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Bound to Please

Chapter Text

Eridan: Strife.

There was no way to fight back. You've already tried every viable option. You aren't quite sure how you had ended up in this position, and you were definitely not enjoying it.

Definitely not.

Sweat and blood coated your body in a fine layer, gathering unpleasantly wherever rubber touched your skin, and sticking your hair flat to your neck and face with no way to sweep it away.

With a snarl, you struggled back against the bindings around your forearms and legs once more, rocking back and forth and trying to roll, or to break the cords holding you. Too bad there was little space left for even the minute squirming you managed. You heard a chuckle behind you and tried to bite out a scathing remark, but the thick, wet wool invading your mouth muffled your words beyond recognition. Your tongue felt uncomfortably thick. A clawed finger traced down your spine, almost mockingly light and teasing as it moved down your bare back.

A shudder ran through your body and a shameful whine escaped your throat as you arched into the touch. You hated this. You hated it so much. You were royalty, and yet here you were, reducing yourself to being touched by this mutated piss blood. You hadn't expected this, though. You wanted it to stop, to be over, to be in control again, to...

A fine crackle of electricity sparked across your body, down your chest and out your limbs to make your fingers and toes tingle as the shock centralized on the one area that hadn't been touched by that teasing hand since you'd been restrained. A muffled cry, and you jerked back, tilting your hips up to offer your dripping nook to the smug bastard, trying to scream the thoughts that had been running through your mind over and over again for nearly an hour now.

Just get it over with and pail me already!

Sollux: Gloat.

Now why would you do that? The sounds he was making were already beautiful, perfect even, and you drank them in while they lasted. Angry. Desperate. Wanting. He would probably refuse to fight with you again for a while if there was even the slightest chance that you’d end up doing this again. Not that he could stop you if you were in the mood. He was proving just how vulnerable to your power he was as he twitched and jerked, fighting to free himself even as he shook from the aftermaths of your hands having been on him. The cords wrapped around his wrists are being strained a lot more than the ones locking his upper and lower legs together, which is a surprise. You were already pretty sure he’d ruined those ones.

Damn. You take idle note to discard them all, since you don’t really need yet another unnecessary explosion.

Despite him ruining equipment, you chuckle, and he snarls out something incoherent. It’s been a while since you gagged him with his own scarf, but the reminder that he’s helpless still increased the heat in your body, urging your bulges to push themselves further free from beneath their bony sheath. Maybe it’s finally time to give in to your needs. Both of your needs.

Stroking a claw down the ridges of his spine, you contemplate while he makes his case in the form of trembles, minute movements in your direction, and whines louder than ever before. You reward him with a few shocks, followed by tentacles of psiionic energy that go right for the area that you’ve been restricting the movement of the most. You had to make sure he couldn’t find any friction; otherwise, the fun may have been cut short. The immediate response, including him finally bowing his head completely and cocking his hips upward in a not-quite-silent plea for relief, is enough to push you over the edge. One final moment of restraint and you’re leaning over his back, pressing your bulge against his generously lubricated opening as you tug the stupid hipster scarf from his mouth.

Eridan doesn’t even bother to insult you, though there’s a distinct sneer still on his face as he grinds back against you. Your breath catches at the first real stimulation you’re felt in the past couple of hours, too. “If you don’t pail me right fuckin’ noww, lowwblood—”

“You’ll what? Thnarl thome more? Thay it.”


Suddenly you’re almost frustrated enough to do it anyway, but he’ll be damned if you let him get the necessary pleasure to—

Please, Sol. You wwon.

He doesn’t even have enough time to breathe before you’re inside of him.

Chapter Text

Past Sollux: Be the Cockblock.

Why would you cockblock yourself? That’s stupid. Besides, you’re too busy making Eridan eat his own overly-wavey words as you shove his face into the floor manually, just for the satisfying feeling of his head under your hand as you straddle his back. You easily kept the rest of his body plastered firmly to the ground with your psiionics.

You'd been fighting, again, obviously. Your relationship was at an uncomfortably new agreement that theoretically promised he respected you in some sense, but in practice he was probably just being desperate and you'd be damned if you were going to let him get the best of you in the first duel you had with him newly filling in as your kismesis. Apparently he hadn’t thought of this outcome, because he’s swearing and snarling and trying his damnedest to force himself out of your hold.

You scoff, lifting yourself up easily. His head twists around immediately to say something, but he lets out an embarrassingly high squeal instead as you casually lift him with invisible hands and make your way to the room where the circle of transportalizors is. The aquatic troll’s struggles slow for a moment, probably in confusion as you step onto the one leading to your own room, taking him with you. Pulling him close to make sure it recognizes him, despite his feet not touching the metal and his overall sudden increased struggling, you pause as he speaks.

“Wwhere the fuck are wwe goin’, Sol? Wwhat are you up to?”

You shoot him a smirk. “We’re going to conthumate our kithmethithitude, of courthe.”

Activating the transportalizor, you relax very slightly as your senses are filled with a feeling of home and your surroundings become the familiar honeycomb-and-technology-strewn entryway of your own private room. Then the asshole’s knee collides with your stomach and you drop him, staggering back and tripping on a stray wire. He’s on you in a second, restraining your hands above your head. Well, fuck.

“If you think for evven a second that I’m lettin’ a lowwblood like you control me—” With a mild smirk full of oversized teeth, you flip the both of you over with no more than a twitch of your head. He swears, and loudly. “Stop fuckin’ abusin’ your powwers, pissblood!” You can feel your face darkening as you casually slide off of him and roll him over. He makes to move but finds the attempt fruitless, even as you manhandle his arms behind his back. “Dam it, Captor! Fight fair!”

“You never fight fair. Thettle down.”

“Fuck you!” Tired of this bullshit, you grab the first cord that isn’t plugged into a mainframe and begin to wrap it around his wrists. He jolts, this time more desperately. A small spark of arousal shoots through your gut at the look on his face. To be honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to actually pail him when you agreed to try this relationship. Sure, the asshole is attractive, but you hadn't been sure if that could compensate for his piss poor personality. If he keeps this up, though, you think you’ll do just fine. Tying off the cord, you begin to wind the ends up higher, bridging over the gaps between his forearms. Every couple of twists, you force his elbows just a little closer together, revelling in the strained sounds of pain he makes as his shoulders are forced back. You jerk it again, and he snarls. “Fuck, Sol, that fuckin’ hurts!”

“That’th what I wath going for.” One final tug, and you tie it off again. He squirms as you coax him to kneel and stroke his back. “You’ll enjoy thith jutht ath much ath I will if you behave, highblood.

“I wwill end you.”

His face is dark and his voice promises something akin to death, but you can see the spark in his eyes that tells you that you haven't crossed any actual lines. That gives you all the confidence you need to snort and move on.

“Good luck.” Sliding your hands to the edge of his shirt, you grip the hem and rip. Eridan almost manages to throw you off in his immediate fit of anger. You shove back down on him, and he gasps for air. There’s a flutter on his sides, barely visible through the huge tear. You wait another moment before relenting enough to allow him to breathe.


“Thhut up before I gag you.”

“You wwouldn’t.”

Crawling over his forcibly submitted form and pressing your bulge – just interested enough for him to be able to feel the difference – up against his ass as you bring your lips close to the side of his face. “You tell me, athhole.” He closes his mouth with an audible click, shuddering at the warmth that must have washed over his fins from your breath. You lift your hand to one of his horns and curl your fingers around the base, thumbing the rough flesh there almost without thought. He lets out a whimper, and it’s music to your hearing ducts.

“Let me go.”

You wait just long enough for him to think you’re seriously considering this, before you smile and lick the fin. He stifles himself from making any real sound. Barely.


Chapter Text

Eridan: Strife.

You're trying, you really are! Fuckin' shameful noises are escaping you every minute that passes as the pissblood teases your fins with his tongue—fuck, tongues, apparently, fucking mutant—and the sensitive bases of your horn with his hand.

When he managed to get the upper hand on you, you aren't sure, but until a moment ago you'd been intent on getting it back and making him pay for thinking for even a second that he could ever be superior to royalty. Then he had pushed you face-first into the honey scented floor and tied your arms together so tightly it felt like they would crack right out of your shoulders.

Sollux was enjoying this far too much, and you were scared that you were beginning to, too. Some traitor in the back of your mind whispered that this was better - far better - than having no quadrants at all. The rest of you was screaming all but out loud for it to shut up and help you figure out how to escape and turn this on him.

Electricity crackled in the air, and you tensed. He chuckled and shifted all of his weight onto you, pressing your face harder into the floor and freeing his supporting hand to move to your other horn. Oh cod, if he kept this up, you were scared that you were going to give in if only to have relief.


The hands paused for a tick, then continued their motions, squeezing tighter and suddenly not being quite so careful with their attached claws. You moaned, then cried as their sharp tips pierced the thin flesh.


He sounded pleased. You could feel blood welling before the first drop even trickled down and made a new home in your eye.

Gritting your teeth as you squeezed it shut, you bucked. "Get the fuck off'a me." A small pop of pure energy exploding near your face had you starting, and a shock directly over your bone bulge forced out a new whimper and an unmistakeable thrust of your hips hunting for more. "Sollux!" The snap was closer to the orders you're used to giving him, but he just pauses his ministrations to pap your cheek condescendingly. Grubfucker.

"Eridan, I wathn't making idle threatth when I thaid I'd gag you. Thut the fuck up."

Your heart skipped a beat, half in fear and half don't know. "Sollux don't you fuckin' dare evven try--"

The handful of words is barely out before he grabbed the end of your scarf and shoved it unceremoniously into your open mouth. You tried to spit it out but he just forced more in until you were gagging and your jaw was beginning to ache. The smirk that came to his lips was practically audible, and it sickened you. "Now, that'th better, ithn't it?" Mouth too open to move and tongue pinned, your reply wasn't much more than a muffled scream. You know your eyes are wide with the terror you’re feeling now, because you really have no clue what he’s going to do to you. From the feeling of what’s being ground up against you, he’s almost ready to pail you already. You can’t really deny that you aren’t almost ready to accept him, as far as your body went.

Not that you would ever lower yourself to that, but that was beside the point.

He seemed pretty damn pleased with himself, now, abandoning his attack on your fin and horns and pulling away. "Eridan," he was tisking now, running his claws along the tears of your shirt. "You don't thound like you're enjoying yourthelf."

Miserable fuck. You snarl again, as best as you fucking can under the circumstances. He chuckles and rips the back out of your shirt completely. Bipch! Grubfucking bipch! You start struggling again full-force until invisible forces clamp down on your body and sparks explode all over, feeling like tiny fires igniting and disappearing just as quickly in bursts of pain and vapourizing what's left of your clothing. A second later and you're bare, taking tiny, gasping, barely-there breaths. You’re paralyzed with fear and everything hurts.

A hand strokes the small of your back, and a soothing whisper coos in your hear duct. You're too latched onto the sound before you realize he tricked you into calming down even though he undoubtedly just caused a huge amount of tiny burns on your body. From the sting in your ribs, he had even managed to singe the thin skin of your gills. They’re gasping open and shut with your ridiculously useless breaths, clearly trying harder than you are to draw more air into your lungs, though they’re more or less useless out of the water.

As the thought passed through your mind, you found yourself taking a huge breath through your nose, stifled protests a garble of nothingness. Sollux shushed you, coming around to your face and gently removing the makeshift gag. After trying to bite his fingers and receiving a cheap shot to the face in reply where his unguarded claws scraped your skin, you nevertheless relaxed, if only a little. Your shoulders were screaming, your horns were sore, your body burned, your jaw ached, and you could feel both dry blood in tiny rivulets down your forehead and fresh oozing to the surface on your cheek. He wound the other end of the scarf somewhat neatly, tucked it under your face in a mockery of a pillow, and then casually lay down next to you. His face was close to yours, and you were tempted to try and bite it, but you were distracted by the reflection in his glasses. You hadn’t expected to look as disheveled as you did. You looked a little beaten, but you also looked...aroused, excited, pleased, wanting...everything you felt and didn’t want him to see.

His fingers ghosted over the cuts, and you winced, shifting back a little. It barely even registered that you could move. You were too intent on him as he moved closer, staring—you could feel it right through his glasses—straight into your eyes. Refusing to look away first, you held the gaze until he smirked and swooped in, pressing your lips together. Simple contact, barely even worthy of being labelled a kiss.

It felt amazing anyway, and you felt your stomach flip a little when he very lightly bit your lower lip and tugged.

For a long few moments, he kept it up, and then he pulled back. “Do you want me to make you feel good or not, Eridan?” You stared, took a breath. Licked your lips and gathered a bit of moisture in your mouth.

Then you spat in his face.

Chapter Text

Sollux: make troll sushi.

What the hell is sushi?

The fish bastard just spat in your face. For a second you feel your eyes flare with energy, before it reduces down to a manageable amount. His eyes widen a fraction as well, and then he's crushing his arms underneath of himself while you're straddling his stomach and yanking him up by the throat. Ignoring his stuttered breaths this time, you bare your fangs in an obvious parody of a smile, then lay another soft kiss against his gasping lips. He returns it weakly, probably trying to placate you like the idiot he was. You nibbled the supple flesh until he moaned softly and then bit down, hard. Eridan jerked, then made an odd choking sound as his position shifted and he slipped lower in your grip. He made a sound that was suspiciously similar to "fuck you", his arms yanking wildly against their bonds while his body shook with the effort of maintaining the position he's adapted to support a fraction of his weight in an attempt to breathe.

You take a breath, lick the blood from your lips. "That wath rude, Ed. Thay you're thorry." You raised his eyebrows casually. Eridan's mouth moved soundlessly, violet streaking down his chin. His face was fast becoming more purple than grey, really, though that may have also had to do with his lack of air. Well. You let him go, and he flopped down, wheezing.

There was a few greedy inhalations before he croaked out a few weak sounds. You pet his hair, rubbed his horns, wiped away a bit of blood until Eridan mumbled your name. You hummed in acknowledgement. "I'm...f-fuck."

"Hmmm?" You smoothed a few purple and black strands from his sweaty forehead.

"I' thorry, Tholluk--"

You smacked him in the mouth before he could finish and he coughed out a laugh. Leaned your face down close to his, cradled his cheek, scraped the edge of your claw over the wounds you'd already given him before digging it in. "Do I need to gag you again?" The thought was tempting. You pressed your bulges hard into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. You feel his gills flutter uselessly against your still clothed thighs and chuckle again.

He recovers relatively quickly, though, even as you continue to half-heartedly rut against him to relieve the pressure a bit. "No, mutant, you need to let me the fuck go." You dig your claw deeper and the snarl stutters into a yowl as he finished his sentence. Nepeta would be jealous of the sounds he's making, though she'd likely be attracted for a reason entirely different from yours. The sounds were like an aphrodisiac. Too bad the creature they came from was a piece of garbage not fit to see himself anywhere near the status Feferi held.

Nodding as if he just agreed with you, you reach for his scarf and slowly roll it into a more efficient, breathable gag than what it had been. He squirms, but all that achieves is making you more excited for the inevitable end of this scuffle. Not before you made him squirm and beg for it, though. You'd lost count of how many times he'd publicly humiliated or guilted you using FF. A spark of anger rises and, reaching down, you dig your claws into the hollows of his jaw until he gives in and his mouth open. He whimpers just a little, and it would almost be endearing if not for the hatred that mixes with the fear in his eyes. You let out a sickeningly false, but nevertheless sweet-sounding coo. "How about 'you wwon the fight' or 'you are the better troll', then?" You faked the royal troll's accent to an almost ridiculous level, and Eridan just glared. "Oh wwell. Too bad."

The scarf was stuffed back in, you rose to your feet, kicked him back onto his stomach, and then disappeared from his view.

Chapter Text

Eridan: Stri—

Oh shut up.

The peasant just disappeared from view, and you hated to admit it, even to yourself, but were nervous as hell about what he was doing. You just knew he was going to fuck you up for spitting in his face. At least you had the satisfaction of having done it.

You were secure in the knowledge that you were going to pay him back everything he'd done to you. His hands slipped up your thighs and you let out a weak glub, shrinking away from the touch and wriggling like a guppy out of water. You kicked out a couple more times, and then the shorter troll’s powers clamped down on you, forcing your legs wide and folding them while his hands wrapped more cords around them. Started at the knee, worked his way along all the way back to the crease of your hip and ankle, tethering them so well that there was so chance of straightening your leg out. Repeated the process on the other leg. You felt like one of those gobblebeasts that the human children seemed to favour eating when it was particularly orange outside.

Well...fuck. You tried to squirm, but you couldn’t move an inch. Fuck fuck fuck. He touched your ass, slid his hands up along your hips. Claws scratched along, raking more shallow grooves into your skin. Not minding his claws in the slightest, he began to rub your sides, and then up along your arms, massaging the aching muscles. Despite the pain, it sent relief flowing through you, and you melted, moaning low in your chest.

“Eridan, are you ready to beg?”

You shook your head vehemently, and he let you. You wiggled your toes, and then your fingers, and relaxed even more into the touch. He moved up to your shoulders, straddling your back, squeezing and kneading. It felt amazing, even with him slowly grinding against you. He kept at it, never stopping to pleasure himself properly, never stopping to even take some of his clothing off. He moved to your neck, your head, your horns. The increasing number of wounds stung, but as long as they weren’t aggravated too much when he touched you, it didn’t detract much from the feeling.

Once you were a puddle of want, he repeated his question, and it was much harder to reply in the negative this time. Not just because of the gag or even because he restrained your moments, but because you were torn between pleasure and making him suffer the denial in return for the humiliation he was putting you through. You’d sooner admit defeat than beg, and Eridan Ampora never admitted defeat.

Then Sollux pulled himself off of you, standing with a grunt. Your eyes widened, and your breath came faster. He wasn’t...he wasn’t. Footsteps sounded, moving further away. Oh cod. “I’m going to get thomething to eat, Eridan. Do you want anything?”

You let out a yell, loud even for the muffled sound it became, and began to struggle.

“I’ll thee if I can find that. Oh, I forgot.” The soft steps returned, and he kneeled beside you, rolling you over to lay on your arms – which, by the way, were rapidly becoming sore again under your weight. You grunted, then bucked when he ghosted his touch over your bulge. It had long escaped from its bony sheath, and had curled and tucked itself into the curve of your thigh so that it wasn’t crushed under your combined weight should he choose to climb on top of you as he so often did.

The tentacle-like appendage uncurled enough to slither up your stomach, swelling a little in its freedom and flushing a brighter violet. The Gemini, suddenly and thankfully choosing to be delicate with his claws, wrapped his hand around it.

Oh...oh fuck. He slicked his palm with the premature genetic material that slicked the surface as a natural lubricant, moving it up and down a few times. You moaned, bucked up, even whined and keened for attention right up until he let go.

No. No. Nononononononono. Anyfin but that. Don’t leave now. I’ll behave.

The hand returned and you sighed in relief. He chuckled, then wrapped something around the base of your bulge. Stomach dropping, you realized what he was doing and your vision flooded with unwanted violet. He double looped the cable and then tied it off, making it loose enough that you had no fear of losing it, but definitely tight enough to keep you from being able to come. It wasn’t like you were willing to let yourself go without a pail there, anyway. This, however, would also keep you painfully aroused. Another careful loop tied it to your thigh to keep it from freeing itself.

The touch disappeared and you sobbed, curling into yourself on your side. It reappeared on your shoulder. “You can athk for a head cuthioning pad or even a full rectangular rethting thurface if you’re feeling brave.”

Fuck him and his talk of bravery. You curled tighter, focused on inhaling steadily to keep yourself from giving into his tricks. He huffed and left, leaving you to watch the bees crawling over the honey-soaked mainframes.

Within a couple of minutes you were regretting your decision. Within fifteen, you were on your stomach, trying to rub your legs together to either provide your bulge with some freedom, or some stimulation. It received neither. Not even from the floor. Within thirty, you’re trying to scream through your gag for him to come back. Eventually, you sag with exhaustion and press your face into the scarf he’d left lying by your face. The folds had been messed up when you’d been flipped over and back, but it was still better than the floor.

Once in a while you hear him somewhere off in the distance. You’ve lost count of how much time has passed when you hear his footsteps nearing you again, and you don’t miss the chance to yell again, fighting the bonds. Something was trickling down your face, but at this point you really couldn’t be sure if it was blood, sweat, or tears.

A bare foot settled on your hip, and you stilled. If you didn’t get to pail this asshole before the day was through, you were going to flip your shit.

“Do you have anything to thay?”

You whimper, but you shake your head defiantly, trying to turn your face to plead silently with your eyes. Don’t make me beg. Sollux. I get it, cod dam it.

“Do you want to move your armth?”

That was a trap, but everything hurt so much that you nodded anyway.

Chapter Text

Sollux: Cut Eridan some slack.

You can do that. Probably. Maybe.

When you hesitated, Eridan made the most pitiful noise you’d ever heard, and you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, you stroked a hand over his hair almost too gently until he relaxed again. Not for the first time, you wondered if he’d pursued this relationship and consented to this humiliation simply because he didn’t want to be alone.

An honest to gog flicker of pity shot through you a moment before he bucked up, managing to gouge open your arm with his horn. The split second possibility of flipping quadrants disappeared and you shoved his face hard into the floor a couple of times to knock some sense into (of out of, either worked) him. By time you stopped, he looked dazed and a new trickle of blood was dripping from his nose. You smiled.

Eridan barely reacted as you made quick work of removing the bindings on his arms, only groaning when the cords loosened off of the fins crushed against his skin and twitching his fingers when the last loop came off. You noted the mistake as you watched blood return to his hands, but didn’t pause during your momentary chance to have him immobile without effort. You repositioned his arms for him, wrist-over-wrist above his head. Tying them together again was much simpler without him squirming all over and you having to split your concentration.

Even as you thought of it, he wriggled and turned his fuzzy gaze towards you, face looking almost relaxed. You chuckled and pet his hair again. “You’re quite the good boy onthe you learn your plathe, hmm Eridan?” His eyes popped wide with sudden clarity and he tried to shake his denial, but you gripped his hair and forcefully nodded his head instead. “That’th right. Good, good boy.”

Another whine. You raised an eyebrow as he tried to rut against the ground and failed miserably due to his wonderful lack of mobility. You papped his cheek to get his attention back, and then asked your previous question again.

“Are you ready to beg?”

Hesitation, and then a minute shaking of his head. Your bulges weren’t impressed, already pressing back out from their body sheath. For a moment you considered shucking your pants and replacing his gag in favour of stuffing your mutant junk down his throat after allowing him to see it just long enough to realize there were two, before you sighed and dismissed the idea. At this stage, without the proper type of gag, he’d probably just try to even things out by biting one of both of them off.

Annoyed, you were almost tempted to get up and go relieve yourself, because half an hour of ignoring your arousal had done absolutely nothing for your willpower to give in and pail him so hard that he’d still be able to feel it when the counters on the computers hit zero.

For a while, you just stroked his head, tuning out his continued noises for the most part as you thought about other things to do to him. Your hands slowly drifted over his horns, his hair, his neck, his shoulders, his back. Rubbing, petting, scratching so lightly it barely left lines for barely a moment.

You reached the curve of his ass and caressed the twin globes thoughtfully.

A long moment filled with ass-fondling later, a huge smirk split your cheeks.

Chapter Text

Eridan: What the fuck is the mutant up to?

Like hell if you wwould fuckin’ knoww.

You’d given up squirming for now, laying there and taking it as long as all he was doing was touching you all delicate-like. Your bulge was aching as it was, tight against your belly. You weren’t sure you’d be able to take much more stimulation without crying in frustration.

The problem was that not that your hands had feeling in them, you’d safely twisted them around to grip the opposite arm in a way that had ultimately relaxed your shoulders. Maybe anywhere else this would have been a good thing. Here, though, it meant there was one less distraction from the gentle sweeps of his fingers and claws across your skin, making you twitch closer in search of solid contact.

Sollux’s hand reached the end of your back and drifted across on butt cheek, and then the other. Both hands settled firmer grips on the flesh and kneaded at it for one glorious minute of actual contact.

He made a sound deep in his chest that went straight to your nook. Distressed, though for what reason exactly you weren’t sure, you tilted your hips up in what you hoped was an enticing manner before your actions crashed through your mind and you jerked yourself back down. The Gemini made an interesting – interested, dam it! – hum.

A shock so small you almost don’t notice it crackles over your facial fins, followed by another one that is definitely not small at all and you’re keening. More sparks and jolts touch your face and arms and oh carp those are your gills wwhy does that feel so good on your gills—

Sharp pain shoots through your backside, and it takes a second loud slap for you to realize that Sollux just smacked your ass. You growl and he only does it again, seemingly pleased when you let out a muffled yelp. Jolts that are stronger than before shoot across the sensitive slits in your ribs again and try as you might, you can’t keep the tears of frustration from leaking down your face. It feels far too amazing, and you can feel dribbles of genetic material running down your thighs from your nook.

More smacks in increasing strength and swiftness rain down, each one minding claws a little less and each one with a little less concentration on where the electric charge of power lands on your body.

You can’t be absolutely certain, but you’re pretty sure you’re screaming through your scarf.

It stopped.

Terror shot through you. No don’t leave me again I’ll be good please please please— There was no sound to signify him moving, and you started struggling. His hand smoothed over your burning ass almost soothingly and you trembled so hard you were almost shaking. He shooshed you quietly. You strained your muscles trying to escape. Shoosh me wwhy don’t ya I’ll shoosh your glubbin’ face if ya don’t let me come.

He asks his stupid question again. A chill runs down your spine when you realize you can’t say no, and after a long moment you start fighting harder than ever. He chuckled, and you snarled out something incoherent that even you can’t remember the context of.

A claw strokes your spine. Electricity dances over you again, dancing over your fingertips and toes before sweeping inward and going straight for your bulge. You buckle and press your face to the ground, lifting your hips and trying to stifle your own high-pitched keen your relief.

Sollux shifts somewhere behind you. The sound of clothing rustling has your heart in your throat and you fuckin’ sob when he presses his bare bulge against you. His chest presses to your back as he leans over top of you and tugs the scarf free of your fangs. You don’t bother fucking around, instead grinding back and gasping out as close to a command as you can muster – which, to be quite honest, isn’t that much. “If you don’t pail me right fuckin’ noww, lowwblood—”

The nookstain has the audacity to snort, rubbing against you tantalizingly. “You’ll what? Thnarl thome more? Thay it.”

You bite down hard on your lip, and you can feel his frustration as he grinds back harder than before. You’re both angry and frustrated and neither of you want to give in and after some contemplation you decide that this fucker owes you big time.

The growl growing in his chest is just barely audible when you whisper the words.

Please, Sol. You wwon.

Chapter Text

Eridan: Get exactly what you asked for.


You scream out loud as, all at once, you feel too full. Way, way too full. Sollux's hips are pressed tight behind you, just like they had been before, but it's painfully – literally painfully clear that his bulge is now inside of you. You lay there for a few endless moments, gasping for air, but he keeps himself still despite the twitches you can feel, and you're thankful.

It hurts, but you resist the shuddering sob that rolls up through you and you grind back. Your mind isn't entirely clear, and for some reason fixates on the fact that he must still be wearing something, because you can still feel something pressed against your backside besides his hips.

The feeling of him drawing back and slamming back in derails that train of thought and you yell again, fingers clenching and scratching for something to hold onto on the floor. Sollux stretches over you and reaches to hold your wrists down in one place. He can't let you have anything, can he? Stupid Eridan, he isn't even allowed to rip his own claws out scrabbling at the tile while he's fucked with no pail on a dirty, honey-sticky floor.

Shame washes over you at the realization that you hadn't even thought of a pail until now. That should have been your first priority. What kind of highblood were you?

His hips snap again, forcing the thought from your head. His lips and tongues and teeth work along the line of your neck and jaw with light, scraping nibbles as he starts up a slow, easy pace. You're not sure whose benefit it's for, but you hope for his sake that he isn't going easy on you because he thinks your untouched nook can't take his peasant bulge at his pace.

Even if he is right. Especially because he's right. There's no room for pity in a kismesissitude.

A fang drags along one of your facial fins and you will never admit you made a sound quite like the one that just escaped your throat. “Eridan.” What, does he want you to talk more? Like hell if you'll talk just so that he can get off faster. The fang returns with a friend, and both of them are a little more insistent this time. “Eridan.” He sucks the fin into his mouth. Your lips press tighter until the abrupt, mind-numbing pain of a hole being pierced into the membrane hits you.

“Sol—Solstop! No! Wwhat? Let go—”

You can't wrench your head away, it will check your fin even further. You're trying to figure out alternative escapes when the fangs retreat, and a hand strokes your opposite cheek almost soothingly. The fucker doesn't even say anything for a few seconds, too busy moving in and out of you with an almost intolerable slowness. Really, it barely even hurts anymore. You're made of tougher shit than he thinks. A tongue laps at the hole, the tip pokes itself at it, tearing more skin. You don't even realize you're crying until a cool trickle streaks down your overheated throat.

“Cod dam it, Sol, wwhat!”

“I'm going to put the other one in, now, kay?”

... What.

He draws back slowly and you're struggling like all hell to get away, but he has both a mental and physical grip on you and you aren't going anywhere. You feel the unmistakeable presence of a second bulge's tip at the entrance of your nook, nudging right up against where the first one is still halfway inside of you. A panicked cry escapes your throat. “Sol no please please you'll tear me apart!”

Sollux's hand leaves your wrists. His chest leaves your back. After a pause, he pulls out of you completely. A whole different type of panic surges through you—no, he'll leave now. He'll leave and you'll be alone. Requited hate is better than being alone. So much better. It hurt so good until the panic overrode things...but you're really not sure if you can accept what he wants.

As he crawls around into your line of sight, your eyes go straight to what's between his legs, and there they are. Two mustard-flushed bulges protrude from underneath his bone sheath, each a bit longer and slimmer than your own. Both have your genetic material on them, but one is much more thickly covered than the other. They're curled around each other, twitching around as if they don't know what they should be doing. You suppose that they don't.

The touch to your face returns, and a thumb rubs away one of your tears. You hesitantly lift your eyes, expecting to find perfectly platonic disgust on his face. What you find, though, seems to be thinly veiled annoyance with what you hope isn't a flicker of true pity. He leans down and kisses your lips very gently, and you close your eyes tight. His hand disappears again and settles delicately to your side a moment later with its twin. A light push and he was rolling you over onto your back, the position possible without pain now that your arms are above your head. You tried to lower them to your chest, but he'd wrapped just enough of your forearms for it to be uncomfortable. Besides that, he shoots you a look at the movement, and faint blue and red energy wrapped the limbs and forces them back up before you could even do it yourself.

You lay there watching him watch you for what must have been a minute or two. Your bulge twitches, and you could see his doing the same. A thick swallow, and then you sigh. “Could you...first...wwith your fingers?” It's a tentative, stumbling request, and something you'd never expected to have to ask somebody that injures you as part of their job description. His eyes flick to your face. You think, at least. Fucking mutant eyes. You inhale deeply through your mouth – your nose was never made to breathe through, so it felt unnatural despite how little you actually swam – and continue just as hesitantly. “ a friend, not a kismesis.” Those eyes widen just a fraction, and you look away in shame. Your face is probably a very royal shade of purple by now. “...Please.”

The Gemini touches your shoulder and your gaze snaps back immediately. “Yeah, I can do that.” He smiles faintly and leans down, kissing your lips lightly. “You'll owe me.”

Even though you should have been snapping as him, you just smile back.

Chapter Text

Eridan: Get one brief warning in the form of a sudden smirk before Sollux's fingers shove inside your nook.

Wwait, fuckin' wwha--

You let out a choked scream as pain rips through your insides, slamming your face into the ground as you try to pull yourself away. Sollux catches you by the back, hooking the claws of his free hand into your skin without hesitation and holding you in place. He has the audacity to click his stupid tongues at you as he begins a rough pace with his fingers, not at all guarding the sharp edges of his nails...if anything, he was purposely curling and twisting his hand purposely to make it worse.

Damn it, you knew there would be a catch but--

"Lay there and take it, gillfucker. Or I might try my hand at fucking some gillth mythelf." Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You slump to the ground, sobbing almost uncontrollably as another finger slid in alongside the first two, closely followed by another. There isn't even pleasure as he forces your body to stretch beyond what it was built to handle, trying to grab for something - anything - to ground yourself. Anything was better than writhing around like a wriggler. You just barely catch the edge of a tile, and you grasp tighter, squeezing your eyes shut. Behind you, the psionic bastard is working his thumb into you. Another gasp of pain escapes you as your claws all bend dangerously. The pressure in your nook increases. As the yellowblood's fist shoves its way into you, one...two...maybe three of them snap.

Sollux: Fuck him with both of them already.

Nah, not quite yet. Maybe in a minute. Honestly! Priorities. You just managed to get your entire hand into Eridan's swollen and potentially bleeding nook. (You couldn't tell his blood apart from his genetic material, so you couldn't be sure if you'd ripped anything. Really, though, you wouldn't lie and say you cared anyway.) Curling your fingers into a fist and listening to him keen at a higher pitch than you'd ever heard him make, you pressed deeper and then drew back a few times, gouging his reactions as you started a light pace. He was crying and snotting at this point, and it wasn't hugely attractive, but the knowledge that this was for you and you alone had your bulge aching.

Uncurling your fist again and drawing your hand out - your arm was coated in purple past your wrist! Greedy seadweller - and held his nook open with a few psionic tendrils. Genetic material and blood ran down his thighs, pooling between his knees. Feeling generous, you let a shock of psionics slip up to tease along his bulge. He squealed, and more gushed out. You lifted yourself to your knees and pressed the tips of both bulges to his gaping hole, pausing and stroking his ass. "Ready?"

Only a sob answered you, but you'd only asked for irony's sake anyway. The amount of lubricant he'd produced by now certainly helped to ease the way as you slid home, releasing all the psychic holds you had on him aside from the one still mercilessly torturing his bound bulge. You don't wait before you pull back until only the tips are in and then shove back in, starting a rough pace and clamping down on his body with every psionic hold you can without distracting you from your goal.

And with that goal in mind, you fuck him hard and fast, never pausing at his moans to wonder if they're in pleasure or pain. He chose this, not you. You were going to reap the spoils of being forced into a kismesissitude with this stupid fish bastard until he realized you were too good for him and he abandoned the notion of ever filling a quadrant with you again. You were going to love it, and he was going to enjoy every moment of being demeaned, fucked raw, and left in a puddle of his own worthless genetic material.

Or maybe...

Your gut tightens considerably as you feel the need to back off and locate a bucket increase. It's fine, though, because you already have one right here.

Digging in with your claws to stop the desperate squirms as his mind catches up yours, you slam your hips against the highblood's one last time before you let yourself go.

Chapter Text

Eridan: Be the bucket

You are now the buc--

Eridan: You are not a glubbin bucket!

You try to scream and fight, but he isn't having it and abuses his power to the point that you can't even open your mouth. You can feel the hot, low blood material filling you, and you fight to keep yourself breathing as the pressure builds. Your body already felt tight with your own material being forced to mostly stay put in your receptacle bag. You had felt lucky before, even through the shame, when some of the pressure had eased off as he let you wet yourself before. But now, it's like you're inflating, which is--

He has two bulges. Why is the thought of him having more genetic material such a surprise?

Nonetheless, your body is straining to contain all this filthy low blood material. His bulges are squirming around inside of you, apparently as uncomfortable with the tight feeling as you are. Glubbin' fuck, though, it feels so good and there's still a cord pulled tight around the base of your own bulge and it's throbbing in time to the strong pleasure shooting through your nook and gut and entire body. He isn't pulling out, either, seemingly content with keeping you pinned in place as you whine pitifully and tremble as you try to at least keep yourself on your knees. You don't want to lose the last piece of dignity you have. His hand strokes your abdomen, lingering on the slight curve of your lower gut that your combined genetic material has created. His chest presses to your back as he leans over you, lips and fangs teasing along your facial fin and ear before he speaks. "You wanna come, bucket?"

A growl reverberates through your chest. "I am not a glubbin bucket!" You buck against him, and you're surprised when you actually move. The feeling only worsens the tightness in your body, the need to release your own material. You can feel him smirk. Bastard.

"Thay pleathe."

"Pleathe, Tholluckth." Sollux's hips press tighter against your rear, and his nails dig into your skin. You gasp and glub weakly as the tension rises to an all new high, and last maybe two seconds before you sob and claw at the floor. You bite your lip and taste fresh blood.

"Thay it."

Shaking your head it the only response you can give. If you dare try to respond, you'll snap and start begging like the lowest blood. As it is, when that familiar crackle of energy traces across your body, you break anyway and start blubbering useless words without even understanding them. It may or may not have been begging, but Sollux carefully rolls you onto your back without pulling out. It seems he enjoys doing this to y--

You yelp as the psionic power seizes you and jerks your lower half upwards. Sollux retracts his bulge in the same moment, and he watches in obvious fascination and amusement as mustard yellow tinged with muddy brown and purple immediately begin to stream down your body. You're disgusted, and it's dripping all over your face, but the crick in your neck from balancing more or less on your shoulders and head alone is more distracting. "Ww-what the f-fuck?" You reach up with your arms to try and get at your bulge yourself. Unpredictably, your wrists snap back to the floor. His hand tugs at the cords binding you. They loosen and you glub weakly, bucking into the air and almost toppling over. "Fuck, Sol, please!"

"Call me mathter."

"You're outta your glubbin' mind!"

"You're right."

"I a--I am?"

"You are. Open your mouth."

What? Your mouth opens of its own volition, more to begin questioning him than to follow his order. Before you have a chance to make a sound, he cuts the cord restraining you and grips you tight, and you're coming so hard that it takes a shockingly long few seconds to realize you're choking. Moreso, that you're choking on your own--

Sollux: Watch Eridan defile himself and cough up his own genetic material.


Chapter Text

Sollux: Regard your work fondly.

You watched Eridan's gills flutter as if expecting the lack of oxygen to be a signal that they needed to be working now. When they couldn't help him breathe any more than his lungs could, his eyes bulged wide and he started twisting in his forced position, trying to spit but not managing to escape the flow of thick liquid passing over his face, filling his mouth and leaking into his nose. He was obviously trying to figure out how to expell it somehow, but he couldn't when there was just more and more coming. You kept him pinned a little longer, smirking. He spat up and gagged and swallowed and gasped, "S-Sol! Pl-pleagh--" You waited for his eyes to start turning glassy before you dropped his body and rolled him onto his side. He started coughing hard and wheezed, curling in on himself and tucking his knees to his chest. Feeling something that wasn't quite pity, you moved behind him, stroking his back, stroking his hair, reaching up and untying his wrists. He curled those to his chest, too, and he simply lay there, panting and gasping.

You sat there for a while, comforting him as he regained his breath. Once he did, you let the other troll settle back onto his back, then leaned over him and kissed him almost gently. By almost gently, you mean you pierced two neat holes into his lower lip when he tried to nip you. The fresh tang of cool aquatic blood was like a drug, but you pulled back when he didn't grab for you. "Thatithfied?" Eridan scoffed.

"I wwon't be satisfied until you're the one full'a genetic material."

You patted his side. "Not going to happen, nookthniffer."

The purple blood bared his needle-sharp teeth in an overly confident grin, and his hands flashed up to your throat, and before you could react, your head was slamming into the floor and you couldn't breathe. Your vision tripled and when you tried to shoot him off of you, a honeycomb nearby exploded. Fuck. You never had been very good at controlling your powers after a head injury, and Eridan looked obnoxiously pleased with himself for figuring that out.

"Tell me I wwon, Sol, an' I'll let you go." As your sight blurred and his fingers tightened around your throat, you realized he wasn't going to let go until you passed out. Black crawled into the edges of your vision and you reached up to claw him, but he snagged your wrists without even making a visible effort and pinned them above your head.

Your chest heaved one last time and everything started to fade. He leaned down and kissed you with an almost triumphantly condescending gentleness. You felt him pull back, and right before unconsciousness claimed your mind, you mouthed two words.

"Fuck you."