Archive of Our Own ^beta

While on the run from a machete-wielding madman, you made a few turns down a long and winding corridor that spanned through the apartments in a maze-like labyrinth, and just up ahead, that tell-tale crimson glow threatened to meet you halfway through.

Your eyes locked onto the walls, desperately searching for an out, and just as luck would have it, you saw a big enough opening to easily fit your form. Mr. Gap predictably was already lurking in such murky depths ready to mess with you, only to be pushed off to the side, involuntarily sharing the darkness at your side instead.

Mr. Scarletella successfully strolled by, pausing in his tracks halfway through, only to continue moving forward once he determined that you were nowhere in sight. This left Mr. Gap to help you (begrudgingly) travel through the walls, maneuvering you around all sorts of nooks and crannies until finally, you ended up somewhere else entirely. While your relationship with the strange wall-dweller was rocky from the beginning, he had unintentionally become a lingering ghostly guardian of sorts, watching, observing, and ready to intervene whenever something sinister threatened to hurt you.

Yet, try as you did to leave the void, you barely managed to get halfway through, leaving one half of you still stuck in the walls, with the other half of you dangling on the other end. Your legs thrashed in frustration on Mr. Gap’s side as your palms on the other half pushed hard against the wall in an attempt to tear yourself out—yet the attempts seemed to be futile at best—leaving you properly stuck.

Mr. Gap tried his best to get you out of his territory with what felt like annoyed pushes against your form, his hands pressing hard against your thighs and digging into the soft skin that would do anything but budge. Beyond the barrier of the walls, you could just barely make out, “are you ####?” to which you could only assume was him asking if you were stuck.

With a reluctant call, you confirmed his suspicions with a “yes”, hoping that he would continue to try and force you out, but no matter how much he kneaded and pushed, he couldn’t quite get you to move forward even a single inch. Mr. Gap frustratedly then seemingly gave up, but then you started to feel as his annoyance turned into curiosity, his hands beginning to feel around your skin just below your dress, pushing it up and finding your—your—!

Feeling immediately flustered, you kicked your leg towards him in protest which succeeded for maybe a minute before you started to feel as he moved around you, locking you into such a position that meant you could no longer squirm around as much, returning his hands right back to where they were before.

You narrowed your eyes as you felt his fingertips delicately and almost gingerly, creep over towards your sex, touching up the sensitive skin that made up your lower body. Seeming curious about your reactions, his fingers traced lazy strokes around the area, perhaps finding it intriguing that your legs spasmed and twitched involuntarily.

You remained frozen all the while, furiously blushing on the other side as you soon succumbed to a flustered mess, and just as your luck would have it, your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps closing in.

“Please, please, please don’t let it be Mr. Scarletella,” you thought to yourself on a repeated mantra, whispering out the sentence like a desperate prayer.

Not noticing the red glow, you warily flicked your eyes up, only to be met with the tilt of Mr. Silvair’s curious head tilt. He branched out one hand, tweezing your chin with two fingers, lifting it up to study your overwhelmed state. The pads of his fingers ran across the rouge of your cheeks, as though studying you.

Seeming to form something in mind, he took the opportunity to prop your mouth open so that you met his gaze and then, with his other hand, he closed his fist, leaving two pointed fingers open before slipping the pair in between your lips, pushing them as far in as possible as if to determine just far he could reach before you would react.

All the while, Mr. Gap worked on exploring your other stuck half, building up a radiating wave of unexpected pleasure that coarse throughout your body. Mr. Silvair used your partially occupied state to idly coax you into complying with him, withdrawing his fingers from the space, prompting you to close your mouth in the process, yet not quite being allowed to do so.

He tapped your lips with his index finger, saying a mysterious word while gesturing at his own mouth, before opening it and revealing another new word. He repeated such a demonstration twice, communicating with you to keep your mouth open, not closed, appearing to be pleased when you complied.

Mr. Gap seemed to pause as you reached something that felt like it was close to your peak, but not quite, communicating through the muffled barriers of the separating walls to Mr. Silvair. Their conversation however was largely lost on your ears, as only certain snippets could be made out. It seemed like they were both agreeing on something…?

Pulling back a little, Mr. Silvair looked down at you again with his lips curled into a sly smile. He tilted your chin up to the angle it was in before, snapping his fingers right above you to keep your attention before fumbling with his tattered clothes, revealing his half-erect cock. With a wary eye, you observed as he took himself into his hand, rubbing the tip against the cusp of your lips, watching and feeling as it grew to its full size from the contact.

He then slipped his throbbing length into your still-open mouth, pushing just far enough for you to feel his shaft rest idly on your tongue, tilting his head off to the other side in curiosity before withdrawing. It seemed that he liked the sensation, but his greater curiosity was your reaction over his own.

Communicating something beyond your comprehension once more, Mr. Silvair barked out some sort of instruction to Mr. Gap, with the request not remaining a mystery for too long as you quickly found yourself full of a different kind of sensation. It was sudden, but somehow not too unexpected as you felt Mr. Gap gain entry into your sex from behind, pushing forth with slick ease into your sopping heat.

Unlike Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap didn’t wait around to surrender to the new sensation, feverishly bucking right away and holding onto wherever—whatever he could—his fingernails digging crescents into your skin in frenzied want. He rutted at a crazed pace, his movements delivering as almost sloppy and erratic, lacking complete control as if consumed by lust. Such hurried thrusting into your core left you feeling further overwhelmed, milking out rolling moans and whimpers from the slip of your lips, catching Mr. Silvair’s attention once more.

Once again, he slipped his cock back into your mouth, this time pushing in as far as you could physically take him, feeling as the tip of his length kissed the back of your throat, flooding you with such a sudden fullness that you could barely contain your gagged reaction, resorting to tapping onto his legs in a silent plea for him to let you breathe.

Allowing you to do so, Mr. Silvair clawed a hefty lock of your hair as you recollected your senses, grappling your head into a slightly suspended angle before guiding himself back in. The combination of slightly applied pain in combination with the stifled moans and cries appeared to tickle something within him, evident by how he seemed to enjoy using your mouth to milk out all sorts of interesting reactions. Once locked into it, however, he settled on something closer to a steadier pace, guiding your head at a smoother rate.

But then his eyes fluttered as the pleasure rose and his movements succumbed to something sloppier than he would have liked, taking on and off moments to better readjust himself. In an attempt to retain a semblance of some control, he couldn’t quite do so, letting out a frustrated sigh instead. Mr. Silvair then squeezed his hand tighter against your scalp, tugging the ends of your hair in a way that bordered almost unpleasant while keeping your chin locked under his other hand. Quickly, rapidly, he fucked himself into your throat at a less-than-composed momentum, surrendering shamelessly to his erratic desperation, his control slipping away with each bucking spur.

On the other side, Mr. Gap was long lost to the bliss that he found himself buried within, determined to drive out his release as well as your own. He slammed himself relentlessly against your form, impaling you with his girth. His end was near and you could feel it, clamping your hands right around Mr. Silvair’s legs, gasping as you choked back a cry, feeling his cock twitch and empty itself into your soaked cunt—feeling as Mr. Gap, despite straining himself post-climax—still tried to push through to ride out the orgasm, falling limp only out of exhaustion.

Although, as if still enticed, Mr. Gap returned his fingers to where they were before, enjoying the odd little reactions that your legs would signal, allowing you to unbeknownst to him, catch up too. Perhaps it was the situation that you found yourself in that left you so overwhelmed and hot, to begin with, but you couldn’t help like this was the best that you have ever felt. Warm, radiating, and tingling sensations flooded within you, rendering you completely and utterly spent, but also relaxed.

Mr. Silvair soon caught up too, shooting thick white ropes of his load into your throat before slowly pulling out, leaving webbing saliva and cum alike to coat your chin upon his retreat. He looked down at you almost clinically, seeming to form even more thoughts in his mind before tucking himself back into clothed concealment.

Much to the curiosity of all three of you; such a state of deep relaxation seemed to allow you to at least slip out of the hole in the wall, allowing you to land rather clumsily on your hands and knees. Mr. Gap peered through, his face appearing to be extra red and disheveled, for the time being, too out of it from over-exerting himself to properly protest against your sudden absence.

Mr. Silvair however seemed to have something else in mind, studying you with that same tell-tale head tilt that now left you both wary and even… aroused? Picking you up and steadying you at your feet, you tried to latch onto him for comfort which he did not pick up on, instead gesturing for you to follow him along to somewhere else entirely, leaving you wondering what on earth he could be planning next.