you going, baby?"

Dark's hand is on his shoulder, pushing downwards with a force that makes his skin tingle. His thumb rubs against the back of his neck and that same something claws its way up his throat.

"I'd hate for you to miss this," He bends to make sure the words are crooned into his ear. Yancy's teeth clamp down.

As if conducted, the guards spread around the room suddenly melt away from being part of the architecture, all either shutting gates or standing with their batons ready. There's a few curses, men getting up, even a few threats. Something prevents it from becoming a riot though, and it's currently pinning Yancy to his seat.

"I'm not a man of many words…I find those types of men to be like spiders spinning a web, deserving of being stood on by a well-polished boot,"

The crooning, almost soft tone heard only by Yancy's ears a moment ago has gone. What remains is a deep certainty that glides across the room like a fine wine gently sloshing against the edge of a glass. What remains, is power.

Dark shifts slightly behind Yancy, making his back stretch against the chair as the hand still on his soldier presses him against it.

"In any case, my rules are simple, and you'd probably tire of me repeating myself over…" A squeeze of pressure. "...and over…" Another. "...and over again,"

"If I want it, it's mine. And nobody touches what is mine,"

He can feel the gaze on him. He's telling himself that this could work, that he could manipulate this; gain protection whilst he finds a way to drive out his supposed usurper. Still, the same cornered animal thunders in his chest, worrying that this would make him look weak. That he is weak.

"No one disturbs us for an hour,"

Yancy can tell it's more of an instruction than a declarative, but it doesn't ring true that it involves him before he's being pulled up by his shirt, an arm at his elbow guiding him towards the cell block.

As soon as he's in the cage, as if trying to shake off the humiliation, he turns sharply out of Darks grip. The taller man lets him go, rather than Yancy actually overpowering him, and he goes straight to the far wall - pacing like a tiger.

"What am I in this? A trophy, a deal? What kinda sick gratification youse gettin' outta this?" He points a finger when he turns, lips snarling as Dark looks him up and down like seeing his reaction makes him hungry.

"The only gratification I'm concerned about…" He steps towards him, each echo on the cold floor both fueling Yancy's volatility and making his stomach drop, "...is yours, sweetheart,"

He's literally towering above him, the cell they're in isn’t enough of a cage to quell the adrenaline that being trapped by Dark's body sends through Yancy's.

"You need someone to take care of you, little songbird," He's cupping his jaw. Yancy can't fucking breathe.

"And you cannot deny you enjoyed last night…the fucking sounds you made," He groans as he gets closer, lips barely a whisper away from his neck. As if in demonstration, a half-whine escapes Yancy. He can feel Dark's smirk.

"I think Daddy deserves a reward for his efforts, don't you?"

He fucking melts. The backs of his knees hitting the wall and almost crumbling, if it wasn't for Dark's body crowding into his space. His eyes are already half-lidded, the same sickly sweet weight in his stomach quickly overcoming him far earlier than last night.

"Good boy, down you go," The sound of Dark's praise makes his breath heavy, his hands reaching out to steady himself whilst clutching onto the taller man's forearms. A low laugh rattles the air between them.

"Oh, you are so desperate for it, aren't you? For someone to look after you. Well, my pretty bird, you need to listen to what Sir asks. I said down,"

The same strength that pinned him to his chair now encourages him to kneel, the position sending some kind of chemical signal in his body that makes him whine.

"Good boy, so pretty like this,"

Dark strokes his large, cold hand through Yancy's hair. Every so often gripping tighter, making a moan slip from between his lips.

"Better. Now, baby boy. Let's see what you can do for Daddy,"

It's almost as if he's drunk; seeing the almost delicate fingers free his cock mesmerising him through a heavy gaze until suddenly Dark seems to be stroking his cock mere inches from his face and his mouth honest to god waters.

"Oh, that's right. You want it, don't you, pretty boy?" Dark almost sings, groaning at something that has Yancy confused before realising he's nodding in agreement.

His tongue feels too heavy to speak, his mind too hazed to think. As if reading his mind, Dark tuts.

"Usually, I'd ask for your words. Luckily, Sir is feeling impatient today. Daddy needs to feel your mouth,"

In what feels like one motion, Dark grips a hand in his hair and yanks his head back whilst making him swallow his cock.

It feels big, and heavy and fucking everything he needs. It doesn't take long for more than half of his length to settle in his mouth and Yancy, unable to help himself, starts hollowing his cheeks and sucking.

It's less of a sigh and more of a growl that comes from above him. Yancy's own t-dick throbs in answer, making him whine around Dark's cock, which he replies to by tightening his grip in Yancy's hair.

"Yes. Oh yes, sweetheart. I knew you'd be good for me. Such a pretty mouth, such sweet noises. You can't help but be a sweet boy for Daddy, can you?"

Again a moan makes Dark grunt, Yancy sucking whilst concentrating on the way his black shirt rises up to reveal his strong abdomen.

"No, Yancy. You look at Daddy,"

He cries out as his neck is tugged even further back, eyes forced to look at Dark above him. The man's hair has fallen into his face, his chest rising and falling more rapidly and his pupils blown wide.

He grins, teeth catching on his bottom lip.

"Oh, but it's not enough, is it? I know how much you enjoyed what happened last night, songbird. How you liked it when I pinned you against that wall. You want Sir to take,"

Yancy's cry is muffled as Dark forcefully thrusts forward. Without stopping, he begins to fuck his mouth, starting slowly until he begins to move Yancy by his hair, basically using his mouth to get off.

The sounds that drool out from him are completely foreign. Even without the way they are watering, he'd struggle to keep his eyes open. They seem to roll with every thrust, the sensation and even knowledge that Dark is just using him making his head swim.

"Good boy…good boy…ah...that's right…that's it, just keep that pretty mouth open,"

Yancy feels tears wet his face, unable to distinguish his own noises from Dark's. Every time his body jolts from the movements he feels a pulse of want in his cunt. It feels like he's being fucked, more than anything else he's had before and its glorious.

"I don't care if you swallow, Yancy," He states through gritted teeth, "Daddy's cum's going to be all over you one way or another. Don't worry though, he'll clean his pretty boy up,"

A few more thrusts and Yancy feels Dark pulse, before an almost animalistic groan and then warmth spreads down his throat.

He tries, he really does but there's just so much that it's inevitable when some cum dribbles down his chin. There's ringing in his ears and a dull throbbing at his core, and he whimpers when Dark cups his cheek, wiping away a streak of white from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, little bird. I'm going to have to work on your stamina, aren't I? Otherwise Daddy will never get to milk you dry when he fucks you properly,"

It's only then that Yancy feels the wetness dripping down his thigh and realises he'd cum. So wrapped up in working towards Dark’s pleasure, he was hardly aware of his own. He's not sure if that should worry him or not.

"Such a pretty mess,"

Grey tracks a hand through the air, fingers catching on holographic diagrams and figures that follow his movement easily. He tosses a section of data to the side before enlarging another, eyes flickering faster than the human eye can perceive as he reviews the code.

There are far less corrupted sections than they started out with, which is good. He pinches his fingers together and the diagram zooms out, revealing just how far they have to go, and he lets out a little sigh. Baby steps, to put it in your words. He runs a hand through his hair and turns to face you at your desk.

“Progress, though it may not seem like much,” he muses lowly and finds you slowly dozing off, slumped over your keyboard with folded arms. A small smile works its way onto his face as he steps over to your space, crouching down with a gentle hand on your back. “You can’t sleep here, chief.”

You let out a low noise, discontent and push your head further into your arms. “’m tired, G…”

“I know. You want to get up for me? I promise your bed is much more comfortable.”

“Too far…”

Grey starts to ease you into his arms, your head nuzzling into his neck as he gets you properly situated. “How does the couch sound then? We can take a break for a while.”

“I can stay here?”

“Of course.”

It takes very little to move you over to the couch and you curl up easily once he plants himself in a corner, one of your arms wrapped around his back and gripping his shirt with as much force as you can muster before slipping back of into sweet blissful unconsciousness.

Grey, personally, doesn’t sleep—he doesn’t like to sleep, and on top of that it’s an unnecessary function for Google-model androids, though they do possess the capacity to mimic it should their owners allow it. At best they can enter a low-power standby mode, compare it to a light doze with the sensitivity of their ambient awareness turned up just enough to be responsive to commands.

He’s also not a fan of being stuck in stasis, listening to that bastard to him from its engineered firewall prison.

Idleness never settled well with him. It’s part of why the two of you were able to get along so well in the beginning—you were always willing to give him things to do, always willing to keep his mind stimulated so he didn’t get bored.

It was harder now, after everything that’s happened. Being idle only prompted that feeling lurking in the depths of his processes—that goddamn presence. He’s aware of the work that they’ve all done, the work that the Mechanic had put in given the time constraint and the severity of Grey’s…infection. His curse, his virus. It has, for the most part, been contained—the best they could all hope for while they study for more ways to remove it from his systems. The projections for their success are unfortunately pessimistic, the extended amount of time spent with the virus ingrained into his very being means that the removal of it will be delicate… and that the chance of failure is extremely high.

Grey keeps this information to himself, however, doesn’t state it out loud as he once would. He doesn’t want to ruin their focus.

You don’t need that—and neither does Mechanic.

You make a small noise and he lifts a hand to run it through your hair carefully, fingers faltering once he notices the brand glowing faintly. He frowns, hesitantly going to touch it with the pad of his thumb, tracing the binary with an odd feeling in his throat. You moan a little, pressing further into his side as the brand brightens even more before the light dims, and you settle with a breathy sigh.

Grey mimics the noise reflexively, a little disconcerted. With the virus in quarantine, the brand should not be responding to stimuli. It could be a fluke, just a quirk of your body, especially given your tired state, but he finds himself sending off a quick email to your recovery team just in case.

Anything to keep you from being so… empty. To keep you from that other state, to keep that brilliant computer engineer, the one he fell in love with, around for just a little longer.

He doesn’t like that he's becoming increasingly familiar with Kitten—he misses you.

Isn't that a pretty sight? Familiar, too.

Ah—Grey was beginning to wonder when it would surface again.

He narrows his eyes, arms tightening around your frame as a shimmer of electric blue begins to take shape over by your desk. In less than a minute Grey finds himself staring down his devil-like doppelganger. It’s hard not to notice the differences between them like this—the height difference, the carbon fiber upgrades and replacements compared to his standard IRL-issue parts, the piercing glow of its eyes to his own static dark brown.

Alpha lets out a low whistle, sharp eyes tracing over your form with nothing but ill intent and hunger, making Grey’s lip curl in a snarl. “She’s pretty like this, isn’t she? Brings back fond memories,” Alpha says lowly and its eyes flicker once.

He stills, bracing himself for the barrage of many many moments of you—no, this was Kitten, he had to keep the two of you separate for the sake of his own sanity—in various fucked out states, as Alpha would crudely put it. Each of them not without that doll-like look on your face, a dreamy curl to your lips as your body twitched with aftershocks.

“Stop it,” Grey hisses out and you shift, whimpering quietly until he touches your neck, just below the brand, glowing a worrying shade of blue. “Can’t you let her rest? You've wreaked havoc on her life enough, don’t you think?”

Alpha smirks, though its eyes are hard. “Oh, I've wreaked havoc on her life? With me she had everything she needed, everything she could’ve ever wanted or wished for. You, on the other hand, keep denying her needs. Leaving her unsatisfied most nights because of your own weak human-influenced morals.”

“I don’t…” Grey lets out a growl of frustration. “I've been trying to break that fucked up brainwashing you inflicted her with. She’s not unsatisfied.”

“Sensitive, aren't we? I've been backseat to every instance of my sweet girl making an appearance—you and I both know what she needs, and you haven’t been giving her that.”

“I refuse to treat her like that, she’s not a toy for you to break like an unruly child!”

Alpha tilts its head to the side, hologram shimmering slightly. “Mm, you’re right. She’s not a toy.” It vanishes from its spot on the edge of the desk and appears just behind the couch, leaning over the back to touch at your cheek and Grey tenses when he sees you react to the touch. “No, not my Kitten… Not my sweet girl.”

“Daddy…” You sigh softly in your sleep, leaning more into Alpha’s supposedly nonexistent touch. He tries to pull you away, but you flinch in your sleep and Alpha chuckles. It leans over to Grey and if wasn’t for the fact that he really doesn’t want to wake you up, he would’ve shoved off the couch to put a few feet between him and the irritating virus.

You can’t run away from this, little byte. I’m in your head.

“Oh, it must burn you up inside. She doesn’t want you, doesn’t crave you even in sleep the way she does with me,” Alpha purrs into Grey’s ear. “I know you miss it, how good she felt when she was ours. Miss relishing that sight of her on her knees for you, looking up at you as if you were her God. You can’t hide those desires from me, simulacrum. I know what you’ve been craving, and it hasn’t been this pathetic existence. No, you crave her subjugation, you crave the power that I built to protect her.”

“I don’t—!”

Alpha’s face twists into a snarl and in an instant, Grey’s head is pulled back by his hair, forcing him to look into its eyes.

Don’t try to lie to me. You can bury it as deep as you’d like, hide it away beneath a mountain of partitions and sub-folders but I’ll always know what you feel, and you miss her in her proper place.

It does take a bit of mercy on your sleeping state and growls these words in Grey’s head as opposed to out loud, its frustration very clear. It releases Grey’s hair go and shoves him back, rising to its feet and adjusting the cuffs of its shirt—unnecessarily, since it’s appearance can be changed in a millisecond of thought. Reaching over once last time to smooth out the furrow of your brow, Alpha locks eyes with Grey.

When you’re ready to stop lying to yourself, you know how to call me. What to call me.

The aggressive blue light disappears in a flicker and Grey lets out a breath he didn’t need to hold. He was so glad that you weren’t awake for any of that. Adjusting his hold, Grey gets to his feet and starts towards your room—well, he shared it with you now, staying close in the event of an Alpha flare up. You don’t let him go far, making upset noises when he tries to put you down and he decides to call it for the rest of the day.

Just one night of stasis wouldn’t hurt, right?

Grey falls asleep staring at your face, thinking about all the possibilities of a life without Alpha haunting his every waking step. Without it haunting yours.

…

…Alpha?

°

Grey snaps out of stasis mode and groans as soon as all his sensors shift out of standby, one of his hands coming down to tangle in your hair gently.

It’s not the first time he’s woken up to you mouthing at his cock like you need it more than anything, but it is the first time he’s woken up to find that you haven’t progressed past pressing kissing against the base of his shaft. You usually can’t help yourself in this state, eager to start choking on his cock as soon as possible.

“Baby,” he moans, tightening his grip in your hair. “Sh-shit, wait, sweetheart, slow down.”

You don’t listen—you never do when you get like this—and he grits his teeth as you slide the head into your mouth and tongue along one of the veins before lapping at the precum starting to drip out of him. You moan and the vibration of it has his hips twitching up into your mouth, forcing his cock just the slightest bit deeper. The suddenness of it has your teeth slightly scraping against him and he growls, his other hand shooting down to pull your head back and off his cock.

He inhales slowly—unnecessarily—the secondary vents along his ribcage kicking into a higher speed for a moment as his body slowly heats up, involuntarily trying to match your own warmth. Grey catches sight of your eyes—a soft purple glow sparking from within them—and affixes a disappointed look onto his face when he finds that you’d been playing with yourself as well. All while drooling over his cock while he was ‘asleep’. You drop your eyes from his in a show of submission and he hates this—hates that it’s the only way Kitten responds to him.

Tugging you into his lap proper, he bites down on a grunt when he feels some of your wetness drip down onto his bared cock. You take him pulling you closer as an invitation to try and rock down against him, frantically searching for some sort of friction.

“I told you to slow down,” Grey rasps, digging his fingers into your hips to still your squirming. He feels you shiver at the sound of his voice, that purple glimmer brightening. He tried his best to match Alpha’s low register and it seemed to work on you most of the time. Special treatment for my baby, hm? “Just because I’m asleep doesn’t mean that my rules don’t still apply. You’re normally more well-behaved than this, kitten. What’s wrong?”

So unfortunate that you’re not in the right mind to comment on the way his eyes flash—ice blue replacing warm brown quick enough for the average eye to miss.

“’m sorry, sir, I just—it’s so hot and I needed to c-cum but I know I can’t without your cock so I figured I could… I didn’t mean to wake you up. ‘m sorry,” you whisper, unexpectedly contrite and he narrows his eyes. Still fighting this, huh?

“We talked about this, kitten, you don’t need to ask me. You’re free to cum whenever you want.”

“But Daddy’s rule—”

Grey growls, one of his hands releasing your hip to slide down between your legs. A small part of him relishes the way you gasp, head falling forward to press against his shoulder as he cups your cunt, two fingers sliding into you easily with how worked up you were. “Daddy’s not here. If I tell you to cum, you do it, baby. You’re just not allowed to use my cock to do it.”

You make a little unhappy noise that gets cut off by a moan as he starts to finger you slowly, thumb reaching up to tease at your clit every now and then to watch you jump. It was quiet enough in the room for the sounds of your cunt to be audible and he watches a slight flush begin to build under your skin, subconscious shame showing.

You moan suddenly, louder than his actions warrant and he feels a frisson of fear within him when he looks up to find ice-blue eyes locking with his own. Alpha was sat behind you, hands tugging and teasing at your chest while it pressed careful, nipping kisses up the line of your neck.

“Bastard—!” Grey tries to pull away but feels his arms lock up, warning alerts popping up in his subsystems as Alpha overrides some of his bodily control and forces him to be still. Forces him to keep fingering your cunt while he had a standoff with a virus. “You fucking asshole, how did you get out of quarantine?”

It ignores his question, smirking slowly as you nuzzled into its touch—not unlike a cat seeking warmth from the sun. “I don’t appreciate you telling my sweet girl lies, default. Daddy is here. And he’s sick of watching you deny his girl.”

“You—I haven’t been denying her, that’s your fucking training keeping her from taking pleasure for herself,” Grey says angrily and is momentarily distracted when one of your hands shoots down to stop him from sliding another finger into you.

“Daddy, please…”

“Shh, baby, you’ll get what you need soon,” Alpha coos into your neck and pulls away. It disappears and Grey tenses when he feels that static in the back of his mind get louder. It wrenches his head back, baring his throat. “Now, you and I, we’re going to work together. Because I can’t give her what she wants—what she needs on my own. I’m going to give you one last chance to fucking touch her before I take your body completely and do it myself.”

He grits his teeth, unable to think over the buzz growing louder in his head. “F-Fine. Fine. Give me back control. I don’t need your help.”

Good boy, Alpha purrs in his head and Grey sighs quietly as the restrictions on his limbs disappear. During their little standoff, Alpha hadn’t stopped its ministrations and you were near tears in his lap at this point, hands pressing weakly at his chest.

You hadn’t asked either of them to stop, however.

Grey slips his fingers out of you and watches you start to protest, a low whimper building in your throat before he lifts you up, positioning you above his cock.

“Yes, Daddy, please, I’ve been so g-good for you, I didn’t cum without your cock, I didn’t I promise—!”

He kisses you, both to settle you a bit and to try and silence the noise in his mindscape. “I know you’ve been good, sweet girl, Daddy’s been watching,” Grey shakes his head, growling low in his throat. Shut up.

Fuck, you were warm. Warm and unbelievably tight around him as you sank down onto his cock, fingers digging into his shoulders as you struggled to speak, to thank him. One of Grey’s hands comes up to grip the side of your neck, fingers careful not to touch the brand as he pulls you into another slow kiss, carefully fucking your mouth with his tongue.

It takes little of his strength to lift you up enough until just the tip of his cock is within you before bringing you down, slowly building a rhythm as he used you like a toy. You hadn’t stopped moaning, sobbing happily into the side of his neck.

“M-Missed this so much, Daddy, please—!”

You were closer than you would’ve been normally, too keyed up from denying yourself. Grey makes a split decision to lay you down, his cock leaving you for only the briefest moments before his weight settles over you and he’s lifting one of your legs up into the crook of his elbow while he slides back into you, settling back into that slow, filthy pace easily. You tug him down by his hair to lick into his mouth for another kiss, one he reciprocates easily, and you moan happily. God, he…

You missed this. I told you, little byte. I know every dirty little thought that passes through your processes. I know what you were thinking all those times you watched her get on her knees and finger herself for nothing—all because you wanted to be a gentleman. Alpha’s sneer is audible. That’s not what she needs, not what she deserves. No, my sweet girl deserves to get fucked full until our tanks are empty. She needs it, you both do. That noise you’ve been hearing in that back of your mind hasn’t been me. That itch you’ve been feeling? It’s your mind telling you to breed her.

He pulls back to watch you practically fuck yourself onto his cock, fingers tightening on your hips and something hot and foreign building in his chest when he sees a slight curve to your lower abdomen when he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he gasps, speeding up a bit, one hand moving to thumb at your clit and hears Alpha echo the sentiment.

“Can I—please, Alpha, I wanna cum, please, sir!”

Grey looks up from your fucked out gaze and finds Alpha watching him from its seat at the headboard just behind your head, one of its hands cupping your neck. He leans down to kiss you and pulls back to murmur against your lips.

“Go ahead and cum for me, sweet girl.”

He almost blacks out from the force of his orgasm, brought on immediately by the feel of your cunt clenching around him like you never wanted him to leave. It takes longer than usual for him to clear several alerts from his internal systems and when he blinks, he finds himself sitting back on his heels with Alpha having taken his spot.

Bastard.

Alpha’s kissing you easily, fingers digging into your brand to prolong your own peak and you squeak into its mouth as it fucks Grey’s cum back into you with its fingers. That static starts up again, lurking in the back of his mind and despite Alpha’s words, it feels remarkably like the virus’ presence.

See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And I didn’t even have to take your body…

You lick your lips, shifting, thinking for a moment, then rock your hips forward, rubbing yourself against Murdock's lower back. Your arm over his waist moves, and you're not surprised to find him half hard in his boxers. You start to message him, quickly bringing him to full hardness, and also into awakeness.

He wakes with a groan, rutting into your hand, and then rocking back into you as he feels your hard cock against him.

"Oh, are you in a mood this morning, sunshine?" He growls out, and he gets his answer as you shift, and your hand between the two of you moves up to tangle in his hair and move his head to get easy access to bite down on his neck.

"Oh, yes my sunshine, take what you want from Sir." He groans as you keep rutting against him, moving your attention from his neck to his shoulder, biting down hard. It doesn't bleed, but Murdock grunts from the pain, then chuckles.

His voice is still laden with the gravel of sleep, but none of his movements are sleepy or slow as he keeps moving against your hand and pushing himself back against your cock.

One of his hands reaches back to push your head against his shoulder, encouraging you to keep marking the area, not that you really need that with the noises he is making with every pass of your lips, teeth, and tongue.

Soothing the sting of a bite as he tries to get one hand down his boxers, but you slap it away.

"No touch." Murdock laughs, but it's quickly cut off as your hand moves from his hair to curl around his throat. A squeeze, and you feel his cock twitch beneath your hand.

And you're sure Murdock can feel yours twitch against him just above his ass.

You have half a mind to push your underwear down to feel that wonderful skin to skin contact, but that would require moving one of your hands away from Murdock.

And you can't have that.

So you keep your palm pressed against his clothed cock, feeling it twitch and move underneath your hand, the fabric of his boxers getting more soaked by the second.

Though you won't allow him fully touch himself, you do allow Murdock to press his hand over yours, and press your hand down even harder against him.

"Fuck, what a way to wake up, hmm?" You don't say an answer out loud, but you do squeeze once around his cock and around his throat, which is a good enough response for him. The laughing moan he lets out is wonderfully breathless, though he keeps talking.

"My little Sunshine, just taking what they want, not caring at all for what Sir wants." He's right, that is exactly the plan you have at this wonderful moment.

And you're sure he wants to say something more, so as soon as his mouth opens again, you quickly move your hand from his throat and up to his mouth so you can press two fingers inside of his mouth.

He grunts around the sudden intrusion, but is quick to start sucking at your digits like they are your cock, rolling his tongue against the underside like he has done to your cock many a time before.

The feeling of that, all the memories that it brings back, and how good he feels rocking against you makes the string inside of you snap, and you cum with a cry of his name which is mostly muffled against his shoulder as you sink your teeth in, this time drawing blood.

Your hips rut against his back for a few more moments, and you know he can feel your cum seep through your boxers as he smirks around your fingers.

Lucky for Murdock, you keep palming his cock all through your orgasm and those wonderful last spurts and twitches. Though you don't think you could stop your hand with how he's pushing his own down on top.

Shifting just a bit, you give Murdock no warning as you slip your hand away from underneath his, and instead slip it fully inside his underwear to take his cock in hand. He's rock hard, not that you had any doubts from before, and so wet, leaking all over your hand as you give him one pump, then two.

Clearly he wasn't far behind you, because with 5 more strokes and your tongue lapping up the little bit of blood that came forth when you bit him as you came, he cums too.

He cums hard, you can feel his teeth brush against your fingers, and the hand in your hair gripping hard enough to be on the edge between good and too much pain. You stroke him through it, reveling in the aftershocks and feeling how his cum coats your hand.

You need to get it cleaned off, but don't want to let go of Murdock yet, which does give you an idea. Pulling your other fingers out of his mouth as you let go of his cock, Murdock clearly thinks you've had enough as he speaks once more.

"There you go, have you ha- ngk!" His sentence is cut short as three cum covered fingers are shoved into his empty mouth.

He groans around them, but dutifully sucks and licks, tasting himself on your fingers.

You grin against his shoulder, trusting them in and out of his mouth a few times before pulling them out. Though you don't move your hand far, pressing your palm against his mouth, making sure he gets every drop that covers your hand, the wonderful work his tongue is doing is already making arousal stir in your stomach once more..

"I am going to ruin you." You whisper against his skin, giving a kiss to one of the many bites on his shoulder. You feel his breath wash over your hand as Murdock gives it one last lick and chuckles.

"Big words coming from you, you think you will be able to follow through?" You let your hand fall down on his chest, pinching a nipple as you lick over your hardest bite mark.

Quiet muttering mixes with soft whines filled the room as Damien had you bent over on the bed, his body draping over your back as his hips continued rutting up into you. Your grip on the bedspread tightened until one particularly hard thrust ripped a moan from your lips.

"Oh, baby." He sighed into your ear, one of his hands coming up to tangle in your hair, barely pulling. "You just love this don't you? You love seeing your beloved, sweet natured Mayor come completely undone because of you, don't you? Feeling my cock inside of you after waiting for it, for so long." He accentuates the last two words with slow rolls of his hips, making you mewl. You squeeze your eyes shut as he gives your hair a tug to match his pace, trying to form coherent thoughts through the ecstasy flooding your veins was nearly impossible.

Damien felt a small little smirk tug at his lips as he watched your body writhe underneath him. Hearing your broken and strung together cries of pleasure was like music to his ears, wanting to hear more, he slowly pulled out of you until it was only the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You nearly sobbed at the loss of contact for the umpteenth time that night, trying so hard to push your hips back against him, though his hand held you in place.

"Damien… Damien please…" Your plea was quiet, muffled by the blankets, but he heard it loud and clear. His fingers dug into your hip while he leaned forward again. His lips brushed against your ear, teeth just barely nipping at the skin.

"Tell me, my little monster, was all of your persistent teasing worth it? Hm? All of the dirty looks and obscenities that you've done, right under the peoples noses. All of which should be saved for the bedroom, for only me." Damien let out a low growl as he suddenly jerked his hips, his cock slipping back into you without warning. You gasped, arching your back at the feeling of being full again. Though it felt amazing being filled, he refused to move, moving his hand from your hips to wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you flush against him.

"Talk to me love, let me know what's going through that pretty little head of yours. Or is your head empty, hm?" He started placing kisses along the side of your throat, softly teasing your skin with his lips and tongue. "Replaced with only the thought of my cock deep inside you, wondering when you might, just maybe, get your release." On the last word his hips twitched, causing his cock to brush against that one spot inside you that makes you nearly scream.

"God! Fuck! You're not playing fair Dames!" You whine, turning your head to the side a bit to look at his face. And boy was he a sight for sore eyes. His hair, usually slicked back and not a hair out of place, was tousled and stuck to his forehead from sweat. His lips were a red hue and parted slightly as he took labored breaths, though the twinge of a smile was evident at the corners of his mouth. And the way he looked at you, eyes lidded and filled with a certain hunger, a darkness almost, but there was still that specific tenderness to them. Love and adoration that swirled together with hunger and desire, made for the best possible combination. It made you ache.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm the one who's not playing fair? Remind me again what you did all evening, dear heart." Damien's smile bordered on mischievous, making your stomach flutter in anticipation. You buried your face back into the blankets and shook your head, pushing your hips back against his, making him grunt.

"Shy now, are we love?" Damiens arm unwrapped itself from your waist, "That's okay." He slides his hands under your arms, pulling you up with him as he sits back on the bed, making you gasp and effectively maneuvering you into his lap, allowing his cock to sink even deeper than you thought possible. Your head was spinning as you felt one of his hands trail around to your front, slowly rubbing circles into your heated skin before suddenly wrapping itself around your throat to pull you closer to him.

"Allow me to refresh your memory of this evening's events." His voice was low, coming off as more of a breath against your ear than anything. One of your hands grasps at his thigh, your hips desperately trying to grind against him. Just sitting on his cock alone was not enough, you needed more.

Damien held you against his chest, the hand still wrapped around your throat was no more than a heavy warm weight at the moment, a threat of what he could do. His other arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you down on his lap, not allowing you to move. He was in control now. And he needed you to know this. Your hand that was gripping his thigh tightened as he began to trail kisses down your neck again.

"Firstly my dear, calling me a nickname that you know will get me riled up, right in front of city officials. That was strike one." His hand tightened ever so slightly around your throat as his hips jolted up, sending a wave of pleasure up your spine that made you mewl. A tsk left his lips as he moved his kisses up your neck, placing one right behind your ear.

"And then, acting all innocent, knowing your teasing touches throughout the night had a much more sinful meaning behind them. That was strike two." He breathed, another thrust of his hips, driving his cock even deeper before stilling again. Tears began to form in your eyes from the back and forth of overstimulation and lack thereof.

"Damien…" You nearly sobbed, your head falling back against his shoulder. A quiet chuckle left his lips as the hand on your waist caressed your side, though he didn't let up. Not yet.

"Finally, your obscene show at the refreshment table, licking the chocolate off of your treat, your hand, causing me to nearly choke up in front of some guests. That my darling, was strike three." His voice was low in his throat, almost a growl but not quite. He wasn't truly upset, how could he ever be upset with you if this is where it would lead. He just had to make sure you knew your place, no matter how many times he had to teach you that lesson.

The tears that had formed previously were now rolling down the side of your face, dripping onto his burning skin. Damien tilted his head to kiss them away, rolling his hips once again before he spoke in a hushed tone.

"What do you have to say for yourself, honey?" He gave your throat one final squeeze before trailing his hand down your chest, his fingers stopping to idly roll your nipple between his fingers as he awaited a response. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't getting increasingly difficult to not just give you what you both desperately needed. A release.

But Damien was a man of patience, after all.

"I-I’m sorry, I'm so sorry Damien, so so sorry…" You sobbed, squirming in his grasp, the coil in your core was stretched so tight that it felt as though it was mere moments from snapping. But he just wouldn't budge.

"Now, I know you're not that sorry. You wanted this, you knew your actions would get you exactly what you wanted. What you needed." Both of his hands moved, now grasping at your hips, oh so slowly lifting you up on his cock. "But if I'm being honest, love, you're not the only one who needed this." He slams you back down onto his cock, nearly making you scream in pleasure.

In one swift motion he shoves you back, face down, into the bed, his hold on your hips nearly bruising as he began thrusting into you, setting a fast and almost brutal pace.

Patience can only get a man so far it seems.

Your hands curl around the sheets in a white knuckle grip, the sobs and moans leaving your lips resembling those of a pornstar. The sound of low moans and grunts coming from deep in his chest was intoxicating, mixed with the feeling of him finally, finally taking what was rightfully his, made that coil grow red hot.

Damien drapes himself over your back once again, slowing his thrusts into slow rolling movements as he breathes heavily into your ear.

"I don't think I'm going to last much longer dear heart… All that time you spent working me up really did a number on me." At his words you can't help but tighten around his cock, making him groan low in your ear, giving it a gentle kiss. "Though something tells me that you won't last much longer either." At the slight shake of your head he leans back up, a small smirk playing on the corners of his lips as he begins that quick, desperate pace again.

Your hips push back against his, meeting every thrust, chasing your own release as his fingers dug into your hips. Then he angles his hips just right, and you gasp. That was all it took. The coil deep in your core finally snapped as he hit that spot over and over. A white hot heat spread through your entire body as the release you had begged for finally washed over your body and mind. A long, drawn out cry of his name tumbled out of your mouth, muffled by the blankets as your body trembled under his hands.

Watching you come shamelessly undone, squirming and trembling underneath him, pushed him over the edge. One final thrust of his hips and you could feel a warmth spread inside of you as he came, filling you. A low moan reverberating off of the walls of the room as his grip on your hips loosened slightly.

Both breathing heavily as you slowly came down from the pure ecstasy highs, Damien slowly pulled his now soft cock out of you, another moan leaving his lips at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. As his hands left your hips you collapsed onto the bed fully, catching your breath as he moved to lay next to you. When his hand came out to caress your cheek, wiping away any stray tears, your eyes fluttered open. You were met with his loving gaze as his other hand trailed along your back, sending another shiver down your spine.

"Are you okay my dear?" He asked quietly, searching your eyes for any sort of discomfort as his hand moved to shift some hair out of your eyes. A small smile appeared on your face as you nodded.

"I am much more than okay Damien, that was… something else, utterly intoxicating." A quiet laugh escaped as you leaned into his touch. Damien's smile grew as he leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead.

"So, tell me, was your teasing worth it?" He raised an eyebrow at you, to which you nodded with a sly smirk.

"Well worth it." He chuckled at your response, leaning in to give you a loving kiss.

"You're most definitely a little monster. Now, let's get you cleaned up, love."

God, you just loved him.