Tumgik
#i just must survive one more week
dawnbreakersgaze · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tonight I was looking at some old winter Carhart adverts and the desire to paint Grey in the same style in some winter gear (probably about to go help man handle some naughty little goats at 5am in the bitter cold while he's home visiting his folks for the holidays) was too overwhelming to ignore lol.
Unfortunately I only had an hour to dedicated to this as my schedule is incredibly jam packed rn and I'm dying tbh, but it was v v cathartic to just paint his face for a little while, all while testing out some of the new brushes I purchased a while ago from Jazza!
Maybe I'll pick this back up when I get home next week? Idk I just wanna smooch his cold nose and pretend it's winter bc I hate summer with everything that I am 😩🥴 proof him and I could never actually work lmao his expression regarding the cold says it all 😭
8 notes · View notes
nerdyfangirlingbooks · 3 months
Text
Every now and then I remember the times I would mention to my flatmate that I was thinking of buying myself something reasonably expensive (that I had been eyeing up for months and had budgeted for) and she'd tell me that I shouldn't spend that much money on something I didn't need and it would be stupid etc etc while she regularly impulse bought things that cost at least as much and she would use once (while complaining that she was under a lot of financial stress and couldn't afford <$3/week for 2 months for a rental washing machine when ours broke). She is... perhaps not my first call for financial advice
#like I get that you're financially stressed but also it feels a bit rich to complain about it when you're on student allowance (not loan)#and your parents still contribute to things for you even though allowance is supposed to be for people whose parents can't afford to help#and you get multiple scholarships a year even though you're technically not eligible for half of them anymore but then as soon as the money#comes in from those you spend it all on a brand new dress for your sister's hen's do picnic because you can't wear the same dress as you#will for the actual hen's night or the wedding. Better buy a full price one at an expensive store instead of looking in a single op shop or#borrowing one from one of your three sisters who are all roughly the same size#god life must be so tough for you getting the same amount of money as the rest of us on student loan except you only have to pay back half#like the only money you have to live off is the same as what the rest of us get + scholarships (plural) plus what you earnt in your summer#internship? how could you possibly survive??#anyway I am NOT a fan of people who are like 'oh you say you have no money for rent but you have a phone?' because that's bullshit#and the whole 'millenials need to stop eating avocado toast so they can buy a house' thing is also bullshit#however. If you pay $60/week for a gym when you have access to the free uni one (or any other gym in the country is like $20)#and you buy uber eats multiple times a week for like $30+ each time despite having a premade meal in the fridge. and you get multiple#scholarships which mean you are arguably among the more well off students. AND you impulse buy things that cost over $100 regularly#then maybe the problem is not that you don't have enough money to split the rental costs of a washing machine (<$3 each/week)#maybe you are just bad with money#which is fine like it's not like it's unfixable it's just annoying when you act like you're worse off than people whose only money is what#they get from student loan each week so they eat beans on rice for dinner for a week#because that's all they could afford (yes I know people who did this. Yes she complained more than them)#so no I don't think I'm gonna be taking financial advice from you babes because one of us has entertained the idea of a budget to help with#finances and it's not you xx#(she turned down offers of financial help/advice/books to borrow from multiple people multiple times. I 100% get that you might not want to#talk to people about it especially your friends but we had multiple books on finances lying around the flat which she always said she didn't#need. And then she'd continue to complain that she didn't have enough money#god forbid you suggest something like going to a cheaper gym (or worse. The perfectly fine free uni gym!)#again. Her gym cost $60/week for most of last year until they brought in a student discount which was 'only' $45/week#the next most expensive gym chain I can find costs maybe $30/week for the highest membership level#to get what she was getting she would only need like a $20 membership#BUT to be fair she wouldn't get such strong culty vibes at any other gym#lol anyway sorry for the rant. I could keep going but apparently you can only have 30 tags and this is the last one
2 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
I know i missed is birthday but i only have enough time and energy to do this doodle for now so. Yeah
19 notes · View notes
magnoliamyrrh · 2 years
Text
.
#i cant help but think that were making a mistake in planning to do social/ppl work. in doing anthropology in the first place#ive never been good with people#i dont know if i ever will be#nor am i particularly fond of being surrounded by people constantly and infact i quite value my silence#... i can never seem to quite get the hang of interactions. of how to talk of how to move of how to speak#and while i have spend years pretend i do. it has only left me tired#... what am i to do exactly if this is what we go into? what happens if almost inevitabley it is me and not somebody else on a day when we#must deal with people - be it attempting to help or large groups of them or whatever it may be#.... i feel like im being signed up for a life of exhaustion if we do this. i am too quiet. i am too much of a solitary creature#.. what we should have done is gone to veternay school instead. which is what we wanted to do for some years anyway. still helping. less#people work though ...#. i could have done that so much more easily#...... it has taken me too many years of this life to stop hating humans all together. i can understand them. for survivals sake. but this#is all. i have yet to learn to trust them much nor have they given me much reason to nor do i see much benefit to doing so#i am tired. of the nonsencial cruelty. of all of it.#perhaps i do not wish to spend years trying to help beings which i barely trust#what happens if. as it happens at times. i end up being the one to front for days or weeks or months? it seems like a recipe for disaster#we truly should have just worked with animals instead that is something we can all easily do#. its too late now anyway#last year of college. there is no time or money or energy for another degree#my fate seems to be sealed and for months or perhaps years now ive been - i would say turning in my grave but i suppose im not yet dead -#over this.. and now it truly is past time#..... it was a mistake as well that we did not stick to horseback riding in highschool. no. instead we listened to people and parents and#family. do this do that you can do so much better et fucking cetera. those highschool years of academic insanity wrecked this body. wrecked#it. college was too much when we were so mentally and physically ill#.... life could have been different now#if we had stuck to it
5 notes · View notes
zephyrchama · 5 months
Text
Belphegor followed you down the hall as you dragged your suitcase. It wasn’t very big, but it was still heavy and annoying to lug over the thick decorative carpets. Every time one came to an end, the luggage thudded loudly back onto the hardwood floor.
“You sure you have everything? You packed the pillow I gave you?” Belphegor sluggishly matched his pace to yours. Having long legs must be nice.
“Of course, I triple checked.” ”Good. That’s my fifth favorite pillow, so you have to come back and return it, ok?”
You nodded as the suitcase went over another bump. This was your third time going over this exact conversation.
It wasn’t just the youngest, all of the brothers were antsy about your little trip. It was written all over their faces as you arrived at the foyer where they were waiting. Satan and Asmodeus solemnly stood up from the steps they were sitting on. Mammon and Leviathan had a hard time looking at you, their eyes darted all over the walls and ceiling. Beelzebub offered to move your suitcase by the door.
Just one weekend away. That was it. Solomon volunteered to take you back to the human world for a bit. You couldn't let a rare trip home pass by, as who knew when the next opportunity would arise. You could eat some normal food for once and stock up on your favorite human things. Though, your housemates reacted like you were leaving for a year.
“Did you pack everything?” Lucifer asked.
“Of course, I triple checked.” Deja-vu.
“Even the lotion I gave you?” Asmodeus looked so worried. He loosely took hold of your forearm with a tear in his eye. “Don’t forget, the sun is awful this time of year. I’ll never forgive you if you come back looking like a lobster.”
“Asmo, I won’t.” You grinned at his silly concern and leaned in for a hug. Asmodeus did not disappoint.
Everyone else took a step forward, hoping for a hug of their own, as Asmodeus breathed into your ear, “I’ll be waiting.”
“You have my number. If anything goes wrong, call me.” Lucifer sounded so reliable as he placed a hand on your shoulder.
There were half a dozen chimes of “mine, too!” and “same here!”
You’d been away for longer trips. How in the world did these guys survive for so many millennia before you met them? You turned to look at Lucifer, wanting to counter that Devildom phones didn’t even work in the human world, but he probably knew that already.
"Don't talk to strangers," he reminded, "and don't go out alone at night. Some humans are worse than demons." He wrapped his arms around you and wished “safe travels.”
Mammon stepped up next. He forced himself to stare at you, haughtily playing off the sadness he was really feeling. His bottom lip jutted out a little more than usual. “Well! You’ll bring me back a good souvenir, right?”
“Oh? I don’t know, I might not have time…” It was playful banter, yet your words shocked him. Mammon’s eyes widened. He began stammering and gripped your fingers. You quickly performed damage control, “Joking! I’m joking, Mammon. Of course I’ll get you a souvenir.”
The younger siblings piped up, “us too!”
“I’m getting everyone souvenirs, don’t worry!” You already had a few gift ideas in mind.
Mammon put his forehead on your shoulder and a hand on your back that he rubbed. “But mine’ll be the best. I trust ya.”
“Don’t let Solomon give you any food he cooks,” Beelzebub warned. “Actually, don’t let Solomon give you any food. Ever.” He tried to give you a lumpy-looking cloth bag, no doubt filled with homemade treats to take with you. It smelled scrumptious. Only issue was, the bag was half your size.
“Beel, there’s food in the human world. I can’t take all this, why don’t you enjoy it with your brothers?”
Beelzebub frowned, setting aside his present. It tilted under the weight of its own contents. You felt a slight pang of guilt, but how could you carry it all? That much food could last you a week.
He picked you up for his hug, your toes dangling several inches off the floor until he gently set you back down. Belphegor caught you as you regained your footing.
His hug was simple and cozy. He tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. “Don’t forget about my pillow.”
You suspected that if you ever actually tried to run away, these seven would go to the ends of the three realms to find you.
Satan nudged your luggage, observing the way it slided forward an inch. It was heavy to you, but clearly not them. “That’s really all you’re bringing? Do you have enough clothes?”
“Yes! You helped me pack!” The repetition was really starting to grate on you. Things were never this crazy when one of them had to leave the house for a few days. They wouldn't even care unless somebody went mysteriously unseen for over a week. “You all know I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be back in two days.”
“Hey, how come Satan got to help you pack?” Mammon complained.
“We did too,” Belphegor said, his twin in agreement.
“It was a group effort,” according to Asmodeus.
Mammon crossed his arms. "No way! You let these guys see your underwear?"
Satan ignored them. “Do you want another book for the road?”
“I’ll be fine.” You gave Satan his hug. After letting go, his fingers hovered by your side. “We’re teleporting there anyway. I don’t think there’ll be time to read anything.”
One suspiciously quiet demon in the back stared at the floor. “Two days,” he sighed. Leviathan did a poor job of hiding how upset he was.
“Levi, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“Yes!?” His head jerked up, met your gaze, and looked down again.
“I can’t leave until I get a full set of hugs from everyone,” you admitted. “I’m missing a very valuable part of the collection.”
Asmodeus and Mammon readily offered themselves for a second go. Leviathan’s cheeks flushed with envy and he grabbed you a little roughly, squishing his face into your shoulder. “You’ll take lots of pictures? A-and you won’t forget about us?”
You scoffed, “how could I forget about you? We’re bound together by a pact, aren’t we?” As for photos… you didn't know what would be interesting, but it couldn't hurt to take a bunch anyway.
Lucifer cleared his throat, signaling to Leviathan it was time to let go. "I miss you already," he muttered.
The seven of them followed you out of the house and down to the House of Lamentation’s front gate. It was like having a school of fish circling you. You could call it a miracle they weren't following you onto the main road, but if they went that far you knew they'd unreasonably demand Solomon take them along too.
“It’s just one weekend!” you reiterated. “Take care, you guys.”
They peered at you through the fence bars, waving when you glanced over. It was a sad sight, and possible attempt to make you come rushing back. If it was this bad already, you didn't want to think about how they'd act if you were going away for one week.
2K notes · View notes
wilwheaton · 2 months
Quote
In the wake of a near-tragic assassination attempt of a widely reviled figure, some people who loathe him may be wrestling with or suppressing emotions that feel contradictory. But the notions that Trump is dangerous, and that attempting to murder him is also dangerous, are not in tension with each other. The ethics and the practicality of liberal democracy both affirm a strong norm against political violence. [...]    Even though American history has seen a long litany of murders and attempted murders — Gerald Ford survived two attempts on his life within a few weeks of each other — this one feels scarier. That is because our social peace has grown more precarious. An assassination attempt on Donald Trump is a far more dangerous thing than an attempt to kill Mitt Romney would have been a dozen years ago, or Al Gore a dozen years before that.    And while the responsibility for maintaining social peace and the norm of non-violence is shared equally across the political spectrum, the blame for its decay is not.    Trump stokes and feeds upon a lust for violence. He possesses a demagogue’s skill for manipulating his supporters’ most elemental emotions. As a private citizen he exploited a white woman’s rape in Central Park to demand the execution of innocent young men of color. He continues to call for various critics to be executed for their disloyalty. When a maniac attempted to kill Nancy Pelosi and smashed the skull of her husband, he cheered it on. He continues to glorify and promise to free the criminals who assaulted police in the attack on the Capitol in an attempt to seize an unelected second term.    It is not Trump’s fault that someone tried to kill him. It is absolutely his fault that it has immediately set off a widespread fear of reprisals and chaos.
Trump Shooting: He Must Be Defeated by Ballots, Not Bullets
Look, I can’t wait for the guy to die and be gone forever. I just want him to die in prison.
And he’s still a Fascist. Don’t let that get obscured in all of this. He’s still the same wannabe dictator, the same hateful liar, the same corrupt traitor, the same 34 time convicted felon, the same rapist.
Nothing about him has changed. Nothing about Project 2025 has changed.
Obviously, the national conversation is going to be focused on this for the near future, and we can’t forget or minimize that he remains a serious and dire threat to America, and the world.
1K notes · View notes
cripplecharacters · 4 months
Text
How to Support People with Facial Differences - the Face Equality Week 2024 Special
[large text: How to Support People with Facial Differences - the Face Equality Week 2024 Special]
Today is the 13th of May, which means that the Face Equality Week has just started. This year's theme is “My Face is a Masterpiece” which is probably my favorite sentence ever said about having a facial difference. Huge fan, should be used way more often in my opinion.
Because of this occasion, I would like to share some thoughts about Face Equality that I think are rather entry-level, i.e. you don't need to know much to execute these, but you can still support us.
Stop the stare.
I know it's fun to stare - or so I guess, at least - but maybe you shouldn't. Next time you see someone who has a scar or who's face does not move the same way as yours, just mind your business. We can tell when you're “discreetly” looking.
Don't call us deformed. 
Knowing how the people you're trying to support actually call themselves should be an absolute first step, but most people still fail here. Most of us don't appreciate being called “deformed”. I certainly don't. Say “facial difference”, or “disfigurement” if you must. It's 2024. Leave “deformed” to medical reports from the 70s.
No more “What happened?!”s.
If you aren't a doctor, there's a high-to-100% chance that it's none of your business. It's cool that you're curious - keep it to yourself.
Stop insinuating that we are ugly.
“Support people who are ugly!” isn't very supportive. I would say, not in the slightest. Say “people who don't fit the current beauty standards” if that's what you mean. 
Or, to go with this year's theme, “people whose faces are masterpieces” : )
Use critical thinking online.
Is the reaction photo actually funny, or is it just a person with a craniofacial condition? Is the meme actually a meme, or is it just making fun of a person with a facial disfigurement? Is body-shaming suddenly hilarious to you when the person shamed has strabismus? 
If the entire punchline is “lol they have a disability xd”, it's ableism. Plain and simple.
To go with the point above - your joke is probably not funny.
We get it! You can't help telling us how "you're going to hell for laughing" (which yeah, probably) and how we remind you of the ugliest character you have ever seen. I guarantee you that we heard it, and that you are behaving like an edgy middle schooler who hasn't "found out" yet. It's boring and annoying. Also ableist, but you're aware of that already if you're saying that you're going to hell.
Stop with the goddamn trigger warnings. 
We aren't “body horror”, we aren't “gore”, we aren't something that you need to advise your viewers to use their discretion over. Every “graphic footage: child with neurofibromatosis” and “#tw burn scar” is a sign of ableism and disfiguremisia. People with facial differences deserve to be seen. Ableds can survive seeing a person without a nose.
Do a basic reading on what disfiguremisia is.
New word! And a pretty damn important one. It's a brand of ableism that intersects with more or less everything, and it means discrimination and hatred of people with facial differences/disfigurements. The bullying, harassment, endless name-calling, and microaggressions are all results of disfiguremisia. The ways in which everything is harder for us isn't some unchangeable rule of how the world works, it's just an extremely prevalent type of discrimination.
Understand that we are people.
I know, revolutionary - and yet impossible for so many people to get. We can be a visual representation of evil when it's necessary, we can be a feel-good inspirational story on a morning talk-show, but not much else, it seems. In reality, we are complex, we have our own lives, we can be happy and sad and have the same exact joys and worries that you have.
Hey, artists - facial differences don't make you evil.
Title stolen from a great essay by Lise Deguire (link). When's the last time you saw a positive character with a facial difference that wasn't inspiration porn? I mean a character that's not edgy, full of angst, a murderer, or a villain. Based on what you see in the media, you'd think that having a scar renders you evil on the spot, but in reality it just makes you loathe how artists apparently think you are like. It's boring, it's overdone, it's ableism. Stop doing this, and start noticing when it's being done. Point it out if your friend is writing their new villain to be an evil burn survivor. This kind of portrayal needed to stop ages ago, but tomorrow will be a great time as well.
Before you reply with “I've never seen this” - Darth Vader, Lion King’s Scar (subtle name, great thing to teach kids!), Freddy Krueger, Voldemort, we could be here forever. You're just not paying attention.
Pay attention to where we are not included.
As discussed, there are some places where you see us all the time. But where do you not see us?
Advertisements (unless it's for a scar-removal cream, of course). Fashion shows. Magazine covers. Romance movies where we are the main character.
We deserve to see ourselves in what's around us in the same way able-bodied people do. Trying to make it seem like we don't exist - that's deliberate. 
Interact with our art.
We draw, write, sing, act in movies, we do everything! Support us in the most tangible way - leave us a nice comment, read our books, listen to our songs. Watch movies where actual people with facial differences star, not pseudoinspirational stories about how “being disfigured is ok” where they shove an able-bodied actor into a full face prosthetic just to not have an actor with a disfigurement on set.
Include us.
As this year's Face Equality Week calls for, include us. In art, in movies, in books, in your life. Show us as positive people who are valuable, who are a part of your community - I guarantee that we are in every one that's out there. The world is hostile and unwelcoming to people with facial differences - be the change, wherever you are!
I know that it is different from the usual posts I make, but I hope it was somewhat educational. I just like to use every occasion that I can to force Face Equality into people's heads. To make this at least a bit about writing to keep the blog's theme, I will say that if you want to write about us, you need to care about us in real life as well. Otherwise, it's shallow and pointless.
Below the readmore are some links/resources that you can click to educate yourself further. A lot of them lead to Face Equality International because they have just about everything you should know. If you want to be a better ally to people with facial differences, I heavily recommend them!
#MyFaceIsAMasterpiece
mod Sasza
https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/why-i-will-not-hide/
https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/disability-is-diversity/202111/hidden-community-the-movement-face-equality
https://faceequalityinternational.org/2022/05/facial-differences-in-the-media/
https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/advertising-excludes-women-with-faces-like-mine/
https://www.phoenix-society.org/resources/burn-community-bookshelf
https://faceequalityinternational.org/about-fei/international-face-equality-week/
https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/hidden-from-view-women-with-facial-differences-in-the-media/
https://www.phoenix-society.org/resources/i-dont-see-your-scars
whoa thanks for actually clicking the readmore!!
2K notes · View notes
afterglowsainz · 1 day
Text
we used to have more pt. 2 | oscar piastri
part 1
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: after oscar gets back with his ex you found yourself coping in the best way possible: running away
fc: different girls from pinterest
warnings: some very questionable work dynamics that i’m pretty sure are not accurate at all (good thing this is fiction and i can do whatever i want for the plot!)
a/n: thank you so so so much for all the love you gave to part 1! this story is like my baby and i’m truly so happy people liked it <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and others
yourusername always ✨chaotic✨ in melbourne🦘
view all comments
username AHHHH i live for her weekly race posts
username the bag essentials ✨
username her ig is what my pinterest boards looks like 🥹
username manifesting this life truly
declanmurray first pic is unfocused
yourusername NO! WHAT?
username she’s so cool 😩
username the star girl of f1 ⭐️
lissiemackintosh i need that lipstick actually 😭
yourusername come and we’ll share 😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[lissiemackintosh’s instagram stories] [yourusername’s instagram stories]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[caption 1: ✈️💗] [caption 2: lights out…]
Tumblr media
liked by patriciooward, milesbaldwin and others
yourusername settling just fine 🍊🧿🍒
view all comments
username she’s working at indy now omg
username what nooo 😭😭 i love her in f1
username ahhh did not expect this at all
username as an indycar fan i love this
username and she posted a pic of the podium celebration i- 💞💞💞
username okay but the hands on the last picture ???
username girl whoooo 👀
username probably one of her friends she always with
patriciooward that podium pic 😩
yourusername it was a cool champagne trick!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, alexanderrossi and others
milesbaldwin survived our first week in america
tagged yourusername, lissiemackintosh, miguelsossa and declanmurray
view all comments
yourusername against all odds!
username ohhh so they are ALL in indy
username the timing of this is very curious ngl 🤣
username right like the season JUST started
miguelsossa we’re perfect 😉
davidmalukas perfectly deranged!
lissiemackintosh wow buddy i thought we were friends
davidmalukas ohhh you’re saying buddy like an american already ☺️
yourusername 👀👀👀
oscarpiastri have fun mate 👍🏽
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by nolansiegel, patriciooward and others
yourusername another week, another race day🏎🏁
tagged davidmalukas and lissiemackintosh
view all comments
username the way this could’ve been about china but no! she’s in america 😭
username obsessed with the fact she posts only in mclaren
yourusername luckily here i can be biased 🧡🧡
username OMG
username girl come back to f1 you’re gonna miss all the fun races!
username y/n at indy was a must i didn’t knew i needed
username an lissie and declan and miles and miguel and
username you can’t physically separate them i’m afraid (liked by yourusername)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, declanmurray and others
patriciooward nice afternoon🧡
view all comments
username second podium in a row yesss
miguelsossa congrats mate! (liked by patriciooward)
username guys you lost me i’m in love with a mclaren 😔
username no i get you because this is me with oscar 😔
milesbaldwin feliz navidad pato! (or whoever you say it) (liked by patriciooward)
username close! welcome back sebastian vettel
username i’m that champagne bottle actually
yourusername ahhh so well deserved 🙌🏽
patriciooward thank you!
Tumblr media
taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory
858 notes · View notes
malcriada · 23 days
Text
Help Firas and Nisreen Raise $545 in a Week
Tumblr media Tumblr media
prices for the simplest items in North Gaza can fluctuate wildly, if they are available at all.
my friend Firas @firasmuhaisenn and his sister Nisreen are two first-year medical students who went to study in Egypt before the genocide started. their family is stuck in North Gaza and lost their source of income. i have posted about them extensively here Firas and Nisreen must not only pay for rent, food and necessities for themselves in Egypt, but they also have to make sure their family survives and has enough to eat.
to make sure the entire family can survive, they absolutely have to reach a weekly goal of $545 USD (= $734 CAD) while the possibility of the Rafah crossing opening soon remains, it is important we also think of these funds gathered as a form of Palestinian survival amidst a genocide. until the crossing reopens, Firas and his family need our help just to survive another day! anything you can give this family truly helps them feed themselves. let's help Firas and Nisreen, they are so young and can only carry so much on their shoulders! $0 / $545 USD (until 09/05/24)
[ID: A gfm with two images side by side. The first one shows a man standing in front of a ruined factory that has mostly been turned to rubble. The second one shows more extent of the destruction. The title of the GFM is "Donate to Help evacuate our family and complete our studying, organized by Firas Muhaisen" End ID]
their fundraiser was shared by @/90-ghost here please follow my friend Firas @firasmuhaisenn for updates and share his posts!
apologies for the tag, please let me know if you'd like to be removed
@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe
@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako
@feluka @fiqrr @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria
@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @evillesbianvillain @neechees
@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @jezior0 @7bitter @tortiefrancis
@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @tododeku-or-bust
@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul
@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat
@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz
@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2
@vakarians-babe @wayneradiotv @paper-mario-wiki @rthko @decolonize-deez
@velvetys @3000s @punkitt-is-here @ghelgheli
@cruzwalters @yugiohz @akajustmerry @shesnake @tamamita
881 notes · View notes
spider-stark · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
INFINITELY YOU
Tumblr media
part two // crullers & constants
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
WORD COUNT - 4.2k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
Tumblr media Tumblr media
name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker
Tumblr media
Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 
Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 
Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 
Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 
Or, at least, none that mattered. 
But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 
It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 
Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 
After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 
And Peter never even asked why. 
“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 
Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 
And how true that must have been. 
There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 
He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 
Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 
You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 
 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 
It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 
Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 
You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  
“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 
“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 
The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 
Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 
Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 
“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 
Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 
“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 
Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 
You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 
Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 
Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 
“Did he?” 
Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 
You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 
In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 
“Well did he have anything useful?” 
He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 
Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 
“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 
“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 
“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 
Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 
Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 
“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 
Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 
“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 
“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 
You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 
Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 
“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 
By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 
Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 
“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 
Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 
“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 
Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 
“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 
“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 
You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 
“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 
Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 
“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 
“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 
“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 
He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 
“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 
“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 
If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 
You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 
“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 
Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 
Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 
“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 
He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 
“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 
He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 
Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 
But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 
The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 
Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 
Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 
“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 
He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 
You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 
“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 
You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 
Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 
His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 
“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 
“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 
There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 
You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 
Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 
In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 
Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 
“Mj happened.” 
Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 
“Yep. That’s the one.” 
“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 
It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 
In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 
“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 
You sucked in a breath. 
“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 
His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 
Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 
But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 
“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 
“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 
An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 
“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 
“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 
“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 
“I’m not pretending-” 
Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 
Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 
There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 
“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 
“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 
Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”
Tumblr media
series masterlist
a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.
as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th
1K notes · View notes
smileysuh · 8 months
Text
penance
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🌙 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.
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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.” 
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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.”  
Tumblr media
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.”
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
☀️ 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
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 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
Tumblr media
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.”
Tumblr media
☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.4k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
Tumblr media
general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 
@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii
@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven
@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf
@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee
@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy
@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono
@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @aaniag
svt taglist:
@rebeccasficrecs - @alltowoo - @taestrwbrry - @greysdarling
@joonsneptune - @candidupped - @cheolussy
@yourfavoritefreakyhan - @asjkdk
thank you to those who interacted with the teaser
@walkxthexmoon - @mingy0u - @stolasisyourparent - @xoxoluz666
@xcynthiaaa - @leah-rose03 - @aaniag - @hannieween
2K notes · View notes
all-purpose-dish-soap · 3 months
Note
your shark mer 141 and mer remora fic is one of the only things keeping me sane during finals week so please please please dump all of your thoughts on us because your writing style is so good and i can’t get enough!!!!!!!
thank you!! i sincerely hope finals are going/did go well for you! you should treat yourself with a little something if/when you're finished :)
and the shark mer 141 are always happy to be of service <3
37 / 1k / part 2 of shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader
...
"But I'm fine!"
“You’re not. Look at you. You’re half-asleep.”
You’re not tired, you’re hungry. You shift against him, listless and unable to voice your needs. It's not that you're unwilling to do so--it's that you can't. It doesn't occur to you. Your kind doesn't survive by acting needy around a host.
Ghost notices your silent resistance. You’re weak--too tired, too hungry, too used to taking care of yourself--and still stubborn enough to keep your mouth shut anyway. He bites back a growl of irritation. It would be easier to fight. At least then he could shout it out of you. But no--instead you’re a tired lump in his hand, and your silence doesn’t give him anywhere to push back.
He's got one arm looped around you and both of your hands grasped in one of his. He only carries you like this, holding you by the wrists, when you accompanying him isn't up for debate. When you're being particularly fussy about it, he drags you by the wrists as if your arms were leads.
You don't relish that thought right now. You finally just bow your head, tucking it against his chest in submission.
He feels the change in your body language when you surrender to his control. He notices the way you go almost limp against him. Good. That almost puts the hungry, prowling animal in him to rest. Almost.
It’s a hard thing to explain--the gnawing dissatisfaction he felt watching you comb through the sand, small and alone on the ocean floor. The protective, possessive feeling that took root in his stomach.
It made him want to bite you all over. Not just to punish you, but to warn any other lurking thing who might confuse your loneliness for attainability. Not that he'd ever express the impulse to do so.
"Are you coming back to hunt again?" you ask him.
“Why? Do you miss me that much?”
You huff. "You didn't eat enough."
His fingers tighten around your wrists. You either have an inappropriate sense of humor or no self-awareness whatsoever.
“You're in a mouthy mood, huh?” he remarks tersely. “Must be even more tired than you look.”
He’s not stupid. He knows why you invited yourself along on his hunting trip. But he’s not going to coddle you while you shy away from the issue.
He glances up towards the coral reef, considering. If he brings you straight home, you'll just go back to ignoring your obvious needs. But he won’t let you wander the sea floor like some starving bottom-feeder. And he knows better than to hunt for you—you always refuse fresh kills.
The ones Ghost offers, at least. You seem willing enough to take fresh kills from Gaz.
Pisses him off.
You open your eyes when Ghost changes course and heads for a small cove carpeted in sandbanks. He dumps you unceremoniously into the soft sand. You look around, then at him.
"Stay right here." His tone brooks no argument. He swims off with an irritated lash of his tail before you can ask him why. You're left alone, moonlight curling across the surface of the water far above you and across the sand at your fins. Watching it makes your eyelids grow heavy.
You wake with a start when he returns. He holds in one clawed hand a fish. A live one.
He comes to rest on the edge of the sandbank. He doesn't speak, merely watching with a critical eye as you shake the sand from your scales and rouse yourself back into full consciousness. Then he holds out the live fish to you.
"Eat."
You frown but reach for it. Right as you lay your hands on it, it darts away. You jump in surprise, but one look at Ghost's face tells you he expected exactly that to happen. He can’t stop a small, satisfied smirk from curving his lips. That was exactly the reaction he wanted, and now you’re staring at him with six different accusations on the tip of your tongue.
His eyes fix on you with that smug, condescending look in his gaze. "Didn't Price teach you how to hunt for yourself?"
"Yes," you snap. You push yourself off the sand and dart after the fish, catching nothing but water again.
“Clearly not well.”
You strike out again. And come up empty. Again.
He huffs a laugh. You turn on him. "What's the point of this? You're the one who was going hunting."
He leans back, propping his weight on his elbows as he eyes you. Every failed lunge and dart bring him more satisfaction. "The point is that you should be able to feed yourself," he retorts. "You're too dependent, sweetheart. You’d starve in a koi pond."
You’d love nothing more than to tell him where exactly he can shove his stupid fish, but it’s far too mentally taxing for you to refuse outright. Instead, you cross your arms in a way that just as clearly says I'm not doing that.
Ghost’s eyes glimmer. He isn’t having it.
He pushes himself off the sand and swims toward you, pushing you back against the bank when he crowds himself over your smaller frame.
"You know” —his expression is downright patronizing— “refusing an order is a bad move. Bad things happen to disobedient pets."
"It didn't sound like an order," you mutter, avoiding his eyes.
He grabs your jaw and forces eye contact. "Sure as hell wasn't a suggestion, sweetheart. If you're not gonna ask for food when you need it, you're gonna learn to hunt." His eyes are hard, and that smug, self-satisfied demeanor is buried far underneath. "You learn or I make you learn. What do you say?"
You swallow. "Thank you for catching me such a nice practice fish?"
"Good pet." He releases your jaw.
He moves back onto the sand, propping himself on his elbows once more as he leans back. His black eyes linger on you, and you feel a chill.
"Now go."
...
part 1 / [part 2]
more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag
912 notes · View notes
renthony · 10 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Buy some beeswax candles from a household of disabled queer crafters!
Hey everyone, there are some changes happening with the Etsy shop I run with my husband @kryptidkhaos!
For one, we've rebranded! When I first opened the shop, I was handling everything on my own, but Aiden's taken over a significant amount of the labor while I work on all the other projects I have going at any given time. The shop's original name, "Ren's Curio Shop," didn't quite fit now that it's not just mine anymore, hence...Candles and Cantrips!
The candle part should be obvious from the photos at the top of this post, but why "cantrips"? Because I'm starting to make dice and other tabletop gaming related crafts again! Over the next few weeks I'll be working to add new listings for dice, dice accessories such as bags, trays, and storage boxes, and a few more fun things you'll hear about once I make more progress.
Until that's all ready to list, we still have a wonderful selection of unscented, all-natural beeswax candles--including three brand-new listings for votives and mini tapers.
The prices on a couple of our listings have gone up slightly, adjusted to accommodate higher beeswax prices and cost of living in the second half of 2024. We haven't raised them too terribly much, though, so if you're in the market for beeswax candles, I hope you'll check out our shop! Each candle is made by a couple of disabled queers in our crappy little apartment kitchen, and each purchase supports our little queer family as we try to survive the capitalist hellscape we must exist in.
Candles & Cantrips on Etsy
Thanks for reading, and have a great day!
669 notes · View notes
saphronethaleph · 13 days
Text
Fascist, Thus Inefficient
“As you can see, my young apprentice, your friends have failed,” the Emperor said, triumph in his tone. “Now, witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station!”
Luke looked at him in shock.
“Fire at will, Commander!” the Emperor said.
Fourteen months previously…
“Shipment IL-214-73 arriving,” a petty officer reported.
“Thank goodness,” muttered one of the technicians. “After the delays we’ve been having, we need to get those Khyber crystals into the third main focusing array. It’s been on the critical path for a week.”
He brought up the display, frowning. “All right, I think we can make up a bit of time if we just get them straight to cutting and installation.”
“Don’t we need to run them through the testing process first?” a more junior technician asked. “That’s on the list.”
“I know it’s on the list,” the senior tech replied. “But the list was written when they didn’t expect there’d be rebel attacks hitting our supply lines.”
He waved at the screen. “The testing process means heating each individual crystal up to eighteen hundred, even though we know Khyber can all handle temperatures of up to forty-seven-fifty. The cutting process doesn’t rely on heat tolerance either. Any crystalline flaws will come out in cutting, and we can just junk them. It means cutting takes a bit longer, but by going straight to cutting we can save at several hours on the overall process. And you know how much time we’ve lost already.”
The junior tech looked worried, then shook his head.
“All right,” he replied. “I guess so.”
“You need to learn how things are done in practice,” the senior tech said. “No big deal.”
Eleven months previously...
“I’m quite sure Rothana Heavy Engineering’s XJ-15 hypermatter feed systems will meet your needs better than the alternatives,” the Rothana representative said, as Admiral Jerjerrod examined the datasheet.
He wasn’t so sure. The newer units had better specifications, certainly, but they weren’t proven, and they were also somewhat more expensive.
“I don’t think that’s necessarily the case,” he said, out loud. “While I appreciate Rothana’s position, the Sienar alternative has similar flow rates and more proven applications.”
The Rothana representative nodded, sagely.
“I understand entirely,” he said. “However, I must point out that Rothana has some important additional information to present.”
He held out a credit chip, which Jerjerrod took and inspected.
“Owing to the XJ-15’s protracted development, we are willing to provide our test units at cost,” the representative went on. “That is in addition to having a higher production rate than our competitors and a less committed production output.”
Jerjerrod hesitated, then pocketed the credit chip.
“That all seems in order,” he said. “The XJ-15 it is.”
“Marvellous,” the representative declared.
Nine months previously...
“I’ve examined the records that exist from the first Death Star,” a senior technician said. “The amount of strain that was placed on the flash suppression systems was minimal to nonexistent. Even with the full firing that destroyed Alderaan, surviving records indicate that the flash suppressors had no more than a five percent load placed on them – an amount that can be handled by untreated durasteel.”
The other men and women in the meeting looked at the data on the screen behind their colleague.
“You’re suggesting we forego the duratemp treatment on the flash protection systems?” one of the women asked, cautiously. “I can see the advantages, but the downsides seem significant. I’d even say potentially destructive.”
“It is my position that the cost of including the duratemp treatment is unacceptable,” the tech replied. “It takes time and effort, including supervisory attention which cuts into the available man-hours on the project. We only have so much experienced manpower.”
That drew winces, though none of the humans in the room drew attention to the fact that they were spending a lot of that time in interminable meetings.
“In the following presentation, I’ll discuss my proposal and how it could shave as much as one week off the final completion timetable,” the senior tech continued, flicking to the next screen of his presentation. “This model shows how the flash suppression systems are built around the main weapon…”
Six months previously…
“There simply isn’t an option,” the head of personnel replied. “Our existing system is not providing enough technicians and operators.”
“This was quite sufficient for the first Death Star,” Jerjerrod protested.
“The first Death Star was a project that took decades,” the manager replied, shrugging. “It didn’t come up at first, sir – for that I apologize – but if we are going to redress the problem, we need to act now. There is no alternative.”
Jerjerrod rubbed his temples, thinking about the problem.
The fully functional Death Star was going to need hundreds of thousands of qualified technicians and operators, familiar with the systems of the vast battle station, and so many of the men who knew much about the Death Star at the moment were busy building it.
There hadn’t been many left after the destruction of the first battle station, because most of them had been working on it at the time.
“All right,” he said. “So your proposal is…?”
“We keep the same number of trainers for now, but abbreviate the course,” the manager answered. “Two months – at most. Then we have the new graduates train the next batch for two months, and so on. Exponential growth. At twenty students per instructor and a hundred instructors to start with, we’ll end up with eight hundred thousand in six months.”
That was extremely tempting… they wouldn’t be anything like the equal of what they should be, but they could learn on the job.
“All right,” Jerjerrod said. “Approved – see to it.”
One month previously…
“Next item on the checklist?” Commander Jaskier asked.
“Step one hundred and seven,” Technician Mils replied. “Self test.”
She pressed the self-test button, and the computer system clicked and flickered as it ran through the diagnostics.
Data results and readouts went up on the screen, and Jaskier and all the others in the control station watched the results.
None of them had any comment to make about the numbers. The checklist said to run the self test, so that was what they were doing.
“Step one hundred and eight,” Mils went on. “Sign off on results.”
She did that, as well, and Jaskier nodded.
“Good,” he said. “And I believe we’ve finished that half an hour ahead of schedule! Good work, everyone.”
Now.
The firing commands flashed out through the Death Star’s systems, triggering a cascade of further commands, and the whole massive battle station’s main superlaser woke for the first time.
Fifty XJ-15 hypermatter flow regulators controlled the flow of energy from the power core into the power collectors, and the energy being channelled into the system surged rapidly – rising to one hundred and eighteen percent of nominal, above what would have been anticipated, and greater than the one hundred and two percent that the older, more proven Sienar systems would have generated.
Thousands of high powered beams were generated, controlled and focused through an enormous array of Khyber crystals… a small but measurable fraction of which were cheap industrially grown diamonds instead, added to the shipments by subcontractors eager to stretch out their production from the strip-mined planet of Ilum without running so late on their deliveries that financial penalties were imposed.
None of the technicians who were in a position to spot the problem at this stage were actually capable of doing so. Their necessarily abbreviated training had mostly been on what buttons to push, and nobody had the deeper knowledge of the systems to recognize that the system was in an anomalous state.
Then some of the diamonds shattered under the load, allowing the beams free to damage adjacent systems, and in moments the whole of the energy drawn from the hypermatter core was unleashed.
The flash suppression systems were wholly, and fatally, inadequate.
“Watch yourself, Wedge!” Lando called, his head on a swivel, and banked the Falcon around so his ventral turret gunner could clear off one of the TIEs attacking Red Leader. “We’ve got to-”
Then there was a sudden blinding flash, and Lando did a double-take.
The Death Star’s protective shield was instantly, and dramatically, visible – because the entire inside of it was full of plasma and flame, lighting it up as clearly as Ackbar’s briefing had done back before the operation was launched in the first place. Then something blew up on the surface of the forest moon as the plasma followed the funnel of the shield, and the explosive force was no longer contained but began to drift out into space.
“...the kriff?” Lando asked, eventually. “What just happened?”
“Ow,” Darth Vader said, indistinctly, reaching up to feel his helmet, which had been crushed in by an impact with the ceiling.
The Emperor’s throne room seemed to mostly be intact, though there was an Emperor-shaped hole in the window nearest his throne, and Luke had his hands out to either side as he stood on the wall.
“Father, are you all right?” the younger Skywalker asked.
“What happened?” Vader replied. “I remember the Emperor ordering that the Death Star should fire…”
“I don’t know, it exploded just after he said that,” Luke answered. “It turns out that overconfidence was his weakness… do you have any idea where the nearest spaceship is? Keeping the atmosphere in is tiring me out a bit.”
466 notes · View notes
wolfiesmoon · 8 months
Text
A cat is a cat
Leona x gn!reader
Caaaan you feeeeel the looove toniiight~~♪
ok i'll stop
School is stressin me the f out but but i'll survive for leona🫡🫡🫡🫡
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Are you okay? Why are you just staring at me?" You ask, confused at Leona's staring. He's been sitting next to you and just... looking at you for a while now. You made eye contact with him and somehow you've just been sitting there for 10 minutes as he slowly blinks at you every now and then.
His face scrunched up at your words and he looked a little hurt for a moment before looking away. "It's nothin'."
"I saw that." You were reffering to the 'kicked puppy face' and you know he knew what you meant. But alas, he just crossed his arms and insisted he doesn't know what you mean.
"Ouuukay then." You looked in front of you, not knowing what else to say or do. But you couldn't get the way he looked at you or the way he got offended over your nonchalance out of your head. What is up with that? Is it a beastman thing? What does staring at someone mean to lions?
This calls for a beastman behaviour research session, you suppose...
.
Even after various google searches of the phrase "what does it mean when your lion boyfriend stares at you for a long time" and its variations, you couldn't come to a conclusive answer.
The point is, this must be one of those things which you're just supposed to know in a relationship. There's no guidebook for it out there.
Which puts you in a tough spot since you don't know what to apologise for. Leona seems unbothered around you but Ruggie did tell you he's been sulking and asked you if you know the reason a few days ago.
Grim even had to snap you out of your thoughts a few times during class because you were so bothered by it. Yeah, the same guy that's practically asleep as soon as Trein opens his mouth.
Speaking of Trein, you were staring at his cat during magic history class and suddenly remembered something. You watched a 'cat facts' video out of pure boredom a few weeks ago and in that video they mentioned that cats show affection by slowly blinking at eachother. And that it applies to big cats too.
Oh.
OHHHHH.
Oh my god, it all makes sense now!
Suddenly you're seeing Leona in a more adorable, pet cat-like way. You can't believe that lion beastmen actually kept that aspect of their cat counterparts, but it's a very cute surprise for sure!
You also realise now why he looked so hurt. During that whole blinking session he was wordlessly telling you how much he loves you only for you to go "Why are you staring at me?". You'd be sad if that happened to you, too.
Suddenly you can't wait for history class to be over. You've got a stubborn lion man to apologise to.
But now you can't help but wonder what other instincts Leona took over from his animal counterpart.
1K notes · View notes
demigods-posts · 6 months
Text
if anyone is allowed one swear word in the show. it should be leah. and it should be in season four. and it should go like this:
Annabeth turned to face the audience. She looked terrible. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she managed to say, " He was probably the bravest friend I ever had. He..." Then she saw me. Her face went blood red. "He's right there!"
Heads turned. People gasped.
"Percy!" Beckendorf grinned. A bunch of other kids crowded around me and clapped me on the back. I heard a few curses from the Ares cabin, but Clarisse just rolled her eyes, like she couldn't believe I'd had the nerve to survive. Chiron cantered over and everyone made way for him.
"Well," he sighed with obvious relief. " I don't believe I've ever been happier to see a camper return. But you must tell me—"
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Annabeth interrupted, shoving aside the other campers. I thought she was going to punch me, but instead she hugged me so fiercely she nearly cracked my ribs. The other campers fell silent.
Annabeth seemed to realize she was making a scene and pushed me away.
"I—we thought you were dead, Seaweed Brain!"
"I'm sorry," I said. "I got lost."
"LOST?" she yelled. "Two weeks, Percy? Where in the FUCK—?"
"Annabeth," Chiron interrupted. " Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, shall we? The rest of you, back to your normal activities."
870 notes · View notes