Blood on the Sheets
✦ MDNI — 18+ Only ✦
✧ pairing: vampire!muke x reader
✧ summary: bound by a fated mating bond, you find yourself claimed in a fevered, blood-drenched threesome with two incredibly captivating, and competitive vampires, sealing yourselves together as mates for the rest of eternity
✧ warnings: MMF threesome, double penetration, oral sex (m and f receiving), blood play, biting, vampires, feeding during sex, rough sex, hair pulling, challengers moment cause i can’t help myself, overstimulation, slight degradation, praise
✧ word count: 5.4k (back to normal length fics, whew)
✧ title: blood on the sheets — violent vira
✧ author’s note: thank you to anon for requesting this filthy filthy fic. thank you to my dear @souperbloom for peer pressuring me into the challengers moment with quote “I’m an outfit repeater and also a trope repeater no shame in watching boys kiss a little”
also a huge thank you to my sweet little writing partner, you know who you are, your filthy brain keeps me going sometimes.
these vampires are based off of the mortal instruments series by cassandra clare and have a tiny bit of twilight influence (even though i’ve never read nor seen the movies LMAO)
hope this is what you wanted 🔮!!!
Copyright © 2025 undersugarnights. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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The streets are empty at this hour, but you move through the alley like you own it. Shoulders squared, chin high, you round a corner you’ve taken a hundred times and find yourself facing the same old nightclub.
Its neon sign burns a furious red, spilling eerie light across the brick. The glow has become almost comforting, like a wound you’ve learned to live with. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and head for the door.
The bouncer leans lazily against the frame, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his mouth. His eyes catch the glow and flash unnaturally bright. Too bright.
Vampire.
You pause, grinning back at him. He looks young—handsome in a rough way, tattoos crawling over tan skin, a streak of blond in his dark hair—but not the one you came here for.
Still, your blood stirs. He’s inside. You can feel him, the way the air sharpens before rain.
“You gonna let me in,” you drawl, folding your arms to mirror his, “or you planning to keep me waiting till sunrise?”
The guy hums, grin never slipping. “Doubt this is where you wanna be, sweetheart.” He drops his arms, stretching until his shirt rides up and flashes a strip of stomach. “Best get going.”
Your frown deepens, that pulse under your skin flaring again. He’s close—you can feel it. The breath you draw is pure habit, a relic of the life you left behind. You haven’t needed air since the night you were turned.
You flash a slow, devastating smile, letting your fangs slip free. His eyes catch them, and for the first time, his posture shifts—just a fraction, but enough.
“Surprised you don’t recognize your own kind,” you murmur, mock affection dripping like honey. “Or maybe you just don’t like me very much.”
He scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know you. Must be a young one.”
The laugh that escapes you is light, amused—too amused. You shake your head and step forward, and that second wave of recognition slams into you, stronger, searing down your spine until your irises flare red.
“Never as young as you,” you whisper, low and dangerous. “Tell me—who turned you? Is he inside? Is that why you’re out here posturing like you own the door?”
“I’m with the band, too.” His jaw tightens. “What do you want?”
You lean back, letting the pull ebb just enough to smile again, disarmingly bright. “My name’s Y/N,” you say, tone suddenly casual, friendly even. “And yours?”
His hesitation is quick but noticeable. His gaze flicks past you, then back. “Calum,” he mutters.
Your grin widens, satisfaction curling through you. “Calum,” you echo, savoring it. “I know who turned you. And I think I’m here for him, too.”
Surprise cuts across his face before he can mask it. His brows shoot up, and when he speaks, his voice is taut with disbelief.
“Did Luke turn you too?”
You smile, a pitying tilt of your lips as you shake your head. “Never that,” you murmur. “Now, are you gonna let me in, sweetheart? I think you’re starting to realize you shouldn’t fuck with me.”
Calum’s brief truce vanishes. His eyes darken, and with an irritated sigh, he finally steps aside. The path to the entrance opens, and you throw him one last taunting smile before slipping inside.
The music hits harder once you cross the threshold, bass thrumming through the floorboards. Bodies pack the room, pressed shoulder to shoulder—mostly vampires. But you spot the glazed-eyed humans too, their necks streaked with blood.
You huff, shaking your head at the sight. Humans chasing venom highs had become far too common, and the addiction was every bit as vicious as street drugs.
For vampires, human blood was little more than sustenance. The real high only came from drinking your mate’s blood—the bliss, the euphoria, the intimacy woven into it.
It’s said to be orgasmic. At least, that’s what you’ve heard.
The connection here is overwhelming, almost suffocating. Every cell in your body hums with awareness of his proximity—so sharp, so consuming it feels like you might combust from the inside out.
You don’t know how it began, not exactly. Months ago, you were just another shadow on the street, stalking your next meal, when the world suddenly tilted. You collapsed, your body convulsing under the weight of something unseen.
The only way you’ve ever been able to describe it is this: the desperate gulp of air after nearly drowning. Since that night, the pull beneath your skin has been relentless, dragging you across the city until it finally led you here—into the heart of a vampire club in downtown Los Angeles.
You push past bodies, slipping deeper into the venue. His energy is a live wire under your skin now, closer with every step. Excitement sparks through your veins, impossible to ignore.
From the corner of your eye, a flicker of movement—dirty blond hair, a laugh so rich it seems to vibrate through your chest. You snap your head toward it, heart leaping, blood running hot with anticipation.
But there’s nothing.
Clicking your tongue in disappointment, you turn, deciding maybe the bar will give you a better vantage point.
You barely pivot before slamming into someone’s chest. Strong hands fly to your arms, circling your biceps to steady you.
The pull rips through you violently, dragging a gasp from your lips as you blink up—and meet a pair of striking green eyes.
He towers over you, tall enough that you have to crane your neck just to hold his gaze. Bright, fire-engine red hair sticks out wildly beneath a backward snapback, and a black metal bar glints from his eyebrow.
His pupils blow wide. A strangled sound catches in his throat as his grip on you tightens. His lips—unnaturally pink, almost feverish—part around a stunned breath.
“Are you…” Your voice falters, dizzy just from standing this close. “Are you Luke?”
The guy blinks, taking a few seconds too long to respond. He shakes his head, seemingly at a loss for words. “Not Luke,” he says. “Michael.”
The name washes through you in a delicious shiver. You smirk, Michael still hasn’t let go of your arm.
“Hi Michael,” you purr. “I’m Y/N. And I think we have a lot to talk about.”
Michael snaps back to himself, tongue darting out to wet his lips before his hands slide down to your wrists. His fingers circle them tightly, almost possessive.
“So it really is you,” he says, a grin cracking across his face. “The one I keep feeling everywhere.”
You arch a teasing brow. “You’ve been feeling me?” you hum, leaning closer. If your heart still beat, it would be pounding.
“Everywhere I go,” he confirms, voice rough. “It’s like my fucking blood is screaming.”
The two of you push through the crowd, guided by that unbearable, magnetic need pulling tighter with every step. Every brush of Michael’s skin against yours is fire, and for the first time in months, a sense of relief washes over you.
Your search is over.
Just as you and Michael reach a secluded hallway, a figure peels away from the shadows. He looms—broad, imposing, a menacing silhouette framed by the pulsing red lights and bass-thick air.
But there’s no fear.
Only a pull. Stronger. Wilder. Twice as intense as before.
His eyes burn into the places where you’re still pressed against Michael, and your breath catches. Not from recognition—at least, not the visual kind. But something deeper. Older. Something etched into your very being.
When his eyes meet yours—blue, sharp, familiar—something inside you snaps tight. Then he looks at Michael, and his expression darkens.
“What the hell is this?” he asks, voice low and lethal as he pushes off the wall.
Dark blond hair curls under a snapback—another snapback; seriously, there must be a dress code—and his mouth is twisted into a frown, a black ring hugging his plush bottom lip.
Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh and raises an eyebrow. “Dude,” he scoffs, “you seriously couldn’t pick any other moment to interrupt?”
The pressure in your chest builds unbearably. It hits you all at once.
Michael is your mate.
So is he.
The blond’s jaw tightens. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I interrupt you trying to drag my mate into a back room?” His voice is frayed at the edges, barely containing the fury underneath. “Really, Mike—fuck off.”
“Who are you?” you ask, excitement prickling across your skin.
His attention shifts to you, and he blinks slowly. “You already know.”
Of course you do. The name had been whispered to you all day, a flash of blond hair at the edge of your vision. Luke. Your hand is still locked with Michael’s, the pull between you both only growing stronger.
“She’s my mate,” Michael snaps, chest puffing as he takes a step toward Luke. The air thickens, humming with tension, though the weight of it strikes you as more amusing than dangerous.
“Actually,” you cut in, and both of them turn toward you instantly. “I think you’re both mine.”
Michael scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. That’s never happened before.”
You shrug and pivot, your heels clicking against the floor. The door Michael had been leading you toward is only a few feet away. You sway your hips as you walk, knowing without looking that both men are trailing after you, begrudging and reluctant.
You twist the handle and push the door open, revealing a lounge tucked away from the noise. A small couch sits in the corner, and instruments—guitars and basses in a kaleidoscope of colors—line the wall.
“Luke, don’t fucking start,” Michael warns as he closes the door behind you. “You know I’ve been feeling her for months.”
You sink onto the couch, watching as Luke’s jaw clenches in irritation.
True, you’d only felt Michael’s presence for a few weeks. Still, it wasn’t surprising he’d sensed you lingering in the world, tethered to him.
A yawn slips from you, feigned or not, as you study the simmering tension between them. Luke is silent, arms crossed, his stare locked on you.
“You know what this is,” he finally says, voice low as he steps closer to Michael. “There’s no fucking way it’s both of us. You know it.”
A smirk tugs at your lips as a new thought blooms. “There’s always the option to fight it out,” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry purr.
Michael’s mouth opens, then he shakes his head. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters. He turns sharply to Luke, anger flaring. “Back the fuck off.”
Luke presses his tongue to his cheek, giving Michael an unimpressed look. “You’re starting a fight you know you’re gonna lose,” he says evenly. “I’ve felt her for years. Years. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
“Boys,” you snap, leaning forward, elbows braced against your knees. “This is starting to bore me. Sit.”
They exchange a tense look, neither moving for a long beat—until suddenly they’re scrambling for space beside you. Michael crashes down first, practically falling onto the couch, while Luke follows with far more grace.
Both are rigid, fury radiating off them in waves. The realization that you are the reason for it fills you with an intoxicating rush of power.
You turn to Michael, cupping his face in one hand, brushing your thumb along his cheek. With your other hand, you do the same to Luke.
“Kiss me,” you instruct.
Michael lunges fast, but you dodge just in time, lips curving. “Nuh-uh,” you whisper. “You don’t get that yet.”
Luke seems to understand. He lowers his mouth to your jaw, lips grazing the delicate skin there. Your eyes flutter closed at the scrape of his teeth, a shiver chasing down your spine.
Michael lets out a frustrated grunt but relents, dragging his tongue down the side of your neck before kissing the sensitive spot just behind your ear.
A soft moan escapes you, one hand tangling in Luke’s hair, the other gripping Michael’s thigh. The pull toward both of them thrums through you, dizzying, irresistible, burning you alive with want.
Luke pulls away with a growl, the sheer force of it setting the air between you alight. You blink at him, momentarily disoriented.
Then, without warning, he grabs Michael by the back of the neck and crashes their mouths together. A sharp gasp almost escapes you as you watch them collide.
Michael lets out a startled sound, but his hand rises instinctively to clutch Luke’s neck, and then he’s kissing him back. Their mouths move together sloppily, desperate, all teeth and need.
The bond surges through you, electric, and you press your thighs together against the ache. Your smirk grows as you watch Luke’s ringed fingers tear Michael’s hat off and fling it aside, tangling deep in his fiery red hair.
When Luke finally breaks away, his lips are swollen, breath ragged. Michael is left staring, stunned into silence.
That’s when Luke strikes again. He turns sharply, catching your mouth with his in a bruising kiss. One hand snakes down, sliding between your thighs, patting once before moving higher.
When his fingers brush the wet heat of your panties, a moan spills against his lips.
“You fucking asshole,” Michael hisses, dropping off the couch to his knees before the two of you.
You feel Luke smirk against your mouth. “May the best man win.”
Michael’s answering growl is the only warning before he’s prying your legs apart. Luke shifts your panties aside, a finger sliding through your soaked folds.
You moan into his mouth, fists clutching at his shirt, while Michael’s lips trace soft kisses up the inside of your thighs.
Luke pushes a finger inside you, curling it just right until your vision whites out—at the same moment Michael sinks his teeth into your thigh.
Euphoria detonates, the sharp pain of the bite blooming into raw pleasure. Your back arches, and Luke’s free hand clamps around your jaw, holding you still as his tongue teases along your bottom lip.
By the time Michael retracts his fangs, you’re already floating. Blood drips down your leg, staining the couch. Michael moans, his entire body shuddering at the taste. His hands slide beneath your skirt, hooking the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs.
Cool air rushes over you, and you moan against Luke’s mouth. The slick sound of his fingers working inside you grows louder as he slips in a second.
Michael inches closer, his breath hot against your aching clit. Meanwhile, Luke drags his lips down your jaw and along your throat, sucking carefully at the soft skin.
Mindlessly, your hips grind against Luke’s fingers. Michael lingers, lips ghosting over the crease of your thigh before he finally licks a slow, teasing stripe across it.
Your breath shudders as Luke’s fingers find a perfect rhythm. His teeth graze your skin, never quite biting—just the threat of fangs pressed against your throbbing pulse.
The bond floods your veins, white-hot, and when Luke finally sinks his teeth into your neck, the sharp pierce nearly unravels you. At the same moment, Michael licks a slow, torturous circle around your clit.
Your back bows off the couch, their touch working in tandem to drive you mad. The connection thrums through you, hungry, insatiable, demanding more.
“Just like that, baby,” Luke whispers, pulling back from your neck. His voice is gravel, his lips wet against your ear. “Taking my fingers so well. You gonna tell Mike I’m the one making you feel good, right?”
Michael answers for you—his mouth sealing over your clit with a sudden, rough suck. Your legs quake, and a ragged cry rips from your throat as your fingers twist into his red hair.
He groans into you, pulling back just long enough to rasp, “Such a good fucking girl.” Then he dives back in, tongue flicking quick and precise.
A breathless laugh tumbles out of you, even as your body trembles. “Earn it,” you mewl. “Neither of you are earning anything at this pace.”.
Then—suddenly—Luke stills. His fingers stop, Michael pulls back, both of them pausing in confusion.
And before you can process, Luke sinks to his knees beside Michael. You blink down at them, dazed, venom-born euphoria still thrumming through your veins, every touch amplified to the edge of unbearable bliss.
You laugh, breathless. “I fucking love it when you fight.”
“I want a taste too,” Luke murmurs, parting your legs wider. He leans down, licking a determined stripe up your core that rips a loud groan from your throat.
Michael groans with you, his hand dropping to palm the bulge straining against his jeans. The outline is blatant, intimidating, and inviting all at once.
“That’s—” he cuts himself off, tongue darting across his red-stained lips. “That’s so fucking hot.”
Luke swirls his tongue around your clit, then pulls back just enough to lock eyes with Michael. One hand shoots up, cupping the back of Michael’s neck, dragging him closer.
“Then help me make a mess out of this pretty little doll,” Luke commands, eyes flashing a dangerous red. He pushes Michael down toward you, forcing his mouth between your thighs.
Your breath hitches as Michael’s tongue joins Luke’s, both of them working in tandem. They swirl, flick, and lap at your clit, the double sensation so overwhelming it knocks a gasp from your chest.
The sight is almost as consuming as the pleasure—the two vampires, lips brushing as they move together, tasting you at once, desperate and feral, their rivalry blurring into hunger.
Luke pulls back, his thumb taking over where his tongue had been. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes heavy-lidded. He spits directly on your clit, and you cry out when his mouth returns to it.
A teasing finger circles your entrance, slow and maddening. It slips inside easily—followed by another.
When you glance down, both men are moving together, fingers pumping in and out of you while their tongues collide over your clit.
One of Michael’s hands clamps onto your thigh, fingers digging in until more blood wells from the bite there.
You’re trembling on the edge, eyes locked on the two vampires between your legs. The rough scrape of their stubble against your inner thighs makes you gasp, and your hand shoots out to clutch the couch cushion, searching for something to hold onto.
Your mind unravels under the sensation. Their skin is icy where their mouths are blazing, the contrast overwhelming. Your vision blurs white.
With a ragged scream, you let go. The orgasm crashes over you, devastating and all-consuming, as you grind helplessly against their faces. They hold your thighs open, forcing you to ride it out, milking every shudder until you’re trembling in their hands.
“Fuck, that’s it, doll,” Michael gasps, his fingers still moving inside you relentlessly. “Just like that—such a pretty fucking mess. Isn’t she, Luke?”
You’re still trembling, your body trying to come down from the high. Luke pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“The prettiest,” he agrees, turning to Michael. “You’re not done, are you?”
Michael shakes his head, eyes burning. “There’s a mating bond to sate. Of course I’m not done.”
He lunges forward, crashing his lips to Luke’s again. Both of them groan into the kiss, mouths moving hungrily, and you watch with rapt attention.
Your hand drifts between your legs, circling your oversensitive clit. Your thighs are still quivering, but the sight before you is too enticing to resist.
“You taste like her,” Luke mumbles, licking into Michael’s mouth. “So fucking good.”
Michael trails kisses down Luke’s neck, drawing a groan from the blond. Then his gaze flicks to you, fingers working between your legs.
You smirk, letting out an exaggerated moan. “Don’t stop on my account,” you whimper, circling faster. “I like the show.”
Michael sinks his teeth into Luke’s neck, and the groan Luke lets out in response is filthy. Their hips grind against each other, desperate for friction, for some kind of release.
“Sit,” Luke rasps through a ragged breath as Michael licks a stray drop of blood from his skin. “On the couch. Go.”
Michael pulls back, one brow arched. Luke’s narrowed eyes leave no room for argument. With a low exhale, Michael steps back and drops onto the couch.
“Touch her,” Luke instructs, his voice guttural.
Michael’s fingers replace your own, circling your clit with the same pace you’d set. The pleasure spikes—sharper, more electric simply because it’s his fingers now.
Luke cups your face between his hands, forcing your gaze to meet his. Blood still trails down his neck, the red far too vivid to be human.
He ducks his head and crashes his lips against yours. You can still taste yourself there, faint but lingering, and you groan into his mouth.
Michael’s lips find your shoulder, one hand tugging your shirt down until your breasts spill free. Leaning lower, he wraps his mouth around a nipple and sucks.
Luke’s grip is iron, one hand fisting the hair at the back of your head as his mouth moves filthily over yours, tongue sliding past your lips to lick into you.
Your hands scramble to the button of his jeans, flicking it open with practiced ease while Michael keeps sucking and biting at your nipple, his hands never stilling.
You’re so wet the sound of it seems to fill the room, louder than the bass still bleeding through the walls.
Frantically, you tug at Luke’s pants, feeling the aching length of him straining beneath the fabric. When you pull his underwear down, he springs free.
Luke doesn’t release your face, kissing you like he’s drowning. Blindly, you wrap your hand around him, thumb smearing precum across his tip.
While one hand strokes him, your other reaches for Michael. It’s a struggle undoing his jeans with one hand, but you manage.
“Such a filthy fucking girl,” he rasps against your ear, fingers picking up their pace. You whimper into Luke’s mouth, grabbing Michael’s cock with your free hand and pumping at the same speed you’re working Luke.
Michael moans, hips jerking into your grip. Luke groans against your mouth as you work both of them tirelessly.
“I need one of you inside me,” you mutter into Luke’s kiss. “Please—it hurts. I need to be full. I need to be so fucking full.”
Luke pulls back, a trail of spit connecting your lips as he exhales shakily. His gaze drops to your hand stroking his cock, then flicks to Michael, who’s getting the same treatment.
“Get on top of him, then,” Luke orders, hands falling from your face as he steps back.
You scramble to obey, swinging a leg over Michael’s thighs and straddling him. His hands clamp to your waist, gripping tightly as if to keep you there longer.
Bruises will bloom there later—you’re already thrilled at the thought.
You glance back at Luke, who’s standing a few feet away, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking lazily as he watches you and Michael.
Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you pull it over your head and let it fall somewhere in the room. The only thing left on you is your skirt, bunched at your waist and covering nothing at all.
You turn back to Michael, the pull flaring hot beneath your skin as you lean in and press your lips to his. Slowly, you begin to grind against him, dragging your folds over the length of his cock in lazy, teasing strokes.
Michael moans into your mouth, his hands clamping tighter on your waist. Behind you, Luke is gasping, the slick sound of him working himself to the sight of you intoxicating.
“Please,” you breathe into Michael’s mouth. “I need you.”
Groaning, Michael bites your lower lip and nods. His hand darts between you, gripping his cock to line himself up with your entrance.
He drags it through your folds one last time, the ridge of the head catching on your clit. Then, without warning, he lines up and thrusts into you.
The length of him splits you open, the stretch so intense it rips a cry from your throat as you sink onto him until he’s buried to the hilt.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you. Luke moans at the sight, still stroking himself.
It takes a heartbeat to adjust to Michael’s size, but your body welcomes him, the pull between all three of you reaching a fever pitch. You moan helplessly, eyes fluttering shut.
Michael is just as loud, hissing curses under his breath. “You’re so tight, doll,” he groans. “Taking me like a good fucking girl. I know I’m big, baby, but you’re doing so good.”
You nod, too far gone for words. Slowly, you start to roll your hips.
Luke moves closer, climbing onto the couch and gripping your jaw to turn your face to him. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips, the scent of him enveloping you as Michael thrusts deep inside you.
You whimper, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room.
“Open,” Luke orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.
You wrap your lips around the tip of Luke’s cock, eyes rolling back at the sight of him above you. Michael’s hands grip your hips, lifting and guiding you up and down on him; you clench around him with every movement.
Spit dribbles down your chin as you work to take more of Luke into your mouth. Your legs tremble, every nerve sparking with pleasure.
Luke lets out a helpless moan, head tipping back as his hips begin to thrust into your mouth. He’s big, too, and your body aches for him even as your throat strains to take him.
“She’s so warm,” Michael pants, hips bucking helplessly up into you. “So fucking tight. You gotta feel her—feel our little fuck doll milking your cock.”
You gasp, and Luke pulls back from your mouth. He meets Michael’s eyes, a matching glint of mischief darkening his features.
Sliding off the couch, Luke rounds you until he’s behind you. “Is that right?” he taunts, voice low. “Think this greedy little thing can take both of us at the same time?”
You sob, bouncing faster on Michael’s cock. “Yes,” you cry, every sound tumbling helplessly from your lips. “I need you both. Please—just fuck me.”
“Such a good little slut for us,” Michael coos, lips dragging along your jaw before sucking at the curve of your neck. “Fuck, you’re dripping everywhere. Making a mess out of me, hmm?”
You nod just as Luke presses his chest against your back. Your bare breasts flatten against Michael’s chest, and you feel the blunt head of Luke’s cock teasing where you’re already so full.
“Are you gonna be a good little thing,” Luke murmurs, hand gripping the back of your neck, “and let us stretch you out—let us claim you?”
You nod rapidly, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips. The bond thrums harder, calling for Luke to fall into place and seal what brought you here in the first place.
The mating bond.
“That’s our good fucking girl,” Luke groans, slowly pushing into you. The stretch was already intense, but with Luke forcing his way inside alongside Michael it becomes overwhelming.
Tears streak down your cheeks as Michael catches your lips in a heated kiss. Luke keeps pressing deeper until he’s fully sheathed inside you.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight,” Luke groans, forehead dropping against your spine. “Already full, and still sucking me in like a greedy little thing.”
You tear your mouth away from Michael’s just as Luke bottoms out, a scream ripping free. Instinct takes over, and your fangs sink into Michael’s neck.
The sweet metallic rush floods your tongue, the taste enveloping your senses as every nerve ignites. Euphoria crashes through you, your body shaking, your mind going hazy at the edges.
They’re both inside you. Both of your mates.
Michael lets out a strangled cry, grinding into you. Luke pulls back only to slam forward again, neither of them giving you a moment to breathe as they piston their hips into you relentlessly.
Your screams of pleasure break into sobs, your mind unable to comprehend the searing level of sensation. The obscene friction pushes you toward an orgasm far quicker than you’d ever anticipated.
Luke reaches forward, gathering a smear of blood from Michael’s shoulder with his fingers and then pressing them into your mouth.
You swirl your tongue around his digits, body rocking with each of their thrusts. Michael’s hand slides between you, fingers finding your clit with ease.
He rubs steady circles there in perfect rhythm with their movements. “Look at her,” he growls. “Taking us both so well. Doesn’t she look pretty with her pussy stuffed full?”
Luke hisses. “Wait until we’re both dripping out of her,” he snarls. “She’ll be leaving messes behind for days.”
“I’m gonna come,” you cry, burying your face in the crook of Michael’s neck. “Please don’t stop—fuck, I’m so close.”
Luke fists your hair, yanking your head back and using it as leverage to pound into you harder.
“Come for us,” he urges. “Need to feel this tight little cunt squeeze the life out of us. C’mon, pretty princess—don’t you wanna come?”
Michael’s fingers speed up, blurring with the rhythm of their thrusts. You shatter with a cry, body seizing and spasming as you clench helplessly around them, milking both cocks while you grind against them.
“Oh, fuck,” Michael manages before both men sink their fangs into your skin. The piercing pain blooms into overwhelming bliss, your stomach clenching as another orgasm crashes through you.
Pure euphoria floods your veins as their movements stutter. You convulse between them, their mixed groans a soundtrack to your never-ending bliss.
“Fuck—fuck, I’m coming,” Luke chokes out, a deep groan tearing from his throat. Michael follows a heartbeat later, moaning your name into your neck as the two of them empty themselves inside you.
Slowly, you start to come down. The bliss ebbs as their fangs withdraw, leaving you slumped between them like a corpse.
Well—more lifeless than usual.
“Fuck,” Luke hisses as he slips out of you, collapsing onto the sofa beside you.
Michael follows a beat later, and you feel both of their releases slick and warm on your thighs. The mess is too addictive to look away from.
You melt into the space between them, your brain still fuzzy from the bond’s aftermath. Michael’s hand drifts to your thigh, tracing lazy patterns against your skin.
Luke drapes an arm over your shoulders, tucking you against his chest before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hum contentedly, throwing your legs over Michael’s lap.
“I guess both of you really earned it,” you muse, a helpless laugh spilling out of you.
Michael chuckles, dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “You’re stuck with us forever,” he says simply. “And we’re all stuck with each other. Might as well enjoy it.”
Luke bites his lip, head tipping back with a groan. “Fuck, I can’t wait to do this again.”
You shift, stretching with a sinful moan that makes both men perk up instantly. “This time,” you purr, batting your lashes, “I want to see you both choking on each other.”
Yeah. Spending eternity bonded to these two doesn’t sound so bad.
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