‘NNN’, Before the Wedding: All LADS LI’s
Synopsis: You and the boys are in a polyamorous relationship. You put in a challenge a whole month before your wedding. ‘No Nut November’. How does your wedding night go? Guess.
Warnings: Poly Relationship (li x li, li x reader), Smut, DP, Breeding, Li x Li, oral (f&m), Orgasm denial, overstimulation, anal, spit-roasting, Eiffel Tower, doggy, choking.
A/N: THIS WAS A COMMISSION AND THIS PERSON HAS A BEAUTIFUL MIND MWAH
Having 5 beautiful men, well fiancés, is no easy feat. Trying to keep them all entertained was a struggle at times. Your wedding was a month away and wedding preparations were well underway.
But you wanted to make your wedding night that much more special.
The penthouse buzzes with playful tension as you stand there, grinning at your bewildered boyfriends. The marker and whiteboard behind you spell out words that make all the males groan in unison.
Rafayel dramatically flops back against Xavier, who barely stirs, still half-asleep. Sylus swirls his drink, amused, while Caleb rubs his temples like he's already regretting everything. Zayne just stares at you over his glasses, completely deadpan.
"You can't be serious," Rafayel whines, flopping an arm over his face. "Thirty days? That's inhumane.”
Sylus chuckles, tossing back his drink. "Oh, I'm definitely winning this."
Zayne sighs, adjusting his glasses. "You do realize this is statistically improbable, right? Especially with him around." He nods toward Rafayel, who gasps in offense.
Xavier finally blinks awake, rubbing his eyes. "...Wait. Did you say no nut?"
Caleb groans, sinking into the couch. "I already hate this."
You grin, arms crossed. "Betting pool starts now. Who's cracking first?"
Rafayel points accusingly at Sylus. "Him. Absolutely him."
Sylus smirks. "Sweetheart, I have self-control. Unlike someone who cried when he couldn't eat sushi for a week."
Rafayel gasps. "That was tragedy—"
Zayne interrupts flatly. "Xavier's going to lose in three days."
Xavier blinks. "...I feel attacked."
You laugh, delighted by the chaos. "Gentlemen... may the worst willpower win."
You pull out a scroll of parchment paper with exaggerated flourish. Rafayel snorts when he sees you've even tied a red ribbon around it and dramatically unroll your list of rules.
1. No Orgasms.
Self-explanatory. Fail = instant shame.
2. No Touching Each Other.
This includes: "accidental" sleepy cuddles, "friendly" shoulder squeezes, "just checking if you're warm" hand-holding, and ESPECIALLY Rafayel’s "I was just fixing his collar" excuses.
3. No Proxy Outlets.
Cold showers only. No "training sessions" with Caleb that mysteriously last three hours. Zayne, no "research" on stamina enhancement. Sylus, no "stress-relief workouts."
4. The Punishment.
Whoever breaks first has to cook AND clean for everyone for a week... wearing nothing but an apron.
Rafayel clutches his chest like he’s been shot. "This is targeted harassment."
Zayne adjusts his glasses. "Rule number two is... excessive."
Sylus grins, leaning forward. "So if you touch us—"
You waggle your finger. "Nice try. I’m the referee. I can do whatever I want."
Xavier, finally awake, squints at the rules. "...What if someone dreams about it?"
Caleb buries his face in his hands. "We’re doomed."
Rafayel flops onto the floor dramatically. "Just end me now."
You roll the scroll back up with a smirk. "Game on, boys."
The first week of "No Nut November" is equal parts hilarious and excruciating.
Sylus and Zayne have thrown themselves into their work, trying to distract themselves with anything and everything to avoid breaking. You can practically feel the frustration radiating off of them at times, Zayne's fingers tapping incessantly on his desk while Sylus paces around like a caged lion.
Xavier's been walking around like a zombie, running on caffeine and sheer willpower. The poor guy's exhausted, yet refuses to admit he's struggling.
Rafayel, on the other hand, is not handling it well.
"I miss skin," he whimpers dramatically as you walk by, draped over the back of the couch like a wilting flower. "I miss human touch. Why is the universe so cruel?"
You pat his head sympathetically. "Only 21 more days."
"Twenty-one days too many." He groans, then narrows his eyes at you. "You're far too cheerful right now. It's suspicious."
As Caleb saunters in, sweat trickling down his forehead and arms, Rafayel's gaze immediately tracks his movements with unabashed appreciation. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head as Caleb strips off his sweaty shirt, revealing a toned, chiseled physique.
You hide a smirk, watching as Rafayel's tongue practically lolls out. He visibly swallows, eyes glued to Caleb's sweat-drenched skin. It's a bit comical, honestly.
"He's literally glistening..." Rafayel whispers reverently, staring unabashedly at the way Caleb's muscles flex as he towel-dries his hair.
Sylus, sitting nearby, rolls his eyes. "Stop drooling over him. You look desperate."
Zayne looks up from his book, arching an eyebrow. "That's because he is."
Xavier, still looking like a sleep-deprived zombie, just groans, burying his face in the couch pillows.
Rafayel vs. Caleb - The First Almost-Casualties
By Day 8, Rafayel is a walking disaster. He’s taken to dramatically sighing every time Caleb walks into the room, muttering things like “This is torture” and “Why must the gods test me?” under his breath.
The near-break happens when Caleb—completely oblivious—stretches after a workout, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal that delicious V-line. Rafayel makes a sound like a dying seagull and lunges for a throw pillow to hide his face in, groaning, “I can’t—this is inhumane—”
Meanwhile, Zayne, who’s been a stoic pillar of self-control, almost snaps when Sylus—absolutely on purpose—leans over him to “adjust the thermostat,” his chest brushing against Zayne’s back. Zayne goes rigid, his grip on his book turning deadly.
Sylus smirks. “Problem, doctor?”
Zayne grits his teeth. “You’re a menace.”
Sylus just winks. And that’s when Zayne slams his book shut and storms out of the room like a man on the verge of committing crimes.
You cackle from your referee perch. “Two almost-fails in one day?! This is getting good.”
Rafayel, still facedown in the pillow whines. “I hate everything.”
By Week 2, the penthouse has turned into a battlefield of strategic weakness exploitation.
Sylus takes the offensive first. He casually struts around shirtless while making breakfast, humming under his breath as he just so happens to bend over right in Zayne’s line of sight. Zayne’s grip on his coffee cup turns white-knuckled, his expression grim as he stares resolutely at the wall like a monk in meditation.
"You're pathetic," Zayne mutters.
Sylus grins, flipping a pancake. "And yet you're still looking."
Meanwhile, Rafayel, who has no dignity left to lose, decides if he's suffering, everyone should suffer. He starts leaving his paint-stained shirts strategically draped over furniture, knowing full well Caleb’s weakness for "artist dishevelment." Caleb walks into the living room, freezes at the sight, and immediately does a military-precision about-face, marching straight back out the door.
Rafayel cackles. "HA! That’s karma, you Adonis-shaped menace!"
Not to be outdone, Xavier, who’s been quiet this whole time, casually starts napping everywhere, knowing his sleepy, rumpled warmth is a universal weak spot. Sylus walks in on Zayne physically dragging a half-asleep Xavier off his lap like a man handling a radioactive hazard.
Zayne grunts out in a strained voice. “You're enabling him."
Sylus just clicks his tongue while grinning. "No, I'm applauding him."
You, keeping score on a whiteboard: "Current Fail Attempts: Sylus - 4, Rafayel - 3, Xavier - 2, Zayne - 1, Caleb - somehow still holding strong like a goddamn Spartan."
Caleb chuckles from the doorway. “I’m a soldier. She was my childhood crush, I’ve been doing this shit for years. You amateurs breathe and lose focus."
The competitive glares in response could melt steel.
Game on.
As December loomed closer, the penthouse transformed into a chaotic blend of wedding planning and desperate restraint. You, the diabolical mastermind, had planned it this way all along.
Every time someone almost broke during No Nut November, you’d sweetly remind them: “Imagine how much better it’ll be on our wedding night if you hold out.”
Sylus groaned into his hands. “You evil, evil woman.”
Zayne, gripping his pen like a lifeline while reviewing seating charts: “This is psychological warfare.”
Raf kept “accidentally” modeling potential wedding outfits with deep V-necks, lounging around like a romance novel cover. Caleb once walked in, took one look, and immediately turned around to do push-ups in the hallway.
Xavier, the sleepy menace, started napping in everyone’s beds, knowing full well his warmth and unconscious cuddling were lethal weapons. Zayne once woke up with Xavier half-draped over him and threw himself off the mattress like it was on fire.
Sylus, ever the opportunist, took up baking, shirtless, of course, just to watch Zayne’s jaw clench every time he licked frosting off his fingers.
Caleb, the last bastion of discipline, started falling deeper in his Colonel duties. But you once caught him running his fingers through Xavier’s hair while the blonde man napped in his lap. You let that one slide.
Finally. FINALLY, the day of the wedding came. You were almost tired of being surrounded by such pent up testosterone.
The ceremony is held under a canopy of twinkling fairy lights and winter stars, the air crisp with December’s chill but warmed by the sheer radiance of the moment. The penthouse terrace has been transformed.
It is now an arch draped in ivy and silver, snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky like nature itself blessing the union.
And then there’s you.
Dressed in a gown that seems spun from moonlight itself. The delicate lace hugging every curve, a trail of satin whispering against the frost-kissed ground. Your hair is a cascade of soft waves, dotted with tiny crystal pins that catch the light every time you move. But it’s your smile that steals the show. It’s luminous, triumphant, so full of love it makes Sylus’ breath hitch, Zayne’s throat tighten, Caleb’s fists clench at his sides.
Rafayel, standing at the altar with the others, lets out a strangled noise. “Oh, this is unfair.”
Xavier, blinking rapidly, mutters. “We were supposed to last?”
And then you walk toward them, each step deliberate, each glance a spark that threatens to incinerate what little resolve they have left.
Sylus goes first with his vow, taking your hands with a rare display of vulnerability. He speaks of home, of how he found it not in a place but in you. The warmth of your smile, the light in your laugh, the quiet bravery you bring to his storms. He vows to protect you, cherish you, be your rock in the darkest night.
Zayne takes your other hand, his fingers trembling. He speaks of trust, how you've seen his flaws and chosen him anyway, how your patience has mended his jagged edges. He promises to always be your sanctuary
One by one, they step forward, their voices thick with emotion under the winter stars.
Sylus grips your hands like he’s memorizing their shape, his usual smirk softened into something unbearably tender. “I spent my life building walls,” he admits, thumb brushing your knuckles. “Then you walked in like sunlight through broken glass. Reckless, beautiful, impossible to stop. I vow to be your shelter, but never your cage. To fight for you, not against you. And—” he kissed the back of your knuckles without breaking eye contact. “To make sure you never regret choosing this idiot over a normal, sane relationship.”
The others groan. You laugh through tears.
Zayne steps up next, his glasses catching the twinkle of fairy lights as he cups your face “You… are the exception to every rule I’ve ever set,” he whispers, so quiet only you hear it. “My logic, my protocols, none of it survived you. I vow to keep choosing you, even when it’s illogical. Even when it’s messy. Even when….” His gaze flicks to the others, then back to you, “—even when I have to share your chaos with these disasters.”
Rafayel practically flings himself into the vows, hands fluttering like excited butterflies. “Darling, muse, love of my existence. You turned my entire world into color,” he declares, gesturing wildly. “I vow to drown you in affection every day! To paint your laughter into every masterpiece! To—” He pauses, suddenly serious. “To try not being jealous when you kiss Caleb more than me. Try.”
Caleb facepalms. Sylus mouths the word “Pathetic.”
Xavier is next, his sleepy eyes shimmering as he lifts your hand to his lips. “I… didn’t think I’d get to keep anything this good,” he admits, voice rough with not tiredness but vulnerability. “But you held on. Even when I forgot how to. I vow to be here through the worst of it. To never let you walk this path alone.”
When Caleb steps forward, the air itself seems to still. His usual disciplined composure fraying at the edges as he takes your hands in his, calloused palms warm against your skin. Every word strikes like a hammer on steel.
"I spent my life following orders. Training my body, my mind, to be a weapon." His thumbs trace your knuckles, grounding himself. "Then you...you disarmed me. Without a single battle. Just by existing."
The others are silent, even Rafayel.
"I vow to be your shield. To deserve the way you look at me. To wake up every damn day and choose you. Not because I have to, but because I can't imagine anything else."
"But most of all..." Caleb lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm, slow and deliberate. "I vow to make sure you never forget you're the strongest damn thing in this room."
You're definitely crying now. Zayne hands you a tissue without looking, his own eyes suspiciously bright.
Rafayel fake-sobs into Xavier's shoulder. "I can't believe the emotionally constipated soldier just gave the best vows!”
Caleb elbows him. The ceremony continues.
Finally, December 1st arrives.
Wedding night victory has never tasted so sweet.
You'd chosen a secluded, private island villa for your honeymoon. It’s all white sand beaches, crystal-clear waters, and a luxurious suite with far too many surfaces perfect for sinful activities. But getting there? Is pure chaos.
Sylus books a private jet and spends the entire flight with his jaw clenched, fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest as he stares at you like a man counting down the seconds on a bomb.
Zayne had meticulously planned every detail of the trip, but even he loses his composure when you casually stretch in your seat, the hem of your dress riding up just enough to make his pen snap in half mid-sentence.
Rafayel whines the entire time, flopping against you dramatically. "Why isn’t travel time a thing? This is cruelty. We should’ve just teleported."
Xavier dozes off. Until you rest your head on his shoulder, your perfume teasing his senses. He jerks awake with a gasp, eyes wide and very alert.
The second the jet lands, it’s a blur of movement. The suitcases are abandoned, doors flung open, and a near-stampede toward the villa.
Sylus sweeps you off your feet before you can even react, tossing you over his shoulder as he books it down the beach. "No more waiting," he growls.
Zayne is right behind him, adjusting his glasses with one hand and yanking Sylus back by the collar with the other. "Put. Her. Down. We agreed on orderly—"
Rafayel shrieks, sprinting past them both. "VILLA FIRST, FIGHT LATER!"
Xavier, somehow already inside the villa, peers out from the doorway. "...Did I win?"
After a mad dash into the villa, suitcases thrown like grenades, clothes flung like battle flags, you find yourself sprawled on your back, the bed dipping beside you. Sylus climbs over you, pinning you against the mattress with a smirk.
He leans close, breath warm against your ear. "My turn."
Before you can protest, however, Rafayel pounces from the door, tackling Sylus and rolling them both off the bed.
"NO. I called dibs on first at the altar!"
Sylus hits the floor with a thud, snarling. "DIBS AREN'T REAL!”
Caleb doesn’t wait for the brawl to resolve. In one smooth motion, he flips you onto your knees, grips your hips, and-
…Zayne yanks him back by the collar. "Medical advisement: slow down." His glasses gleam ominously. "She’s not a battlefield."
Xavier, meanwhile, has already seized the opportunity to slide between your thighs from the other side of the bed, his sleepy grin sharpening as he ducks down—
—and wins.
His tongue drags through you in one devastating stripe before anyone can stop him, his groan vibrating against your skin. His long fingers had slipped your panties to the side like a magic trick. "Told you... I'd be first..."
Xavier's mouth seals over you with a satisfied hum, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes. It’s like he's savoring the taste after weeks of denial. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he laps at you with unhurried precision, his eyelashes fluttering shut. He's relishing every shudder you give him.
Rafayel, whining in protest, tries to shove Xavier's head away, only for Caleb to grab his wrist mid-reach. "You lost," Caleb growls. Then he yanks Rafayel into a bruising kiss, swallowing his complaints as his free hand fists in Rafayel's hair.
Sylus, watching with dark amusement, slides a hand up Zayne's thigh. "Doctor," he murmurs, lips grazing Zayne's jaw, "-you look... tense."
Before the dark haired man can retort, Sylus palms him through his slacks, grinning against his throat. "Let me help."
You arch off the bed, Xavier's tongue curling just right as Caleb pins Rafayel against the headboard, as Sylus undoes Zayne’s belt with his teeth.
There is asymphony of gasps, groans, and finally, finally unraveled restraint.
No Nut November was just the prelude.
December is for feasting.
Caleb flips Rafayel onto his stomach with a practiced grip, spreading him wide with rough hands. When his tongue swipes over Rafayel’s tight, fluttering entrance, the artist screeches, fingers clawing at the sheets.
“C-Caleb—ohmygod—!”
Caleb growls against him, tongue pressing inside with relentless demand, one hand pinning Rafayel’s hips down while the other strokes him in brutal tandem. Rafayel sobs, thighs trembling, his curses dissolving into breathless moans.
Meanwhile, Sylus drops to his knees before Zayne with a wicked smirk, taking him down his throat in one smooth slide. Zayne’s composure cracks, his head thuds back against the wall, a ragged “Sylus—” tearing from his lips as the red eyed man swallows him deep, hollowing his cheeks with precision.
Xavier grins against your dripping cunt, fingers replacing his tongue as he lifts his head for a split second. He licks his wet lips clean with a moan.
“Told you… patience pays off.”
Then he licks a stripe up your clit just as Caleb bites Rafayel’s ass cheek, just as Sylus gags on Zayne’s dick.
Chaos. Glory. Victory.
Rafayel shatters firsts. His body bowing off the bed as Caleb’s tongue drills into him, his cock pulsing against the sheets where Caleb had let him rut instead. "I—I’m—!" His voice cracks, eyes rolling back as he spills with a choked sob, shaking like a leaf in a storm.
Zayne follows almost instantly. Sylus’ throat is working around him in greedy swallows pushes him over the edge. His hips jerk erratically as he floods Sylus’ mouth. The white haired man takes deep gulps, only pulling off when he’s positive there isn’t a drop left.
You come next. In more ways than one. Xavier’s fingers are curling just so inside you while his tongue flicks your clit. It sends you spiraling. Your back arches off the mattress, thighs clamping around his head as you cry out.
Xavier pulls back with a smug, drenched grin. "Still... first."
Sylus groans around Zayne’s softening cock, palming himself through his black dress pants. Caleb yanks him up by the collar and crush their mouths together, sharing the taste of Zayne between them.
Sylus growls, rutting against Caleb’s thigh like a man possessed until he spills with a vicious curse, biting Caleb’s lip hard enough to draw blood. The front of his slack are stained with cum but he couldn’t give two shits.
Caleb lasts the longest, always the soldier. Always in control. When you lock eyes with him, your fingers beckoning him closer, his restraint snaps. He fucks into your waiting hand with a guttural groan, his release hot and heavy over your fingers, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a shudder.
It’s so heavy and throbbing in your hand. Painting your fresh red manicure white instead.
Xavier, still lazily tracing circles on your oversensitive clit, sighs. "Told you... I’d win."
With everyone still riding the aftershocks of their orgasms, the competitive fire reignites. This time it’s over who gets to be first inside you.
Sylus wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. "Age before beauty."
Zayne scoffs, adjusting his glasses which are still fogged from fucking Sylus’ throat. "That logic is flawed. Medical expertise should—"
Rafayel whines, laying on the bed beside you. "But I'm the prettiest! Shouldn’t I—"
Xavier pokes his head up with soft blue eyes. "...Rock paper scissors?"
The room fills with a quietness besides Xavier playing around with your wet pussy.
"Fuck it."
They scramble into a circle, elbows knocking, eyes narrowed.
Round 1: Sylus (rock) vs. Zayne (scissors) vs. Rafayel (paper) vs. Xavier (scissors) vs. Caleb (rock).
Eliminated: Zayne and Xavier glare as their scissors are crushed by twin rocks.
Round 2: Sylus (paper) vs. Rafayel (scissors) vs. Caleb (rock).
Eliminated: Sylus curses as Rafayel’s scissors cut his paper.
Final Round: Rafayel (rock) vs. Caleb (paper).
Winner: Caleb smirks as his paper wraps Rafayel’s rock.
Rafayel wails. "This is rigged!!"
Caleb doesn’t waste time. He rolls you onto your hands and knees, his grip possessive on your hips. "I gotcha Pips." he growls.
Caleb sinks into you with a groan, his thick cock stretching you perfectly. Slow at first, savoring the way your body clenches around him. The others don’t waste a second settling around you, watching with rapt attention as your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering shut.
Sylus chuckles darkly, dragging a finger through the drool spilling from your lips. "Poor thing," he chuckles. "Already fucked stupid and he’s barely started."
Zayne, ever the observer, tilts your chin up with two fingers, studying your dazed expression. "Fascinating. Pupils dilated, speech impaired. All classic symptoms of overstimulation." His thumb presses down on your tongue. "Should we stop?"
You whimper around his touch, hips jerking back against Caleb. ‘No, no, don’t stop!’ Which earns a chorus of laughter.
Rafayel sprawls beside you, propping his chin on his hand with a grin. "Oh, she’s ruined. Slutty lil’ thing! Begging without even speaking. And Caleb’s barely broken a sweat!" He leans in, licking a stripe up your neck. "Sooo pathetic."
Xavier is still stroking his leaky cock right against your cheek. "Told you she’d fall apart fast."
Caleb’s grip tightens, his thrusts turning punishing as you writhe, oversensitive and desperate. Your moans pitch higher, syllables slurring into pleading nonsense.
“Please, more, yes, don’t stop!” Until Sylus shakes his head, brushing your tears away.
"Awww, Kitten. You think he’s gonna let you cum that easy?"
Caleb slows to a deep grind, his smirk brutal as you sob.
The others watch.
You, are completely gone.
Gone. A drooling, shaking, cock-drunk mess. Just how they like you.
Caleb finally pulls out with a wet pop, leaving you twitching and desperate. But before you can even catch your breath, the others descend like starving men at a banquet.
Rafayel is the first to claim your lips, kissing you deeply as if to swallow every one of your whimpering breaths.
His slender fingers tangle in your hair, holding you in place as his tongue explores your mouth. “Taste shooo good~!” he moans against your lip.
At the same time, Sylus guides your trembling hand to his throbbing length, his smirk turning into a sharp gasp as your fingers wrap around him. "Fuckkkk yes, just like that," he groans, hips jerking into your grip.
Meanwhile, Xavier wastes no time pressing into your other hand, his breath hot against your ear as he grinds into your palm. "You’re doing so good," he murmurs, teeth grazing your earlobe. "Taking us all so well."
But the real assault comes when Zayne spreads your thighs wider. His cool, clinical gaze burning with sudden hunger. His hands spread your ass cheeks, watching the foaming ring you leave around Caleb’s cock.
Rafayel whines against your mouth, "Bastards. Fuckin’ hogging you.”
Sylus chuckles darkly, tightening your fingers around him. "Don’t worry, princess. We’re not leaving you unsatisfied."
And true to his word, they don’t.
The moment Zayne’s fingers press against your clenched rim, your entire body locks up, a high-pitched whine tearing from your throat. Tears spill freely as you shake your head frantically, overstimulated and trembling.
"N-no—too much! Zaynie, please—"
But the others are merciless.
Rafayel instantly crowds behind Zayne, pressing kisses along the doctor’s shoulder blades as his hands smooth down your trembling thighs. "Shhh, darling, you can take it," he purrs, lips brushing your ear. "How many times have we stuffed these holes? Who was the one who starved of us each other?"
Sylus grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him as his thumb swipes away your tears. "C’mon, Kitten. You love this," he growls, voice thick with lust. "Love being stuffed full, love being ours."
Meanwhile, Xavier, ever the quiet tactician, presses a slicked finger alongside Zayne’s cock. He’s rubbing slow, teasing circles against your tight ring. "Let me help," he whispered, watching your face for any signs of pain. "Just like that. Good girl."
Zayne finally takes initiative as Xavier strokes a handful of lube over his aching cock. The doctor presses in slowly, his hips flush against yours. It takes a couple of seconds to work your tight hole open. Zayne has to close his eyes so he doesn’t blow his load at both of your leaky holes pressed wide.
Your sob is shattering, holes convulsing around him. But then Caleb is there, his calloused palm stroking your hair as he kisses your temple.
"Our brave girl" he rumbles, pride and hunger mingling in his voice. "Taking every inch. Perfect."
As Zayne finally settles deep in your guts, your scream melts into a broken moan. Because god, you feel so stuffed.
Every hole.
Every gasp.
Every shudder.
Is alllll theirs.
Zayne and Caleb move in a tandem, synchronized rhythm.
Zayne's thrusts are deep and measured, Caleb's are sharp and punishing, until you're nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess between them.
Every drag of their cocks sends electric shocks of pleasure up your spine, your drool pooling on Caleb’s shoulder as you straddle him.
"What’s wrong Princess? Can’t think anymore?" Zayne buries his face into your hair. "You are the one who wanted that idiotic challenge. The least you can do is be a pretty, compliant hole for us.”
Caleb growls in agreement, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Sloppy holes, she’s fucking ruined."
Sylus and Xavier exchange a look over Rafayel’s squirming form. The purple haired artist is still pouting, as he has been the entire ‘NNN’.
"Someone," Sylus drawls, cracking his neck to the side, "-needs to learn some manners."
Rafayel’s eyes widen. "W-Wait—!"
Too late.
Xavier pins him face-down with ease, while Sylus flips up the artist’s frilly shirt, delivering a sharp SMACK to his bare ass. Rafayel shrieks, legs kicking uselessly.
"You whined," Xavier muses, tracing idle circles on Rafayel’s lower back. "Complained. Interrupted."
"And now," Sylus purrs, landing another slap, "-you get to watch while we take turns with her first."
Rafayel wails into the mattress, his cock leaking pathetically beneath him. "CRUEL—THIS IS CRUEL—"
Sylus smirks. "Say please."
You are too fucked-out to do anything but take it, your body jerks between Zayne and Caleb like a ragdoll. Until they finally let you crumble into blissful, shattered oblivion.
And Rafayel….is still begging.
With a final, stinging SMACK that leaves Rafayel's ass flushed and trembling, Sylus grips his hips and yanks him back—
"S-Sy—!!"
—and buries himself inside Rafayel’s tight, fluttering heat.
Rafayel’s scream is pitchy, back arching like a bowstring as Sylus pushes inside, his cock stretching him wide. "F-fuckkk—! S’too muchhh—!"
Sylus leans over him, breath hot against Rafayel’s ear as he grinds deep, savoring the way Rafayel shudders beneath him. "Should’ve behaved," he taunts, rocking into him with slow, sadistic precision. "Now, you can have allll the cock you want."
Xavier settles between Rafayel’s thighs, his lips wrapping around Rafayel’s leaking cock without warning.
Rafayel chokes, hips jerking as Xavier swallows him down to the hilt, his tongue swirling in wicked, practiced strokes. "X-XAV—! Ngh—!"
Sylus chuckles and pick up his pace. Each snap of his hips punches pitched moans from Rafayel’s mouth. "Nothing ever changes," he scoffs, dragging a hand up Rafayel’s spine. "Whining, begging...just like he always does."
Xavier hums in agreement, the vibration wringing a broken sob from Rafayel. Xavier pulls off until just the swollen and leaky head is propped against his swollen lips.
"Say thank you."
Rafayel’s eyes roll back, tears streaking his flushed cheeks as he bucks between them, overwhelmed and ruined. "Th-thank you—! P-puhleaseeeshhh—!"
Sylus laughs, slamming into him harder. "Good boy."
And as Rafayel shatters between them, his orgasm ripped from him with a scream. You (albeit cross-eyed from pleasure at this point), Zayne, and Caleb watch from the bed, thoroughly entertained.
Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his precision dissolving into a feral behavior. He gyrates into you with a broken groan. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he release spurts of glossy seed inside of your ass.
"S’tight. Mm there we go," he snarls, hips jerking through the aftershocks. “Gooood girl.”
But Caleb isn’t far behind.
With a final snap of his hips, he grinds into your sweet cunt, his rhythm stuttering as his orgasm crashes over him.
His growl is raw against your back, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he floods you, his cum mixing with Zayne’s as it slides out of both holes.
"Fuckkkk, take it," Caleb rumbles, voice rough with satisfaction. "Every drop."
Your climax hits like a storm, your cunt clenching around Caleb’s cock as you sob his name, your body arching off of Zayne’s chest. You are now drenched in sweat, tears, and them.
Rafayel, still pinned beneath Sylus and Xavier, whimpers at the sight. "S-So mean... leaving me out!”
Sylus laughs, lazily thrusting into him. "Should’ve waited your turn, brat."
And as the room fills with the sounds of panting breaths and stifled moans, Xavier presses a kiss to Rafayel’s trembling hip bone. “Next time," he murmurs, "be patient."
But next time feels far away.
Right now, you’re full.
By the time Sylus, Xavier, and Rafayel finally get their turn, you're already ruined. Your legs are trembling, holes still dripping with Zayne and Caleb’s seed. Your entire body oversensitive and twitching at the slightest touch.
And yet, you still whine.
"N-No—s’too much!” you sob, squirming pathetically as Sylus drags you onto his lap, his cock pressing against your overfilled pussy.
"Oh? Thought you wanted us," Sylus purrs, gripping your hips as he shoves inside, stretching you deliciously around him. "Take what you’ve earned Kitten.
Rafayel immediately shoves his cock past your lips, silencing your complaints with a groan. "No more talking, darling. Just sucking," he sighs, fingers tangling in your hair.
Xavier just smirks, pressing a slicked finger against your abused back rim before pushing in alongside Sylus.
You screech around Rafayel’s cock, your entire body convulsing as Xavier fills your ass, his slow, torturous thrusts making your vision blur.
"She’s dripping," Sylus growls, grinding up into you. "She loves it."
Rafayel pulls back just enough to let you gasp for air, before shoving right back in. Your cheeks bugle with his thickness. You gag, fingers digging into Sylus’s chest. "Such a good girl for us," he coos. "Taking all of us like this."
Xavier hums, pressing a kiss to your spine as he fucks into you deep. "Perfect."
You are a whimpering, cock-drunk mess, just how they like you.
You’re a shuddering, dripping mess between them, holes stuffed full, hands barely able to keep a grip on Zayne and Caleb as they press against your palms. They are demanding attention even while the other three wreck you. Your whimpers are muffled around Rafayel’s cock, drool pooling down your chin as he sighs in faux sympathy.
"Aw, baby," Rafayel coos, petting your hair as he thrusts shallowly into your throat. "You’re wasting it."
Sylus groans as your pussy clenches around him, his fingers digging bruises into your hips. "That’s it, squeeze me just like that," he growls. "I’m going to fill you up so good."
Xavier presses a kiss between your shoulder blades as he fucks into your ass with slow, sadistic rolls. "Almost there," he murmurs, voice rough. "Hold on a little longer."
Zayne and Caleb watch shallow breaths as your weak fingers stroke them. Your grip is faltering, your movements sloppy, but trying so hard to please them anyway.
Caleb groans deep as your hand tightens just slightly around him. "Greedy little thing," he rumbles. "Wants everything at once."
They all lose control.
Sylus groans, hips stuttering as he spills inside you, his cum mixing with Caleb’s from earlier. "Dirty Kitten, take all of your milk," he snarls, grinding deep.
Rafayel whimpers, his fingers tightening in your hair as he comes down your throat, forcing you to swallow every last drop. "S-Such a good girl—!"
Xavier buries himself to your deepest part with a shudder, filling your ass.
You finally, finally collapse.
In an instant, strong arms catch you, lowering you gently onto the bed.
Garbled, murmured voices of your loves echo around you. But all you can think is, ‘God, that was good.’
One of the others hums. "She’s completely out of it," comes a voice.
Another laughs softly. "Can’t say I'm surprised."
With you sprawled boneless across the sheets. You are glistening with sweat, dripping with their combined spend, utterly ruined. Rafayel lets out a breathless laugh, his painter’s eyes alight with inspiration.
"One last stroke," he murmurs, his fingers trailing down Caleb’s abdomen before wrapping around him, coaxing him back to hardness with a few flicks of his wrist. "Our bride deserves a proper finishing touch."
Zayne, still catching his breath, arches a brow. He’s doesn’t protest when Sylus fists him through the aftershocks, his smirk wicked. "Think she can even feel it at this point?"
Xavier, ever the pragmatist, simply takes himself in hand, his gaze locked on your blissed-out expression. "Doesn’t matter," he slurs. "She’ll wear it either way."
And so—
They paint you.
Rafayel’s groan is filthy as Caleb fists his hair, using him like a brush to smear stripes of cum across your thighs. Sylus bites Zayne’s shoulder when he spills over your stomach, muttering a- "Fuck, look at her," like a prayer. Xavier, ever precise, traces claiming lines down your collarbones with his release, marking you as theirs.
When they’re done, Rafayel collapses beside you, panting, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Masterpiece.” he sighs all smug.
Zayne snorts, but his thumb brushes your cheek. He’s so gentle, despite it all. "Rest, darling."
And as your eyelids flutter shut, Caleb’s voice curls around you.
"We’re never letting you go."
The moment the last shudders of pleasure fade, their demeanor shifts instantly. They are warmer and softer, the sharp edges of lust melting into a tender care as they gather you between them.
Rafayel is the first to press a kiss to your forehead, murmuring praises as he wipes you down with a damp cloth, his touch feather-light. "So perfect for us," he sighs, cleaning the mess from your thighs with an artist's care. "Our beautiful, beautiful girl."
Sylus lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to the bath. The water is already drawn, scented with lavender. He sinks into the warmth with you, his arms a secure anchor as he massages the tension from your shoulders. "Breathe, sweetheart," he rumbles. "We've got you."
Zayne kneels beside the tub, pressing a glass of water to your lips with one hand while the other checks your pulse. He’s ever the physician, even now. "Small sips," he orders. His thumb brushes away a stray tear. "You did so well."
Xavier drapes a robe over your shoulders the moment you're lifted from the water, toweling you dry with methodical gentleness. "No more tonight," he murmurs, tucking your damp hair behind your ear. "Just rest."
Caleb is the last to approach. He’s lifting your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, his usual roughness absent. "Proud of you." he says, gruff but sincere, before bundling you into bed.
They surround you then. It’s a tangle of limbs and whispered affections, Rafayel runs his fingertips across your spine, Sylus is nuzzling into your hair, Zayne’s steady heartbeat is under your ear. Caleb is massaging out any tense muscles in your legs and feet.
And as sleep pulls you under, their voices follow. You feel safe, loved and cherished.
"Always ours."
"Always yours."
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