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Aether had woken up with a start to an empty bed. He’d packed his things quickly and stumbled outside, hurrying home without being spotted. He wanted to avoid school for the time being, perhaps— he’d never face down the humiliation.
But Scaramouche’s text message ordered him to head for he dreadful brick building, where glances and murmurs of his name seemed to follow him.
Aether’s golden eyes carried the usual timid light, though he tried to keep his chin high. He didn’t notice the way another pair of eyes followed him.
At the very back of the classroom, half-hidden in shadow, Scaramouche sat with one elbow propped against his desk, violet eyes gleaming with something sharp and amused. Resting on the wood before him was a doll—porcelain, small, yet unnervingly lifelike.
Aether’s likeness stared back up at him. Golden-glass eyes, carefully braided hair, the faint pout of soft lips.
Scaramouche’s smirk deepened as he let his finger trace along the doll’s jaw.
On the opposite side of the room, Aether’s breath hitched. His head jerked slightly to the side, as if someone had brushed his chin with invisible fingers. He blinked quickly, cheeks heating, earning a few puzzled glances from his classmates.
He clasped his trembling hands in his lap, whispering to himself, “Stay calm. Focus. You already have enough of rumours of you… sleeping around…”
But then Scaramouche tilted the doll’s chin upward between two fingers.
Aether gasped quietly, his own head tipping back against his will. His throat was bared to the ceiling, his golden eyes wide, trembling under the curious stares of the students around him.
“Is something wrong, Aether?” the teacher asked from the front of the room, brows furrowed.
“I—I…” His voice broke, his blush deepening as he forced his head back down with trembling effort. “I’m fine.”
From the back, Scaramouche chuckled softly, low enough for only the doll to hear. He brought it close to his lips, whispering against its porcelain ear. Aether tentatively sat down.
“Good boy.”
Aether flinched, his golden eyes darting to the back of the classroom—only to meet Scaramouche’s steady, predatory gaze. The doll lay in his hands, its braid swaying gently as though mocking him.
The classroom was filled with the steady hum of pens scratching paper, the teacher’s voice droning on about ancient history.
Aether sat near the front, small frame stiff, his golden eyes fixed on the words in his notebook. But his hand shook with every line he tried to write. His pen slipped, the ink smudging as his wrist jerked at an odd angle.
He dropped the pen with a clatter.
Next to him, Durin’s crimson eyes sharpened. He had been watching Aether for some time now, fascinated by the delicate boy’s quiet grace. But this—this trembling, this sudden loss of control—set something sharp and uneasy stirring in his chest.
He leaned forward, his frame shadowing the desk as he murmured just low enough for Aether to hear. “Are you alright?”
Aether’s golden eyes darted toward him—wide, startled, panicked. “I-I’m fine,” he whispered, clutching his notebook tightly. His cheeks burned. “Thank you though, uh…”
“Durin,” the dragon-hybrid responded, his crimson eyes narrowing. “We met a few weeks ago.”
Aether nodded, but his attention snapped to the front of the classroom as the teacher called his name. “Aether, if you’d read the last paragraph?”
His throat bobbed, but he obeyed, his voice soft as he read. Yet every syllable trembled.
Durin’s frown deepened.
From the shadows at the back of the classroom, Scaramouche watched with narrowed eyes. His smirk had faded, replaced by something cold and dangerous.
Aether didn’t seem to notice him now, too caught up in Durin’s attention, his presence. As if the hybrid’s gaze was a shield, keeping Aether safe from the phantom touches of the doll.
Scaramouche gripped the porcelain figure tighter in his fist, his knuckles whitening. He leaned back, propping his feet on the desk, his eyes never leaving Aether’s form.
His hand glanced menacingly over the fleshy hole moulded between the doll’s delicate legs, about to reach when the bell suddenly rung. He grabbed his books, stood up, and glared at the blonde, before walking silently to the opposite classroom. Unfortunately, Aether had been temporarily… excused from student council meetings. Scaramouche had to go alone.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a bit of fun.
Durin stayed behind with Aether, helping his trembling hands move his books into his bag. The blonde was rather cute, he noted absentmindedly, when Aether suddenly gasped.
He doubled over, his hands gripping his stomach.
Durin grabbed him by the shoulder, holding the boy up before he could collapse.
“Aether? What’s wrong?”
Aether shook his head, unable to speak, his body shuddering. It felt like something was inside him—moving, thrusting—oh god. His eyes rolled back, his face red and panting.
Durin held him tighter, his brows drawn together. “You’re… shuddering,” he observed, a low rumble to his voice. “Like something’s moving inside you.”
Aether’s breath caught in his throat, his lips parting in a soundless cry. He gripped Durin’s hand, his fingernails digging into the dragon-hybrid’s flesh.
A shudder of pleasure ran down his spine as the thrusts intensified, something hard and slick slamming deep inside him. His legs quaked, his knees threatening to buckle under him.
“Aether?” Durin was saying, his voice tinged with alarm. There was something oddly lewd about the way Aether shook, the way his legs trembled, that made Durin’s gut tighten. “What’s wrong? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
Aether’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. “No, I-I’m fine, I’ll be fine in just a moment, please don’t—don’t call an ambulance—”
But he broke off with a gasp, his back arching, his eyes rolling back in his head as he came. His body spasmed, his hips bucking as the pleasure ripped through him. Durin held onto him tightly, holding him up as his body shook and trembled. He was so cute, Durin thought distantly, when Aether was like this.
—
Scaramouche didn’t think the doll could accommodate his whole finger. But he was proven wrong. As the doll took him deeper and deeper, his knuckles slamming against the soft porcelain flesh, he gasped, his eyes darkening with pleasure.
The doll was warm, so soft, so slick, so tight. It clung to him as if it was alive, its insides pulsing and squeezing. He could almost imagine Aether—his cute, flushed face, his trembling lips, his beautiful golden eyes wide with pleasure…
Scaramouche growled deep in his chest, his hips thrusting harder, faster. He imagined that Aether was beneath him, the boy’s soft legs wrapped around his waist, his insides hot and slick and so, so tight. He didn’t even notice when class had ended, only absentmindedly walking out with a raging boner— headed straight for the bathroom.
Fuck, he was getting hard. He buried his finger and used the doll to jerk himself off, his thrusts hard and quick.
“Fuck, Aether,” he growled, his violet eyes dark with lust. “Fuck, you feel so good—so tight, so wet…”
He imagined that it was Aether’s face before him, his sweet, delicate features flushed with pleasure, his soft lips parted in a silent cry. He imagined that it was the omega’s body beneath him, writhing and trembling and moaning.
Scaramouche shuddered, his thrusts growing faster and more frantic. He imagined the way Aether would cling to him, his soft legs wrapped tightly around his waist, the boy’s beautiful golden eyes filled with pleasure and adoration.
And with a groan, he came, his seed spilling onto his fingers.
He leaned his head back, a smirk curving his lips. Aether was good—so good, so sweet, so obedient.
—
Durin held Aether awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He’d gingerly placed the blonde on the desk, but Aether has deliriously wrapped his legs around the purplenette… and Durin could feel himself getting hard. What is he supposed to do in this situation? Nobody was here. He’d never been this close to someone. He tried to think of anything else, but it was so hard to when Aether’s sweet scent filled his nose and the boy trembled in his arms.
“A-ah, I… D-Durin!” He wailed, wrapping his hands around the dragon’s shoulders. He looked so god damn submissive and cute, Durin resisted the urge to just throw him down and fuck him.
But Aether continued to wail in pleasure, his legs tightening around Durin’s waist, pulling him closer. Durin had never felt such pleasure before. His body was on fire, his cock straining against his pants.
Aether was so beautiful like this—his face flushed, his lips trembling, his golden eyes dazed with pleasure. His body trembled and quaked beneath Durin, so soft and warm and inviting.
He couldn’t resist any longer.
Durin grabbed Aether’s hips, pulling the blonde against him. The boy gasped, his legs tightening around the dragon-hybrid, his fingers digging into the dark blue fabric of his shirt.
“Oh god,” Durin muttered, his hips thrusting, his cock grinding against Aether’s soft ass. “Oh fuck, you feel so good…”
Aether’s eyes widened as he felt something hot and hard against him. He was already sensitive from the previous orgasms, and he couldn’t help but shudder as Durin’s cock rubbed against him.
“D-Durin?” he whispered, his voice trembling with pleasure. “What are you doing?”
Durin didn’t answer, his hips grinding harder, faster, his cock throbbing against Aether. The dragon-hybrid leaned forward, his teeth grazing Aether’s neck.
Aether shuddered, his head tipping back, his golden eyes wide with shock and pleasure. His legs tightened around Durin’s hips, his soft body arching against the dragon’s hard chest. He felt so good—his body trembling, his heart pounding, his cock throbbing.
“Fuck,” Durin growled against his neck, his hips slamming against Aether’s body. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this…”
Aether moaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed, his body trembling. He was so sensitive, so warm, so inviting. He couldn’t resist the pleasure that Durin gave him, the heat that burned within his body.
He was going to lose control. He was going to let Durin fuck him, right here, right now. And he didn’t care—he didn’t care about anything but the pleasure, the heat, the way Durin made him feel.
“A-ah—D-Durin,” he moaned, his head falling back, his golden eyes glazed with lust. “Oh god, D-Durin…”
Durin growled low in his chest. He grabbed a fistful of cloth and ripped, exposing the blonde’s slicked hole to the cool air. Durin groaned at the sight, his hips jerking. His cock throbbed, aching to be inside Aether, to feel his tight, slick heat. He knew it would be so good—so hot, so perfect…
He aligned his cock with the blonde’s entrance, the tip brushing against his hole. Aether gasped, his legs quaking around Durin’s hips.
“Are you sure about this, Aether?” Durin murmured against his lips. “Are you ready to feel me inside you?”
Aether’s blush deepened, his golden eyes darkening with desire. “Yes,” he breathed, his hips arching against Durin’s. “Oh god, yes—please, Durin, fuck me…”
And with a low growl, Durin thrust inside, his cock burying deep in Aether’s body.
Aether cried out, his back arching off the desk, his legs tightening around Durin. The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming—he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he could only feel.
Durin groaned, his hips jerking, his cock thrusting deep inside Aether’s body. He was so tight, so hot, so wet—he was so perfect, so beautiful, so his.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers gripping Aether’s hips tighter, his teeth scraping Aether’s neck. “Oh god, Aether, you feel so fucking good…”
Aether whimpered, his head falling back against the desk, his golden eyes fluttering closed. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think—he could only feel the pleasure, the heat, Durin inside him.
He was losing control, he was losing himself. He was giving himself to Durin, body and soul—and he didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything but this, but the way Durin made him tremble, the way he made him feel.
Aether’s legs tightened around Durin, his hips arching to meet the dragon-hybrid’s thrusts. His body was slick with sweat, his heart pounding in his chest—and he knew he was going to cum soon, he was going to give in to the pleasure.
And as Durin’s teeth sank into his neck, as the dragon-hybrid growled against his skin, Aether came, his body spasming, his pleasure spilling hot and sweet between their bodies.
“D-Durin,” he breathed, his voice trembling, his golden eyes dark with pleasure. “Oh god, Durin…”
Durin chuckled against his ear, his hips still thrusting, his cock still buried deep in Aether’s body. Fuck, he felt so good. Durin wanted to keep him like this forever, his soft body trembling and moaning beneath him.
But he knew he couldn’t. The bell was ringing, students were filing back into class. Durin reluctantly pulled out, the wet sounds of his cock leaving Aether’s ass making them both shudder with pleasure. He tucked himself back into his pants and gently lifted Aether from the desk.
The blonde moaned as his body slipped from the desk, his soft frame slumping against Durin’s chest. He was covered in sweat and cum, his hair in disarray, his clothes torn and askew. But he was still so beautiful, his golden eyes shining, his soft lips trembling with pleasure.
Durin smiled, his hand gently cupping Aether’s cheek, his thumb brushing Aether’s trembling lips. “You’re so cute when you’re like this, Aether,” he murmured, his crimson eyes gleaming.
Aether’s blush deepened. His legs quaked at the praise, his mind still dazed with pleasure and lust. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that—fuck, he’d just been fucked in the middle of the classroom…
He shuddered again, his legs trembling. He couldn’t stand, he couldn’t walk—he was too weak, too sensitive, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He needed Durin’s touch, his strength, his heat…
Durin chuckled softly, his strong arms wrapping around Aether’s waist. He lifted the blonde, cradling him against his chest. “Don’t worry, Aether,” he murmured against the boy’s ear. “I’ll take care of you…”
Aether trembled, his soft body pressing closer to Durin’s warm chest. Durin covered him with his jacket and promptly walked to the shower to wash him off.
Scaramouche scowled, his fingers digging into his palm as he clenched his fist. His violet eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the doll in his other hand. He’d felt Aether’s pleasure, he’d felt the blonde’s orgasm—but it wasn’t from the doll, it wasn’t from Scaramouche.
It was from someone else. Someone else had made Aether feel good—someone else had given him pleasure, had taken him.
Scaramouche gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his chest. No one else was going to touch Aether again—not without permission, not without Scaramouche's permission.
He glanced down at the doll, his eyes darkening. He was going to take care of Aether, he was going to make him his. And no one was going to stop him—not even Aether himself.
Scaramouche’s fingers trailed along the doll’s skin. He tilted the doll’s head upward, his eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.
This slutty cow was going to pay.