#cucking

You nodded a little shyly. You and Simon had been dating for a while now and Johnny’s presence was one you were used to, but not like this - never like this. “…yes, m’sorry.” You mumbled out after Johnny prompted you. Of course you didn't know what to say, your thoughts were probably all over the place right now.

Your boyfriend hummed deeply, causing your skin to prickle with excitement. “Don’t worry about it, you just get a little dumb when I touch you like this, hm? You like being looked at while I do it?” He asked you while his thumb rubbed circles over your clothed clit at the same time.

You nodded slightly embarrassed and turned your eyes away from Johnny, whose gaze was fixed on Simon’s movements. “Hmm, yes...”

“Yeah?” Simon repeated your answer as he spread your leg wider with one hand on your thigh to give his best friend a better view of your cunt. “Let him see a bit more then,” he replied as he grabbed the side of your panties so that he could pull them away from your pussy. He always liked fucking you while you kept them on since they looked so cute on you. Such a stark contrast against his throbbing dick.

Johnny groaned as he caught sight of your puffy little hole and held his cock over his pants as if trying to control himself. “Bloody hell, were ya two fuckin’ last night or why does her cunt look so damn raw?”

Simon tried shoving your panties even further to the side, hooking his other arm under your thigh so he could push your lips apart since he wanted to get a better look. “This morning, actually.” He replied curtly while looking over your shoulder for a second, before lifting your body a little so that he could pull down his sweatpants and boxers. “She should be prepped enough. What do you think mate, should I just tuck it in?” He asked his best friend, talking over you as if you weren’t even there - as if you had no say in anything because you were only here to take what Simon was willing to give you.

You felt yourself getting wetter at the thought and instinctively wanted to close your legs to cause some friction. Though, your boyfriend kept a firm grip on your leg as he waited for a response.

Johnny’s eyes glazed over at how big Simon’s cock was next to your swollen little hole. He watched as he began to rub it with your slick, imagining taking his friends cock deep down his throat so that he could slide into you even easier afterward. “It’s still gonna hurt...” he mumbled to himself, wanting to see it happen.

Simon grunted. “It’s gonna hurt no matter what I do.” He stated. “Even bled like a virgin the first time we did it.”

A groan escaped Johnny’s mouth as he threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut to keep himself from cumming in his pants like a pathetic loser here and now. “Do it then. Force it in her, aye?”

Simon's eyes finally met yours. “You heard him, luv.” Was all he said as he moved your body the way he wanted - as if you really were just his little dolly. He spread your legs wide with his hands before briefly releasing his hold on your body so that he could position his tip at your sensitive opening.

You could already feel the first tears gathering in your eyes when your boyfriend stuffed you bit by bit. He tried to comfort you with his closeness and hushed whispers, but he didn’t slow down even when you begged him to. “Please Si. It hurts, hurts so much. Stop for a second.” You cried out but Simon made no move to comply with your request. “Hush, m‘almost done. Just take the last bit like a good girl and cry some more for me, yeah?” He whispered in a grunting voice, squeezing the rest into you with one last thrust and sighing happily after he felt his hips touch your ass. “Good. Now spread your legs.” He ordered you after he released his grip so that you could shakily show off what was going on between them.

Simon was pleased with your presentation as he pulled your shirt over your breasts so you could look even prettier for them. “You see that Johnny?” He asked him as if he hadn’t been trying not to blink for the last few minutes so that he wouldn’t miss anything. “Pretty girl, took it to the hilt.”

“Aye, looks like ya were right...” He replied and didn’t mind losing the little argument between them. Not in the slightest, he thought while his eyes remained focused on the scene before him.

“...the sig— …weak…SITREP…undergr— … —range noise…report back…out.”

Leon clutches the radio so hard it makes his leather glove squeak as your voice crackles, barely intelligible. He has been trying to reach you for the past hour with little success. This entire place has bad signal, and now you're out there alone in this hellhole and he has no way to reach you.

He did pick up on the fragmented word ‘underground,’ though, and he hopes he can follow that lead to find you fast. He doesn't know what he would do with himself if something were to happen to you.

As he trudges through a dark tunnel leading into the subterranean level, his gun and flashlight pointed, he feels the atmosphere steadily increase in temperature around him. What was cold, dry air slowly morphs into a warm, thick and humid fog that clings to his pores like a second skin.

He wipes his forehead from sweat that beads on his temple, then pauses in his steps when he hears a distant, muffled wail.

Without second thought, Leon picks up speed, his boots hitting the ground in rhythmic thumps until he reaches a large metal gate at the end of the tunnel. He holds the flashlight between his neck and shoulder, then pushes the heavy door with a grunt, sighing of relief when he finds it unlocked.

Inside the cavernous space, the lighting is dimmed to near obscurity, with red LEDs barely illuminating the misty, sweet smelling air—a scent akin to honey flooding his nose.

As he struggles to make out his surroundings, Leon hears another muffled noise that sounds an awful lot like you. His blood runs cold, and feeling like his flash is making visibility worse through the haze, he decides to turn it off and runs closer to the sound source.

Then, he sees it in the corner. A giant, shapeless atrocity with viscous, charcoal skin that glistens in crimson specs under the red illumination. He cannot make out its limbs, its body distorted like a blob and moving in a slithering fashion that makes his skin crawl. What makes it even more gut-churning are the giant bulbous eyes growing sporadically throughout its body, their ice blue pupils gazing everywhere and nowhere all at once.

When he hears your voice distinctly again, he realizes you’re obstructed from view by the humongous abomination, and quickly understands he must be facing its back—if it even has one.

Leon hurries to the other side to find you, his heart thundering in his chest as he prepares for the worst. His mind is racing with what potential torture this thing must be putting you under, but out of all the possibilities nothing could have prepared him for the sight he finds.

You’re suspended in the air by wriggling tendrils that seem to be constricting your lungs, making you gasp in labored breaths, but you're unable to do so properly with your lips covered. A slimy tentacle is wrapped firmly around your head, obstructing your mouth, and thus forcing you to breathe rapidly through your nose.

The truly frightening part, however, is that the snake-like limbs appear to be releasing a greasy substance that’s causing your clothes to melt like acid. With your arms held behind your back and your legs forcibly spread, the fibers of your shirt and pants fall in pieces on the humid ground. Every shredded fragment causes you to become increasingly more exposed.

Gunshots resound across the echoey chamber before Leon fully registers what he’s looking at, his instincts taking over as he begins firing at the creature holding you hostage. Bullet after bullet hit its glistening flesh, gliding appendages, and cerulean orbs, but they bounce off of it like rubber, failing to pierce its skin.

“Fuck!” the agent curses in frustration, trying and failing not to let panic overwhelm his senses like the sickly-sweet mist filling his airways.

He unslings his shotgun, firing all the shells in his possession to no avail. The BOW keeps holding you without being affected, now melting your underwear as its tentacles roam your body slowly.

“Christ,” Leon’s voice breaks, dread swallowing him whole when even grenades don't do the job. The abomination doesn't even fully acknowledge his attempts, simply giving him a lazy side-eyed look from one of its bigger eyeballs.

When all hope drains, there is nothing left in the blonde’s power as he watches a slimy tendril prod at your cunt’s entrance with gentleness unfit for a monster. Two smaller ones circle and pull at your uncovered nipples, with another thumbing at your clit in a parody of love-making.

The agent feels every hair on his body stand in horror, his gut twisting in nausea. He can hardly make out your expression in the dark, but from your trembling legs he can tell you are petrified, and he doesn't even know what to do with himself anymore.

The thing penetrates you, its sizable limb parting your walls open as your muffled sobs go unheard. It’s so big, so deep, the outline of its violation shows through unnatural bulging on your stomach. Every slow drag inside makes it appear, distending your skin, then lazily pulling back again.

Leon falls to his knees in despair, swallowing the bile coming up his throat as he watches the scene like a trainwreck, unable to look away from the horror. There's a fleeting thought in his mind to use the remaining bullet in his clip to put you out of your misery, but he shoves it away as fast as it comes.

But then, he hears it. Another sound. This time, it’s not one of pain, but one of begrudging pleasure, he is sure.

His eyes widen when your suspended form is shifted closer to where he kneels, your face now more visible to him. He feels his breathing stutter as he makes out your expression. Your hair is sweaty, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide, and your eyebrows are scrunched in involuntary bliss as more moans spill out of you.

Every pump inside your cunt makes you whine, and now that he can see you better, he notices just how soaking wet you are. He isn't sure if it's from your arousal or the monster’s greasy secretions, but he is certain you are enjoying the act if the way your hips move back in tandem with its thrusts is anything to go by.

Leon breathes harder, the honey-smelling air permeating his lungs as he stares at you in disbelief, your teary eyes meeting his.

How can you enjoy this? How can this nightmare fuel of a creature bring you pleasure? He must be imagining things.

“Mmpleath,” you plead in a stifled whimper, and the BOW responds by removing the limb that was covering your mouth.

The agent watches you take sharp gasps of air, your naked chest heaving from the motion, and just when he expects you to scream now that you can, you do the exact opposite.

“Leon…” you sob, your voice barely a whisper, and he feels his heart break into a million pieces. He stands immediately to step closer—as if to offer you comfort he knows he can't provide.

“S-Sweetheart,” the petname slips out before he can catch it. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I— I don't know w-what to do, I can't stop it, I tried everything—”

He’s interrupted by another one of your moans, this one far more obscene now that it's unobstructed in the echoey cavern.

“T-Too much! Wait, please, no— I’m gonna… gonna…”

One moment you're pleading, and the very next you're cumming so hard your entire body seizes up like it's been electrocuted.

Leon can see every one of your muscles tensing, the tendons on your neck bulging and your eyes rolling back. Through the fog, he notices a spray of liquid spurt out and splatter at his feet noisily, and it takes him a second to realize it's you squirting like a fountain.

“Oh, fuck,” he chokes, his eyes darting between the shimmering puddle and your suspended frame. A sudden twitch in his gut makes him pause—that wasn't nausea this time.

You’re barely recovering from your orgasm when you get swung around, now held upside down as the thrusts get faster. Your breasts bounce repeatedly with every movement, while the tendrils continue stimulating your nipples and folds.

The agent is about to say something—an apology or maybe even a prayer. But soon enough, you’re orgasming again, and this time the gushing wetness from your pussy hits you directly on your own neck and face, soiling you even more than you already were.

The sight is hypnotic, or at least that's what Leon’s brain thinks as he watches you get continuously violated. You don't stop moaning, crying in pleasure that's bordering on pain in its intensity, and he, on the other hand, feels his pants tighten with every passing minute.

He isn't sure what could possibly prompt his cock to react so deranged. Maybe it's the fact his feelings for you are so intense it's making him desperate. Or maybe it's the squelching of your soaked pussy every time it gets pounded. Or, it could also be the way you cry out his name, causing his head to go dizzy.

“Leon— Leon…”

He swallows thickly, attempting to regain control over his fraying senses—and morals.

“I-I’m here, kid… I’m right here.”

With your head upside down, you look at him with wet eyes and a trembling lip like he’s the only thing keeping you sane while your body gets ravaged.

“Can't stop c-cumming,” you strain out. And as if to demonstrate the truth of your statement, the thumb sized membrane rubbing your clit gives it a few flicks that have you wetting yourself with your own squirt yet again.

Leon suddenly feels thirsty, and he almost debates leaning forward to catch the next bout of liquid in his mouth, before he resigns to palming himself instead. It was meant to readjust his aching cock in its confines, but now he can't stop rubbing himself through his pants.

Even through your hazy mind, you question the unhinged act with a whine. “What are you—”

“You're s-so beautiful,” he interjects, as if that is enough of a reason. He knows it's not. He knows the need coursing through his body is not normal nor is it justified. And yet, his dick keeps throbbing, so he keeps soothing it.

“You’re…” you begin, just to violently cum again, your head probably hurting at this point from your inverted position.

“So beautiful…” he murmurs in awe, his voice unrecognizable with arousal, “...a-and only I get to see it.”

Well, him and the eye-covered deformity.

With that thought in mind, he chucks off a glove and shoves a hand in his boxer briefs under his belt. He feels like his body is moving on its own as he takes his pulsing length out of its restraints, the tip glistening with precum.

As if responding to his unhinged actions, the BOW moves you again. It turns you back the right way up to your great relief, only to then dangle you closer to the man and pound you from behind. It's like the thing is offering him a better view of your rape, its penetrating limb fucking you harder only a foot away from Leon’s ice blues.

His hand speeds up on his veiny cock, just as your screams get louder from the brutal pounding against your cervix that makes your toes curl. He can't look away. He can't stop. You’re too beautiful, too perfect, too sweet—and he keeps fisting his dick despite the simultaneous disgust he feels with himself.

“Can’t… P-Please, enough,” you're begging for mercy, another climax ripping through you like a tsunami, so forceful, you nearly blackout.

“Fuck, keep going,” he rasps out the demand to the abomination, cruelly disregarding your pleas.

Leon and the monstrosity become nearly in sync with their movements, growing faster and more erratic with each passing second. The agent can feel himself near release, and it seems the creature feels the same from the way its tentacle begins to swell inside you, nearly doubling in size.

“Wait, wait— No, no, no, please, d-don’t! Please!” you shriek in fear of your impending demise, feeling the climb of the orgasm that is sure to knock you out and the stretch that is bound to break you.

Neither the man nor the monster care for your supplications, and with synchronized motions, they both reach their peak. One floods your insides in ungodly amounts of viscous cum, while the other desecrates your face with thick spurts of creamy, white semen. You climax alongside them, but you have no strength left in your voice box to make a sound.

When the tentacles lay you down on the ground a moment later, your eyes are already closed, body completely limp and covered in sticky filth.

Leon’s chest heaves as he looks down at you, the fog of arousal clearing just enough for dread to settle in its place. The glistening streaks on your face are slowly dripping down your cheeks, and you’re laying so still he can't even tell if you're breathing. Not that it matters after what he has just done.

The charcoal blob stares at him intently, its blue orbs unblinking while he tucks himself back in his pants with trembling hands. He doesn't meet its soul-piercing gaze, too much of a coward to acknowledge his partner in crime.

At last, with a shaky breath, he turns on his heels to walk back out through the metal gate, leaving you behind with the demon. There is no point attempting to save you anymore when he took part in your ruin.

As the door shuts behind him with a gust of hot wind, his hand hovers over his gun holster, and now he understands. That last bullet is meant for him.

if you have made it here, thank you for reading 🖤 below you will find the chapter analysis for YGBO readers! if you don't read the series you don't need to bother with that

sidenote but i'm proud of myself for that banner! believe it or not i wrote the chapter before even planning the pictures and the fact i was able to make it look exactly as what's described makes me proud of myself :D i just snapped those screenshots (with leon as grace mod) and then edited birkin's eyes into blue, and made the whole thing look like a dreamy/hazy illustration on picsart :D

Desecrated: Analysis

Friends! It feels so weird to write to you guys with proper punctuation as opposed to my all-lower caps what's-a-period style of commenting. But we are gathered here for serious business, so this only seems fit.

This optional YGBO chapter is something that I have enjoyed writing a lot, especially when pairing the concept of a dream sequence (or in this case nightmare) with filthy, dead-dove smut.

In here, I thought I would provide some insight on the symbolisms and inner meanings of this chapter as they pertain to Leon’s character, and the dark place his mind went to after chapter 22.

As you know, mentor!Leon feels a lot of guilt first and foremost. That, along with self-loathing, are key characteristics of what makes up his personality in this story. It’s based on many parts of his canon self, but his relationship with Reader is of course what exacerbates these sentiments for him in this fic.

The dream is presented in a work setting, on a mission, because Leon is everlastingly worried about Reader getting hurt during an operation. He harbors a lot of contrition over the fact she chose to follow him in this profession, even if he never encouraged her to do so.

The idea of her getting badly injured, or God forbid killed by a BOW, is something he unfortunately thinks about often, because he himself has had to face his own mortality many a times. It’s part of the job to come face to face with near death experiences, but it doesn't mean it ever gets any easier.

Now, the most glaring symbol in the chapter is the focus on the monster’s blue eyes, which of course match Leon’s. The reason for that is unsurprisingly the fact that the creature is meant to represent him. Or at least, his own view of himself as he relates to Reader.

Picking the topic of sexual assault (apart from me being a non-con fan) is meant to convey Leon’s intense shame over his sexual feelings for Reader.

Not only that, the point in making it non-consensual, is the fact Leon’s guilt runs so deep, he is convinced he has somehow used her when they had sex in her apartment, even if she was evidently a willing participant.

As we know, the reveal of her long-held feelings of almost a decade has sent him into a downward spiral. He was already battling himself to indulge in a friends with benefits situation with her, thinking he can keep secretly loving her while maintaining the arrangement. But then he learns that she loves him, which already makes him panic, because why would brilliant Reader love him of all people? And then it’s made far worse by finding out she has harbored feelings for him from the tender age of sixteen.

The monster violating Reader, is how his subconscious decides to reinterpret their night of tender love-making. More parallels for that can be seen through the BOW’s gentle handling of Reader and its insistence on bringing her pleasure.

When it comes to her repeatedly orgasming involuntarily, it can be understood as Leon’s brain portraying Reader’s love for the man despite him not being ‘good’ for her. She should not love him, and yet she does.

Also, the sweet-smelling mist can be seen as their feelings for each other, and how overwhelming, and haze-like they feel, especially when in each other's embrace. Additionally, her being swung upside down can be interpreted as Leon’s effect on her life, since it drastically changed the moment he entered it.

Now, if the blob of eyeballs represents Leon’s shameful desire, then he himself represents his moral code.

He fights the monster in the beginning, but its want for Reader is too strong and too big to be defeated. Which is when the man loses his hope and ‘morals,’ and knows his feelings for Reader are never going away.

When he embraces that side of him, letting himself drown in the yearning, and encouraging it to keep going, his mind frames it as complete and utter betrayal. Reader is begging him to stop, and he continues mercilessly, until she quite literally dies because of him.

Yes, Leon is dramatic, but that is what depression does to a person.

In the end, he can't even face his own reflection—the creature—anymore, and he flees the scene just like he did after her confession. Even if he knows hiding will only make things worse, and why he calls himself a 'coward’ for it.

Finally, the remaining bullet in his gun is very obviously Leon’s suicidal ideations, even if he never plans on acting on them, knowing fully how much it would destroy Reader if he did.

With that, we come to the conclusion of this analysis. I hope I was able to shed light on the intentions behind it (I swear it wasn't just to write monsterfuck cuckholding Leon, trust) and how it falls within the broader story.

I am aware its tone is far, far different than the rest of the series, and I know not everyone will be able to read it, which is completely understandable and I highly encourage you to abstain if the content warnings affect you.

But, to those who did read it, I would like to express a sincere thank you. I love being able to write all kinds of stories and genres, and if you're here to read them all, then I truly appreciate that from the bottom of my heart.

Thanks again, you guys, and asstuh looehgow as the man himself would say.

You're Gonna Be Okay Chapter 23

they ate. they talked. dennis didn’t want to pry about anything sensitive, so he asked about work, about what pope liked to do, about his taste in life. pope liked nice things. liked things that worked like they should. liked things clean. liked things in order. liked things a little predictable. he explained how dishwashers should actually be loaded with powdered soap, in section. because the dishwasher ran a prewash, wash, and rinse. so throwing a soap pod in would mean the soap only got used in the prewash cycle. you needed to pour powdered soap into the door trap, then a little powdered soap into the prewash tray atop the closed door trap. you could see the divot on it.

dennis looked at him dreamily.

“what?” pope said it with a little smile.

“do you know you’re a little autistic? it makes me swoon. it must make everyone else swoon, too. i feel swooned.”

pope blushed. just a light color on his high cheekbones. “i’m autistic?”

“on god.” dennis sat up straight. “you have to know this.”

pope shook his head, brow furrowing.

dennis reached across the table and took pope’s hands. “let me introduce you to a good friend of mine. another resident at PTMC. maybe we could uh…” dennis trailed off. if he introduced pope to mel, people would ask about abbot.

pope must have picked up on it and pulled his hands back. “you want to hide us from my brother.” it was just a statement.

dennis looked away. he didn’t even blush. he felt weird. how would it go? would jack try to stake his claim in public if dennis brought pope into the realm of others? dennis sighed and turned his palms upward. “he’s my boss. your his brother. he commands me to not got involved. i don’t listen. he commands me to not let anyone at PTMC know about you. i don’t listen.”

“you’ve told people?”

“my roommate. she’s another doctor there. when you sent the-“ dennis did blush- “the roses. she saw them when i got the box. she wanted to know about you. i told her you were just a friend i’d helped out with a medical problem.” dennis smiled into his own lap. “she thinks you’re great. and wants to meet you. she knows about the date we went on to the museum. and about this date.” he glanced up at pope. then he frowned. “i want to show you off. it shouldn’t be a problem. but, it is.”

“but. it is. because my brother is nervous i’ll fuck up his life.”

dennis raised a brow, then dropped it. “yeah. which i don’t think is fair, considering how he’s perfectly good at fucking up his life himself.”

that made pope bark a sharp, short laugh. he grinned at dennis, shimmied a little in his seat and he leaned forward. he had such a glint in his pretty eye. “wanna get out of here?”

dennis insisted on paying and told pope that he had to pay because they were both men. to which pope snorted and told him he was older and richer and therefore he should pay. to which dennis told pope that he himself was a doctor and would therefore be very rich very soon. to which pope replied that was a rich thought considering dennis would be in medical debt for decades, also citing decreasing doctor pay. to which dennis responded that maybe a socialist uprising would occur and eliminate student debt. to which pope laughed and pulled him in at the register and kissed his forehead.

it was very sweet. dennis folded into pope’s side, smiled into his chest. “i like this,” he muttered.

“yeah?” pope asked.

“yeah.”

and dennis did pay. and it was nice. and they drove back to pope’s place (because lena was at jack’s so jack could go about his life) and pope took his shirt off and then dennis was leaving happy kisses across his scarred body.

he pushed pope into the bedroom. the big man seemed to enjoy dennis’s enthusiasm, his taking control. seemed to enjoy the way the young man was trying to pin his hands behind his back and have his way. pope let it go on till he was hard and big, then he took control in an instant and flipped them over, hips pressed between dennis’s thighs.

pope frowned, holding dennis’s hands to either side of him. “where’s your cock?”

dennis blushed. your brother asked me the same thing.

pope cocked his head. “you’re… trans?”

dennis nodded. and it was then that pope used a length of sheet to tie dennis’s hands above his head to the headboard.

dennis protested but pope had dennis’s pants off, his socks off, had his hips propped up with a pillow. he dragged dennis’s boxers off before he pushed dennis’s thighs apart, eyes feasting. as dennis still was twisting and whining about wanting to touch, pope said, “shut up or i’ll gag you.” it made dennis’s thighs clench. pope reached between dennis’s legs, fingered the wet slit from bottom to top. he pinched dennis’s tdick and earned a yelp and a whimper for his experiment.

“asshole stop inspecting me,” dennis said. “i wanna make love.”

pope blinked up at him. “you wanna make love, with me?”

dennis blushed. “yeah. i wanna do it slow and sweet.”

pope grinned, crawled up dennis’s body. “are you just saying that cuz you lost the wrestling match?”

dennis arched up under him.

“huh?” pope kissed him full on the mouth and dennis wrapped his legs around pope’s clothed waist. pope pulled back to say, “yeah? you need this? tell me you need this.”

“i need you, pope.”

“call me andrew.”

dennis whimpered. “andrew, i need you.” he tried to pull andrew back down with his legs, but the bigger man broke the hold by sliding his big arms between dennis’s legs and himself and twisting his torso, lifting and unlocking dennis’s ankles.

dennis mouth hung open as andrew stepped out of reach. he shucked his pants. stripped completely. god be was the same size as abbot. christ.

dennis bucked his hips.

andrew crawled back onto him. kissed him. asked, “you wanna be in control?”

dennis nodded into another kiss.

“you wanna tie me up?”

dennis whimpered into andrew’s mouth. “please.”

“i like hearing you beg to tie me up.” they kissed again and dennis felt strong fingers stroking his tdick. he arched his back into the touch, eyes closing. “you can try tying me up, little doctor. but you should know as soon as i want you how i want you i’m breaking whatever restraints you have me in.”

dennis whimpered. god was he whimpering a lot around the two brothers.

“don’t stop,” andrew whispered, sliding two fingers into dennis. “i like your noises.” he kissed dennis and dennis moaned into his mouth as the man twisted his fingers and curled them hard. “you’re my man. too bad you don’t have a real cock to fuck me with. not that i would have let you if you did.” his thumb stroked lazy circles on dennis’s clit. “this is mine. you need lube for me?”

dennis nodded. “yes, please.”

pope untied him, got the lube and a condom. he let dennis roll it on, let dennis slick the condom with lube, let dennis climb on top and sink down and oh– dennis whimpered when he got onto the width of it all.

“yeah,” pope was rocking up into him. “like this?”

dennis began to ride, slow and in earnest. pope was big enough for pleasure, just as big if not bigger than his brother. dennis felt so good.

pope threw his head back, hands gentle and firm at dennis’s waist. neither of them spoke, they just enjoyed it, enjoyed each other. eventually dennis leaned down and sloppily kissed pope and pope flipped them, fucking dennis with ease. the pounding made dennis’s mouth hang open, made pope spit on his tongue, made dennis tear at his back. this was different than jack. pope fucked into him at a steady mind numbing pace. where jack had been rough and tearing, andrew was deliberate, exacting. funny how andrew was more the surgeon in bed than jack was. dennis was so lost in the man fucking into him. he wanted to tell pope he was just his. wanted to text jack and tell him he was done. wanted to move in to pope’s bedroom and never leave. he realized vaguely he was holding pope to him and vocalizing a pathetic “uh” at each deep thrust.

“gonna cum, sweetheart,” pope said, quietly. “you wanna cum with me?”

“yes yes yes.” dennis pried at pope’s back with his short nails, digging and huffing as the man began to drill into him. if he had thought pope was going hard before he had been wrong. he could feel his insides surge up, feel his diaphragm compress with each thrust.

“don’t touch yourself,” pope commanded. he was becoming a little breathless, finally. “don’t you dare.” he kissed dennis’s cheek. “unless you don’t think you can cum without it.”

“i can,” dennis said. “ah. andrew. fuck.”

the man had changed their position just slightly, had pushed dennis’s legs a little wider, was holding his ankles out in the air. how andrew was doing that and keeping the punishing pace dennis had no idea. he could feel the splay of huge muscles under his hands, the strain of the hard thick muscles. it made dennis begin to clench on andrew as he pulled back on each thrust. he had done this once before with a man, the clenching at the back stroke. it had made the man mumble worship about his pussy for a week. andrew began to gasp and fuck him harder, made andrew’s high voice come out in an even higher whimper. “fuck, baby, you feel good.”

dennis was grinning, proud. but he knew also he could never make pope’s cock feel that good if pope hadn’t put him in the right mental space to do it, his pussy trying to milk the man of it’s own volition.

dennis came as andrew lost full control, jack-rabbiting hard into his pulsing cunt. he clutched at pope’s neck, shaking and shaking. they lay together the way they had fucked, stuck together with sweat and throbbing in and around the other.

pope eventually pulled out, kissed dennis on the mouth, and lifted him gently into the air. “come on, baby. don’t want you getting a UTI.” he carried dennis to the bathroom and set him down on the toilet. “piss.” and dennis did. his piss dribbled out of him he had been fucked so good. he felt a little embarrassed, distantly. he was too blissed out to care. when he was done andrew paused and then hauled him into the shower and kissed him, cleaned him. he carried him back to bed and made him drink water before sleeping.

dennis kissed each of andrew’s knuckles. kissed his wrist. kissed his cheekbones and his eyelids. they fell asleep tangled together in the dark sheets.

***

dennis woke early in the morning to andrew bringing him a bowl of fruit in bed. he had work in a few hours.

dennis bit his tongue. he wanted to ask pope if he was still andrew’s this morning. he wanted to be andrew’s today. but he knew jack was waiting. he knew jack wanted to fuck him again. every morning and night jack’s eyes flicked to him once at hand off. it was a ravenous promise every twelve hours.

dennis plucked a piece of cantaloupe from the bowl. he settled for saying, “last night was…” he looked up at andrew. “i want that again.”

andrew’s mouth quirked. he looked so soft like this, his hair mussed funny from sleep. “yeah?”

“do you?”

andrew lowered himself onto the bed so they were eye level. “something’s on your mind.”

“how?” dennis cocked his head. “how could you tell?”

andrew’s smile was sad.

dennis looked down, played with his own fingers. it was awkward now. was it because he had held back from the truth? was it because of jack?

“is it jack?” andrew asked. he set the bowl of fruit on the table, sidled closer. “tell me.”

dennis’s stomach turned. should he tell pope? should he tell andrew? he looked up, captured by the big soft eyes. jack be damned. this man was softer than the emergency doctor could be. and andy wasn’t a fucking cop. psycho, maybe. but not any more than jack. jack who had basically assaulted him as a starting point for intimacy. dennis could still feel the canvas weave of jack’s pants as the man had shoved dennis’s head into his lap.

andrew leaned down a little, catching dennis’s eyes.

“do you know anything about non-monogamy?”

andrew frowned. “what?”

dennis wrapped his arms around himself. “the idea that two people who are dating are also dating other people?”

andrew didn’t say anything, he didn’t pull away either.

“i– someone else wants me. i’m worried i can’t… can’t be monogamous with you. we-“ dennis shook his head, covered his eyes- “it’s very weird. his, my– our. i can’t explain it. he–“

“hey. hey.” andrew had come closer, was wrapping his arms around dennis the way he would comfort lena. it made dennis’s heart wobble. “start from the beginning.”

“i can’t,” dennis choked. “i’m not in love with him but he’s possessive. i’m worried you or i or both of us will get hurt. or you’ll hurt him. i– i don’t know.”

“is he capable of hurting us?”

“yes. but i don’t think he would. well… i don’t know. i used to trust him.”

andrew tilted dennis’s face up, studied him.

“andrew?”

andrew just looked at him.

dennis took a shaky breath. “what do you want?”

“i want what you want.” it was a strangely earnest statement.

dennis shook his head, pushed pope gently backward till the man was laying on the bed with his feet on the floor. dennis straddled him. “andrew. i’m serious.” dennis searched the impassive face below him. “i don’t want you to just want what i want. i’m not gonna leave just because you have preferences.”

andrew took slow deep breathes, his hands came up carefully, carefully cupping dennis’s face. “i don’t care.”

“say it,” dennis said, taking in andrew’s heartbreaking expression. “say whatever impulse you think is too demanding to say out loud. the thing you’re burying; i want to know it.” he kissed pope’s palm. hot tears slid into those same calloused palms. “please, andrew.”

andrew pulled dennis down, kissed along his jaw line, cradled dennis to his chest. “i’ll take whatever part of you i can get.”

it made dennis sad and mad. andrew wasn’t second best. he was andrew. he was so sweet. so strong. he had so much restraint. he fought himself for others. dennis wiped at his own tears. “don’t you want me to yourself?”

andrew’s brow furrowed. “do you… want that? do you want me to have you? to myself?”

dennis bit his lip. he felt crazy. was he crazy? “i… i want…” he shook his head, wiped at his eyes again. “i want you there-“ he leaned in till his mouth was buried in andrew’s neck, up against his ear- “like… like my own guardian angel.”

andrew’s breath came slow and even. controlled. his arms had tightened around dennis, and dennis was very aware of his own arousal, and of the hard length of andrew in his shorts. he was crushed into andrew and it made him so very needy.

andrew’s fingers made circles on dennis’s shoulder. very quietly, so quietly it was barely a whisper, andrew asked, “are you asking me to follow you?”

dennis turned his face down into andrew’s shoulder, he whined, his hips ground down of their own volition.

“hey. dennis? baby? you asking me to stalk you?”

“yes.”

“yeah?”

dennis’s yes tore out of him. andrew was crushing him. it felt so good.

“and then you want to come home to me and have slow, good sex? like i’m not tailing you all the time?”

dennis whined into his neck.

“yeah?” andrew asked, his lips were against dennis’s ear. “you want me to be a possessive freak?”

“i want you to be happy,” dennis said, barely able to get the words out through andrew’s squeeze. “do you-“ gasp- “think you’d like to stalk me?”

in a heartbeat andrew had dennis on his back on the bed, andrew’s face was buried in dennis’s stomach, his big arms wrapped around dennis’s hips. andrew nosed at his naked stomach, at the blonde treasure trail. “you don’t even know.”

“know what?” dennis begged. “andrew!” the man was licking hot stripes across dennis’s lower abdomen. “andrew,” he whined.

“baby,” andrew said slowly, “details. tell me what you think i ought to do. tell me you want it.”

“i do!” dennis gasped. “i want you to stalk me. i like the thought you could take me anytime anywhere but you won’t, or don’t, or you might.” dennis moaned as andrew began to suck his inner thigh. “i want you to stalk me, please baby. andrew. i want you to protect me. he scares me. i want to know you’re there in case he does something i don’t want. i want you. i want you.” he was half screaming at the mouth on his legs, the hands pinning him down. “i want you to see me sleeping. i want you to see me leaving work. i want you checking trinity’s car when we’re going grocery shopping. i want, i want you to be an animal for me. to me.”

that made the big man moan into his thigh. “yeah?”

“please,” dennis begged. “please fuck me like you own me.”

“because i do own you,” pope snarled. he flipped dennis over on the bed so dennis was on his knees, and within a moment he had slid into dennis’s pussy. just like jack.

dennis cried out. he wasn’t quite ready, still sore from the previous night. but he didn’t care because pope was fucking him roughly, a hand on the back of his neck, and he was loving it. he knew he would bleed, he didn’t care.

but apparently pope cared because there was a pause and a cold squeeze of what must have been lube. and then it was better.

“give me your hand,” pope commanded.

dennis did as he was told, reaching up and back till pope took his hand. pope held his hand as he fucked into dennis, was near silent except for some needy grunts as he railed him. he was still holding dennis’s hand when he came. “good boy,” pope grunted, spilling inside dennis. fuck.

dennis whined. “thank you,” he gasped. “thank you, andrew. thank you for breeding me.” he blushed to say it but he wanted to say it. he liked being bred.

andrew kissed down his neck, still buried in him from behind. “i had to, baby. i know jack came in you.” at dennis’s look of confusion andrew added, “of course i know.” he pressed his face to the side of dennis’s face. “i was gonna wait to cum in you, wait till you begged me for it, but you… you want me to follow you. i’ve been following you. you chose me over jack. you’re mine.” he fucked gently into dennis again, earning a pathetic whine. “yeah? you are. i won.” pope’s voice cracked. “you’re mine.”

dennis moaned, he was clenching around pope. he was clenching and he couldn’t stop. he hadn’t cum but he was so close.

“do you think you deserve to cum?” pope bit down on dennis’s shoulder. dennis yelped, pressing back onto pope’s still hard cock. pope hissed but didn’t pull out. pope licked the bite and said, “call him.”

dennis shook his head.

“yeah,” pope said. “call him. i don’t want him to know that i know, i won’t make a sound. you’re going to call him. you’re going to tell him in your fucked out voice that you’re thinking about him. you’re gonna ask him how he wants you to touch yourself. you’re gonna tell him we had sex for the first time, but it wasn’t enough. and then i’m going to do it. i’m going to do whatever he tells you to do, to you. his instructions, my hands. okay? and when his suggestions don’t work, i’ll help you how you need it.”

dennis was sure his nose was going to start bleeding from how badly he wanted this. he groped with his free arm for his phone. it was provided. through tears of pleasure and pain he toggled to jack’s contact, pressed the call button.

jack picked up on the second ring. that high, near identical voice sang through the line. “dennis? are you okay?”

“yeah,” dennis sniffed. he was breathing hard. he couldn’t even hear pope behind him, even though he could still feel pope inside him, still hard and filling. was andrew even breathing?

“dennis?” there was a pause. “are you sure you’re okay? did he hurt you? why did you call me, baby?”

dennis whimpered. still pope didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. dennis was clenching and whimpering, on the phone with his brother, and andrew was enjoying it.

“dennis, talk to me.”

“jack,” dennis whined. “he wasn’t enough.”

“oh.” jack’s tone changed. “you need me? is that it?” he sounded so sweet, and dennis could hear jack’s growing arousal with each word. “is my waste-of-space little brother not capable of getting your tight little hole wet enough? couldn’t take you there? doesn’t know how you need it rough?”

dennis could hear pope’s commands in his head, could feel just how rough andrew had been. “he was okay,” dennis lied. “but he wasn’t enough. i woke up still needing. jack. i need you. i’m in his bed. he went out to get us breakfast. i… i want you to tell me how i should– should–”

jack already knew, and his tone was so self-satisfied when he commanded dennis to stroke himself.

pope pulled out of dennis and dennis gasped at the loss of him. the gasp made jack’s tone of pleasure increase. jack had no idea it was because of pope’s cock leaving his pussy, his cum still inside, against jack’s orders.

“fuck,” dennis moaned as pope began to stroke him with thumb and forefinger and knuckle.

“that’s a good boy,” jack said. “go ahead and finger yourself, too, think of me. think of how i’m gonna come pick you up on wednesday night, gonna fill you up.” jack moaned. “i know what you need. a little bigger. a little older.”

dennis threw his head back, blissed out. but pope tapped his leg, forcing dennis to lift his head. he whined but pope’s eyes made him behave. pope raised one, then two, then three fingers, eyebrow raised in question. pope wanted to know how many fingers…

“jack?” dennis breathed, staring into andrew’s fiery eyes. “how many fingers?”

“three, baby. i’m bigger than him.”

dennis let out the most disgusting strangled keening noise as pope pushed three enormous fingers into him.

“that’s it baby,” jack whispered. “yeah. i’m there, baby, those are my hands.”

dennis felt pope snarl into his thigh more than saw it.

“do i feel good?” jack asked.

“yes, sir. fuck.” dennis keened again. “jack!”

“yeah?” jack asked. dennis could hear a faint sound on jack’s end of the phone. he was jerking himself off. jack added, “when is he getting back?”

“i don’t know,” dennis whimpered. “probably soon.”

“better hurry, baby. pinch the head of your dick on the upstroke.”

pope did as jack commanded, earning a fucked out yelp from dennis.

“just like that,” jack praised. he had no idea it was his brother he was praising. “you’re so good at taking instructions. it’s all robby can talk about. s‘how i knew you’d be good for me.”

the thought of jack gaining information about him made his thighs shake, that and pope doing what he was doing. jack was good at this game, but andrew was better.

“more,” dennis whined.

jack thought it was for him, but pope dipped his head with an insane grin and began to suck the head of dennis’s tdick as he simultaneously stroked him and fingered him. whatever else jack said after that was lost on dennis. he moaned, he whimpered, his legs shook. finally he came, calling out jack’s name as he squeezed his legs around pope’s head.

“i’ll see you at work tonight,” jack said. “i’m happy to babysit lena anytime. tell andy that. make sure you tell him i said i was happy to help out.”

“i’ll tell him,” dennis said, gasping as pope slowly dragged his fingers out. “thank you, sir. thank you.”

“anytime, baby.” with an audible grunt jack came. “good boy.”

pope reached up and ended the call.

dennis stared at pope, he could hardly wet his lips he was so spent. and pope was staring at him, chin wet.

andrew crawled up dennis’s body. he kissed him, slow and happy, threaded his slicked fingers into dennis’s hair, dragged them over dennis’s face. when he had kissed his fill pope hauled dennis up and carried him to the bathroom again, commanded him to piss.

“you autistic, fuck,” dennis said softly, trying to pee. it came out in pathetic little spurts.

pope got down to eye level with dennis, gripping his face. “you’re mine. you can let him fuck you, but i’ll be there. i expect you to finger all his cum out of you. i don’t care what it takes. yeah? cuz if you don’t get rid of it i will. i’ll come in and do it myself and it’ll be a risk. understand?”

“yes, andrew.”