#he makes ramen that kills

[lesbiangiratina]

Funny as hell. Yeah theyre doing great

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

So I was reading articles about John Hurt (as I do when I procrastinate on life in general lol) and I saw a still shot of a movie I’ve never seen still shots of before; so I looked it up. It’s a play. I was worried I wouldn’t find it in full online; but I did, so here it is in all its glory:

He’s just… ugh I want to gently hold his face in my hands he’s just so sad and lonely with his weepy voice and eye bags. I couldn’t process half of what he said but I think this is a warning about always speed-running through life to get to the next good thing. We should appreciate the moment; because in the end, we’ll have nothing at all but our memories. If we rush through life, we won’t have any memories to keep us warm at night when the chill of death creeps up on us in our old age.

Also, spool, spooooooooooollll…….

spoooooooooooooooooooooolllllll [cackles in mentally unstable]

@kaleidoscopr @theindo @possessedbydevils @randomtwospirit

[aajjks]

Wifey and Groceries (m)

synopsis. Another day, another shenanigan. Going grocery shopping with your nightmare of a roommate who really wants to fuck you, can’t be that much of a struggle, can it?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: crack, 18+

warnings: grôcêry stôre shênânîgâns, flïrty jungkôôk, ôbsêssêd jungkôôk, tsûndêrê yôû, împlîcît sêxûâl jôkês, ânnôyîng jungkôôk whô wôn’t stôp bâbyîng yôû, lïkè îf yôû thïnk lâûghîng îs flïrtîng.

note. I never imagined receiving so much love on stuff like this but thank you- thank you so much for sending so much love on stuck with you and loving our horny roommate jaykay so much. 😵‍💫🥺 so on high demand here is another part. If this flops like I’m expecting well- umm but anyways I hope you guys enjoy this but please share your thoughts and feedback and if this also becomes a hit, I will write another part and I will really make this a series!! ENJOY!

“Jungkook, I swear to God, put that back.”

What did you do so wrong in your past life to deserve this kind of torture in the human form of your roommate, Jeon Jungkook?

You cannot believe this.

You glare at the ridiculous amount of instant ramen he’s just dumped into the cart, your fingers gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are white.

It’s the third time he’s done this, and you’re this close to losing it in the middle of the aisle.

“What? We’re gonna need it,” he says, all faux innocence, holding up one of the packs like it’s a sacred artifact. “You never know when there’s gonna be a ramen emergency.”

“There’s never going to be a ramen emergency, you idiot,” you snap, shoving the packs back onto the shelf. “Stop acting like a child.”

Jungkook gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just mortally wounded him. “Wow. You’re so mean to me. Is this what married life is gonna be like?”

“Married life?” You look at him like he’s grown a second head. “We’re not even—why are you like this?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,”

he smirks, leaning casually on the cart. “We’re grocery shopping together, picking out ingredients for our future home-cooked meals. Pretty much married already.”

“Jungkook, I’m going to kill you.”

“Whoa, whoa, Mrs. Jeon, let’s not resort to violence,” he teases, pushing the cart forward as you glare at him. “Not when we’re still in our honeymoon phase.”

MRS JEON???? What the fuck is he barking about?

You shove the cart to a halt, ignoring the way he laughs at your frustration. “Stop calling me that. And stop putting random crap in the cart!”

“I’m not putting random crap in the cart.” He points to the giant stuffed bear sticking out of the basket. “This guy’s coming home with us. He’ll be perfect for our couch.”

“Jungkook, we don’t even have a couch.”

“Yet,” he says, grinning. “But when we do, he’s gonna look great. You’ll see.”

You groan, turning your back on him to grab the toothpaste you actually came for. But before you can even decide between mint or charcoal,

Jungkook sidles up behind you, way too close for comfort.

“Why are we even looking at toothpaste,” he murmurs, voice low, “when your smile’s already perfect?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious right now?”

“Always, babe.” He smirks, leaning casually against the shelf like he’s in a photoshoot. “You should get used to it. You’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?” You scoff, shoving the toothpaste into the cart. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t need to. You do it for me,” he fires back, trailing after you like a lost puppy as you head toward the produce section.

You ignore him, but it’s impossible when he suddenly grabs a cucumber and holds it up like a microphone.

“So, tell me,” he says, pretending to interview you, “what’s it like to be out grocery shopping with the man of your dreams?”

“Man of my nightmares, you mean,” you mutter, snatching the cucumber from his hand and tossing it into the cart.

“You wound me,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest like you’ve just shot him.

Then he grabs a pack of strawberries and holds it up.

“What about these? Strawberries for my sweetheart?”

“Your sweetheart isn’t here, Jungkook,” you deadpan.

He’s really testing your patience right now.

“Sure she is.” He winks, tossing the strawberries in the cart before you can protest.

By the time you reach the checkout line, your cart is a chaotic mix of actual groceries and Jungkook’s ridiculous additions, including the giant stuffed bear he refused to leave behind.

He’s a big man child.

As the cashier starts scanning your items, Jungkook casually drapes an arm around your shoulder.

“By the way,” he says, flashing his signature grin, “this is my girlfriend. Isn’t she pretty?”

Your brain short-circuits. “What—no, I’m not—;”

“She’s just shy,” Jungkook interrupts, squeezing your shoulder.

“But yeah, she’s the love of my life. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Why is your heart fluttering?

You slap his arm off you, your face burning as the cashier tries to hold back a laugh. “Jungkook, shut up.”

Just shut up before I shove my fist up your mouth.

He just laughs, that loud, obnoxious laugh that makes you want to scream and smile at the same time.

As you drag him out of the store, he’s still grinning like he’s just won the lottery. “Admit it,” he says, nudging your shoulder.

“You had fun.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you, twitching up into a reluctant smile. “You’re insufferable.”

He really is insufferable and you’re constantly suffering.

“And yet, here we are,” he teases, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Wanna grab ice cream on the way home, wifey?”

You groan, but you don’t shove him off this time.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend—

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals—for more than you’d care to admit—to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this—this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

-

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: What is that?

Tim: My lunch.

Bruce: Why is it so.....different?

Tim: Oh, Alfred didn't pack this for me. My boyfriend did.

Bruce: Your what?

Tim: My boyfriend. Danny was really excited to learn how to make Ramen from scratch so I was-

Bruce: Danny? Danny Fenton!?

Tim: You know my boyfriend?

Bruce: Of course I know that boy! He's the spawn of Madeline, the man stealing cow.

Tim: ......what

Bruce: If I didn't have my no killing rule I would have taken her out years ago and married Jake after he finished grieving her.

Tim: .....I called Danny paranoid, but I guess he was right. Billionaires really do try to steal his parents if he gets too close to them. No wonder he didn't want to me you.

Bruce: Bet you, he got that attitude from his mother.

Tim: Please leave me alone. I want to enjoy my ramen in peace.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HELLOOO idk if ur requests are on rn so take ur time with this request and get to it at ur own time but i was wondering if u could make a short one shot fic abt reader who is in a relationship with katsuki and is at home while he's out in patrol and she sees his location with life 360 and sees that he's beside some sort of restaurant or supermarket so she texts him smth like

i see ur beside the ramen place i like can u buy dinner tonight 😊

AND THEN KATSUKI IS JUST 🤬🤬🤬 WTF HOW DO U KNOW WHERE I AM ARE U OUTSIDE RN

all lighthearted and funny :))

THANK UUU SO MUCHH 💞💞

LMFAOOOO thjs js so funny😭😭😭 tysm for this ask i hope i did it some justice :33 hope you’re still stickin around to read it anon ! Short lil drabble, much luv xx

“since you’re by that ramen place i like you can get some for dinner 💋💕”

“ ? what the fuck”

“where are you.”

“?”

before you can send another text message, your phone lights up with your boyfriend’s caller id, you giggle.

“hi, baby.”

“where the fuck are you at ?”

you snort, readjusting on your sofa “what are you talking about ?” you ask teasingly.

you catch the sound of people talking as you hear katsuki grumbling to himself “i don’t see you.”

you giggle, kicking your legs a little “and why would you need to see me ?”

katsuki groans, already exasperated and growing more and more impatient, you’re surprised he hasn’t started cursing your entire bloodline yet “quit it with that mysterious bullshit, how do you know where i’m at.”

and just to mess with him, you respond “i see you.”

it’s quiet on his end for a moment, aside from the chatter on the street “yn. i’ll fucking kill you.” you throw your head back and laugh “once i find you, you’re done for. your ass is grass.”

“i like it when you talk dirty to me.” you joke, he scoffs hard on the other end “freak.” you hear him mumble, you giggle some more.

“i’m at home, just saw your location and decided to ask you to get me some food.”

“get you some food.” he bites, scoffing in disbelief.

“us, get us some food. pretty please, suki ?” you use your sweetest voice, maybe he might even be able to imagine your puppy dog eyes through the phone.

he laughs sarcastically “right. what makes you think you deserve to get anything after that little stunt you pulled, huh ?”

you pout, whining so he knows you are “i was just kidding, was jus’ a little jokey-joke.” you can’t help but tease him a bit more.

“yeah, my ass.” you snort loudly, laughing and the huff he lets out clearly lets you know he’s not amused, you can see him rolling his eyes at your antics.

“we’ll see.” is the answer he graces you with. you squeal, cus you know that means you won. katsuki is quick to remind you he didn’t say yes, but you already know his mind’s been made.

“i’m surprised you didn’t ask me why i have your location on my phone.” you hum.

katsuki sounds utterly confused by your question when he responds “why would i give a shit about that ? s’not like i get somethin’ to hide. don’t care if you know where i’m at.” he responds simply.

“sides, i know how obsessed you are with me, so—”

“i’m hanging up now, katsuki. get me my ramen. toodles.” your bitter tone makes him laugh, and just to piss you off some more he adds in a honeyed sweet “see you later, babe. love ya.” before he hangs up. you huff shaking your head. a text pings and you swipe up to check it, it’s from katsuki again.

“i’m not getting you shit btw.”

he does indeed come back with ramen.

[darkestrellar]

More misc svern trivias that I was thinking about this afternoon

Mentioned before various sleep habits such as having a sleep schedule that's all over the map, sleeping anywhere the heck he feels like, or generally not sleeping. Svern will nap if he feels like it (or pretend to) anytime, anywhere - in theory. But he doesn't tend to sleep easily unless he's actually exhausted (because his brain is constantly active and he just doesn't feel like sleeping).

Yeah. He will pretend to be asleep when he isn't actually.

Not gonna deny it, definitely a portion of why he sleeps in weird places and positions is similar to why he does most anything else: it's Weird and he Can. But also I just get the feeling he's tended toward sleeping compressed/pulled-in rather than spread out.

That said, if he's really, really and truly tired he's not likely to plop himself in a weird position in broad sight because in that case he actually doesn't want to be disturbed. He'll probably just wedge himself in somewhere quiet where he's unlikely to be noticed, or yeah, sleep somewhere normal if it's a place he's comfy with.

Usually has spicy instant noodles stashed because he likes them and they meet the easy food requirement for his lazy ass.

[felinecyan]

Untouchable

[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When a classmate breaks a well-known rule within the dorm, you decide to take it upon yourself to “fix” the issue.

WC: 2863

Category: Mega Fluff, Kindhearted!Reader, Todoroki being an icon (like always 💅)

I don’t know about you guys, but writing for Bakugo is the single hardest thing I have ever done. He is SUCH a difficult character to get right 😭

I believe I did him justice, though 🙏🙏

『••✎••』

Kaminari had a death wish. That was the only logical explanation for why the electric blonde was currently in the common room with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, along with a bowl of ramen that just so happened to belong to one Katsuki Bakugo.

Food was the one thing the explosive hero didn't joke around with, and the rest of Class 1-A was painfully aware of that fact. It was like a rule that had been ingrained into everyone's minds after spending any amount of time around the temperamental blonde.

Do not, under any circumstances, mess with Bakugo's food. Ever.

So the moment you had walked out of the kitchen and saw the familiar spice-infused soup in Kaminari's hands, you knew there was about to be a disaster. And that disaster was going to happen at the cost of the boy's life.

You were about to warn Kaminari when a familiar voice stopped you, its monotone quality giving away that it belonged to the heterochromatic hero. "Don't."

Todoroki shook his head at your concerned expression, a sigh leaving his lips. "It's not worth the effort; he'll learn the hard way. I would suggest standing back unless you want to get hit."

As if on cue, the sound of a bowl shattering against the floor echoed through the common room, and you flinched as bits of ramen and broth splattered your pants and shoes. You could only imagine what kind of mess it would have made if you had been standing any closer.

At the same time, Jiro sighed, plugging her ears as she muttered, "So much for getting some peace and quiet today."

Kaminari stood a few feet away from the mess, his entire body trembling in fear. He was too scared to move, frozen to the spot. His golden eyes were glued to the blonde standing before him, a murderous aura surrounding the ash-blonde.

"Bakugo, look, I can explain—"

The blonde's crimson eyes flashed in anger, and his face contorted into a feral snarl as he cut the electric user off. You couldn't stop the flinch that shook your body at the tone. "You... you..."

"It's just one bowl of ramen, dude! I'm sure you could easily make another one!" Kaminari exclaimed, waving his hands in front of his chest frantically. "I mean, come on, I know you love spicy food, but surely you're not that much of a monster that you'd kill me over it! Especially with something so mild as that!"

The room went silent, and Kaminari's words echoed in everyone's ears, but it only took Todoroki’s comment for the tension to change from fearful to downright chaotic.

"That was his last packet."

It was almost comical how fast the blood drained from Kaminari's face and how fast it returned a second later. The electric blonde gulped, a nervous laugh escaping him.

"B-Bakugo, listen—"

He was cut off again, this time by an explosion, which had been aimed right at his face. Thankfully, Bakugo missed on purpose, but the sound had been enough to startle everyone.

"You're so dead, Spark Plug!"

And thus began the chase, with Kaminari being chased around the room by an enraged Bakugo. Kaminari's screams of terror and Bakugo's threats and explosions filled the air, and everyone watched on in amusement.

Well, everyone except for Iida. He was chasing Bakugo, trying to calm the blonde down and yelling at him for using his quirk indoors, but his efforts were fruitless.

"Stop running around the room! You're going to destroy the furniture and break something!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, DUNCE FACE! GET BACK HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!"

Typical afternoon in the U.A. dorms.

After what felt like forever, the chaos eventually died down, with Bakugo calming down enough to sit and stew in his anger and Kaminari passing out from his quirk short-circuiting. You helped Iida clean up the mess that had been left behind, and everyone else returned to their activities.

But you felt bad for Bakugo. Yes, the blonde was a little intense and downright mean sometimes, but you knew what it felt like to crave something you didn't have. Especially when you physically buy that ‘something.' So, you decided to go out and get the angry Pomeranian a replacement packet.

Of course, given the fact that being empathetic was a common occurrence for you, the explosive hero wasn't at all surprised to see you walking toward the doors of the dorms with nothing but your wallet and a smile.

And he was not pleased.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the blonde, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Honestly, you were still shocked that he was still in his uniform, given he usually changes the moment he walks through the dorms. Not to mention, he even started wearing it properly, which was a feat in itself.

"Umm..."

"If you're about to say the damn store, I'll blow your ass to the moon," he threatened, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips.

"I'm just going to get you some more packets, okay? It's not a big deal," you said, your eyes softening. "I don't like seeing people upset, especially not over things that can easily be solved."

"Like hell, I'm upset!" He snapped, but the lack of bite in his voice gave him away.

You raised an eyebrow but kept your mouth shut. After knowing Bakugo for as long as you have, you've learned that the best way to deal with him is to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself—at least, all thoughts and opinions about him.

"I'll be back in an hour, okay?" You said, offering him a kind smile. "Is there anything else you need?"

Something about the look in your eyes and the kindness in your voice was enough to make the blonde falter, his resolve slipping. He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face.

But, since he didn't respond, you figured that was all you were going to get from him. So, you turned back around and headed for the doors, intent on leaving.

You hadn't gotten very far, however, when the sound of the couch squeaking alerted you. You turned your head just in time to see Bakugo jump over the back of the sofa, his slacks making a thud sound as he landed, snatching his phone off the coffee table before he headed in your direction.

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath, causing you to tilt your head, but before you could say anything, your wrist was being grabbed, and the front door was opening.

"If we're gonna get the damn ramen, then I'm coming with. It's annoying when people come back with the wrong shit, so it's better to go myself."

"Oh," you hummed, not expecting him to follow you. You smiled up at him, and the scowl on his face deepened. "Well, alright, then. The more, the merrier."

Bakugo grunted in response, dropping his grip on your wrist so he could shove his hands into his pockets. "Just keep up, alright? I don't want to wait for your slow ass."

With that, the blonde walked out of the dorms, and you were quick to follow.

For those twenty minutes, you couldn’t help but be amazed at how quiet the walk to the store was. Normally, Bakugo was yelling at someone for one reason or another. Whether it was because they were stupid, slow, or a bunch of other reasons that seemed to only make sense in his head, he was never silent.

But, currently, it was different. Bakugo wasn't talking, or yelling, or grumbling, or doing any of the things he normally does. He wasn't even walking fast, keeping his pace slow just enough so you could keep up.

He didn’t have a scowl on his face, either. He wasn’t smiling, of course, which would actually terrify you if he was, but there also wasn’t a sign of irritation or anger on his face.

In fact, he was the most relaxed you had ever seen him, his muscles not as tense as usual, and his posture was straight, yet not rigid. And his crimson eyes seemed to have a hint of softness in them, something that you had never noticed before.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized that the two of you had arrived at the store until the ash-blonde had started walking through the automatic doors, not waiting for you to catch up.

Shaking your head, you hurried inside, quickly scanning the store for a sign that pointed to the aisle where the ramen packets were. Bakugo was a couple of feet ahead of you, with a look of indifference on his face as he followed the sign. However, he stopped once he reached the right aisle and turned around to look at you.

"Hurry it up, nerd," he growled, his impatience getting the better of him.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile on your face. "I'm going, I'm going."

Bakugo didn't say anything as he turned back around and started walking through the aisles, and you were hot on his heels. Believe it or not, you were on a side mission, determined to not just grab the ramen for him.

He got distracted, and the two of you weren't in a hurry, so you went around and grabbed a few things that you knew your classmates had mentioned wanting. If you were going to take the time to go to the store, you might as well make it count.

After a few minutes, you ran into Bakugo, who had his arms full of different flavors of the ramen brand he liked. He took one singular glance at the contents of your basket and rolled his eyes.

"The hell are you getting all that shit for? I ain’t helping you carry anything."

"Well," you huffed, a pout on your face. He seemed to realize you were about to give him an entire speech because he immediately let out the most dramatic groan you had ever heard from him and began walking away.

You didn't care, though, and continued speaking, following him around the store.

"Well, I was just going to get the ramen and be done with it, but then I ran into Mina, who told me she was craving some 'chocolatey goodness,' which are her words, not mine," you explained, pulling out the package of chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Anyway, so, then I ran into Kirishima, who was complaining that there were no manly snacks in the pantry, and the last of his protein bars were eaten the other day, ironically also by Kaminari," you added, showing him the small box of protein bars. "So, I figured I'd get him some more and make sure Kaminari has his own snacks."

Bakugo groaned once more, still refusing to look at you. And, again, you ignored him and kept speaking.

"Also, Sero wanted more chips, and Koda was asking for some extra treats for the animals," you continued, showing him the chips and animal treats. "I didn't run into Midoriya, but he’s been awfully kind with his notes, so I'm pretty sure he would appreciate some gummies and pocky."

"Alright, I get it," Bakugo grumbled, a grimace on his face.

"Mineta also asked if I could grab him a new bag of limes, but I figured, after that little stunt he pulled in the changing room, that he doesn't deserve to have his gross habits indulged." You scoffed, trying to make a dramatic gesture but failing, given the items in your arms.

Bakugo paused in the middle of the aisle, turning around to finally face you, his arms still full. "You done?"

"Hey, you asked." You shrugged, a smile on your face. "I wasn't finished, though. Jiro wants more popcorn, Ojiro needs some more protein powder, Hagakure needs—"

"Is any of that shit even for you?" He cut you off, narrowing his eyes at you.

You pursed your lips and tilted your head. "No. Why?"

"You came all this way, wasting money on everyone else's crap, and didn't even think about grabbing shit for yourself?" He asked, his eyes narrowing further. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Um, well, no?" You answered although it came out as more of a question. "It's not a big deal. I was already going here, anyway."

Bakugo clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He walked forward and, without a word, dropped his armful of ramen onto your own. "Hold these."

Before you could protest, the ash-blonde walked past you and disappeared from view. Confused, you spun around and tried to follow him, but the sudden weight in your arms made it hard to move.

"Bakugo, wait up! I can't move!"

"Then stop moving, idiot." His voice was muffled by the shelves, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was. But, as if he had a sixth sense for things like this, Bakugo returned to the aisle, his arms full of random snack foods and drinks.

"What are you—"

"Shut up and follow me," he said, not letting you finish your sentence. You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp glare from the blonde made you close it.

Bakugo led you through the aisles and dropped the items onto the conveyor belt, much to the surprise of the cashier. The young girl didn't dare comment on the large pile of utter junk food, however, and merely rang it all up, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Once the total came up, you pulled out your wallet to hand the girl the money, not wanting Bakugo to waste any of his own money on you, but the blonde snatched the bills from your fingers before you could pay.

"Hey, what—"

"I said, shut up." He clicked his tongue and turned away, his back facing you. You could hear the rustle of his pockets as he fished out his own wallet, and you were quick to shake your head.

"Bakugo, the whole point of me coming here was so I could pay. You were the one who got his last packet stolen, so I was supposed to be paying for the new one, and—"

"Do you ever shut the hell up?" Bakugo interrupted, his voice gruff. He didn't turn around to face you, but his tone was enough for you to shut up. "I don't give a shit about the money. It's my own damn fault for letting that dunce face near my food, anyway."

"But—"

"And it's not like I need the money," he added, pulling a couple of bills from his wallet and handing them to the cashier. "My parents are loaded. It's not a big deal."

Way to show off, Blasty.

But you knew better than to say that. Instead, you closed your mouth, your eyes softening. It didn't make sense to you, though, because not only was he buying his own replacement ramen, but he was also buying an abundance of junk food, which, while tasty, wasn't for him or you.

It's always about repaying the favor with him, but this was just... unnecessary.

"Thank you," you said instead, knowing that he would only get irritated if you kept protesting. "That was... unexpectedly nice of you."

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he grumbled, picking up a few of the bags. He handed them to you, and you struggled to balance the weight, but you didn't complain. "It was your fault for being too damn nice."

You blinked, not sure if you were supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult. Either way, you didn't say anything and merely nodded. Bakugo didn't spare you a second glance as he grabbed the rest of the bags and began walking toward the exit.

"You coming, or what?" He called out, not looking back at you.

A smile grew on your face, and despite him not even looking at you, something told you he could sense the happiness radiating from you. You hurried forward, struggling a bit to balance the bags in your arms and keep up with Mr. Grumps, but the smile didn't leave your face.

"So... does this mean we're friends now?"

"The hell? No!"

"I think we are, Blasty."

"Don't call me that." He narrowed his eyes at you, but you merely giggled.

"Would you rather it be Kacchan? Kaminari's been using that one a lot lately."

"Call me that, and I'll blast you into the fucking sun."

"Blasty it shall be, then."

Needless to say, the walk back to the dorms was the complete opposite of the walk to the store. But, just as the silence between the two of you was comfortable then, the bickering and teasing and overall playful nature of the conversation was comfortable now.

Bakugo would never admit it, and you knew better than to ask, but he didn't have a problem with the nickname or the new friendship that blossomed between the two of you.

And you didn't have a problem, either.

[alexiroflife]

toji likes to eat…

🥢🥢🥢🥢

and i mean he likes to eat a lot. though he blows a lot of his funds regularly on races and unnecessary bids, toji will always find the means to spare some change for a meal. ALWAYS.

he’s a big guy with a big stomach. all that killing he does on the job, all the energy he exerts whipping his body around at an inhuman speed, works up an insanely inhuman appetite

before he’s heading home to you, he’s grabbing the two of you ramen, onigiri, sandwiches, yakitori, anything he can get his hands on and loads of it. he walks into the house with enough carry out to could feed a whole village

as much as toji enjoys eating, however, he’s somehow found that he likes to watch you eat even more

it sounds weird when he thinks about it or says anything about it out loud, but bringing you food has come to be one of his love languages

you have long days at work when toji is out on jobs, working tirelessly to provide for the both of you and to help with the kids as much as toji does the same. you’re always completely spent by the time he gets home, and just as hungry

the first time toji realizes he loves when you eat is when the two of you are sitting at the dining table, the kids over at satoru’s, and your shoving your face into the takeout he just brought back. he pauses his own eating for once, something he has never done, and watches you, amused

he’s not sure what’s so particularly special about the way you eat. maybe it’s the way you’re always so appreciative, thanking toji for bringing the two of you dinner when either of you are too tired to cook, big eyes eying the bags in his hand as though you’re going to tackle yourself into it. when you open the containers of food, steam rising into the air and the delicious scent filling your nose and grumbling your stomach, you look so excited

“looks so good, Toji!” you would say, smiling widely as though he’d brought you the moon in his palm. you never take your meals for granted, especially not the ones that toji buys for you, and it’s so cute. so endearing

toji can feel himself smiling when he studies your happy face, honored that he’s the person to bring that smile to you even if you’re just happy about a damn meal. to see you so thrilled over something so simple that he could do for the both of you has his heart squeezing

and then when you eat, when you eat something good, your eyes light up and your releasing little hums of satisfaction as you shove food into your mouth. you do a little dance too, swaying side to side and nodding to yourself. it’s fucking precious

he likes that you don’t care how you eat in front of him, or in front of anyone for that matter. he likes how you indulge yourself, taking advantage of the things that satisfy you without worrying about what people may think, what he may think. it only lets him know that you’re comfortable enough to be yourself around him

he likes that you nourish yourself well, if that makes any sense. he likes the idea that when you eat, you eat for your health and your pleasure. he likes the way you savor every bite and chew slowly, pretty lips puckered and your cheeks full. he can’t put a finger on it, but watching you eat, especially the food he brings you, is like being rewarded with your satisfaction

it makes his stomach feel warm, his sage eyes studying you carefully as you wipe your mouth with a napkin. he grins, having momentarily forgotten about his own meal, and you look at him confused

“what? something on my face?”

he chuckles softly, shaking his head. “not at all,” he tells you, lifting his chopsticks back up. “finish your food, doll”

and you do, of course. you finish it every time, whether you keep some as leftovers or eat it all in one sitting

and you always end a meal by leaning back with a smile, commending the food choice before hopping up to press a kiss to his cheek, thanking him

he may be a creep to be obsessed with such a mundane thing you do, but toji doesn’t care. watching you eat is watching you be taken care of, watching you be content, and it makes his heart full

just a thought ;)

[biteyoubiteme]

late shift

fem!reader x bangchan

synopsis: you and your virgin coworker Chan share a bed. 

warnings:🔞 !!! virgin!chan, whiny!chan, oral (m!rec), orgasm denial (m!rec), size kink if you squint, dom(ish) reader, praise, no protection, creampie, one bed trope, prob forgot some

wc: 3.77k

an: my first request! Thank you for submitting hope i did it justice lol also i lost the request i dont know where it went ;-; but i think i got everything you asked for

I used the line about ‘inviting someone back for ramen at your place’ synonymously with the term 'netflix and chill' I'm pretty sure that's the way the line is used in Korea. Correct me if I'm wrong lol. Anyways feedback appreciated :)) not proof read sorry! [m.list] 

You've been at your current job for a few years and every other Friday you and your coworkers go out for a drink or dinner depending on how heavy the workload had been the previous weeks. This Friday was one of those times, only most of your coworkers had taken a work trip to help secure a big account. The office was basically empty around the end of the day now, only your office light and the office across the hall was on. Chan, the owner of the space in front of yours, could be seen typing on his computer through the glass, one of the few who had opted out of the trip to be able to leave earlier. Only both of you hadn't been leaving the office at reasonable times even if it had been promised. your days were still just as long only now you were picking up the other's work while they were gone. it was a shit deal but neither of you would complain, too shy to bring it up to your boss who did in fact keep his word on letting himself out early. 

rubbing at your eyes you power off your laptop after looking at the time. if you didn't leave now to catch a streetcar you would have to walk home and you were too drained to do that. you start to pack up your things and across the way, you can see Chan doing the same, probably set to move when you did. he was always nice enough to wait every night until you got off to walk you to the stop sign to wait for your ride before he went across the street to catch a streetcar headed in the opposite direction. even without your other coworkers, he was always smiling at you from across the way waving as you left to head home. 

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to turn out the lights Chan was at the doorway giving a shy smile. “I'm a few seconds from collapsing on the floor and sleeping in my office,” 

“me too,” you flip off the lights, “and I'm starving I don't even think I have anything in my fridge,” 

Chan keeps pace with you as you make your way out of the building, reaching ahead of you to press the call elevator button “We could always keep the tradition going even if it's just the two of us, find a place for dinner?” 

“I don't know, not a lot of places are open at this hour and I want to eat on the couch and pass out,” you say hopping in after Chan when the elevator arrives. The space is small enough to have your elbows touching. Chan pressed the button for the lobby, “We could eat ramen at your place?” 

You are shocked to hear his suggestion and you assume he is too seeing at how he is bright red and stuttering, “No not like that- well kinda but just the food part- wait- I-,” he cuts himself off giving a flustered sigh, “I'm sorry i- we do not have to i'll just go home I'm sorry,” chan's rubbing at the back of his neck, ears red, eyes scrunched to avoid looking at anything at all because it would kill him to see your negative reaction. hell, it will kill him hearing you say no and push him away even if it was an innocent suggestion in the first place. he really didn't mean it that way he only wanted to hang out because he liked you and now he's gone and ruined that with a suggestion he didn't even fully intend to say in that way. 

Your giggle fills the silent elevator and you bump your shoulder against his arm, “It's okay Channie, it's definitely a perfect idea, ramen sounds so good, anything warm will send me straight to bed,” You find it cute how flustered he gets around the topic of sex. drinks out with coworkers leading to his confession months ago that he was inexperienced in bed, the flush on his cheeks as he begged the others not to ask him dirty questions. 

please you're joking Chan there is no way you haven't had sex yet! your defense of him that night only makes him like you more, who cares anyway? We should not be sharing bedroom talk with our coworkers. To know you are all kiss and tellers is an explanation enough as to why none of you get any when we go to bars. The conversation moved past Chan's Confession to laughs about how their coworkers had in fact picked up ladies from bars before. Chan had been thankful but the next morning when he remembered sharing he was a virgin in front of his crush was mortifying but you never brought it up again. 

you didn't really care that Chan was a virgin, finding out didn't make you like him any less than you already did. even if Chan had been asking to go back to your place to have sex you don’t think you would have turned him down. for as long as you worked in the office across from him you couldn't help but think about asking him out just the two of you but you had witnessed Chan turn someone down before in the breakroom. The way he smiled so sweetly as he said he didn't really like to date coworkers made you try and push the image of the two of you together away. you were friends and inviting him over was something friends did. 

“There is a convenience store across from my apartment, works out great,” you smile once you leave the elevator, “it won't be too late for you to head back home later?” 

“no northbound street cars run another lap, unlike the southbound ones I should make the last one,” the two of you ride to your place with polite small talk, and when you get off you cross the street to the store to pick up your dinner. 

It's the first time Chan has been in your small place, the one you haven't upgraded since you were in college because you didn't see the need for any more room but with Chan in the living room taking up most of the couch you wish you had. Both of you seated watching TV had your legs pressed together from the hip to the knee, his body heat overwhelmingly comfortable as you ate dinner. 

Neither of you realized you were beginning to fade, eyelids heavy as you tried to blink away sleep. When you realized you had dozed off, the TV was playing a movie that neither of you had put on, your head resting on Chan as he slumped over the armrest of the couch. you pick up your phone to check the time, the movement waking Chan up, “oh no it's so late,” you yawn pulling yourself up, “The last streetcar left an hour ago,” 

“shit,” Chan yawns, stretching out still in his button-up shirt, he had taken off his work coat when he came in but this was nothing he could sleep in. 

“it's okay you can stay but I have nothing for you to wear,” 

“I can walk it's okay-“

“You will not be walking all the way home. it's fine you can sleep in my bed I don't even think the couch is long enough for me to stretch out all the way,” 

“Then where will you sleep?” 

“the floor, it's okay,” you say waving him away to check to make sure your room is clean of clothes on the floor. you wave him over as he shakes his head, “No you're not sleeping on the floor in your own home, we can share I don't mind, or I'll Sleep on the floor,” 

“Fine, we can share,” You're too tired to argue, too tired to think about the fact that Chan is standing in the doorway as you turn around and pull out your oversized sleepshirt, shedding your work top and bra off. 

Chan is suddenly frozen fully awake watching you. He can only see your bare back turned to him, the image of your fingers unhooking your bra burned into his mind before you tug on the oversized shirt. but you're not done, the button of your work pants is undone, and at only sound in the room is the ripple of your zipper before you tug your pants down leaving you in your underwear. he cannot see them but he can see the outline through your white shirt, the black fabric hugging your ass as you pull the covers back to climb into the bed. “turn off the lights when you're ready,” your eyes already closed as you snuggle into the sheets. but Chan can't move. He is sure if you opened your eyes it would be very obvious that he was thinking about you lying in bed next to him almost naked. only two articles of fabric separating your completely naked form from him. 

he swallows the lump in his throat unbuttoning his work shirt, when it's gone he starts on his pants even taking them off to leave him in his underwear is enough to make him sigh. the pressure on his cock releasing just a bit but not enough to make him go soft. He's cursing at his body for making it so obvious he wants you. You're so natural at this, not even caring that he's climbing in bed next to you and he's a complete mess as he edges in on the far side of the bed trying not to make any contact at all as he turns the lamp off. 

in the dark, he tries to tell himself to calm down but it doesn't work, not when he can smell you on the sheets, when all he can think about is that if you touched yourself you would have to do it in this bed. 

You're not even thinking about anything besides falling asleep. You can hear Chan trying to get comfortable next to you, tossing and turning, the dip in the bed from his weight making you slide closer to him. you're barely touching him but he's gone still next to you, without thinking you roll your hips to try and pull away not wanting to make him uncomfortable but it does the opposite because you slide closer to him your ass pressed against his very prominent erection. 

if it wasn't for Chan's uneven breaths you would have thought he was asleep with how still and quiet he is. you wonder if you should pull away and ignore him, act like nothing was wrong, that you did not feel anything at all, and that you were asleep already and it was an accident. but the heat of him makes you wet, just the idea of rubbing back against him sends you into overdrive. you move your hips again to hear the soft whine Chan lets out, he's so close to your ear that it makes the sound amplified. 

Chan reaches out, his palm wrapping around your hip and you brush against him again. His whine is louder, a weak, “I'm Sorry,” mixed in with the sound. Chan's hips bump forward looking for more friction but you can tell he's trying to hold himself back with how hard he's holding you. “it's okay,” you whisper grinding back into his strained thrusts. 

“ill stop, I swear,” but he can't bring himself to listen to anything he says, the feel of your ass against him is so much better than when he ruts against his pillow at home. You're so warm, so firm, and he can't help himself. Chan's movements are jerky as he presses himself against you, the thin material of his underwear making him groan in annoyance. 

“You don't have to stop,” you mutter, encouraging him with each roll of your hips against him. “if you want I can use my hands,” 

The thought alone would have made Chan cum if he hadn't pulled himself away from you, rolling on his back and whining from denying himself. 

you sit up next to him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut, hair a mess on his forehead before he runs his hands through it grabbing the strands and pulling at them. He's panting hard, the rise and fall of his chest catching your attention. You've never seen Chan shirtless, you didn't know that underneath the suit he wears he is completely ripped. Your mouth waters with the need to lick him up and down, to kiss him, if he let you suck him off it would be a very good night. “If you don't want me to use my hands I could use my mouth,” Chan whines again, a weak thrust of his hips into the air at your words. you lean down until your lips are next to his ear, “If you don't want my mouth I could let you use me in other ways,” he's fully humping the air now, fists made in the sheets. 

“I don't- I've never…” he shakes his head finally opening his eyes. pupils were blown looking for you to understand, “I want to be good for you but I don't know how,” 

“I can show you,” your lips brushing his as you whisper it, “only if you want me to,” 

“I do!” he nods, “I want you, I've wanted you so fucking bad for too long,” 

you kiss him and he could shatter at the seams from finally getting to taste you. Chan has made out with people before, he knows he's a good kisser, what he's worried about is everything else. but with your lips on him, he's a little less worried. breaking the kiss you move to straddle his abdomen, kissing down his jaw as he throws his head back. He can't control his thrusts anymore, searching for friction where you're purposefully not giving him. “patience Channie,” you say between nips at his neck, his whines in response but you shake your head. “I know you're needy but it will feel better with foreplay,” 

he nods as you work down his collarbones, reaching his nipples as you slide down his body. you lick down his chest and abs, circling his navel and following a line down to his waistband. The cold air hits the line you've made down him and Chan moans at the feeling, goosebumps rising over his arms. He wants to touch you, peel your shirt away, and finally see more than just your bare back. almost as if you can read his thoughts you sit up placing your ass on his thighs before pulling off your shirt. nipples pebbling from the air, Chan's hands fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are bloodless. 

“If you're good next time I'll let you lick me the way I did for you,” Chan whines almost painfully before you lean down moving back until you are face to face with his clothed bulge. already a dark spot on the fabric from his precum. “Let me know if you're about to cum okay?” 

Chan nods head lifting to watch as you lean forward and kiss over where he's straining in his underwear. his hips try to chase your mouth when you pull away and you tisk at him, “Patience Chan I shouldn't have to tell you twice,” 

“I can't help it,” he moans, your fingers hooked into the elastic around his waist pulling the fabric down his legs, his cock heavily slapping against his stomach. every vein prominent, ruddy tip swollen and begging to be kissed. you gather the spit in your mouth before letting it drop down against his length. If you are going to fit it in you're going to have to take the time to stretch yourself out so it won't hurt. For now, you wrap your hand around him, giving him a few shallow pumps, his moans of approval the only sound in the room. you let Chan thrust into your hand when he doesn't like your pace but you completely pull away when he says, “I'm going to cum im-“ he whines so loud at missing his release, your lips on his thigh as you use your hands to hold his hips back from coming up off the mattress. 

“no please, please I want to cum, please,” he begs, trying to rut in the air but you shake your head. 

“You have to wait pretty boy, you can hold out a little more right?” but he doesn't get to answer when you lick up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip. 

Chan has never been so noisy in his life, he's never wanted, no needed, to cum so bad. when you fully take him into your mouth he sees spots in his vision, the coiling in his pelvis intensifying. he doesn't want to tell you but like you're sucking the words right out of him he whimpers, “cumming im-,” but it's ripped away from him again and he's on the verge of tears. he won't be able to last any longer not like this, when every brush of your fingers on him makes him twitch. he lets go of the death grips he has on the sheets pushing himself up be rolls the two of you over. 

you're shocked as he pins you down, his face pressed into your neck whimpers tickling your skin. “please, can I cum inside you?” his cock is rubbing against your covered center, and he can feel that the fabric is wet with your arousal, knows he must be doing something right when your soft moans come every time he rubs against your clit. 

you nod knowing you won't be able to say no to him, not when you want him this bad. “take my panties off,” Chan listened, not waiting a moment to follow your order. when they are gone he's stopped by the sight of you. laid out for him glistening, you reach down using two of your fingers to make a v pushing open more of yourself so he can see. Chan watches as you drag your fingers through your wetness, and whines as he watches you dip a finger into your entrance.“you listen so well Channie if you keep listening I'll let you taste me,” 

chans weak in the knees at your words, he wants nothing more than to please you, to hear you say nice things to him over and over, to finally let him sink into your warm heat. “please,” it's so quiet you almost miss it. 

“Grab your cock in your hand,” he does as you say, “then lean over me and run the length of you in my wetness kinda like you were doing before okay?” he nods and when he plants his hand next to your head he looks down to watch what he's doing. both of you moaning as he rubs against your clit, he could just stop here, he knows just this will make him cum without a second thought but you won't let him. “drag your tip down until it catches if you miss ill help you, okay?” 

but Chan doesn't need your help, the head of his cock prodding your entrance, his hips jerking knowing he's so close to feeling all of you, “you're doing so good,” you hum brushing your fingers through his hair, “slowly push in I won't be able to take it all unless you go slow,” 

Chan pushes in following your instructions. he's hardly in when he's shaking, you feel so fucking good, warm, and just right. he will never be able to imagine taking you while he's alone again, his hand won't cut it anymore, not after this. 

his moan is guttural as he fully seats himself inside you, your hips meeting his. chans so deep you can swear he's touching your womb, your hands wrap around his shoulders, both of you catching your breath, “you have to move slow, warm me up a little before you can trust harder,” Chan nods but he doesn't know if he will be able to last long enough to make himself go any faster. Your warm walls feel so fucking good he could cum without moving at all, but he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. You're so wet it's easy to find a steady pace. 

“Just like that Channie,” you moan and Chan whines at the praise, he wants to be perfect for you, as perfect as you've been for him and he can't control himself, his hips sinking hitting you deeper than you felt before. 

you moan loudly as he brushes your gummy stop making you see stars, “your hand, use your hand on my clit,” you whimper and when Chan's fingers find the perfect spot he feels you clench around him. he gives a shocked moan not realizing you could feel any better, his orgasm so close he presses his fingers harder against you, your shocked gasp music to his ears. you didn't think you would cum seeing as it was his first time but you're right on the cusp when you hear his pants, “I'm going to cum, please, I need to cum, let me cum in you,” he begs eyes watching where the two of you connect. 

“you've been so good to me,” your words making his stomach flex, balls tightening, and you can feel him twitch inside you, “cum for me Channie,” 

he cries out as he finishes, hot ropes of cum spilling inside you making you follow right after him. The fluttering of your cunt makes him whine sinking in deeper letting his body weight fall on you as he pumps more cum deep inside you. 

never has he cum so hard or this much, never did he think it would feel this amazing. 

Chans is lying on top of you, both of you sweaty and panting. your fingers comb his hair back from his forehead, scratching his scalp until he's humming. you can feel his softening cock inside you, his hips twitching every once in a while. Neither of you moves, only enjoying the feel of each other. “Did you mean what you said?” Chan asks and you scrunch your brows. “what?” 

“about next time? that there would be a next time.” 

you giggle pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Yes if you're good there will be a next time,” but you can feel Chan twitch inside you already growing hard again. 

[animamii]

letter from lockedup!Toji that goes along with this drabble ‎♡‧₊˚

...Beautiful, I just want you to know; you're my favorite girl...

— Beautiful~~Snoop dogg + Pharrel

‎

Hey, princess.

Got your letter today. Been reading it over and over, like I always do. I swear, these pages are the only thing keeping me sane in here. When everything else in this place feels like it’s closing in, I got your words, your handwriting, the way I can almost hear your voice saying all this to me. It keeps me steady. Keeps me from losing my head.

And that picture you sent? Fuck. You tryin’ to kill me in here? I swear, if these walls weren’t in the way, I’d be home already. You look good, baby. Too good. Almost makes me mad that other people get to see you like this when I can’t. But I know you’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.

You don’t even gotta try, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sitting there, all sweet, all perfect. Makes me crazy knowing I can’t reach out and touch you, pull you into me, feel your skin, hear you laugh in my ear. It ain’t fair. But I guess nothing ever has been for me. Except you. You’re the one thing in this world that ever felt like it was mine. I don’t say this enough, probably don’t say half the shit you deserve to hear, but I need you to know that. You ain’t just my girl. You’re my peace, my home, the only thing I’ve ever been afraid to lose. And that’s saying something.

I laughed when I read about Megumi and his damn ramen obsession. Stubborn little punk. I wonder where he gets it from. (Yeah, yeah, don’t say shit—I know.) Tell him I said to listen to his stepma, eat a real meal, and quit acting like he doesn’t miss me. I know how he is. Pretends he don’t care, but I bet if I walked through that door tomorrow, he’d be the first one running to me. He won’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes. Just like his old man. Make sure he’s eating real food, alright? He might act like he don’t care, but I know he listens to you. Probably more than he ever listened to me.

And you. You better be taking care of yourself too. Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking care of yourself? I know how you get—running around, worrying about everyone else, not stopping to breathe. You always got so much to worry about, but you forget you’re supposed to take care of you too. I don’t wanna hear that you’re running on empty, staying up too late, stressing yourself out. You always act tough, but I know you, baby. I know when you’re holding too much inside. I know when you need me. And I swear to you, I’m coming back.

You tell me you’ll wait. That you don’t care how long it takes. But, baby, I care. Every second in here is a goddamn eternity. Every night I go to sleep thinking about you, and every morning I wake up counting down the days until I can get back to you. And I will. No matter what I gotta do, no matter how long it takes, I will get home to you.And when I do? You better be ready. Because I’m never letting you out of my sight again. You hear me? You’re stuck with me, forever.

Wait for me just a little longer. I love you. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.

Toji

[angelfic]

— IT’S SO SWEET

pairing: jason todd x best friend!reader

summary: the 3 times jason takes care of you and the 1 time he lets you do the same. alternatively, jason thinks he's invincible, but his best friend needs to be protected at all costs.

warnings: unedited. again. pls don't kill me. swearing, kissing, mentions of blood/weapons/injuries, mentions of periods, reader is a nursing student, best friends to lovers!!! <3

author’s note: *shoves it at you* another one of these fics with the same format, this time with jason :) listen to 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex while reading this btw. and let me know what you think!! drop an ask or a message, don’t be shy!💌

1. when finals are going to kill you.

Sometimes you think being a vigilante like your best friend is worth the constant risk of dying if it means you never have to open another textbook again. When you voice this to Jason, he scowls like you've just threatened to kill a kitten in front of him.

"That's not funny. Don't even joke about that," he scolds, still frowning at you from the opposite end of your kitchen island. His Red Hood suit is sprawled out in front of him as he stitches up a loose hem, compliments of the last goon he most likely beat to a pulp. You make a face at the fact that his sleeve is covering your anatomy notes, ignoring the way he leans down in attempt to catch your eye. He resorts to snapping his fingers in your face. "Hey. Hey, I'm serious."

"Jason," you sigh, setting down your pen and resting your chin on your hand as you talk to him. "I'm studying for nursing school finals in my kitchen, because I didn't want to walk the five more steps it takes to get to my bedroom after making instant ramen. Do you really need me to tell you I'm not being serious about becoming a vigilante?"

His shoulders relax very slightly, but his expression stays annoyed. "You're going to give me an entire head of grey hair before I'm even thirty."

"Well, at least we know it'll suit you," you say through a yawn as you point to the white streak running through his hair. "So, if anything, you're welcome."

He gives you another withering glare, going back to his stitching. The tiny needle in his large hand distracts you for a minute until you realise that Jason has stopped sewing and you're actually staring into nothing now. He notices your eyes that have glossed over and immediately reaches over to slam your textbook shut, startling you back to attention. It isn't until he does this that you feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, emphasised by the knot in your neck and the cramp in your writing hand.

Jason drags your textbook away from you, along with your notes. You take a second to appreciate how careful he is not to crease the pages, knowing you'd lose your mind. "Okay, you're done for today."

"Huh?" you mumble stupidly, his words registering in your mind too late and you realise he's just hijacked your study material. "Wh- Hey! Give it back, Jay, I have-"

"Finals, I know. Last I checked, you need to be alive to take finals and I don't see that happening unless you take a nap," he says, voice a little too calm for someone who you're about to pounce on and claw at until you get your textbook back. You sluggishly clamber off your stool and step in front of Jason, who immediately raises his arm to hold your textbook out of reach.

You look up at him and attempt an intimidating glare. "Hand over the textbook, Todd."

Jason raises his eyebrows, huffing out an exasperated laugh. "Lift one of your arms to get the book and its yours."

Your finger doesn't so much as twitch, but you sway a little until you reluctantly accept that maybe he's won this one. And maybe a nap does sound pretty good right now, you think with a groan, dropping your head so it rests on Jason's chest. Your arms hang floppily at your sides. "I'll kick your ass after my nap," you mumble into his shirt.

"I'm terrified," he deadpans, and you hear the thud of the textbook on the counter before his large hands come up to grip your waist so he can walk you backwards to your couch, knowing you well enough to anticipate your grumbles if he were to attempt to take you all the way to your bedroom. You smile into his chest.

"You've met your match, Red," you say as dramatically as you can for someone who's practically the equivalent to a sack of potatoes against Jason right now. When you feel the back of your legs hit the couch, you grip onto the bottom of Jason's shirt and tug at the fabric before he can let you go. "You're my human pillow, where do you think you're going?"

Before he can answer, you nudge him onto the couch and he obediently lies down so you can nestle in next to him and plop your head back onto his warm, muscled chest. You blame your exhaustion for your shameless behaviour.

Despite the tiredness, you can't help irritating Jason just a little bit more. "Hey, Jay. What would my vigilante name be?"

"Shut up," he says without any bite, resting his chin on top of your head. You snicker into his shirt, half delirious with fatigue but awake enough to feel his face moving as he smiles when he thinks you're not looking.

"Something cool. Like Nightwing," you mutter sleepily, poking the bear.

"What? Nightwing is not as cool as-" Jason starts incredulously, but cuts himself off. "Whatever. Go to sleep."

You hum, eyelids feeling heavy and you start drifting off, the last thing you register being Jason's fingertip tracing circles on your back.

When you wake up, Jason and his suit are gone, but you have a blanket tucked around you and a box of your favourite cookies on the coffee table.

2. when, apparently, you aren't immune to the streets of gotham.

Considering you live in the most corrupt city in the world, you probably should be a little more cautious about going out at night. It's not like you don't take precautions, though. Like every woman in Gotham, you're loaded with pepper spray every time you leave the house. Unlike every woman in Gotham, you also have multiple vigilantes in your phone with whom you share your location with.

Even then, you aren't stupid enough to step into any alleyways. You wish that were enough to stay out of trouble, but as soon as you realise the streets have completely emptied while you've been distracted with your thoughts, you start panicking a little.

You're fine, you reassure yourself as you slide your phone out your pocket to pull up your recent texts. You keep your screen open just for some reassurance, gripping the sides of your phone tightly when you hear some distant footsteps.

It's only ten more minutes to the convenience store, so you're more irritated than scared when you hear the footsteps quicken behind you, catching up. Your fingers fumble to text an SOS to Jason, but you accidentally tap send on your chat with Dick instead. With slightly shaky hands, you try and send one to Jason as well, hoping it's gone through when your phone is suddenly knocked out of your hand.

"Oh, for the love of-" you hiss, when you hear the cracking noise of your screen against the pavement and you don't risk reaching down to grab it. Instead, you turn around slowly to face a dark figure, clad in a cliche, all-black outfit and stood in a threatening stance. God, you hate Gotham.

"Hand over your-"

"Wallet, money, most prized possession," you cut the man off, probably very stupidly. "I know the drill, hang on."

He falters for a moment before anger clouds his expression and he pulls out a knife before you can get your wallet out. You try not to sigh in relief. For anyone else that might sound crazy, but knives you could manage. Being best friends with Jason Todd means of course you've been made to learn self-defence. Disarming someone with knives was doable enough to learn as a nursing student. Guns, on the other hand, are out of your league.

The fact that you know how to defend yourself doesn't make the knife look any less threatening and sharp, though.

"Hey, look, I'm not gonna be difficult," you say, dropping your voice to a low murmur as though you're trying to coax a cat out of a tree. "I'll give you my money."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do that," he rushes out, sounding confused. You kind of feel bad for him. Most people confronted with a mugger would probably be a lot more scared than you're acting and it's clearly throwing him off his game. You almost regret bothering to send your SOS and as you're thinking about how you're going to apologise to Dick for wasting his time, you go to grab your wallet to try and stall before the mugger becomes violent. "Stop! Put your hands up. I'll grab it myself."

You furrow your brows, about to argue that no, he fucking won't. But you see that the man's face suddenly becomes ten times paler than before and he's looking behind you instead. Your shoulders sag with relief as you spin around to see Nightwing in all his black and blue glory.

"Is there a problem, ma'am?" he lowers his voice an octave and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. He seems to be focusing hard on acting like strangers, because anyone with eyes would see the problem very clearly in the form of a man wielding a knife.

"Please, help me," you respond, drily. Dick raises a brow at your flippant attitude, so you clear your throat, kicking it up a notch. You glance at the man behind you and try to look more terrified than you feel. "Please help me, Mr Nightwing. This guy's got a knife, and he's going to stab me with it."

The man frantically shakes his head, dropping the knife immediately and backing up. "I wasn't! I swear, man, I was just trying to scare her. Look, I'll just-"

"Hey." You hear another familiar voice boom, this time through a modulator. You sigh, lifting your head to see Jason, all the more threatening as Red Hood. His guns are already in either hand by his side and you have to respect the mugger for not passing out where he stands. If you didn't know it was Jason behind that mask, you'd be terrified to death. He tilts his head, evaluating the man. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere, I-"

"Exactly," Jason's warped voice comes out tight, and you hear the cocking of his gun, making you whip around to send a panicked look to Dick. He runs closer to you and you drop your voice to a whisper.

"I've got Hood, you take care of the guy."

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, not unkindly and the two of you snap into action.

You run back over to the mugger and step in front of him, making Jason falter in his movements and lower his gun. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths like he's exercising real control. "Move."

You stay as still as possible, arms splayed out in an attempt to cover the man behind you, despite the fact that Jason definitely possesses the skill to take him out even with you in the way.

"Put your guns away," you hiss when Dick has successfully restrained the man out of earshot and is dragging him away with ease. Jason steps towards them, but you stay in his way, using both hands against his chest to stop him. It's more of a symbolic gesture than anything, since you know you wouldn't be able to budge him an inch even if you threw yourself at him with full force. He stops anyway, looking down at you with his hands gripping his firearms tightly. "He was practically harmless. Let Nightwing deal with him. Please."

You're talking him down, trying to waste time so Dick can leave before Jason is able to do anything. You know you've succeeded when he tucks away his weapons, albeit reluctantly. Dick is too far away with the man now, anyway.

"What the hell were you doing out at this time?" he says, raising his voice instead of the usual quiet, deadly anger he reserves for the people who deserve it. It's how you know he's worried, when he doesn't try and control his temper. "And without dropping me a text first, so I could check on you? You do understand where you live, right?"

"Don't yell at me!" Your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence and you feel your lower lip tremble slightly. Jason stills. You refuse to cry, cursing your damn hormones and the fact you're a woman and the fact that you're cramping again. You aren't in the mood to talk to Red Hood right now. You want Jason. "And turn off your stupid voice thing!"

He obliges quickly, stepping closer to you. You're angry at one less thing now that his voice is back to normal. "I'm sorry for yelling. Please don't be upset with me, I was just worried-"

"You were going to kill that guy."

"Damn straight," he fires back, defensive again.

You glare at him and he has enough sense not to speak further. Shaking your head, you let out a frustrated groan. "He was a lousy mugger. That hardly deserves a bullet through the head."

"Are you forgetting that he had a knife?" he exclaims, throwing his hands up. Suddenly, as though he's remembering something, Jason folds his arms across his chest. "Why'd you call D- Nightwing for help first?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. How about next time, I'll ask the guy with the a knife if he can hold off for a second while I select the right contact number!" you grit out, hit with another wave of cramps, extremely tired of this conversation. "It was an accident, you idiot. I meant to text you first."

You can't see Jason's expression beneath his Red Hood mask and you aren't going to ask him to remove it in the middle of the streets, but you imagine he's mollified with the way his shoulders relax a bit.

Huffing, you walk away to get your phone, gingerly picking it up to inspect the newly made cracks all over. You vaguely register Jason standing over your shoulder before you shove your phone in your pocket, a problem for tomorrow. You turn around to face him and clutch at your lower stomach, breathing turning shallow.

"I was on my way to the convenience store," you explain, gritting your teeth. "I assume you're coming with me now?"

"Why did you need to go so late?" he questions, typically not letting it go. Instead of responding, you screw your eyes shut and puff out a few pained breaths. He immediately grips your shoulders and begins inspecting you. "What? Are you hurt? What happened, did he get you?"

"I have cramps, you ass," you groan, shoving his hands away. He ceases looking for an injury, and you don't need to ask him to remove his mask to know that he's relieved. "I was going to the store so late because I'm out of my sanitary products."

"Oh," Jason says gruffly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice due to his excessive worry. "Well, I kept a whole box of pads and stuff from the other month in my apartment. It's closer, come on."

You sag with relief, dragging your feet to follow him as the two of you walk to his place. You're in his apartment so often that you're not surprised it's stocked up with period products as well as your usual things for when you stay the night. You feel a funny little flip that has nothing to do with cramps when you consider how he kept everything.

"Do you need me to carry you?" Jason asks, completely serious, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I know how bad the cramps can get."

"I took some meds a couple hours ago, they're not the worst yet," you explain, shaking him off and trying not to think about him offering to carry you all the way to his apartment just because you have cramps.

You reach his complex quickly and he sends you up while he enters through the fire escape from a back alley as not to expose Red Hood's living quarters. By the time you've entered through his door, Jason is already there, judging by his helmet sitting on his kitchen counter.

"Be out in a second," he calls from his bedroom and so you flop down on his couch, face down in one of the cushions as you try to think about something other than the sharp needles stabbing your lower belly. He walks out while you're writhing in pain and sets down some pads, two painkillers and a glass of water on the coffee table. "Here, take them now and go sleep in the bed. There's some snacks in my nightstand if you get hungry. Do you need me to stay home?"

You reluctantly turn over onto your back and see that he's also holding your fluffy panda hot water bottle. You might combust, there and then. Pouting, you reach out for the panda, grabbing it to hold it close to your body and sighing at the slight pain relief. "I'm okay, you can go back to patrol. Thanks for looking after me, Jaybird."

"It's nothing," he shrugs, turning away to hide the pink flush appearing on his cheeks and grabbing his helmet. He shoves it on quickly and you try not to let out an unattractive snort of laughter. He turns on his voice modulator. "Text me if you need anything."

With that, he slips out of his window, making sure to shut it tightly behind him. You stay on the couch after knocking down a couple of painkillers  and try to entertain yourself with some TV while you wait for Jason to come back.

You mournfully scroll through your phone, trying not to cut your fingers on the broken glass. The actual phone seems to be giving up on you as it takes forever to click on one thing to the next. Giving up, you toss it on the table and close your eyes. Making make a mental list in your head of things to do tomorrow, you add buying a new phone to it and prepare to say goodbye to a healthy chunk out of your bank account.

You don't remember dozing off, but your alarm startles you awake and you grab around for it on the nightstand next to you. Turning it off, you decide to brave the world outside the comfy sheets and realise you're in Jason's bed. He must have gotten back late and put you there, you think with a smile, suddenly happier than you were when first waking up. This happy attitude sours a bit when you nick ur finger on the broken glass of your phone screen trying to turn off the rest of your alarms.

Making your way out of his room and following the smell of toaster waffles, you see Jason plating up some breakfast for you. "Morning," you yawn, plopping down on a kitchen stool. "How was patrol?"

"Same old," he says, giving you the usual, non-descriptive answer. For all you know, he could have taken down an entire drug ring single-handedly and you'd be none the wiser. He sets down a plate in front of you, as well as a rectangular box. "Here."

You inspect the box, confused and wanting to focus more on the food before you process what it is and your jaw drops. "Jason Peter Todd. What the hell did you do!"

"Your phone broke," he says, gruffly, clearly trying to downplay the fact that he bought you a brand new smartphone, a later model than the one you already have. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Of course I'm going to make a big deal, Jay," you say, frowning. "I was going to get one myself today. Why did you waste your money on me? How much was it?"

"Don't worry about it," he says flippantly, plating up his own waffles. You should have known better than to ask. There's no way he's taking money from you.

You sigh, shoving your waffles and the phone out of the way to make your way over to him. "Jay," you say softly, grabbing his face in your hands. His eyes widen slightly and you fight the urge to smile. "I can't accept it."

"I said it was nothing," he replies, furrowing his brows and you release his face in favour of hugging him instead. "And it's not a waste if it's on you. You're taking the phone."

"It's everything," your voice comes out muffled by his hoodie. The cost of a phone really is nothing to Jason. It wouldn't have made even the slightest dent to his bank account, but that's not the point. "You need to let me take care of you for once. Oh, one more thing."

He hums in question, resting his chin on your head and wrapping his hands around you.

"If you buy anything for me again, I'm cutting a heart shaped hole in your suit."

Jason huffs out a laugh and you feel the vibration through his chest. "What about the coffee I get you after class every Friday?"

You stay silent.

He snorts, knowing he's got you. He drops a kiss on your head and grins when you look up to frown at him. "That's what I thought."

3. when this guy just won't take a hint.

Jason owes you big time. You've had the longest week of your life and yet here you are, in a floor length, dark red dress and heels, for crying out loud.

Realistically, this is the least you could do for him, showing up to a gala thrown by his father to keep him company. You're more than happy to do this as a favour to him, but that fact doesn't make the heels pinch at your toes any less.

"I haven't worn this dress since high school," you grumble, twisting it around your waist where it fits snugly. You're thankful for the fact that it falls loosely past your waist, or you'd have ripped it from your body by now. "If I eat one thing, it might actually tear."

"I'll give you my jacket when you spot the appetisers," Jason says, absentmindedly. You squeeze his bicep gently in thanks from where your arm is looped in his as he leads you into the venue. "Anyway, we'll be in and out, as always. Just making an appearance for Bruce."

"In and out," you repeat, lowering your voice as the two of you enter a more populated area. You know even though Jason moans about these events, he wouldn't be here if he really didn't want to be. He cares, even though he'd never admit it.

Groups of businessmen, celebrities, entrepreneurs; basically a bunch of rich people who are dressed in clothes that are definitely more expensive than your rent are milling about, every one of them with a drink in their hand. Their unwavering smiles and the constant trips to the bar are nothing new and you wrinkle your nose at the atmosphere of the place. "Do they even know what charity Bruce is throwing this for?"

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Bruce could be throwing this thing for homeless badgers and they'd be none the wiser," he mutters, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Rolling his neck, he takes a deep breath. "I should go say 'hi' to him, while he's talking to a bunch of people. Prove that I actually showed up. You wanna come?" 

You almost agree, not wanting to be left alone, but just before you reluctantly trudge over to a group of Bruce's boring business associates, you thankfully spot Jason's brothers by the bar. "I'll just go hang out with Dick and Tim, is that okay? I can come with though, if you want."

"Nah, go ahead," he says, detangling his arm from yours and giving you a reassuring smile. "Come grab me when they start getting annoying."

"Be nice," you warn, gently shoving him towards the group of men as you make your way to Dick and Tim.

"Hey," Tim greets you with a smile, glancing up quickly before returning to his phone. He does a little double take, eyes snagging on your dress and his smile turns devious. "Well, you look nice. You're wearing a very... nice colour..."

"Tim," you heave a deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes, but he can't help the corners of his lips quirking up. "You can't keep doing this every time I wear red."

"I'm not doing anything, just making an observation," he shrugs, rocking back and forth on his heels in an attempt to look casual. Tim glances around to see make sure no one is in earshot before lowering his voice. "Hey, totally unrelated, but I heard Jaybird nearly shot a guy for almost mugging you."

"Tim."

"Leave her alone," Dick intervenes before Tim can needle you further. He definitely enjoys it too, but ever the golden boy, he seemingly wants to keep the peace. "How are you doing after that, anyway?"

"Fine," you nod reassuringly. "Thank you, again for showing up, Dick. I really appreciate it."

"Don't be silly, it's-"

"I heard he got you a brand new phone, too," Tim pipes up, cutting his brother off.

"Tim," you groan, thwacking him in the arm with your clutch. He barely flinches. "For the last time, Jason and I are just friends."

Tim opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes dart behind you and he thinks better of it, choosing to just smirk like the troublemaker he is.

"That's good news." You whip around to locate the source of the voice, finding yourself looking at a guy you've never met before. He seems to be around your age, dressed smart and very rich looking. You stand there stupidly.

"For who?" you ask, chuckling nervously.

He shrugs, giving you a charming smile. "Anyone who wants to buy you a drink. May I?"

Understanding dawns on you and you glance at Dick and Tim with wide eyes, feeling a little awkward that they're here for this interaction. Dick keeps his expression carefully neutral as he considers the man, whereas Tim frowns when he meets your eyes, jerking his head as subtly as possible in Jason's direction.

This has you glaring at him and just to prove a point, you plaster on a wide smile of your own and return your attentions to the stranger. "Yes. You may."

The two of you walk closer to the end of the bar and away from the others. You pointedly don't look at them. "What was your name?" you ask the stranger, mostly for the sake of being polite.

"George." A rich guy name, you think to yourself. If Jason were here, you know he'd have a million things to say.

He asks your name and you give it to him as he orders you a drink without actually asking what you want.

"Pretty name," George remarks, handing you a glass of something you've never had before. You pretend to take a sip, smiling in thanks. "So, what's your story?"

You try not to outwardly cringe at the question, sorely regretting tonight's decisions despite the fact you've been here less than half an hour. "I'm just here to keep my friend company." You keep the story short, not bothering to explain how you know the Wayne family.

"Ah, well. I dont blame you for looking so bored. I'm just here because I have to be as well," he mutters, swirling the contents of his glass. "Business connections and such."

"Oh." You find yourself being less and less interested in this conversation. "Do you know what the fundraiser tonight is for?"

"God, no," George laughs, taking a sip of his drink. You try your hardest not to grimace, mentally checked out of the conversation already. "It's always the same shit, anyway. Forget all that. Drink up and we can get out of here."

You nearly choke on your own saliva at his sheer confidence and set down your drink. "I really shouldn't. I'm, uh, I'm okay staying here."

"Aw, come on," he leans in a little closer than you'd like and you try to look as imperceptibly as you can for Dick or Tim, but it seems they've left you to face the consequences of your own actions. Traitors. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself. What, you don't like me-?"

"Hey." You feel Jason's presence at the same time as hearing his voice. You almost laugh at how relieved you suddenly feel and you and relax into his hold when he places both hands on your waist. Jason drops his voice to a murmur that only you can hear. "Ready to go home?"

You nod, turning to leave. About to bid a quick goodbye to George as not to be rude, you open your mouth but get stopped in your tracks.

"She's fine right here, man," George says, voice as smooth as glass. If the glass is shattered into sharp, pointy spikes that are as uncomfortable as this conversation, that is.

Jason's previously polite smile hardens as his front is now practically plastered against your back. "She can talk for herself."

"She was actually just-"

"She's right here," you interrupt, squirming out of Jason's arms to step back. He drops his hands immediately, but doesn't look at you. Instead, he assesses George through a narrow eyed gaze. You can't decide if George is being brave, or stupid for not cracking under the weight of Jason's intense glare as he stands there, all six foot two of him posing a threatening picture. "Right, well. I'm just going to-"

"Hey, hold on," George says, averting his all-too arrogant gaze back to you and gripping your upper arm, jerking you slightly. You flinch a little when he moves into your personal space. "You aren't going to give me your number?"

His grip doesn't hurt, but it's a world away from gentle and you almost gape at the fact he doesn't seem to be aware of how uninterested you are.

Jason immediately clocks this, stepping forward. "Yeah, I don't fucking think so," he says darkly and then he shoves at George. Hard.

The people nearest to you gasp and titter when they see George careening into the stools at the bar and you slap a hand over your mouth, shocked. Shocked that Jason had actually gotten violent as Jason and not as Red Hood. All over a random creep, no less.

Before George even has the chance to recover from the surprise of Jason's brute force, you pull harshly on Jason's suit jacket, steering him out of the venue and into the hall. He follows you without protest, still breathing heavily.

"What the hell was that?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, despite being alone out in the entrance hall.

"He grabbed you," Jason says slowly, as if he's confused as to why you're upset. His expression is tight, like he's being careful to control his anger even now that you're away from George. "I would have done a lot fucking worse to him if you hadn't dragged me out of there."

"You cannot go all Red Hood when you're Jason! It's suspicious as hell. Not to mention how you were practically back-hugging me like some sort of reverse bulletproof vest."

"I always do that," Jason says, calmly. The fact that he isn't raising his voice just spurs you on to raise yours higher. The multitude of emotions swirling around in a confused whirl around your stomach makes you nauseous.

"You hate being touchy in public," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Last month, you punched Tim in the stomach for putting his arm around your shoulder. Anyway, that's not the point! You're so occupied with trying to take care of everyone that you never consider yourself. Or let anyone else do so. Yeah, that guy was an asshole. But he was just an asshole trying to talk to a single girl. He wasn't some... some crime boss or villain or evil freaking mastermind for you to take down!"

"I don't need looking after. And he didn't know you were single," Jason scoffs, running a hand through his neatly combed hair, mussing it up. If you weren't so irritated, you'd take a moment to appreciate how much you prefer it when he looks like this. Real and raw, like the current expression on his face rather than closed off and emotionless. "You came here on my arm, wearing my colour, like Tim's always fucking going on about. You... you're my..."

"Your what, Jason?" you ask, hysterically. You're almost yelling now, finally ready to snap at Jason's inability to share his thoughts with you. He stays silent, face going blank again, an indication that he's closing himself off to you. Your shoulders sag from exhaustion. "Come talk to me when you can give me an answer. I'm going home, I'll get Dick to give me a ride."

You don't wait for a response as you walk back into the venue. Thankfully, Dick is near the entrance and you don't have to subject yourself to too many stares before he takes you home. You don't glance at Jason on your way out.

4. when he asks for your help.

You're moping. You don't bother trying to deny it, but you're definitely moping around your apartment since your fight with Jason. You wake early every day and get dressed and study, but your movements are almost robotic in nature.

Dick has tried texting you a few times, but you've decided to just avoid looking at your phone, because it's the one Jason bought and it just makes you feel even worse. You aren't sure if Jason's tried contacting you, but your phone stops going off around the same time as Dick's evening patrol and you don't let yourself dwell on it further.

The two of you have never gone this long without speaking and aside from the pit of unease in your stomach as well as the sadness hanging over you like a dark cloud, you're also just bored. You have acquaintances from your nursing course, but no one close enough to do anything with this late at night.

Oh, well, you think to yourself, Chinese food and Grey's Anatomy for the second night in a row it is.

You take a quick shower, standing under the hot water for longer than necessary to let the time pass. Getting out, you change into your second pyjama set of the day, opting for a hoodie when you feel a chill in your room that wasn't there before.

You go to shut your bedroom window with a frown, not remembering why you opened it. The handle is stiff and you internally curse your landlord for still not fixing it as you finally succeed in shutting the damn thing after a particularly hard tug.

It shouldn't have taken that much energy out of you, but you're panting when you walk out of your bedroom to enter the living room so you can sit in front of the TV and order the takeout that you probably shouldn't be eating.

Before you can even attempt to regulate your breathing, you look up in the direction of your couch to find Jason sitting there in his Red Hood suit and slap a hand over your mouth to smother your shriek.

"Oh my God," you gasp, your free hand flailing out frantically to grasp the door frame in an attempt to steady yourself. The minute it takes for you to catch your breath is enough time to take in the state of the vigilante sitting in the dark of your living room.

You switch the light on and Jason winces at the sudden brightness, but you take the opportunity to give him a thorough once over. His dark hair is disheveled and falling into his eyes from hours of confinement in his helmet and he has a fresh bruise blossoming across his cheekbone.

You hardly ever use the main light, usually opting for a warm-toned lamp instead, so when the main light casts the cuts and scrapes on Jason's body in a harsher light, you want to turn it off even more.

Jason's eyes flutter shut for a second and you immediately rush forward to assess him for any injuries causing major blood loss. "Did you get stabbed?" you ask clinically, your voice void of any emotion. "Are you bleeding under your suit? You need to stay awake-"

"I'm fine," Jason mutters, opening his eyes to peer up at you through tired eyes. "I'm not bleeding or anything. Just wiped out from patrol."

You relax slightly, taking a step back to create some distance between the two of you. "Oh. You snuck through my window to tell me that you're tired?"

"Anyone could have snuck through that damn window," he says, brows furrowing in disapproval. He's been hassling you about the security of your apartment since you can remember and you usually wave him off, but in this moment you bristle.

"You don't get to be annoyed at me right now," you say, crossing your arms and glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "Why are you here, Jason?"

He grimaces at the use of his government name coming from you and takes a deep breath. "I haven't slept."

"So, go home and take a nap," you say, exasperated, letting your hands fall to your side as you're about to turn around and walk back into your room. Before you leave, you hear your Nursing teachers' voices in your head, reprimanding you and you sigh. "And you want to clean those cuts before they get infected."

"Could you do it for me?" Jason asks quietly, barely audible. His jaw clenches with the effort of asking you the question. "Please?"

You blink at him. "But, I- You've never..." you trail off, not knowing what to say. Jason has always refused to let anyone else patch him up after patrol. Hell, he's even learned how to do stitches on himself when you're the one learning how to do them for a living.

"I want... to let you look after me," he whispers, looking at you imploringly like you're going to refuse. Your irritation immediately melts into something else that you don't want to analyse any time soon.

"Oh," you exhale softly, heart twisting unwillingly. You nod slowly, words escaping you again. "Okay."

Jason's head flops back onto the couch cushion and he sighs like all of the tension is leaving his body. His hair covers his eyes, but you don't miss the dark circles under them, contrasting starkly with his skin, pale from exhaustion.

You consider letting him stay there, but you know it'll be easier in the bathroom where you keep all of your first aid supplies and the lighting is better for when you're practicing your techniques. "Come on. Up," you say, gesturing to the bathroom with a jerk of your head and you walk away, allowing him to come in his own time.

While you're digging through your bathroom cabinet for all the supplies you've haphazardly thrown in after using them, Jason slips in and you glance over at him quickly. "Sit down," you mutter, reaching up for the disinfectant. It sits on one of the higher shelves and you have to get on your tiptoes to reach it. Jason instinctively moves to help you but you shoo him away, managing to grasp it yourself. "Sit down."

"Yes, nurse," he huffs out a quiet laugh and you bite back a smile, opting to roll your eyes at him instead. Setting your supplies down behind Jason, you focus your attentions on unzipping his suit. The way his arms are resting limp in his lap tells you that he's not wanting to move anytime soon. You bring the zipper down yourself and pull off each sleeve cautiously, not wanting to rip the suit further where the torn fabric is clinging to the bloody cuts in his skin.

Once the suit is hanging loosely around his waist, you see from the black tank he's wearing that the cuts are localised to his now bare arms from where he's been defensive, whereas the fabric on his chest and abdomen are intact.

Jason's eyes track your face as you assess the extent of his injuries and when you lift your face to look at him, he's unabashed, continuing to look directly into your eyes. Your cheeks warm and you stutter out a sentence "I-I'll be right back, one sec."

You rush out of the bathroom and into your kitchen to pull open the freezer and scramble around for a bag of frozen anything. Settling on a bag of peas that you have no intention of cooking anytime soon, you hurry straight back to the bathroom.

Jason eyes the peas warily and you raise a brow, daring him to challenge you. When he stays silent, you move forward to shove the peas onto his cheek where the bruise is a darker red mark than before. He hisses when the icy bag makes contact with his face, flinching away from it.

"Ouch," he mumbles belatedly, giving you a sheepish smile when your mouth sets in a line. You should probably be gentler with him considering it's the first time he's allowing someone to physically care for him and it's you he's choosing to cross that boundary with. It's not like you want to scare him off so he never asks you again, but you can't help still being annoyed with him after your fight.

You sigh, trying to relax your face into a non-threatening expression. "Sorry. Keep it on your face to stop the swelling."

Jason grasps the bag slowly as you let go, letting his fingers brush over your own. You clear your throat and focus your attentions on the cotton pads, dousing them with disinfectant. Jason looks at you through one open eye, the other obscured by the bag of peas. "You shouldn't be the one apologising," he says, after a beat.

You purse your lips, bringing a cotton pad up to Jason's shoulder. "I know," you say simply before you press the disinfectant into one of the larger cuts, harder than probably necessary. Jason screws his eyes shut and works his jaw, but stays quiet. "Did that hurt?"

Jason shakes his head immediately, letting out a short breath he was holding. "Nope. Felt good actually. Kinda like a cooling effe- Shit," he hisses, tensing his arm. You think that's enough torture for now, instead continuing to gently wipe away the blood and dirt.

"I won't apologise about that one," you say, shrugging. Jason cracks a smile and you find yourself hiding one of your own as you clean off the other, smaller cuts and scrapes that don't need bandaging. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Promise I'll be nicer about it this time."

Jason shakes his head again, so you dispose of the cotton pads and get the band-aids, the only noise in the bathroom being the sound of you rummaging through your supplies. When you spot the choice of band-aids, you grin. "Pick one."

Surveying the two that you hold in your hand, Jason's gaze lingers on the dinosaur patterned band-aid, before flicking his eyes up to yours and raising an eyebrow. He points to the other one. "I'll take the Hello Kitty."

Your grin widens, knowing he's only choosing the pink Hello Kitty band-aid to appease you. You're certainly not going to challenge him about it as you carefully peel off the backing to stick it over his shoulder. Stepping back, you tilt your head to evaluate him and nod. "You look very pretty."

Jason smirks, but the slight blush creeping across the cheek that isn't covered by the frozen peas doesn't fool you. "Pretty enough for you to forgive me for being such an ass?"

"That depends." You take a tentative step towards him, crossing your arms. "Are you going to stop being stupid?"

Jason lowers his arm holding the bag of peas and places it behind him. With both hands, he reaches over to your arms, uncrossing them to bring you forward until you're standing close. He's so impossibly tall in your tiny bathroom that even standing up, you're only eye level with him as he sits on the closed toilet seat.

"I can't promise that I'll never be stupid in front of you again. You kind of have that effect on me," he says, sighing like it's some curse inflicted on him. You thwack his rock-solid arm and he grins. "I can promise I'll let you take care of me from now on, though. And that I'm going to stop lying to you."

"What?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. You're even more confused when Jason places his hands around your waist to guide you onto his lap, both your legs hanging off one side of him. You raise both eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his answer, but he merely stares at you, smiling. "Jason. When have you lied to- mmph-"

He cuts you off by pressing your lips together in a kiss, one hand still holding yours, intertwining your fingers while the other tilts your chin up so he can kiss you deeper. You're a little slow on the uptake, frozen from shock for a second, but it isn't long until you're kissing him back just as eagerly. You shift in his lap, lifting one of your legs to swing over to his other side until you're straddling him and Jason takes a sharp inhale, sitting up straighter and pulling your body closer to his.

He pulls away for a millisecond, before his lips reattach to your jaw, travelling down to pepper soft kisses down your neck and you let out a noise halfway between a sigh and an embarrassing whimper. Jason groans at the sound, nipping at your neck and you feel like you can't breathe enough air.

He pulls away again to catch his own breath and you take the opportunity to come to your senses and lean back, gently pushing at Jason's chest. You breathe hard, trying to lift your gaze from Jason's swollen lips and he seems to be having a hard time looking away from your own.

"Jason," you say, voice shaky and uneven.

"Mhm?" he hums distractedly, pressing a soft kiss on your jaw before looking at you again.

"You kissed me," you point out, stupidly. "You really, really kissed me."

"I did," Jason murmurs, both hands cupping your face. He swallows, expression going from dazed to nervous before he speaks. "You asked me what you are to me before you left the other night."

You nod slowly, head still reeling from the kiss. Truthfully, you were willing to pretend the conversation never happened if you could go back to being friends again. You missed Jason. 

"You're everything to me." Jason's shoulders are relaxed, his face free of tension as he says this. You're so shocked by the fact that he doesn't seem to be in pain as he opens himself up to you, that it takes a minute to process the actual meaning of his words. Your lips part but he shakes his head, continuing to speak. "You're everything. And sometimes I can't even think about that too much, let alone speak it, because I'm scared it'll consume me. I'm scared you'll consume me. The idea of compromising your safety, the idea of you loving me back, all of it. I'm... I was scared."

You lift your hand to place it over Jason's, still resting on your cheek. "That's okay. I can think and speak enough for the both of us," you tease and Jason laughs quietly, his breath tickling the inside of your wrist and sending a shiver down your spine. "You're everything to me as well, by the way. And sometimes all I can think about is loving you. I was just waiting for you to say it first."

Jason smiles and you think the corners of his lips lifting up and his eyes lighting up is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, each time blowing you away like it's the first time you've witnessed it. "Does that mean I lose? Kinda feels like I've won," he tilts his head, pretending to think about it.

"Oh, you've so lost," you furrow your brows in a mockingly serious frown. "And I'll be telling Tim as much."

Jason stills. "Please do not tell me that he bet you fifty dollars I'd confess first as well."

Your jaw drops. "That little bastard was playing both of us?"

You start laughing when Jason lets out an irritated groan, dropping his head onto your shoulder to bury his face in your shirt. You thread your hands in his hair and wrap an arm around his neck. He sighs, half content and half resigned. "I say we don't tell him for as long as we can get away with it. Live in peace for a while."

"We're talking about Tim here," you remind Jason, leaning back to lift his head and look at him. "I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew. And he'd literally never talk to you again if he knew we were hiding it after he finds out."

"I don't care," Jason says, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. He leans back to run his eyes over your face, drinking you in like looking at you is a rare occurrence that he doesn't get the opportunity to do much. "You're all I need, anyway."

© angelfic 2024.

[smileysuh]

penance

🌙 staring. Cheol & Jeonghan & Joshua & Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’re hyper-aware of the fact that all four of your lovers are just outside the confessional, that they’re listening in- it’s making your mouth dry, your palms becoming sweaty as you rub them against your dress. “When you last confessed, you mentioned greed and lust as your sins. Would you care to elaborate more on that?” The priest asks. “Maybe it will be easier, now that you’re amongst… friends.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex, orgies, 3some, 4some, 6some, creampies/filling kink, cum play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, fucking in weird places (a tank & church & outside & bathrooms), multiple sex scenes, choking, rough handling, manhandling, blow jobs, deep throating, oral, squirting, anal, double penetration, triple penetration, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, possessiveness, sir kink, powerplay, free use subthemes, getting horny during confession, sins: lust/greed, fingering, sex as punishment/penance, jealousy, dubious consent/inclusion of a new person, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, finger sucking, spanking, spitting, etc... I pet names: (hers) baby, beautiful princess, kitten, whore/slut, good girl, dirty girl, etc. (cheol's) sir. (gyu's) puppy. (others) etc...

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 21.2k

🍭 aus. zombie apocalypse au, poly au, military!cheol/hannie/gyu/wonwoo, priest!Joshua, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. so... uh. I watched Sweet Home season 2 and the military men had me hornier than usual.

Prologue:

It’s been one week since you arrived at the prison compound. One week since you almost died, only to be saved by a group of four of the sexiest men you’d ever seen. They’d stormed into the grocery store you’d been cornered in, killed the three zombies who’d been attacking you, and offered you refuge at one of the few fortified locations for survivors in the area. 

You’d heard about a prison with militiamen protecting it, but you’d never thought it was real. Since the supposed ‘apocalypse,’ lies have become much too common, and part of you had always been scared to hope for something like normalcy ever again. 

Sure, the prison isn’t exactly normal. Sleeping in a cell and carrying out daily tasks like tending to the garden outside or helping with food ration prep isn’t how you’d pictured your life turning out, but to be fair, when zombies began terrorizing the globe, you hadn’t envisioned much of a future for yourself.

Every day you spend surviving is a day past your expiration date, so you take it as it comes. 

To top it all off, the hierarchy of this new place is something you’re getting used to. 

The militiamen generally keep to themselves in the barracks section, but you catch glimpses of them heading out every few days in their trucks while you do menial tasks around the prison yard. 

For the most part, the surviving citizens have formed a mock democracy, a counsel that determines tasks and deals with small-time disputes between survivors. Everyone is pulling their weight in one way or another, but people are kind to each other, and it’s taken some getting used to. 

Your job today involves handing out rations for dinner. The militia had found a warehouse somewhere in the vicinity with a large amount of instant ramen, so morale is quite high as you serve survivors a hot meal. 

You’re still getting the hang of faces and names, but one person stands out as he patiently waits in line. His dark outfit - complete with the white ‘Roman collar’ around his neck - distinguishes him as the priest who tends to the on-grounds chapel. You’ve heard good things about his services, about the way he uplifts spirits and keeps people’s faith, but you’ve yet to go to any of his speaking engagements. 

He’s a handsome man, and you offer him a small smile when he’s finally standing in front of you. “Hello, Father.”

“It’s Joshua,” he corrects you, with a soft grin of his own. “You must be new here.”

You tell him your name, and explain that you arrived last week. He listens with an expression filled with understanding, and you realize his easy countenance must be one of the reasons people like this priest so much. Although he’s a spiritual advisor to the democracy counsel, he doesn’t act like a few of the more entitled circle members do. 

“Thank God we were able to find you,” Joshua muses, when you reveal that you’d been near death at the time of your saving. “I’ve found that, in a situation like this, it’s always the innocent who are first to be trampled over.”

You’re not sure how spiritually innocent you are, but you understand that he might be coming from an angle of women and children being those who are pure. The ratio of male survivors to women and children is four to one in the prison, and it’s definitely been something that made you uneasy about this place when you first arrived.

“Thank God,” you repeat respectfully. 

Joshua’s smile widens for a moment, then he nods. “Please know that the church on the northeast part of the grounds is open to everyone. If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you, Father.” 

This time, he doesn’t correct you on his name, he simply nods, continuing down the food line. 

You’re doing your best to keep yourself in check. You’ve not been around this many handsome men since the initial outbreak, and you feel like a starving dog who’s finally seen an abundance of food. Not only is the priest hot, and the militiamen as well, but many of the survivors here are quite attractive in their own unique way.

Hansol is the quiet man who’d been assigned to show you around. He tends the garden outside with you, and you’ve come to enjoy the way the sunlight hits his striking features. 

Seokmin works in the kitchen, and you’ve spent hours organizing boxes of food with him. You enjoy the smiles he always sends your way, he makes you forget that you’re in a prison with a zombie infestation just outside the compound's high walls. 

Then there’s Soonyoung, a rambunctious survivor who is always vocalizing the needs of others at circle meetings, much to the dismay of counselman Seungkwan, who fancies himself a clear mouthpiece of the people. 

It’s the end of the dinner rush and you’re lost in thought about your new life in the prison when you notice a familiar person standing in front of you. Jeonghan had been amongst the unit that saved you, and he offers you a large grin. “Hi, new girl.”

“Hi,” you say, feeling a little stupid with yourself as the word slips out. It’s hard to focus on speaking with the beautiful man standing in front of you. He’s dressed in his camo pants and a white tanktop, dog tags dangling from his neck. 

“How are you liking this place?” Jeonghan asks. 

“I’m very happy to be here,” you respond quickly. You’re not sure you trust the prison or its inhabitants yet, but, you are grateful to have a safe place to rest at night. 

“Good, it looks like you’re settling in.” The militiaman’s eyes scan you up and down. “We haven’t had a chance to talk to you since we brought you here, the Z1 unit was wondering if you were okay.”

There are a handful of units that protect the prison. As far as you can tell, the Z in front of their unit numbers stands for Zombie, but it’s not something you’ve been able to confirm. 

“Anyways,” Jeonghan continues, “it’s the end of the rush, how about you clock out and come eat with me?”

You notice Seokmin shifting on the food line next to you, and he casts you a weary look. 

“I’m not sure I can clock out,” you admit.

“It will be fine,” Jeonghan assures you, waving his hand. “Actually, now that I think about it, I should grab food for the others too, and you can’t expect me to hold all the trays, right?” 

You look to Seokmin for guidance, and he lets out a small sigh, nodding. “You can help him bring the food to the barracks.” 

A few minutes later, you’re standing in the food line with Jeonghan.  “I didn’t realize the units eat the same stuff as the rest of us,” you muse, watching Seokmin pile a larger-than-normal ration of instant ramen onto each of Jeonghan’s four trays.

“We normally don’t,” Jeonghan admits. “The barracks have a stash of military-grade food, but Z1 has a taste for this type of shit.” 

“Lucky that you found a whole stash of it.”

“We’ve been very lucky lately,” the militiaman grins. “Found you too.”

“I wanted to thank you again-”

“There’s no need,” Jeonghan waves his hand. “Duty this, and duty that, and all that jazz.”

“Still, I appreciate it.”

“And I appreciate you helping me with the trays. There, we’re even.”

He’d been quite easygoing when he’d first rescued you- well, as easygoing as you suppose a military man could be during a zombie apocalypse, and you’re pleasantly surprised that his carefree countenance has continued.  

As you finish getting your plates full, Seokmin comes out from the line, looking at Jeonghan, then at you. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Don’t be so jumpy, Seokmin,” Jeonghan laughs. “She can’t bring the food all the way to the barracks and then not eat anything. I’ll make sure she’s well fed, and I’ll send her back when we’re done with her.”

There’s something slightly ominous about his choice of words, and your skin heats at the idea of eating with the entire Z1 unit. 

You? In a room with your four hot saviors? 

Your stomach twists at the mere thought.

“Are you sure I can’t help you with the trays?” Seokmin suggests, his eyes finding you.

“Nah, she’s got it,” Jeonghan brushes your friend off. “Besides, you know that Cheol likes to talk to all the new survivors that show up on base. We gotta fill out a little detail sheet and give it to the head councilman so that everyone is accounted for, or did you forget that that’s one of our duties?”

Seokmin lets out a small sigh, and with one final nod, he allows Jeonghan to lead you from the cafeteria. 

The prison is like a maze, even though you’ve seen a map, you still find yourself getting lost with some frequency. Jeonghan, in contrast, has no problems navigating the dull, dimly lit halls.

“How long have you been here?” you ask.

“Since near the start of the outbreak,” Jeonghan responds casually. “Before all the cell phone towers went down, the government started sending teams into prisons to clear them out. I guess the thought was that compounds like this one would be good bases to survive the apocalypse. Communications between us and the big bosses got cut, the group of officials that were supposed to arrive for sanctuary never did- then survivors started popping up, so now here we are.”

You stay quiet, and Jeonghan looks over at you.

“Where were you before this place?” he asks.

“Never in one place for very long,” you admit. “There was a group of survivors at a large shopping center, but it wasn’t fortified like this place. Was only there a month before things got bad.” 

Jeonghan nods sympathetically. “Well, the prison isn’t gonna be breached anytime soon. You can rest easy now.”

You continue walking, with Jeonghan asking you surface-level questions about what jobs you’re being assigned to, what friends you’ve made. It feels nice to be talking to someone casually again, and if the conversation wasn’t so based on the situation at hand, you think you might actually be able to forget about the apocalypse entirely while with Jeonghan. 

As you arrive at the barracks wing, you have to walk past a few militiamen rooms before making it to the Z1 section at the end of the hall. As you pass, holding trays of instant ramen, you notice members of Z2 watching you. 

Seokmin had explained to you a few details about Z2, more specifically its unit leader, a short but beefy man they call Woozi, who had been the head of the prison’s guard system before the outbreak. He watches you quite intensely as you walk past, but you also get looks from men you can identify as the Chinese members of the unit.

“What’s that?” the youngest Z2 man asks, stepping out of his room to look at you and Jeonghan.

“This, Chan, is instant ramen,” Jeonghan says, waving one of his trays in front of the soldier. “If you run, you might be able to get some for yourself before they close up the kitchen.”

Chan practically takes off, and a moment later, you notice the rest of Z2 standing to join as well.

“Looks like you’re not the only unit who likes ramen,” you grin.

“Everyone likes ramen,” Jeonghan insists. 

You finally make it to the Z1 section and Jeonghan kicks open the door. It’s clear that unlike the other unit rooms which consist of bunk beds, the Z1 unit has the best quarters. With a middle lounging/dining area, and four off-shooting bedrooms, this is clearly the most lavish place to be in the prison. There are weights and other workout contraptions strewn about, and more guns than you can count- 

Sitting on the couches in the middle of the common space are your three other saviors. They appear to be playing some sort of card game, and when you enter, they all look up.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest to be under the gaze of three of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. 

Seungcheol’s the first to speak, his eyes moving from you to Jeonghan. “What’s this?”

“This is dinner,” Jeonghan says simply, walking around the couch to set a tray down for Cheol before taking his own seat next to the unit leader. “And you guys all remember the girl we saved last week. I needed an extra set of hands.”

You step forward, leaning over to put down the two trays you’re holding in front of Mingyu and Wonwoo.

“Make some room for the girl, Jesus, she’s eating with us,” Jeonghan chastizes the two large men staring at you.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are quick to move over, creating a space for you in the middle of the couch. 

“Maybe I should get going,” you suggest, skin tingling at the idea of being sandwiched between Wonwoo and Mingyu. All four men are in their camo pants and tank tops, muscles all on display- 

“Don’t be crazy,” Jeonghan scoffs. “I told Seokmin I’d feed you, so we’re feeding you. These two don’t mind sharing, do you guys?”

Mingyu lifts his jaw off the floor, swallowing thickly and shaking his head. “We don’t mind sharing.”

Wonwoo, in contrast, stays dead silent, his dark eyes watching you as you slowly move to sit in the middle. 

“I uh…” you clear your throat. “I wanted to thank all of you again for saving me last week.”

“Don’t,” Seungcheol says. You stare at him, and he leans forward cocking his head to the side. His next question catches you off guard, “Do you like it here?”

You swallow thickly, nodding. “Yes, sir.”

Jeonghan chuckles, and Mingyu squirms in his seat next to you. Seungcheol, to your shock, actually grins, and you’re amazed at how the smile lights up his handsome face. “No one’s called me that in a long time,” he admits. “I like the sound of it.”

“She’s quite respectful, isn’t she?” Jeonghan notes, winking at you.

“Why’d you bring her here?” Wonwoo asks, addressing the man across from him. 

You’ve kind of been wondering the same thing.

“You know why I brought her here,” Jeonghan shoots back. 

“Have you discussed it with her yet?” Seungcheol questions, his eyes still fixed on you.

Jeonghan gives his head a quick shake. “Of course not, that’s your job… sir.”

Mingyu shifts again next to you, his thigh gently bumping up against your own. You’re hyper-aware of everything taking place, and you stay still like prey caught under the piercing gaze of four predators, holding your breath while you wait for this to play out. 

“You should eat,” Seungcheol tells you, nodding to the tray on your right, which belongs to Wonwoo. “Have a bite.”

When you don’t move, Wonwoo leans forward picking up the tray and setting it in your lap. “Eat,” he echos his superior’s command.

You tentatively pick up the chopsticks, and on your left, Mingyu does the same with his food. You wait for him to shovel a large amount of noodles into his mouth before you follow suit. Across from you, Jeonghan begins eating too, and then Seungcheol picks up his tray to join. 

Wonwoo sits silently next to you, and after two bites, you shift the food toward him, offering the chopsticks. He shakes his head. “You must be hungry,” he insists. “Have some more.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what this is about?” you ask. “Jeonghan mentioned a survey to complete-”

“Let's finish eating, then we can talk,” Seungcheol states.

“I’m not really that hungry today,” you admit, not when your stomach is filled with butterflies from being so close to these men. You shift the tray toward Wonwoo again, and this time, he accepts it.

The four men eat in silence, and each passing moment feels like forever. Mingyu is done first, he’d practically inhaled his food, and he sets his tray down on the center coffee table, letting out a loud groan and leaning back against the couch. His thigh presses harder against your own, and you shift closer to Wonwoo, who blocks you in.

Both men now have their legs touching yours, and you can feel the warmth of their bodies. God, you haven’t been properly touched in months. The chaste closeness of this is driving you insane, and your heart continues to thunder heavily in your chest.

Soon, all four trays are stacked neatly on the coffee table, and Seungcheol lets out a sigh. He relaxes against the cushions, eyes on you. “Do you think you’ll stay at the prison for long?”

“Hmm?” you blink, confused by the question.

“Some people leave,” Jeonghan explains. “They think they’ll find somewhere better, for some stupid reason.”

“I uh… I think I’d like to stay here, for now at least… I’m taking each day as it comes.”

Seungcheol cocks his head to the side. It’s clear he’s trying to read you, and his silence makes you eager to hear more from him. “We have a… unconventional proposition for you,” the leader of the unit says finally.

“A proposition,” you repeat.

“And if you’re not into it, you can say no. No pressure, no questions asked,” Jeonghan quips.

“You’re allowed to say no,” Wonwoo says quietly next to you. 

“We won’t kick you out or anything,” Mingyu adds. 

“But I do ask that, no matter what your response, you keep this to yourself,” Seungcheol states. 

“Okay, sir.” You nod.

Seungcheol takes a breath. “Life is short-”

Jeonghan scoffs loudly, which earns him a harsh glare from the unit leader. “Come on, you can’t start this off by saying life is short.”

“If you think you can do better, then go for it,” Seungcheol retorts.

“Fine, I will,” Jeonghan fires back. He looks at you. “Life is short-”

“Jesus Christ,” Wonwoo cusses next to you.

“Okay, fine, I’m kidding-” Jeonghan laughs. “Look, I’ll make this simple. There aren’t many pretty girls kicking around these days, and I think it’s safe to say everyone is pent-up from killing zombies and surviving an apocalypse. We all deserve a little release.”

You blink at him, shocked at the direction this has taken.

“As a unit, we’re used to sharing everything,” Jeonghan continues. “And if you’re up for it, we’d love to share you.”

Mingyu shifts next to you. “You don’t have to decide right now-”

“Yes,” you cut him off. “Yes. Please. Uh- yes.”

“Well that was easy,” Jeonghan laughs, leaning back. 

“Sounds like she’s as pent-up as the rest of us,” Wonwoo muses next to you. His voice has lowered an octave, and the sound of him makes your pussy tingle. 

“Looks that way,” Seungcheol agrees.

“So… so how do we do this?” you ask.

“Whatever way you want. Whatever combination you want. Whenever we’re here and you want us-” Jeonghan begins to list. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Mingyu says, his large hand finding your thigh. 

Something inside of you snaps. You turn to the gorgeous man next to you and simply grab his face, smashing your lips to his. Mingyu is surprised for a moment, but then he wraps his arms around you, easily lifting you onto his lap while his tongue begins to clash with your own, a deep groan escaping from him.

“I guess she’s comfortable with now,” you hear Jeonghan muse.

“Gyu, settle down, we still have questions,” Seungcheol says.

With a moan of annoyance, Mingyu pulls away from your lips, then he turns you in his arms, making you face the unit leader. But he doesn’t stop entirely, his mouth finds your throat, and one of his hands grabs at your breast, kneading you through your shirt. 

You’re breathing hard already- Mingyu’s so warm and big and sexy- even so, you do your best to meet Seungcheol’s gaze, your lips parted unconsciously, body wiggling under Mingyu’s touch.

“Are you on any birth control, princess?” Seungcheol asks, leaning forward to watch the way his friend’s other hand slips down to your core, cupping you through your jeans.

“I got an IUD,” you admit, “right before the outbreak-”

Seungcheol’s eyes darken with lust. “Lucky us.” 

“Does this mean we can fuck you raw?” Mingyu groans in your ear, hips rutting up against your ass. 

“Please-” you whimper, practically drooling at the feeling of his hard cock pressing up by your bum.

“Gonna let us fill you up, baby?” he continues, undoing the button of your jeans.

“Yes-”

Seungcheol stands up abruptly, and he kicks the coffee table to the side, sending cards and trays clattering to the floor. He grabs you off of Mingyu’s lap, tossing you over his shoulder and turning toward one of the connected bedrooms. “You’re in for it tonight, dirty girl.”

The three other men stand to follow, and your entire body tingles with delight.

The rest of the world might be dealing with an apocalypse, but you’re pretty sure you’ve just found heaven.

One

When Seungcheol had first shown you the tank in the prison garage, you’d been apprehensive about it. He’d explained that they don’t have the gas for it, so it’s never in use, and is more of a fun toy he goes and sits in sometimes to clear his head. The unit leader had helped you inside and taken the main seat, watching you cautiously move around the enclosed space. He’d explained the mechanics and buttons, dragging you to his lap so you could feel the tickle of his breath by your ear.

In the six months you’ve been fucking his unit, it’s become clear to Seungcheol that you like each man for very different reasons. He’s found that you become particularly baby girl with him when he’s explaining things to you, dominating you intellectually and teaching you new information. 

That first time in the tank, he’d begun stroking you, teasing you until he slipped his hand in your pants. You’d been as wet as you always are for him, and you’d eventually gotten the courage to fuck him in his tank chair, after he assured you over and over again that the armored vehicle is pretty soundproof.

He’s proud of how far you’ve come. It’s the same you, the same tank, but you’re much more daring than you were the first time. He’d thought you were pretty wild when he’d first met you, but that insatiable need you have has only grown, and he loves to see it.

The tank has become his favorite place to fuck you, away from everyone else. As fun as the orgies and threesomes are, sometimes, the unit leader just wants you for himself. 

He loves sitting back and watching you ride him, watching the way your ass bounces while your pussy squeezes his aching cock. 

“You’ve gotten so good at this, princess,” he groans, hands finding your hips to help you move up and down. It’s clear that you’re getting tired, but you won’t stop- you never stop until he tells you to, and he fucking loves you for it.

“Thank you, sir-” you whimper, opting for a slower pace but one that sinks you deeper- he can feel himself stretching out your walls near their breaking point, and he notes the way your legs quake.

Seungcheol lets out a deep sigh, inhaling the stuffy scent of sex that’s already perfumed the small enclosed space. He wraps one hand around your front, finding your clit. Your shaky legs try to close around him, a squeal of delight escaping you.

“Don’t be like that,” Seungcheol says gently, while roughly pulling your thighs apart. “Let sir help you cum, you’ve been such a good little cock whore, riding me so good- now it’s your turn.”

“I’m sensitive-” you whimper.

“Well, that’s what happens when you let Mingyu eat you for breakfast, isn’t that right, pretty girl?” Seungcheol chuckles. This morning he’d walked in on you sprawled out on the coffee table, a moaning crying mess with Mingyu’s face buried between your thighs. 

He’d watched Mingyu make you cum three times while Seungcheol had sipped his morning coffee, and he’d been hard all day thinking about it, waiting for an opportunity to get you to himself. 

Now here you are, pussy clamped around his cock, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum three times too.

You can take it, he knows you can.

They’d tested your tolerance one day, taking turns making you cum until you physically couldn’t take anymore. 

Your high score had been ten, so six today is nothing… although, Wonwoo had walked in at the end of Mingyu’s meal, and Seungcheol’s pretty sure he has a bone to pick with you over it too, once Cheol is done with his own revenge, that is.

“Sir-” you whimper again, reaching behind yourself to tangle your fingers through Seungcheol’s hair.

“I can feel you tensing, princess,” he groans, rutting his hips up to meet you. “Be a good girl and let go for me.” He rubs your clit harder and you cry out, which only eggs him on more. “You’ve always been such a good little slut for me, ever since that first night. Don’t start being bad now. You can do it. Follow my order, and cum.”

You take a strangled breath, and Seungcheol can feel your pussy clenching desperately around him- he almost has half a mind to cum too, but he holds back, rubbing your pussy and letting you sink completely on his cock, warming him while your walls throb around his sensitive length. 

“That’s it,” he says in your ear. “Good girl.”

You twitch in his embrace, sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the tank. He gives you everything you can handle, and when you finally slump back against his chest, he relents. His hand leaves your clit and he presses soft kisses to your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he tells you. 

“Please-”

He loves how needy you are, even after you’ve just cum.

It takes no effort at all for him to stand up, forcing you onto shaky legs. Two crude benches line the tank's inner walls, and he’s set up some cushioning on one. He lays you down, adjusting you on your back while you blink up at him. 

He’ll never get tired of that look in your eye. No matter how respectful and good you are verbally, there’s always something like a challenge lurking behind those pretty irises of yours. Seungcheol can’t help the way his hand reaches out to encircle your throat as he gets on top of you, one knee digging into the cushioning while he sinks his cock into your dripping hole.

“Fuck,” you whimper, throwing your head back while he squeezes your neck tighter.

He loves the way you grab at his wrist, applying even more pressure- it’s as if you want him to choke you out, and it’s one of the sexiest things he ever experiences with you. 

You trust him, completely. He has your life in his hands, and you’re more than willing to give up everything for him. 

The pressure on your throat has your whimpers turning squeaky as he begins to fuck you roughly. He loves watching your face, the way your eyes close, your body completely consumed by what he’s giving you.

“Sir-” you gasp, your pussy clenching tight around his cock.

“Are you going to cum again? That fast?” Seungcheol laughs. “And just from a little choking- you’re such a naughty girl, princess. Tell me you love it when I choke you like this.”

“I love it-” you cry out, taking a raspy breath when he lets up for a moment, just to tighten his grip on you again. 

He can see tears welling in the corners of your eyes, and it makes him fuck you harder, his cock sinking in completely with each thrust.

“If you want to cum again, you should cum,” he tells you. “In fact, I want you to cum again. Reach down and rub your clit for me. Get yourself there one more time before I give you what you really want.” 

You moan like a whore but you don’t argue. You never argue with Cheol. Shaky fingers find your clit and you squeal, shivering from the stimulus. 

You feel like absolute heaven, and Seungcheol would fuck you in this tank for hours if he had the time. 

“Sir-” you whimper, a warning of your impending high.

“Cum on my cock,” he tells you, another command that you won’t argue with.

Even if you wanted to, Seungcheol doubts you could control yourself. Your body beats to the sound of its own drum, your brain be damned, and right now, Seungcheol is the one controlling the tempo.

For the second time, your pussy clamps down on his cock, and Seungcheol has to focus really hard on not busting with you. Your pussy feels like magic, warm wet walls wrapped around his length like you were made for him. 

“Look at you,” Seungcheol groans, hips continuing their brutal pace. “Cumming two times in a row- who’s my good little whore?”

“I am!”

“Who makes you cum this good?”

“You do, sir!”

“And what do you want now, my greedy little princess?”

“Your cum- Fuck! I want your cum in me-” 

He loves that you have a thing about being filled up. One time he’d been tempted to finish on your ass, and you’d cried at the thought of not having him inside you. Your favorite thing is when all four of them take turns filling you to the brink- he’s never seen someone as submissive and breedable as you after having four loads in your pussy. 

And the way you thank him every time he fills you up- it’s an experience that will never get old.

“I’m close, princess, but you know sir doesn’t cum unless his pretty girl does,” Seungcheol muses. “You have one more for me, right?”

“Fuck, yes, sir-” He notes the way you rub your clit harder, and you immediately let out a groan- Seungcheol lets go of your neck, pinching your nipple roughly, which earns another strangled sound from your lips.

“Tell me when, princess, then sir will fill you up.”

“Almost there, almost there-” you assure him, brows knitted together in concentration as you work your already oversensitive clit. 

Seungcheol and his unit have spent six months overstimulating you. Six months teaching your body to test the limits and cum over and over and over again- and this is the reward.

Your main dominant leans over you, massaging your breast while his lips meet your throat. He knows your sweet spots like the back of his hand, and you immediately shiver below him, a gasp escaping you.

“Cumming-” you whisper, as your walls clench like a vice on his cock.

The feeling triggers Seungcheol’s orgasm, the tight cord finally releasing.

Seungcheol had thought his sex life before the outbreak was good, but he’s never cum the way he does when he’s with you. His whole body is alight with pleasure, groans leaving him without a care in the world. His hips move to their own pace, twitching as he shoots ropes of his cum deep in your pussy, creaming your pulsing walls and marking you - if even for this moment - as his. 

“Sir-” you whimper, grabbing his face and searching for his lips.

You kiss him deeply, tongue gliding against his own while you moan into each other's mouths, riding out the orgasms. 

As Seungcheol finishes and his hips come to a stop, there’s a knocking on the tank hatch. A moment later, Wonwoo is poking his head through the hole. “These tanks aren’t as soundproof as you think, Cheol.”

“Well, no one comes down here except Z1,” the unit leader points out.

“True.” Wonwoo’s eyes shift past Seungcheol to you. Your body is still mostly covered, but the moment Seungcheol gets off of you, you’re completely exposed. Seungcheol tosses you a handcloth to take care of the cum that begins to drip out of your pussy, and you blink up at the team’s sniper, who flashes you a wink. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you grin.

“Looks like Gyu and Cheol have made a mess of you today.”

“If you give me a little, I can take more,” you assure him, which makes Seungcheol laugh.

How’d they ever luck out and find a nymphomaniac able to take all four men and keep up with their appetites? 

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side thoughtfully. “I know you like being fucked in a tank, but how would you feel about being fucked on top of one?” 

“What if someone sees?”

Seungcheol laughs again. “Like I said, the only people who come down here are the Z1 unit. If anyone is going to show up, it’s Jeonghan. But we all know you’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess?”

The way your eyes light up is answer enough and Seungcheol pulls on his pants, shaking his head at your insatiable appetite. “Her number is already at six,” he warns Wonwoo, helping you onto your feet and pulling your easy-access dress over your head. “Give her ten minutes to calm down, and when you finally do fuck her, don’t be mean.”

“I’m never mean,” Wonwoo insists, reaching a hand down through the tank hatch hole to help pull you up and out.

Seungcheol follows you on the ladder, making sure your shaky legs don’t lead to any accidents. “Liar.” 

Two

Jeonghan loves everything about you, but he’s grown particularly fond of your mouth in recent months. When he has to share you with three other men who all fight for your pussy, it’s not unusual for Jeonghan to be perfectly content with getting a blow job while he waits.

He likes the lack of effort he has to put into it, but the reward is quite similar to what he experiences between your thighs. It also opens him up to be able to praise you, or degrade you, in any way he sees fit. Out of all four of your military fuck buddies, Jeonghan is the biggest talker. Mingyu has his moments, but when he’s close to cumming, he opts for moaning instead of chatting, which is Jeonghan’s specialty.

When he gets you alone, Jeonghan still likes a good blow job as an appetizer before the main course, and there’s nothing more fitting than having you on your knees for him in the prison chapel. 

“You look good like this,” Jeonghan muses, threading his fingers through your hair to help you find a good pace on his cock. “My perfect little kitten.”

You moan around his length, looking up at him with those pretty eyes he loves so much. 

You’re naked. He’d stripped you the moment you entered the church, and now, as per his direction, your hand is between your thighs, fingers stroking your clit while you suck him off.

“Always so dirty for me in a place of worship-” Jeonghan muses. “But that’s what you’re doing, right? Worshipping? You’re even on your knees and everything.”

When he’d first started fucking you here, you’d made him check the confession booth every time, just to be sure Joshua wasn’t around. Jeonghan knows you don’t have problems with being watched - or listened to - but it had been clear you felt ashamed of the idea of the priest hearing Jeonghan fuck you in the House of God. 

The first time Jeonghan had pulled open the door of the confession booth to find the priest sitting there, he’d allowed the man to be a quiet vouyer without telling you. It had added to his own enjoyment, and it had been clear from the look in the priest’s eye that he was content with listening too. 

It’s been a few months since you’ve asked Jeonghan to check the confession booths- you’ve become much too used to being railed in the chapel, and now, everytime he fucks you here, Jeonghan wonders if the priest is listening in. 

Jeonghan enjoys the almost performative nature that his dirty talk takes on at the idea of another man being in the vicinity. It makes his skin tingle, and his cock ache, to think that the ‘innocent priest’ is hearing every filthy word- every gagging sound you make when Jeonghan’s cock hits the back of your throat.

It’s become clear to Jeonghan that Joshua is anything but innocent, and the two have an unacknowledged agreement of secrecy. What takes place in the House of God, stays in the House of God, especially the sin that’s being committed here weekly.

“There you go, kitten,” Jeonghan groans loudly. “Take all of me, that’s it.”

His hips push forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes start to water as you stare up at him, and Jeonghan brushes them away, enjoying the wetness on his fingers way too much.

“So good,” he coos. “So fucking good.”

You whimper around his cock and he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to still on his length so he can begin fucking your face. 

“Such a perfect hole for me, kitten.” Jeonghan can feel his muscles tensing, can feel an orgasm building in his balls. “How's your pussy feel? Are you getting close too?”

You let out a moan of affirmation, closing your eyes and relaxing your throat while he ruts into your mouth. He’s spent months teaching you how to take cock like this, how to ignore your gagging instinct- and he’s so proud of the progress you’ve made for him.

“Don’t cum on your fingers, you only get to cum on my cock,” he warns you, using you toward his own end.

As much as he loves your mouth, nothing beats the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around his length- and he knows you love his cum, knows you love nothing more than feeling him dripping out of your used pussy as you stagger back toward the prison, clutched to his arm.

He’ll give you everything you want. He always does.

“Just a little more, kitten,” Jeonghan groans, enjoying the way your mouth sucks him in with each thrust.

He hopes you’re dripping already. The wooden floor had been less than ideal to fuck on the first two times you’d used the church as a hookup spot, and since then, Jeonghan’s taken to letting you kneel on his military jacket.

He loves the way it smells like you after, but Jeonghan’s always been a bit of a pervert. Sometimes you grace him by slipping your panties into his jacket pocket, and on supply runs, he can play with them when he’s not occupied.

As you bring him closer and closer to his peak, Jeonghan decides he’s had enough of your mouth. He pulls out, and you take a shuddered breath, drool still connecting you to his cock. Jeonghan can’t help himself, he taps his length against your cheek, grinning down at you.

“Ready for me?”

“Yes, Hannie,” you nod, wiping your face with the back of your hand before adjusting on his jacket. You lay down, spreading your legs so he can see your pretty pussy, all wet and needy for him. “Please-”

Jeonghan gets down onto his knees, grabbing and teasing your breast, thumb rubbing over your pebbled nipple. “Beg for it.”

“I want your cock,” you whimper. “Please, I need it inside- I need it so bad, Hannie, please-”

He groans at your words, adjusting so he’s hovering over you. He grabs the base of his throbbing cock, rubbing it through your folds and teasing your clit. You wiggle below him at the stimulus, grabbing at his shoulders. 

Jeonghan can’t help but kiss you as he pushes his length into your pussy, going as deep as he can while you both groan into each other’s mouths. 

Your legs wrap around his hips, keeping him close even as he begins to thrust. 

His free hand finds your clit, drawing circular motions that have you shaking beneath him. “Aw, kitten, are you close too?”

“So close-” you confirm, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. 

He fucks you harder, enjoying the squeaky sounds that escape you and fill the chapel. Jeonghan watches the way your face contorts with pleasure, your body wiggling beneath him while he fills you over and over again with his cock.

“Hannie-” you gasp, walls clenching tighter and tighter around him.

“Come on, kitten. Cum on this cock and beg for me to fill you up like the dirty girl you are.”

“I need your cum,” you cry out, “I need it- please, Hannie, please give it to me-”

He rubs your clit harder and you let out a choked sound, back arching so your tits are pressed to his bare chest. 

“Hannie-” You gasp loudly, your orgasm slamming into you. Your walls contract around Jeonghan’s aching cock, triggering his own high. He lets out a groan, continuing on your clit while he fucks you through it.

There’s no prettier sound in the world than a woman cumming in a church, your moans echoing through the enclosed space like angels singing.

Jeonghan fucks you until he physically can’t fuck you anymore, and then he half collapses on top of you, dragging your lips to his own.

You kiss him desperately, tangling your fingers in his hair so he can’t get away, your legs wrapped tight around him. You’re still whimpering, trying to overcome the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You’re beautiful.

So, so beautiful. 

Three

Wonwoo might actually be obsessed with watching you cum- and if he’s obsessed with watching you cum, then Mingyu’s obsessed with making you cum. Even though they’ve both already filled you with their loads, Mingyu’s back between your thighs again. His large hand is pressed over your abdomen, keeping you from thrashing around while he sucks on your clit and finger fucks the cum back into your abused hole.

Wonwoo is sitting in a chair next to the bed, eyes fixed on your body. If he hadn’t already cum twice, he’d be tempted to pull his cock out again.

“Please- Gyu, I can’t- I can’t-”

“One more,” Wonwoo encourages you. “You can take one more, beautiful.” 

You grab at the sheets, twisting them as Mingyu continues his unrelenting pace between your shaking thighs.

“Fuck-” you whimper, sounds becoming more desperate.

Wonwoo can hear how slick your pussy is, each thrust of Mingyu’s fingers has you squelching-

“She’s gonna cum,” Wonwoo announces, knowing your body almost as well as you do.

Mingyu groans lewdly against your clit, and the vibrations must trigger your orgasm, because you wrap your thighs completely around his head, back arching. Your gasps fill Wonwoo’s room, your grip on his bed released in favour of grabbing Mingyu’s hair.

It’s clear you’re trying to push the man away, but Mingyu doesn’t budge, helping you through your high until tears of pleasure are rolling down your cheeks.

“That’s enough,” Wonwoo says when it becomes clear that you’re bordering on overstimulation. The sniper stands from his chair, gaze lingering on your body. “We asked for one more, and she gave it to us. Give the girl a break.”

Mingyu sighs, but pulls away from your pussy, dragging his fingertips along your throbbing inner walls a few more times before he relents there too. He presents his wet digits to your mouth, and you greedily suck them clean, grabbing his wrist and closing your eyes while you lick up every drop of cum.

“I’ll go grab us food,” Wonwoo sighs. It’s past dinnertime, and as far as Mingyu had been concerned, you’d been his meal, but if Wonwoo is fast, he can make it in time to grab something from the cafeteria.

The barracks have a food stash, but Wonwoo doesn’t have the energy to cook, not after fucking you for two hours. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” he warns as he heads to the door.

“As if she can even walk,” Mingyu laughs, pulling his fingers from your mouth in favour of spooning you on the bed, dragging you close to his chest.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else as he leaves. Seungcheol and Jeonghan aren’t around, something about a meeting with Woozi to look over maps of surrounding locations with potential food stores. 

When Wonwoo passes the Z2 rooms, he finds them also empty. Z2 generally frequent the compound’s survivor zones before bed, doing final checks for the night.

Wonwoo thinks about you the entire walk to the cellblock. He hasn’t been able to get you out of his head lately. There are the physical things- like the look in your eyes when you’re about to cum, the way sweat glistens on your skin, your nipples pebbling under his touch. But there’s the non-physical side too, the way you make him feel at night when you’re curled against his side, neither of you speaking, hands stroking each other gently-

When Wonwoo makes it to the cafeteria, he finds it nearly deserted. Dino is standing to the side of the room with the priest, and Seokmin has just started putting away the last of the food.

Grabbing two trays, Wonwoo immediately heads for Seokmin, who sighs at his lateness but begins serving him anyways. 

The two are silent as Seokmin shovels food for Wonwoo. He doesn’t say anything, but Seokmin serves three portions. As your friend, Wonwoo thinks Seokmin must know about the arrangement you have with Z1, although he’s never mentioned anything about it. 

Wonwoo’s not entirely sure who knows about what’s going on with you and the four men who have solidified themselves as your constant companions. He’d guess that a number of people have figured out there’s some type of arrangement, especially after Seungcheol had insisted you get less work tasks last month when your duties had interfered with his fuck schedule.

Wonwoo can feel eyes on him, and when his trays are full, he turns to look at Dino and the priest. The Z2 member waves him over, and despite every fiber of his being telling Wonwoo to ignore his friend and find his way back to you, Wonwoo approaches the two men.

“That’s a lot of food,” Dino notes.

“Mingyu’s hungry,” Wonwoo says, his gaze shifting to the priest who has a watchful eye that’s always gotten under his skin. “I didn’t know you were friends.”

“I’m friend to anyone who needs an attentive ear,” the priest says smoothly. 

“He’s a really good listener,” Dino confirms.

Joshua cocks his head, staring Wonwoo up and down. “If you ever need-”

“I don’t,” Wonwoo interjects. “Goodnight.”

As he leaves the cafeteria, Wonwoo can hear Dino trying to explain his behaviour. “Wonwoo’s not a big talker,” the Z2 unit member says in a hushed tone.

And even if he was, Wonwoo certainly wouldn’t be talking to Joshua of all people. While many of the survivors clearly like the man, something is off about the priest, and Wonwoo can feel it in his bones.

Four

Mingyu’s knee had been bobbing the entire jeep ride back to the prison. Missions always make him giddy- any day could be his last, and there’s nothing quite like celebrating another day of life with you when the unit gets back to the compound.

He’s not the only one who’s feeling it. Missions often end with a return to the prison and all four men setting off to find you, eager to see who will be successful in their weekly guessing game of ‘where’s baby?’

“I’m checking the chapel,” Jeonghan announces as soon as the car has come to a stop.

“Jeonghan and his church sex obsession,” Cheol sighs, watching his friend dart off.

“She might be in the garden with Hansol,” Wonwoo says thoughtfully. “It’s a nice day out, that always gets her mind off of shit.”

Adjusting the gun over his back, Wonwoo follows Jeonghan out of the parking garage, which leaves Mingyu with the unit leader.

“They’re both going to be wrong,” Seungcheol grins.

“Yeah?”

“Our little princess gets anxious when we’re gone, especially these days,” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair. “My money is she’s waiting in one of our beds, napping to pass the time for us to come back.”

“That does sound like her,” Mingyu admits, and the two of them head to the door that will give them the easiest access to the barracks.

“Jeonghan probably could have figured it out, but you know how he gets about his church blowjobs,” Cheol grins. 

“And Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, wondering about his friend’s motives. 

Seungcheol takes a moment before he responds. “I think he likes it when he gets to see her out in the sun.”

Before the outbreak, when Mingyu and Wonwoo had known each other through the military, Mingyu was the designated lover boy. Wonwoo’s never been the type to even look at girls, and the past few months have been a shock for everyone to see what the stoic sniper looks like when he’s falling for someone.

You and Wonwoo had been a slow burn, due to Wonwoo’s generally quiet nature, but in those first months, Wonwoo had probably spent the most time shadowing you. In that time period, Mingyu would go up to the lookout tower and spot you in the garden, Wonwoo a few feet behind, his hand always on his gun despite Hansol being the only other person with you.

When Seungcheol had broached the idea of your only job being their plaything, it had been the first time you’d ever pushed back, insisting that you liked gardening and helping with the plants. Wonwoo had been right there to back you up, and Seungcheol had begrudgingly agreed to let you keep your ‘little hobby.’

In the back corners of Mingyu’s mind, he kind of hopes you are in the garden right now. Wonwoo had almost died on their mission today- zombie jaws had come within an inch of his arm, and if anyone deserves some ‘you time’ after all of that, it’s Wonwoo.

When Seungcheol and Mingyu make it back to the barracks, Mingyu’s small hopes are dashed. The unit leader is the best at guessing moves, in card games and life, and he’d been spot on about you sleeping in someone’s bed. 

You’re in Jeonghan’s room of all places, and you sit up as the two men enter the common space, watching them set down their guns from the messy tangle of sheets. 

You hop onto your feet at the same time that Mingyu begins to run to you. When you jump into his arms, he lifts you off the floor, spinning you around and burying his face against your throat. 

Hugs are never as tight as they are after missions.

“Are you guys all okay?” you ask when Mingyu sets you down, only for Seungcheol to engulf you in an embrace of his own. 

“We’re all good,” the unit leader responds. “A little banged up, but nothing we can’t handle.”

You pull away from Seungcheol to look at his face, and Mingyu watches the way you brush your thumb across the unit leader’s cheek. “Looks like you need a shower,” you muse, having just wiped away some dirt.

“Looks like we all need a shower,” Seungcheol agreed with a groan. He tosses you over his shoulder and Mingyu grins at the sight. Out of all of them, Cheol’s the biggest man handler, but you clearly don’t mind.

One of the nicest things about their little Z1 master unit is that it comes with it’s own bathroom. The other units have small double occupancy rooms, a common area, and a common shower/toilet space. Mingyu feels bad for the other units sometimes, but rank in military means something; Seungcheol is the highest ranking person at the prison, so he gets to call the shots, and his unit reaps the rewards. 

Z1 has taken advantage of the large shower in their bathroom more times than Mingyu can count. There’s nothing like getting steamy in a room full of steam. 

Seungcheol strips you naked, turning on the shower while Mingyu takes off his clothes too. Mingyu can’t wait anymore, and he tugs your nude form against his own, kissing you stupid.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your beautiful tits pressing up against his bare chest. Mingyu’s cock is already getting hard, pushing up between your bodies. You wiggle your hips, providing stimulus that has him groaning loudly, his hands reaching down to grab your ass.

It’s all too easy for Mingyu to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his body while he carries you into the shower, your lips still locked in a desperate battle. 

Instead of putting you under the stream of water, Mingyu presses you against the wall, slowly allowing you back onto your feet. As much as he’d love to rail you right now, he knows that he’s just as dirty as Seungcheol is at the moment- which means you’ll wash his body for him. God, he loves teasing foreplay like this- the way you immediately grab at the prized bottle of body wash to lather it up in your hands. 

Mingyu watches, holding his breath as you bring your palms to his shoulders, beginning to wash his large frame.

“Dirty boy,” you muse, grinning while you rub away the dirt and grime.

“Dirty girl,” he counters, lifting his hands so he can box you in against the wall.

He sees the way your breath hitches- you like to feel small, and Mingyu loves to deliver on it. He might not be as outwardly dominant as Seungcheol or Wonwoo, but Mingyu knows that his height does something to you- the way he has to tip his head to look down and meet your eyes.

Your hands trail down to his abdomen, nails teasing his skin there while he shivers. He wishes you’d just sink to your knees and wrap your mouth around his cock-

“Turn around for me, big guy,” you grin, pulling your touch away from where he needs you most. 

With a groan, Mingyu does as he’s told, and you begin to wash his back. When you reach up to do his shoulders, he feels your bare tits press against his spine. He closes his eyes, grabbing at his cock to begin stroking himself.

“Hey,” you chastise, immediately seeing what he’s doing and wrapping an arm around his front to grab at his hand. “That’s my job.”

“He’s needy today,” Seungcheol grins, watching from just outside the shower.

“I’m needy every day,” Mingyu corrects, releasing his length only to replace his hand with your own- you’re so much smaller than him, and when he looks down, he loves the way you make his cock look massive with your tiny hand wrapped around the girth. 

You begin to stroke him, and Mingyu lets out a loud groan. 

“Does it feel good, big guy?” you ask, squeezing tighter to his back.

“Feels amazing,” he breathes, closing his eyes to enjoy you. 

“I hate to be the one to say it,” Seungchol laughs, “but water stores have been low lately. As much as I’d love to watch this, we’re supposed to be saving supply by showering together, not taking our sweet time.”

“Then come join, sir, I’m sure you need a good rub down too,” you grin.

Seungcheol takes a step forward- just as the door to the bathroom opens, Wonwoo sliding in. He takes one look at the scene in front of him, and begins stripping down.

The unit leader stops his advances, and it’s clear to Mingyu that Seungcheol knows as well as he does that if one person needs you right now, it’s Wonwoo.

“I’ll wait,” Seungcheol sighs, making room for Wonwoo to slip past him into the shower now that he’s removed his clothes. 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, he simply pushes Gyu to the side and grabs your face, pressing his lips to yours. Your soapy hands find Wonwoo’s toned chest, and you begin to wash him even as he kisses you, pressing you back against the wall. 

Mingyu turns to watch, rinsing the bubbles off his skin while you lather up his best friend. Then, his grip returns to his cock. Your cute little hands have always turned him on, and watching you rub Wonwoo’s shoulders, attacking the specks of dirt there like it’s your job- fuck, everything you do just makes Mingyu horny.

Wonwoo pulls you away from the wall suddenly, spinning you around so your back is now pressed to Mingyu’s chest while the three of you are submerged in water. Mingyu can’t help but lean down and begin to kiss your throat, finding your sweet spot and sucking on it while you whimper and wriggle between their bodies. 

From this vantage point, Mingyu can see your hand slip from Wonwoo’s shoulders and down his chest. You grab at the sniper’s cock, pumping it slowly while Wonwoo continues to kiss you.

The soap washes away quickly, and as soon as you’re all clean, Wonwoo pushes you and Mingyu backward, prompting you to all leave the shower. “Your turn,” Wonwoo tells Cheol as your trio passes him.

“Princess isn’t going to wash me off too?” Cheol’s tone is teasing, but Mingyu can sense the hurt there.

“Not today,” Wonwoo responds gruffy, reaching for one of the towels. He wraps it around your body first, drying you off with efficient motions.

Mingyu grabs his own towel, eager to get rid of the water on his body. He knows what comes next, and he’s not going to waste a second.

When Wonwoo is done with you, you begin to dry him, your lips still tangled together. Mingyu stifles a laugh at the vision in front of him, the way the two of you can be so focused on each other and the task at hand. 

Wonwoo breaks the kiss to look at Mingyu over your shoulder. “If you’re joining, you better go grab some lube.”

“Right-” Mingyu swallows thickly, wrapping a towel around his hips as he exits the bathroom. 

He nearly runs straight into Jeonghan, and the older man grins. “Orgy time?”

“I don’t think so,” Mingyu says, hurrying to his room to grab the bottle of lube he keeps there. “I think it’s me and Wonwoo right now.”

“Cheol must have loved that,” Jeonghan scoffs.

“You two can have her after,” Mingyu promises.

“We will,” Jeonghan laughs, following Mingyu back into the bathroom. 

Wonwoo’s already inside of you, your feet off the ground while the muscular man presses you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his hips. You’re moaning loudly, Wonwoo’s face buried in the crook of your throat. Your eyes open as Jeonghan and Mingyu enter the bathroom, and the look of lust in your expression is enough to have Mingyu throbbing.

“I’ve got the lube,” he announces. 

Keeping up with four men means you’ve gotten adept at anal. Even so, it had taken you two months before you could properly handle Mingyu’s large cock, but the pay off has been… more than fulfilling, to say the least.

Wonwoo pulls you off the wall, and Mingyu slots behind you, squirting some lube on his fingers. The sniper adjusts his hands on your ass, spreading you open for Mingyu so he can press a finger into your tight hole.

You whimper loudly, and Mingyu does his best to soothe you by speckling your shoulders with kisses. “So good for us,” he murmurs.

You’re taking his finger so well, and it prompts him to add a second, stretching you open while you cling to Wonwoo. 

“Hurry up,” the sniper groans, holding still inside of you while Mingyu preps your ass.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Mingyu admits; none of them do.

“I can take it,” you moan. “Please, Gyu-”

“Fuck,” Mingyu breathes, slathering his cock with lube before tossing the bottle into the sink. He grabs his base, rubbing his tip through your cheeks and prodding your hole. “If you need me to stop, just say something.”

He tries his best to be gentle, slowly sinking inch after inch of his long cock into your ass. You cry out loudly, burying your face against Wonwoo’s neck. 

Mingyu doesn’t try to make you take him all in one go, he starts with four inches, thrusting shallowly into your ass. Wonwoo takes the motion as a prompt to continue fucking you too, and the men begin to manhandle you between them, a push-pull.

Behind Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Jeonghan have switched places in the shower. The unit leader is now standing half dried off, water droplets sinking down his toned chest while his hand works his own cock.

They’ve all gotten used to watching each other like this, but the knowledge that Cheol is fixated on the act has Mingyu wanting to prove himself even more. He sinks another inch of his cock into your ass, and you moan lewdly in Wonwoo’s ear, wriggling in their grasp.

“Feels good?” Mingyu asks.

“Feels amazing,” you whimper, nails digging into Wonwoo’s shoulders. “I want more.”

“More?” Mingyu laughs.

“Don’t hold back,” you tell him.

This time, when Mingyu thrusts, he allows his front to hit your ass, his cock fully buried in your tight hole.

You let out a strangled cry.

“Our little cock whore,” Cheol muses, “loves being full to the fucking brim.”

“Sir-” you whimper, your walls tightening around Mingyu.

“Fuck, I’m close-” Mingyu groans at the sensation. “Baby, you’re close too, right? Fuck, you’re squeezing us so fucking tight-”

“I’m close, I’m close-” you nod desperately.

“Gonna let us cum and fill you up the way you like-”

“Gyu, please-” you whimper, reaching behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair, drawing his lips to your throat.

“We’ll fill you up,” Mingyu promises.

Wonwoo’s not much of a talker in bed, especially under the watchful gaze of Jeonghan and Seungcheol. But when it’s just Wonwoo, Gyu and you, Wonwoo gets out of his shell more. Mingyu’s become an expert at listening to his older friend’s sounds, of anticipating when he’s on the brink-

The soft grunts escaping the sniper’s lips are a clear indicator that he’s as close to the edge as you and Gyu are. Mingyu knows better than anyone that the moment you cum, it’s over for them both. They don’t have the control Seungcheol does to hold off an orgasm while your walls throb around them, and they don’t have the vindictive side to edge you.

No, Wonwoo and Mingyu understand each other. What you see is what you get, and when you begin to beg, they’ll give you anything and everything you could ever ask them for.

“Please, fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you cry as they both fuck you even rougher.

“Cum for us, beautiful,” Wonwoo groans. “Cum on our cocks.”

You let out a pitchy scream, and your walls clamp down on Mingyu’s length, driving him into a frenzy as you throw him over the edge with you. His fingers dig into your hips, his cock pistoning in and out of your ass while Wonwoo matches the fevered pace. The two men moan deeply while your body milks them for all they’re worth, drawing their cum deep inside of you.

“Holy shit-” Mingyu moans. He’s not one to cry from sex like you are, not the type to get so overstimulated that tears fall, but fuck, he feels like he’s on the verge of it tonight.

His body takes over, his animalistic instincts driving him to fuck you through your high even though his muscles are screaming at him to stop. His cock is throbbing endlessly, pleasure surging along his skin hotter than any shower water ever could be.

It’s Wonwoo who stops first, pressing his lips to yours while you grab his face, moaning like their perfect little whore. Mingyu’s thrusts end shortly after, his cock buried deep in your hole, his chest pressed to your back while he kisses your neck.

The sound of the shower has stopped. Mingyu’s not sure when that happened, but when he opens his eyes to inspect what’s going on, he finds Cheol wiping his own cum off his chest.

“What about round two?” Jeonghan asks, cock in hand as he stands in the shower.

“No round two,” Wonwoo says flatly. 

“No round two?” Jeonghan looks shocked, and his gaze shifts to Seungcheol. “Is he allowed to declare that?”

“They fucked her stupid, Hannie,” Seungcheol laughs. “You should have had the brains to make yourself cum while you had a show.”

Mingyu pulls out of your ass, and the two of you groan at the loss. Grabbing some tissues, Mingyu immediately cleans up the cum leaking from your hole. When he’s done, Wonwoo heads to the door with you still embraced against his chest. Mingyu follows like a helpless puppy as the sniper takes you to his room. 

It’s evident that Wonwoo is intent on cuddling you now, and it’s clear from your expression that you’re on the verge of passing out. To make things easier on everyone, Mingyu puts his towel onto the bed, hoping to catch any more cum that’s going to drip out of your used holes.

As the three of you settle onto the bed, Wonwoo’s the one who holds you close to his chest, and Mingyu’s more than happy to be the big spoon behind you.

“You’re in a mood,” you whisper, clearly speaking to Wonwoo. Your finger traces his collarbone, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his throat. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alive,” Wonwoo says simply.

Mingyu knows it’s not his place to join this conversation. He feels lucky that he can even witness it, that the two of you feel comfortable enough being even slightly vulnerable together in front of him. 

If Wonwoo’s not going to go into details about his near zombification bite today, Mingyu’s not going to bring it up either, although the sentiment of the words ‘I’m alive’ weigh heavily on his heart.

When this whole thing had started, Mingyu thinks you were all taking each day like it was your last. But now, six months in, it’s clear you all have something important to live for.

Call it love, call it attraction, call it lust- whatever it is, it’s the glue holding you and the unit together, the thing that’s become worth fighting for.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you tell Wonwoo, but when you place your hand over Mingyu’s, it’s clear you’re talking to them both.

Mingyu squeezes your fingers gently, a silent agreement that he’s happy you’re all living another day. 

If anything ever happened to any of you at this point in your unconventional relationship, he’s not sure he could continue going on.

Five

Joshua has been distracted his entire sermon. It’s getting hard to read the holy words while his brain is preoccupied with the most unholy of thoughts.

He’s known for a while that the Z1 unit tosses you amongst themselves. He’s heard Jeonghan fucking you more times than he can count. But he’s never witnessed any of these… indiscretions with his own eyes. 

Until now.

He’d been out for a walk in the morning, touring the prison garden with the hopes of bumping into you. What he’d stumbled upon, however, was the sight of you pressed against a wall, the Z1 sniper’s pants hung low on his hips, your legs wrapped around his body while he fucked you stupid, his hand clamped over your mouth.

Joshua had been frozen- or maybe he’d chosen to stay, although it’s hard to admit that to himself. Despite the palm over your lips, your muffled whimpers had still been music to the priest’s ears, and he can’t get the song of you out of his head.

And then you’d opened your eyes, looking directly at him.

Joshua’s voice hitches, and he mentally smacks himself, clearing his throat as he continues the passage he’s reading to the group of adoring survivors. They have no clue that the podium he’s standing behind is hiding the half-chub growing in his pants, and Joshua almost revels at the secret knowledge, the secret sin. 

If only they knew what the dirty priest thinks about when no one else was around.

The chapel door opens, and Joshua pauses to watch you slip into a seat in the very back.

You’ve never come to one of these before, and it can’t be a coincidence that today of all days, you’re here to listen to him speak.

Your presence is a distraction, but it also pushes Joshua to do better. He wants to perform for you, wants to show you how good his sermons can be.

It almost feels as if the passages end too quickly for Joshua’s liking, and with a closing statement, survivors begin to dispurse. By now, his half chub has died down, and Joshua stands in front of the church, bidding goodnight to the parishioners who come to thank him for service. 

Even as he chats briefly with people, his eyes keep finding you.

You haven’t moved from your seat, and as more bodies leave, it becomes clear that you have a motive behind being here.

Finally, it’s just the two of you left. Joshua approaches, his hands clasped in front of his body. “You came,” he notes, delighted at the double entendre to his words. 

“Yeah, I uh…” you lick your lips. “Father, I wanted to apologize-”

“We have a confession booth for that,” Joshua muses. “You’ve been here six months, I think it’s time, don’t you?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes shifting to the booths in the corner of the chapel. “Do we really have to do this there?”

“There’s no better place,” he assures you, stepping back and holding out a hand in the direction of the confessionals. “After you.”

After a moment of deliberation, you stand up, nodding as you pass the priest. As you walk in front of him, Joshua notes your body. You’re wearing a jacket and a dress, the cream colour of the skirt’s fabric almost looks virginal, except he knows better. You’re anything but a virgin.

When you get to the booth, you look at both doors. “Which one-”

“On the left, darling.”

With another tight lipped smile and a nod, you enter the confession booth.

Joshua takes a deep breath, his skin tingling with excitement. As he enters the priest’s side, his mind reels with the possibilities of what you’re about to say to him. 

Joshua revels in the knowledge that his parishioners bestow upon him. Their confessions help him figure them out, see what makes them tick. He’s long been wondering about you and your… motives for being.

You’re a math problem he can’t wait to crack, and he’s excited for you to give him a cheat sheet.

The booth is silent, and Joshua waits patiently. 

Finally, you sigh. “How do I even begin?”

“A confession generally starts when you say ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.’ then you tell me how long it’s been since your last confession, and we go from there,” Joshua explains. 

He can hear you breathing, can feel the anxiety wafting off of you.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you say. “It’s been… too many days to count since my last confession.”

There’s silence again, and it’s clear you need more guidance. “What are your sins, darling?”

“Lust,” you blurt out. “Lust is a big one… and I think… probably greed too. Do you think I’m greedy, Father?”

He definitely thinks you’re greedy. One girl being passed around by four men- it’s as greedy and lustful as he’s ever seen, but Joshua keeps that to himself. “I’d need more details about your situation in order to make an adequate assessment.”

“Well, I mean… you saw me with Wonwoo today.”

Joshua stays silent.

“I just want you to know… We didn’t think anyone would see us.”

“God sees all.”

“God I can handle, but you? It’s different that you saw it.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, because-” you pause. “It’s just different.”

Joshua considers your words. “We live in rough times,” he says finally. “Unprecedented days. It’s not unusual to seek comfort in a situation like this. I would never judge you for finding comfort in the arms of a man like Wonwoo.”

“Except… I think… I think we both know it’s not just Wonwoo I seek comfort in.”

Joshua’s heart beats loud in his chest, and excitement tingles across his skin. “Go on, darling.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

“Why are you apprehensive?” Joshua asks.

“I was asked not to discuss this with anyone, but- I mean, you saw me and Wonwoo, so I wanted to come here to apologize for that, not to get into the messy details.”

The priest immediately guesses the culprit behind your secrecy. It’s just like Choi Seungcheol to give you a boundary like this. You’re the Z1 unit’s open little secret. Anyone with eyes trained to look can see what’s going on, but the prison has a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. And no one pries into the personal lives of Choi Seungcheol or his men.

“It would feel better to confess,” Joshua tells you. “No one would have to know.”

“I’d know.”

“And it would stay between us. You can trust me.” Joshua’s a master secret keeper, and he’s eager to add yours to his long list of indiscretions carried out by desperate survivors.

“That’s the thing, Father, I’m not sure I can.”

“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” Joshua asked, perplexed by you. Has he been slipping? 

No, it couldn’t be. His carefully created mask is good enough to charm and convince anyone-

“Wonwoo wasn’t happy about you stumbling across us today,” you note.

Ahh, Joshua nods to himself, Wonwoo, the sniper with the sharp eyes. Things are beginning to make sense. 

“Maybe Wonwoo should be in the confessional, not you,” Joshua muses.

“He’d never come here,” you laugh. “He wouldn’t even want me to be here right now, not alone.”

“And yet, here you are, darling. Alone.” 

“This wasn’t a good idea.”

Joshua hears you stand up. Part of him wants to find a way to manipulate you into staying, but he’s already toed the line by calling you ‘darling’ multiple times. If he does anything else, it might incur the wrath of Seungcheol. The priest still has plausible deniability on his side for the petnames, but anything further might be the tipping point.

“I’m always here,” Joshua assures you, wondering if you’ll clue into the word ‘always,’ and see the true meaning there. “You’re welcome in my confessional any time.”  

Six

Your pulse is still racing from your interaction with the priest when you make it back to the Z1 dorm. Your four lovers are playing cards, a general pastime for them when they’re not blowing your back out, and they all look up as you slip inside the room.

“Baby?” Mingyu puts his cards down, standing to address you. “Are you alright?”

“Me? Yeah- of course, why wouldn’t I be alright?” you ask.

“You look off,” Wonwoo notes, also getting to his feet, an expression of concern evident in his handsome features.

“Tell us what happened,” Seungcheol commands.

“Sir-”

“Tell us,” he insists.

“I went to the chapel,” you tell them, watching Wonwoo’s expression drop. “I uh- the priest saw me and Wonwoo today so I went to apologize-”

“The priest caught you?” Jeonghan laughs, still seated and clearly enjoying the drama unfolding in front of him. “Naughty, naughty.” 

“Shut it,” Seungcheol warns his friend, gaze shifting back to you. “Then what happened?”

You swallow thickly. “We went into the confessional and- I mean, I didn’t tell him anything, but, there was something about the vibes- the way he spoke to me-”

“How did he speak to you?” Wonwoo questions, irritation clear in his tone.

“I can’t explain it,” you sigh. “It almost felt… It almost felt like he was flirting with me- and maybe, maybe I gave him the wrong idea, I don’t know- it was weird.”

“Maybe you gave him the wrong idea,” Seungcheol repeats your words back to you. “Have you been flirting with the priest, princess?”

“I don’t think so-”

“You don’t think so,” Seungcheol scoffs. “Sounds like we all need to go have a talk with this fucking priest.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Jeonghan says, jumping to his feet and drawing all eyes. “I mean- come on, he’s a man of God, right? He probably wasn’t flirting with her-”

“Why so jumpy, Hannie?” Seungcheol turns to his friend, looking him up and down. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Then you’ll have no problems if we go have a chat with him. All of us. Right now.” It’s clear that this isn’t a suggestion, it’s an order.

Seungcheol heads to the door, holding it open and looking at your group expectantly. Mingyu’s the first to sigh and head out. Jeonghan is next, and you can’t help but notice the slight skip to his step, as if he’s excited about what’s to come.

Wonwoo grabs your forearm, dragging you past Cheol. “Going to the chapel alone wasn’t a good idea,” he tells you. 

“I know,” you frown. “I knew that while I was there. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol falls into step on your other side, his gaze forward, jaw set. 

“You know how I feel about that man,” Wonwoo continues. 

You nod. “You don’t trust him.”

“Can you even imagine how any of us would react if something happened to you?” Wonwoo asks, his grip tightening on your forearm.

“Joshua is a priest,” you insist. “He wouldn’t do anything-”

“He’s more capable than you give him credit for. All survivors are,” Wonwoo states harshly. “We’re still alive for a reason. Some of us had to do bad things to get where we are now, and I wouldn’t be shocked if your priest has made choices that even his own God wouldn’t like.”

You can’t respond, because you know what Wonwoo’s saying is true.

In fact, if anyone on the base is able to spot a predator, it’s probably the man holding your arm. He’s a sniper, and it’s his job to see threats and dispose of them before they become a problem. 

The five of you are silent as you make your way through the prison, heading outside to walk the short distance to the chapel. When you get there, Jeonghan pushes the door open. He’s been here so many times that he has no problem entering the sacred space, but the rest of you are a little more hesitant.

Mingyu heads inside, leaving you on the doorstep with Seungcheol and Wonwoo.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Wonwoo states.

“You’ve never doubted me before, don’t start now,” Seungcheol grins. “A talk with this priest has been long overdue, don’t you think?”

“She doesn’t have to be here for this,” the sniper looks down at you.

“Of course she has to be here for this,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I know you don’t like Joshua, but you have to trust me on this.”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, watching Seungcheol enter the chapel. When it’s just the two of you still outside, Wonwoo cups your cheek. “Whatever happens in there, it won’t change how I feel about you. How any of us feel about you.”

“What do you think is about to happen?” you ask, confused at the ominous tone that’s been set.

Your sniper simply stares at you for a few moments, then he looks down, a muscle in his jaw feathering. “With Seungcheol in charge, you never know.”

Wonwoo kisses you then, and he’s surprisingly gentle. You kiss him back, leaning against his strong chest- the door to the chapel opens and Mingyu pokes his head out, “Are you two coming, or what?”

With a sigh, you enter the church. Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Joshua are standing by the podium in the front. They’re speaking too quietly for you to hear what they’re saying, but they all look up when you enter.

Joshua’s the first to smile. “Seungcheol has told me that you’re here for a real confession this time.”

“Hmm?” Your gaze shifts to the unit leader, and he grins.

“Go on, princess,” Seungcheol encourages. “The confession booth is all yours. We’ll be right here, for moral support.”

Wonwoo lets out an annoyed sound, but he doesn’t stop you as you stumble to follow through with Seungcheol’s command. You make your way to the confession booth, hand shaking as you pull away the long velvet curtain to step inside.

Your heart is racing wildly in your chest, but you try to be patient as you wait for the priest to enter his own side. 

When you hear Joshua sit down, you do your best to remember how this starts. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been… an hour since my last confession.”

There’s a distinctly Jeonghan-like snicker from outside the booth, and it sets your stomach into knots. 

You’re hyper-aware of the fact that all four of your lovers are just outside the confessional, that they’re listening in- it’s making your mouth dry, your palms becoming sweaty as you rub them against your dress.

“When you last confessed, you mentioned greed and lust as your sins. Would you care to elaborate more on that?” The priest asks. “Maybe it will be easier, now that you’re amongst… friends.” 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.

“In my experience, the truth is what’s important,” Joshua muses smoothly.

“I think… I think I’m here right now because I told Seungcheol about coming to you earlier. There was something- something I couldn’t quite explain about the interaction.”

“Go on.”

“It almost…” you swallow thickly. “It almost felt like you were flirting with me, Father.”

“Greed and lust are most definitely your sins,” Joshua notes. “Would you have liked it if I was flirting with you?”

Someone whispers ‘what the fuck’ from outside the confessional, and you’re pretty sure it was Wonwoo. He’s voicing your own thoughts, and you scramble for a response.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you admit. 

“I’d like to tell you something, and I think you should consider it when looking at your sinful actions. Perhaps you can think of it as a way to release yourself from any shame you feel.” Joshua’s tone is soothing, and you hang onto what he’s about to say next. “While many men of my religion believe that God created the world and all its creatures in a matter of days, I think a lot can be learned from a Darwinian approach to life. Our closest ancestors are primates. They live in a warzone. Nothing is guaranteed but death. I’d be tempted to confess that their psychology isn’t that different from our own these days. Survivors of an apocalypse become no better than our primitive ancestors, and our behaviours are reflective of that. When certain species of female primates ovulate, and head out in search of a partner, do you know what they do?”

“Erm… no, Father.”

“The female bonobo primate will mate with as many fit males as possible. There are a number of reasons for this, but the primary one seems to be the need for protection. Not only for herself, but for future offspring. A male bonobo is less likely to throw out a baby if there’s a chance it could be his own. I would guess you’re using a contraceptive, but the psychology of a female in need of a band of male protectors in desperate times still applies. It’s animal nature, and the world we live in now has turned us all into animals. Instincts take precedence over logic. You might be greedy and lustful, but I would argue that you’ve needed to be in order to secure your survival.” 

“I…” you clear your throat, mind spinning at what he’s just suggested so eloquently. “I can’t believe you’re comparing us all to primates.”

“And how do you know so much about monkeys?” Mingyu asks loudly from outside the confessional, earning a chorus of snickers.

“If you won’t accept this comparison as… a justification of your greedy and lustful ways, then how about you try to explain it yourself?” Joshua suggests, ignoring everyone but you.

“I think… maybe I just like to be fucked,” you admit. “I think we all come at this from different backgrounds, with different motives for what we do.”

Joshua lets out an understanding sigh. “And what are your friend’s motives?”

“Mingyu likes companionship. He’s like me. He needs reassurance, needs physical touch. Jeonghan likes the fun of it all. He likes enjoying himself, likes to indulge. Wonwoo… I think it started as something just physical for him. A way to distract himself from the pressure he has on his shoulders. And Seungcheol likes to dominate. He likes to feel as if he’s won at something. I’m guessing he sees this whole thing as a punishment.”

“A punishment?” Joshua enquires. “For you?”

“For me mostly,” you nod. “He likes to humiliate me in certain ways, and I think this might be one of them. He also likes to challenge God, he’s not a believer, so I’m guessing he’s enjoying this because we’re bringing sin into a place of worship. He’s in control right now. Not you, not me, not even Wonwoo-”

“Is Wonwoo also receiving this punishment?” the priest asks.

“Of course he is. Wonwoo doesn’t like you, that’s no secret, Father.”

“What did the two of you do to deserve such a punishment?”

“I admitted that I probably flirted with you a little,” you say quietly, your skin heating at the admission. “And Wonwoo’s been taking more of my time recently, been talking back to Seungcheol in ways that Seungcheol hasn’t liked.”

“It’s quite the dynamic you’ve found yourself a part of,” Joshua muses. “An entanglement of wants, needs… indulgences. If you have such a good understanding of Seungcheol, how do you think this whole thing will play out for you?”

“I think he’d like for me to confess in deeper detail, confess my personal sins instead of talking about the others so much. I think he’d like for me to feel dirty, and when this confession is over, I’m guessing he’ll prove how dirty I am, here in this church, for all your eyes and God to see.”

“How would you feel about that?” Joshua asks.

“Humiliated… excited…” you consider the emotions running through you. “I’d feel like I’d done something to deserve it, which I have.”

“A simple thing like flirting doesn’t constitute a punishment of this magnitude. What other sins have you partaken in? If you know Seungcheol wants details, you should give us all details.”

You take a deep breath. “I’ve done practically everything a lustful greedy sinner could do to deserve this. I’ve had more orgies than I can count. I’ve had three men inside of me at once. I’ve been filled with cum over and over and over again. I’ve been insatiable, always greedy and ready to take more. I’ve been fucked to the point of passing out, only to awaken and go another round. I’ve reveled in the fact that I have four men who like watching me get fucked, who touch themselves to the view of their friends fucking me to the point where I can’t talk or walk. I’ve become a fuck toy instead of doing actual survivor work in the prison, giving into my own greedy desires instead of the good of others. I’ve had sex in all sorts of places that I never thought I’d have sex in-”

“Like this church,” Joshua interrupts you. “You’ve desecrated it before.”

“I-” your heart thunders in your chest. 

“Admit it,” the priest insists.

“Father, I-”

“You’ve been a very, very bad girl.” 

You hate that you’re getting wet from this. There’s a feeling of relief that’s come from confessing your lustful ways, and now Joshua’s deeper tone is setting you on edge. He’s degrading you, like Cheol does, but it feels more extreme coming from a man of God- from a priest who clearly knows you’ve been fucked in his place of worship.

“What’s the correct penance for a naughty whore like her?” Seungcheol’s voice makes your skin tingle. He opens the confessional fabric screen, staring down at you. His thumbs are hooked in his belt, and the way the light hits him from behind makes him look shockingly angelic and demonic at the same time. It illuminates his broad shoulders, the soft curls of his hair- but his face is shadowed.

“Sir-” you whisper, cowering against the back of the booth.

“It’s clear that she’s insatiable,” Joshua responds smoothly, shifting on his side of the confessional. “I’d say you’re within your right to do anything you want to her. As long as I’m here, the dirty ways you choose to defile her will be penance, a Godly act.”

“A Godly act,” Seungcheol grins, turning to look over his shoulder at the others. “I don’t know why you’re so offput by this priest, Wonwoo, he makes all the sense in the world to me.” The unit leader’s eyes find you again. “Now, what to do with our naughty little whore of a princess.”

“I think you know what we’re going to do to her,” Jeonghan says sinisterly from outside the booth.

“Yes, but in what order… decisions, decisions.” Seungcheol cocks his head to the side. “I think I’ll have you first, pretty girl. I was the first one to have you in the beginning, it’s only fair that I have you first now.”

You can’t help yourself, you drop to your knees, shuffling forward. Seungcheol’s grin widens, and he looks down at you while you begin to undo his belt. 

“Good girl,” he muses, threading his fingers through your hair as you pull down his pants. He’s already hard, his cock springing up toward your face. You can feel yourself beginning to drool, and you grab his base, guiding him to your mouth. 

Seungcheol releases a low groan as you begin to blow him in the confessional. You don’t hold anything back. You sink down on him as much as you can, suctioning your lips around him and swirling your tongue. Even so, it’s not enough for Seungcheol. His grip tightens in your hair, holding you still so he can begin to fuck your face.

You moan around his cock, relaxing your throat so he can go as deep as he wants- and Seungcheol always likes to test your limits.

Your hands find his strong thighs, looking for something to anchor yourself while he uses you for his own pleasure. 

“Letting me fuck your face in a confessional, this is a new low, even for you, princess,” Seungcheol laughs, pulling you off his cock. “Open.”

You part your lips, sticking out your tongue. Seungcheol spits into your mouth.

“Now swallow,” he instructs, smirking as you follow through with the command. “Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you, Sir,” you whimper.

“Keep that in mind tonight,” he warns, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He squeezes you roughly, and then pulls you to your feet. Seungcheol thrusts you out of the confessional, holding you against his chest while your eyes take in the men all crowded outside. “Who do you want after I’m done with you?”

You can’t help but shift your gaze to Wonwoo, not because you want him to be next in line, but because you’re worried about how this is affecting him. He’d been more riled up than you’ve ever seen him before when you’d entered the chapel, and now that it’s clear Joshua will be joining this orgy, you wonder how he’s feeling.

Seungcheol follows your eyes. “Wonwoo goes last,” the unit leader announces.

“The priest goes last,” Wonwoo retorts, the words coming out in something near a growl.

“Now I see what she meant about him talking back,” Joshua muses as he steps out of his side of the booth. “Is that any way to speak to your superior?”

Wonwoo clenches his jaw tightly. If looks could kill, the priest would be dead, but it simply makes the man standing next to you laugh. The sound causes an ache in the pit of your stomach.

Jealousy has never been a part of this dynamic- that’s what makes this whole thing work. You worry about the implications this night will have on the rest of your time in the prison, worry about your safety going forward.

“Okay, princess,” Seungcheol brings his lips to your ear, his hands sneaking down the front of your dress and gripping the fabric, “I’m done waiting.”

In one quick motion, he reaches under your skirt, grabbing your panties and tearing them off. Then he pushes you forward, bending you at a ninety degree angle while he brings his cock to your soaked core. 

“I knew you’d be wet from this,” Seungcheol laughs, rubbing his tip through your pussy lips. “You know, priest, she wasn’t lying when she said she revels in the act of being watched. She goes fucking crazy for it. Let me show you just how crazy she gets.”

Seungcheol sinks his cock into your tight hole and you moan desperately, trying your best to hold yourself up in this position with your fingertips to the floor. The unit leader’s hands are on your hips, and he begins to rut into you roughly, forcing squeaks and moans of pleasure to slip out of you.

“Tell us how much you love this,” Seungcheol prompts.

“Fuck, I love it so much- oh my god-”

“Bet you’d love it more if you had something to suck on.”

Jeonghan and Mingyu both step forward immediately, and you feel Seungcheol’s hand leave your hips as he points at the elder of the two. “You.”

“Thank God,” Jeonghan grins, already working on his belt. “It’s been too long since I fucked your face in this church, kitten.”

“Put your hands behind your back,” Seungcheol instructs.

“I can’t-” you’re hardly stable and standing as it is, bent over like this.

“Give me one wrist,” the leader insists, grabbing it as soon as you’ve presented it to him. “And now the other.” With both your hands caught in a bruising grip, Seungcheol helps stabilize you, holding you up from behind. Your muscles are already beginning to ache, but when Jeonghan slips his cock into your mouth, you nearly forget about the burn.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” Jeonghan groans, thrusting gently in comparison to the man fucking your pussy. 

“She likes it too, gets all tight and wet whenever you hit the back of her throat,” Seungcheol laughs. “She loves being used like this.”

You can only moan like a whore around Jeonghan, an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Gyu’s already touching himself, princess,” the unit leader tells you. “You love it when he gets needy and can’t wait.”

You do, you love it more than you can ever put into words-

“Tell her how good she looks like this,” Seungcheol demands.

“You look so fucking good,” Mingyu groans. “Our perfect little baby-”

“Your perfect little whore,” the priest laughs. 

“Mingyu’s too soft on her,” Seungcheol says with a grunt, fucking you so hard that your legs begin to shake. “He always has been, and he always will be.”

Great, now Seungcheol’s degrading Mingyu too. He’s not usually like this. You’re not sure why he’s in such a mood today- or why he has such good compatibility with Joshua.

“Enough talk, fuck,” Jeonghan groans. “If you’re not going to cum in her soon, I will.”

“You know I only cum when she begs,” Seungcheol retorts.

Jeonghan is quick to pull you off his cock, fisting your hair while tendrils of spit keep you tied to his throbbing tip. 

“Fuck, please, sir- I can hardly stand- please, I need your cum-”

Seungcheol laughs darkly. “You can do better than that.”

“Sir, I’ll die without it. I need it- I need it deep inside, please, I want you dripping out of me for days-”

His speed increases as you babble pathetically, and you can feel your core tightening around him. 

“I’m gonna cum- fuck, Sir, please, please cum with me, please- please let me cum-”

“Cum on my cock, dirty girl, show everyone how much you love getting fucked like this.”

As your orgasm slams into you, so does Jeonghan’s cock. He fills your mouth, muffling your sounds of pleasure while Seungcheol fills your pussy. Your entire body is thrumming with hot energy, alight with the ecstasy that your lovers always provide.

You can feel your wet walls milking Seungcheol’s cock, and his low groans only make your pussy throb harder, your orgasm lasting so long that it almost hurts.

It’s hard to breathe with Jeonghan fucking your face, but the lack of oxygen only adds to the copious stimulus, and you can already feel yourself beginning to cry a little from how good it all is.

The moment Seungcheol’s finished, Jeonghan is tearing himself away from your mouth. “My turn, my turn-” he insists, tugging you off of Seungcheol only to flip you around with your back to his chest. He bends you over in the same manner that his superior did, sliding his cock into your cum filled hole. “Fuck-”

“Hannie-” you whimper, legs still shaky.

“I know, I know,” he coos at you. “I’ll give you what you want.”

His hand wraps around your body, fingers finding your aching clit. You’d cum from penetration alone with Seungcheol, and your sensitive bud had been throbbing at the missed action- now, each rub of Jeonghan’s digits has you crying out.

“Need you to cum again,” Jeonghan tells you. “You can do that for me, right? Cum on my cock just like you did for Cheol- you’re a good girl, aren’t you, kitten?”

“I’m good,” you insist, on the verge of tears again.

Suddenly, hands are cupping your face, and you open your eyes to see Mingyu on his knees in front of you. He wipes your tears away with his thumb, pressing his lips to yours. “Wanna see you cum, baby,” he murmurs.

There’s nothing like a gentle touch after the number Cheol just did on you, and something about Mingyu’s words tip you over the edge. You gasp against his lips, pussy clamping down on Jeonghan like a vice while he groans loudly.

You feel him spilling deep inside of you, pressing his hips flush to your ass while your walls contract around his cock. “Fucking hell-” Jeonghan grunts, thrusting shallowly while orgasms surge through you both.

Mingyu kisses you deeper, his large hand finding the back of your neck, stroking you while his tongue invades your mouth. You get lost in the kiss while your orgasm subsides, and when Jeonghan pulls out of you, you crumple down onto your knees.

“Come here,” Mingyu says softly, collecting you into his lap while he sits against the wood floor. There’s no cushioning tonight, no jacket placed down to make things easy on you. Your knees hurt as they dig against the hardwood, but part of you thinks you deserve the pain while you wriggle against Mingyu, immediately grinding on his hard cock while cum begins to drip out of you.

Mingyu grabs your dress, tearing it off your body to reveal your naked form to the house of God. Your hand finds his cock, pumping him desperately-

“Two loads are never enough,” Seungcheol muses, but his words feel distant while you kiss Mingyu. “Look at her, stroking him off- I bet she can’t even last a minute before taking him next.”

He’s right. You hate that he’s right. 

Although, in this instance, you don’t want to fuck Mingyu only for yourself, you want to fuck him for him too. He’s clearly as needy as you are tonight, moaning sinfully when you kiss down his throat, finding his sweet spot and sucking it.

“Can you take me, baby?” he asks. “It’s okay if you can’t-”

God, you love him. 

He doesn’t realize that you have something to prove. Doesn’t realize that tonight, failure is not an option.

You lift yourself up enough to bring his tip to your core, and then you sink down on every glorious inch he has to offer. 

Mingyu practically whimpers into the kiss, and the sound of it releases something feral inside of you. Suddenly you don’t care about your knees getting bruised on the floor, you simply want to fuck this man like you’ve never fucked him before.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you push him onto the ground. Your hips begin to move and you tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him desperately while you ride him. His cock is so big- so long and hard, that it gives you a lot to work with. There’s no fear of it slipping out, no fear of losing him- he’s yours, completely. 

Mingyu is groaning into the kiss, his hands skimming down your back and grabbing your ass, helping you with each thrust.

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan breathes. “I didn’t know she could ride like that.”

“That’s cuz you like to fuck her face,” Seungcheol retorts.

“Still,” Jeonghan insists, “look at our little superstar go.”

Their words make you more confident, and you push yourself up using Mingyu’s shoulders as leverage. You throw your head back, moaning loudly in the sanctity of the church. You’re aware that you’re giving every man watching a full view of you now, your breasts bouncing, hips rutting wildly as you claw at Mingyu’s chest-

You open your eyes. Seungcheol’s sitting on a pew, his boots up on the bench in front of him, where Joshua is perched. Wonwoo’s leaning against the confessional, arms crossed over his chest. Jeonghan is simply sitting on the floor a few feet away. They’re all watching you intently.

“Gyu,” Seungcheol says suddenly, taking off his dog tag and throwing it at the two of you, “put this around her neck.”

“What?” Mingyu tilts his head to the side, a large, muscled arm reaching out across the church floor to grab the chain.

“In case our little whore loses track of who’s already filled her up,” Seungcheol explains, although, you’re pretty sure that won’t be a problem. 

No, as Seungcheol’s dogtag is placed around your neck, followed quickly by Jeonghan’s, you think this must be another way of your men to claim you as theirs.

Joshua doesn’t have a dog tag, his mark won’t be around your neck like a collar showing off who you belong to.

As you ride Mingyu, the dogtags bounce against your breasts, the metal clinking softly together. The material is cool against your hot skin, and you hate that you enjoy it like this.

Mingyu sits up abruptly, burying his face in your tits. His mouth wraps around your nipple and you claw at his hair, throwing your head back and moaning. “Fuck, puppy-”

You hardly ever call him by that petname, but it feels fitting like this. Mingyu groans, palming your other breast with his hand, and it’s a confirmation that he enjoys the term. 

“You’re so deep-” you continue, knowing he also loves praise. “You fill me up so good-”

Mingyu’s arms wrap around the small of your back, and then he’s rolling the two of you so he’s in the top position. He adjusts your thighs, pressing one up against your chest as he begins to fuck into you hard and deep, hitting spots that have you clawing at the floor.

Part of you wants to leave a mark on the wooden planks outside the confessional, a constant reminder to Joshua that you’ve desecrated this holy place. That he’s allowed you to do so, that he’s even sanctioned it. 

Mingyu’s lips find your throat, and a shiver runs through you. One hand threads through his hair, massaging his scalp while he fucks his friends’ cum deep into your core. Your other hand lifts from the floor, sneaking between your bodies to find your clit.

Your pussy clenches at the touch, and Mingyu groans lewdly, fucking you even harder.

“I’m close, puppy,” you tell him, panting in his ear. “I’m so fucking close-”

“Me too,” he whimpers, sucking on your ear. “Me too, baby, fuck- you feel so good-”

“You feel good too,” you assure him, applying more pressure to your clit. “So, so good, Gyu-”

“Shit, I can’t-”

“Cum for me, puppy, please, just cum for me-” you beg, drawing his lips to yours as he groans loudly, shooting his load into your pussy.

His thrusts are rough and erratic, and he triggers your own orgasm, making you gasp into the kiss. The two of you are panting, tongue tied and animalistic as you work through your shared high. 

You claw at his back- it’s as though you need him closer, you want to devour him even though he’s as physically close to you as he ever possibly could be.

Mingyu’s large form shudders as his orgasm subsides, and you know he’s on the verge of overstimulation. He’d kept fucking you for your sake, not his own, and you kiss him lovingly at the thought. 

The two of you have a close bond. You take care of eachother, and you always will. 

Mingyu finally breaks the kiss, looking down at you while he catches his breath. “I-” he swallows thickly. There’s a deep emotion brewing behind his chocolate brown eyes, and you wonder if he’ll voice it for the first time, in front of everyone else. “Wonwoo hyung probably wants you now.”

Your adoring puppy boy pulls out of you, and you whimper at the loss. He sits back on his heels, looking down at you, then he takes off his dog tag, gently placing it around your neck to join the others.

You turn to look at Wonwoo, and he smiles at you softly from where he’s leaning on the confessional. “Hey, beautiful, can you walk?”

You nod, allowing Mingyu to help you up onto shaky legs. You’re aware of the cum beginning to drip down your thighs with each step you take, but you can’t bring yourself to care. When you finally make it to Wonwoo, you throw your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the way he hugs you, twirling you around so you’re now the one pressed up against the confession booth.

His lips meet yours. It’s not a hungry kiss, not at first. It’s a kiss that speaks a thousand words, and yet, none at all. It’s a kiss that reassures you that everything he said at the door before you entered the church was true. 

‘Whatever happens in there, it won’t change how I feel about you.’

When you’d started all of this six months ago, the last person you expected to have a true soft spot for was Wonwoo. He’s not a huge talker, but when he does speak, he’s sincere. It’s one of your favourite things about him- well, that, and the way that his arms have started to feel like the first home you’ve experienced since the outbreak.

His hand cups the back of your head, and the kiss deepens. You press your bare chest against his own, moaning at the contact. Wonwoo grins, nibbling at your bottom lip while his fingers begin to trail down your body.

He’s soft as he circles your clit, and it leaves you wanting more, rutting your hips against him. It’s all too easy for Wonwoo to slip his fingers into your dripping pussy, and the squelching sound your core makes has your skin heating with embarrassment. But Wonwoo clearly doesn’t care about the noise as he begins to pump his hand, curling his digits to reach your gspot.

You grab his shoulders, legs already feeling shaky. You’re moaning too much now for him to kiss you properly, so his lips find your throat.

Whimpers and wet sounds fill the church, and as Wonwoo’s pace increases, you realize what his intention is. The sniper has always had skilled fingers, and it’s not uncommon for him to make you squirt- you can already feel your pussy beginning to drench his hand, but you’re not sure if it’s your cum or someone elses.

All you know is that it feels amazing. The pressure in your stomach is like hot ecstasy, and each rough pump of his fingers has your body tingling with pleasure. 

“Fuck, Wonwoo-” you moan, words caught as he palms your clit. Your eyes clench shut, you feel more liquid squirting out of you, can feel the impact of it hitting the floor, sending droplets that skirt by your toes-

“That’s going to be a bitch to clean up, Shua,” Jeonghan notes with a snicker.

You can feel your lover grinning by your throat- maybe this was his intention all along. 

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, shocked at the amount of squirt that’s left your body. “Too much-”

The sniper doesn’t hesitate when he hears this, he simply pulls his fingers from your core, presenting them to your lips as he pushes his pants down with his free hand.

You suck greedily on his fingers, tasting the mix of cum you find there. 

Wonwoo pulls his hand away too quickly, reaching down to grab your thighs and lift you off the ground. He pushes you against the confession both, pressing his cock into your hole while his lips attack yours again.

God, it feels good not to be standing. Your legs were starting to feel like jelly, and now, you can focus on the cock filling you up. You just get to relax against the soft wooden booth and take what Wonwoo is giving you.

The kiss is a hungry one, his tongue battling yours as he finds a quick pace. You’ve been fucked by three other men already, but it still feels so good to have Wonwoo inside of you like this. 

You tangle your fingers in his soft curls, moaning desperately while he rails you against the confession booth. Your mind goes pleasantly blank. With Wonwoo, no words have to be said, you can feel what he’s expressing, can feel how much he cares for you. 

The angle he’s holding you in has his cock hitting deep, teasing that special spot that has your toes curling. Each smack of his hips against your own has your clit being teased, a consistent pressure that’s quickly tightening the knot in your abdomen again.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper.

“You’re close?” he asks, sounding a little shocked as he breaks the kiss to look at you.

“Sensitive,” you remind him, pouting out your lower lip as you cup his cheek. “You feel so good.”

He releases a groan, kissing you again. 

Wonwoo’s not Cheol. He doesn’t make you beg for an orgasm. He’ll simply give it to you- kiss you stupid while his body does the work of getting you to cloud nine. 

You allow the orgasm to build naturally. There’s no demanding that it comes, no countdowns or ‘cum with me’s- Wonwoo cumming with you is a given. He has selfcontrol, and he holds out till the moment your pussy clamps down on his cock.

The two of you groan into each other’s mouths, Wonwoo’s fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you through it. You cling to him desperately while he eats up all your sounds of pleasure. 

For a moment, you’re not some free-use whore being tossed around a group of men in a church- it’s just you and Wonwoo.

You get lost in him, your orgasm feeling endless- but all good things must end, and soon, Wonwoo’s motions stop. His cock stays buried inside of you, his body pressing your own against the confessional while you both breathe heavily between kisses.

Finally, Wonwoo pulls away. He stares at you for a moment, more unspoken communication making your heart swell. He sets you onto your feet gently, helping you stand with one hand while he does up his pants.

Then he takes off his dog tag, leaning in close as he puts it around your neck. “I hate this,” he whispers, and you can’t be sure that he’s only talking about the act of owning you with the chain on your throat.

Wonwoo moves away, and you open your mouth to say more- but you’re cut off by someone clearing their throat. Your gaze shifts to Seungcheol, who stands from the pew he was sitting at. “One more to go, princess.”

Joshua grins, stepping forward. “How should we do this?”

It takes a moment for you to realize he’s not asking you. Seungcheol lets up a deep breath. “Honestly, knowing my insatiable princess, I’d say she could take both of us. You can fuck her ass, priest, but her pussy belongs to us.”

You hate the tingle of excitement that runs through you, your eyes dipping to the front of Seungcheol’s pants, where he’s already growing hard again. 

“You’re the boss,” Joshua muses, watching the unit leader step toward you.

Seungcheol takes you into his arms, one hand cupping your cheek as he looks down at you. “You’ve been so good for us,” he says softly. “Gonna keep being good, right?”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can bring him in for a kiss.

The touch of your lips is short-lived. Seungcheol gets down onto the ground, lying flat while he helps you on top of him. “I’ll fuck this pretty pussy,” he announces, undoing his belt for the second time tonight, “and you can lube up Joshua with a taste of your mouth.”

“Okay, sir,” you whimper, looking down between your bodies to watch him pull out his cock. The moment it’s free, he lines it up with your core, his warm hands finding your hips to help you sink onto him.

You both let out moans of pleasure, your eyes closing as you begin to bob up and down slowly. 

The sound of another belt being undone draws your gaze to Joshua, who’s come to stand next to you and Cheol. “Open wide,” he tells you, grabbing the base of his cock and pumping.

You look up at the priest, doing as you’re told. His eyes stay fixed on yours as he slowly pushes his cock past your lips. He doesn’t go in all the way, only giving you half, and waiting expectantly for you to begin sucking him off.

As you hollow your cheeks, digging your nails into Seungcheol’s chest for leverage, the unit leader begins rutting up into you. You can’t help but moan around Joshua’s cock, and you watch as he lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing the back of your head so he can hold you still. He begins to fuck your face, and once again, you’re just a fuck toy caught between two alpha males.

You know what comes next, know that Joshua will be in your ass soon, so you do your best to lube him up with your spit. It’s clear that your wet mouth is driving the priest into a frenzy, his cock hitting the back of your throat now with each thrust.

You’re doing your best not to gag, your eyes welling with tears that you blink away as you gaze up at the priest. 

“She’s so pretty when she cries,” Joshua muses, wiping away one of the tears with his thumb.

“Our little princess is always pretty,” Seungcheol insists with a grunt, forcing you to take his cock fully, keeping you pinned on his hips. “Are you going to fuck her ass or not?”

Joshua pulls himself from your mouth, clearly amused by the lines of drool that still connect him to you. “Be good for us,” Joshua says sweetly.

Seungcheol tugs you to his chest, his hands moving to your ass where he spreads your cheeks for the man who sinks to his knees behind you. 

You feel Joshua’s tip rub against your hole, and you do your best to breathe normally, relaxing your body so you can take him as he slowly pushes inside.

There’s nothing in the world like being full- with cum, with cock, with everything-

“This is too hot,” Jeonghan’s voice makes you look up. “Wanna suck me off too, kitten? If you don’t, I might bust all over myself from this view alone.”

At this point, your mind is fuzzy, and you can’t help but nod, sitting up and opening your mouth for Jeonghan.

“There’s our good kitten,” he grins, immediately whipping out his dick and slotting it past your lips. “Fuck, so fucking good for us. I know you love it when you get three cocks at once. Our little kitten with her kink for being completely full-”

At this point, there are no thoughts swirling around in your head, only the feeling of three men filling you up to their heart’s desire. Seungcheol and Joshua find a push-pull motion that has tension building in your abdomen much too easily. Jeonghan, meanwhile, is fucking you slowly, taking his time and releasing groans as you suck him off.

The tip of Jeonghan’s cock hits the back of your throat, and your body convulses, making both Joshua and Seungcheol moan loudly. Their fingers dig into your skin, you can feel hot breath against your chest and shoulders.

“You know,” Seungcheol groans, “A priest really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Not so willingly, at least,” Jeonghan adds.

“Well,” Joshua sighs loudly, “I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you all that I’m not actually a priest.”

“What?” Jeonghan and Seungcheol stop thrusting, and you sputter as Jeonghan’s cock slips from your lips, taking haggard breaths.

“It’s not like any of you asked for a resume when I showed up here,” Joshua jokes.

“That’s because you were dressed as a fucking priest?!” Seungcheol’s voice is raising now, his fingers digging into your ass while Joshua continues to fuck you nonchalantly.

“I’ve been quite convincing, wouldn’t you say?” You’d bet your life that the ‘priest’ is wearing a shit-eating grin, but at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care.

“Sir,” you whimper, clawing at his chest.

Seungcheol swallows thickly. “We’re gonna make her cum, but you and I are going to have a talk about this later, priest.”

Jeonghan presents his cock to you again, and you take it into your mouth. You suck on him hard, wanting to get him as close to the edge as you are. In response, Jeonghan begins to fuck your face again, hitting the back of your throat so your body clenches around Joshua and Seungcheol.

“Fuck,” the unit leader moans, landing a slap across your ass that has your mind spinning. “Need you to cum for us,” he tells you. “Need you to be a good little cock whore and take what we give you.”

You moan loudly around Jeonghan, getting lost in the feeling of being so completely full that you can’t think straight.

Seungcheol lets go of your ass, bringing his thumb to your clit-

The first rough drag of his digit across the sensitive bud triggers your orgasm, and you practically scream around Jeonghan, entire body fizzling with electric energy.

“Fuck-” Jeonghan groans, giving one last thrust before he cums down your throat, holding your head so your nose touches his pelvis, not allowing you to go anywhere as you sputter and take what he gives you.

Seungcheol and Joshua let out moans of their own, and you can feel the heat of them cumming too, filling up both of your holes to a point that’s almost dizzying. 

Jeonghan pulls out of your mouth and you immediately slump down against Seungcheol’s chest, body shaking as you struggle to breathe. Joshua also retreats. You can feel hot tears rolling down your cheeks, too many emotions swirling around in your post orgasmic haze for you to even keep track of.

“Sit up for me, princess, let’s get a look at you,” Seungcheol insists, stroking your back.

With a deep breath, you slowly sit up, rubbing at your eyes.

Joshua comes to stand in front of you, an expression akin to concern on his face. “You’re forgiven for your sins,” he tells you.

Wonwoo scoffs loudly.

The priest reaches up, taking off his cross necklace. As he begins to hold it over your head, intent on adding his claim to the four that already hang around your throat, Wonwoo grabs his hand roughly. Then your sniper tears the cross from Joshua’s grasp, throwing it across the church. “Don’t even fucking try it,” Wonwoo growls. “She doesn’t belong to you. This was a one-time thing.”

“And you’re the one making decisions now?” Seungcheol glares, sitting up and pressing his palms flat to the floor behind himself to balance, his abs moving under pretty skin. 

“Kitten should choose,” Jeonghan agrees. “Like she did at the start.”

“Look at her,” Wonwoo insists, voice breaking. “We all fucked her brains out. She’s not making any big decisions right now. In fact-” Wonwoo reaches down and picks your dress off the ground, helping you put it on, “We’re taking her home. Gyu.”

Your largest lover encircles his arms around you, lifting you up and off Cheol without a question asked. You tuck in close to his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying the bridal style of the carry. 

“Clearly this wasn’t punishment enough for your subordinate who likes to talk back,” Joshua muses, speaking to Cheol while he watches you, Wonwoo and Mingyu head toward the church doors.

Wonwoo’s fist clenches at his side, Mingyu looks back, but no one says anything else. You pass out in Mingyu’s arms while they carry you back to the Z1 dorm. Mingyu lays you on a bed softly, immediately cuddling up to your side. He begins to stroke your hair and you open your eyes when you feel a warm cloth cleaning your inner thighs.

“Hey, beautiful,” Wonwoo looks up at you. “How are you feeling.”

“Okay,” you murmur.

Wonwoo frowns, exchanging a look with Mingyu. 

“Did i say something wrong?” you ask.

“No, it’s just…” Wonwoo swallows thickly, “usually you say ‘good’ or ‘great’ or ‘amazing.’”

“Oh. sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to us.” Wonwoo finishes cleaning up the mess between your legs, and he tosses the cloth on the floor, getting onto the bed with you. You curl up against his chest, and Mingyu presses to your back, his soft fingers caressing you. “We shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Wonwoo insists. “But we shouldn’t talk about this right now. You need rest.”

The mention of sleeping makes you yawn, and you close your eyes, enjoying the warmth that your protectors provide. “Goodnight.”

Mingyu presses a kiss to your shoulder as you begin to drift off. “Goodnight, baby.”

Epilogue

It’s been a week since the orgy in the church, and you’ve spent every night since then cuddled between Wonwoo and Mingyu, thinking heavily about yourself and the relationship you have with the men in your life.

You wake up on the seventh day with your mind set. Wonwoo’s already awake, sitting silently and staring at the wall while acting as your pillow. He looks down at you when you stir, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Hi, handsome,” you retort, loving the way his new petname tastes on your lips. “Can I… can I be vulnerable with you for a moment?”

“Always,” he assures you, nudging Mingyu to wake him up.

The man behind you groans, but presses kisses to your shoulder nonetheless. “What’s happening?”

“Baby has something to tell us,” Wonwoo says softly.

“Okay, baby.” Mingyu speckles more kisses along your skin, tucking closer to your back.

“I think… I think I need to end things with Jeonghan and Seungcheol.” You’re shocked at the resolve in your tone, but at the same time, the declaration feels right. 

“What?” Mingyu holds you tighter, kisses ceasing.

“When I entered this dynamic, I never thought I’d pick favourites,” you explain, “but I think it’s clear that I have. It’s clear to me now that you two care for me in a different way than they do- and… I’d rather focus on this, what we three have, then betray myself with them any longer.”

You’re proud of yourself for putting all your chaotic thoughts into such simple words, and you wait patiently for a response.

“I think that’s a good decision,” Wonwoo says finally, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I just feel like- I mean, I love Jeonghan, I love Seungcheol, but I’m not in love with them. Not in the way that I’m in love with you guys… and I think… I think you’re both in love with me too.”

Mingyu lets out a soft groan. “It’s been hard not to say it.”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t,” you whisper, reaching to thread your fingers with his hand resting on your hip.

“It wasn’t you,” Mingyu reassures, “it was the way the five of us worked. It didn’t feel like there was room to say it.”

“Well you can say it now.”

“I love you,” Mingyu groans, squeezing your hand. “Fuck, I do. I do love you. A stupid amount.”

“I love you too,” you grin, light airy energy surging through your body. You find yourself looking up at Wonwoo. “Do you love me?”

“Is that even a question?” He lets out a small laugh, cupping your cheek. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”

“I wish we’d all said it earlier,” you admit. “I came into this living each day like it might be my last, but I neglected to do the one thing that’s most important- I didn’t tell either of you how I felt, and I promise I’m going to make up for it every day I have with the two of you.”

You’ll talk to Jeonghan and Seungcheol later. You can deal with whatever reactions they have, as long as Mingyu and Wonwoo are by your side.

Seungcheol has always called you insatiable. He’s made you feel like a needy whore who couldn’t get enough- and yet, that final penance was more than enough. It made you realize that you are satiated- by love, not lust. 

You’ve paid your dues, your penance is complete, and now, even during an apocalypse, you can finally try to secure a life for yourself that you always wished for, with your two protectors. You can finally be happy, and fulfilled. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I really don't know how this happened, but uh.... I want them. If you liked this one, I've done this pairing before here

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🔮 preview. It’s practically perfect to have Mingyu worshiping between your thighs while Wonwoo is the anchor at your back, whispering soft nothings in your ear and massaging your breasts. This is what love is, and you’re so fucking happy you’ve found it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, pussy eating, oral, deep throating, fingering, breast play/worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of old bdsm style ‘rules’/begging, soft boy lovers, dirty talk, praise, size kink, hand job, stroking wonwoo while mingyu rails you, multiple sex positions (sideways, doggy, etc…),   I petnames. (hers) beautiful, baby, etc… (mingyu’s) puppy. (wonwoo’s) handsome.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.4k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

You love the feeling of sun on your face. The warmth reminds you of your two lovers, who hang back, sitting on a barricade a hundred feet away. There are no supply runs today, so Mingyu and Wonwoo have taken to shadowing you at a respectful distance, giving you and Hansol your space to putter around the garden and tend to the growing food.

“You seem happier lately,” Hansol muses as he digs holes to plant beet seeds Wonwoo had found for you on his last trip to the city.

“I am,” you admit, gazing over at the two men who are chatting and laughing together. “It’s nice to be spending more time in the garden again.”

“And I see you’ve picked up your cafeteria tasks with Seokmin again,” Hansol points out. “I know he missed you for a few months.”

“Yeah, I had a lot going on at the time.”

You’ve never outwardly spoken with Hansol about your prior arrangement with Z1, but you can tell he’s noticed Seungcheol and Jeonghan not pulling you away anymore. Your closest survivor friends are too respectful to ask for details, but it’s been a few weeks since you’d ‘broken up’ with the elder Z1’s, and you think you’re finally ready to talk about it a little.

“My priorities weren’t straight,” you continue.

“But it looks like they are now,” Hansol says, straightening to look at the men on the barricade. “You all look a lot happier.”

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[pastorpresent]

tw: abuse, eating disorders, mentions of alcoholism

One of Wade's earliest memories was being four years old, sat at the half rotten kitchen table, sobbing hysterically over the food on his plate - all while his parents screamed at each other in the background.

"He needs to fucking learn, we're too poor for his fussy ass to waste food!"

His dad, getting in his mother's face, hands curled into fists as a warning, or a threat.

"I know, but he's not gonna fucking eat otherwise, and you heard that doctor. He's underweight as it is! I've got his chicken nuggets in the freezer-"

A smack, and the reverberating sound didn't even make Wade flinch anymore. He was kicking his tiny feet, trying to lift the fork to his mouth to end all of this, but it's like his body just... couldn't do it.

He was trying to be a good boy. He really was. He didn't want mommy getting hurt because he couldn't be good. It wasn't fair.

"Eat, Wade. Now," and that was definitely a threat, the words growled in his face, and Wade let out a sob as he quickly shoved the forkful past his quivering lips.

"You don't move from this fucking seat until this plate is empty. We clear?"

The grip on his arm hurt, but he knew if he tried to squirm away it would only tighten.

"Y-yes sir," he hiccuped, and his dad smirked, triumphant. As if he'd won, and his tiny self couldn't explain it but it made him feel like crying harder.

It took two hours, and tiny bites, but he finished the meal.

He didn't feel right the rest of the night. It was gone and done, but he felt utterly sick, like he needed the food and the taste out of him, and it didn't matter how many times he scrubbed his teeth with his spongebob toothbrush, up on his tippy-toes to reach the sink, the taste wouldn't fade.

He'd ended up spewing the meal back up a few hours later. He hated throwing up because of how shaky and weak it made him feel, and yet that night? He'd been practically giddy to have the food out of him.

It was the first time, but it wasn't the last. It may of been his earliest memory, but he had hundreds more exactly like it as a kid. Sat at that stupid table. The plate in front of him. Tears in his eyes.

Half the time, he'd just take the beating. At least he could settle after that, and not agonise for hours over the foods presence in his stomach until he was able to get it the fuck out.

He expected to grow out of it, as he hit his teens. He did start actually trying new foods, to usually poor results. His grandmother had scoffed, labeled him 'fussy', her eyes as disapproving as her sons. Wade had accepted the label, wore it with a twinge of embarrassment- because while he was good at not taking himself seriously, it still sucked ass not to be able to order off the adult menu in most restaurants and to turn down completely normal adult snacks because he couldn't stand certain textures or tastes.

He never grew out of it, in the end, but the list of foods he deemed as 'safe' did expand just a little.

It wasn't until he was older and they learnt about neurodivergence in health class that he ever heard a description accurate to his relationship with food. Avoidant restrictive food intake disorder. ARFID.

Wade had scribbled it down in his textbook, and ended up being late home from school that day because he was busy looking it up in the school library.

He could've cried with relief, honestly. A word. A diagnosis, even if he'd never get an official one. He wasn't some unique, one person freak show. It was a disorder. A disorder a lot of people suffered with.

He still struggled, but it was nice to have that layer of understanding.

His mutation made it worse. Changed the texture of his mouth, his tongue, and so things that had once been safe no longer were. He was practically starting from scratch, but he managed.

He got his ramen. His chicken nuggets. His boxed mac and cheese.

It was all fine and dandy and hey - on the plus side, the nutrionless crap he was eating couldn't kill him now! Unless heart disease could beat out regenerative healing, but when he considered how often Logan must've destroyed his liver by now - he figured he'd be fine.

Well, it was all fine until Logan moved in.

Him and Al never really 'cooked". They'd get take out, where Wade could get exactly as he wanted, or if not they didn't really eat together. Al would have whatever she was having, and Wade would knock himself up something of his own, and other than an occasional lighthearted comment about Wade having the dietary choices of a toddler, not much else was said. Al's comments didn't bother him anyway, because he knew they weren't insults. Didn't sting like his father's words.

He did their grocery shop too, so it all worked out fine.

When Logan moved in, he wanted to be helpful. He was struggling to find a job that would take him without a social security number or any form of identification that didn't technically belong to a man everyone knew to be dead. It meant he couldn't contribute to the rent and bills, and Wade knew he felt guilty about that even if he'd told him a million times over that it didn't matter.

He loved having Logan around. He'd pulled him from his own universe to be here. Giving him a roof over his head and sharing his bed while Al took the pullout really wasn't a big deal, and absolutely not something Logan had to repay him for.

He started taking on the domestic duties around the house as a way of payment anyway. The apartment had never been cleaner, that's for sure, and he took Mary Puppins on all of her walks.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Until Wade had came home from work one day and found that Logan had took it upon himself to go stock up on groceries, and cook dinner.

Wade hated how nervous seeing someone standing over a fucking stove made him. He knew a psychiatrist would probably give some dumb spiel about PTSD and unresolved trauma, but Wade just felt like a fucking idiot, freezing up in his own kitchen at the sight of Logan cooking and humming along to their old, shitty radio.

"Hey, how was work?" Logan glanced up from the steaks sizzling in the pan.

Wade needed to get it the fuck together. He couldn't let Logan realise how pathetic he truly was.

"Fine, dull," he replied with a shrug, hanging up his jacket and trying to quell the rising panic, but the smell alone was a lot and he could already feel his body tensing up, his fight or flight kicking in, and he wanted to scream and rip his own skin off because it was so fucking dumb.

"You alright, bub?" Logan asked, pulling Wade from his thoughts.

He nodded.

"Yeah I- need to shower," he excused, figuring it was a good enough reason to dip out and try to get a fucking grip.

"Alright," Logan said, eyebrow raised, "well dinners probably gonna be ready in twenty minutes or so."

Wade nodded, plastering on his best grin, "can't wait, peanut," he said, before quickly rushing out the room.

//

He felt like he was walking into the lions den, entering the kitchen. The shower and ten minute self pep talk did very little to fill him with confidence. Logan and Al were already sat at the table. Mary Puppins waited eagerly at their feet.

"There, the fuckers here. Can we eat now?" Al demanded, and Logan rolled his eyes but he was wearing one of those almost fond smiles, "go ahead."

Wade took his usual seat next to Logan, between him and Al, and picked up his knife and fork, staring down at the plate. Steak, mashed potatoes and green beans.

A normal fucking meal for an adult, and yet Wade felt his stomach tying itself into intricate knots just looking at it.

Al and Logan were chatting about the movie they'd watched last night, but their voices were muffled and distant. He scooped up a tiny bit of the potatoes, shoving it in before he could change his mind, forcing his throat to work and swallow it quickly. He could still taste it, could feel the texture imprinted onto his tastebuds.

He could do this. He could. Just get through one measly meal, and it would be fine. He already knew how strange he came across, and it was an honest to God miracle that Logan had stuck around - what if this was the final straw? Watching Wade waste the perfectly good meal he'd stood and cooked for him in favour of something beige and cooked in the microwave?

If he was going to lose Logan, it would have to be for a hell of a better reason than that.

He kept going, so focused on getting the food down that he missed the worried glances Logan was throwing his way.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but his thoughts were interrupted by the clattering of silverware.

"That was delicious. Who knew your dumbass could actually cook a meal?" Al commented, and when Wade looked up both of their plates were clear. He looked back to his own. At the single missing green bean, and pitiful dint in the mashed potatoes. The hardly distinguishable sliver of missing steak.

"I'm two hundred years old, picking up some hobbies here and there becomes a necessity to maintaining sanity," Logan shrugged, smiling, but it didn't feel like it was fully a joke and it only made Wade feel that much more guilty.

"Well, it's Wade's turn for dishes so I'm off to bingo. Don't wait up," Al left the table, barely side stepping Mary Puppins, and Wade could feel Logan's eyes on him now.

He didn't dare meet his gaze, forcing a bite of steak past his lips.

"What's up with you? You not into steak?"

There was no bite behind the words, and yet they made his breathing pick up all the same.

"I- I am, it's- good, honest. Thank you," he said, taking another bite, ignoring his body's protests, suppressing the shiver.

"Wade. Look at me," his head snapped to Logan. He was already in trouble. If he started being bad and not listening, it would hurt more, and he couldn't-

"Hey," Logan's voice was oddly soft when he spoke, but firm enough to get his attention. He reached over, pushed Wade's hands down gently, uncurled his fingers from their white knuckled grip around the cutlery.

Wade watched him do it, utterly confused.

"I'll eat it. I will, I'm trying," he hated the childlike panic that had taken over his brain. He felt like that four year old again, staring at his plate with a wobbling lip and damp eyes.

But he felt helpless to stop it.

"Do you not like it?" Logan asked.

Wade was biting his lip hard enough that he tasted blood, "it's... thank you. For making it for me."

"That's not an answer bub," Logan hummed, "do you like it or no?"

Wade chewed the torn skin of his bottom lip. Shook his head once. Tried to get his body to calm the fuck down.

Logan reached over. Wade flinched, cringing in on himself, eyes squeezed shut, bracing for an impact that never came. Instead he just used his thumb to release the lip Wade was using as a chew toy from between his teeth.

"Ok, that's alright. No worries, yeah? You want me to make you some of that ramen stuff you like instead?"

"I- I have food, you cooked me it, I shouldn't..." he trailed off when his throat felt tight.

"And you don't like it, which is completely fine. I'll clean up, you go sit on the couch and I'll bring you some ramen in soon."

"Logan-"

"Wasn't a request, bub. Go pick us a movie to watch," Logan stood, piling up all three plates, and Wade could've cried with relief honestly.

He got up and went to the couch, picking out Shaun of the Dead and sticking it in the pink Hello Kitty DVD player he'd scored years ago at the thrift store. He sat down, but his leg was bouncing like crazy and he couldn't get his eyes to focus.

Logan said it was fine, he reminded himself. He wasn't angry. But what if he was lying? What if he was just trying to lure him into a false sense of security? Make that first hit hurt even harder?

His dad had done that, in the past. Wade never understood why. Boredom, maybe? The same cycle of screaming at him, beating him bloody, rinse and repeat probably got old he supposed.

By the time Logan came over, bowl of noodles in hand, Wade was struggling through a fully fledged panic attack.

"I'm sorry, sorry, I'll- been bad, I'm sorry," he couldn't stop shaking, his breath punched out of him as he curled in on himself, burying his head in his knees which he pulled up tightly to his chest.

'You're a little pussy, no fucking son of mine. Stop hiding, boy!'

"Wade, Wade no. I'm not angry, you didn't do anything bad," he felt the couch dip next to him, and an arm wrapped around his back, pulling him against the solid warmth and familiar scent of Logan.

"I'm sorry," he didn't feel capable of saying anything else, and Logan shushed him softly, reaching out to grasp his hand, "it's fine, really. Look at me, sweetheart."

Wade reluctantly lifted his head, looking over at the older man who's face was filled with a genuine concern.

He hated that. Hated that he was so much of a fucking freak, making Logan worry about him because he couldn't get a damn grip on his own thoughts. He knew comforting people wasn't something that Logan necessarily enjoyed, and it was ridiculous and unfair for him to have to do it over something so small and dumb.

"I-"

"Shhh, just breathe. In and out. Slowly," Logan guided, emphasising his own, his thumb rubbing gentle circles around Wade's shoulder.

Wade copied. Eventually, he felt his body relaxing somewhat. He didn't realise he was leaning so heavily against him, eyes slipping closed, until one of Logan's arms wrapped around his waist.

His cheeks burned, but Logan wasn't pushing him off, and there was something soothing about his body heat and listening to the beat of his heart, even if it was muffled by the metal binded to his ribcage.

He wasn't sure how long he lay snuggled into Logan's side, but eventually he felt able to speak a bit more, his throat not so tight and brain not so crowded.

"My dad used to... get mad, if I didn't eat what I was given. Used to beat me for it," he said quietly.

Logan was silent for a long moment, and Wade almost pulled back just to see if he could read his expression. The hand on his waist tightened, fingers slipping beneath his shirt to run patterns over his hip bones.

"Dad's fucking suck. Hell, I killed mine. I wish I could kill yours, for doing that to you."

A sick, deeply twisted part of him wanted Logan to do it. Wanted to watch as his dad squirmed on the floor, covered in blood and bruises, all while he begged for mercy from an angry man who was so much bigger and stronger than him. Poetic justice really, but...

"He's already dead, sadly. Heart attack a few years ago."

"I'd say sorry for your loss, but I'm not," Logan commented, and Wade snorted against him, "yeah, me neither."

The silence returned. Wade hated silence, usually. Would say any dumb shit to fill it. Except it felt kind of... nice, right now. Comfortable. He didn't mind stewing in it for a few minutes.

"You know I'd never..." Logan trailed off, struggling with his words for a moment, which was odd. Wade had never heard him do that.

"I'd never hurt you like that. I know that sounds dumb, given the fact we fought each other a million times in the void, but I wouldn't..." he trailed off again, grunting in frustration.

Wade finally lifted up enough to look at him.

"I know. It's different when we fight, anyway. I'm immortal. You're immortal. I get my own hits in, and I fight dirty. It's a level playing field. With my dad... he started when I was four. I didn't have much of a chance," he shrugged, ignoring the flash of anger on Logan's face at the number, "I kind of like our fights. They keep me on my game, and I know I can't actually hurt you permanently. It's more like..."

"Play fighting?" Logan finished, his tone teasing but Wade knew he was serious, knew it was probably the only accurate word for what they did, "yeah," he grinned, and Logan chuckled.

Silence returned, their gazes locked. Logan's eyes went impossibly soft, "you alright now, bub?"

Wade nodded, leaning into the touch of his hip, bringing his own hand to rest on Logan's chest, "yeah, thank you."

"You want your ramen?" Logan asked softly, hurriedly adding, "if not that's okay, you don't have to. Just don't want you going hungry."

Wade nodded, and separated reluctantly from Logan to grab the bowl. He immediately felt a brief shock of that familiar panic and dread, but forced himself to remember that Logan wasn't mad, hadn't left him, he was right there.

He started eating, and Logan's arm returned to his waist, tugging him back in against his chest so he was situated between the older mans legs.

He looked up with a small smile, but Logan was pointedly watching the TV, even if the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Eating the noodles was easy, and Wade didn't realise how hungry he'd been until it was gone.

"Can I ask you something? You don't gotta answer if you don't want to," Logan asked, taking the empty bowl from his hands and putting it on the coffee table.

"Sure," Wade shrugged, getting comfortable against him.

"It's... safe foods and stuff, right? You can only eat certain things? It's got a name, an annogram... starts with an A, I think?"

Wade sat up fully, brows furrowing as he looked over at Logan.

"ARFID. How do you know about that?" He asked, head tilting to the side. It's not something he had even knew where to start explaining to somebody like Logan. He worried he'd have the same outdated 'kids are just brats these days' kind of outlook on it that his dad did, but he scolded himself for that. Ever since they'd met, Logan had proved his stance on most topics was oddly forward thinking. Wade remembered one particularly impassioned rant about gay rights one night when some old trump clip had played on the news.

He just didn't expect Logan to know what it was at all, nevermind identify the behaviours as such.

"I never taught at the mansion, but I was around a lot. Charles said the kids liked me, for some reason, and I sort of became... not a counsellor, because I'm too fucked up for that, but just someone who the kids knew they could come to. Few of 'em struggled at meal times. Would come see me and I'd make chicken nuggets or whatever they felt able to eat. Sit with them while they did," Logan had that sort of glossy distant look in his eyes, the same one he always seemed to adopt whenever he'd reflect on his past.

Wade felt ready to melt into the damn couch cushions, his love for Logan increasing tenfold. There was a niggling sense of envy, too, just below the surface. He was glad the kids Logan cared for weren't abused for something out of their hands. That they were understood, even if only during their stay at the mansion.

But it didn't stop the jealousy from burning low and ugly inside of him. He never got that, never had an ounce of understanding from anyone. He was punished instead. Not starved, because he was always offered food technically, but in a way...

"I'm glad they had someone like you to support them. I'm sure that meant a lot," Wade said, no jokes, his face serious.

Logan looked away. That look grew more haunted, and he shook his head, "very little consolation considering most of them died because of me in the end."

"Lo, you didn't-"

"I know," Logan interrupted, his face completely unconvinced, "I know you disagree, that's fine. We don't... let's not talk about it again," he said, and Wade didn't want to drop it, wanted to argue until he lost his voice that what those people did wasn't Logan's fault - but it's an argument they'd had a million times over, and he never made any headway.

It always ended with Logan storming out to a bar to get pissed, likely in some dumb effort to prove how 'terrible' he was, and then they wouldn't speak for a few days until they both missed the other's company enough to put the debate and their pride aside.

So as much as Wade wanted to argue his point, he let it be done for now.

"Do need you to do me a favour though, bub."

"Hm?" Wade hummed.

"A list - all your safe foods. Bit pointless me shopping and cooking if I don't know what you can eat," Logan said, and Wade's throat went completely dry.

He'd wrote a list once. Only once. When he was nine, when he'd convinced himself his parents didn't hate him - they just didn't understand, and he could help. He wrote a list in his wobbly handwriting, the foods he liked - the foods he wouldn't need to expel from his body. He'd drew pictures next to each one. He'd gave it to his dad with a smile.

The smile had been slapped off his face. The list had been hung on the fridge, the only piece of his artwork to ever feature there, as a warning to his mother about what not to buy on their grocery trip.

And now here Logan was. Asking for one, so he could make sure he could stock those things, cook them for him.

He all but threw himself against Logan, who merely grunted at the impact, wrapping him easily in a hug while Wade practically squeezed the life out of him.

"Thank you," he mumbled against his neck.

"Don't mention it."

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ SHARING IS CARING. featuring s. kong + t. fushiguro.

↻ shiu gives toji an offer too good to refuse.

tags : voyeurism, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, cowgirl, mentions of threesomes, slut shaming // wc. 0.7k

author’s note : there isn’t enough shiu content out there ‘m afraid, and it HURTS MEE considering i love him from infinity 2 infinity. toji and shiu are the BADDEST 2man out there and i for one would not mind gettin backshots from both ;p as always, notes n reblogs are much appreciated !! (and thank you for 300 followers!)

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

for TOJI FUSHIGURO, finding work is hard. he can’t exactly just stroll into the next place that’s hiring and hand in his cv like every other person, because unlike every other person, toji’s cv would be filled to the brim with the names of all the people he’s killed.

toji fushiguro is an assassin, and it would be a lie to say that sometimes he doesn’t hate his fucking job.

“you got anything for me?” he sits on his beaten up couch, chopsticks in hand and horse races on the television as he slurps up the last of his cup ramen. “c’mon, boss. there’s gotta be somethin’. everybody wants somebody dead these days.”

“i’m afraid not.” his boss, or more, his contractor, SHIU sighs on the other end of the line. “i told you i’d call if i had anything. work’s tight for me too.”

the line goes silent, and although shiu hasn’t quite hung up yet, toji throws back his head and groans. how hard is it for an assassin to find somebody to kill these days? the whole gig isn’t particularly helpful, either. he gets paid in lump amounts with no idea when his next job is coming through, and at times like this, toji does in fact consider paying a visit to the job centre.

just as he’s about to thank shiu for jack shit and hang up, a muffled whine on the other line drags him out of his thoughts.

“you got your girl there with you, boss?”

“i’m at home. ‘course she’s here with me.”

toji smiles. “hi there, lil’lady. whatcha up to?”

on the other end of the line, you bury your head into shiu’s neck, face flushed as you halt all movement on his lap. “nothin’.”

“don’t sound like nothin’ to me, doll. he treatin’ you good?” toji hears shiu laugh quietly through the phone.

“she doesn’t answer to you, idiot. and for the record, i’m givin’ her everything she needs and more, isn’t that right, baby?” he grinds his hips upwards and you gasp at the feeling of his tip nudging your sweet spot. “tell him how good ‘m treatin’ you.”

by this point, toji’s muted the races and put down his chopsticks, switching his phone to loudspeaker and balancing it on his shoulder so he can hear every sweet sound you’re making. his cock is out of his sweats in no time, precum staining his shirt as his tip presses up onto his abdomen.

“ ‘s g-good,” you hiccup, tears in your eyes as shiu rests a hand on your ass and starts to move you back and forth on his length. “so good, ‘n so big.”

“mm, bet that’s right, angel,” toji drawls, hand occupied with fisting his cock in time with the faint shlicking sounds echoing through his speaker. “how ‘bout next time, you get two cocks instead of one?”

“don’t get too ahead of yourself, zenin. she’s my bitch.” shiu’s tone is sour as he bucks his hips upwards, causing you to whine out.

“yeah, but I bet that slut would take it if we gave it to her.” toji grins, hand quickening when he hears you groan on the other end of the line. “sounds like she’d like that. ‘n i already told you, it’s fushiguro.”

“same difference.” it sounds like shiu’s struggling to maintain an even tone when he feels you clench down on him hard, teeth gritting as your nails dig into the fabric of his suit. “but i agree, it seems like she likes your idea. next time, instead of paying you a lump sum, i’ll let you fuck her instead.”

toji smiles, head tilting backwards as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. “nuh-uh, i still want my money.” his thumb flicks over the slit on his tip, swiping up the precum and spreading it along his pulsing length. “but i’ll take you up on your offer. cant want to try out her sweet cunt.”

on the other end of the line, you squeal, walls clamping down on shiu as you reach your climax. a loud slap resounds through toji’s phone and he grunts, ropes of white painting his knuckles as he finishes in his palm.

“she came too early. only started fuckin’ her since the time you called.”

“sounds like you haven’t been treating your bitch too well, boss, otherwise she wouldn't have been so desperate.” toji smiles, looking at the mess on his hands and shirt. “call me when you have another job. can’t wait to get my sweet reward.”

and with that, he hangs up.

PREVIOUS : DRESS UP DOLL ft. satoru gojo NEXT : FWB ft. aki hayakawa

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[pure-smut]

babysitting.

featuring: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

contains: you're megumi's babysitter and toji pays for "extra services", might be slightly ooc bc we know toji is always broke as hell, age gap, dubcon if you squint, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, doggy, unprotected s*x, creampie, breeding k*nk at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

You’ve been babysitting twice a week for Toji Fushiguro’s toddler for around two months now and he’s barely said more than five words to you.

He pays you on time, he comes back home when he says he will, and his toddler, Megumi, is a sweet little boy who’s easy to take care of. So it doesn’t bother you that Toji doesn’t really talk to you – you’re a broke college student and babysitting a couple of evenings a night is just a way to keep your head above water. As long as he pays, you keep to yourself and that suits you.

Until he offers something more.

Megumi’s been tucked into bed and you’re in the living room, watching TV until Toji comes home. He’s usually back around midnight so you kill time until then, checking in on Megumi every so often. When the front door opens and Toji comes in, you barely glance up from your phone.

Toji usually leaves your money on the kitchen counter for you to collect on your way out before he goes straight to bed. This time though, when you stretch and stand from the couch, he’s lingering in the doorway. You startle, not expecting him.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

Toji leans with his forearm against the doorway, looking at you. You feel like you’re under a microscope suddenly and you forget what to do with your hands, wringing them nervously in front of you.

“Um. Megumi was fine tonight, a bit fussy with dinner but nothing major,” you say, wondering if he’s finally looking for an update on minding his son. “He’s asleep upstairs, I just checked on him about thirty minutes ago.”

Toji tilts his chin up, studying you through a half-lidded gaze. You’re struggling to keep eye contact with him, your eyes glancing over his sculped torso, barely concealed by his black compression shirt. You cough awkwardly.

“Anyway,” you say. “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

You make to move past him but his large form is blocking the doorway.

“Um…”

“Your cash is in the kitchen,” Toji says and you blink up at him, wondering why he’s telling you something you already know. “And…”

Toji pulls another wad of cash from his sweatpants pocket.

“I have extra for you, if you want it.”

Your eyes widen at the money in his hands. You’re barely scraping by this month and some extra money would really help. But…

“Extra for what?” you ask, brow furrowed.

Toji smirks at you, his scarred lips lifting at the corner.

“Let’s see…” he says, flicking through the notes. “$50 to let me lick your pussy…”

You inhale sharply, mouth dropping open, but Toji continues on as if nothing’s wrong.

“$100 to suck my dick, $150 to let me fuck you aaaand…” Toji holds up the entire wad of cash with a grin. “$2,000 if you do all of it.”

Your lungs constrict. You swallow thickly as your eyes dart between Toji’s easy smile and the cash he’s dangling in front of you.

You open your mouth, your first instinct to tell him to shove his money and storm out. But the more you think about it…

Toji watches you close your mouth, eyes on the money, and knows he has you. He’s not in any rush – he can be patient. He’s been waiting all this time for a payload like this so he could entice you with it. He watches as you dither in front of him, hands fidgeting.

You think about all the nights you’ve lived off ramen and plain bread, the amount of textbooks you had to pirate because you couldn’t afford them, your savings as they slowly dwindle every month.

And then you think about the broad man in front of you, Megumi’s dad, who isn’t even bad looking. You’ve had worse one-night stands and you didn’t even get paid for them. So what’s the problem, really?

You nibble at your bottom lip.

“Okay,” you eventually say, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do all of it.”

Toji grins a little wider.

“Smart choice, kid.”

He pushes past you, putting the wad of cash down onto the coffee table, and beckons you over.

“Strip and get on the couch,” he says firmly. “And spread your legs for me.”

Fuck, why was that so hot? You already feel a coil of heat in your lower stomach even as your hands tremble, tugging off your top and leggings. You’re in your underwear, hesitating, when Toji frowns at you.

“I said strip. That means everything.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat and do what he says. You fight the urge to cover yourself as your bra and panties drop to the floor. Instead, you sit back on the couch like he said and spread your legs.

Toji drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your hips and pulling your further forward. You’re already glistening with arousal, making him smirk. He dips his head and parts your folds with his tongue, licking you deep.

“Ah…” you gasp softly as you feel his tongue for the first time, hot and soft against your lips.

It feels strange to have someone eating you out when you haven’t even kissed, have barely even spoken before now, but as Toji’s tongue probes your hole, you quickly lose yourself to him.

His thick tongue slides inside you, his mouth flush to your pussy as he licks you deep. You automatically grind against him, your hand in his hair, a whimper leaving your lips.

Toji always wondered what you taste like, had fisted his cock to the thought of this before every time you were in his house in your tight leggings. He often fantasised about this, about buying your dignity and making you spread your legs for him. As he moves up to your clit, feeling it swollen with arousal, his cock throbs.

You’re this turned on already. Your pussy was practically waiting for him, already slick and primed for a good fucking. Toji hoped you’d be, hoped he’d found a perfect little live-in fucktoy. And he has.

Toji strokes the flat of his tongue over your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to make a lustful moan roll off your lips. You’ve had people go down on you before but it never felt like this.

Toji keeps sucking and licking your sensitive nub as he presses a thick finger inside you. You clench around him and it makes his cock even harder, anticipating the feel of you around him later. He curves his finger, finding your sensitive spot and stroking it until your back curves.

“F-Fuck… Toji, I… I’m…”

You try to stammer out a sentence but you’re too close, your brows knitted in the middle, your thighs wrapped around his head. Toji continues to stroke you on the inside as he feels your clit throb against his tongue.

It’s too much.

You cry out, gripping his hair hard as you cum on Toji’s tongue, your thighs shaking against his head.

Toji laps up your juices, licking you through your orgasm until you’re jerking and shuddering under him. You taste too damn good and you’re so fucking wet for him. He didn’t realise eating your sweet little pussy would get him this hard but his cock is aching, begging to be touched.

Toji pulls back with a groan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Before you realise what’s happening, he climbs on top of you, kneeling with his knees on either side of you as he presses his cock to your mouth.

Your head is against the back of the sofa, slumped in the seat and half-dazed from your orgasm as you feel his fat mushroom tip on your lips. It’s slick with precum and you open your eyes long enough to see the size of it. You don’t have time to worry whether you can take it – Toji doesn’t give you time – before he’s forcing his cock past your lips.

You open your mouth to try and accommodate him but he’s so thick. You swirl your tongue over his sensitive head and Toji lets out a long groan in relief. You hot mouth on his cock makes him leak even more precum which you dutifully lick up.

“That’s it. Good girl,” Toji praises you as he pulls back slightly only to push even deeper.

You have nowhere to turn, your head pressed against the back of the couch as Toji starts to fuck your mouth. You try to keep your jaw slack, your tongue licking along the fat vein running across the underside of his shaft as Toji slowly picks up speed.

You gag as he hits the back of your throat but Toji doesn’t let up, using your thick saliva as lube to face fuck you harder. Your eyes water, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as the slopping sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth fill the room.

Toji’s hard as a rock, the heavenly feel of your mouth enough to make him want to cum. He’s tempted, loving the idea of making you swallow his load. He bets you’d struggle to swallow it all, his cum dribbling out of your mouth as he scoops it up with his fingers and forces it back in your mouth, forces you to suck his fingers clean.

“Ah, fuck…” Toji grabs the back of the couch as leverage, rocking his hips as he continues to use your mouth as a fleshlight.

You know it’s rough and degrading but it’s only making you hornier. You rub your thighs together, feeling them slick with your arousal, desperate for some more friction on your clit. Toji notices and grins down at you.

“You gettin’ turned on, baby?” he taunts. “You gettin’ wet from sucking me off?”

Toji’s hit the jackpot with you. It’s been a while since he felt this good with a woman, since he found such a perfect little slut to fulfil his needs and look after his son.

Toji pulls himself from your mouth, thick strings of saliva between your lips and his cock. You gasp for breath, your eyes wet and cheeks flushed. Fuck, you look so sexy like this. Toji needs to have you now.

He grabs you by the wrist, pulling you up roughly before pushing you over the arm of the couch, bending you over. You’re too fucked out to protest, moving limply where he puts you as Toji kicks your legs open.

You can only whimper as you feel his thick tip prod at your entrance. You clench, nervous, knowing how big he is, as Toji slowly sinks his girth inside you.

You’re tight but you’re ready, squeezing around Toji as he pushes deep. The combination of his saliva-slicked cock and your dripping pussy means there’s no pain, only a delicious stretch as your walls wrap around Toji. He keeps pushing, pushing, until he’s bottomed out, his pelvis flush to your ass.

Toji takes a second to savour the moment. You feel indescribable. Your silky walls are so hot, so pillowy soft, even as you clench around him it feels like you’re milking his cock.

“Perfect,” he growls. “My perfect little fucktoy.”

Toji grabs your hips, sinking his fingers in hard as he withdraws. After fucking your pretty little mouth, he’s already close and he wants to prolong it as much as possible. But a feral need overtakes him.

He starts to slam into you, fucking you wildly as you cry out beneath him.

“Shh,” he hushes you even as he doesn’t break pace. “Don’t want to wake up little Megumi, do we?”

His words silence you down to a whimper as you press your face into the couch cushion to smother your moans. Toji bullies his cock into you, his eyes glued on your cunt as your lips wrap around him, sucking him in. He knows you haven’t cum yet, not from him fucking you, so he pulls your hips back slightly, leaving enough of a gap between you and the sofa so he can reach under you and play with your clit.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop from crying out again. Your orgasm builds from a combination of Toji deftly rubbing your sensitive nub and the way his cock is rubbing against your sensitive walls, each stroke sending your nerves alight.

Toji’s not overly concerned with your pleasure, not really, but he knows your perfect pussy will feel even better if you cum on his cock. Plus, he knows if he draws a second orgasm from you, it’ll be much harder for you to protest the next time. So he grits his teeth, delaying his own orgasm until he can feel yours.

It doesn’t take long.

You clench your hands into fists, moaning into the cushion as you clamp down around him. Toji was right – you feel even better. Your walls massage his cock, fluttering around him in a way that’s making him see spots.

Finally, he lets go.

“Fuck fuck fuuuuck.”

Toji buries himself to the hilt, exploding inside you. You feel his cum hit your walls, painting your pussy white as he fills to you the brim with load after load. His cock twitches with each wave of pleasure, his grip hard enough to leave bruises on your hips.

Your collapse onto the couch, still bent over as Toji slowly withdraws. A flood of his cum follows, spilling down your thighs, but your limbs are too heavy to move. It doesn’t matter though because Toji scoops you up, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom.

You feel a wet cloth between your legs, cleaning you up as you lie on his bed. You want to speak but you’re too dazed, weariness sweeping over your body.

Toji climbs into bed next to you, pulling you to him so you’re lying on his chest. For the first time that night, he tips his head down to kiss you.

He’s surprisingly tender, kissing you softly as his tongue gently laps into your mouth. You kiss him back as he pulls your leg over his, nestling it between his thighs.

“You did so well tonight,” he tells you. “Are you on birth control, baby?”

You stir at his question, your brain churning slowly.

“Um… no…” The implications begin to dawn on you. “S-Shit. I need to get Plan B.”

Toji hushes you with another kiss, his hand idly running up and down your thigh.

“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” he says with a smile. “Let’s give Megumi a little brother or sister, hm?”

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