#i heard they are all around the globe

[itspileofgoodthings]

I say that you don’t need to know the Taylor lore to appreciate her music and I MEAN it and yet I’m not sure Taylor saying “now I’m down bad crying at the gym” hits quite as hard if you didn’t spend all of 2014 watching her coming out of gyms in NYC wearing her perfect little model ‘fits with her short 1989 bob perfectly coiffed only to learn later all the heartbreak happening behind the scenes then TOO.

[farsailing]

mmmm thinking of attending meetings after the move if my work schedule allows. i’m def not interested in returning to Christianity theistically, but i do kind of miss the community of meetings. the society of friends for my new city does unprogrammed worship (the kind my family attended) and is inclusive so i may reach out to them about attending sometimes

[heavenbarnes]

anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn

pt 2 to this

“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”

obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.

no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.

(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)

he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.

your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:

“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”

you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.

when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.

he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.

balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).

you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.

he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.

on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.

(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)

simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.

he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.

your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.

his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.

long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.

as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.

simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.

one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.

what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.

always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.

(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)

he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.

you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.

a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.

his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.

you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.

but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.

all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.

with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.

you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.

“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”

your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.

“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”

wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.

“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”

and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.

when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.

(he probably had)

simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.

so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.

you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.

eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.

scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.

you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.

just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.

knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.

one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.

“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[a-gay-poptart]

Say their name.

CW AND TW: CHILD DEATH

Say.

Their.

Name.

Nex Benedict was a indigenous trans nonbinary teenager. Their head was beaten against the floor in a bathroom stall. Less than 24 hours later, they died, most likely from undiagnosed head trauma. Conservatives say they want to, "protect the children", where was the protection for Nex? That's the thing. There wasn't any. Nex died. And many more trans, queer, and nonbinary minors will if we don't step up and do something. What happened to Nex has and will happen to queer folk around the globe. Say their name.

Edit: I didn't expect this to get much attention, but thank you everyone. What alot of people, "forget" to mention was that Nex was two spirited, which means they were indigenous. The fact that I wouldn't have heard about this if I didn't have Tumblr is absolutely revolting. News needs to be covering this. But what are Republicans doing? Sucking their thumbs and crying about how, "trans people shouldn't be able to piss". What are Democrats doing? Twiddling their thumbs and groveling to an old geezer that somehow falls up the stairs and supports I$r3@l. It's disgusting and America needs to do better.

Edit 2: Any and all hate/saying that Nex Benedict wasn't murdered (they were) will immediately get deleted, just because you don't like trans people doesn't mean you can be an whiny little bitch. A child was murdered. This has nothing to do with politics, a child was murdered.

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"

[teapartyprincess4two]

On Stream- M. Sturniolo

pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments

summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.

—

Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.

The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.

Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.

Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.

You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.

So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.

Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.

This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.

Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”

After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.

“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.

A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.

“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.

“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.

Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.

“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.

“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”

You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.

“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.

“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”

The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”

A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.

“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”

“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.

“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”

“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.

Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”

Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”

“Not Fortnite.”

“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?

“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”

Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”

“Don’t push it,” you laugh.

Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.

“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”

Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”

“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.

“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.

“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”

“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.

When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.

“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.

“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.

“And it took you that long?”

“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”

“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.

“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”

He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.

Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.

All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚

- L.A.M.B🪽💝

—

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note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[sunsburns]

Hey girl I have a request. I think Clark is into body worship, both receiving and giving but I feel he’d be so cute being in the receiving end. He’s Superman, he gets praise all the time and takes it in stride, but when it comes to you? Oh he gets shy, his cheeks are pink, he stutters a bit. When you tell him how big he is, there’s always a “…you think so?” “I’m not that big…”. His eyes are glazed when you start kissing and groping him everywhere appreciatively. Clark becomes bashful and flustered because all the praise coming from YOU just hits different. Can you please add onto this 😭😭😭

oh, you are absolutely cooking here. clark being shy and flustered when he’s on the receiving end of body worship? that’s a full-course meal. (18+) ᢉ𐭩

it starts with something small. maybe an offhand compliment while he's getting dressed—your eyes lingering just a second too long, watching how his muscles shift under his skin, the sheer width of him, the way his broad shoulders slope into a tapered waist, strong arms straining slightly as he buttons up his shirt.

“you’re so big.”

three words, simple, but they wreck him.

his hands falter, button slipping from his fingers, and his head turns towards you, brows pinched in disbelief, a soft, breathy laugh escaping him like he’s not sure he heard you right.

“…you think so?”

he’s genuinely unsure. as if he hasn’t had people across the globe marvel at him, as if he isn’t literally superhuman in strength, in stature, in presence. but this—you looking at him like that, eyes dark and full of appreciation, tracing every inch of him with slow, lingering touches—this is different.

“clark, baby,” you hum, stepping in closer, letting your hands drag up his chest, feeling the solid weight of him under your palms. you look up at him, “you’re huge.”

his throat bobs, adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow. his skin burns under your touch, warmth radiating from him like a furnace.

“i’m not that big…” he tries, voice going a little weak when your fingers curl around his biceps, giving them an appreciative squeeze.

you just smile, letting your hands wander, mapping the planes of his body like you have all the time in the world. “mm, you are. so big. so strong. so perfect.”

and that’s when it happens—his ears go pink first, then his cheeks, and then that soft, bashful smile creeps onto his face, the kind that makes his dimples show. he can’t handle it. his hands come up like he’s going to stop you, but they just hover, unsure—because does he really want you to stop?

“you—” his voice catches, and he lets out another laugh, this time breathier, shaking his head like he can’t believe you. like he can’t believe he gets you.

but you’re not done. no, now that you see how he’s unravelling, you want more. you press your lips to his collarbone, slow and reverent, and he melts. his body twitches under your mouth, his breath coming out uneven as your kisses trail lower, over his chest, down the ridges of his abs, your hands following close behind, smoothing over every dip, every curve of muscle.

and clark—sweet, sweet clark—is squirming.

“baby,” he breathes, voice cracking just a little as he watches you kneel before him, eyes glazed and heavy-lidded. “you don’t have to—”

“but i want to.” you cut him off, lips ghosting over the center of his stomach, feeling how his muscles flex beneath your mouth. you move lower, pressing your cheek against his crotch. you basically nuzzle against his boner, tracing the shape of it with your lips, mouthing it, kissing it over his clothes.

“you’re so beautiful, clark. so handsome. so perfect.”

his whole face is red now, a helpless, lopsided smile tugging at his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, completely overwhelmed. his body can handle a lot, but this?

“okay, but make it quick.”

[bananafieldnotes]

beg for me

★ abstract: it’s ‘70s chicago and stack’s a single man on the prowl for his match. you’re about to give him more than he bargained for

content disclosure: smut, technical age gap, black!reader, fem!reader x stack, dirty talk, public sex, fingering (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, canon deviation, ongoing series

author’s note: hello! this is my first ‘sinners’ fic of what i hope to be many! i’m not new to writing fanfic but this is a fresh blog, and my first time writing fic about a film. i wrote this blurb with the intention of turning it into a series so feedback is so appreciated!! i’m very open to asks and requests as well :) i had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it

🚧 edit: t*mblr fucked me over with the 'read more' bar and it cut an entire paragraph of context :/ i've added it back since this fic's original posting 5.13

You’d heard all the stories from your creole cousins about vampires, how they walk amongst the living without detection. That there were even vampires that could walk in sunlight unharmed by its rays. None of it scared you. In fact, it served as the opposite; it excited you. The danger of being caught under a vampire’s thumb brought you an indescribable rush of adrenaline and excitement and not even a pinch of fear. You wanted the gift they spoke of.

He went by the name Stack, and you’d watched him up and down the bar you worked in every night he made an appearance. At first, you thought he was a bachelor taking advantage of his good looks and suave demeanor to bed as many patrons as possible. But the closer you got to him, the more he gave himself away. The flash of color in his eyes, how he was stronger than your best security guard despite his trimmer frame, the way he never touched the silver martini glasses and insisted on a regular glass. And the dead giveaway, of course, was his lack of reflection in the mirror you passed dragging him off to the bathroom.

His hands cupped your ass, kneading the cheeks apart as your teeth pulled at his earlobe. The bathroom door was only so thick but neither of you cared, cloaked in the haze of sweat, cocaine and Marvin Gaye as you shed whatever layer of clothing you could get your hands on.

As his lips made their way back to yours, it suddenly hit you that his kisses were vintage, that he’d probably travelled the globe kissing hundreds of people in various ways at his heart’s desire. The thought spurred you on, a fresh wave of arousal glossing your panties. “Stack?” The smoky film over his eyes was back as he pulled away to look at you, fangs retreating before you could see them. “Hurry up and fuck me already.”

The tug of a smirk let you know that you were in for a rough ride. “You want it now?”

Stack’s hand snaked beneath your dress to stroke your clit, fingers gliding without protest through your sodden folds. Your head nodded eagerly at his question even though you knew he was reveling in the pleasure of your desperation. His fingers, deft and thicker than yours, pushed experimentally past your entrance, eyes locked on your face as you exhaled a moan of relief. Two digits working in tandem to curl against your sensitive walls, marveling at how wet you were. Your essence dripping from his fingers. It was the most turned on you’d ever been.

It felt too good. His hot breath fanned across your face as he pumped in and out of your gummy walls, licking at your neck like he was playing with his food. All of it was so erotic that it drowned out the music just beyond the door and dulled the way the concrete sink pressed against your tailbone. “You want it but can you take it?”

The low rumble of his voice made your pussy clench around his fingers, eyes screwing shut to bask in how lewd it was. His thumb curved up to massage your clit as his fingers worked you open, and he laughed at the way your hips bucked wildly. “I-I can take it, please, Stack!”

He was so quick to undo his belt that you didn’t even hear it, cock wrapped in his hands as your eyes drifted open sleepily. His dick was just as pretty as him; thick, long, and just the slightest bit curved. You wanted to bend over and lick the single pearl of precum leaking out of his tip, but he was already using it to tease your entrance. A shockwave rippled down your spine as he bucked once, twice, teasing you mercilessly until you grabbed hold of his cock to finally slip him inside of you.

The stretch felt delicious despite his size being so… overwhelming. Your body welcomed him like it was made for him, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out. Your hands clutched to the front of his shirt, breathlessly awaiting his next move.

Stack watched you in amazement, your greed astonishing to him. It’s been years since a human could match his passion, his unquenchable thirst. And here you are in front of him, licking your lips and staring at him like you were ready for him to fuck you dizzy.

His hips undulated slowly, studying your expression meticulously for any signs of discomfort. As if you could read his thoughts, you wrapped your arms around his torso and flicked your hips to match his motion. You could take it.

“You feel that?” Stack drew his hips all the way back until just the tip remained inside of you, sliding forward in one swift move again. With your stomach pressed against his, he could feel his cock reaching unexplored depths with every thrust. “Feel it.”

He brought your hand to hover right near your belly button, pushing down gently enough for you to feel the friction from the outside in. Stack was staking his claim to your body, ensuring that you’d chase the high of this moment for the rest of your life. It made your eyes roll back, pleasure consuming your every thought, nerve and muscle. Your soul was only concerned with tying itself to his, ardently clawing at the nape of his neck to bring his face closer to yours.

His fangs appeared instantaneously, the rush of his hormones making it harder for him to hide his true nature. You were putting weakness on his knees as you taunted him with his sustenance, your blood pumping succulently beneath your skin’s surface. “Do it,” you moaned out, sensing his hesitation. “Bite me.”

You knew. You knew and you didn’t care; or rather, you cared because you knew. It got you going, it was possibly the only reason you seduced him. He knew nothing about you… how could he have assumed he had you all figured out?

Asking him deterred his desire altogether, his interest in your motives deepening as he watched you. He couldn’t acquiesce without knowing more. Even though he was more than happy to reap the benefits, Stack never asked for any of this. And if you, as gorgeous and alluring and enthralling as you were, wanted this willingly…

He needed to know more.

[alisonsfics]

what about me?

pairing: bucky barnes x ex-gf!ex-avenger!reader

summary: as an ex-avenger and the ex-girlfriend of james bucky barnes, you’re shocked when you see the new avengers announcement on tv. so, you decide to pay avengers towers a visit to reminisce, until you run into bucky. then you both realize you’ve been holding some grudges.

word count: 2k

warnings: ⚠️thunderbolts* spoilers⚠️ angst between you and bucky

You were having a peaceful start to your day. Or as peaceful as it could be. The past couple years had really messed you up. You’d basically lost everything. The Avengers. Your friends. Your boyfriend. Your home.

Nothing had felt the same since then.

You tried to start over. You weren’t exactly built for the real world. You had telekinetic abilities. Your father was a successful scientist, but after you were born, he became captivated by the idea of superheroes. Then, he started to experiment on you, accidentally giving you abilities.

When you became an Avenger, you learned to harness your powers. You also blossomed into a great fighter, training with both Steve and Natasha.

Your skill set was very specific. And it didn’t exactly suit a corporate life, or any kind of regular life.

A couple of months ago, you got a call from Sam, whom you hadn’t spoken to since Tony’s funeral. He said it was about Ross going out of control. You were happy to help, and for the first time in years, you felt like you were doing the right thing with your life.

But nothing had happened since then. You started hanging out with Sam more often, craving any tie back to your previous life.

That’s where you were right now, out for lunch with Sam.

“So, is our new President showing any possibility of turning into a raging Hulk of a new color?” You joked, earning a chuckle from Sam. He quickly shook his head.

“Nope. All clear, but if it happens again, trust me, you’ll be the first one I call.” He told you. The thought of another president turning into a Hulk shouldn’t have comforted you, but it did. Because it meant having a purpose again.

“How have you been? You’ve seemed a little distracted since the whole Ross thing.” Sam asked, switching into counselor mode.

You laughed to yourself, thinking about the best response that would make Sam worry the least. “I don’t know, Sam. I feel like I’ve forgotten what being okay feels like.” You said, honestly.

“Just a professional opinion, maybe it’s cause I’m the only person you talk to. You can’t isolate yourself.” He mentioned. You switched your gaze to the ground. Of course you knew he was right. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought about it.

But all your friends, your family, were scattered around the globe or dead. You were alone.

Before you could respond, you both heard commotion around you the patio of the restaurant. You could hear the sound of phones dinging all the way down the street. Hushed whispers grew louder.

You felt heads turn towards you and Sam.

“Sam, what’s happening?” You asked, quietly. He glanced down at his phone. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled under his breath, before flipping around the screen for you.

You immediately recognized Val, and then you noticed Bucky. He was bruised and bleeding and standing behind her. The headline scrolled across the bottom: “Welcome the New Avengers after NY Attack.”

People started to rush towards you both. As two ex-Avengers, everyone wanted to know why you both weren’t on this new Avengers group.

“C’mon,” Sam said, quickly standing up and rushing towards you. He tapped a button on his watch and his flight pack appeared on his back. He grabbed you, and you wrapped your arms around him.

Your feet lifted off the ground as Sam flew you both to a nearby rooftop. You stepped away from him as soon as your feet hit the concrete.

“You alright?” He asked, watching you begin to pace. The words “New Avengers” repeated over and over in your head. And the image of Bucky bruised.

Sam repeated your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I don’t understand. There was an attack? Why didn’t he call me? Or you? He could’ve been hurt. He’s like family to me, and he’s just moving on? Why do we all act like the Avengers didn’t happen? I mean, everyone is moving on, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know who I am if I’m not an Avenger. And I just— I need to go home, Sam. I really need to think.” You rambled.

Sam nodded, understanding where you were coming from. “Come on, I’ll bring you home.” He said.

You spent the next two weeks sitting in your apartment, basically wasting away. You’d always struggled to cope with change, but you felt yourself being tugged back to the good old days.

Then, one day it was different. You woke up and felt yourself being pulled out the front door. You didn’t know where you were going until you got there.

You stood on the cold street, looking up at the tall building: Avenger’s Tower. It had been your home for years, and now it was a building you hardly recognized.

You walked up towards the front gate. The security guard immediately recognized you and brought you inside. He gave you a security pass, so you could freely roam the building.

You took the elevator up to the top floors where most of the rooms were. It was a path you’d taken so many times before.

You stepped out of the elevator and were met by a million memories. Memories you hadn’t thought of in years came rushing back to you.

A loud metal door slammed shut, bringing you back to reality. You jumped and turned towards the noise.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky Barnes.

“Hi,” you stuttered. His eyes met yours. You saw his eyes soften and the weight lift off his shoulders. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, breathlessly.

“I don’t know. I think I just wanted to see you.” You admitted.

He walked towards you, closing the distance. “It’s nice to see you, really. I’ve been thinking about you recently.” He said, sincerely.

“It’s definitely not because you moved back into the place we used to live. Don’t think that would make you think of me at all.” You quipped, sarcastically. A soft smile spread across his face.

“It’s been too long.” He said, his voice only coming out at a whisper. He felt every memory of you come rushing back to him at once. He remembered movie nights with the rest of the team. And the first time he kissed you, after a mission. And sneaking out of training to be with you.

“Yeah, it’s been a couple years. Y’know, since the world almost ended and you dumped me a few months later.” You said, your tone coming out harsh.

You had really missed Bucky. But you were also mad at him because it was his fault that you’d had to miss him. He’d gone radio silent for years, and you lost your best friend.

Bucky wore a pained expression. “I’m sorry about the way I handled everything. I was in a really bad place with Steve leaving and everything.” He apologized.

“C’mon, Bucky. Of course I understood that, but what you didn’t understand was that my world was also turned upside down. So many of our friends died or left, but I thought I’d always be able to rely on you. I loved you so much, and you left me like it was nothing.” You argued.

Each word felt like a cut to Bucky’s heart. He’d never wanted to hurt you.

“It wasn’t nothing. Do you really think that wasn’t the hardest thing I ever had to do?” He shot back.

“Then why did you do it? Nobody forced you into that, Bucky. And if you regretted it, why haven’t you reached out to me since then?” You asked. Bucky was growing visibly frustrated. He ran his fingers through his hair. You noticed the way the light bounced off his metal arm.

“I can’t do this. I can’t have this conversation right now.” He huffed, turning away from you and starting to walk in the opposite direction.

Before your brain could even process it, you were yelling “Yeah, go run back to your new friends and leave me behind with all the problems of your past” at him.

He stood still before slowly turning back towards you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“You’re talking about being sorry that you abandoned me before and now you’re doing it again.” You accused.

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “Well, you should know a thing or two about abandoning people. I heard about you and Sam taking on the Red Hulk.” He snapped.

“What does that have to do with anything? I helped out a friend.” You said, defending yourself.

“Neither of you thought to call me to help, and you know I would have been there in a minute. And you didn’t exactly show up to help me when the Sentry almost destroyed all of New York.” He said, finally letting it out even though he promised himself he wouldn’t. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help that he’d been so affected by you helping out Sam and not him.

“I didn’t show up because I didn’t know it was happening. And you know how I found out? I found out while also learning that apparently there was a New Avengers team.” You argued.

“That wasn’t my idea, I swear. That was all Valentina. I was just as surprised as you were. But why do you care so much if I’m on a new team?” He asked you, and you realized how close you both were standing.

He was close enough that you could smell hints of cedar wood from his cologne. You focused your gaze on the floor to avoid looking him in the eyes. “Cause it means you’re moving on and leaving the Avengers in the past. And what about me? What if you decide to leave me in the past too?” You asked, softly.

His metal fingertips grazed your hip. His touch was soft and unsure, like he was waiting for you to pull away. When you stayed still, he used his other hand to pull your chin up, so you were looking at him.

“I actually asked the team if you could join because it wasn’t the same without you. I promise, I am not leaving you in the past.” He whispered.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You leaned into his touch, and it was like he never left. His arm snaked around your waist, while your fingers found their natural place weaving through his hair.

The kiss was soft but also hungry. Bucky had missed having you in his arms, and he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon. A warmth started in your chest and spread throughout your body.

Bucky's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him until there wasn’t any space between the two of you.

His lips explored yours, taking the time to refamiliarize himself with everything about you: the taste of your strawberry lip gloss, the way you smiled as he kissed you, and the way that your fingers tugged on his hair.

Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, smirking cockily when you lightly gasped. “I’ve missed you, sweets.” He mumbled against your lips.

You both jumped when you heard someone clear their throat down the hall.

“I see you’ve got a friend, Barnes.” The man scoffed, smirking at Bucky.

“Walker, this is my old friend—” Bucky started to introduce you to the man.

“I know exactly who that is and all about your friendship.” Walker responded, smirking and using air quotes around the word “friendship.”

“Now, who do we have here?” Another voice came from behind you. You and Bucky spun around, his arm wrapping around your waist until your back was pressed up against his chest.

A blonde woman with light blue eyeliner under her eyes stared back at you. She smirked at you and Bucky. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat, except we wouldn’t. So, we’ll see you guys later.” Bucky said, steering you towards the stairs.

“You’ll have to introduce me at some point.” You whispered in Bucky's ear.

“That’s a later problem, darling. We have some catching up to do.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

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[eugenedebs1920]

Politicians lie to get your vote. They bend the truth. They may even knowingly make a false claim. The Trump administration is the complete distortion of objective reality.

I am perhaps a bit too informed on current events, particularly the fall of American democracy. So far in this second round of Trump, I’m not sure if I’ve heard a single word of truth from him, those around him, or his propaganda networks.

It had been nonstop lies, corruption and criminality. Seriously! Not a single ounce of truth.

First thing he did was pardon the Jan 6th insurrectionist, claiming they had been treated very badly. Many of them beat the crap out of capital police, they stormed the capital looking to sting up Mike Pence and Nancy Pelosi. They stole documents, smeared feces all over walls, and defiled our nation’s capital. Many deserved the sentence they received.

Second thing was to blame all of Americas problems on people with brown skin, gay people, trans people, anyone who wasn’t a straight white man. Even when his stupid ass transportation Secretary had the first air crash in over a decade, that was because of minorities somehow. Funny. Pete Buttigieg is gay and not a single plane crashed during his whole time as Transportation Secretary.

Trump brings in the world’s richest man to make government efficient. Yet the first thing he does is dismantle USAID, a program that was less than 1% of the U.S. budget and gave food and medicine to the poorest people across the globe. Think of it! The richest man on the planet, taking food from the most impoverished people on earth. It’s unbelievably messed up.

The guy who spent almost $300 million getting trump elected then starts rummaging through every aspect of the federal government where, ironically, he starts dismantling and picking apart agencies that were investigating his companies. CFPB and SEC were looking into his electronic currency for X, dissolved or defunded. The FDA was looking into the brain chips he was working on, defunded drastically. The FAA was bringing charges against spacex for the rocket explosions that posed numerous dangers, massive funding cuts. You hear very little about this on “legacy” media.

Trump betrays Ukraine, goes so far as to call Zelenskyy a dictator but praises Putin! He has Jerkin Dicks Vance make some ABSURD speech condoning AfT rhetoric and berating our allies, we vote against condemning Putin’s war crimes, along with countries like, North Korea, Belarus, Iran, and of course Russia. WTAF!? And maga is cool with this? We joined the damn axis of evil! The just shameful ambush of Zelenskyy in the White House, it’s one of those things you can’t unseee. Just disgraceful…

The immigration enforcement is fascist to the core! Whatever you think about a country of immigrants immigration policies, a country which committed genocide against the native inhabitants, that made its initial fortune on the backs of enslaved peoples, that nation should have learned 250 years later that all people deserve to be treated with dignity and minimum respect at least. The only lawyer who spoke the truth in court over the administrative error which sent a Maryland man to a supermax prison in El Salvador, got fired by the administration for telling the truth! Lawyers are bound by a code of ethics (believe it or not) and swear an oath to uphold the law.

The tariffs. My god the tariffs. In 100 days America went from the best economic recovery of all developed nations after covid, to the stock market tanking and the contraction of the economy as a whole. Lie after lie about this too. Not simply about inflation or Wall Street, but telling us not to believe our lying eyes and empty wallets with claims that prices are actually down. I CAN CLEARLY SEE THAT THEY AREN’T! How dumb do they think we are!?

Then there’s the full on assault to the first amendment. It’s funny because the right has been setting the precedent that liberals have been attacking the first amendment for years now. (a good way to predict what corruption Republicans are planning is to listen to what they are accusing others of. Promise! It works every time) Why!? Because your Facebook post on how ivermectin cures covid was disputed and taken down? Cry me a river. Trump has attempted to dictate what university professors can teach and the curriculum offered. He has sued law firms for defending causes in conflict with his. He has instituted Christian defense orders. Sued and threatened multiple press organizations. We haven’t even seen the response to an enormous protest in DC yet. June 14th. Be there…

There is not enough time in my life to go over every lie that Trump and his administration have perpetuated, but I can tell you this. The proposed budget, the funding cuts, the degradation of constitutional rights, the immigrant hate, the installation of HIGHLY UNQUALIFIED loyalists in intelligence and defense agencies, defying the courts, discrediting the press, politicizing religion, going after universities, eliminating the department of education, using the DOJ as a personal retribution law firm, military parades, accosting our allies, aligning with autocratic regimes, ignoring due process, creating an alternate reality void from facts or data, where nothing one sees is what they’re actually seeing, distorting what’s real, what’s true, what’s objective, and not backing down from that fabricated story.

I could go on.

These are the actions of a dictator. These are the doings of autocrats. What is playing out in front of our faces is the destruction of the American democratic representative constitutional republic, and the inception of a fascist state. It’s been 100 days people!! This much damage has already occurred.

I posed a question the other day that stuck in my mind. Is it that maga believes the lies that are told to them, does nearly half the country lack the critical thinking skills to see past the propaganda? Or is it that their disdain and animosity towards liberals is so great they simply don’t care? The hatred towards their fellow Americans for having opposing political views is so strong, that they’re willing to burn the whole thing down just to “own the libs”?

I can’t answer that with clarity, but either way….

It’s not good

[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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[tikitakatia]

Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"Getting Caught In The Rain"

WC: 3.8k

Summary: Alexia’s trying again, but it only makes you realize that it’s been a long time since you felt like you were seen and understood.

Pt. 1

Alexia didn’t say anything when she got home. Just dropped her bag by the door, kicked her shoes off with the practiced heaviness of someone trying not to wake anyone up. Even though it was 5:42 p.m. and the hallway light was still on. You were in the kitchen, pretending to read, pretending to care about the last email from work, pretending you weren’t holding your breath for her footsteps.

She walked past you without a word, without eye contact, and you thought, same old story. The sting had dulled by now, like pressing on a bruise out of habit.

Until you heard her voice.

“You, uh… you moved the plant.”

You blinked at the book in your lap. Took a slow breath.

“Yeah.”

“It looks good there,” she added. You could hear the words straining. Trying to sound casual. Normal. Like conversation was still a thing that lived in this house.

You didn’t answer.

“I was thinking,” she tried again, stepping further into the room.

“Maybe we could get a new one for the windowsill? Something low-maintenance. Like… a cactus or whatever.”

A cactus.

You turned the page. “We already have one.”

“Oh,” she said, and you didn’t even need to look to know she was scratching the back of her neck. “Right.”

Silence stretched long and thin.

You looked up. She wasn’t looking at you, not directly, just sort of gesturing toward the counter with a weirdly shy motion.

“I saw this at the airport. Thought you might want it.”

That made your eyes flick up.

She stepped forward, sheepish. Like she didn’t quite know how to be here anymore. She held out a small paper bag, wrinkled from travel.

“It’s dumb. I just saw it and… yeah.”

You took it carefully, like it was a bomb that was about to explode in your face. Inside it was a snow globe.

Small. A little cheap. Inside, a tiny, glitter-dusted coastline and a red kayak.

You stared at it for a beat, then another, your fingers going loose around the base. It was the same coastline you’d kayaked on together four summers ago, the time she got sunburned and made you stop every ten minutes to reapply SPF like a paranoid grandma. The one trip you still couldn’t think about without smiling, even if everything after it had unraveled.

“I remembered it made you laugh,” she said, voice so quiet you almost missed it. “That trip.”

You ran your thumb over the plastic base. “You remember that?”

Alexia shrugged. “I think about it more than you’d think.”

Your chest twisted. Not in pain. Not relief either. Something more complicated, and heavy and unsure.

You didn’t say thank you. But you didn’t hand it back. And that was maybe the biggest thing you’d done all week.

That night, you left it on the kitchen counter. You didn’t know why. Maybe so she’d see you hadn’t ignored it. Maybe so you’d believe it was real.

And in the morning, she was gone again. Off to training. But there was a small plate waiting on the counter. French toast, your favorite marmalade, a halved orange with the rind scored for easy peeling. A mug of coffee with a splash of milk, and whipped cream in the shape of a heart like she used to do.

And a note, scribbled in her hurried handwriting:

Hope today’s kind to you, take care.

— A.

You stared at it for a long time.

Then sat down and ate the toast.

She was in Bilbao this time. Another away game. Another cold bed, another text that never came. The trinket still sat on the shelf, the whipped cream heart a fading memory. You didn’t know what you were supposed to feel. Grateful? Guilty? Hopeful?

So instead, you opened Chattr.

[go4goald2]: Important question: would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses.

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s 11pm and this is how you start???

[go4goald2]: You say that like it’s not the most vital debate of our generation

[lostinthecrowd]: I’d take the duck. 1v1. Eye contact. No mercy.

[go4goald2]: Bold. Disrespectful to the mini horses. But bold.

You laughed into your blanket, curled up on your side like a kid at a sleepover.

[lostinthecrowd]: They have tiny hooves. I’m not getting stomped to death by a barbie pony.

[go4goald2]: Tiny hooves, BIG ambition. Don’t underestimate ponies. They´re evil.

[lostinthecrowd]: I feel like there's a story behind this. Also can’t believe this is how I’m spending my night.

[go4goald2]: I can. And it’s perfect. Admit it.

You grinned. Tucked your phone closer like it was a secret you wanted to protect.

The conversation spiraled into weird snack combos, irrational childhood fears (yours: mascots, theirs: escalators), and an intense five-minute tangent on the politics of sock-and-sandal combos.

Your cheeks actually hurt from smiling. And somewhere between their rant about pineapple pizza and your confession that you once tried to cook pasta in a kettle, something softened inside you.

You typed, slower now:

[lostinthecrowd]: My partner did something nice for me today. Out of nowhere.

[go4goald2]: Whoa, plot twist. What kind of nice?

[lostinthecrowd]: Just… a small gift. Not flashy. Thoughtful.

[go4goald2]: You’re being suspiciously vague and I’m incredibly nosy. Spill.

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s tied to a memory. Something small, but really specific to us. A moment we shared years ago.

[go4goald2]: Okay wow. That kind of gift hits like a freight train.

[lostinthecrowd]: Yeah, it really did. Caught me completely off guard, I didn’t know how to react.

[go4goald2]: Because it reminded you what it used to feel like to be known?

[lostinthecrowd]: Exactly that. Like someone woke a part of me I forgot was still there.

[go4goald2]: Do you think it was intentional? Like… a real attempt?

[lostinthecrowd]: I want to think so, but then it just made everything feel more fragile.

[go4goald2]: It’s weird how one small thing can make your whole chest ache.

[lostinthecrowd]: It made me remember how much I miss her, or who she used to be. Or maybe who I used to be when we were still okay.

[go4goald2]: You still deserve those moments even if they’re rare. Even if they confuse the hell out of you.

[go4goald2]: And for what it’s worth… I'm really glad you told me.

You let your phone rest against your chest, pulse kicking up a little. It felt too good. Too soft. Too dangerous.

Because it wasn’t just that they cared. It was that they cared in real-time. Gave you space to unravel and didn’t shy away when the threads got messy.

Your lips tilted into a smile. Tiny, involuntary, like a reflex from some version of you that hadn’t been used in months.

Alexia hadn’t texted once. Not even after the match. Not even a “night.”

But this stranger had stayed up with you.

Held space for you.

Made you feel like a person instead of a ghost someone used to love.

And that flutter came back. Not a rush, just a flicker. A warmth that settled behind your ribs like the beginning of something.

You didn’t push it away.

But god, the guilt that followed.

You weren’t doing anything wrong. You told yourself that. Over and over.

But the truth was, your smile hadn’t looked like this in months.

And your wife hadn’t been the one to cause it.

You didn’t expect anything when you unlocked the door. Maybe a quiet hallway. The faint hum of the fridge. Your own footsteps echoing against the tile. It had become a rhythm now. Come home, drop your bag, exist in silence. You had stopped hoping to be greeted. Stopped wondering what mood she’d be in.

So when the smell hit you: sharp, burnt and unmistakably wrong, it made you pause mid-step. There was a bitter tang in the air, like overcooked garlic and something else. Something sour. A hint of lemon buried under the scent of a meal gone wrong.

You followed it to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.

Alexia was standing in the middle of it, barefoot, her hoodie sleeves rolled up, her hair pulled back in that messy twist she only did when she was stressed. There was a pan smoking on the stove. A cutting board covered in unevenly chopped herbs. The sink was full of pots. And her face, her face looked wrecked in the most human way.

She glanced up when she saw you, startled. “Shit. You’re home early.”

You weren’t.

You said nothing.

“I was trying to…” she gestured vaguely to the chaos around her.

“Dinner.”

You stepped further in. Looked at the pan. Something once resembling chicken was stuck to the bottom, blackened and curling at the edges like it was trying to leave the scene of the crime.

“It’s your favorite,” she added quickly. “That lemon-herb thing. The one I used to make after we went to the farmer’s market on Saturdays. Remember?”

You did. Back when the kitchen smelled like warm citrus and clean herbs, when she’d dance barefoot to whatever song was playing, bump your hip and kiss your neck while the chicken rested. That version of the dish smelled like comfort. This one smelled like frustration and something sour unraveling.

“Something went wrong with the sauce,” she mumbled. “Or maybe I forgot how to… I don’t know. I was trying.”

And god, she looked so small at that moment. Not physically, Alexia was never small, but emotionally. She looked like a little kid caught drawing on the walls, holding out sticky fingers and hoping it still counted for effort. It knocked something loose in your chest.

Your heart didn’t break. It cracked. Just a little.

You stepped in. Reached past her and turned off the burner before the fire alarm could make things worse.

“We can save it,” you said quietly, even though you knew it wasn’t true.

She stayed where she was, arms hanging a little helplessly at her sides while you opened the fridge and scanned for solutions. There was a half-used tub of ricotta, a jar of pesto, and some leftover stock. You pulled them out without speaking. It was easier this way, fixing things with your hands and not your voice.

“I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to cook tonight,” she said softly, somewhere behind you. “You’ve been working so much, and I wanted to do something.”

You kept your back to her. “You could’ve just asked me to cook with you.”

“I didn’t want to make you do more work.”

“I don’t want to feel like a guest in my own kitchen.”

There was a long pause. Then the quiet sound of her setting down a spoon.

You poured a little cream into the pan, scraping at the burnt edges while the sauce hissed and fought you. You could feel her watching you closely and carefully. Like if she stared hard enough, she’d understand how to fix it all.

She moved to stand beside you. Too close. Her arm brushed yours lightly, and you flinched. Not because you were scared. Just because you weren’t used to being touched anymore. Not by her. Not kindly. Not like this.

She froze. You saw it from the corner of your eye. Her shoulders tensed. The guilt bloomed across her face. But you didn’t say anything. And she didn’t try again.

Instead, she grabbed plates and set the table while you boiled pasta and tried to coax the ruined sauce into something edible. It wasn’t good. But it was something.

By the time you sat down, the steam had mostly settled. She watched you take a bite, searching your face for any kind of reaction. You chewed. Swallowed. Didn’t make a face.

“It’s fine,” you said.

And she smiled, almost like that was a win.

Not a real smile. But something tired and tentative. Something that said thank you for not hating me tonight.

The two of you sat in that dim kitchen, eating a salvaged dinner that tasted like memory and ash. And for a moment you could almost remember what it was like to share a life that didn’t feel so quiet.

Even if you didn’t trust it just yet.

You didn’t go to bed after dinner.

Alexia did though. She didn’t say it directly, but you saw the way her shoulders slumped after the dishes were done, the way her fingers lingered awkwardly near your elbow like she might touch you and thought better of it. She murmured something like “I’m gonna lie down”, then disappeared down the hall with slow footsteps and a closed door that didn’t quite latch.

You couldn’t follow her. You weren’t ready to share a space that intimate. Not yet. Maybe not ever again.

So instead, you took a half-full bottle of wine from the fridge, grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch, and slipped outside. The balcony used to be your favorite spot together. Just two chairs, some tangled fairy lights strung along the railing, the soft hum of the city below. You used to sit out there for hours, her legs tangled with yours, music playing low from your phone while she pointed out constellations she made up on the spot. There was always laughter. Always warmth. That soft, lived-in kind of love.

Now it was just cold metal and silence. One chair is empty. The lights were still up but never turned on. Like the memory of joy had been boxed up and left to fade in the wind.

You curled into the blanket, set the wine between your knees, and stared out at the city that didn’t notice you anymore. This was your nest now. Quiet. Still. Full of grief that didn’t ask for attention, just stayed perched and waiting.

And then, like muscle memory, you opened Chattr.

There was already a message waiting.

[go4goald2]: I tried tonight. Made an effort and still fucked it up.

You exhaled, soft and surprised. A strange flutter of recognition sparked in your chest.

[lostinthecrowd]: That’s more than a lot of people do.

[go4goald2]: Doesn’t feel like enough.

[lostinthecrowd]: What happened?

[go4goald2]: I wanted to do something good, something small. I thought it would matter, but all I did was remind her how long it’s been since I got it right.

You rested your chin on your knee, letting the blanket shift around your shoulders. The night air was cool against your skin.

[lostinthecrowd]: The effort counts even if it’s awkward and late.

[go4goald2]: I don’t know. Sometimes I think it just makes things worse. Like I pop back up trying to play house and she’s already rewritten her life without me in it.

You hesitated before responding.

[lostinthecrowd]: What made you pull away in the first place?

The reply didn’t come fast. A full minute passed. Then two. You thought maybe they’d closed the app.

But then the typing bubble appeared.

[go4goald2]: I got busy. I know it's not an excuse, but it started with wanting to give her everything and to make things easier. Pay the bills, say yes to every work gig and be someone she could be proud of.

[go4goald2]: But then it became… noise. So many meetings, late nights planning the next steps at work, connecting with investors and people wanting things from me all the time. Every time I came home, I felt like a shell. But she was still there, always waiting patiently. I didn’t know how to face her.

[go4goald2]: So I stopped showing up. Told myself I'd come back when I was less tired and more present. But I kept putting it off until it became normal to be gone.

You swallowed hard. Something about the rhythm of it, and the way they said “be someone she could be proud of” twisted in your chest.

[go4goald2]: And now I don't know how to come back. Not without her seeing everything I let fall apart.

[go4goald2]: I'm ashamed.

You stared at the screen.

Because how do you comfort someone whose regret sounds so familiar it might as well live in your house?

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s not too late, not if you mean it. Not if you’re willing to rebuild instead of rewind.

Another pause.

[go4goald2]: What if she doesn’t believe me anymore? What if I waited too long?

[lostinthecrowd]: Then show up anyway, consistency is louder than promises.

A breeze caught your hair, lifting it off your forehead. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, breathing through the weight in your ribs.

[go4goald2]: I want her to know I see her. Really see her. Not just when she’s upset, not just when she’s slipping away, but every day.

You didn’t respond right away.

Your thumbs hovered, useless, the words sitting heavy on your screen.

There was something about the way they phrased it, quiet and earnest. Like they meant it, even if they didn’t know how to say it out loud to the right person yet.

You sipped your wine and stared out over the city. The lights blurred softly against the dark, the breeze tugging gently at the frayed edges of the blanket in your lap.

You used to be seen like that. Or maybe you just liked to think you were.

You put your phone down for a second, face tipped to the sky, letting the silence settle where something like comfort should’ve been.

And when the tears came, they weren’t loud. Just slow. Private. The kind that don’t ask to be noticed. The kind you wipe away quickly, just in case someone walks out and asks if you’re okay.

But no one did.

The effort started showing up in little things.

Alexia folding the laundry before you got to it. Running to the store to pick up oat milk without being asked. Saying “Want to watch something?” instead of disappearing into the bedroom with her headphones and going on a call with her agent. She didn’t get it all right, she brought home the wrong brand of oat milk, folded the sheets inside out, and picked a movie you’d already seen twice. But she was trying. God, was she trying.

It wasn’t the kind of effort that made your heart swell. It made it ache. Because it felt like watching someone fumble through a routine they used to know by heart and now had to relearn from scratch.

On Wednesday night, she came home with takeout from that noodle place near your old apartment. The one you used to walk to in the middle of summer, sweaty and stupidly in love. She placed the bags on the counter like a peace offering and said, “Thought we could eat together tonight?”

You nodded. She brightened like it mattered.

She talked through most of dinner. Nothing serious. Just training, the new physio, the girl on the team who always forgot her cleats. You let her talk. Let her fill the space. She was trying to be light. Normal. Like maybe if she kept talking, she could talk you back into caring.

And for a second, you let her believe it was working.

After dinner, she hovered. You were rinsing dishes and she leaned against the counter, fingers tapping nervously against the edge. You knew that look. That “I want to say something but I’m scared of the words” look.

“I’ve been thinking…” she started, voice quiet. “About us. About how I’ve-”

Her phone buzzed. Loud. Jarring.

You saw the hesitation. The flicker of conflict.

But she answered it.

“Yeah?” she said, already walking toward the hallway. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got a minute.”

And just like that, the moment shattered.

You turned back to the sink, slowly rinsed out the last bowl. The water ran too hot, but you didn’t adjust it.

She didn’t come back in. You heard the bedroom door click closed a few minutes later.

The next night, she showed up with your favorite wine. The one you used to save for anniversaries or good news. She held it up like a trophy. “Got this on the way home. Figured we could split it and hang out a bit.”

You stared at the label. Something in your chest twisted.

“I can’t drink,” you said, keeping your voice even. “I’m on antibiotics.”

She blinked, thrown. “Oh. Since when?”

You shrugged. “Couple days. I’ve been sick.”

“Oh,” she said again.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but didn’t. Just set the bottle down and muttered something about putting it away for later.

You stood there for a moment after she walked off. Letting the silence settle over your shoulders like a too-heavy coat.

She hadn’t noticed.

You’d been in bed for two days. Tired, congested, barely eating. And she hadn’t noticed.

Not until you said it out loud.

Still. You weren’t made of stone.

There were moments where her effort chipped at something soft. The way she offered you tea that night without you asking. How she turned off the hallway light so it wouldn’t bother you when you tried to nap. How she lingered a little longer at the door when she left for training, like she wanted to say something.

But the thing that hurt most was how she still couldn’t say the one thing that mattered: I miss you.

She tried everything else. But not that.

Later, once the house had gone quiet and the wine sat untouched in the cabinet, you curled up on the couch with a blanket and opened Chattr.

[lostinthecrowd]: You ever feel like someone’s knocking, but it’s on the wrong door?

[go4goald2]: Jesus, yeah. All the time.

[go4goald2]: Weird coincidence… I always feel like I'm on the other side of that.

You smiled. A small one. Just for yourself. Sad. Quiet. The kind that doesn’t touch your mouth, only your chest.

[lostinthecrowd]: Someone brought me something today. Something they thought I'd love, but they didn’t realize I couldn't have it.

[go4goald2]: Ouch. That's… rough.

[lostinthecrowd]: Yeah, it’s like they remembered the old version of me. Not who I am now.

[go4goald2]: I get that. It's like when someone keeps reaching for the person they think you are, and you’re standing there, changed, wondering if they’ll ever notice.

[lostinthecrowd]: Exactly.

[go4goald2]: They probably meant well, doesn’t make it hurt less though.

[lostinthecrowd]: No. It doesn’t.

There was a beat of silence. Only the glow of your phone, the buzz of the city outside the balcony, and the heaviness in your chest that had nowhere else to go.

[go4goald2]: I think I want to want them again but I don't know if that’s the same thing as actually wanting them.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think that’s the loneliest kind of love.

The typing bubble appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.

[go4goald2]: What are you doing right now?

[lostinthecrowd]: Talking to you. Not sleeping. Being dramatic. The usual.

[go4goald2]: Good. Stay.

And so you did. Talking about nothing and everything. How certain smells always bring you back to childhood. How you hate the sound of ticking clocks. How lately, someone’s been trying to come back to you and you want to believe it matters. You really do. But there’s a part of you that keeps wondering if effort can still mean something after the silence has settled in too deep.

You didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. But you did. And they didn’t mind.

Alexia was down the hall. Lights off. Door closed.

You were somewhere else entirely.

Pt. 3

[kyber-crystal]

the albatross || f.w.

summary: the albatross is the largest bird that can go years without landing; they spend their first 6 years of life flying over the ocean before coming to the land to mate. It is capable of traveling more than 10,000 miles in a single journey and circumnavigating the globe in 46 days. (he's been up in the air his whole life, but is finally able to land when he falls in love with you: alt, 4 times everyone noticed he loved you, 1 time you noticed he loved you too)

words: ~4.1k

warnings: TOOTH-ROOTTING FLUFF, CLICHE, your usual stuff yk 

a/n: i’ve had that snippet above stuck in my notes for a year now and never made anything of it and thought hey i should do something about it. so here were are. also i can’t resist doing the 3x1/4x1/5x1 trope. its so superior. ngl tho writers block hit me kinda hard with this one so i struggled to finish…sorry in advance for my writing, idk how i feel ab the way this turned out 

add yourself to my hp taglist here!

one 

You were looking forward to today’s Transfiguration lesson. 

Up until this point, McGonagall had you continue practicing nonverbal spells; having them carry over from sixth year because she wanted to emphasize their importance. In addition to that, you were set to start learning how to transfigure tortoises into trumpets. It was bound to be a loud but entertaining affair.

“I need you all to remember to focus,” she reminded at the start of class, “and please, refrain from playing your trumpets should you manage to successfully transform your tortoise—I’m looking at you, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley.”

“Aw, darn it,” you heard the twins chorus in defeat. 

“Now, you will first review what you have in your notes, then practice individually. You may begin.”

A small, dusty green tortoise appeared on your desk, causing you to crack a tiny smile. You heard students muttering the incantation from all around you as they attempted the spell, one of them yelping in pain when their tortoise bit their finger. 

“Careful, Longbottom,” the Professor warned. 

You shook your head and smiled to yourself, patting your tortoise on the head. It seemed to just sigh in response.

Several minutes went by before someone broke your focus, poking your shoulder. 

“Psst! Y/N!” 

“What?” you hissed under your breath, looking over your left shoulder at Lee. “What do you want?”

He shrugged and passed you a slip of parchment. “For you.”

“Okay…”

You unfolded the paper and peered closer, examining the signature scrawl of none other than Fred. 

You look gorgeous today, darling. And it’s quite distracting, if I’m being honest.

Scowling, you glanced over to see that Fred was shamelessly staring at you and shot him a pointed glare. He simply gave you a cheeky grin then looked back down. Scribbling out a snarky reply—I look gorgeous every day, you daft dimbo—you crumpled up the parchment and decided to chuck itat his head. Without sparing another glance, he reached up and smoothly caught it with one hand. 

You muttered to yourself under your breath and refocused your gaze on your work. 

Not even a few moments later, Lee was poking your shoulder again to signal that Fred had tossed the note back.

Your name is pretty, but it’d look prettier next to my last. 

You know what else would look pretty? My fist in your face. -your reply

The exchange continued on, with him sending flirty notes, and you replying with half-flirty, half sarcastic remarks. But just as you were about to aim at Fred’s head for the nth time—

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Weasley, what in Godric’s name are you two doing?” 

You froze in your spot. Professor McGonagall was standing right by your desk, note in hand with her eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her chest. “Er, I—”

“Is there anything you two would like to share with the class?”

“No, it’s—”

“Actually, Professor, there is,” Fred declared, standing up and marching over to where you were, taking the paper out of McGonagall’s hands and opening it. “Since she hasn’t gotten to read it yet, I shall.”

He cleared his throat and began to read. 

“I’d face the storm, the darkest night,

With reckless heart and blazing light.

No cursed spell, no shadowed door,

Could shake the love I hold in store.

For you, I’d charge, both fierce and true—

My greatest courage lives in you.”

The classroom erupted into giggles as he finished with a bow, grinning proudly. It felt like your face was up in flames, if it wasn’t already burnt to a crisp. If Fred looked equally flustered you couldn’t tell at all, and he was masking it with that stupid cheeky look of his. 

You were too mortified and focused on the possibility of receiving detention to notice that McGonagall was trying to hide her smile; taking away House points now in the very back of her mind. 

Flitwick owed her 10 sickles. 

two

“Oi! Y/N, wake up!”

Something fluffy smacked you straight across the face and you hissed in annoyance, sitting up and rubbing your eyes to identify your attacker.

“Okay, I’m—what the hell are you three doing in here? It’s 3 in the morning,” you grumbled. “If you get caught—”

“T’was Fred’s idea,” Lee said innocently and dropped the pillow, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Hey! Why are you pinning all this on me? That’s not fair,” the older twin demanded. 

“Anyways, Y/N, the kitchens are empty.”

“No shit Sherlock, it’s the middle of the night. What do you all want?” you kept your voice down.

“We’re cooking up a storm tonight.”

“I hope you’re not referring to more Canary Creams?”

“No, we mean actual sweets,” Fred explained, taking your hand and pulling you out of bed. “Come on.”

The four of you crept down the staircase and through the halls as quietly as possible; George and Lee quietly talking to each other behind you while Fred remained by your side, hand still in yours. You were too tired and delirious to notice or care that he could’ve let go ages ago, but didn’t.

“Okay, we’re here,” George announced quietly and pushed open a grandiose, wooden door. 

The usually bustling kitchen was dead silent so that all you could hear were each other’s slow breaths. 

“Accio recipe,” Lee muttered quietly, and an old, worn maroon book came zooming towards him. He set it down onto the counter and propped it open, flipping through the pages and stopping on one particular recipe. “I hope you lot are up for some treacle tart.”

“I wish I could stay mad at you for smacking me in the face with that pillow, Lee,” you tried your hardest to suppress a laugh. “But you read my mind.”

“Okay then!” He clasped his hands, “let’s get to work.”

You picked one of the long wooden tables in the center of the room then got to work, quickly but efficiently rushing around the kitchen to collect what you needed. Fred rolled his sleeves up and leaned against the counter to watch you, in awe as you began measuring and pouring the ingredients with near-perfect accuracy.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help?” you finally looked up and noticed that he hadn’t been doing anything. 

“Sorry, you’re just distracting,” Fred sent you a wink, and you scoffed. “Okay, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’ll help you.” 

You fell into a silent but comfortable routine afterwards, evenly splitting up the work to finish preparing the tarts in less time. Neither of you noticed how you gradually inched closer to one another as you did so, shoulders brushing together every time you reached over to grab something or continue mixing the batter. 

“Hold on a minute, there’s some flour right—” Fred paused, thumb grazing your cheekbone. You felt a jolt of electricity where his skin brushed over yours. “—there.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, face suddenly feeling too hot even though the kitchens were far from it. 

“Always my pleasure,” he smiled, oblivious to your flustered state. 

Lee was standing with George a few rows away, focus switching between you two and the first batches of treacle tart that were now in the ovens, slowly beginning to bake. The distinct scent of sweet syrup and berries soon began wafting through the air, filling the room with a sweet and tantalizing aroma. 

“They can’t keep their hands off each other,” he grinned knowingly. “They’re standing just inches apart…they have the entire table to themselves and yet they stand like that.”

“And they say they’re just friends. I call bullshit,” said George, watching as Fred said something to you and you rolled your eyes, whacking him with your wooden spoon. Fred tugged you forward in response, trapping you in his strong arms as you let out a faint giggle, protesting for him to let you go. It wasn’t until he tilted his head down and you begrudgingly pressed a kiss to his cheek that he finally released you from his hold, looking as smug as ever. 

“10 galleons says they’re getting married in the next two years.”

“15 galleons.”

“You’re on, mate.”

three

DA practices were now everyone’s sole source of motivation. They had finally started work on Patronuses, which they had been very keen to practice, though, as Harry kept reminding you all that producing one in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they weren’t under threat was quite different from producing one when under threat, like by a Dementor. 

You exchanged a soft smile with Cho, admiring her silvery swan-shaped Patronus before attempting to refocus on your own work; on the last several tries you hardly managed more than a cloudy, wispy form. 

Closing your eyes, you recalled the time you had Quidditch practice on a snow day. Oliver ended practice a bit early (Angelina did have to convince him a bit though) and you spent the rest of that time pelting one another with snowballs and zipping around in the air, laughter echoing across the space. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt that carefree.

“Expecto Patronum!” Excitement began to build up in you but your shoulders slumped in defeat when again, just a thin wisp of silver smoke came out of your wand tip. “Damn it.”

“Y/N, you’ve got to think of something happy,” Harry reminded you.

“But I did,” you exhaled, voice strained. “I don’t get it. I thought…”

“Maybe it wasn’t strong enough. Try a new memory,” he suggested, “do you have anything else that might work?”

“Well, there is one…I don’t know if it’s my happiest, but it is one of them, and it is strong…”

“Then try that,” he said kindly. “You can do this.” You nodded and he walked away to help Neville, who was also struggling to cast his Patronus.

Readjusting your wand in your hand,  you closed your eyes once again and allowed the new memory to fill your mind. 

The first few weeks after the end of term and the start of the summer holidays were always the hardest. As badly as you missed home and your parents, you also missed constantly being around your friends and the Weasley family. At this point it had been three weeks since you’d seen Fred; you never went longer than that without seeing him. 

You and your parents had spent three blissful weeks traveling around France. From exploring the lavender fields in Provence, smelling the fresh sea air and seeing the breathtaking Mont-Saint-Michel castle in Normandy, to biting into pillowy soft pastries in Paris, you did it all. But you still felt that distinct ache to be back at Hogwarts with your close friends. 

“The Burrow!” you exclaimed, Floo powder in hand. Glowing green flames engulfed your body and then you were standing outside your third home in mere seconds, giddy with excitement. 

“THERE SHE IS!” you heard several voices shout with delight. Your best friends immediately came bursting through the door and stampeding towards you. Fred was the first to reach you, positively glowing with happiness as he swept you into a tight bear hug, spinning you around. He attacked you with repeated kisses to your temple then cheeks as he said how glad he was to finally see you. He was clutching you so tight that you almost lost your breath, but you were so happy to see him as well that you couldn’t care less. 

“Oi, we’re here too, lovebirds!” you heard Ron shout. You laughed and pulled away from Fred’s embrace to go greet everyone else. As you were hugging Ginny you made eye contact with Fred, that gleaming look still in his eyes. Your heart felt so full at that moment, you thought it would burst. 

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” you shouted. A flash of silvery-blue light emitted from your wand and a dainty squirrel burst forward. You smiled to yourself as Harry complimented your work. 

But what surprised you more was the small bird swooping in from above—it caught sight of your squirrel Patronus and started chasing it around the Room of Requirement, their forms glowing brightly. Several others stopped what they were doing to watch the spectacle, confused but amazed. 

“Pretty cool, innit,” you heard a voice say from besides you. You turned to make eye contact with Fred, who was looking at you with amusement. 

“Yeah…is that a sparrow?” you pointed up at his Patronus, which was still chasing yours around the room and leaving a trail of glitter behind itself as it did so. 

“It’s a magpie,” said Fred. “Although I also thought it was a sparrow at first.”

“Well, it looks like they like each other…” 

“Art imitates life, right? Is that what they say?”

“Something like that, I guess,” you laughed softly, leaning into him. “It’s beautiful.”

“What did you think of?” he asked. “Beating Umbridge’s arse to a pulp? Just say the words and I’ll gladly help with that.”

You snorted. “No, I tried that last time but I guess it wasn’t strong enough. I don’t know how this one could’ve been happier than that.”

“Then whatever it was, it must’ve been pretty strong.”

“Definitely…” The scene flashed across your mind again, and you felt heat crawling up your cheeks. “it was.”

“His Patronus can’t seem to let go of hers,” Hermione whispered from the other side of the room; hers and Ginny’s otter and horse Patronuses were gracefully gliding around them. “You know what that means…”

“I haven’t a clue,” Ginny responded as she glanced over Fred, who now had an arm around you. “Why’s that so important?”

“Because, Gin!” she whisper-shouted. “Magpies hunt squirrels!”

“Okay…what’s the correlation there?” Ginny was now confused. 

“He’s in love with her, of course! I was reading up on Patronuses last week; when someone has feelings of deep affection for someone else, either their Patronuses change to match or they produce what’s like an opposite to the person they love. Hence the hunter and prey pairing.”

“You just figured out they love each other?”

“No, but this just confirms it,” the bushy-haired girl’s mouth stretched into a wide grin.

four

It felt like hours since you had last seen the light of day. Right now you were waist-deep in assignments, preparing for your mind-numbing History of Magic project that was due the next morning. Sleep was threatening to pull you under and it took everything you had not to slump over and doze off on the spot. 

“Ange,” you yawned and cupped a hand over your mouth, “did you finish the revisions yet?” 

“Almost,” she returned your tired yawn and slid the parchment she was working on over to you. “Do you mind checking this over for me?” 

“Mhm,” you mumbled, peering down at her tidy handwriting and picking up your quill. You rubbed your eyes and drew out a long breath. “Godric’s sake, what time is it?”

“Quarter to midnight,” Katie responded, jotting something down in her notepad, “I think we’re almost done…”

“...these damn revisions are taking bloody forever,” you groaned, placing your chin in your hand, “almost more than the time we took researching.”

“I despise history,” said Alicia.

“Hear, hear,” you and Angelina said tiredly.

All of a sudden you heard a rustle and the screech of someone pulling a chair out next to you. The comforting smell of broomsticks and cinnamon instantly hit your nose, which didn’t help with you already wanting to doze off. 

“There’s my Y/N,” Fred greeted warmly. His hand-knitted maroon Weasley jumper hung loosely off his toned frame, bringing out the color in his eyes and cheeks. He looked painfully attractive in everything, you realized.  

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Not when I know you aren’t,” he said plainly. “It’s late, but you’re here, right? So that’s why I’m here as well.”

You seemed to be completely oblivious to the way he kept staring at you as you continued to work. He couldn't help but stare; he found it rather endearing, the way you'd sigh every so often when stuck on a difficult problem and how you'd get this crease between your brows because you were deep in concentration. 

After several minutes you finally glanced up, a quizzical look on your face as you realized he was still watching you so intently. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he smiled softly, reaching over to briefly cup your cheek. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie exchanged knowing looks at this. “Just looking out for you, of course.”

The flickering lanterns overhead cast a warm golden light over the room, illuminating his features in a dim and hazy glow. There was an unmistakably soft and wistful sort of look in his eyes and you felt your heart race the longer his eyes stayed on you. Did he always look at you that way? You couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at you with anything other than admiration and delight but then again, Fred was known to be very open with those he cared for. 

Another hour went by and by this point you were fast asleep, head leaning against your arms on the table and parts of your hair spilling across your forehead. If he didn’t know any better, Fred would’ve thought you were an angel, part Veela, or something along those lines. Was there anything better? he thought to himself. If there was, that’s exactly what she is.

Fred slid his jumper off and as carefully as possible, slid it under your head so that you had something soft to rest on and wouldn’t wake up complaining that there were ink stains on your skin. He took the quill from your outstretched fist and set it by your side, and wordlessly began putting your things into your bag for you.

It was another two hours until you eventually stirred awake but he stayed, quietly waiting and watching; relishing in the peace and comfort that he knew only your company could bring. 

plus one

It probably would’ve been a wise idea to heed Katie’s advice and not overwork yourself; even Hermione had said you clearly looked exhausted and needed a break from studying. But being as stubborn as you were, you didn’t listen, and now you were starting to feel the consequences of your actions. 

So here you were now alone in the girls’ dormitory, curled up in bed with a stuffy nose, sore throat, pounding headache that felt like it would split your brain in two, along with crippling nausea. Despite your stomach grumbling after having skipped out on breakfast and lunch, the mere thought of eating made you feel even more sick. 

All you wanted to do in that moment was crawl into a hole and fall asleep for several centuries. 

Realizing that sitting there doing nothing wouldn’t help, you decided to at the very least, open your Charms textbook and get caught up on the past few reading assignments. You mentally reminded yourself to thank Angelina for standing in today and taking notes for you; the girl was saving you hours’ worth of work that likely would’ve had you collapsing all over again.

A loud CRASH from somewhere nearby caused you to jump slightly and almost slam the book closed on your fingers. Glancing around at the sudden noise, you were about to assume it was Peeves being chased by Filch after causing trouble (you definitely didn’t experience this from having helped him and the twins out with a prank in which you chucked a Dungbomb into his office). But then you remembered they never directly entered the girls’ dormitories and laughed to yourself.  

The door creaked open and Fred’s all-too-familiar figure stumbled through, breathing hard with his hands behind his back. He was shifting from foot to foot and he looked kind of…nervous?

“Fred?”

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you all day,” his face broke into a bashful grin, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m…alright…”

“Well, I got you something,” said Fred, and quickly handed you a sweet-smelling bouquet of flowers. “I hope you like these, it took a while to grow them. Longbottom helped me out a bit.” 

“T-these are…” you stammered, pulse racing. The flowers shone brightly under the afternoon light; they were probably the prettiest things you’d seen in, well, forever. 

“—your favorite, I know,” he finished your sentence.

“But how did y—”

“It’s the same kind of flower as the dried ones that are in the bookmark you use for all your classes,” he explained, still slightly out of breath. “It’s the color of your favorite wool hat. It’s the color of the jumper I bought, I told you it’s because I liked how my eyes went with it but really, it’s because it reminded me of you. It’s what I smelled in George and I’s Amortentia in Potions. It’s you, Y/N, it’s all you and it has always brought me back to you. It always will, every single time.”

Suddenly, the realization slammed into you with a force of a Bludger traveling a hundred miles an hour. 

Fred Weasley loved you. You loved Fred Weasley.

And it had taken you forever to notice. 

He sat by your side and reached for your hand, taking it in his and interlocking your fingers together like it was normal; like he had done so dozens of times before. Because he had, but something about this one made your heart skip an extra beat and all the words you wanted to say leave your brain instantly. 

“I look terrible,” you turned your face into his chest so that your cheek was now resting against the fabric of his jumper, “and you might get sick too. You should go…”

“I don’t care,” he mumbled, sliding his arms around you, “I’ve got all day. Snape can take my delightfully dimwitted Potions essay and shove it up his a—”

You chuckled a bit at this and took that moment to glance up at him—he was still gazing at you longingly. You’d never seen him look at anyone or anything that way; unless you counted the excited look he got when Hogwarts had its annual holiday feast and piles of food appeared on the tables. Or that look he got after winning a Quidditch match. 

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” you asked, shaking your head. “For taking as long as I did to realize that I’m in love with you. Everyone was practically screaming at me about it and yet I still couldn’t put the pieces together and see.”

That signature grin was back on his face. “You’re in love with me?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Weasley—”

He grinned, stopping what you were going to say next by closing the gap and sealing his lips over yours. Now it wasn’t the nausea that had your head whirling around; it was the feeling of him kissing you like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do, and it was intoxicating. He was right there all along—your best friend for as long as you could remember—and suddenly you couldn’t seem to register anything else other than the fact that you wanted to stay in the moment until you completely lost your breath. 

“Fred, I told you, you’re going to get sick,” you exhaled as you pulled apart, “I know you don’t want that.”

“And I told you I don’t care.” He brought you back in and kissed you a second, then third time, “all the more excuse to spend time with you.”

(He did get sick the following day, leaving a disgruntled Hermione to take care of not just you, but him as well.) 

a/n pt 2: yes the poem was done by chatgpt. i’m horrible at writing normally, and even worse at writing poetry. sorry yall LOL. also can you tell i love writing cheesy monologues. yeah. and also i’m sorry for the cringe ending

tags: @miissasa @bittermileymilez @daisydark @brinachiii @foreverthemaraudersera @viharbinger @ladyclay @apileofschist @arkofblake @lizzyrose200 @4ngeltrumpettt

[rafayelxsylusho]

These are just making my stomach flip!😍😍

Now I wanna know is...how would our beautiful boys react if y/n/MC was trying to get them jealous instead?

💅🏻

Sorry it took such a long time!! I was planning on posting them all together but I'm still working on the other three.

Enjoy!!

How do the LADS men act when they are jealous Part 1

Zayne/Xavier

Zayne's lips crashed against yours the moment the front door clicked shut behind you, his strong hands gripping your waist and pulling your curves flush against his muscular frame. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim every inch of it.

"Mmm, I've been waiting for that all day," Zayne murmured against your lips. His hands began to wander, sliding up your sides and cupping the swell of your breasts through the thin fabric of your shirt. You gasped into his mouth, your own hands fisting in his dark hair as you pressed closer to him.

Zayne took the opportunity to walk you backwards, his lips never leaving yours, until your back hit the wall. He pinned you there with his hips, one hand sliding under your skirt to grip the back of your thigh while the other fisted in your hair, forcing your head back to expose the column of your throat to his hungry mouth.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point before biting down, marking you. You cried out, head falling back against the wall with a thud, your hips bucking against his as you felt his hard length pressing insistently against your core.

"Zayne," voice high and breathy with need. "We can't... not here..." You protested weakly even as your body screamed for his touch.

"Then let's take this to the bedroom," he said, his voice a low growl. In a flash, he swept you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the hall to your room. He kicked the door shut before tossing you onto the bed, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his hazel eyes.

"I want you," he said, his hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt up around your waist. "I want to feel your skin against mine, your body under me as I make you scream my name." His other hand slid under your shirt, pushing the cups of your bra down to free your aching breasts. "I want to taste every inch of you."

He was acting differently than usual, his slow and sensual pace replaced by a desperate need to claim your body. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours as his hands stilled on your bare skin. "What's wrong?" you asked softly, tracing your fingers along his jawline.

Zayne's expression tightened briefly before he shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing's wrong," he assured you, his voice low and smooth. "I just... I want you. More than anything." His hands began to move again, sliding down your sides and hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. He tugged at them, pulling them down your legs until he could toss them carelessly to the floor. He settled between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your core as he leaned down to capture your mouth in a kiss.

"I need to be inside you," he said, his voice a low growl against your lips. "I need to feel you around me, hear you moan my name as I make you come undone." You arched up against him, your nails raking down his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Then take me"

His grip tightened on your thighs as he flipped you over onto your stomach, your skirt still bunched up around your waist. He pressed his palms against the small of your back, urging you to arch it and lift your hips, exposing your bare ass to his hungry eyes.

"Like this," you heard him say "I want to see you like this, all laid out and ready for me to take you." His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, squeezing and kneading the globes as he positioned himself behind you. His large hand pressed firmly against your upper back, just below your shoulder blades, pinning your face down against the mattress. Your heart raced at this new position, this level of dominance you weren't used to from him.

He leaned over you, his muscular chest pressing against your back, his hips nestling between your thighs. "Keep your ass up for me."

His hand slid down your spine again, his fingers splaying across the curve of your ass. He gripped the flesh hard, squeezing and kneading, before delivering a sharp smack to one cheek. The sound of the slap echoed through the room, followed by your startled gasp.

Zayne growled in approval, his hips rolling forward to grind his hard, clothed cock against your bare folds. "Fuck, you have such a perfect ass," you could hear the sound of the zipper of his jeans lowering with a soft hiss "I can't wait to sink my cock deep inside your tight little cunt." He punctuated his words with another smack to your ass, this time on the other cheek. Then, without warning, he gripped your hips tight and thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You cried out into the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as he began to move, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. This was a side of him you'd never seen before, a raw, primal hunger that both thrilled and frightened you. But most of all, it ignited a fire within you, a burning need to submit to his every demand.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Zayne snarled, his hips never faltering as he took you with a ferocity you'd never expected. You tried to move your hands, craving the feel of Zayne's skin against your palms, but he was having none of it. In a show of raw strength, he grabbed your wrists and pulled your arms back, using them as leverage to yank your hips harder against his, impaling you even deeper on his throbbing cock. "Ahh!" you cried out, back arching as he hit a spot deep inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your walls clenched around him, trying to draw him even further in, as if your body was desperate to keep him buried inside. "Keep still, let me fuck you like I need to fuck you." His grip on your wrists tightened, holding your arms behind your back as he continued his relentless assault on your pussy, each thrust punching the air from your lungs.

The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, striking that sweet spot inside you with every drive of his hips. Wet sounds filled the room as he rutted into you, the force of his thrusts making your ass jiggle and your tits bounce beneath you. You could only hold on for dear life as he used your body for his pleasure, claiming you in a way that made you feel owned, possessed, utterly and completely his.

You felt Zayne release your wrists, your arms dropping limply to your sides as you gasped for air. Before you could catch your breath, he leaned over your back, his muscular chest pressing against you, pinning you down. One large hand splayed across your stomach, holding you in place as his other hand dipped between your thighs. You could feel his fingers brushing against your swollen, sensitive clit, gathering the slick evidence of your arousal.

"Suck," Zayne commanded, his voice a low, dominant growl in your ear. He pressed his fingers against your lips, coated in your juices, demanding your obedience. Your lips parted instinctively, and he pushed two long digits into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. The taste of your own slick exploded across your taste buds, heady and intoxicating.

"Taste how wet you are for me," Zayne rasp, his hips never stilling their relentless rhythm as he fucked into you. "Taste how much your little cunt is dripping for my cock."

He curled his fingers inside your mouth, stroking along your tongue, as his other hand slid up to wrap around your throat. He didn't squeeze, just rested his hand there, a reminder of his dominance, his control over your pleasure.

"Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," he praised, his hot breath fanning across the back of your neck.

He tightened his grip around your throat as he yanked you back against his muscular chest, your back arching to accommodate his demand. At the same time, he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat as he fucked your mouth with the same relentless pace as his hips thrusted into your cunt.

His hand on your throat slid down your trembling body to find your aching clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, rough circles. Drool leaked from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving tits.

"I'm not going to last much longer," Zayne panted, his hot breath washing over your neck and ear. "Tell me," he growled "Tell me you're mine, that this sweet little cunt belongs to me. Say it, Y/n."

He pinched your clit hard, rolling the tender flesh between his fingers as he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt. "Come on, let me hear you say it," Zayne demanded, his hazel eyes blazing with possessive desire. "Tell me you're mine, that your pleasure, your body, your soul... it all belongs to me. Only to me." His fingers pressed against the roof of your mouth, holding you in place as he felt his heavy balls draw up tight.

"Do it," he snarled "Give me what I want, and I'll give you what you need. Say the words"

The realization hit you like a train, the understanding that Zayne's intense, almost feral claiming of your body stemmed from a place of jealousy. Seeing you with Caleb this afternoon had ignited a primal need in him, a desire to assert his ownership of you, to mark you as his and his alone. As the truth sank in, your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision going white as ecstasy consumed you. "I'M YOURS!" you screamed, your voice raw and hoarse from the force of your release. "ALL YOURS, ZAYNE! EVERY PART OF ME BELONGS TO YOU!"

Your pussy clamped down around his cock, rippling and fluttering as you came undone. Your body convulsed in his arms, shaking and trembling as pleasure wracked through every nerve ending. Drool leaked from your open mouth, tears streamed down your face as you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensation. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hip, holding you in place as he slammed into you one last time, burying himself as deep as physically possible. His cock jerked and throbbed inside your walls as he found his release, painting your insides with thick ropes of his cum.

In that moment, you knew you would do anything, give anything, to feel this way again. To be possessed so completely, so utterly and irrevocably, by the man you loved. You'd never felt so thoroughly used, so owned, and it was everything you never knew you needed.

Zayne collapsed against you, his muscular chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as the aftershocks of your shared orgasms rolled through you.

"Mine," he said tenderly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "All mine.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to watch you smile at someone else?" he asks quietly. "To see their eyes linger on you just a moment too long, and wonder..."

He trails off, jaw clenching. His hand on your waist tightens slightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip.

"No one gets to have you like I do," he tells you fervently. "No one gets to see you come apart, to hear you say my name like it's the only word you know." His other hand slides up your thigh, under the hem of your skirt. His fingers find the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tracing maddening patterns that make you shiver.

"I've seen the way he looks at you. Like he's trying to memorize every curve, every inch of your face." Xavier's hand slides higher up your thigh, fingertips grazing the edge of your panties. "A man doesn't do that unless he's imagining all the ways he wants to touch you." He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip as he tilts your chin up to force you to meet his gaze. The pad of his thumb pushes into your mouth, tracing the smooth, slick flesh.

"You can't tell me he was just being friendly. I know better." Xavier's voice drops to a low murmur, his breath mingling with yours. "A man always wants more when he looks at you the way he does. And I won't let him have it."

Xavier hooks a finger under the fabric of your panties and tugs them roughly to the side, exposing your most intimate area to the cool air of the room. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your glistening folds, he traces a single finger along your slit, teasing, not quite touching where you need him most. His touch is maddeningly light, barely a whisper of skin on skin. It makes your hips cant forward, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"And no one else gets to feel this pretty little pussy clench around their cock," he murmurs, pressing a finger just inside your entrance . He pumps it slowly, shallowly, barely breaching you before pulling back out. "Fuck, you're so tight. Always so fucking tight for me."

His thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub with light touch. Your head falls back against the couch, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His finger pumps a little faster, a little deeper, but still not enough. Never enough. Suddenly he buries his face between your thighs, not allowing you to see his expression, his eyes. He knows how much you love watching him, reading the raw desire and hunger in his gaze as he pleasures you. But now, lost in the shadow of your skirt, he denies you that thrill, leaving you in the dark about his intentions.

His tongue parts your folds, a long lick from your entrance up to your clit, he focus his attention there, suckling and flicking the sensitive bud with a fervor that borders on punishing. It's intense, almost too much. He feels your hands moving to lift your skirt, to give you a clearer view of what he's doing to you. But before you can, he warns you off with a sharp nip to your clit that makes you gasp and jerk against him. "Ah-ah-ah," voice muffled against your flesh. "Keep your hands off." he tightens his grip on your ankles, holding your legs spread wider, locking you in place. The stretch is delicious almost painful, leaving you open and exposed to his hungry mouth.

He dives back in, tongue delving deep into you. He's relentless, his assault on your senses unyielding. Lick, suck, nibble, he works you over with a single minded intensity that steals your breath and sets your nerve endings ablaze. You can feel the vibration of his low groans against your core as he loses himself in tasting you.

He's punishing you, in a way. Punishing you for the way you tease him, for the way you make him crazy with jealousy. Punishing you for the effect you have on him, the power you hold over him. "Xavier," you gasp out, voice ragged with need. "Touch me...please..."but he just hums against your clit and suckles harder, flicks his tongue faster, pushing you closer to the edge. But still, his hands remain locked around your ankles, holding you down, keeping you at his mercy. He's proving that he can bring you to the heights of pleasure without even touching your breasts, without even grazing your nipples with his fingers.

When he feels your body tense, your walls fluttering around his invading tongue as your orgasm crashes over you, he moans against your core, the vibrations prolonging your peak, drawing it out until you're writhing beneath him. But even as the aftershocks fade, he doesn't stop, his tongue continues its merciless dance, licking and suckling your over sensitive flesh. He ignores your gasped pleas for him to stop, for him to give you a moment to catch your breath. Instead, he doubles down, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from you.

Your hands fist in the fabric of your skirt, gripping tightly as you try to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensations. But the pleasure is too intense, too much. Tears spring to your eyes as he overstimulates your nerve endings, pushing you to the limit of what you can take.

"Xav, please..." you gasp out, voice ragged and broken. But he pays no attention to your plea, continuing his punishing rhythm.

He's never done this before, never pushed you so far past the point of no return. It's overwhelming, the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting focus of his desire. Your second climax builds quickly, your body responding to his skilled mouth with a speed that leaves you breathless. You're drowning in sensation, lost in a sea of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. And still, he doesn't stop, doesn't let up, driving you ruthlessly towards another shattering peak.

He pauses when he feels your legs straining against his grip as you try to free yourself from his hold. He looks up, silvery hair falling back from his face as he meets your eyes. His eyes are dark, nearly black with desire, the blue irises barely visible in the dim light.

"Watch me," he commands, voice low and rough with need. "I want to see when you cum this time."

As he speaks, he releases your ankles, allowing your legs to fall open, fully exposing you. In one swift motion, he removes your skirt and panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. Leaving you bare, vulnerable and at his mercy again.

His hands slide up your thighs and pushes your legs further apart, until you're spread wide, open, and ready. His eyes never leave yours as he leans in, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "Keep your eyes on me," he orders, before his mouth is on you again, tongue delving deep, fucking you with a fervor that steals your breath. His eyes bore into yours, watching, waiting, savoring every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. The pleasure is intense, the intimacy overwhelming, as he demands your complete surrender, your total focus. There is no escape, no distraction. Only the two of you, locked in this moment of raw, primal connection. He drives two fingers deep into your aching core as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The sudden intrusion, the stretch, the fullness, it's too much. Your orgasm crashes over you, back arching off the couch, a silent scream tearing from your throat. He feels your walls clench, gripping his fingers like a vice as your release floods through you. He pumps his fingers in time with the strokes of his tongue, drawing out your climax until it consumes you entirely. Your eyes, hazy and unfocused, meet his intense gaze. The black of his pupils has swallowed all but a thin ring of blue, his stare almost feral in its hunger. He's watching you, watching the ecstasy play out across your face, committing every second of your pleasure to memory.

"Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful when you cum. So perfect."

Only then does he pull away, fingers slipping from your dripping core, tongue licking your essence from his lips with a low, satisfied groan.

"That's it, baby, you did so well. Took everything I gave you like a good girl."

He stands, the sound of his zipper echoing loudly in the charged air of the room as he frees himself. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him, hard and heavy and straining towards his abdomen, the thick length of him making your mouth water, but before you can react further, he is picking you up, strong arms encircling your waist as he sits down on the couch, settling you on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place. "Hold onto the couch," voice low and rough with need. "Keep yourself up, baby. I'm going to fuck you now."

"Keep your hands right there. Don't move them from the backrest." At the same time, he's already tugging your shirt up and over your breasts, exposing you to the cool air, your nipples harden instantly. He leans down, hot mouth latching onto one aching peak, tongue swirling and suckling greedily, his teeth graze the sensitive bud. His other hand is on your neglected breast, pinching and plucking, heightening your arousal.

You squirm in his lap, hips rolling instinctively, seeking friction, seeking him. But his grip on your hips tightens, holding you still, keeping you in place. "Please," you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. "Please, Xavier..."

"Shh, I've got you, baby," he murmurs against your breast, soothing you even as his touch inflames your desire. He takes his time, laving your breasts with long, slow licks of his flat tongue. He knows how sensitive you are, how easily he can reduce you to a writhing, begging mess with just this simple act. He's mapping every inch of the soft swells, tracing the curves and valleys with a thoroughness that speaks to his intimate knowledge of your body's responses. His tongue swirls around one straining peak before he suckles hard, pulling the tender bud deep into his mouth. At the same time, he's circling your clit with the leaking tip of his cock, the thick head sliding through your slick folds, catching on the sensitive bundle of nerves with each pass.

You're panting now, hips rolling desperately, trying to take him inside, to feel that first delicious stretch as he fills you. But he's teasing you, tormenting you with the promise of his thick length, denying you that final push.

"Please," you whimper, voice breaking on a moan as he laves your other nipple with the same attention. "Please, Xavier, I need...I need..."

But he's lost in his own world, consumed by the taste and feel of you, the way you tremble and mewl so sweetly for him. He's drunk on the power he holds over you, the way your body responds to his slightest touch as if starved for his caress. He pulls back slightly, his intense gaze locking with yours. His eyes are ablaze with a hunger that steals your breath, a primal desire that makes your heart race. "Look at me, can you see the way I'm looking at you right now? That's how he was looking at you. Like he wanted to devour you whole, like you're the only thing that matters in this world. But only I get to see you like this, only I get to make you fall apart."

To punctuate his words, he bites down on your nipple, a sharp sting that blends deliciously with the pleasure coursing through your veins. At the same time, he rubs your clit with the broad head of his cock, circling and pressing, applying just the right amount of pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. When your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clench, gripping nothing, making you feel empty.

"Fuck, yes, cum on my cock," he growls, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he thrusts up, sheathing himself inside you to the hilt in one powerful stroke, you cry out when you feel the delicious stretch. He's so big, stretching you to your limit, claiming every inch of you. And then he's moving, hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he starts to fuck you. Slowly at first, giving you time to adjust to his size, to the delicious drag of his length against your sensitive walls.

Xavier feels your body going limp, the aftershocks of your intense orgasm leaving you boneless and spent. You're collapsed against his chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to catch your breath. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping tight, and tugs your head back. The sharp sting of pain mixes deliciously with the pleasure still sparking through your nerves as he forces you to meet his gaze.

"Come on, baby," he coaxes, voice low and rough with desire. "Give me one more. I know you have at least one more in you. Just one more, for me." His other hand slides down to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh, pulling you harder against him. He's still thrusting into you, still fucking you with deep, powerful strokes that hit that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Look at me," he demands, fingers tightening in your hair. "Look at me while I make you cum again, y/n. I want to watch your face as I fuck you through another one." He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss, tongue delving deep to claim your mouth as thoroughly as he's claiming your body. He swallows your whimpers and moans, drinking down every sound of your ecstasy as he drives into you. "I...I can't," you whimper, voice ragged and weak, your body trembling with exhaustion. "It's too much, I'm too sensitive..." But he cuts off your protest, gripping your hair even tighter, forcing your chin up with his thumb pressing hard against it.

"Yes, you can," he insists, dark eyes blazing into yours with intensity. "And you will. I know you have more in you. I can feel it. Your body was made to take everything I give you, to crave it." He proves his point with a sharp thrust, grinding against that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. A strangled cry escapes your lips, back arching as much as his grip on your hair allows.

"Found it ," he groans, picking up the pace, fucking into you harder, faster. "Take it, baby. Take everything I have to give you. Your cunt is mine, your orgasms are mine. I decide when you're done."

His other hand slides down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. The dual sensations, the relentless stimulation, it's almost too much. Tears spring to your eyes from the intensity of it, from the way he's pushing you beyond anything you've ever experienced before.

"Come on," he urges "One more. Give me one more. Let me feel this greedy little pussy grip my cock. Fuck, you're so close, I can feel you squeezing me. Do it, baby. Cum for me, scream for me, let me hear that pretty voice crying my name." His words wash over you, commanding, urging, pushing you to the brink of another shattering climax. Your body is on fire, nerves singing with pleasure, every inch of your skin hypersensitive and alive. When your orgasm crashes over you, it's intense and overwhelming, stealing your breath and your sanity. Your mouth falls open as your release floods your system, your walls clamping down around him. "XAVIER!" you cry out, voice echoing through the room, surely carrying through the thin walls of your apartment. "FUCK, XAVIER!"

He snarls, a feral sound of pure satisfaction, and then he slams into you one last time. His cock pulses, throbbing as he hilts inside you, painting your insides with thick ropes of his cum. He grinds against you, making sure every last drop is seated deep inside you.

He holds you tight as you both come down from the heights of your shared climax. Your bodies are slick with sweat, chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. His softening cock stays nestled inside you, a claiming presence that makes you feel owned, possessed.

"Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Such a good girl, giving me that last one." He rocks you gently, arms wrapped around you like a protective shield, as the last tremors fade away. You're exhausted, drained, utterly spent, but you've never felt more content, more complete. You're exactly where you're meant to be, right here in the arms of the man you love.

Before the overwhelming exhaustion can pull you under, before you collapse completely against his strong chest, you whisper the four words that Xavier has been desperate to hear fall from your lips. "I love you, Xavier." you breathe out, the confession soft but clear in the quiet of the room. Your voice is hoarse from screaming his name, raw from the intensity of it all, but the feeling behind it is undeniable. For a moment, the only sound is the ragged rhythm of your breathing, the two of you tangled together in the aftermath of your lovemaking. Then, you feel it, a sudden, sharp increase in the pace of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. It's a rare occurrence, this display of emotion from Xavier. He's always so controlled, so calm and collected, even in the heat of passion. But your whispered declaration has shaken something deep inside him. His arms tighten around you reflexively, crushing you against his chest as if he's afraid you might disappear if he lets you go. You can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat, hear the hitch in his breathing as he processes your words. He's silent for a long moment, and for a terrified second, you wonder if you've said something wrong.

The last thing you hear before you succumb to slumber is the rhythm of Xavier's heartbeat, and the whispered words that seal your fate. "I love you too," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Forever."

[moonchild9350]

Bows, Lilac, and Kittens

Summary: Han doesn’t think he’s needy, unlike what his band mates believe, but that all changes when he sees you in his favorite type of lingerie.

Pairing: established relationship idol Han x fab reader

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: pussy job, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cum tasting.

Notes: idk I think Jisung would be into this haha I hope you like it! If so consider a reblog, comment, and like ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Babe, do you think I’m needy?”

Your boyfriend Jisung had just walked through the door, screaming the question as he made his way to your bedroom. You stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body since you were fresh out of the shower. You looked at Jisung, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, a pout on his face, making his cheeks seem bigger. He had his arms crossed, as he looked at you with his big boba eyes, as he awaited your answer.

“No, of course not baby,” you replied as you walked over to your dresser, pulling out a pair of panties and a shirt.

You pulled the shirt over your head and then slid one leg and then the other through your panties, pulling them up over your hips, the band snapping in place as they settled over your ass. You wanted to tease Jisung, to prove a point. Your boyfriend thought he wasn’t needy, but that was far from the truth, especially in the bedroom. Proving your point, you heard Jisung let out a whimper, your head immediately turning to look at the man after hearing the sound.

His eyes were trained on your ass, his mouth open. Anyone would say he was enamored with the flesh, not too flat but a nice roundness to the globes, but you knew better. Yes, you know Jisung loves every part of you, but there was one thing that drove him crazy, bringing out the neediness in him. That was your panties and not just any panties, but the ones you kept that were cute more than sexy, little patterns decorated across the fabric and a little bow in the center.

You looked down and noticed what panties you had chosen this time, a smirk forming across your face. The fabric was a soft lilac with little kittens littered across them, a little pink bow on the band. Looking up, you took in how Jisung wiggled in place, his eyes never leaving your pelvis. You felt your pussy clench at the attention, his gaze turning you on.

“Mmmm,” you said, slowly walking towards your lover, “maybe you’re a little needy after all.”

Jisung was practically drooling, his mouth open, and eyes wide. You noticed the tent in his pants, watching as he let out yet another whimper.

“Wanna see more?” You teased, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Jisung nodded his head, his hair flopping up and down obscuring his eyes. He pushed the hair out of his face and looked up at you.

“Yes, yes please,” he begged.

You giggled at his desperation before pulling your shirt up, your panties on display. You were dripping, your arousal seeping into the material. Jisung gripped your waist suddenly and yanked you toward him, burying his face in your pelvis, as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent.

He placed kiss after kiss along your mound before dipping his head lower and darting his tongue out, the tip of the muscle brushing against your clothed clit. You jerked at the sensation, your hands gripping your shirt tighter as Jisung continued to lick the bud. You felt more slick gush into your panties as you slowly rocked your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue.

You tossed your head back, lost in the pleasure Jisung was giving you, the warm feeling spreading throughout your belly. You felt you could cum like this, the feeling close, the band expanding in your belly letting you know sweet bliss was close. But, before you could open your mouth to let him know, he pulled himself back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the material of your panties.

Jisung groaned, looking at the mess he made, the material soaked and sticking to your skin. Without warning he yanked you onto the bed and spread your legs.

“Take your shirt off baby,” he said breathlessly as he slid his sweats and boxers down, his cock springing free of its confines.

You slid your shirt up and over your head, your tits on display for the man above you. You spread your legs wider as he stepped in between them, eyes glued to your covered core, stroking his cock.

“You’re soaked baby,” he groaned, reaching out his finger to press the material of your panties to your core.

Shivering at his touch, you replied, “all for you Sungie.”

“All for me,” he whispered, grasping his cock once more to drag it through your covered folds.

You let out a moan, grasping the sheets below as he slid his cock again and again through the fabric. You were dripping, your slick soaking the panties creating a sheer effect. Each stroke of his cock slipped against your clit, the tip kissing the swollen bud over and over.

Jisung let out a strangled cry, before he shifted your panties to the side, slipping his cock beneath the material. He pressed the hard appendage down, the head slipping through your thick folds, causing a squelching sound to be heard.

“Ohh my god, babe,” Jisung moaned out as he frantically began to thrust his hips, pressing his shaft to glide through your folds. Your breath kicked up, as the pleasure increased, that sensation building up once more in your belly. You moaned out as Jisung whimpered, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on fucking your lips.

“Look at that baby,” he managed to breathe out, “your soaking, can see my cock between your cute little folds.”

You looked down, your pussy clenching at the sight. Jisung was right, your panties were soaked through, Jisung’s cock clearly visible beneath the material. You looked up at your lover, watching as he scrunched up his eyes, lost in pleasure, and guided your gaze down, your eyes landing on his pelvis and then back to your soaking pussy.

You laid back onto the sheets, a sigh leaving your lips as you focused on the warm sensation, emptying your mind as it spread throughout your body. You were floating in that space you go to every now and then, as it was quiet throughout the room, the only sounds heard were your soft moans, Jisung’s whimpers, and your wet pussy. Your reverie was broken at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, your eyes fluttering open.

“Play with your tits baby,” Jisung said.

You could tell he was close, there desperation in his eyes as he sped up his thrusts, the head of his cock hitting against your clit. You whimpered and shook your head, bringing your hands to your tits, grasping the flesh in your hands. You flicked your nipples, your eyes on Jisung as he watched you, his hips never faltering. Your moans grew louder as you squeezed and pinched your nipples, shocks of pleasures running down your spine to your core.

“I’m close Sungie,” you whined, the added sensation to your nipples causing the coil to tighten even more.

Jisung whimpered and shook his head, as his thrusts became more sporadic. “Cum with me baby,” he whined, “please, please, please,” he chanted over and over before he stilled, letting out a loud groan as his hot cum spurt onto your mound and panties.

The sight of your boyfriend’s high and the feel of his tip sliding up against your clit caused you to tip of the edge, as the coil snapped, warmth spreading throughout your body. You moaned out, pinching your nipples as you rode out your high. Jisung watched you from above, his eyes darting between your face and your little hole, watching as it clenched around nothing.

Taking a breath, you dropped your hands and reached down, sliding your finger through his cum on your pelvis before bringing it to your lips and wrapping them around the digit. You moaned as you sucked his cum off your finger, the salty taste settling on your tongue. Removing your finger from your mouth with a pop, you grinned at the boy above you.

“God I love you baby,” Jisung said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

He looked down at your panties, completely ruined from your slick and his cum.

“Aww what a shame,” Jisung said, as he pushed your panties back in place. “I actually liked this pair. Guess I’m gonna have to buy you a new pair huh.”

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