#spatialanswers

How you made it this far was beyond you. You were running on pure adrenaline, every morning waking up with maybe three hours of sleep under your belt and a hungry, aching stomach. You’d ditched most of your food in the evenings, unable to eat from the anxiety that flooded your veins and contracted your stomach into horrible cramps.

Every waking minute left you terrified, looking around at the remaining survivors and afraid anytime you thought about the night the lights went out. The night when you watched many like-minded participants murdered in cold blood by those who voted to continue the games.

By now, you were weary of everyone. You’d found yourself once in Thanos’ gang in the earlier rounds, but that had gone to shit. There were only three of you left—Minsu, Namgyu and you. 

You’d avoided each other since that night. 

You watched from a careful distance as Namgyu babied Thanos’ necklace, dipping into the pills inside. You watched as Minsu hid away from both of you, both terrified and guilt-ridden of his lack of action that night. You decided to stay away. 

Nothing good could come from interacting with either of them. 

That was, until game four happened.

As you stood in the room before the games, a blue ball in your hand—you looked over and saw both Namgyu and Minsu on the opposite side of the room. Your heart stopped as the rules were announced. Watching in horror as you were given a measly rounded key, and each member of the red team was given a knife. Bullshit.

Your eyes landed on Namgyu, watching as he admired the knife. Seeing the bright red blood pool from his finger as he tested the sharpness of the blade. He tongued the blood, licking it clean as he looked over his shoulder, and those sharp, fox-like eyes landed right on you.

Your blood ran cold, muscles tensing as a wicked smile grew on his lips. Namgyu waved the blade, giggling like a crazed psycho.

You knew you weren’t his favourite—not after you voted to end the games. If Semi hadn’t died by his hands that night, it would’ve been you. You were sure of it.

To think, at one point, you’d had feelings for him. Well, ‘feelings’ was an egregious descriptor. The night after the pentathlon, you found yourself in his bunk when you couldn’t sleep, your mouth on his and quietly stifling whimpers as his hands pushed past your sweats. His words had been so sickeningly sweet, easing you into a night of pleasure that you hadn’t experienced in so long. He kissed you so tenderly, fingers plunging deep inside of you and curling to hit that perfect spot until you saw stars.

With red cheeks, you looked away from him and ahead at the guards. 

Game start.

The blue team filtered through the doors first, given a headstart to find their way to the exit. You hadn’t expected a maze, with various hallways, dead ends, and so much repetition that you’d begun to get dizzy. Your anxiety had started spiralling, especially when the red team was let in..

Only five minutes in, you heard the sounds of distant screaming as the red team preyed on the blue team.

“Shit,” you whimpered under your breath as you stumbled upon a closed door. You could hear distant footsteps, heavy as if chasing. With fidgety fingers, you managed to unlock the door and slip into the room that was painted brightly like a child’s daycare room. Quietly, you closed the door behind you and listened to the footsteps walk past, and your attention drifted around the room as you took it in. 

Then, you saw the other door.

You perked up, rushing towards it only for your key to not budge into its slot—a square?

Everyone had different keys.

After a couple of more minutes, you peeked your head out of the door. You looked both ways, knowing you’d need to be sneaky. Slipping out of the door, you quietly tiptoed down the hall, flinching anytime you heard a distant yelp or shout.

You were quiet, so quiet. You had managed to find the body of another blue player, their necklace hanging loose around their neck and bloodied—a square. With shaky handywork, you removed it and strung it around your neck and turned to face the opposite direction. All you needed was to retrace your steps and head back to the room you’d found. Surely a room with more doors was a good sign.

Carefully, you padded and made it to the end of the hall and turned right.

That’s when your eyes landed on him. Blood coating his face and vest. A wild, distant look in his eyes.

“You,” Namgyu spoke, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading on his lips as he pointed the knife in your direction. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he continued, stepping forward and scraping the sharp end of the knife against the wall as you backed up.

Your back hit the wall behind you, the scraping of the knife sending chills up your spine and making your head hurt.

“You’re such a rat. You hide so well!” He laughed, a sound you almost didn’t recognize. With how dark his eyes were, you couldn’t see—but you were certain his pupils were fully blown out. It was how Thanos’ were in those first few games he played.

His footsteps were light as he walked towards you, and it wasn’t until that moment that you understood the genuine fear of being preyed upon. You couldn’t recognize the crazed man he’d become, and your heart sank deep into the pit of your stomach. For a few moments, you accepted death, feeling the cold wall behind you. You wondered if maybe this was a good thing, that you could finally escape this hellscape.

It was the sound of a blood-curdling scream that brought you back to reality, and you ran.

Pushing yourself from the wall, you used it as leverage to sprint down the hallway to your left, and you could hear the sounds of him yelling out your name from a distance. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, not when he was as high as he was. He had more stamina, and you were far more clumsy and tripping anytime you turned a sharp corner.

It wasn’t until you felt your lungs beginning to burn that you found an open door to your right. It took everything to hold your breath and remain hidden as you slipped inside and closed the door just enough to cover you from the hallway. You felt like you were going to pass out, needing to heave and breathe, but you kept your hand tight over your mouth and nose.

Footsteps neared, slowing. You hid further to the wall, hoping that if he opened the door, you’d be hidden perfectly behind it.

You could fight him off if he found you. You could kick him between his legs or his stomach and make a run for it. As your mind ran rampant with ideas of how to protect yourself, you weren’t ready for what you saw. A stranger. A player you hadn’t recognized, likely within Player 100’s gang.

You froze, eyes wide and watching as he stepped into the room and turned to look behind the door, noticing you.

In a second, you attempted to sprint past, but he grabbed your jacket and threw you back into the room. You crashed against the floor, gasping as the wind was knocked from your chest.

“I thought I was going to fucking die,” the man breathed, thankful to have run into you. “You sneaky thing. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

You looked up at him as he stepped towards you, his hand tightening around his knife. You kicked your legs a few times, a futile attempt as he kicked them aside, and you winced at the rough hit. 

You saw him bend forward and swing, and you covered your face with your arms to protect whatever you could, but the pain from the blade never came. All you heard was the sound of struggling and huffing, then the door slamming shut. The door banged a few times, and it felt too good to be true. 

You were saved.

You dropped your arms and looked to see you’re saviour, sitting up slightly—then you paled. 

Namgyu had his back pressed to the door, feet firm on the ground, as the man who had tried to kill you attempted to push into the room. You shook your head, scrambling back until your head hit the wall and you felt momentarily dizzy.

“Please, don’t—” you murmured, all you could say.

Namgyu crinkled his nose, turning his head to the door, “She’s mine!” He hissed. And just like that, his prayers were answered as the forceful shoves of his teammate ceased, and instead, you both heard a woman’s scream and retreating footsteps.

His eyes returned to you, and you shook your head.

Your mouth had gone dry; you wanted this to end, but not from him, not like this. You wanted to go back home, back to your dingy little apartment. Your safety net where you could gamble all your money away and smoke all the weed you could until everything was numb. Your old life was better than this. You could suffer more if it meant getting away from his hellscape.

“You…” Namgyu chuckled, stepping away from the door. The hand that held the knife fell to his side, and the other pushed back over his face, then his hair, smearing the fresh blood over his skin. “You scared me.”

Puzzled, you stared at him in silence. He was erratic, and you didn’t want to upset him.

Slowly, he bent his knees into a kneeling position, elbows on his knees and hands hanging loose. His head cocked to the side, “Stop running and hiding. I’m tired of chasing you.”

“Go away,” you mumbled, fingers pressing harder into the floor beside you. “Please, just let me go. Namgyu, please—”

“That’s what I like about you,” he grinned, using the knife to point at you again, “You always say it right. You never treated me like I was worse than you.”

And why would you? Out of these games, you were sure you and Namgyu were alike. Running through different paths of addiction and debt. All of you were. There was no sense in pretending like anyone was better.

You perked up slightly.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Namgyu’s eyes flickered down to the blade in his hands, corners of his lips curling. He looked at you and narrowed his eyes. 

“You don’t want me to? I’ve killed three people already… four would just mean there’s more money for us who want to keep playing.” He said, eyeing you up. His voice was unwavering and a bit giddy. He was enjoying this.

Slowly, you shifted until you rose to your feet, unsteady in your movements and swaying. He followed, standing back up. You both stared at each other, and you weren’t sure if he was going to kill you or not. You wondered if maybe—just maybe—you could talk your way out of this. Feed into what he wanted to hear.

At the same time, you weren’t sure if you could. Not with that crazy look in his eyes.

The timing of this game was your saviour, though. The sound of another scream caused Namgyu to look over his shoulder, noticing the door slightly ajar as the sound reverberated in. It was your only chance; you had a brief moment in time where this could work.

You took it.

With quick steps, you shot forward and used all the strength you could muster to shove Namgyu to the side. He stumbled over his feet, but he hadn’t fallen like you hoped. Still, you went for the door. It was your only escape.

Fingers curled into your hair, and you cursed yourself for not having it pinned away like others had. You had grabbed the door knob, opening the door, but it was no use when Namgyu kicked it shut and slammed you against it.

You gasped, wincing in pain as your front hit the door. He stood behind you, pressed against you, and held the knife to the skin of your jaw.

“You’re easy to rile up,” he whispered, his breath against your ear. Warm and ticklish. The knife pressed against your skin hard, almost breaking it and drawing blood until he pulled back. “You’re too pretty to cut up,” he murmured, inhaling your scent as his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

“Namgyu,” you whined, hands pressing between your chest and the door. Your nails scratched at the wood, itching to escape.

“If I wanted you dead I would’ve let that asshole kill you,” he whispered, and it sent a chill down your spine. “I wanted to make sure no one else got you first.”

You didn’t answer.

The sound of clattering caught your attention, and you looked down at the knife on the floor, bloodied. You looked back up, over your shoulder and saw Namgyu. You saw that sweet smile on his face. You were so close that you finally saw the blown pupils under the harsh lighting of the room.

You wondered if it was the drugs. That tomorrow he’d wake up, and in the next game, you’d be running from him again because he wasn’t in his right mind now. As much you wanted to get away from the insanity of the games and forget it all happened… somehow—in some fucked up way—you believed him.

“Why me?” You asked quietly, your voice nothing higher than a soft squeak.

“Because I can’t close my eyes without seeing your face all fucked out,” he huffed, two bloody hands grabbing at your hips. “I need to see it again. I want to hear you say my name while I fuck you. I need it bad.”

Your entire brain scrambled as he spoke to you, like he was begging. He whimpered into your ear, rutting against your ass pathetically and you were almost sure it was the drugs making him feel this way, but the heat growing between your thighs was unbearable.

“Fuck,” you whimpered under your breath, a soft sound escaping your throat as one of his hands pushed up under your shirt and the other into your sweats. Your toes curled into your shoes, and you gave in.

You were sure that this was going to bite you in the ass—that trusting anyone else this far into the games was a bad idea. Yet, his hands were so missed on our body.

You were just as fucked up as he was, even without the drugs.

The smell of freshly brewed black tea, the scent strong enough to flutter your eyes open as your body stretched across the bed. A mess of blankets, one body beside you, and the winter sun filtering through the half-shut curtains. The daylight on your skin warmed your body, a feeling that you had missed during the past few weeks of dreary weather that left most Piltover citizens huddled away indoors.

“Good morning,” a tired voice rumbled next to you, muscled arms wrapping around your body and tugging you close. You were nestled into Jayce’s chest, face pressed against his skin, and wanting nothing more than to fall right back into sleep and forget about the day and any responsibilities you may have.

“Mmh,” you grunted in response, inhaling a deep breath as you peered up through sleep-riddled eyes. Your eyes locked with Jayce’s, a beautiful colour mixed of golden hues that put the evening sun to shame, “I like this new look,” you hummed quietly, fingers tracing along the edge of the beard he had yet to shave. Even his hair had begun to curl over his ears.

“Yeah?” He grinned, revealing that stupid tooth gap between his two front teeth you loved so much, “I don’t know. I’m starting to feel a bit shaggy.”

The blanket slipped from your body as you sat up in the bed next to him, yawning as your arms outstretched above you and a familiar hand smoothed over your hip, “it looks good, Jayce,” you said through a soft smile, “it’s not like you have anyone to impress these days.”

“Ouch,” he smirked, shifting to sit up against the pillows, hand moving over your thigh as you sat next to him, “suppose you’re right.”

Life had been quiet since Jayce stepped down from the council, focusing full-time on hextech with Viktor, exploring the possibilities and understanding the hexcore. It was meticulous work, but it was work that needed to be done. They both vowed their lives to it.

“Where’s Viktor?” You looked toward the open bedroom door, the smell of tea still wafting through the air. He couldn’t have been gone from bed for too long, likely set up somewhere with scatterings of research papers. Or a good book if he was taking a break.

Jayce sat forward, removing his hand from you so he could push the blankets off and swing his legs off of the bed. His movements slow as his body slowly woke up, “Is it just me, or has he been distant lately?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shuffling off of the bed and sliding into your slippers, the floorboards cool from the deep drops in temperature outside, “I tried asking him about it yesterday, and he brushed me off.”

“Mhm,” Jayce mumbled passively, stepping beside you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you against his chest, rousing a giggle from you. 

“Stop,” you laughed loudly as he kissed at your neck and ear, the thick hair on his face tickling you.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled lowly into your ear, you could feel his smile on your skin, “we better go say good morning.”

“Already ahead of you,” you rolled your eyes, peeling away from his arms and stepping out into the hallway that lead you right to him. There he sat in the office they’d set up for home, hunched over the desk with a cup of steaming tea and eyes glued to one of the hundreds of research notebooks they’d collected.

“Good morning, love,” you hummed, stepping into the mess of a room and smiling brightly as Viktor glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyes were tired, cheeks rather sunken in – ill. Over the course of the past few months he’d been struggling more, but stubborn when you and Jayce offered help.

“Morning,” he murmured, running a hand over his tired eyes, “thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“I bet you would’ve really liked that, wouldn’t you?” You asked, shaking your head as you stepped toward him and against the back of his chair, eyes scouring over the pages, “Getting work done?” Your hand absently rested on his shoulder, the other brushing through his hair that flipped out at the ends.

Viktor’s body relaxed in your hands, eyes closing, “Not really,” he sighed, and you could feel the defeat that had sunken in him. 

You only then had realized Jayce didn’t follow you in, the distant sound of the shower starting.

“Hey,” you murmured, inhaling a deep breath as you moved to sit up on the desk, your line of sight above Viktor as you looked down at him, “what’s wrong?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, a quick shake of his head following as he adjusted himself on his seat, “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Viktor,” you tilted your head, hand stealing the book away from his hands. His eyes snapped open immediately, trying to reach for the notes, but you pulled it away and set it on the other side of yourself, “I’m not leaving you alone unless you talk with me. Properly this time.”

A heavy sigh came from his lips, looking up at you with the faintest of pouts on his lips, “are you going to ask me why I’ve been distant again? Or is it something else to bother me about this time?”

The words were sharp, but they hadn’t stung. You didn’t take it personally.

“You’re smart enough to know,” you frowned, clenching your jaw, “it’s not fair to Jayce and me.”

“What isn’t fair? That I’m feeling unwell?” Viktor has been angrier than you realized, but you didn’t flinch at his outburst. He grabbed his crutch, using it to pull himself out of his chair as the metal of his leg brace creaked, and you tried to help, but he swatted your hand away, “That I have to stay home everyday working on hextech, while Jayce gets to go to the lab? While you two get to spend all your time together while I stay here?”

“Oh,” your eyes widened, pulling your hands back and staring at him. You didn’t know what to say, and you noticed the embarrassed look in his eyes – shame.

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.

“Viktor, is that what this is about?” Your heart ached as you slid off of the desk, stepping up to him and resting your hands along the sharp lines of his jaw.

He tried turning his head away, but you had the advantage now and kept him still, looking up at him with those big doe-eyes that worked too well on him and made his stomach twist in the best way possible. He did his best to avoid your gaze, feeling nothing short of pathetic.

“Can we leave it be?” He eventually croaked, “pretend I didn’t say anything, please?”

“I ran a shower for you, Viktor,” Jayce stepped into the room, towel in his hand as he looked between you two. There was a tension in the room that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, “uh, bad time?”

“Thanks,” Viktor mumbled, pulling away from you and limping against his crutch as he took the towel and marched his way out of the office, slowly.

“Do you need a han–”

“No.”

Silence filled the office as Viktor left, leaving the two of you stunned in silence. Jayce turned toward you, a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to put the pieces together.

“We haven’t been good partners,” you groaned, turning to press your face against him, mind reeling for ways to remedy Viktor’s heartache. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt, having far too much privilege in this situation.

“Is he mad I’ve been spending too much time away?” He asked, ripping you from your thoughts, “I could bring some of the lab stuff home, or… or I could take some time off! Right?”

“No,” you let out a breathy laugh at his eagerness, one of the many traits of Jayce Talis that made you fall so madly in love with him, “well, maybe.”

“I can go right now,” he moved to turn.

“Jayce,” you laughed, holding him back from turning your home into the newest hextech laboratory and spending countless hours trudging through the snow with heavy equipment, “Baby steps. He’s been quite tired, lately. Maybe we should get him to bed and see if we can help him someway,” you wore a sly smile on your lips, attempting to push Jayce’s thoughts in the same direction as yours. 

He huffed out a laugh, “Sounds like you’re the worked up one trying to get what you want.”

You playfully hit his arm, “Oh, shut up. Like you aren’t, it’s been weeks. If we’re feeling it, then he is too,” you put your hands on his back, pushing him toward the door, “let me take care of it.”

You found yourself in the bathroom with Viktor, him sitting on a chair you’d slid in so you could help him. Help that he was appreciative of after taking time to de-stress.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes closed as you ran the towel through his hair, “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Anger wasn’t a feeling that Viktor was so familiar with, it often fleeted right by him. He had always been so ambitious, ready to take on the world with a cup half-full mentality. These past few years had taken its toll on him, leaving him uncertain. 

Worried. 

“It’s okay, love,” you cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead as he tilted his head back on the chair, looking up at you, “you should come rest with us. It’s cold out, we deserve a day in bed.”

You could see a spark flicker in his eyes, the first in days. That’s all you wanted, was to see that spark more often, to show Viktor that he wasn’t being left behind – that you and Jayce couldn’t even imagine a life without loving him like you do. That, itself, would be an injustice.

Once refreshed, you helped him to the bedroom with nothing more than a gentle hand on his back. Mindful about your actions, knowing now that as much as he hid it well, he had pride. A need to just feel normal, once in a while. Like he wasn’t just the sick man people saw him as – the sick man he knew he was.

Jayce was sitting up in bed, legs sprawled over the mess of blankets and a book in his hand. Eyes flickered up from the bed, a small smile on his lips as he sat up.

“There he is. The love of my life,” he beamed, snapping the book shut.

“Eh, that’s too much, Jayce,” Viktor sighed, cringing at the display of affection, and you snorted out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, sitting up as he watched Viktor move into the bed and lay against the pillows, admiring him, “I can’t appreciate you?”

“You heard him, it’s too much,” you teased, closing the blinds so you could all hide away from the snowy surroundings. Take the time to focus on only each other.

Viktor looked up at Jayce, long lashes fluttering as a pink shade tinted his cheeks. One of his calloused hands gently rubbed along his slender waist where his ribs were visible, tilting down and wasting no time in closing the distance between their lips.

You crawled onto the other side of the bed, sliding against Viktor with ease, lips on his shoulders and hands exploring his body. You hoped you hadn’t been too eager.

“You don’t have to do this,” Viktor’s voice muffled against Jayce’s lips, frail hands pressing to his hardened chest, “I get it.”

“I want to,” Jayce answered earnestly, pulling back from their kiss, “I love you. You know that, right?”

“... I do.”

There was nothing else in the world that you and Jayce wanted more than to make sure that Viktor was loved and cared for, that his heart could be full when his mind and body felt weak. To know that you both unequivocally and unconditionally loved him, more than one should bear.

Viktor’s body was sensitive as you and Jayce ravaged him – tired and weak, but craving everything you two offered him. Eating up the desire like a starved man.

You straddled his hips, rocking atop of him lazily while Jayce pressed heady kisses along his neck, licking at the marks he left behind. Everyone was tired, paces slowing down and bodies spent, but you didn’t have the need to stop. You all made up for lost time, and you and Jayce showed Viktor just how much love you had for him.

You hadn’t been worried about someone stumbling in on you, or the cameras in each room watching your every move. Namgyu’s touch made your brain a mess, leaving you uncaring about everything and anything. You were willing to do whatever it took to feel him against you again, for those fingers to dip inside and make soft sounds escape your lips.

Fingernails scraped hard at the wooden door as he pushed your hair aside and bit at your neck. He tongued your skin, lapping at the hickeys he carelessly left. Marking you as his, something he’d wanted to do since his eyes first landed on you many days ago.

He breathed heavily against your skin, his warm breath making you shudder as you felt your underwear grow wetter with each passing second. You wanted to touch him forever—that would be the best way to go.

“You taste so good,” he whimpered. He was a mess, too. He hadn’t been this high in ages, and he felt damned good. No more people looking down on him. No one was holding him back anymore.

There was just you—perfect you. He liked you. Maybe too much, and he was okay with that.

He wanted you to be his. He would do anything for you, he’d beg if he had to. On his hands and knees, grasping at your sweats and making promises so that he could taste you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped when he sucked a sharp point on your neck, and the hand that was under your shirt slipped out. He covered your mouth with it, preferring to spend the next ten minutes of the game ravaging your body instead of alerting anyone walking by. He was so desperate for you, he’d do anything to taste you, to be inside you.

He was drunk on you.

“Shh,” he hushed you through a pathetic sound that bubbled up his throat, licking at your earlobe and suckling. You inhaled a sharp breath through your nose as his other hand dove into your underwear, fingers finally brushing over your heat that had been untouched for far too long—a couple of days. It was a teasing touch, barely grazing where you needed it most.

You scratched deeper at the door until your nails hurt, bleeding. Your toes curled. Fuck.

Namgyu’s finger finally circled over your clit, already swollen and aching to be touched. You whined against the bloody hand over your mouth, hips pressing back until your ass could feel his erection pressing against you. You were so incredibly done for, and he’d been touching and kissing you for all of two minutes.

“Fuck me,” you muffled against his hand, a metallic taste on your lips. You ground back against him again, earning a sweet growl from his chest.

You were far too eager, your eyes fluttering with each circle of his finger. The hand over your mouth tightened, the finger over your clit quickening until he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed more.

“You want me to fuck you? Right here?” He breathed, rutting against you desperately. Fucking you through the barrier of clothes. Those sweet, sweet fingers pushed through your folds—teasing your cunt that was so wet he was sure he’d have no trouble fitting inside you. “I want to fuck you so bad, baby. You have no idea. You make me fucking insane So hot—so pretty.”

Namgyu’s whimpers made you shudder, such a pathetic whine rolling from his tongue as he rambled. His fingers began to fuck you as they slipped into your tight entrance that had only last been touched by him. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his ministrations, thighs tensing around his hand, impossibly hard that he winced at the pressure, but continued. Those two long fingers curled inside, pressing against the fleshy bump that made you gasp into his hand louder.

“Yeah?” He breathed into your ear, “Feel good?”

You mumbled, slurring about how badly you wanted him to fuck you. That you needed his cock deep inside of you—and he wasn’t one to keep you from your needs. As much as he wanted to see you on your knees and asking nicely, maybe with that shiny knife held to your throat—he wasn’t going to last that long. 

Or better yet, him on his knees. Fuck. He would beg for you any day.

“You gotta’ keep your mouth shut,” he warned quietly, a soft grunt. The hand over your mouth dropped, now focused on pulling your sweats and underwear down the globe of your ass. You whimpered in response, biting down on your bottom lip as you felt his twitching cock press into you.

Namgyu took his time for a moment, leaning back to see your backside. His hands ran over your ass, feeling you up as if memorizing your body by touch. His mouth watered at the sight of you, dripping down your thighs from some measly fingering and sweet whispers in your ear.

You were so easy. That’s what he liked about you—among other things.

Everything happened so fast when he realized he could hold back any longer, and you didn’t care. All you could focus on was making sure you didn’t collapse as he took the base of his cock in his hands and rolled his hips forward, stretchin you thin as your cunt ached at the sudden intrusion. 

Another whine from your throat, as quiet as you could make it. He bottomed out on you and stretched you until it stung, huffing curses and random ramblings under his breath as his hands grabbed your hips to steady himself. Leaving bloody marks all over your body and staining the clothes you wore.

You hadn’t been fucked so senseless in your life. The door shook with each movement as he pulled himself until his cock was nearly out, only to push in so deep that he hit the fleshy ring of your cervix. A tender and sore ache, a feeling you wanted more of so goddamn badly.

After a particularly deep thrust, you choked on a sound. Gasping and forcing your hips back to him, and meeting the forward snaps of his hips. You were chasing a high, wanting to hear him, too.

A hand moved up to your throat, catching the sounds that dared to escape. He gripped tight, cutting off your air for a few moments until he loosened enough for you to breathe comfortably. You wanted to tell him to choke harder, that you could handle it, but you were fucked out. All you could say was his name.

“Namgyu,” you mewled through a strangled moan, face turning to the left as you pressed flush to the door. Reacting to your words, his hand tightened around your throat.

You peered at him through half-lidded and glossy eyes, trying to get a glimpse of him as he fucked you with reckless abandon with an unceremonious rhythm. His cock stretching your abused pussy so much that it would surely buckle your knees if he kept up the pace.

“Say it again,” he growled, leaning forward to bury his face into your neck, pulling you back enough from your throat so your back arched. He huffed against your skin and licked at the marks bruising on your neck, your pulsing muscles around his cock making it tough to keep from releasing inside you so quickly. “C’mon. Say my name again, pretty girl. I like the way it sounds on your lips, it’s so sweet… please, you goddamned slut—“

The insult, as derogatory as it was, sent a fluttering of butterflies deep into your stomach. You were sick in the head. He knew you loved it. He knew exactly what kind of girl you were. What would make you snap. Everything you wanted to hear.

“Namgyu,” you whimpered, a bit louder than you meant, but that stirred something in him. You knew because he had begun fucking you so hard the door was squeaking on its hinges and you both hoped nobody would walk by. His fingers gripped your hips tightly, and you felt the tender skin already beginning to bruise.

Only a few more times of saying his name and several reckless thrusts deep into your pussy, and you both hit your peak. It was intense as he filled you, his cock twitching as his cum leaked down your thighs and you gasped out a moan that reverberated from within your chest. Your knees eventually buckled, and he was forced to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling to the ground.

“My god,” he breathed into your hair, heaving against the skin behind your ear. “So perfect. My perfect girl. Perfect pretty girl. Don’t leave me… just stay… pretty girl…”

You could listen to those praises all night in the dorms when you both made it out—but unfortunately, Namgyu was hit with a realization that had left him completely and utterly devastated, completely insane. You couldn’t keep him calm that night, not when he was refusing to eat, focused only on the fact that he’d lost Thanos’ necklace. The drugs he’d become so reliant on.

Even more surprising? He voted no when the voting came. He needed to go home. He needed to get out of this hellhole and get a quick fix.

The entire night, you stayed by his side. As much as he tried to push you away, you were steadfast in your actions. You had been in his shoes plenty of times before—no drugs, forced into a withdrawal. It was hell. Your body ran hot, your head ached like it would explode, and all you wanted was to find the next pill to make it all go away.

You held him in your arms all night. Feeling the way he would twitch in his sleep. You’d fall asleep for a bit, only to be woken up by him fidgeting and restless, awake and agitated or kissing at your neck and grabbing at you to distract himself. When he needed it, you would feed him water, uncaring how thirsty you were yourself.

He was grateful for this—he’d remember this. You were special. 

For the first time, he wondered what life would be like with someone like you.

“Hey,” you whispered to him, a hand brushing away the hair that stuck to his sweaty skin. “You’re shaking. Have some more water.” You knew the games would be starting soon. Every morning, you woke up precisely five minutes before the lights came on. An anxious reaction.

Namgyu stirred, half-asleep. He shifted onto his back, closer to you and smacked his dry lips. You eased him up and gave him the rest of your water.

“I need to go home,” he whispered, voice hushed like a murmur. “Fuck this place. Fuck the guards for not letting me go back and get the—“

“One more game,” you told him, watching as he slowly fluttered his eyes open to look at you. They weren’t blown out anymore. Instead, they looked baggy and tired, with dark circles creating a heavy shadow under his eyes. “One more game and we’ll probably have enough people who are good to go home, yeah?” 

Namgyu huffed. He forced out a laugh; your optimism both agitated him and made his heart leap.

“One more game,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again and getting in a few more minutes of sleep before the music and bright lights woke everyone up, including the newborn that began to cry loudly.

Namgyu was quiet most of the morning. You stayed near him, but he was focused on trying to get the last bit of water out from the bottle before it was time to move on to the next game. You didn’t like it—it was wrong, but you had almost hoped he had the drugs again. Just enough to get him through this next game and stay focused until you were out.

To be in withdrawal was one thing; to be in it while in a game of life or death? Surely, at your lowest point, you would believe that death would be easier.

You just hoped he didn’t act too recklessly.

As you were guided to the games room, you lingered closely behind him. Peering over his shoulder as you made it up the stairs, through a winding corridor and finally to the games room. The big doors opened, the sound of a whining baby somewhere behind you making your stomach twist.

What a fucked up situation. You just hoped to god that everyone voted no after this.

After—

Jump rope?

There it was, the giant doll right before the players. Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling so small and so high up. You could see a bridge and a rope. Another doll, a boy that eerily matched the girl.

Both dolls held a rope, and without thinking, you slipped next to Namgyu and grabbed at him. Your hands tugging the sleeves of his sweater nervously instead of your own. He glanced at you, eyes widening for a moment—your fear was palpable. Shifting, he grabbed your hand, fingers intertwining. 

A sentiment you were certain would keep you going through the rest of these games. For a moment, you wondered what being away from these games with him would be like, but you were cut short by the announcer, who explained the jump rope game.

You didn’t have very long to make it to the other side, and no one moved. No one wanted to be the first to go, to be the guinea pig of this game.

Not until Player 456 went—a baby tied to his chest.

Your stomach twisted as you watched, horror sinking your gut. You couldn’t do this. The rope was spinning too fast, and there was a goddamned break in the bridge. You began to panic, and Namgyu could sense it, but he didn’t try to ease it.

He panicked himself, but for an entirely different reason. He was hot, nauseated and praying to god that this would be the last one. He sucked in breath, startled only when the first person was knocked off of the bridge after people grew confident at Player 456’s success.

Both of you watched, and it was like everything slowed for a brief moment—the metal rope hit their ankles, and they went flying. The thud and crunch of their body echoed through the tall chamber.

“Fuck this shit,” you mumbled under your breath, taking a few steps back and running your hands over your face. You crouched to the ground, shaking your head. It all came crashing down. “No, no, no. I’m not doing this. I can’t—“

Namgyu was in front of you in an instant, eyes wide and bewildered, impatient. 

“Shut up,” he snapped, hands on your shoulder as he shook you. He waited until you looked into his eyes, no longer babbling nonsense. “You go first, and I’ll be right behind you. We’ll make it through and we’ll get the fuck out of here. It’s just you and me. We have each other, okay? Okay?”

You didn’t respond, eyes wide in fear.

He shook you harder, and you whimpered. 

“Okay—“ you squeaked, another sound of a body thudding against the ground making you flinch.

“Teammates,” Namgyu murmured, a word that eased your mind.

People slowly began to filter, but only a handful. There were three across and one on the bridge, making their way over. You followed Namgyu, trusting him. Even if he wasn’t in his right mind, and was making rash decisions. You wanted to wait and study the game more, but he was right.

There was no sense in waiting around. Not when the rope had begun to move faster.

“Go,” he whispered, his body close behind you. His voice was calmer than you’d ever heard, and you were certain he was focused on getting home, and you were thankful for that. You watched ahead as the man on the bridge stood just before the gap, jumping and jumping until he finally hopped across and jumped once more—almost falling but steadying himself. It was nauseating, and you were sure you’d lose your balance.

“Don’t look down. You got this. You and me. We make it to the end and we’re home.”

Home with Namgyu. Sure, you could get used to that idea.

Even he was just chasing you with a knife less than twenty-four hours ago.

Those were the last words from him that you heard before you stepped onto the bridge—no turning back. Not without difficulty, at least.

It took a few moments, but you managed to get onto the bridge. Jumping every five seconds. It was terrifying. Your heart was hammering, sweat beading on your forehead. Players behind you were chattering and groaning when you nearly missed the first jump.

Your hands were clammy as you toppled briefly, regaining your footing and having to jump almost instantly as the rope went a full circle around. Almost clearly, you heard Namgyu inhaling a sharp breath and sighing in relief when you were steady. What you couldn’t see was the way his hands were buried in his hair, and the scratching down his face as you shuffled forward slowly.

Namgyu was praying to whatever god would listen. He needed you to make it across. 

You were terrified. Tears dared to well in your eyes after each jump—it was only Namgyu’s voice behind you that urged you forward.

“Jump!” He’d say in a shaky tone. “Forward!” Coaching you through each step.

You could tell he was right behind you as you inched your way forward. Jumping, moving. A quick rhythm and no time for fuck ups.

He needed you both on the other side. Now.

By the time you reached the gap, you were already over it before you could even realize how much you relied on your body’s instinct. You almost wanted to turn around and celebrate, but you heard Namgyu jump behind you, and you kept moving ahead.

“Almost there, “ you said, hoping he could hear, looking forward and seeing only a small handful of players watching you. You grinned, adrenaline fueling you. Namgyu felt the same, with the finish line only inches ahead now. It was home free!

You were both so close! Why were either of you so damn worried?

“Two more jumps,” you heard Namgyu’s voice again, and you jumped and then moved forward.

As you reached the end, you looked over your shoulder at him. You were smiling, bright and wide, and he smiled back, a small tug at the corners of his lips. You’d made it, you’d finally—

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt your feet stumble back, heavy hands against your chest. Snapping forward, you looked ahead at the finishing platform. Your heart sank when you realized what was happening, and everything seemed to slow down.

You could hear Namgyu’s voice yelling.

“Don’t touch her!” He roared so loudly that the other players flinched. 

You felt your body swaying back, and you lost your footing as you looked into the eyes of the man who decided your life was better sacrificed for more money in his pocket. 

You were falling. Hands reaching out wildly as your eyes then locked with Namgyu, who was yelling out to you. It lasted all of a few seconds before everything went black. 

Dying wasn’t like they said it would be. You didn’t see anything flashing before your eyes.

All you saw was Namgyu, looking down at you with an expression of horror. It was over quickly, at the very least.

Behind him, Namgyu could hear a woman telling the others to move back—that this player planned to begin knocking off anyone who was at the end. He twitched, his eyes wide and breath coming in quick huffs as he watched the man staring him down with a smug smile.

“What are you going to do—“

The man couldn’t finish his sentence before Namgyu made one final jump forward and slammed the player onto the platform. All he saw was red as he landed punch after punch against the man’s face. Pummeling him until his face was swollen, black and blue.

“You bastard!” he roared between punches. His knuckles had begun to break open and bleed from the pain radiating into his hands, but he was feeding off of it. Enjoying the way the man’s face became unrecognizable with each hit. It was a rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

It was Player 456 who called out to him, asking him to stop. Why should he? Everyone here was a killer. Whether they liked it or not, they were all accomplices to the deaths of everyone who died in the games.

Namgyu had nothing to live for here; he didn’t care about the morality of his actions. He was here for money and greed, to hope that maybe he’d get out of the games with enough cash to make his problems go away. He realized now that none of that would matter without you. There was no more you, and that was terrifying. You had been by his side all night. Tending to him, as much as he wished you’d just leave him alone to wither away by himself, but you stayed.

You clung to him in fear. You trusted him. Namgyu would never forget the look in your eyes in the last game when the timer came up and you were alive, in his arms as you played with the keys around his neck, unbothered to try to find your way out because he was there for you. To keep you safe and make sure you both see another day.

“Player 124, stand down.” A guard spoke, and Namgyu hissed.

What kind of sick joke was this? He could push players off the platform, but a fist to the face was too much? These games were bullshit. They were always bullshit.

“Don’t touch me,” Namgyu hissed as he stumbled to his feet, taking a few steps away from the guard who pointed his gun in his direction. He backed up until he felt a metal object against his shoulder blade, the second guard. “This is bullshit! He killed her, he pushed her, and I can’t even kill the guys with my own two hands—”

“Player 079 eliminated.” 

Your number.

Namgyu balled his bloodied hands into fists and wanted to do nothing more than rip his hair out and scream. He wanted to go home and smoke the rest of his stash so he’d black out for days and forget everything that happened here. But he couldn’t.

He could never forget you.

His eyes were wide as he stared at the guards, and no one moved a single muscle as the rope began to spin and spin. He bared his teeth like a wild animal, just staring.

“Junkie… bastard…” The man from the floor gurgled, his words muffled as blood bubbled in his throat and splattered over his mangled face. A sound that would’ve chilled you to the bone, but instead angered Namgyu to the point of no return.

It all happened at once.

Namgyu stomped the man’s face, and the guards reacted by shooting several rounds into him. The gunfire echoed loudly, and the baby lying in the flowers began to wail. He collapsed onto the floor, eyes up at the ceiling as he grabbed at his chest where the bullets penetrated, and gasped wetly as the air left his lungs. He was satisfied at the sounds of your murderer dying—even as pain radiated through his body and left him on fire. 

This was more exciting than withdrawal, at least.

With his final bits of energy, Namgyu choked on the blood in his throat and flipped to his stomach. He crawled to the edge of the bridge, the guards ready to shoot once more, but he let himself fall.

His body landed with a loud thud, and it lay limp next to yours—his arm over your chest and leg against yours. Dead, lifeless eyes focused on you. 

Everyone’s attention returned to the games as the timer ticked by, so easily forgetting about you and Namgyu. 

Your bodies both lay there, rigid and still. Blood pooled around you both until there was nothing else left to drain from your body.

You and Robert were a walking HR Violation. 

If someone were to find out about your 'thing', you’d argue that you weren’t a hero on his dispatch team, at least not anymore. You just happened to work in the same office, take lunch breaks at the same time, attend required meetings together, dogsit Beef every so often, and fuck in the broom closet when you had five minutes to spare. But at least you weren’t a supervisor and supervisee. Anymore. 

Now that would be well below your morals. That had to count for something. 

Even if both of you agreed never to let anyone at the office find out about your weekend rendezvous… or the goddamn broom closet.

You were a responsible young woman now, so it was a surprise that you’d even consider being in whatever the mess of a relationship you had with Robert. An ex-villain—the first of the Phoenix Program to ever make it out of the Z-team and into a ‘normal’ team.

You clocked in to work ten minutes early every day, worked late when Blazer needed a hand, and worked your goddamn ass off harder than someone like Phenomoman could even imagine. You might not have been a hero who had her face on billboards and cereal boxes—the kind of hero that children wished to meet one day, or wanted to be when they were older. But you were trying your hardest to be a goddamn hero, and you were proud of it. 

Gone were the days of villainy—your mind once clouded by hate and the desire to ruin everything you touched. This was your penance. It had been over six months since you changed your path, and you still carried enough guilt to swallow you whole. It was the sole reason you pushed yourself as far as you did because the mere idea of falling back into your old, destructive patterns knotted a dark pit in your stomach.

Somedays, it felt as though the weight of the world rested on your shoulders when you put on your hero suit; it bore down on you until your entire body and mind ached with burnout.

No one saw the cracks shooting through your hard-working exterior. No one except Robert Robertson III. Christ—what a fucking mouthful.

Robert was the only one who saw the struggle you hid so well. He knew you had been pushed out of the Phoenix Program a few months too soon, but Blazer had high hopes for you. You reminded her of herself when she was younger, and so she pushed you harder than anyone else in the Z-Team.

The ex-superhero met you on his first day of dispatching, two weeks before you were set to graduate from the program. You were the only one who’d found success, and as such, Blazer didn’t want the rest of the team holding you back and decided that Robert would be best to lead them apart from you. You’d never forget that first meeting in Blazer’s office.

You sat in one of the chairs, palms sweaty and certain that she was going to cut you from the team. That was when Robert came in—big brown eyes, freckles akin to constellations and an apathetic, yet curious, look in his eyes as they lingered on you, which made your heart roar. You worked with him closely the following two weeks, as both Chase and Blazer figured you would be the best one to give him the lay of the land until you departed from his team two weeks later, when you were promoted to Chase’s team.

There were plenty of moments during those two weeks when you knew that Robert was going to be trouble. The easy banter, lingering stares as you both quietly ate lunch in the break room, as Prism and Malevola shared gossip as loudly as they could.

It took all of four weeks for the two of you to become familiar with each other in tight spaces.

The familiar feeling of calloused fingers in your hair remedied the ache in your heart that you hadn’t realized was there. Lips on your neck, easing the heaviness in your lungs. Five minutes nearly every day, your bodies tangled in the broom closet. Muffled whimpers behind Robert’s hand, toes curled inside your boots and being forced to breathe goddamn-near manually for ten minutes into your next shift while your mind ran rampant with everything Robert—needing more.

You got more, and you figured that karma ought to be on your side now.

•

“You’re exhausted,” Robert said, his back turned to you as he stood in his kitchen, opposite the island you sat at. Your mouth opened to speak, but he wasn’t finished, “And don’t try to come up with some menial, shitty excuse as to why you’ve been working late all week. If you told Blazer you were tired, she’d understand. You know that, right?”

A hot cup of coffee was placed before you, and brown eyes settled on your half-asleep face. It was eight at night on a Friday, and you had just finished filling in late for another team. You needed sleep more than you needed coffee, but you begged Robert for a cup.

It had become a bad habit these days, winding up at his apartment instead of your own. At least with your presence around every weekend, it was enough to get him to buy a futon sofa, which might have been the most uncomfortable thing you ever slept on. At least you mostly fucked on it.

“She needs my help. Torrance needs my help. It’s worth being tired sometimes.” You argued back petulantly, a pout hidden behind your coffee cup. 

Robert’s stare made you sulk, two scarred hands on the countertop. Fingers tapping over the surface as a chill ran up your spine. “You sound like a goddamn cliche. A really frustrating one, might I add,” he returned, his voice low and gravelly from a week’s worth of dispatching the Z-Team. Fridays were always hard on him.

You frowned, licking residual coffee from your lips. “But it’s the truth. If not me, then who else?”

“Literally anyone else at SDN,” his voice swelled with frustration, a tone that was mostly reserved for bad dispatching days. “You’re working yourself to the fucking bone, and you act like you’re the only hero there to pick up the pieces that fall between Blazer’s hands. There is, quite literally, over fifty other heroes.”

It was always annoying how right Robert always was, as if he wasn’t 5 years your senior and had a handful of experience as a hero above you. It was already enough having Chase throw you tidbits of wisdom every working hour, so when Robert gave you unwarranted advice—you bristled.

“That’s not fair!” You huffed at him. Your hands tightened around the mug, and your eyes crackled with lightning—a symptom of your power. “You know why I stay late, it’s more than just—”

“Who are you even trying to prove yourself to?!” Robert’s voice matched your volume, and you only then realized you’d been shouting at him. His voice softened, “You’re a hero. Don’t… let whatever guilt or regrets eating away at your mind make the decisions for you. You’ll get yourself killed.”

The coffee was forgotten on the counter, driplets running down the side from where it had spilled when you took a sip. It was growing cold, but the air between you and Robert was running hot, and you hated it when you were both stressed because you hated being honest with anyone, let alone yourself. You preferred to bottle up your emotions and save them for your SDN-issued therapist, who had you learning a multitude of coping mechanisms for your stress that you might not have been working on well enough.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cut through the tension. Bare feet padded over the flooring as he walked around the island and to where you sat, hunched over and tears welling in your eyes. “Hey, look at me.” 

Calloused fingers cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look up into those doe-brown eyes that warmed your heart and reminded you of why you tried so hard. You wanted to be a hero like him—like Mecha Man. You didn’t want the glory and fame; you just wanted to make a difference as he had. The most challenging part was that you had it, but you couldn’t see your own success as easily as others did.

He blinked a few times, taking in the few moments to admire your watery eyes and pouting lips, “I’m just worried about you, and you never talk to me about how you really feel, then we just start bickering… or fucking.”

You snorted, lips pulling into a pathetic, lopsided smile.

“How about we take it easy for the night, yeah? I might not have a TV, but I have a phone, and I’m sure we can find some shitty movie to hate on tonight.” His voice was a rhythmic hum, and you couldn’t do anything but agree to his terms for the rest of the evening.

Legs were tangled on the futon with a fluffy blanket strung across your bodies. A terrible B-list film played on his phone, but instead of being propped up by his hand, it was face down and nearly falling off the edge of the makeshift futon-bed. It had been long forgotten about for ten minutes now, as were your pants and underwear.

“Fuck,” you breathed out against his neck, his stubble tickling your face. Two of his fingers prodded deep inside you, curling just right so your toes curled and you whined.

Robert shifted your bodies until your back was on the futon, his lips finding your neck and leaving a littering of kisses and bites that marked your skin with bruises that would be gone come Monday. You hardly cared; your hero suit mostly covered anything that he left on your skin—a bad habit of his that you didn’t feel like correcting.

The two digits inside of you worked harder, earning delicious sounds that fell from your lips and had Robert’s trousers tightening with each passing second.

The blanket fell from your bodies as you hooked an arm around his neck and rocked your hips in rhythm with his fingers—meeting each forward press of his hand. The heavy, throaty sounds from him vibrated against your jaw.

“Tell me…fuck. Tell me that you’ll be good next week,” Robert demanded breathily, his words hot in your ear as he suckled on your lobe, then moved to run his teeth against the shell of your ear. Your lips quivered in response, and you didn’t answer quickly enough because he removed his fingers from your aching cunt until you listened.

His thumb barely brushed against your clit, leaving you clenching desperately around nothing.

“Robert,“ You whined, kicking a foot at the blanket, but giving in so easily, “I-I promise. I’ll be good. No more staying late… Please.”

“Good,” he cooed into your ear, and you fucking melted as he devoured you. Teeth sank into the skin between your neck and shoulder, two fingers plunged deep into your pussy once again and fucked you at a quick pace that milked whimpers from your lips as you grabbed at his shoulders—fingernails digging at his scarred skin.

You fucked yourself against his fingers again, meeting the pace again, but this time needing release so fucking desperately. You felt his cock against your bare thigh, still hidden beneath his work pants, but you couldn’t give him attention even if you wanted to because you were so fucking close and focused on the pleasure building inside you.

Those expertly working fingers were bringing you close to the edge. His thumb has joined in and rubbed at your swollen clit in tight little circles that made you dizzy.

“You’re so good,” he whispered into your ear, heavy breaths of air tickling at your skin as his other hand, buried into your hair, tugged at the strands. The praises earned mewls of pleasure and satisfaction from you, who was practically purring for him. “You listen… so well. God, you’re beautiful. Fuck—“ He’d lost his thoughts when he started rubbing himself against your thigh.

His strained cock behind his work pants found perfect rhythm and friction against your thigh.

You were shivering under his touch, nails scratching down his back. Toes curled, heat building in the pit of your stomach, sending electrical shocks to the tips of your toes and fingers.

Robert sucked at your skin just below your ear, pitiful whines reverberating deep from his chest as he focused so hard on making sure you were met with the release you deserved. “Come on, baby. Come for me, okay? C’mon…” He mumbled against your skin messily, teeth grazing your skin. Grinding his cock against you, fingers pushing deep inside your hungry cunt—you were close. So fucking close, and Robert could tell by the way you’d gone almost silent. 

Your eyes were fluttering and rolling back, nails no longer digging into his skin, but instead your arms tightened around his neck. Your thighs twitched, and your cunt tightened around his fingers. 

Both of you felt the orgasmic wave crash through you, grasping at each other to keep yourselves steady as your names rolled off of each other’s tongues—not stopping until you were a tangled, heaping mess over the shitty futon. 

Robert was on his back, your head on his shoulder, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead that he brushed away. The sound of the movie playing on his phone was muffled, knocked to the ground somewhere. Neither of you cared to look for it, the sounds of choppy dialogue and music lulling into the distant city noise that came from his open patio door.

Blinking tiredly as you looked up at Robert, a smirk graced your lips, “Did you come in your fucking pants?”

“Fuck off,” he retorted, embarrassed, cheeks burning a wild red that highlighted his freckles. He tried shoving you away from him playfully, but you were quick to straddle his lap—a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

Robert looked up at you, lying beneath you. Your eyes gazed over his features like you were looking at him for the first time. Freckles below his eyes, scattered over his cheeks like a puzzle. Scars over his chest and arms that you wished to memorize under your touch. His right ear had missed part of its outer shell like a cat that survived a harsh winter. You adored every ‘imperfection’.

And those eyes—big and brown. They stared up at you the same, as if memorizing you.

When you were with Robert, your walls shattered down. Everything that weighed you down was still there, but he helped you lift it. He was the only person in the world who forced your vulnerability to show, and you didn’t mind.

A laugh rumbled from your chest, the sound of laughter echoing through his studio apartment.

“What?” He asked you, smirking with widened eyes, watching you in awe. “A guy can’t finish in his pants anymore?”

“Anymore? Jesus… No, it’s not that,” you managed to sputter when the laughter settled. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just… happy.”

His smile widened to a toothy grin, and you felt your heartbeat stutter. “Okay, ‘Just Happy’. Why don’t we take a shower?” He asked, hands grazing over your bare thighs. Fingers brushing softly at the skin that prickled with goosebumps.

“We? I’m not the one who came—”

A hand covered your mouth, and you laughed behind it as Robert pushed you back against the futon once again. He was chuckling lowly, shaking his head at you before he leaned forward and began to press kisses to your neck, then down to your stomach, where your shirt had lifted to reveal your stomach.

Everything about Viktor drove you fucking crazy.

Those narrow eyes that pierced through you, sending cold shivers through your spine when they flickered up and down your figure. Slender, nimble hands that worked tirelessly to please you, fingers flitting between your legs, pushing inside you and curling against the bundle of nerves that had you crying out. His lips that praised you with words and left heady kisses along your skin and cunt, your thighs clenching on either side of his head as you rode the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

But–you drove him crazier.

A cocky smirk would creep to your lips when you sat idly next to Viktor, both silent as his free hand that wasn’t hastily writing notes over parchment danced along your thigh. Slow, meticulous movements that dipped between your legs, fingers running along the edge of your panties. He was good at silent asks, not much for words or begging, and you were always quick to indulge a man so deserving.

Bold enough to force him back on the bed, riding him until the early morning hours as the warm sun sprawled along your naked bodies and your hips ached and thighs cramped. Until he was a whimpering mess underneath you, strangled groans caught in his throat as he filled you.

You were much better with patience. You preferred waiting for his actions that indicated his desires, absent-minded touches that wouldn’t cease until you were on your knees blowing him. 

Viktor had been preoccupied all week, focusing his energy on the research with Jayce and leaving you to your own devices. The days blended into the next, and tonight, you were a pitiful mess. You hadn't felt this way in a long time. As you sank into the couch, book clutched tightly in your hands, you squeezed your thighs together, and you ached longingly—desperate.

You fixated on the words, but they danced along each page, twisting into an indecipherable mess and leaving your mind as quickly as they came. Pages and pages were left unread as frustration bubbled up in the back of your throat and a loud groan came through. 

Fuck this.

In a swift motion, the book was discarded to the floor and your hand slid between your legs, eyes falling shut as they slipped into the fabric of your underwear with familiarity. Tentative touches, gentle fingers circling your clit that was throbbing. Your other hand slipped into your shirt, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipple, wishing so badly that it was Viktor’s hands making you feel so good.

It was easy to fall into the rhythmic motions, an idyllic smile lifting the corners of your lips as your desires were met. Not in the way you would have preferred, but taken care of nonetheless.

Two fingers slipped inside easily, your cunt eagerly enveloping the digits. Not quite long enough to make the lasting impact Viktor could.

The click of a lock snapped your body upright.

Widened eyes shot to the door that creaked open, and your heart soared. A rare occurrence that Viktor would make it home before you had fallen asleep. Adjusting yourself, you pulled your hands from your body and stood up, the slick between your legs coating your panties and seeping through to the satin fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Hi, baby,” you chirped, voice laced with lust as hands haphazardly fixed your hair that knotted from your position on the couch. You were uncertain why physical presentation mattered when your lover’s face was covered in signs of exhaustion. Dark under eyes, tousled hair, and buttoned shirt untucked.

He looked far too good to remain casual. Fuck, you were feral.

Viktor locked the door behind him, a smile gracing his lips as soft eyes settled upon you and his weight shifted back to his cane, “Still up? I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock, it was well past midnight.

“No,” you shook your head, wondering if your hot cheeks and heavy breaths hinted at your previous state. Surely, he noticed. “Just… couldn’t sleep,” you lied.

Oh, he noticed.

Interest flickered in his eyes, and a curiosity settled in his chest, but gods, he was tired. He couldn’t even think straight, surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk in the lab like he had two nights before.

Viktor stepped forward, cane clicking along the wood, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, love,” his gentle words heavy on your heart, “I’m exhausted.”

Two impatient hands flew to his vest, fingers toying with the buttons eagerly.

“Viktor,” you whimpered, pulling your head back so you could look into his eyes, pleading.

It was an unusual act to see you standing before him with your knees quaking as you begged. His cock stirred in his slacks, hardening at the mere sight of you acting so pitifully, ready to do whatever you needed to earn his attention. 

“I need you,” you mewled, fingers beginning to undo the buttons of his vest. Shaky fingers expertly removed each one with practiced ease.

“I–shit,” he hissed, cheeks burning a deep red as you began to sink onto your knees once his vest popped open.

“–Please, I’ll be quick.”

Viktor didn’t make any moves to stop you, his free hand lifting to cover the bottom half of his face as you dug past his belt. A moan muffled behind his fingers when his cock sprung free from the layers of clothing that had felt far too restrictive, and he fell back against the closed door. Your eager hands stroked him, milking out the pre-cum that you lapped up greedily on your flattened tongue.

He whimpered, cane discarded to the floor as he worked hard to keep his knees from buckling beneath him. Your only response was to keep going, lips wrapping around his cock as you took him in as far as you could. A repetitive movement as you bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, and fuck, you loved his moans.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering as they rolled back, a hand reaching down to grab at your hair to coax you along him. Pushing himself down your throat, knowing very well you could take it.

You choked on him, the gags and whines from your throat sending heat right into his gut. The coil in his abdomen tightened as you swallowed around him, trying to milk out his cum that you were desperate to taste on your tongue. 

You were deserving of it, weren’t you?

Two hands pressed to his bare thighs, scratching at his pale skin as tears stung your eyes when he hit the back of your throat. You were greeted by a pleasantly hard tug in your hair, yanking your mouth from his cock just as he felt himself hit his release.

Groaning deep in his chest as he grabbed the base of his cock with his other hand, stroking as the splattering of hot cum decorated your face. He had been pent-up for so long that it didn’t seem to end, strings of it clinging to your tongue that you had cheekily stuck out, over your closed eyes and down your chin and jaw.

A pretty little painting.

Viktor was rendered breathless, his hand slowing as his cock twitched, and the remaining cum he pushed out dripped down to the floor between your knees.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hardly able to make the words come to fruition through his heavy breaths.

Your eyes opened, smiling blissfully up at your lover.

“Please,” you whined, your body hot as you lay on the couch in your apartment, legs spread wide so invitingly. His face was buried between, tongue sliding along your cunt and tasting you slowly.

This had been a common occurrence lately, neither of you were able to take your hands off of each other the second you were alone in the same room. Call it the honeymoon phase.

Your head lifted from the couch, hardly able to keep your eyes open as you watched your lover eat you out with experienced movements. His were closed, arms wrapped around your thighs as he listened to your sweet sounds that urged him to keep going.

He’d made you cum twice already, working you slowly to each release and watching you unravel with cries of pleasure and body writhing along the couch. Your fingernails had ripped into the fabric beneath you, adding to the tears that had accumulated over the past few months.

“Now,” he breathed against your cunt, the air from his lips warm as he moved to press chaste kisses to your inner thighs, “what did I say about being patient?”

A shaky breath escaped your lips, head falling back again in defeat. 

When you first met Viktor, you hadn’t pegged him for the… well… dominant type. He was far too kind, always wearing that small smile on his lips as he ventured through the academy at Heimerdinger’s side. He shook your hand gently, your eyes taking his entire appearance in. Big, sparkling eyes, thinned cheeks, and two moles on his face that seemed to sweeten his features.

It wasn’t until the night you finally fucked after weeks of tension that built between you and him. You half-imagined to spend most of your night riding him, his hand sliding up your body as you took control and put on a show for him that he’d never seen.

Yet, you were greeted with deep rumbles in his throat as he fucked you from behind, standing at the edge of the bed with you on your hands and knees before him. A harsh hand in your hair, tugging it back when you misbehaved, nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

You were so fucking addicted to him, and the feeling was mutual.

“I am being patient,” you whined, back arching as two fingers slipped easily into your pussy, stretching your tight hole. A gasp settled into the back of your throat, hands settling on your tits so you could distract yourself from the way your cunt clenched around his fingers pathetically tight, needing release.

“Good girl,” Viktor purred, licking at a hickey he’d left on your inner thigh, lips trailing back to your heat so he could lick tantalizing slow circles around your swollen clit.

Your face twisted into one of pleasure as the coil in the pit of your stomach began to twist uncomfortably, signifying your third release of the evening. Here you were, a goddamn mess when Viktor had hardly touched himself yet, aside from a few needy strokes along his cock that he gave himself.

His name fell from your tongue again, eyes snapping shut tight as the fingers inside you pumped in and out, fingers curling just right. Those golden eyes watched you with desire, the way your fingers pinched at your nipples and back arched as you reached your climax.

It was intense, like always, leaving you babbling out his name as your body went limp. You were covered in sweat, hips stuttering as he coaxed out your orgasm with a few slow pumps of his fingers.

“Viktor,” you mewled after the feeling finally washed away, pouting as you pulled away from his hands until his fingers slipped out from your cunt, “please, let me make you feel good,” you slurred, properly fucked out. You attempted to sit up, but his free hand pressed against your stomach and forced you down while he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“I let you cum because you were being such a patient girl,” he murmured from his position on the floor. Ignoring the pain in his legs to please you, “Stay down.”

Slowly, he climbed onto the couch above you, trapping you. You buried your face into his neck, whining as he settled between your legs.

“Viktor,” you breathed out his name again, the feeling of his fingers back within your folds causing you to cry out a loud whimper. You twitched, hips trying to run from the fingers that had made you see stars and had your body oversensitive, “too much.”

He smirked, ignoring your pleas as a hand wrapped around your throat.

“Oh, no, love,” Viktor whispered into your ear, teeth dragging against the shell of your ear as grabbed the base of his cock, the tip rubbing along your wet cunt, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Fuck—” your voice cracked, echoing off the walls of Jayce’s lab, empty save for you two. You sat atop his desk, research notes pushed hastily aside, with your back against the tabletop. With spread legs, you gave him everything he’d been aching for all day.

His tongue flicked at your clit greedily, throbbing and shooting electricity through the tightened muscles in your legs. Large, calloused hands kept your thighs apart as he feasted, filthy groans vibrating against your cunt as he lapped you up and tasted the desire dripping from your folds.

You were his favourite meal, easily eating you out for hours if he could spare the time. He loved how you squirmed under his touch, how his warm breath against your heat curled your toes. Tasting you was addictive; your scent drove him fucking mad.

“You like that?” He asked lowly, eyes flicking up to see the way your hands grabbed hastily at your breasts, squeezing and pulling at your nipples with nimble fingers—putting on a show for your lover.

You wanted to answer, but he sucked on your clit, and all you managed to sputter out was a cry that caught on your tongue. He moved lower to lick along your slit, tongue delving into the tight muscles of your cunt, nose brushing against your clit with each push of his muscle inside you. An overwhelming amount of ecstasy shot through you, your back arching until your hips ached.

“Oh, Jayce—,” you pleaded, eyes rolling back into your head as a hand flew to his hair, providing you with the support to grind your face against his inviting mouth. The friction and pressure sent you to the edge, your heels digging into his shoulders. "I-I’m going to cum—”

He pulled his lips back at the mere mention of your climax, grinning at the way you whined and tried to chase his mouth, but his hands kept you pinned in place.

“Let me savour you,” he purred, chaste kisses ghosting along the skin of your inner thighs as you held back the urge to thrash and whine. For your good behaviour, he slipped two fingers inside your neglected cunt that was begging to be fucked and pulled in the digits deftly, “Fuck, you’re easy.”

“Jayce–” you whimpered, gasping at the way his fingers curled against your g-spot. Calculated movements as his other hand worked over your clit. Four fingers rubbed back and forth over the bundle of nerves with a delicate touch. The edging had left you devastatingly overstimulated, thighs twitching and fearing you’d have to pull away, “Gods, you asshole—”

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest and sending shivers up your spine as he fucked you with his fingers.

“So rude,” he teased, licking over his teeth as he worked his fingers in and out. Circling your clit with his thumb for consistent pressure and earning mewls of pleasure rolling from your lips. His eyes were bright, watching eagerly as he could feel your walls clenching tight around his digits, your release so fucking close. “Look at me when you cum.”

Fuck.

You forced yourself up on unsteady elbows, looking at him for the first time since he had been on his knees for you. His stubble was coated in your juices, a fevered look in his eyes that sent heat to your tummy. 

It hit you like a tonne of bricks. A high-pitched moan choking in your throat as you came–hard. Your thighs tried to squeeze together as your hips stuttered violently from the surge of pleasure washing over you, but he stopped you. His eyes focused on your cunt that convulsed around his fingers, your creamy cum coating his fingers as he coaxed it out of you with practiced precision.

“Good girl,” he murmured affectionately, eyes locking onto yours as his fingers pulled from your pussy once your hips steadied. You watched wide-eyed and frozen, his sticky fingers lifting to his lips. The way he sucked on his fingers was fucking decadent, moaning thickly as he licked the cum from his digits until they were clean—not once breaking eye contact with you.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, cheeks burning hot and watching in awe at the vulgar display.

It’s not that they ever compared the two in terms of struggles, but you were able to indulge in a stress-free environment more often than they could. A luxury in their eyes, but all you had done was master the art of stress relief.

In the form of smoking so much weed that you were able to melt into the couch after a day of writing that left your brain foggy, or sometimes even smoking before work to resurge enough creative energy to finish a chapter. You were nearly done with your first fiction novel since graduation, and your roommates, Jayce and Viktor, were lagging behind in their own professional efforts.

You met them both in college; you were in your second year, and they were in their fourth year of mechanical engineering and far from being done with their post-secondary education. It was the luck of the draw, or so Jayce called it when you stumbled into them while hurrying between classes and accidentally knocking their first prosthetic arm prototype to the ground where the pieces scattered.

Never in your life had you ever felt so bad, quickly dropping to your knees and helping them gather the pieces of their hard work, apologizing every second while the two men told you it would be okay. Or, at least, Jayce was telling you it would be okay.

You still think fondly back on Viktor's look. His eyes narrowed as he stared at you, watching you and Jayce scramble to grab everything before the rush of students stampeded over them into non-existence.

It took one apology and a smile to win over Jayce’s heart and a few days of getting to know Viktor—and a few drinks—to win his. Though, you had been oblivious to the deeper feelings that blossomed in their heart.

Why would you think otherwise? They were the two in the relationship.

It was by your fourth year and their sixth that the three of you ended up in the same apartment together, the rent cheap enough split three ways that you’d all be fools to let the opportunity go to waste. You learned quickly that living with two men, let alone engineers and inventors, was going to be a lot. It took a few long months to get used to, but by the time you resigned your first year’s lease and you were freshly graduated, you could be blindfolded and walk over their disassembled creations without as much disturbing their work.

You were thankful that they were able to find a laboratory on campus, but it left your apartment quiet most days and well into the night. The sounds of their bickering had become the soundtrack to your life; instead, the sounds of your fingers against the typewriter echoed through the otherwise empty apartment.

The only other sounds were the distant television you hadn’t bothered to turn off and your senior cat's purring, which lay atop your bed. 

You hummed a quiet melody, a song that you couldn’t name that Jayce had been playing on his phone earlier that morning when he was cooking breakfast. Waking up just in time so you could sneak it and ask him to triple the servings for you and Viktor.

The rattling of the apartment door startled you from your daze, not having realized that you’d been staring at the same sentence over and over for the past five minutes. Your eyes flickered to your phone, a finger tapping the screen to check the time and only then realizing you’d been writing for the past four hours without a break. The moon was high in the sky, and the birds would be chirping in only a few more hours.

Slowly, you got up from your desk, arms stretched above your head and groaning as your stationary position caught up to you, leaving you sore and desperate for a smoke before the night got ahead of you.

“Jesus,” you said as you stepped out of your room, pulling down the sleeves of your sweater over your hands absently as you watched Jayce and Viktor kick off their shoes at the front door. They were so exhausted that they looked like they might fall asleep standing if they didn’t hurry. “This is the fourth night in a row; you guys are digging early graves at how little sleep you’re getting.”

“Maybe that’s why we’re doing it,” Viktor mumbled, struggling with removing the shoe from his prosthetic leg, which Jayce quickly dropped to his knees to help him with.”

“Don’t blame you, all that work and still no grant. Yikes.” You returned with a playful flicker in your eyes, smiling as Viktor rolled his eyes at you. Jayce frowned as he rose back to his feet. “Kidding, guys. It’s called a joke; don’t give me those looks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the taller man mumbled, scratching at his stubbled jaw as he walked into the apartment, passing you and groaning as he b-lined for the living room so he could collapse onto the couch. Viktor was close behind, leaning on his cane as he walked, but you weren’t far behind.

“Bad day?” You asked sheepishly, regret forming a knot in your stomach when you noticed how stressed they were, both sitting on the couch.

“Bad week,” Viktor corrected as he leaned forward, rolling his pant leg up to reveal the well-worn prosthetic that needed an upgrade. They’d been so focused on their work that he hadn’t bothered to worry about his own needs, knowing that once this project ended, he’d be able to call the final prototype his own. A leg that would finally implant into his limb so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of the ill-fitting prosthetics any longer.

You watched as he struggled for a minute, and before Jayce could offer, you were on the floor in front of him, hands already reaching for his leg. Carefully pulling the prosthetic down his thigh until it came clean off, he sighed in relief. This was a common routine that you helped with when Jayce was otherwise busy. Or falling asleep on the couch.

“Thanks,” he murmured, shifting as you put aside the leg carefully.

You returned to the armchair next to the couch, eyes looking between both men who had seen better days. The bags were so heavy beneath their eyes that you feared it would take days for them to finally catch up on their sleep—then an idea sparked.

“You two need a better nightly routine, something to help you decompress from the day instead of passing out in exhaustion the minute you get home,” you said, offering the opportunity for a suggestion.

Jayce glanced at you, raising a curious eyebrow. Viktor was the first to speak, “That doesn’t sound like a healthy habit to you? What a shame. I thought we were the epitome of self-care.”

“Let her speak,” Jayce nudged him with an elbow, eventually leaning against his boyfriend until his face was nearly buried against his neck. “You have anything in mind? I’ll be honest. Sleep sounds like the only good idea.”

“Smoke with me.”

Jayce perked up, peering out from the comfort of Viktor’s warmth as he stared at you with uncertainty, “Like… weed? I don’t know. I haven’t done that since I was a freshman, and let me tell you, it wasn’t a good experience.”

“No one told you to smoke that much, Jayce,” Viktor chided, having been there to witness it firsthand. His amber eyes flickered to you, shining in interest, “I suppose it doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.”

“Because it’s a great idea.” You beamed, sitting up and leaning forward to pet your cat that had made her way into the living room, taking her rounds to each person to receive her nightly pets before nestling away on her cat tree.

Viktor glanced at Jayce, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, love.”

You watched as the two of them spoke softly to each other, a small smile on your lips at the affection they carried for each other. Even on their worst days, they loved each other with all they had. You hoped for a love like theirs someday.

“Fine,” Jayce huffed, pulling away from Viktor and running a quick hand over his face, “At this point, I’ll do anything to get my mind off of work. I think I’m going crazy,” he snorted a weak laugh, eyes flickering over to as you bounced up from your chair and hurried off to your room to roll.

You returned just as Viktor pulled a sweater over his thin frame, hanging over the sleep shorts he now wore. Jayce had just slipped into some sweats after his quick trip to their bedroom to rid themselves of their day clothes. Two sets of eyes watched as you sat back down, a joint held between your fingers that you showed off like a prized possession.

“Ta-da!” You exclaimed, “As simple as a few puffs, all your worries will melt away. It’s old reliable for me, especially after a long day. Makes for the best sleep of your life.”

Viktor was watching you carefully as you spoke, unsure if it was the exhaustion or lingering feelings that left him admiring you. His hand on Jayce’s thigh dug into the cotton fabric of his sweats, going unnoticed because Jayce was staring at you with the same look. Admiration, awe—affection.

Glancing around, your eyes landed on the balcony where you often spent your evenings with a joint and your cellphone, doom scrolling through social media until you were ready to sleep. You crinkled your nose, looking at the boys, “We need to go outside, or else the apartment will smell like—”

“I don’t care,” Viktor said, gaze flickering to Jayce, “do you care?”

Jayce didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes focused on the joint in your hand, and he was more than ready to say fuck it and let things go how they needed to go.

“No complaining tomorrow when we have to air out the apartment,” you smiled. You’d never been able to smoke in the comfort of your own home before, so this was a treat. Even better than you had been able to wrangle your favourite boys into the mix, too.

Once lit, the joint was passed around the circle three times. Viktor handled it well, having been an off-and-on cigarette smoker throughout the years, usually when his stress levels peaked. Now, it was only when he had enough alcohol in his system. Jayce coughed up a lung each time, and it was the most endearing thing you’d ever witnessed. 

Even if it was rather unpleasant for him at first.

You finished the rest, an experienced smoker, so it was almost like nothing to you. The lingering effects of the high made you sink into the armchair, but not before you grabbed everyone some emergency water and snacks, if you could even stay awake.

Fifteen minutes passed, and everyone’s attention was focused on the TV as the shared high began to climb. Viktor was feeling great. His mind was emptied, and the usual pain in his leg after a day of wearing the prosthetic was gone, leaving his body relaxed and eager to sleep long enough to hit double digits.

You glanced at Jayce, seeing the way he sunk into the couch, legs spread wide apart and a lopsided smile on his lips as he watched the trashy reality show play out. You were almost certain you’d never seen them look so damned relaxed, at least since you lived with them.

Jayce caught your stare, head tilting slowly until his gaze met yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat for a brief moment. It had been a long time since you shared a high with anyone, let alone your best friends, so the emotions and feelings coursing through you were new. You couldn’t ignore his half-lidded eyes, staring even as he made room between him and Viktor.

“You look lonely,” Jayce said, a chuckle erupting from his throat, “Come on. When’s the last time you cuddled with us?”

Viktor sighed heavily through his nose, everything around him feeling slow as he watched you slink over hesitantly. He looked at Jayce, smiling, “You say that so confidently; you know she never has before.”

You plopped down on the couch between them, and immediately, your senses were filled in the best way possible. Jayce’s body to your left warmed your body, and you could smell the faint cologne that Viktor used every morning. The scent lingered on his skin.

“That’s not true,” you hummed, looking to the television as you crossed your legs and relaxed back, “Last year when we went to that gala for the university, I got hammered, and somehow I woke up sandwiched between you two in my bed.”

Jayce laughed, a loud laugh that hadn’t warranted that reaction from your words, but everything was funny to him. He could get used to the feeling.

“Ah, right,” Viktor looked at you, smirking, “That was Jayce’s doing, just so you know. He was worried you would get sick, so he wanted to stay with you and begged me to stay.”

“I didn’t beg,” he said through his laughter, “You gave in very easily and enjoyed it. Don’t lie.”

“I did not,” Viktor argued, pale cheeks turning a soft pink. You looked between the two of them as they bickered, a big smile on your face. However, the implications of their words settled into your stomach, and you forced yourself to look back to the TV before you could let your mind wander where it didn’t need to.

There was no need to let yourself build up a desire, knowing very well that it wouldn’t come true.

“Yeah, you did,” Jayce turned to face you both better, easily throwing his right leg over both of your laps, and you were quick to rest a hand over the clothed limb. The touch sent a shiver up his spine and a heat in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t expected, and he hoped you hadn’t noticed because Viktor certainly had.

“Hardly,” Viktor hummed, unable to feel an ounce of annoyance when his heart began pounding in his chest when he saw how Jayce reacted to your touch. How those hazel eyes were glued to your face, and all of the discussions they’ve shared in the past about you came to the surface.

“Stop arguing,” you whined, pointing to the television, “You are missing the best part of the show. They’re about to answer the ultimatums, and let me tell you that whatever you had in mind is never what happens.”

You were received by silence, and you quickly looked between the two men again, blinking a few times in quick succession as you saw the way they both stared at you. You felt a chill crawl up your spine and absently dug your fingers into the fabric covering Jayce’s leg. Sinking back into the couch, you attempted to force yourself to relax and not overthink it, but it was hard when you could see them sharing looks.

“You know, when you get high, you usually just laugh at crappy television and snack on whatever you have until you fall asleep,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.

“Mmh,” Viktor hummed, “Where are our manners?” He teased, and his voice sent goosebumps along your skin. He nestled himself against you as he spoke, his cheek resting on your shoulder as he focused on the television. Meanwhile, Jayce leaned back against the nook between the arm and the back of the sofa, his arm extending behind you as his fingers ‘absently’ played with the ends of your hair.

You were on high alert, which was surprising for how much you smoked, but you could sense something was happening. You were just trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t what you were imagining in your head, but the way Jayce brushed his fingers through your hair and how Viktor’s left hand rested over your bare thigh left you wondering if you were dreaming again.

Viktor’s fingers brushed between your thighs, a daring touch that reminded you that this was no dream, and in this reality, the two men were certainly coming onto you.

A laugh bubbled up from you, one that you weren’t able to hold down. Your hands flew to your face, which had begun to burn a bright red, and you avoided their curious looks.

“You guys are being horribly obvious. I hope you know that.” You mumbled behind your hands, refusing to move them.

Viktor chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, “Or maybe it takes you being high to finally notice.”

You turned your head to look at Viktor between parted fingers, “What do you mean by that?”

Jayce spoke up from the other side of you, smiling rather shyly as you looked over at him, “You’re… pretty clueless, you know that? It’s cute.”

You swore you could hear your heart slamming against your ribs, the feeling overwhelming as you stared up at Jayce and felt your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. Your eyes flickered back to Viktor, noting the confident smile on his lips as he reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“How does it make you feel?” Viktor asked quietly, his reddened eyes scanning your face, “Knowing how we feel about you.”

“Well,” you murmured, licking your lips as you inhaled a shaky breath, “I suppose I don’t exactly know how you feel about me… it’s difficult to answer without knowing.”

Jayce shifted beside you, his leg moving from your laps so he could instead guide you until you were rested back against his chest, his body still turned completely towards you and Viktor. You nestled back into him, sighing at how his body felt so nice and warm like it was enveloping you.

Meanwhile, Viktor shifted and leaned towards you, smiling as he nuzzled himself into you and pulled his leg onto the couch that perfectly fit you three. He buried his face against your clothed chest, peering up just enough to meet your gaze.

“Would you like us to show you?” he asked his eager hand dipping beneath your sweater, thin fingers brushing against the skin of your stomach. You didn’t care if the weed was allowing them to better act on their instincts. All you knew was that the four hands beginning to grasp at your body was enough to make you say—

“God, yes,” you breathed, the sound catching in your throat.

Jayce was quick to act on your consent. From behind his lips attached to the side of your neck, he left gentle kisses that earned you a shiver. Meanwhile, Viktor leaned himself between your spread legs. His eyes were half-lidded and glossy as he stared at you with a knowing smile.

You didn’t have time to question him for staring because he swallowed the words on the tip of your tongue as he pressed your lips together in a bruising kiss. Your lips parted with a gasp, and he took advantage of the opening, his tongue delving into your mouth and tasting the red licorice flavour from the sweets you had indulged. He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips underneath your sweater and grasping over your flesh, rougher touches compared to the fluttering kisses from the man behind you.

The stubble on Jayce’s jaw tickled your skin as he nibbled on the shell of your ear, his heavy breaths cascading your neck with warmth.

“How excited are you?” He whispered into your ear, a squeak muffling into Viktor’s eager mouth as a hand slipped between your bodies and pushed into your shorts. Thick fingers pushed past the fabric of your panties, easily spreading through your wet folds. “Fuck,” Jayce huffed, swallowing thickly as he circled your needy clit with short circles.

“I told you she’d like it,” Viktor mumbled against you, pulling back as a string of saliva connected your lips. He grinned, lifting a hand and brushing his thumb against your swollen bottom lip, “You like it, don’t you?”

Your body was on fire, Jayce’s fingers toying with your cunt, earning a few whimpers that you tried to muffle, but to no avail. Half-lidded eyes stared at Viktor as you nodded, watching as he leaned back and looked down between your legs underneath the fabric. He could see his boyfriend’s fingers working through your folds, the slick sound loud enough to reach his ears.

Nimble fingers grabbed at your shorts and underwear, yanking them down your thighs until they slipped past your ankles and were discarded to the floor.

Viktor’s eyes sparkled as he watched, licking his lips as Jayce used two fingers to spread you open.

“She’s dripping,” Jayce murmured, the sound of his voice easing your nerves as you relaxed against him, fingers grabbing at his thighs. You closed your eyes, unable to look at Viktor in your flustered state.

“I can see that,” Viktor purred, his fingers toying at your entrance that Jayce had opened for him. You whined as he pushed in a finger, a second one joining much too easily, “So good. Taking my fingers so easily. I bet you’ve dreamt of this, haven’t you?”

Your back arched at his touch, Jayce’s index finger returning to your clit, a ministration that made your hips shake in tandem with Viktor’s fingers thrusting in and out of you. Your mind was hazy, and you couldn’t think straight, eyes fluttering as you fucked yourself along his two fingers that pumped so deep you were beginning to babble out their names incoherently. 

Viktor curved his fingers, pushing on the fleshy pad of muscle inside your pussy that coaxed out a strangled cry from your lips. He didn’t relent, the two men wanting to hear more from you as they worked together. They couldn’t concentrate on anything, fixated on the way your cunt tightened around Viktor’s fingers and how your nails dug into Jayce’s thighs as your climax neared.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, a gasp escaping between parted lips. You attempted to push your thighs together, but Jayce was quick and held your thighs apart.

“Be a good girl,” he breathed into your ear.

Viktor’s free hand moved so he could rub quick circles over your swollen clit, fingers still pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your eyes cracked open, hips twitching violently as heat spread down your thighs and up your abdomen. You locked a gaze with Viktor, and your heart lept into your throat at the way he stared at you—animalistic. Hungry.

“Come for me,” he whispered, fingers curling as he did his best to bring you to your release.

It worked well, especially with Jayce’s lips pressing heady open-mouthed kisses to your neck, hands grabbing at your thighs and keeping you nicely spread.

“Oh my god,” you cried, thighs tensing and toes curling as your orgasm hit you hard. You clenched impossibly tight around Viktor’s fingers, hips stuttering as heavy breaths and moans fell from your lips. Viktor kept fucking you with his fingers, a slower pace to meet with your release until you were spent.

Your hands moved to your face, covering your cheeks that were red from embarrassment. You were still twitching, sensitive from their synchronized touches, and you didn’t dare look at either of them.

Jayce smiled, pressing a chaste kiss at your temple, “That was so hot.”

Viktor chuckled, fingers leaving your cunt, and you whined at the emptiness. He noted the reaction, his gut hot and cock twitching under his shorts.

“Show us your pretty face,” he chided you, voice soft as he grabbed at your wrists. He tugged your hands away from your face, smiling at the way you pouted at him, “Since when are you shy?”

“Since my roommates in a relationship decided they’d rather fuck me instead of sleeping,” you mumbled, shifting and feeling a familiar hardness on your lower back. Jayce grunted, his tanned cheeks red as he twitched, the slight friction on his erection making him eager to make your statement come true.

“We haven’t fucked you yet, though,” Viktor hummed, smirking as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, wet with your juices. He licked them clean and sighed, “Do you want us to?”

You answered quickly, a prominent yes. Within minutes, the three of you had made it to their bedroom, rather clumsy in your efforts. Your back fell against the bedsheets that had been tucked into the mattress so neatly, and your clothes were ripped from your body almost instantaneously.

Viktor was leaning back against the pillows, centred almost perfectly in the middle of the bed, and you were on your knees in front of him. Eyes heavy as you tugged down his shorts and briefs while he tossed his sweaters aside. Jayce settled behind you, also on his knees, and he towered over your smaller frame.

Golden eyes watched you both in awe as you felt Jayce’s bare muscled chest pressed against your back and his cock pushing between your thighs—grazing against your still-wet cunt. You could feel how big he was, and as you stared down at Viktor, you noted his, too.

You didn’t want to think about it, wondering how you would take them. You weren’t much of a go-getter in terms of sex, usually relying on your toys late at night when you needed some relief.

“You’re nervous,” Jayce murmured, calloused hands running up and down your sides. They settled over your breasts, feeling the heaviness of them in his hands as he pinched at your nipples until you gasped. 

“A little,” you answered quietly, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. You leaned to the side enough that you could tilt your head and meet Jayce’s eyes from behind you. His eyes carried a gentle look, different than the fiery gaze from Viktor.

Jayce smiled, ducking his head closer until his lips brushed against yours, “Don’t be. There’s no reason.”

Your eyes fell closed as you eagerly accepted his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as he tasted you carefully. His tongue pushed past your lips, and you opened yours, tongues dancing together effortlessly. He moaned into you, arms wrapping over your waist as you shared a passionate kiss with a bit too much tongue, but gods, you didn’t care.

Especially when you knew Viktor was staring, leaning back and smirking. Cock twitching and pre-cum beading along the tip as he began to stroke himself.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jayce whispered, pulling from your lips and staring into your eyes as your stomach twisted. You hadn’t heard that in a while. “I want to fuck that pretty face of yours.”

And they both did.

Both of them leaned back against the headboard, eyes fluttering as you sucked them both off. Working your mouth along their cocks one at a time, your hand stroking the one your throat neglected.

“Ah,” Viktor whimpered, a hand tight in your hair as he guided you along his cock, amber eyes heavy as you looked up at him, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”

The praises kept you going; it was like a rush of confidence. You took them both deeper than you thought was possible, their cocks fucking your throat until you had to pull back, gasping for air. You could feel how close they both were, and when Jayce roughly tugged your hair back with a growl deep from his chest, you knew you were good enough to be fucked by them. 

Finally.

What you hadn’t expected was how.

The three of you were on the bed, with you sandwiched between them and your back pressed against Jayce’s chest. You looked up at Viktor, your leg hooked around his hips and breathing heavily, unsure where this was going but knowing that you’d do anything. You’d take anything; you needed them.

As Jayce kissed over your bare shoulders, Viktor moved closer, hand at the base of his cock so he could direct it to your entrance. You whined when the tip pushed inside, teasing. 

“Viktor,” you breathed, your hands reaching out to grab at his waist so you could tug him closer, “fuck me. I need you, please.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest, “Mmh, you’ve been so good. How could I say no to that pretty face of yours?” He murmured, closing the distance between your lips so he could pull you into a searing kiss. 

He pushed inside you with one quick thrust, reaching the hilt as you choked on your breath, the sound captured by his lips. “Ah, fuck,” you croaked, your cunt stretching from his length. You whimpered into his mouth, licking inside until your tongues slid together, and he gave you time to adjust to his size.

Jayce reached around you, the familiar feeling of his finger on your clit easing you. The pain of being stretched, a remnant of the past, as you pulled from Viktor’s lips, “Keep going.”

He obeyed quickly, panting as he shifted so he could fuck you, pulling out half-way and pushing back in. Careful movements until he knew you could take it, quickening to a hard pace that had you moaning out his name.

You reached back behind you, looking over your shoulder at Jayce as your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him. You thumbed at the tip, the pre-cum coating his cock as you pumped him in repetition with Viktor’s thrusts. He huffed at the feeling, his forehead pressed against your shoulder blade as the heat in his abdomen tightened.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Viktor’s voice pulled you down from the clouds, a quiet mewl bubbling up from your throat at the praise, “You’re being so good. Taking me so good… can you take us both?”

Both you and Jayce stilled, tensing at the prospect. Jayce’s cock twitched in your hand, and you stared at Viktor wide-eyed, heart slamming against your chest. 

“Both?” You whispered, thankful when Viktor slowed his movements, “I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You don’t have to,” Jayce murmured into your ear, his breath heavy from your hand that had nearly stroked him to completion, “It’s okay if it’s a no.”

Viktor hummed in agreement, leaning forward and ducking to press his lips against your jaw, gentle kisses. You closed your eyes, lips parting as quiet sounds of pleasure came from you. The idea of it made your cunt clench around Viktor’s cock, both of them inside you at once.

Stretched impossibly thin. 

“Yes,” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to look into Viktor’s gold orbs, “I want you both. Fuck, I think I need it.”

Jayce grinned against your ear, your hand eagerly guiding his cock to your already-filled entrance. “Easy now, love.” He said, the pet name making your heart flutter, “One step at a time. I don’t want to hurt you.

Viktor began to slowly push himself in and out of you, slow movements so pleasure filled your senses before you’d be stretched beyond your comfort levels. You squirmed when you felt Jayce’s cock prod at your entrance.

“Let me fuck her,” Jayce mumbled, talking to Viktor, who reluctantly pulled himself out. Your cunt was empty for all of a second before another cock pushed inside you. Stretching you more than Viktor had, but not as long. Gods, you had no idea how you’d make this work.

You leaned forward against Viktor, whimpering as Jayce’s hand grabbed at your hip, digging into your flesh as he fucked you enough to wet his cock.

“You ready? Viktor asked you, his hand caressing your cheek so you were forced to look into his eyes. You nodded, your stomach twisting.

Your eyes closed, and you did your best to relax your body. Your body leaned back against Jayce now as Viktor had to shift his body and position himself until his cock was pushing at your entrance, unsure if this would work.

Then you cried out loudly, choking on a strangled gasp when the head of his cock pushed inside, and your cunt stretched wide to fit him. Jayce was quick to act on your pain, a finger on your clit and lips at your ear, kissing and whispering soft praises in your ear. Anything to calm you, and it worked.

“Shit,” Viktor hissed under his breath, his gaze focused down between your legs, watching as his cock penetrated you and joined Jayce’s inside your tight cunt. You were so wet that it was easy to slide right in, but he was careful and slow, eyes glancing at your face every so often to gauge your reactions.

You clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and only realized you had been holding your breath until you felt him fit inside you fully. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at Viktor with eyes full of unshed tears.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, nearly begging. The fullness between your legs was more than you could imagine, but the pleasure was beginning to outweigh the discomfort. 

Viktor dove forward, his lips crashing to yours as Jayce moved first. He pulled his hips back, his cock moving out of you slowly and rubbing against Viktor’s, a whine from your lips swallowed down by Viktor’s tongue. As Jayce pushed back in, Viktor pulled out—an electric rhythm that made your head spin.

Both men groaned, breathing heavily as they fucked you slowly. Jayce’s forehead, sticky with sweat, was pressed against the nape of your neck as he focused on his movements. His cock twitched inside you with each forward press of his hips, the sensation of your tight cunt swallowing him while rubbing along Viktor’s had his release close to the edge already. 

None of you could speak, the sounds of their slick cocks fucking you in languid movements loud in your ears. Heavy breaths, deep grumbles in their chests, and names rolling from your tongue through pleasured mewls. 

Your hips met their rhythms, and not once was your pussy empty. Stretched so deliciously far that you felt your juices dripping down your thighs and wetting the bedsheets beneath your hips.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” Jayce broke through the silence you shared, his voice shaky as his teeth dragged along your shoulder and focused hard on keeping his release at bay. His finger over your clit had only helped in pushing you further toward your orgasm, fleshy walls clenching tight around the two cocks that took their turns filling you.

“Me neither,” Viktor pulled from your lips, a moan catching in his throat as he stuttered his hips forward, “God—fuck.”

He was the first to fall over the edge, gasping as he buried his face forward against your neck, kissing you as he spilled inside. Jayce was right behind, unable to keep himself from pushing into you, so both cocks stretched you, hot cum sputtering inside you and leaking out as you milked both men dry.

Only a few more tight circles on your clit sent you over, hips twitching and causing both men to groan at the overwhelming feeling of you fucking yourself on their cocks as you rode out your climax. Electricity shooting through your body, loud cries of pleasure falling from your tongue until you were limp and whimpering, shifting so they could both pull out from you.

Once it emptied, you could finally breathe, your body able to relax from the limits you had pushed yourself to. 

“You did so well,” Viktor breathed against your neck, hardly able to speak. His mind was swirling, the weed and exhaustion only dizzying him further as he groaned, “Fuck, I’ve never felt better.”

Jayce hummed in acknowledgement, letting out a heavy sigh as he rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair. He wore a lopsided grin as he tugged you towards him so you were tucked forward against his side and Viktor followed, clinging to you from behind and burying his face in your hair.

“Maybe we’ll do that again sometime,” he eventually spoke, slurring slightly from the tiredness that had begun to consume him. 

“Might have to give me a few business days to recover,” you murmured, your face nuzzled against his chest as the three of you lay atop the sheets. Much too tired to even bother pulling the sheets above your bodies.

Viktor chuckled, inhaling your scent deeply as his fingers traced patterns along your stomach absently, “Maybe I will buy you a strap. You can join me in fucking Jayce one of these days.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jayce argued, half-asleep.

“You get used to it.” You giggled, eyes closed as sleep began to win you over.

You sighed quietly, the sounds of both men snoring softly as they fell into deep slumbers after a week of overworking themselves. Your heart was so full of love as they held you close—it was addicting. Jayce and Viktor were addicting. Whatever this was blossoming into was a dangerous game, but you knew you could trust them with your heart.